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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months ago

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ANOTHER WORD FOR HOMESICK (I WANT TO SAY YOUR NAME AGAIN) | M. BACHIRA

☼ tags ; omegaverse, afab + fem!omega!!reader, alpha!bachira, childhood friends to lovers, established reader backstory, coming-of-age, romance, mutual pining, implicit sexual content (virginity loss to an oc), explicit sexual content ft. bonding, knotting, penetration, oral (f!recieving), fingering, praise, lovey dovey dirty talk, petnames (mostly baby) 18+

++ notes: readers appearance is mostly non-descript but they are shorter than bachira and have several piercings and a tattoo which are explained in story.

☼ content warnings ; lore applicable sexism, sexual harassment of reader as a minor (details in authors note, explained further in extended authors note), lore applicable homophobia, implied bisexuality + referenced mutual queerness queerness, underage drinking, heat / estrus as a symptom of puberty

please thoroughly read content warnings and tags before clicking read more.

THIS IS PART ONE. CLICK HERE TO HERE PART TWO.

☼ ao3 link | extended authors note | fics for gaza

☼ wc ; 16.4k / 33.2k

☼ a/n ; sorry for the incredibly long wait. as always i got extremely carried away. but cheers for fujoneet reader coming after this! written as part of the @ficsforgaza intiative

as mentioned above, there is a scene in this part of the fic that has reader experiencing their first heat as a minor omega during their heat.

they are being sexually harassed underage. if you find this content may be too triggering to you - the scene starts at the the [ THIRTEEN ] subheader and ends indicated with ***.

☼ synopsis ; you can't decide on how you feel about alphas, but your resentment or discomfort around them grows stronger over time as an omega who presented particularly young

maybe that's why you feel so devastated upon hearing the news that bachira, your childhood best friend, had been hiding his alpha status from you your whole life.

PART ONE: MAY THE BRIDGES I HAVE BURNED..

[ NINE]

A car speeds past you when you turn the corner. Too fast, you watch it skid to a stop at a red light and feel your face grow flush. You tuck your chin into the collar of your coat, cold numbing your senses.

The mailman is at your door by the time you walk home. He smiles courteously and hands you the mail directly when you approach your front gate. You bow to him politely before taking it, the cold making your eyes water.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” He says. Nakamura oji-chan has been running mail to this route since you were a little baby. Mama said he has a grandchild now so he works less hours. You’re glad to see him. “You’ve grown so big. What year are you in now?”

You hold up four fingers. “Fourth year. I’m nine,”

“You’re growing up well, then huh? That’s good.”

You’re not tall enough to reach the kitchen cabinets at the highest height and still losing baby teeth but other than that you think it’s pretty okay, so you nod. He laughs before turning to leave, and you make sure to stand in front of the door before he goes to be polite.

You shuffle through the mail as you walk inside. Warm air makes your face tingle. There’s two letters for you today. They’re addressed to your parents, but they’ve got your name on them so you think it’s okay to call them yours. One letter is from the hospital, but there’s another one too.

You don’t know what it is. It’s in a separate black envelope with a raised seal along and government postage. There’s some stuff for nii-chan and mama - plus some coupons that papa gets from a subscription service.

You announce yourself loudly once you’ve looked through it all. Only papa’s brown shoes are in the rack which means he’s the only one home.

Slipping your shoes off, you slide your feet into brand new Doraemon slippers and prop your bag up against the couch in the living room before finally hanging up your coat. Your tummy rumbles after you regain feeling in your fingers, and you decide the nap can be pushed back till after snack time making your way towards the kitchen.

You make sure to take the mail with you. Mama always tell you to leave it on the counter so she can take a look when she’s home. You’re good at remembering this.

Papa is working at the dining table when you come in. He works on a fancy computer from home some days. He smiles when he sees you, bright eyes pointed toward you. You decide to hand him the mail directly.

“Hey, sweetie.” His smile is soft. Ripe oranges sit for you on the counter, cut evenly on your favorite plate. Papa nudges them towards you with a smile. Quickly, you run to wash your hands and sit adjacent to him upon return. You start snacking on your oranges, wondering if he sliced them for you or just to eat. You sit folded up in the dining room chair as papa pats your head per routine. “How was school?”

You look down. “It was okay. We learned about praying mantis bugs. My friends thought they were scary but I thought they were cool, at least a little…”

Papa sits and waits for you to say more expectantly. You shrug, unable to think of anything more to say.

“They are, aren’t they? They’re really important to our eco-system.” Papa says. You nod. He starts to explain more to you about praying mantis bugs and you do your best to listen even as you feel your eyelids start to droop. You get sleepy early in winter because it’s dark so fast.

Even though you’re not listening too closely, you notice papa stops talking half-way through a sentence. You peek at him through your lashes. He’s holding the special envelope from before. Papa is very quiet when he reads it.

“What’re you reading?”

His eyes go wide. You wonder if papa is also tired, since he seems so surprised you’re there. His brows are furrow - putting the letter face down on the dining room table. He’s silent for a long time, though you don’t fuss to ask again.

“We got some important news in the mail,” Papa says quietly. He seems a little different somehow. “We’ll sit down when and talk about it when mama gets home, okay?”

“Am I in trouble?”

He smiles at you like normal this time but he still seems a little sad. “Not at all sweetheart. It’s just an important talk so I think we should be all together. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” You tell him, looking down at your lap trying to figure out what to say so he stops seeming sad. “It’ll be okay, papa.”

Briefly surprised, he smiles again, using his hand on your face to pull you close to him wet kiss on your temple that you take in stride. You’re glad he seems to feel better.

“That’s right, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

When mama comes home, her and papa sit and talk for a long time in the kitchen. They send you to nii-chans room. Predictably, he turns you away when you knock on his door and goes down to complain to your parents. You think that whatever happened must be more serious than you thought, since he comes back up and lets you sit in his room without complain upon return.

Nii-chan rarely invites you to do things with him by yourself, so you’re surprised when he invites you to his lap so you can watch him play games.

Mama always says he’s just going through a phase when he’s being mean. You think that makes sense. You’re happy when he’s nice, though.

After a while, papa comes to get you. Him and nii-chan talk in whispers about something and take not-so-subtle glances.

Papa starts to explain a little to you as you go down stairs, holding his hand. He squeezes it tighter than normal.

“Do you know what an omega is, sweetheart?”

You nod. You’ve got a vague understanding at least. Nii-chan is an alpha, papa is an omega and mama is a beta. It was hard for mama and papa to have you, so they consider you both miracles.

“Well, today, we got news about what you are,” Papa says. He tries to smile. “And you’re an omega like me.’

“Oh,” You say. You look up at him as you walk down the stairs. “Is that bad?”

He shakes his head when you ask, but strangely doesn’t end up saying no directly.

After you find out you’re an omega, nii-chan walks you to school for a few weeks.

You find this to be very strange for several reasons.

For one, nii-chan doesn’t really like school and he doesn’t seem to like spending time with you either. He started going this year, you think - something mama had said about getting his life sorted. Either way, he clearly doesn’t want to be going at all.

So, it doesn’t make sense when he starts accompanying you even a little.

“I can walk to school by myself,” You say, not really meaning anything by it. He stares down at you. You aren’t sure why he’s so mad. Nii-chan always seems a litle bit mad at everything. You wonder if all alphas are like that.

“Don’t be annoying,” He says, harsh. You bite your tongue and turn your gaze to the sidewalk under your feet.

“I’m not being annoying,” You clutch the straps of your bag, because you’re not. He’s the one who suddenly decided to walk you, which makes him the more annoying one. Plus, he’s always causing trouble at home anyway, not you.

“Didn’t they explain to you that you’re an omega?”

You look up at him confused wondering why it matters. He stares at you for a long time, and even gets angry again before scratching the back of his neck. His hand comes down to the top of your head and you flinch, expecting him to mess your hair up but he pats it instead.

“Stupid brat,” He sighs after that. You huff but try not to let it show. “Worry about yourself and shut up.”

[ TEN ]

There’s a playground near your house that’s a few minutes walk. It has a rusty swing set but a nice slide. Most importantly, there’s a patch of concrete you can jump rope and draw on. You like going there most of all with Miki-chan. Not today though. Miki-chan is out of town to visit her granny in Osaka.

Nii-chan offered to take you but you usually refuse him. It’s not to be mean, but just because doing things with nii-chan always makes you a little sad.

He’s moved from home now, but you still feel weird when you see him since he hasn’t liked you all this time. Mama tells you not to hold it against him - and that you’ll understand him better when you’re older. You hope that’s true. You try not to hold it against him.

But it doesn’t mean you want him with you at the park.

(You feel especially dejected when nii-chan acts cold to you but you can’t be sure why. Papa says it probably has something to do with your hormones, since nii-chan is an alpha. Something about packbonding. You don’t quite get it.

It’s starting to feel like every problem you have is because of being an omega, but you try to keep that thought to yourself so you don’t make papa sad.)

You bring your jump ropes and chalk along with you. The sky is half-blue, half-grey. You wonder if it might rain on your way there or if it’ll be blue and warm all over by then. You like the rain, but you’d prefer sunshine today so you can draw with chalk.

You think of things to do. You’ll sit on the swings first then jump rope, thenn draw. Or maybe it will rain and you’ll have to run home. You hope you didn’t jinx yourself.

Your neighborhood is small so you know the names and faces of all the kids there. Even the little ones who are in the grades beneath yours. Mama tells you it’s important to know your neighbors. You aren’t really trying to remember for that reason, though. It’s more like it bugs you not to know. You’re always like that.

Papa uses the word meticulous to describe you. Meh-tick-you-lus. It’s easy to say but hard to spell.

(Nii-chan says you’re just acting like an omega when you do things like that. This makes your parents upset, especially papa. You never take nii-chan seriously when he complains though. He complains about everything.)

When you arrive at the playground, there’s a boy on the grass playing with a soccer ball by himself. You’ve never seen him before. He’s got big wide-eyes and a shock of yellow hair underneath which is super cool. His hair is long, just a little shorter than yours and he even has bangs. You wonder if he’s an omega too, since you’ve only seen omega boys be that pretty.

Your heart beat fasts. It’d be nice to make a new friend, though you’re a bit unsure what to say. You’re a little nervous to approach him but you reason it’d be stranger not to.

“Hi,”

The boy stops playing with his ball, doing a trick to kick it up into his hands. He’s cool. Or at least very interesting. His eyes are bright, dark brown with a touch of yellow like his hair. You wonder if grows like that or if he’s allowed to dye it. He stares at you for a long time wordlessly. You shift your weight on your feet.

“Hi,” He says back.

You smile.

“What’s your name?”

“Bachira,”

He asks for yours and return and you give it to him.

“How old are you?”

“I’m ten,”

“Really? Me too,”

“Do you know how to play soccer?”

You shake your head. “My nii-chan plays it sometimes at his school, but I dunno how. I prefer jump rope. I can do some tricks with a jump rope.”

He lights up when you mention your nii-chan plays soccer, eager to ask you about it. “Is he good at it?”

“I think so,” You reply honestly. You ended up going to a lot of games when you were little. He used to practice lots in your backyard too and stayed after school. The memory makes you a little sad “He wanted to play it more but he got hurt. We went to a lot of matches when I was a baby. He has some trophies and stuff.”

“That’s so cool,” Bachira gushes. You shrug because you don’t really feel like agreeing. “Do you think he would play soccer with me?”

You shake your head dejectedly, eyes cast to the ground. “Probably not. He barely plays with me so I don’t think he’d play with you.”

You feel a little bad telling him that given he seems so excited, but it’s true. Soccer or not. It’d also be a little unfair if he played with Bachira, you think. Bachira visibly deflates.

“Oh,”

“It’s okay. I don’t think I’d be good at soccer but you can tell me about it.” You say, because Bachira seems fun to be around. He doesn’t seem interested but you go on. “The thing you did with your ball earlier was cool.”

He lights up again and you smile softly. “Really? I know a lot of other tricks, too. I’ll show them to you!”

You nod. “Okay. I’m gonna draw on the concrete while you play.”

You sit on the nearby patch of concrete and set your jump rope besides you as you open up your box of chalk - all brand new. You came in deciding to draw a cat or bunny, but decide to draw a soccer ball as a peace offering to your new companion.

“Okay! But you have to look up when I tell you or you’ll miss my tricks.”

“Sure,” You tell him.

