Chapter Text
They were both used to solitude. It came with the experience of losing family or being abandoned, after all. So despite their initial misgivings, they found comfort in each other's presence. They knew that this time, they weren't alone anymore. This time, they had each other.
After that fateful fight by the bridge, the two had developed a sort of routine. Unspoken, yet tacitly understood. It didn't happen daily—a week went by in silence—but eventually, they settled on days when the walls of their home were too oppressive. Too quiet. When being alone felt a little too unbearable and they'd think of the other.
It was a text, sometimes an excuse about having too many leftovers. Saying it outright was hard, that it's too quiet without you here. I miss the way you light up the room whenever you smile. I miss seeing you wear my clothes and bathe in my scent. Yet despite the veiled invitation, both of them knew how much they wanted to be together. They never voiced it, never really explicitly stated it, but the waft of pheromones that intertwined with one another was enough evidence of it.
Eventually, the walls became less bare. Where dust used to settle, now housed additional things that spoke of a new presence. An additional blanket. A smaller shirt folded neatly beside an all-too-large shirt. A pair of slippers that were stored away with the owner long gone, found their place by the entrance again. The box, now a haunting reminder of what was lost, was slowly reclaiming the warmth it once held.
When Momijikawa finds himself sitting alone by the dining table, he doesn't think about how lonely it is anymore. He thinks of the boy who usually sits across from him, who scarfs down all his cooking and makes him remember the feeling of satisfaction at taking care of someone again. He thinks of how soft the colors black and white can be. How mismatched colors could look so perfect on one canvas, so utterly unique that he couldn't think of any work of art that was as beautiful. The fondness in his chest grows with every crinkle of his nose, every flash of fang from a wide grin, and each little hum of satisfaction that accompanies his every bite. This is what he has always wanted—to have someone to cherish and love as he once did with his family.
Because god, isn't that what Sakura is to him now?
Family. The alpha side of him rumbles in satisfaction at the thought as he tidies up the table. It was a sweet little thing to find someone he liked so much enough to consider him as a new part of his family. He thinks about how much his grandmother would have loved the omega. His sweet, loving omega.
He pauses at that particular thought and blushes. No, he coughs while rinsing the dishes. We're just… Friends. He's a very dear friend that I consider family.
He knew his friend was an omega after a few visits from him. At first, he was in disbelief; Sakura had never shown any signs of being an omega. The stereotype that omegas were weak had long been disproven and was already considered outdated; it was more so the fact that many omegas would be repulsed by the pheromones that multiple dominant alphas emit constantly. It was why same-gender schools were the standard for high schoolers. Though it wasn't an alpha-exclusive school, Furin wasn't exactly the place where you'd see many omegas, with a few exceptions. But those exceptions all had one thing in common—a very distinct, omega scent.
Sakura had none.
When he first met him, he had the impression that the other was an alpha, too. It was one of the reasons why he was so peeved in the first place. An alpha outsider? He swore he would kick his ass the next time he saw him.
Then their later interactions happened, and he was convinced that he was a beta. No scent spikes during his most agitated moments, not a single sign that he was an omega even when they were up close and brawling it out.
The first time it happened, it didn't hit him dramatically like a rush of suffocating, agitated omega pheromones. It didn't happen from a rough altercation that led to Sakura losing the reins on his control.
No. It was on the third day that he came over to Momijikawa’s house, crashing on the couch wearing his shirt (because it had rained again somehow), wrapped in his scent-covered blanket, and watching a movie next to him.
He was purring.
It took a good half of the movie for either of them to register what was even happening. Obviously, Sakura exploded and almost threatened to leave, but Momijikawa wouldn't have it.
“I don't mind, Haruka,” he raised his hands soothingly in an attempt to calm the poor boy. “It’s really not a big deal.”
“I- Of course it is!” Sakura looked absolutely mortified. “This-this never happens! I don't do whatever the fuck that was!”
“You purred, which is normal for an omega.” Momijikawa felt his cheeks burn. “You're an omega, right?”
This time, Sakura looked confused, though he was still red. “Yeah? Obviously.”
A brief silence hung between the two of them, in which Momijikawa faintly sensed a scent in the air.
It was a very weak, sniff-and-you’ll-miss-it scent, but it was also certainly the scent of a sweet and content omega.