As soon as you sit down down to draw, Bachira starts talking a mile a minute about soccer. He took your words to heart it seems like. You think he must really like soccer, maybe even more than you like jump rope and you really like jump rope. But you don’t mind listening to Bachira talk. He kind of reminds you of Miki-chan, who also talks a lot. It’s good since you prefer not to talk much.

“So the tricks and cool stuff you do with your feet is called dribbling?”

He brightens at the fact you put it together without him saying “Yeah!” following it up with “You’re really nice.”

Your brows raise in surprise as you shake your head. Embarrassed, you direct your gaze down towards your lap.

“Not really. I’m just normal.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just grins as he keeps going. You decide to keep drawing instead of talking, listening to Bachira ramble. He tells you to draw for a while he practices his tricks, so he can show you the best ones and you agree without any hassle.

You look through your plastic box of chalk, smiling as you choose a color. You decide to draw with dandelion yellow.

Bachira brings you home to meet his mom after he runs out of tricks to show you.

On the way there, he tells you more about her and himself. She’s his only parent, and she makes art so he thinks you’d like meeting her. Mama usually tells you not to follow strangers, but Bachira doesn’t feel like a stranger. He’s your friend and you find you really like him.

When you get there, Bachira’s mom seems very happy to meet you. She’s pretty and smells like paint. She asks you if you know your parents numbers, since they might be worried about you disappearing and you give it to her, even though you know you’ll get scolded.

It takes mama and papa twenty minutes to come over. Mama scolds you about doing something dangerous by yourself. You tell her it wasn’t dangerous because you were with Bachira and you really like Bachira.

They don’t scold you again after you say it.

(Bachira becomes apart of your daily life as easy as breathing. Despite going to different schools, you always walk to and from school together after meeting. You’re close friends, maybe even closer than you and Miki-chan who you’ve known since you were a baby.

Bachira always comes to pick you up anyway, and you walk home from school together every single day. He always has one hundred things to tell you but you like to listen to each and every one. You like how much Bachira has to say about everything.

On the way home, you play rock-paper-scissors on who’s house to go to. You like it best when Bachira comes over, but if nii-chan is home, you normally go over to his. Sometimes, you wish you went to the same school. Being with Bachira is always fun.

It’d be nice if you could be together all the time. You think if you were always with him, you’d never be bored. You wonder if it’s too much to hope Bachira feels the same. )

“So, you’re an omega?”

Bachira and you are playing in the yard today. Your room is getting renovated. According to otou-san, it should’ve been done a while ago to accommodate your nests but it’s getting done now instead. You’re in the backyard with a book, staring up at him as he joins you under the shade. It’s the end of summer break and everything is too hot.

You look at him. “Uh-huh. Otou-san is too.”

He stares at you for a long time before joining you in the grass. You feel weirdly self-conscious of the space he occupies next to you. You’ll be eleven soon enough. Bachira drapes his head in your lap as you sit, staring up at you. You don’t bother moving him. He’s always like that.

He puts his hands up and shades his face from the sun. His eyes glow yellow gold just like always.

“Does that mean you like alphas?”

The question is embarrassing somehow. Makes you feel weird because you can’t answer right away. You cast your gaze away and shrug, pretending to read your book but finding it hard to focus with Bachira’s eyes on you.

You read in a book that alpha and omegas fall in love most naturally. Sometimes they like betas. But you’ve always felt sure you like omegas, and you don’t want to lie to Bachira so you don’t.

“I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “I’m supposed too,”

“But do you?”

You can’t answer him right away. You scrunch your nose and think of nii-san, the only alpha you know personally. The idea of dating someone with any similarities to him troubles you, even though you know he’s not a bad guy. You shake your head.

“I don’t know. Alphas are too much,” You say after some time. That feels like the right choice. Sometimes, you see older kids and alphas and they all feel that way. “And they’re scary.”

“Then what about omegas?”

That feels easy to answer. Bachira stares at you intently and you flush, turning away and covering your face with your hand. “I like them…they’re pretty and smell nice.”

“Hm,” Bachira says. His expression is hard to read. You make a face at him, head tilted asking the same thing. “I think I might like alphas. I dunno though. I don’t know what I am,”

A pang of disappointment makes your chest ache but you bury it and smile at him. Just barely, corners of your lips lightly upturned. “That means we’re opposite.”

“But in a way it means we fit together right?” Bachira says, same as usual. Expectant. Content. Like it’s not a big deal at all. You nod and cast your gaze down to your lap again.

“Yeah. Right.”

[ ELEVEN ]

Fifth year students have special lessons for secondary sexes, before a secondary health examination.

In your fourth year, you learned about the characteristics of your primary sex which is most important for betas. Most people are betas, so you guess it makes sense they spend so much more time about it. Still, it’s a little surprising how little your teacher really discusses…anything at all.

You try to pay attention to the lesson but keep tuning out, finding it boring and most of all - not very useful. Otou-san had this conversation with you already. It’s not anything new.

You don’t mean to sound like a know-it-all of course, but with the way otou-san quizzes you on it, you’re pretty sure you know more than most of your classmates and maybe even your teacher.

You find your teacher leaves out a lot of important details about alphas and omegas, though you don’t feel you can or should correct her. During your lesson, you start to understand why Otou-san insisted on making you learn at home.

Reflecting on it, you think being an omega is a hassle. Sometimes it seems scary. Most times though, it just feels inconvenient. When people find it out about you, they always act like they know you. But they only know you’re an omega, so you doubt that’s true.

Your first heat hasn’t come yet since you’re on lots of medicines but you get all the same growing pains. New, tiny fangs are already forming in your mouth and your scent is stronger than most kids your age. Your body is already changing, growing and you have to get more check-ups than other people.

Okaa-san says that’s normal. That you’re normal. But it doesn’t really feel that way. You notice otou-san never uses the word normal, only says that you’re perfectly healthy.

You wonder if it’s something so strange that you’re teacher can’t discuss it. If your disposition is something so offputting. Omega’s are uncommon but not unheard of, right? So why does everyone seem so hush-hush?

You don’t know how to explain the feeling. It’s lonely. People know you’re an omega, but you don’t even know what that means. Don’t know what it means to feel like an omega either. But supposedly it dictates so much of your life.

You keep yourself from sighing as to not disturb your class. The led of your pencil snaps from pressure as you write in your work-book.

[ TWELVE ]

You return to the classroom early after health examinations.

It’s the start of the sixth year of your elementary. Most people are finding out their secondary sex for the first time today, but since you already know yours - you’re given a pass to go back and read quietly in the classroom until it’s over. Some people have already developed with strong, obvious scents but getting the official results require a medical check up.

You want to linger a little more so you can talk with all of your classmates but your P.E. teacher shoos you out of the room before long.

After you change out of your gym clothes and back into your uniform, you traverse down the hall and take the long way back. It’s April. The sun is out, peeking through the leaves as warm shades of spring bloom outside your schools windows.

The hallway is unusually quiet. You try to keep your steps light so the hall monitor doesn’t write you up for making noise and causing a disturbance.

You haven’t been able to shake the strange feeling since morning. Such an important day, met with anticipation - but you exist entirely outside of it. You almost feel noting towards it at all.

You’ve known you were an omega for nearly three years now and you’ve already heard rumors about you in relation.

It is isn’t all that important to you. But it is, at the same time since it seems important to other people.

Maybe it’s because you already know yours, but it makes you kind of uncomfortable to hear how your classmates talk about it.

You’ve never liked talking about being an omega, even though it’s not a secret. You pretend not to hear them when you’re in earshot but you always do.

Omegas are weaker, more annoying, too emotional. The only thing they have is attracting alphas, and most people want an alpha to take care of them. Alphas are bound to be successful, and they’re good at sports. It’s great that they have easier chances of seducing them and betas, too. They’re easy and weak so naturally an alpha will want to take care of them.

You’re used to hearing it, and rarely bother to correct them no matter how wrong they are. Sometimes, you want to point out to them you’re one of those things at all - but then, you wonder if that makes you weak and emotional so you never do. You’re not weak, nor annoying, and you rarely show your feelings to anyone.

You can’t make sense of whats expected of you and why your classmates laugh you off when you mention you like omegas, either. You’ve always preferred omegas and their company. They’re comfortable, understanding, easy to be with and smell nice.

There’s something exhausting about the idea you need to be with an alpha. All of it is tiresome. You can’t help but get the impression that from here on, it’ll only get harder to deal with and you don’t want that. You don’t want it to matter. You just want to be yourself.

Lost in thought, you arrive at the classroom. One of your friends seems to have arrived at the same time. Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her.

Akemi-chan is one of your good friends. She’s beautiful. She has long, straight hair and cut-across bangs and always smiles. There’s a mole under her eye and her scent is ripe and summery like peaches. She smiles when she sees you.

She’s so pretty and she stands to close to you - an arm around your waist with a comfortable laugh.

“Guess what!”

“Did you find out your secondary sex?”

She grins, brightening several degrees. “I’m an omega. And,” Her voice drops suddenly. “Chiyo-san is an alpha!”

“Ah,” Your voice drops.“Did you like Chiyo-san?”

She nods. “Now that I know she’s an alpha, I like her more, I guess?”

You try not to look sad, and try to quiet your heartbeat at the way she shows you affection she wouldn’t had you not both been omegas. She doesn’t pull away from you despite knowing you like omegas, so you still feel grateful. Akemi draws her cheek against yours gently. Scents you in the way friends do with her wrists.

You nod listen to her. The listless melancholy of whats forward draws your attention outside.

You notice storm clouds coming in as Akemi looks alongside you. It feels different.

It feels a little too early in spring for such stormy rain.

“I didn’t get the results of my secondary sex exam,”

You’re on your way home back from school when Bachira blurts this out to you. Your eyes widen slightly in surprise, turning to look at him so you can understand his feelings better. Given how quiet Bachira’s been today - you figured something was wrong.

You look at him, unsure of what to make of it.

“Does that bother you?”

Your question surprises him in return. It’s not unheard for people to present later. It manifests in everyone eventually, even betas. You don’t remember all the terminology though it has something to do with a specific hormone.

Bachira thinks on your question before looking down at his shoes. He shrugs. “Mm. Dunno. Guess it just makes me feel even more different.”

You think about what Bachira seems to go through at school and feel your heart tug. That makes sense you think.

You shake your head, with new and sudden resolve. “I think it’s fine. It kinda makes sense. I got mine early so you get yours late. We’re always like that, right?”

You hope the attempt to comfort him reaches him. When you look over and see him smiling, you feel unimaginable relief. The world feels more colorful when Bachira smiles. He pauses in the middle of the street, throwing an arm around your neck with a grin that feels like himself again.

“Yeah. Right.”

[ THIRTEEN ]

You can’t tell it’s your heat right away.

A fever breaks along your skin in a cramped train car. sweat clinging to your skin underneath your middle school uniform, a heat rash making your whole body itch. The noise around you becomes static, cottony as your heart starts thudding against your ribs.

Your ears are ringing. Time slows down around you as the speed of the subway seems to double underneath your feet. Your knees buckle as you try and hold yourself upright as the intense and unfamilar feeling of desire violates your senses. Too intense for your body. It doesn’t feel like you. You’re not in your right mind.

It’s too early. Most people’s heats don’t come for another year or two at least. You feel so unlucky as the pain flares, mixed with something burning between your legs.

You try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You take the same train home every single day at the same time. Plenty of students take it, but clubs keep you later than most.

Bachira often comes with you just like he has today, so you focus on him. His middle school is a short-distance from yours so you try and walk home together when you can. A small promise that means the world to you. If you can’t go the full way, you always meet up at the intersection and walk the short distance together instead.

You focus on Bachira as he stands next to you. He’s watching a game of soccer on his new phone, turned sideways with a single headphone in. You watch it over his shoulder. You try too. Your skin scorches, hot like something crash-landing through the atmosphere as a tension grows between your legs. Sweat breaks out around your collar and the small of your spine. You feel out of your body - floating just outside of it. Your neck throbs, scent glands suddenly aching. Both wrist and neck, all of you—aching.

You can barely make any sense of your surroundings anymore. Your breathing is erratic as you grip onto the metal pole tight and try to make sense of your surroundings. You want to hold out until you can get to a stall. You’ve had a plan for this for as long as you can remember.

You just need to keep it together until the train stops.

There’s a man behind you. You don’t notice him until you do. You’re still wearing your uniform - short skirt rolled up to combat the heat of the season. A calloused hand reaches underneath the fabric. You think it’s an accident until it sticks between your inner thigh. It slides up slowly, getting closer to where it shouldn’t be. Your breath hitches. You shiver. Your body is hot.

“Are you an omega?” An older man, the one behind you murmurs. His voice is crass, grating and dark against your skin. Your stomach twists with fear as your gaze freezes you into place. Unable to find your voice as he touches you, you try not to recoil. Disgusted at your body reacts to the involuntary arousal that spikes in result of it. He’s an alpha. The acrid, overbearing nausea of an alphas scent drives itself into your center like a stake. You hate it so much it’s unbearable but every is so hot.

You have no control. Over anything. You’re terrified and barely there.

Fear makes you jump. Your conscious mind slowly loses its grip as you feel your skin dampen with increasing heat, skull throbbing. Your heat is coming and it’s coming fast. You breathe heavily in a pant, trying to ignore the sensation. Trying to ignore everything, just to drown out the oppressive scent of alpha invading your lungs as you tuck your chin.

“You’re a little young to be presenting like this. Having your heat on a train like this,” His voice weighs down on you oppresively. Your heart is so loud, clamoring noisily behind your ears as tears prick at your eyes. His hands go further and further and you flinch. Brushing where you don’t want to be touched you jolt.

our jolting makes Bachira look up from his phone.

“Are you trying to tempt an alpha?”

You’re not very conscious. You’re disgusted. You know this is normal but it feels wrong. You feel wrong. The horror is grounding in it’s own right. Fog clouds your mind, makes your senses sharp. You feel split at the seams. Fighting with your own consciousness, you can’t think of anything except trying to suppress your instincts. But it’s painful, so painful - and something sticky is running down your legs. It’s not you, it’s your body. It’s violating.

Your instincts want an alpha. Your body wants something you can’t understand to the point it aches inside of you, aches between your legs and makes you want to throw up.

Before the man behind you can get any further, your shaken awake by the sound of him practically shrieking. Bachira appears in the corners of your vision.

You’ve never seen him so angry.

You can see his hand reaching behind you. Your eyes gloss over as you stare at Bachira. The hand touching you is gone and you feel immediate comfort. You ground yourself in the warmth of his eyes. You try to find his face amidst your tears.

“Bachira-kun,” Your voice is a whimper. You tuck your head against his shoulder. “I’m scared, I’m so scared, it hurts,”

He stiffens and then his voice comes. It’s soothing, sounds just like him. High and soft. He hums a lullaby to you like nothings wrong. When his hand rests on your lower back, it doesn’t make you feel like crawling out of your own skin.

“It’s okay,” He whispers. “It’s safe. You’re safe. I’ll protect you, promise.”

It’s weird to see him this calm. The loud Bachira you know is never so poised, but he holds you steady. You whimper as he pushes you against his scent glands. He smells sweet. You huff it involuntarily. Bachira doesn’t tell you to stop.

When the train comes to a slow, you let him move you through the station and take you to the bathroom. Your knees are weak. He’s not the type to worry but you’ve made him so concerned.

He opens a stall and sets you gently on the toilet. The cool linoleum sobers you enough to look at Bachira. His worry, his concern, his care. You whimper.

“Hug me,” You practically beg. He hesitates, clicking himself into the stall alongside you as you let yourself drape around his waist. It’s not very different from how you usually are, is it? Bachira is always so affectionate, yet it feels so different.

He rubs the scent glands on his wrist on your neck.

Above you, Bachira is on his phone. Your brain is too hazy to make the details, but you think you hear your fathers voice on the other side of the line.

“Ji-chan will be here soon,” Bachira says. You clutch the back of Bachira’s uniform. It’s the first time he’s ever felt so broad. “Don’t worry.”

“Meguru. Thank you,” You say in a half-sob.

“Anytime,” He says, his voice small and high and so familiar. “I’ll always protect you. Promise. No alpha will touch you again.”

***

The reality of your first heat should be what you expect. You know these things happen. Otou-san has told you to be cautious everywhere you go for the last four years without fail.

But when it happens to you, it’s the first time you feel resentful about your secondary sex. Anger towards your body first, for not being able to control itself. Angry at the world next, for making you feel as if it’s your fault.

You grow averse to alphas in the after math. You try not to be. You try not to let your discomfort show and try not to become the sort of person who makes judgements on secondary sex - but for a long time, just the thought of being around them makes your bones chill.

The only thing that keeps you from being all negative is Bachira. His anger for you when discussing that day is enough to ease the burden. Bachira bears your hurt like its his.

You start calling Bachira, Meguru when you call him after he stays with you during your heat. It’s the last bridge of closeness to cross - the last barrier between you. He calls you by your first name too, sometimes a nickname if the mood suits him.

You find yourself so thankful to be his friend some days it makes you want to cry.

You find yourself even more grateful when he tells you he’s an omega. It comforts you. You think, he’s too good to be an alpha and too goo to be with one but you never tell him. It’ll happens someday and you think you’ll be sad.

But for now, you’re happy being by his side a little while longer.

[ FOURTEEN ]

Miki-chan invites you to celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a visit to the mall.

There’s a huge mall a little over half an hour away from Chiba that she’s been dying to visit since forever agp. Her nee-san takes all of you in her nice car, even letting you spend money on her card within reason. She’s a lot older than all of you, twice your age with a big girl job in Tokyo. She’s stylish and kind and always has fun nail designs because she works for a famous fashion magazine.

Otou-san has also given you an excessive amount of pocket money after you told him about your day-trip. You really weren’t planning on getting anything, but you’re glad to have something in case Bachira wants to make a purchase.

You’re stopped in for frozen yogurt, following Bachira as Miki-chan and another mutual friend, Sasaki-san wait for you to come up front. You watch amusedly as Bachira piles his frozen yogurt with more toppings. You’re pretty sure he’s not even going to finish it.

You peer at his cup from over his shoulder, watching him pile gummy bears onto his already loaded cup of frozen yogurt, wrinkling your nose in distaste.

“What flavor of froyo did you get this time?”

“Sea salt chocolate. For balance,” He says, dead seriously.

You smile involuntarily before brushing past him, spooning yogurt chips into your own cup. You get different things depending on your mood but always keep it simple. Since it’s hot and humid, you’re getting a coconut flavor with shaving, yogurt chips, fruit and strawberry sauce and sprinkles for good measure.

“You’re too much,” You move past him and wait for him to finish up at the counter. “But if you’re happy,”

“I’m always very happy. I have no place for sadness!” Bachira replies.

You give him another crooked smile, turning to where Miki and Sasaki are chatting.

“I’ll pay for Meguru-kun,” You announce. His frown is instant.

“Eh? No way, I brought money though? That’s why I put so much stuff,”

He’s pouting. You wonder if all omega boys are that cute naturally or if it’s just Bachira.

“Buy something with it later.”

He pouts, swallowing his complaint as he knows it’ll fall on deaf ears.

“Fine,” He huffs, placing his alongside yours on the weight. The cashier gives you two a knowing smile that you miss as she rings up, sticking a color-changing spoon in each before passing it back along with your change. “I’ll get you back for this.”

You don’t say anything as you watch the weight counter.

“Over one thousand yen…. you’re such a glutton,”

“I’ll split it with you as thanks,”

You make a face of disgust that makes him cackle as you both sit down and join your other friends. Bachira drags his chair to sit as close to you as possible, fully inserting himself into your personal space per usual. You eat a spoonful of your frozen yogurt, unconcerned. Sasaki stares at you for a bit. Your eyes meet and you tilt your head in confusion but she turns away.

“Miki-chan, is there anything else you want to look for?”

“New shoes, maybe.”

You glance at her then shake your head. “Pick something else.”

“…Okay. Thank you in advance, I guess,” Miki-says with a laugh. You smile a little.

You look over at Bachira who’s very enraptured in his fro-yo.. You lick your thumb as reach over and wipe the corners of his mouth - stained with chocolate.

“You eat like a kid,” Fondness unmistakable in your voice.

He shakes his head sagely. “Eating something delicious is supposed to make you eat like a kid, you know? And we are kids. This is what it means to be free citizens of the world! Of this great nation!”

“Uh-huh. I’ll take your word for it, but clean your mouth at least.”

Bachira looks at you with smeared mess of chocolate, worsened by another sugary bite. “Why should I worry about it when you’re here to do it for me?”

You give him flat look. Despite yourself though, you use a napkin from the middle of the table to wipe his mouth off. Miki scoffs at you both.

“If you’re too spoiled, she’ll get sick of you,” Miki-chan says bitterly.

“She’d never get sick of me. You on the other hand,”

You shake your head as the two of them hiss at each other. You’ve been friends for years and they still argue. It’s hard to say they’re oil and water. If anything, they’re so similar it baffles you why they don’t get along better then they do you. After a minute of glaring, she sighs and goes back to thinking of her shopping trip.

“Well if shoe’s are out of the question, maybe some new earrings. Oh! And we should get you some makeup you can wear at school.”

You shake your head. “I told you I’m not interested.”

“You’re wasting your beautiful omega looks. I won’t allow it,” Miki pouts at you even as you shake your head. “I promise it’ll be easy stuff. I just think it would look nice on you.”

Bachira doesn’t even look up. “You’re pretty the way you are.”

“Don’t say something that embarrassing,”

“It’s not embarrassing if it’s true,” He voices, sing-songy. His insistence only worsens your frown.

Sasaki glances between you again, you think. It’s too brief for you to catch but the weight of it lingers even when she pulls her gaze.

“Please? Just a little? I’m buying it for you so it’s fine right.”

“I know you said you want to practice on me but it’s not just that, right?”

Miki smiles at you, coy. “Eh… maybe? I want to max your potential more like. You’re not seeing my exquisite vision but I will make you.”

You shake your head, and sigh - pretending to be more troubled than you are. “Fine. We’ll go after. I want to go to another store too. For stationary,”

“You’re too much of a bookworm. Boring. Nerd!” Bachira says automatically.

“The one time we agree on something,” Miki replies.

You frown at both of them. “It’s important that the world has boring people. How else would we have laws?”

“Even you thinking about laws is so boring,”

You shake your head, displeased.

Conversation flows more steadily between you, Miki and Sasaki. Bachira tunes out, draping himself all over you once he’s done eating. He fidgets with your hands, resting his head on your shoulder. You adjust so you can eat while letting him.

“Pee,” Bachira announces abruptly. He stands up, arms over his head as his shirt slides over his belly, exposing skin. “Need to pee really bad. Pee time,”

“Do you want me to come with you?” You ask.

He looks down at you and smiles widely before shaking his head. “Mm, no. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself. I’m no longer a kid!”

You give him a raise brow in reply to say can you? that makes him stick his tongue out. You chuckle at that. “Go pee then. Don’t get lost.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

Bachira does a salute before scurrying off to find the closest bathroom. Sure that’ll occupy his time, you smile to yourself as take a spoonfuls of your melty frozen yogurt - careful not to spill any as you put in your mouth and go back to conversation.

Sorry about that. What were you saying, Sasaki-san?”

She stares at you for a long time. “Are you two… like… together?”

You blink.

“Sorry?”

“You and him,” Sasaki reiterates. Besides her, Miki snorts.

“What a good question,”

You shoot her a unimpressed look. “Ignore her. No, we’re not.”

“What?” Sasaki says. The genuine disbelief shocks you a little. You’re used to Miki teasing you but not this. “Seriously? Even though he’s like that?”

“Oh, what? Like touchy?” You reply, starting to understand. Miki interrupts you.

“Don’t bother, Sasaki. It’s a lose cause.” She shakes her head.

“Again. Ignore her,” You emphasize, shooting her a glare. “Anyway no. We’re just childhood friends and he’s always been sort of clingy like that.”

“With everyone?” Sasaki says pointedly. “Or is it just because it’s you…?”

You pause.

You’ve never… considered that. You rarely have time to feel overly conscious about what Bachira does or doesn’t do with you. In the first place, he’s not the sort of person that’s easy to predict. He’s got more quirks than you can keep track of but all of it is Bachira. It makes no sense to question his idiosyncrasies this far in. There’s nothing he could do to make you think of him differently. Bachira doesn’t have many friends outside of you to begin with.