A noise threatened to come out of his throat in response. He could tell just how comfortable Sakura felt, how incredibly at ease he was. He inhaled deeply. It was light and delicate, almost undetectable if they weren't sitting right next to each other. It smelled so awfully nice. “I… didn't know you were an omega. You never gave off any scent.”
“That's because… It usually complicates things. Some guys act all different just ‘cuz of my gender. Them underestimating me worked for a few times to my advantage, but it eventually just got…” Sakura started shifting in his seat, his smell turning slightly bitter, and oh, Momijikawa is not letting that happen.
He tentatively released some of his own soothing maple-scented pheromones, carefully slow to let the other refuse if he wanted to. When the omega didn't and instead inhaled a little deeper, he was elated. “That sucks. Didn't know there're still jerks with old-fashioned mindsets these days.”
Sakura scoffed, his hackles lowering a little with the familiar topic. “Yeah, well, I always made sure to beat the crap out of any idiots like 'em.”
The initial awkwardness faded a little while Momijikawa slowly savored the omega’s scent. It was mild, reminding him of cherry blossoms with the airy, mostly floral scent. It was so Sakura. Just incredibly perfect.
“But, uh, m’sorry for… purring. Or whatever, earlier. Must've been really weird, huh?” Sakura laughed humorlessly.
The alpha felt his brows furrow. “Weird? Haruka, I told ya, it was completely normal. It's no big deal.”
Despite his repeated consolations, Sakura still kept looking down at his lap guiltily. Which was odd, why would—
“Wait, do you think purring is a bad thing?”
The boy flinched and looked back up at him. “Isn't it?” he murmured.
What? “I- No, no it isn't. In fact I'm flattered, no, honored that ya felt safe enough to purr.” He would be lying if he said that his inner alpha wasn't overjoyed.
“Safe? Is...” Sakura looked truly, utterly lost. “Is that what purring means?”
Then Momijikawa felt his heart drop at the implication, when he remembered just exactly the upbringing this boy was given, or the lack thereof.
“Haruka,” he said again and again because he noticed how the other eased at the sound of his name. “Purring means you feel safe and comfortable. D'you know how happy I am that ya can feel that way in my home? Knowing that I can provide that for ya is, really, giving me more than I can ever ask for.”
He waits a little for Sakura to mull over his thoughts. It breaks his heart to see him agonize over this (he wants to sock his poor excuse of a father because how can they neglect him to the point where he doesn't even know how to feel safe, how an omega should normally feel?!), to be stripped of such a basic right as a teen.
Ah, fuck it, he might as well just be blunt about it. “You've been with me through the roughest times of my life. I don't wanna see ya beat yourself up over something you can't control, ‘kay? Save that for actual fights.”
Finally, Sakura smiles. It's all soft and genuine and pretty that Momijikawa feels his stomach do real funny somersaults. That's been happening a lot lately. “Thanks, Sakae.”
Momijikawa's reminiscing gets interrupted by the ping of a notification from his phone. He glances at it and immediately feels himself smile.
HARUKA
u free tom?
sent 15:04
ME
Yeah, whats up
sent 15:05
HARUKA
the aunties down the street gave me too much. bread. do u want any
sent 15:06
ME
Sure. Ill drop by at noon
seen 15:06
Momijikawa stares fondly at the black cat he had set as Sakura’s profile picture. Their daily texts were some of the highlights of his rather mundane days. It often happened during the weekends or when classes would get a little too dull, which was conveniently almost all the damn time. Furin was a place where the teachers arrived late and left early, after all. Graduating really was just a matter of putting on at least a thread of the uniform or gakuran (which most of them hardly followed) and attending at least one class. It’s how he could stop going to school for months, yet all the teachers gave him were some mandatory worksheets without sparing another glance. Even before that, he had seldom attended class, so it wasn’t really a concern to any of them. He was thankful to Umemiya-san, the other third years, and even Sugishita for looking out for him during those times.
It was with the help of everyone at Furin that made him realize he wasn’t alone anymore. He’s grateful to all of them, especially to Sakura, he thinks. My omeg—
He slaps a hand across his mouth, which was letting out an incredibly embarrassing growl. It was getting worse these days, the unconscious possessiveness he felt for his friend. Family, his inner alpha unhelpfully adds. Mate—
Okay, he really needs to keep himself in check.