You blink a few times, considering it. “No, I’m…sure it’s just with anyone he feels very close too,”

“But to that extent? He was letting off his—“

Miki shoots her a look and shakes her head. You catch it but find yourself unable to ask, lost in thought. Too hung up on what feels like the edge of an epiphany.

There’s a long bout of silence until you shake your head.

Even if it’s only you, it doesn’t make a huge difference.

“Bachira is only interested in alphas,” You reply, remembering. Sasaki seems surprised by that for some strange reason. “It really doesn’t mean anything,”

Before long, Bachira returns to the table. He takes as long as you predicted, but you find you’re a little relieved to see him acting the same. He drops down and places his chin on your head, waiting for you to look up at him.

“Didja miss me?”

A sweet, familiar scent. A soft, high voice. A wild look. You look up at him, reassured by your own reminder of his sexuality. You grin mischievously.

“Not at all,” You say with fake nonchalance. He gasps.

“Rude!”

Yes, it’s fine. Still the same old Bachira.

[ FIFTEEN ]

“Oh,” You can’t mask the surprise in your voice as your older brother sits at the dining room table. “Nii-san.”

Your oldest brother has recently started at a real office job. It’s closer to your childhood home then his apartment, so some nights if he’s too exhausted - he’ll drop in and sleep in his old room. It’s rare you come across him though, since he’s usually home and asleep as soon as it’s night time.

He must’ve come from the office. He’s still wearing his dress shirt and tie, though he has the suit jacket he wears to the office laid over the back of a dining room chair. You try to get used to him looking like that, but the version of him most strongly in your head is all the years he spent as a delinquent.

His straightened out appearance is unusual for you no matter how often you come across it now. You mostly keep in touch through socials and sparse texts, and he sometimes calls you. His hair is dyed a natural color now and he only has his piercings in on days off. The few tattoos he used to show off are now well hidden under his clothes.

But his manor and demeanor are largely the same when he’s relaxed. The way he spreads out when he sits makes him look like the average delinquent. The familiarity of it is comfortable albeit funny.

“You’re home late,”

“I had student council,”

He taps his fingers against the table, a silent gesture for you to sit.

“You’re in student council? Since when?”

You shrug, setting your bag down to join him in the kitchen. “Since school started. I was roped into it,”

“Then are you in other clubs?”

“I’m in a volunteering club. We help the elderly and read with younger classes and help out around school.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, tipping his head back. “We’re complete opposites somehow…”

You purse your lips, faintly amused as you open your fridge up. There’s more pudding then when you left in the morning, but you decide against asking as you take one and open a drawer for a spoon. “You were already skipping class and stuff by then, right? I remembered because you and kaa-san used to argue while I was doing homework.”

“You heard all of that?”

You open the plastic peel off lid and dip into the flan-like texture, nodding indifferently as you sit in the dining room chair across from him. “Uh-huh. Kinda hard not too.”

“It didn’t scare you?”

“Nah,” You tilt your head. “You glaring at me whenever you saw me did though. A little.”

His eyes go wide before sighing. “Sorry. I was a knucklehead back then.”

“It was fine. It made me a bit sad but I’m fine now. And I hope you don’t hate me any more?”

He gives you a half-hearted laugh, still feeling guilty. You’re mostly teasing. Nii-san has only grown increasingly over protective, though you still don’t know what he’s thinking. He also gives you allowance now, which is nice.

He leans back. “Nah, course not. How could I hate such a good kid?”

He reaches over to pet your head as you eat your pudding, giving you a smile you can’t really read. “Your birthday is soon right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Got any plans?”

“I’ll probably drag Meguru-kun around to the bookstore.”

He makes a face at you. “That brat,”

“Don’t call him that.” You frowb. “I don’t get why you hate him so much anyway.”

“Because he’s always hanging around you and he’s—“ He shakes his fist aimlessly, unable to find the words. They’ve had arguments with each other for as long as you can remember. “Whatever. Fine. Just. Don’t marry him,”

“He likes alphas,” You say with ease. He looks at you incredulous, before shaking his head.

“Sure. Even if that changes don’t marry him. Don’t date him either. Settle down with someone nice,”

“No offense, nii-san but that’s not really a lecture I wanna hear from you,”

“See? He’s already rubbing off on you.”

“Huh? The two of you already broke up?”

Bachira lays on your bed on his stomach while you sit at your desk, his legs swinging up in the air. Predictably, he’s watching videos about dribbling on his phone.

You haven’t seen him in a few days but it makes sense that he wouldn’t have heard about it. Your relationship with Inoue wasn’t very public to begin with, at least not on her end. Aside from that, you always got the impression that things would turn out this way.

You’re sure that your own pessimism and detachment is part of the reason.

You busy yourself with the derivatives taunting you on your graphing paper, making an affirmative noise. “A couple of days ago,”

“Ehhh? Wasn’t she totally clingy with you, though?”

You shrug indifferently.

Inoue-san was the only other omega in your grade who likes other omegas. There’s rumours about Suzuki-kun who’s a second year and some other third years you don’t really know. Of them, Inoue was the only one you knew personally. You sit next to each other in class and joined the same clubs coincidentally.

A conversation in the club room making flyers devolved into one about secondary sexes and sexuality. Eventually, you landed on the topic of being an omega. You commiserated about it then, shared some words of camaraderie about the social woes of being the perceived weaker sex and became a little more comfortable with each other. You aren’t sure what thread of conversation exactly led to the talk of you both mutually preferring omegas.

Inoue-san confessed too, that unlike you who couldn’t figure out what you felt towards alphas, she knew with some certainty she didn’t like them at all.

Another few weeks of friendship and the steadily closing distance between you, one thing led to another. Inoue-san confessed to you first in a sort of abrupt and out of the blue way. It was a semi-impulsive decision to date her, but you thought she was pretty and nice. A puppy crush worth something, a youthful love affair.

So after summer break, the two of you started dating.

It was a short lived relationship. A break in routine. You dated for three months and broke up just this last week. The first month of your relationship was nice. You ate lunch together and texted a lot. The second month you went on dates. The third month had been fine for a little before everything seemed to rip at the seams and fall apart.

Inoue-san was nice to be with when you were alone. In the sanctity of storage rooms or her childhood bedroom - where there were no eyes to leer at either of you, she was everything you liked about being with an omegas. Soft skin, pretty eyes, an intoxicating scent that made your brain go alight when you touched her. She was comfortable to be with during your pre-heat, easy to touch and hold and caress.

It made sense to be with her in the way you always thought it would.

Fundamental differences in your feelings about being omegas in a relationship would appear sooner rather than later though. You’re sympathetic, which is why you don’t think you’re as hurt as you should be.

“I kinda knew. In the back of my mind, I guess,” You click the end of your pencil to push out more led, scribbling out some more numbers. “She always avoided crowds. Seemed paranoid about people finding out in general. So I thought it might be something like that.”

“You don’t seem very sad,” Bachira points out. You give him an amused smile from the corner of your eye.

“What kind of best friend would want me to be sad?”

“Nooo,” He whines at you, tossing a stuffed toy at you that you reflexively duck a way from. “I was just worried about you, jeez. Plus, I didn’t really like her, you know?”

There’s no way you couldn’t have known. Bachira being hesitant towards people in your life isn’t anything new. He’s never been fond of any new friends you’ve made, always openly jealous and always asking for assurance that he’s still your number one. Sometimes he’d go as far as doing it in front of them, which you reprimanded him for.

Sometimes.

You roll your eyes. “Oh I know,”

He grins. “I was being so nice this time,” He pouts, rolling onto his back with his arms crossed over his chest. He turns his face to your bedroom wall instead of you. “You should praise me. I wasn’t even mean to her face! Not once,”

“Pfft,” You laugh behind your hands. “Yeah, good job. Still, I didn’t think Inoue-san was that bad. She didn’t do anything to me,”

“She was ashamed of you,” Bachira says. It’s weird. A strangely serious sentiment that makes your eyes go wide.

“Not of me,” You correct. “Of us, maybe. I think she was being sincere when she said she liked me but I mean. I get it. It’s not something I go around telling people either, though I’ve been out for a while,”

There’s some impulse he bites down. It’s not like you’re defending her, but Bachira takes it as such and takes it personally as he does most things. You give him a small smile as you notice, so attuned to his moods. Even his petulance doesn’t shake you. Selfishness comes as naturally to Bachira as breathing.

“I wouldn’t be ashamed to be with you in public,” He bites his tongue again and you want to ask what could be on his mind. He’s intending the words to be lighthearted, but there’s weight there. You aren’t sure how you’re meant to hold it. “If were ever to fall madly in love with each other, I would tell the entire world.”

You try not to let it mean anything. The numbers on your page blur together so much you have to start a problem over. It takes you a second to pull the shake out of your voice.

“If you like something, don’t you usually tell the whole world anyway?” You say sardonically. Bachira frowns, huffs, turns his head away. His ears are pink.

“Yeah,” He says back and leaves it there. “Usually keeping it in makes me feel like I’m gonna explode into a million little pieces. Bleh,”

He slumps back onto one side of your bed and keeps watching his game. The sound of your pencil scratching along the paper makes up for the empty space.

[ SIXTEEN ]

On the field, Bachira shines brighter than any star in the night-sky.

You’re the only one here for todays game. His mom usually comes to whichever one she can, but she has an important exhibition on the other side of the country today. Bachira didn’t show any disappointment about it. You’re not sure how he feels but you doubt it affected too much.

When it comes to soccer, he becomes completely single-minded.

The soccer Bachira plays is a reflection of him. Golden yellow and free, like a shade only he can color with, that touches everything and makes it shine in its path.

The Bachira you know—the Meguru you’ve known your whole life is different when it comes to soccer. Soccer is the precedence of his entire existence. For Bachira, who enjoys being completely and entirely uninhibited, there’s nothing as freeing as the square PVC frames of a net.

He splits his life in two ways. Soccer and everything else.

The field are still mildly damp today. It lingers in the air, cooling on your skin as you watch him from the stands in utter awe. Rays of light spill through gaps in the thick clouds over head, shining down on the field and making each move vibrant.

The game goes on around you bustling endlessly. Noise from all sides. Whether that be in the stands with people talking amongst themselves, the shouting of coaches, or the players talking to one another. It’s loud all around, blurry movements of team mates passing the fall back and forth make up the scene. Guarding and passing, taking each other into consideration as all team sports encourage.

The soccer that Bachira plays is different from the soccer everyone else plays on the field. Selfish, ego-centric, enigmatic - you find that you can’t take a single breath or you might miss something. It’s antithetical how team sports are played. Eye-catching and flashy as he dribbles the ball along with his feet in a movement like a dance.

He’s mesmerizing. Despite all the things happening around you all at once, your gaze is fixated completely and utterly on Bachira. So bright it outshines everything else, everyone else, without feeling apologetic. Without reason or rhyme, without strategy. A soccer that demands to be seen.

This is a game with many players, but to you - it is simply the stage in which Bachira shows off his talent in it’s rawest form. Even in a place not well suited for it, Bachira shines. You’ve never seen anything so brilliant. It’s been years since you last attended a game and seen this applied version of himself.

It’s the first time Bachira has ever felt so close while feeling so far. It’s the first time you can’t hide from him, pinned underneath the honey-viscous weight of his presence.

He dribbles the ball between his feet and kicks hard into center stage, scores a goal so beautifully unpredictable the whole crowd roars in cheers and Bachira laughs like he’s delighted.

You love Bachira. You realize this as he stands like a center piece in the field.

Like the moon loves the sun. Like the sand loves the tide. Like shadows love light. Bachira is more beautiful playing soccer than you’ve ever seen him, and it occurs to you it’s taken you sixteen years to find this out.

He’s so beautiful you can’t tear yourself away. Can’t run from the realization.

His eyes find yours in the crowds of people, elated with his brows raised. You can practically hear him where he stands, lips curled around the words. Did you see that? Did you see the goal I made?

You break the neutrality of your face and grin wide, uncharacteristic as you chant his name. “Go, Meguru!”

Bachira laughs again as the game goes on. Your shining star, your ego-centric sun. Your heart is beating loud enough to crush your ribs.

What an incredible view.

(Namikaze highschool wins that round of their inter-high bracket. The team goes to celebrate. They never invite Bachira.

Today, though, Bachira has you. After the game, Bachira wraps you in a hug so tight it could break you. You wonder when he got so strong. His scent, overwhelming and sweet, mixes with the scent of sweat and deodorant. You like it. You hug like that for a while, suddenly aware of your lack of proximity.

A comment Sasaki-san made about you two years ago pops back into your head but you still don’t think to let him go.

After he showers and changes back into his usual attire, you and Bachira walk to the 7/11 around the corner of his house.

You sit on the curb, legs out stretched. The sun is in full bloom, sky painted an pastel orange melting into pinks and blues. You hand Bachira his soda water from your bag, and split the melon flavored popsicle you bought in two halves.

You give him the bigger half. Unusually, it’s very quiet between you two.

“I’m going to become the best striker in the world,” He says. A repeat of a dream you’ve heard before, but said with amazing conviction. You look at him for a long time. Wet hair and brown eyes. You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear to look at him better then smile.

“I know you are,”

His grin brightens. “Right! Right, so when that happens,” His voice drops, feather soft. “When it happens, make sure you’re watching me. Don’t look away or you’ll miss it. ‘Kay? You gotta promise.”

He holds out his pinky for you. Were his hands always so calloused? Were they always so big, you wonder. You look at Bachira and suddenly he seems so much older. You nod your head.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Meguru.” )

[ SEVENTEEN ]

“Come over,” Bachira demands on the other side of the line. His voice is nearly a screech. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so excited in your entire life and that is saying a whole lot. “Come over, now. Like right now! You have too, you absolutely must,”

You pull your bag up on your shoulders as you pull the phone away from your ears. “Jeez, jeez - alright. I just got back from my supplementary lessons, so give me a second.”

“Are you on the street in front of my house?”

“Huh? Yeah, I am.”

The phone line cuts off, going completely silent as you stare at your phone in a mix of confusion and disbelief. Your fingers hover over the call back icon for a second before a tremendously loud shout and even louder footsteps sound in your ears.

You’re too surprised to laugh as Bachira comes barreling towards you in minutes flat. You steel yourself preparing to catch him if he lands face-first, but he manages to pull back in record speed skidding to a halt. You blink at him rapidly. He feels like an illusion.

“You ran here,”

“Yes. I did. Because,” He grabs both of your hands and starts to tug you into some kind of spinning dance in the middle of the sidewalk. “I. Have. News!”

“News? What about?”

His eyes widen and shine brilliantly. “Bluelock!”

The act of disappearing requires a lot more work than you could’ve imagined.

You’re being dramatic. Bachira isn’t disappearing. Not forever, at least. He’s just going away for a while, abruptly doing the thing that he would’ve done regardless because it’s not like he can become the best striker in the world in Japan alone. It’s something that was bound to happen eventually.

And, it’s not like you didn’t get any warning. The letter came months beforehand. Bachira was set to leave towards the end of November, which meant he about a month to prepare. Which means you’ve had about a month to be with him.

It’s not a big deal. You have other friends. Other people. It’s good that Bachira is going to be in a place that he can play the soccer he’s always dreamed. Even as his best friend, there’s some things you can’t do for him. It’s the happiest you’ve ever seen him, which is saying more than you ever could.

Rationally, you know there’s nothing to worry about. Emotionally, you’ve found out that you rely on Bachira more than you thought. Even the thought of him leaving temporarily is making your heart wrench. You’ve asked him a million questions.

It’s not like you to be so anxious about anything. You ere on the side of calm. But it’s Bachira. Your Meguru, so you can’t help but worry.

Bachira, dense as he is about other people, sympathizes with your concerns without asking and doesn’t get mad when you answer. It’s easy for you to forget that he understands you in his own way.

Bachira depends on you because he cares about you and you take care of Bachira because you are about him. It fulfills a mutual sense of purpose.

This is a normal part of growing up. You’ve been repeating it to yourself constantly. It’s not like you won’t see him ever again. You’ll see him afterwards, at least for a little while. You won’t be able to call or text him while he’s in the facility but that’s not forever. And even while he’s in there, he wants to hear about your boring life. So he says, anyways.

Rationally, you know it’s fine. Emotionally, you’re growing a keen sense of awareness about this being the end of your so-called youth. It’s not you’re adults, but you’re not kids either. You’re going to be eighteen next year. You have to think about entrance exams. You have to think about life and where Bachira will go without you.

Time is passing by you whenever you hesitate. Eventually, it’ll catch up to you and Bachira will be somewhere so far out of your reach. There’s no one you can think of more perfect for center stage. No one’s soccer will every shine as brilliantly as Bachira��s.

But it’s lonely. In it’s own right. To think about how far he’ll go. He’ll dribble himself to the ends of the Earth eventually.

At least for another week though, he’s within your reach. You have so many pictures together in your room per his request over the last few years, but looking at him now you kind of wish you had more.

“Aren’t you wanting to practice?”

“Ehh?” He frowns. “I can practice later. But I can’t be in your room all the time you know. I want to burn it into my brain. I thought we should do something special to commemorate but I couldn’t figure anything out.”

You hum. A thought strikes you. It’s incredibly out of character, but maybe that’s why it does. “We could drink together.”

Bachira laughs at first, definitely assuming it was a joke. When he realizes you’re dead serious though, he gasps, scandalized. Your lips quirk up at the corners.

“Who are you? An impostor? A shadow clone?” Bachira grabs your shoulders and shakes you lightly. “What did you do with my uptight best friend?!”

You laugh helplessly. “Don’t act like that. I just know where my parents keep bottles of shochu cold in the basement and thought maybe. I’ve never touched it before. It’s the weekend right? So if we get too drunk, you can sleep here.”

Bachira dramatically places a hand over his mouth in shock. “Have you really been replaced by alien clones…I can’t believe my ears.”

You shake your head. “Do you want to drink together or not?”

“Ehhhh?? Of course I do!” Bachira says, absolutely enthused at the idea. “We should get so drunk together.”

You consider it. “My parents are visiting relatives. I guess I can text and see if nii-san is coming home.”

“Are you saying it’s okay to get drunk if he isn’t planning on coming?”

You nod. “He’d probably be easy on me but I don’t want him to lecture you,”

Bachira squishes his face to yours, rubbing his cheek on yours with unabashed affection. You try not to laugh. You can feel him so close, smell him so close it makes you a little dizzy. Bachira doesn’t let out his scent more than necessary, but he is now just barely - scent glands brushing against your skin.

He smells sweet, but in a strange way. It was comforting and familiar. A little unusual for an omega given how strong it was but it’s not like Bachira is very usual in general.

It’s a little intimate for friends, but it’s Bachira and who knows when you’d see him next. You let him do as he pleases.

“Hurry and text your brother,” Bachira huffs, then brightens back up again. “Then lets drink! Yay!”

You bring the bottles of shochu back up to your bedroom as a pre-caution. Nii-san is is a couple hours away for a work trip, but you can’t get over the lingering paranoia of him appearing back home and trying to fight Bachira as a result so you figure it’s probably better to drink in your room.

You bring two glasses up with you along with juice and soda water, unsure about the taste. Bachira likes soda water as is so maybe he can use it as a chaser.

You sit across from each other at the small table close to the floor in the middle of your room. It took a while to get the bottles open.

You’ve smelled it before but it’s a little weird having it available to drink.

“I can’t believe you’re drinking with me. Underage. You, of all people.”

You pour a little shochu into each of your cups with a roll of your eyes. You’ll save the mix-ins for later, but you’re interested in tasting it on its own. You’re sure your parents have other stuff too, sake, beer and wine but you don’t know where they keep it. You read the labels of the bottle before drinking it.

You brush past what Bachira has said. “Fourty-three percent seems like a lot.”

“That’s basically half right? Doesn’t that mean this is gonna make us super drunk? Ohh, think I’m gonna throw up in your room? I haven’t done that since we were ten!”

“Please don’t throw up in my room.” You say, shaking your head. “I don’t know actually. It seems like a lot. Guess we’ll just have to drink and see.”

You shrug. You pick up your glass, signaling Bachira to do the same. He lets out a loud kanpai as you do, making you laugh a little as you bring the glass up to your lips. The scent itself sort of burns, you can’t imagine what drinking it is gonna be like.

You watch aghast as Bachira knocks the entire glass back and nearly hacks up his lungs coughing. His eyes are wet when he recovers with a fit of laughter that he can’t seem to get control of.

“Ahhh, it burns! It burns so much and it tastes weird. But it was easier to drink at once.” He says dramatically laughing, nearly retching in the process.

You stare at him in disbelief before taking a sip of your own drink refusing to partake in the same foolishness. He’s right that it burns. You always heard that but feeling the acidity in your mouth is different. It feels like all the moisture from your mouth is going along with it. You try it a few more times in short sips.

Are you some sort of masochist?

“I kind of…” You blink. Your eyes water as you look up at Bachira. “I kind of like it…?”

Bachira takes the bottle into his own hands that time and pours more of it straight into your glass and less into his. You’re sitting but you feel woozy. He pours soda and juice along his own before picking it up again, smiling with a friendly cheers.

Hours pass.

You and Bachira drink two entire bottles and talk to each other about nothing in particular. Mostly, it’s Bachira telling you how excited he is to go to Bluelock and you listening. You like listening to him. You love his voice.

You’re not sure when exactly the distance between you had disappeared entirely. You’re used to Bachira. To his body heat, to his presence, to his weight. You know how to carry him. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the drawn out feeling of loneliness making you feel self-conscious.

You don’t know what it is exactly. But there’s something about him at this proximity you’re having a hard time with. Wrapped up together, tangled on your bedroom floor while you both reek of liquor. He smells like burnt honey and he’s… handsome. More than he is pretty, you think. Still pretty though too.

He’s so unusual in every way. Your love for him sort of simmers underneath you in a pleasant but difficult way. You blink. Your eyes are bleary. He talks so much, but it’s the first time you really think about kissing him. The first time you wonder about how it feels.

You’re staring. Bachira pauses halfway as you’re tucked against him and stares back, mouth curled into familiar chesire grin. He drops his voice down to a whisper.

“What?” He says. He’s being teasing. He does that occasionally.

“Nothing,” You say and want to shut your eyes. “Keep talking. ‘s fine.”

“It’s not nothing,” He whines petulantly. “You’re not listeninggggg,”

“Sorry.”

He hugs you, an arm slipping under you and squeezing you. Was he always so strong? You figured his legs might be but there’s muscle in his arms too. “I’m not actually mad, dummy.”

“I was sorry, though.” A beat of silence. A heartbeat. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Really?”

You look at him incredulous. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“You’re hard to read sometimes! Even for me.”

You decide not to apologize again. Bachira would complain. You desperately want to tell him you love him. They’re the only words on you mind. But even this wasted, you can’t bring yourself to do something that pointless.

“You’re the most important person in my entire life,” You opt for instead. “And I hope you find someone who can play the kind of soccer that’s fun for you.”

Another minute of silence passes before you hear the familiar huff of Bachira crying. He cries often but he hasn’t done it in front of you for quite some time. He tucks himself against your neck and shoulder, shifting to press against your scent glands.

“I was doing a good job not trying before this,” He mutters. You rub his back soothingly, smiling a bit. “Gosh…don’t be so sappy like that randomly. It’s bad for my heart!”

Your own throat feels thick but you keep it down. Manage to swallow the tears away. You want to tell him so badly it’s making it hard to breathe.

Bachira looks up after a while. You do him the courtesy of wiping his tears away with your thumb, brushing them away from his face.

You don’t realize how close your faces have gotten until you nearly brush against his nose.

You think the alcohol is making you hallucinate when you feel a kiss.

Your eyes are still open for it. It’s not clumsy but it’s not smooth either. You blink. And you feel it again, and it lingers a little longer until you close your eyes and kiss back.

You kiss him so hard it feels like you forget how to breathe.

You don’t talk about it.

When Bachira wakes up the next day thoroughly hung-over and much in the same condition, treating you exactly the same - you assume he’s forgotten about it unlike you. You try not to let it weigh on you by writing it off as one of Bachira’s many quirks. Maybe you’ve gotten practice at repressing your emotions better than you thought since it works perfectly.

The week passes by easily. At the end of it, you see Bachira off along with his mom and the rest of your family who insisted on waving him off. The thought of not knowing the next time you’ll see him is painful but you manage it with the feeling you’ll see him eventually.

Though you don’t know how long it’ll be.

The next time you see Bachira’s face is on T.V.

It’s the first time you’ve ever sat in your living room to watch a game of soccer. You had wanted to attend, but tickets had only been alloted for family. You settled on watching at home, though Bachira’s mom had promised she would relay any messages she could from Bachira to you through text and otherwise.

You’ve never been into soccer. Despite your many years spent along side it for one reason or another, the sport itself has rarely ever been of any interest. You’re sure this is partly to blame on the fact you are hilariously unathletic albeit perfectly healthy.

When the U-2o match gets announced and you hear Bluelock will be playing, your ears perk up like a dog. You’re glad Bachira isn’t around to see how you announce to your entire house and tell them the T.V. and living room will be totally occupied during the duration of the match. You invite Miki-chan who pretends to want to refuse but comes over to watch anyway. Your nii-san joins you, which isn’t a surprise since he liked soccer to begin with.

You know whats happening well enough since you’ve had it explained to you hundreds of times.

You see several people on the screen during the match. Bachira’s team mates. Team mates he gets along with. There’s another player named Isagi on the field and him and Bachira have such tangible chemistry you feel a little jealous watching them.

In the short few months Bachira has been away at Bluelock, you can see how he’s changed. How much his soccer has transformed and improved in so little time.

Most of all, you can tell that Bachira is having the best time of his entire life. You can deal with the mild envy if only he gets to be that happy forever.

The U-20 games end in a victory for the Bluelock team and several interesting characters appearing. That guy, Isagi, announces to the world that he’s going to be the one to lead the team to victory. You think to yourself that you understand exactly why Bachira likes him.

The next time you see Bachira in person is not long after that. Apparently as a reward for their win, they’d been granted two weeks of free time.

It was only a few months, but it’s easy to tell how much Bachira has changed. It was all over him. He carried himself with more confidence, more electricity, more buzz.

He was still himself while being completely unrecognizable at the same time.

You were happy Bachira was happy, elated to hear all about his life and new friends. You couldn’t keep track of all of it, but you’ve been spending the last few days attached at the hip now that he was back in your hometown.

He’d had another day to visit friends already out in Shibuya that you couldn’t attend. Not that you really wanted too. You were happy he extended the invite but being around that many athletes and no doubt many alphas sounded like a nightmare.

You figured he would have another day or two like that as is, so when he texts you again that he’ll be meeting with some Bluelock friends, you’re content to let him go and not tag along despite yourself. As much some whiny part of you wanted to monopolize him completely (an omega part of you, you can admit) you feel it’s more important for Bachira to nurture his newer relationships on his own.

And again, being around that many alpha athlete teenage boys is mildly nightmarish to you in particular.

So you invited Sasaki to the mall to talk about this and that to keep your time occupied. She’d started dating some guy at school and you have yet to know the details.

You weren’t expecting to run into Bachira with his friends at the same mall.

You catch Bachira’s eye from across the way in the middle of the mall, along with a group of boys you know to be his new team mates. You honestly think it’d be better to avoid them for now. Not that you’re not happy to see Bachira, but there’s no way this won’t be incredibly awkward for you.

Sasaki nudges you though, not caring in the slightest at your visible distress. “Isn’t that Bachira-kun?”

“Yes,” You hiss, trying not to be obvious. “Let’s go the other way.”

“Huh? Why?”

“Because—“

You turn around to leave but don’t really get a chance as you hear a voice shout your name.

You flinch as you turn around. Sasaki gives you an amused look that you elbow her for immediately, feeling yourself jolt. After she makes fun of you, she holds your hand with an affirming squeeze and comforts you in a way only betas can - a soft citrus scent washing over you. You squeeze her hand back sighing, thankful as the group of boys stalk over to you.

Bachira runs more than he walks, skidding to a halt in front of you. “Ehhh? What are you doing here?”

“Came to gossip and walk around with Sasaki-chan,” You say with a shrug, pointedly ignoring the three pairs of eyes on you as you talk. “And buy books.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t come,” Bachira pouts at you, giving you a pointed look. You smile lightly.

“I didn’t say that,” You reply softly. “I didn’t want to intrude, that’s all.”

“You’re not intruding! Even if you were, I wouldn’t really care.”

“But you should,” You insist, shaking your head. You turn to his friends, getting a better look at them. Two alphas and one beta if your nose is right. You look at them apologetically. “Sorry about interrupting your outing.”

The one of them with pink hair and the prettiest features you’ve ever seen talks first. You’re sure people mistake him for an omega, but his scent is too alpha like for that to be the case. It’s strong enough and distinct enough for you to identify from this distance. “Not at all. I’m Chigiri. This is Nagi,” He says, introducing the other alpha next to him. “And I figure you already know of Isagi,”

You smile a little at that. “Ah, yeah. I do, actually.” You glance at Isagi. He’s a beta in the way he feels like the pinnacle of peace and safety off the field. It’s a little funny how different he seems. They all seem, really.

“Stop getting so buddy-buddy with them,” Bachira bemoans. You frown at him.

“Sorry about him,” You introduce your name first, then Sasaki. “We’re all childhood friends. It’s nice to meet all of you. Sorry to disturb your day off.”

“You’re not disturbing us,” Isagi says serenely. You think he seems a touch smug but can’t tell if you’re imagining it.

“You’re welcome to hang out,” Chigiri says next. He and Isagi share an unreadable but obviously conspiratorial look. Your eyes widen at the offer, shaking your head with your hands up.

“Ah. No, we don’t want to intrude seriously.”

“Why are you deciding for me?” Sasaki cuts in, making you shoot her a very sharp glare. “Shouldn’t you at least ask?”

“You’re not intruding,” Chigiri assures, an incredibly disarming smile on his face. “We’d be bound to see each other again if we’re both here anyways. May as well, right?”

You feel yourself sink, glancing at a very Bachira and thinking of the complaints you’re going to receive as soon as the two of you are alone. Your shoulders slump as you reluctantly smile, lips pressed into a flat line.

‘That’s true. If you’re sure you don’t mind, then alright.

For alphas, you think Bachira’s friends are pretty nice.

Nagi barely speaks, but he’s weirdly been engaged in conversation for the entire duration of you knowing him. He’s got the imposing looks and vibe of an alpha but precisely none of the aggression - at least from where you’re standing. He’s been considerate of you in his own way, especially after Bachira had announced the general discomfort you had felt towards alphas over all.

Chigiri is similarly nice. You can tell he grew up around omegas and are not surprised at all when he informs you he has omega sisters in his house. He’s extremely friendly for an alpha, and you’re sure another omega would be foaming at the mouth at how polite he is.

Of his friends though, you still take preference to Isagi. He is a beta through and through. Adaptable, friendly, easy going while having a sort of snark you find incredibly entertaining. Him and Bachira get along like a house on fire, but not in way that’s entire negative. You do feel a little envious seeing how close they’ve gotten in such a short period of time, but you’re mostly happy for him. Their bond is obviously special.

The rest of your group left a few moments ago, leaving you and Isagi to a much bedgrudging Bachira. You’d gotten food from the food court but it wouldn’t require so many people to go wait so you and Isagi have been securing a spot. You aren’t sure how to be alone with him, never been all that good with strangers.

Isagi is good at making conversation though, so you haven’t had to do much leg work.

You end up at the topic of Bluelock and Isagi practically beams at the chance to talk about it. It’s kind of cute in it’s own right. You know some stuff about it, but the logistics have been lost on you. Bachira tends to talk about these things more with onomatopoeias than with words.

You fiddle with something on the end of your bag as you engage in conversation.

“How does the facility manage like… having omegas and stuff in there?” You wonder. You voiced the concern to Bachira before leaving too but he had assured you it’d be fine. You kind of feel nosy asking.

Isagi shoots you a confused look. “Hm? Bluelock doesn’t have any omegas. It sucks but they considered it too high risk so only betas and alphas were admitted.”

Your turn to look confused. “Sorry? But Bachira is enrolled in it no…?”

Isagi stares at you. “Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “Bachira is an alpha, though? Like, a pretty strong one too. It’s hard to tell from his scent from what I hear but he’s prescribed the really high dose medications that the other alphas take. Part of the rut management and everything.”

You blink.

“…That’s…” And then you look up, completely unsure of what to say. “..Are you sure? Like… really sure?”

Isagi looks at you sympathetically. His voice is soft and comforting. “Yeah. I’m sure. Sorry,”

You shake your head. “No it’s,” You feel your eyes start to well up, chest feeling especially tight. “It’s okay. It’s not like you did anything wrong.”

“You’re a nice girl, huh?” Isagi says, voice tender and easily sensing your sudden distress. It makes your lip wobble. You want to cry into a strangers arms even though you absolutely can’t. “I’ll scold him for you.”

You give him a thankful look. “I’m gonna uh,” You swallow. “Go to the bathroom. When Sasaki comes back tell her to text me. And Bachira, uhm. I guess just tell him I went home.”

Isagi smiles. “Sure.”

You thank him again picking up your few things hastily and bolting in the opposite direction.

You don’t really know what you’re supposed to do or how you’re so suppose to receive the information. It’s not a sense of betrayal you feel welling up inside of you, but something closer to a sudden deep remorse and regret. And so much shock you can barely make sense of anything. You feel the sorry in your bones, and you feel the paved memories of your entire lifetime begging to shake under your feet.

Bachira is still Bachira.

But he’s an alpha. An alpha who likes other alphas, in the same way you’re an omega who likes other omegas. He’s like you. You shared this your entire life, but you never knew not once. You didn’t even have any idea.

What kind of friend does that make you? What kind of friend have you been to him all this time? Was it bad enough that he couldn’t share it? When you’ve depended on him so much?

You don’t know how you end up in a bathroom. It’s in such a far away part of the mall. You feel out of body, moving on autopilot as you shuffle into the empty stall and sit on the toliet with your bag and your things.

You’re reminded of your first heat on the train back from middle school. An old memory but not old enough you easily forget. Hesitance turned to frustration and disgust towards alphas. You’d avoided after that for years and still do now. Was it then?

Despondent, you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. The echo of stalls, the noise of people loudly outside, the forceful beat of your heart. A reminder that you’re really living through this realization so late. It’s weird. It hurts so much you can barely think through your thoughts and come upon any answers on how to go on.

It’s not hard to understand why. Bachira is selfish but he’s also loyal. You’re sure that sometime ago, to protect the vulnerable version of you who was already so distrusting of alphas, Bachira had kept it from you as to break your perception any further. You can’t blame him for that, especially when that distrust towards alphas yet to dissolve completely. Of course he wouldn’t be comfortable telling you.

You can’t bring yourself to hate him over it and never would. You’d spend the rest of your life trying to unglue the fused parts of yourself with him, the memories and you’d never see the end of it if you attempted.

What hurts you is that he never told you. Not ever. Not even when you voiced your worries about his heats in Bluelock. Not even as you drank together. Not even when he kissed you.

Was he never going to tell you?

Did he never trust you enough to tell you?

That hurts most. You only have yourself to blame. The thought makes your heart wrench. Your eyes water as you focus in on the ground and try to breathe.

The door of the bathroom itself opens and shuts all of a sudden, familiar footfall making hundreds of alarm bells go off at once. You already know it’s Bachira, but for the first time you don’t know what you’re meant to say to him. The feeling is so complex you can barely put it in words for yourself. How were you meant to face him?

“Meguru,”

You can hear him whimper on the other side of the stall door, fists hitting it in a dull thud.

“I’m sorry,” He’s crying. You want to open the door and comfort him so badly but shame stops you. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry - it’s all my fault. Don’t hate me, please don’t hate me.”

You hate hearing him cry. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to keep your voice steady. “I don’t hate you at all.”

“You’re lying. You won’t even open the door to look at me.”

“I just can’t,” You say, not really know how else to explain it. “But nothing could make me hate you.”

“But you hate alphas, don’t you? You’re uncomfortable with me now. We can’t be close anymore, right?”

You don’t say anything to that. You want to deny it. You want to tell him nothing could make you want to stop being his friend.

But then, you remember that Bachira is destined for unimaginable greatness. Bright like the sun and even more interesting, more talented, more cool than you could ever be. He’s an alpha to boot. You think of the future of your life and how you’ve always pictured it to be quiet and functional, because that’s who you’ve always been. Bachira is—was a star crash landing in your life, anyhow. You think of all of that, along with everything else - and all the ways you’ve betrayed him unintentionally.

You’ve used up all of your luck. Inevitably. Eventually, it was always going to end with a gradually forming distance. You knew that before he left just like you know it now. And nows as good a time as any to put it to rest.

“Meguru,” He’s your first friend. You’re sure that’s why he’s so shaken up. Distance would be better. “You have to focus on becoming the best in the world, right? I’ll uh,” You try to breathe. “I’ll be watching from a distance no matter what,”

“Please don’t leave me,” He whimpers. You wince.

“It’s not like that. There’s a lot of people who are beside you now.” You say warily, trying to comfort him. If you were a more selfish person, you would want to be friends. You love Bachira. You’ve loved him your entire life. You probably always will. But you think if he’s had to keep this secret from you so long - you don’t deserve any of that. “It’s fine. You’ll be fine,”

Without me. You’ll be fine without me. You want to tell him that, but can’t bring yourself to say it.

You won’t be, you don’t think. Not for a while. But this is the least you can do for your relationship. For your best friend who you haven’t paid enough attention too.

“I’ll stay with you until you stop crying,” You offer. “And when your eyes aren’t red, we can both just go home. Okay?”

Bachira sniffles on the other side of the door and doesn’t reply.

[ EIGHTEEN ]

On your eighteenth birthday, Bachira’s mom calls you at midnight.

Yu-san is like a third parent to you, so you pick regardless for the reason she calls. She sounds relieved when you answer despite the sleep in your voice. You’re up late studying for your driving license exam which you’ll finally be eligible to take starting now.

“Ah. Hello?”

“Hey, kid. Thanks for picking my call,” She sounds like she’s doing something. It’s a Sunday so she’s probably painting. “Don’t sound too confused. I just called to wish you happy birthday. Meguru always called you at midnight, didn’t he?”

You look down at the papers on your desk, twirling pen in fingers. “Yeah, he did.”

“You two still aren’t talking, right? But knowing Meguru, he’ll feel sad later on when he realizes he didn’t wish you because he was upset,” She hums, nonplussed. You smile a little. Yu-san is just like that, you think. Even after being aware of you and Bachira’s fights, the way she’s treated you hasn’t changed. “So I thought I’d do in his place.”

“It’s alright, Yu-san. But thank you,”

“Of course,” She says. You hear the faucet running and the familiar clicking of paint brushes on the other side of the line. “Come over when you have some time. I brought ingredients for your favorite. We can go pick up a cake together, too. I bet you’re too busy studying and forgot to make plans, right?”

You flush. “…I did.”

She laughs good-naturedly. “Right? I thought so. I know it’s just you in the house, but feel free to invite Sasaki and Miki-chan, alright? And don’t stay up too late studying.”

You feel tears well up in the corners of your eyes. “Thank you for always taking care of me, Yu-obasan,”

“Oh, don’t be silly. That’s a given right?”

“Right,” You sniffle. “But still, thanks.”

“Of course. Oh! And, happy birthday.”

#bachira x reader #bluelock x reader #bachira smut #bluelock smut #writing tag #fics for gaza #bllk x reader #bachira meguru x reader #omegaverse cw

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karmic-vibes · 2 years ago

Text

If I Can Dream

24 - While I Can Think, Talk, Stand, Walk

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr / lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: general teenage angst, mentions of not eating (not related to any EDs !!), blood

Year: 2004

“Okay, just a few more steps,” Eddie said.

His hands were over Bobby’s eyes as he guided her out of the house, down the driveway. The teenager was giggling to herself, stumbling over her own feet as her father tried leading the way. Eddie peered around the girl, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, trying his best to focus.

“Nearly.” They took a few more steps as Eddie sighed in relief. “Okay, ready?”

“Yes!”

“Alright… one, two, three!” He pulled his hands away and ran to meet Steve.

“Oh my god…”

“Tada!”

The two were standing next to a brand new, navy blue BMW Beamer, arms raised with cheer. There was a bright red bow on the hood of the car—the perfect finishing touch to the teenager’s birthday gift.

“I… oh my god… thank you guys!”

She ran into their arms, crying tears of joy. Bobby had recently gotten her license and was constantly asking to borrow Eddie’s decked out Dodge Charger, over Steve’s practical Mercedes sedan. So, the couple compromised and got her a Beamer—best of both worlds.

“Now, there’s a couple rules,” Steve started. “First–”

“When can I take her for a spin?” Bobby cut him off.

“After we tell you the rules and responsibilities, okay?”

“Fine… lay them on me.”

“Okay,” Steve sighed, hands resting on his hips. “First, having a car is a big responsibility. You need to make sure all its preventative maintenance is done, like oil changes, tire rotations–”

“Yeah, okay, what else?” Bobby was practically buzzing from excitement.

“There’s going to be a curfew. You can leave as early as you need for work or school, but I expect to see you home, in the driveway, walking through that front door no later than ten, got it?”

“But dad,” she whined. “All my friends get to stay out until eleven, sometimes even later!”

“And you’ll survive coming home an hour earlier.”

“Fine,” she pouted. “What else?”

“You’re responsible for putting gas in it, got it? Pops and I will handle insurance and payments and everything, but gas is up to you. We want you saving your hard earned money, but we still want you to be responsible for something this big. Understood?”

“Yes, dad. Keys, please?”

“Here,” he smiled, handing them over.

“Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She hugged them, eagerly jumping up and down.

“Okay, okay,” Eddie giggled, “just be safe, alright?”

“I will, papa. I love you guys so much!”

Bobby released herself from the hug and ran to the driver’s seat. Steve took the bow off the car, tucking it under his arm, as he waved his daughter off.

“She didn’t grab her license, did she?” Steve asked.

“Nope.”

“Her phone is probably inside too, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Whole purse?”

“Mhmm.”

“How long until you think she figures it out?”

“I give her ten minutes.”

A few days passed and Bobby had barely been home—she was taking her car out at any chance she had. The boys would be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy having a little helper go to the store, or put gas in their cars, or even have to drive her around anymore. However, it broke their heart to see their little girl so grown up.

Ever since Bobby got her car, the boys noticed she was becoming more secretive. Whenever she went out, she never explicitly said what she was doing or who she was going out with. Steve trusted that she knew was she was doing, but Eddie was constantly panicked. He was her age once—terribly sneaky and always getting into trouble (at least before dating Steve).

One day, Bobby came home right before dinner was on the table. She rushed through the corridor, dumping her bag in the hall, and trying to run up the stairs. However, her efforts were stopped by Eddie catching the hood of her sweatshirt.

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” he asked.

“Upstairs,” she mumbled.

“Dinners gonna be ready in a few minutes.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Bobby Judas, why are you facing away from me?”

“It’s nothing, pops! Jesus Christ, leave me alone!”

“What’s going on?” Steve asked. “Bobbs, come on, dinners nearly ready.”

“I’m not hungry!” She yelled, finally facing her parents.

Their eyes widened when they finally saw their little girl—septum pierced along with bilateral nostrils. Eddie stammered as he tried to find the right words, but Steve took them right out of his mouth.

“What did you do?” Steve uttered.

“Went to the piercer…”

“How… how did you get… who signed off on parental consent?”

“I… um…”

“Um?” Eddie fumed.

“I have a fake…”

“Jesus Christ,” he sighed. “You could’ve just asked us! Honey, you know us, we would’ve said yes. B-But going behind our backs? Bug, it’s a slap in the face.”

“I’m sorry… I didn’t think you guys would approve…”

“How did you expect to hid three piercings?”

“I didn’t think that far ahead.”

“Do you know how to properly take care of everything?” Steve sighed.

“Sorta…”

“Christ, okay, did the piercer tell you? Give you instructions or anything?”

“No, but Judah–”

“Ugh,” Eddie scoffed.

“What, papa? What do you have against my boyfriend?”

“Where do I start,” he seethed.

“Eddie,” Steve warned.

“He has made you rebellious and has you going behind our backs! We didn’t raise you to be like this!”

“Well, turns out, you did!”

And just like that, Steve was teleported nearly twenty years into the past. Back to one of the many arguments he had with his parents—specifically, when he stood up on Eddie’s behalf. He was sick and tired of his parents misgendering Eddie—he figured it was time to finally stand up for himself and his [now] husband. Steve had dissociated, being stuck in a memory.

“I didn’t raise a fag,” John spat.

“Well, turns out, you did,” Steve grit his teeth. “I love him. He’s not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

It wasn’t until Bobby’s yelling pulled him back into reality.

“I love him! He’s fun and older and mature. He’s everything a girl could want,” she fawned.

“How much older,” Steve asked.

“What?”

“Bobby, how old is he?”

“Only nineteen.”

“Bobby!” the two yelled.

“I knew you’d react this way! Ugh, why can’t I just be happy!”

“While you live under our roof, you live by our rules. Are we clear?” Eddie scolded.

“You guys ruin all my fun. I hate you!” She cried, running up to her room.

Tears streamed down Eddie’s face as he hit the corridor wall just enough to make the paint chip. He wiped his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve and stormed back into the kitchen with Steve hot on his trail.

“We can’t yell at her like that,” Steve said. “It’ll only make everything worse.”

“No, I know,” Eddie sniffed. “I just… we didn’t raise her to shy away or hide from us. I-I thought we were doing a good job at forming that close bond where she could tell or ask us anything.”

“I guess not,” Steve sighed. “But think back to when you were her age… were you any better?”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Stevie… I don’t want her to be like me.”

“Smart, pretty, and successful?” he teased.

“Shut up,” Eddie mumbled. “I’m being serious. When I was sixteen, Christ, I was getting sketchy tattoos in peoples basements. I-I was out in the woods growing my own pot and selling it to people.”

“You were what?”

“Please, I sold much worse.”

“You what?”

“What?” Eddie shrugged.

“Eds, we’ve been married for how many fucking years and you’re just now telling me you used to be a drug dealer?”

“How did you think I made my money?” He raised a brow.

“Hell, I don’t know, maybe working like a normal person‽”

“Please, when have you ever known me to be normal?”

“Touché…”

“So what’re we gonna do about Bee?” Eddie sighed.

“Eds, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We just have to let her make her own choices and make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”

“I miss when she was little,” Eddie pouted. “God, we were best friends. She was a mini-me—a little sidekick!”

“To be fair, Eds, she’s still a mini-you. She’s just reached that rebellious stage,” Steve shrugged. “Let her ride it out. I’m sure it’ll all work out—it did with you, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but only because I started dating the hot jock, not some dude who already graduated.”

“Ed, you were supposed to already be graduated when we started dating. You’re reading too deep into this.”

“Yes, but I was nineteen and you were eighteen. A little different than sixteen and nineteen.”

“I’m not saying I’m happy about it, but us trying to stop it is going to do more harm than good.”

“I guess you’re right… do you wanna try getting her down here for dinner? Or at least bring a plate up to her?”

“I think it’d be better if you did it, Eds.”

“Why me?”

“The tensions been a lot higher between you two than me and her.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll go try and bring her down.”

Eddie ascended the stairs and made his way to his daughter’s room. He gently knocked a few times before testing to see if the knob would turn. When it did, he let himself in. Bobby was sitting on her bed, legs clung to her chest, journal balanced atop her knees—headphone cords dangling from her ears as music blared loud enough even for Eddie to hear.

“Bobbs?” Eddie started. She glanced up, rolled her eyes, and went back to journaling. “Bobby, honey, I’m sorry.” Eddie closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed. “Bee, please…”

“What do you want?” she huffed, ripping her headphones out.

“I wanted to apologize.”

“I don’t wanna hear it. Judah and I are happy.”

“No, I know, but forgive me for worrying. If you ever become a parent you’ll understand.”

“What’s the big deal? Huh? You’re older than dad!”

“Yes, honey, I know, but we were nineteen and eighteen when we started dating. We were both legal. I just worry that he’s gonna take advantage of you.”

“He’s not that stupid, and neither am I. He knows better—mainly because I think he knows you and dad would kill him,” she giggled.

“He better know,” Eddie weakly smiled. “We love you, bug, and we just want you to be happy and safe.”

“I’m a big girl, pops, you don’t need to baby me.”

“Bobby, you’ll always be my baby. Even when dad and I are old and gray, you’ll still be our baby.”

“What do you mean when?”

“Bobby Judas!” Eddie teased. “Ugh, fresh. You literally are a mini-me, Christ.”

“Oh my god, it’s almost like I came outta you.”

“You came out of me‽” Eddie jokingly gasped. “I thought I was a man!”

“Oh, shit, pops, I love you.” Bobby laughed to herself, nudging him with her foot.

“I love you too, bug. So, what’d ya say? Come downstairs for dinner?”

“I’m honestly not hungry, papa.”

“Then at least join us? Please?”

“I’ll be down in a few, okay?”

“Okay… love you.”

“I love you too.”

A few days passed, and while amends had been made, Bobby was still sneaking around, getting herself into trouble. One random evening, Steve and Eddie heard a bump in the night, jostling them awake.

“What was that?” Eddie groaned.

“Was that Bobby?”

“Probably.”

“Can you go check on her?”

“Whose night did we leave off on?”

“Eddie, that was like ten years ago. How the fuck am I supposed to remember?”

“Because you’re supposed to be the smart one here, Steven.”

“Go check on our spawn, for fuck’s sake.”

“Christ, fine.”

Eddie swung his legs out of bed and trudged down the hall. He quietly opened Bobby’s bedroom door and glanced in, not seeing his teenager anywhere, not even her bed (which did not look slept in).

“Piece of shit, stupid fucker.”

Eddie turned his head, hearing sobbing coming from the upstairs bathroom. He knocked on the door, not even waiting for an answer.

“Bee, is everything– Bobby!”

Tears pricked at Eddie’s eyes as he saw his daughter crying, blood pooling in her hands as it poured from her nose. He rushed in, panicking to help her in some way—any way.

“Bobby, wh-what happened? Did that piece of shit hit you?”

“No,” she cried. “We-We-We– god!” She sobbed hysterically.

“Just breathe, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Eddie cooed. He dampened a wash cloth as he cleaned her face.

“We broke up,” she sniffed.

“Why’re you bleeding?”

“Did you not hear me?”

“No, I did, pumpkin, and I’m sorry to hear that, but why are you bleeding?”

“I was taking my piercings out,” she frowned. “He was the one that liked them… I don’t want ‘em anymore.”

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sighed.

“What’s going on? I heard crying!” Steve panted, bursting through the threshold.

“Smooth, Harrington.”

“Shut it. Bobby, what’s wrong? You’re bleeding…”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

“Okay, watch the fucking attitude, Eds. Bobbs, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“Papa, don’t make me repeat it,” she cried.

“I’ll explain later, Steve, just go back to bed. I’ve got it handled.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Look at me, bug…”

Eddie gingerly lifted her chin as he dabbed away at the blood staining her sore nose. She winced in pain at every passing swipe, Eddie tutting his tongue in sorrow. He couldn’t stand seeing his daughter sad—never mind in pain.

“Bee?” Eddie whispered.

“Hmm?”

“Why didn’t you ask us for help? O-Or wait until the morning when we could take you to a piercer to get this stuff removed?”

“I dunno, I just panicked,” she shrugged. “You wouldn’t know—you’ve never been heart broken.”

“Says who?” Eddie asked.

“Please,” Bobby scoffed. “You and dad have been together for a million years.”

“Doesn’t mean I didn’t date before that.”

“Wait, you… you were in love before dad?”

“Mhmm, sure was.”

“What was his name?”

“It was actually a girl.”

“Oh… I never knew you ever dated any girls.”

“Girl… just the one.”

“Does dad know?”

“Mhmm. He was actually friends with her back in high school, long before we started dating.”

“Was she pretty?”

“Oh, gorgeous,” Eddie beamed.

“Why’d you break up?”

“Well, sweetheart, I realized I wasn’t into women in that way. I was confused when I was younger—trying different things, seeing what felt right. My junior year of high school, I rekindled with this beautiful girl who I was friends with back in middle school. I knew I wasn’t straight, but I didn’t know in what way. At the time, I thought I was a lesbian… I was getting so much gender envy from all the guys, I just thought I hated men. Turns out, I wanted to be them,” Eddie chuckled. “But, before she joined the cheer squad and became popular, we briefly dated, and yeah… the rest is history.”

“And you loved her?”

“I adored her, honey. I loved her as a person, and I honestly kick myself for not keeping in touch after the breakup.”

“Was it mutual?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “We realized we were different and not what we wanted. We were both heartbroken, sure, but we still loved each other.”

“That’s so… bittersweet…”

“Sure was,” Eddie whispered.

Eddie eased out the remainder of her fresh piercings, throwing them haphazardly in the trash. He finished cleaning up Bobby’s face and hands before running to get her a clean pair of pajamas. After she changed, she headed back to the bathroom to take off the rest of her makeup. Eddie took it upon himself to undo her ponytail and brush out her fried hair.

“Thanks, papa,” she sighed.

“Anytime, bug.”

“Papa?”

“Hmm?”

“Actually, never mind, it’s stupid.”

“No, what’s up?”

“How did you know you loved dad?”

“I just knew,” he beamed. “I can’t really explain it. I knew I loved him pretty early on, but I never said it until about six months in.”

“What made you finally say it?”

“Well…” Eddie’s cheeks burned red, thinking back to the night him and his husband confessed their love.

“Oh, fuck, Steve. Shit, I love you so fucking much,” Eddie babbled.

“I love you too, baby,” Steve huffed, trying to hold out for Eddie. “You feel so fucking good, god. So tight, so wet—all for me.”

“All for you,” Eddie whined. “God, please, Steve!”

“Pops?”

“Hmm?” Eddie’s eyes widened, pulling himself back into reality.

“What made you say it?”

“Just… how sweet and understanding he was when I came out.”

“What made you come out to him?”

“He was upset our relationship wasn’t progressing the way he had hoped. He started asking if there was a problem with him and he got all worked up. I couldn’t hide from him anymore so I showed him my bandages–”

“From top surgery?”

“No, no, that wasn’t until a year or so later. I mean, I used to use ace bandages to bind my chest down. But he took them off, cared for me, and has loved me unconditionally ever since.”

“If that never happened, would you have ever come out to him?”

“It’s hard to say, honestly. I was afraid of losing him.”

“But why would you want to be with someone who wouldn’t love you for you?”

“You never knew him in high school,” Eddie chuckled. “God, did you know, dad initially wanted upwards of six kids. Six, Bobby!”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she giggled.

“I know, but I still can’t get over it! Regardless… I loved him so much that, if I never came out, lord, I would’ve popped all six out for him. I would’ve been miserable, but if he was happy, that’s all I cared about.”

“That seems toxic…”

“It would be if he didn’t love me back or didn’t compromise. But alas, he did, and he just wants to see me happy too. Seeing me happy was just having you,” he smiled. “That’s called loving someone unconditionally… all their beauty and all their flaws.”

He continued brushing through her hair, grabbing the numerous products Steve bought for her, and properly pampered her hair. Bobby closed her eyes and sighed contently. She knew this is what love was supposed to be—someone to always be there for you, care for you, and accept you no matter what; all your beauty, and all your flaws.

“Papa?”

“Yes, bug?”

“You said you would’ve been miserable with multiple kids.”

“Mhmm.”

“Did you ever think you were gonna be miserable with me?”

“Oh, god, yes. Bobby, I was petrified when I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified that I wouldn’t love you, or that you wouldn’t love me. Thankfully, dad knocked some sense into me.”

“How so?”

“He said something along the lines of people who worry about not loving someone often already love them more than they know.”

“And?”

“Wouldn’t ya know it—I love you more than life itself,” Eddie beamed. “You’re a good kid, Bee. Dad and I are proud of you… we always will be…”

“Thanks, papa,” she whispered. “Sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass…”

“Eh, it’s alright. You’re a teenager—we’ve all had our moments. Okay…” Eddie whispered, tongue poked out in concentration as he tied Bobby’s hair into a braid. “And done! Get to bed, love bug. You have school in the morning.”

“Alright, pops. I love you.”

“I love you too—sleep well.”

Despite the boys’ best efforts, Bobby was still sneaking around. Steve and Eddie considered different forms of discipline, but they realized that would only make everything worse. Instead, they decided to try the opposite—play into it—let her know that they knew her every move.

“Bobbs! Dinner!” Steve called.

“Not hungry!”

“Bobby Judas, please come down and try to eat something!”

“I said I’m not hungry!”

“Bobby!” Eddie warned. “Get down here!”

“What’re you doing?” Steve whispered.

“Getting the spawn to eat.”

The boys heard the thumping of their child trudging down the stairs. She stood on the landing, arms crossed, hip jutted out against the banister. She raised a brow as she tapped her foot impatiently.

“What?” she snapped.

“Okay, cut the attitude, missy. Come sit down with us,” Eddie said.

“I told you, I’m not hungry.”

“That’s fine, just sit with us.”

“But I have to work on my campaign.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Steve asked.

“You heard me.”

“While I’m so proud of you, join your father and I for dinner. If you eat, I’ll help you out and we’ll make a one-shot that is so hard and so sadistic, not even I’ll be able to beat it.”

“Shit, fine.”

She hopped down the few remaining stairs and pulled a seat up at the dining table. She grabbed a plate and a glass of water and took her usual spot between her fathers. She started shoveling the meal down her throat, trying to clear the table as quick as she could.

“So, how was school?” Steve asked, trying to start up a conversation.

“Fine,” Bobby mumbled.

“How’s your nose?” Eddie added.

“Fine.”

“Bee–”

“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” She shoved the last remaining bits of food in her mouth before standing up. “Thanks for dinner. Bye.”

“Bobby–”

“Dad–”

“Sit, for fucks sake. We miss you, pumpkin. Talk to us.”

“Christ, fine.”

She slumped back down, crossing her arms in protest.

“So how’s school?” Steve asked again.

“It’s fine, seriously.”

“Meds working out okay?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You’re focusing okay?”

“Mhmm.”

“None of your friends are asking for your Adderall, right?”

“Some do.”

“You don’t… you don’t give it to them though, right?” Steve stuttered. “I love your father, but I don’t want you being like him.”

“Hey– eh, you’re right,” Eddie shrugged.

“No, I don’t give it to them.”

“You promise?”

“I swear, dad. I literally need it to function in school. I’m not about to just give it away or sell it. Plus, if I need money for something, I’ll just ask papa.”

“Okay… I believe you…” Steve sighed.

“So what’re you working on in your campaign?” Eddie asked with a mouth full of food.

“Christ, I thought you’d never ask!”

Bobby got lost in her story telling, speaking to her fathers more than she had in the past month. By the time she was done explaining her campaign, Steve was already cleaning up the mess from dinner. Eddie placed a kiss on Bobby’s head and joined his husband, helping him tidy up. Bobby peered in, smirking to herself as she quietly grabbed her car keys.

“I’m going to bed,” she called.

“Night, bug,” Eddie said. “We love you.”

“Love you too.”

She ran upstairs, locking her bedroom door behind her. She grabbed an array of pillows and clothes and stuffed them under her blanket to match the shape of her sleeping body. The young girl popped open her window and scaled down the front of her house like she had done many times before.

Bobby briefly fumbled with her keys, unlocking her car with the main key so her parents wouldn’t hear the alarm go off. She buckled herself in and started the engine, eager to drive off into the nothingness of Hawkins. As she tuned her radio to the desired station, she heard a voice echo from the backseat.

“Where are we going?”

“Ah!” She screamed.

“Do you think I’m stupid, Bobby?” Eddie asked.

“Sorry…” She whispered.

“Be home by twelve or I’m sending dad to come and get you.”

“But he’ll embarrass me!”

“Yeah, exactly.” Eddie got out of the car, leaning in through the window. “Just be safe, kiddo, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Please don’t hurt yourself or get into any trouble.”

“I know.”

“Dad and I love you and we hate that you’re becoming distant from us… I know we’re lame and everything but… but we miss you, Bee…”

“I’m sorry, papa. I love you guys too. It’s just, I’m not a little girl anymore. I wanna go out and have fun and do my own thing.”

“I understand,” he sighed. “All we ask is have dinner with us, alright?”

“Fine.”

“And don’t end up like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Bobbs, I was a sneaky, rebellious drug dealer who was held back three times. Go out and party and do whatever kids your age do. But for the love of god… don’t end up like me. Talk to us. Ask us for help. We’ll always be here for you… we want to be there for you…”

“I know… I’m sorry, papa…”

“It’s okay.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her as tight as he could through the window. “Just be safe. You call us if you need us. No questions asked.”

“Okay, pops,” she giggled.

“Bye, pumpkin.”

“Bye, papa. I’ll see you when I get home.”

“No later than midnight!”

“I know, I know.”

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