Chapter Text
Somedays were just better than others; today was a good day.
Myna sat in her tiny apartment drinking a jumbo cup of hot cocoa complete with marshmallows, whipped cream AND chocolate sprinkles. She nestled deep into an old and dated loveseat the likes of which couldn’t in anyway be considered stylish, but whose comfort factor alone kept it from finding its way to the recycling station.
Adorned in an old AOII letter shirt, flannel lounge pants and fuzzy (albeit mismatched) socks, the woman attempted to watch some made for cable holiday movie that she had seen well over a dozen times. However, she found herself unable to focus on it.
“Maybe…” she thought with an eyeroll “it's because every one of these movies have the same plot; big city girl falls in love with a small-town widowed inn keeper and learns the true value of Christmas."
That thought made her chuckle; mostly because of its accuracy. Yet her thoughts continued to wander.
"Maybe I'm just being nostalgic" she hypothesized, but whatever the case, she had been experiencing difficulty focusing all day and just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something she was forgetting. “Oh well, must not be that important”. She said aloud with a shrug. Try as she might to focus on the film her thoughts continued to roam.
When her eyes danced lightly over some old photos resting atop the television, she found herself once again strolling down memory lane, drawn to different times, exotic locales and valued friends. Her own memories frozen in time in ornate little frames.
A sudden realization of the date had Myna surmising that maybe this was what had her so mentally befuddled. With a quick check of the date on her phone, she realized that it was, in fact, not only that time of year, but it was the actual holiday itself.
Feeling a sense of relief that her internal calendar had been the culprit tickling and teasing her mind all day; she grabbed her phone and sent a quick text to her loved ones stateside, wishing them all a very Happy Thanksgiving.
Though it was just a regular Friday morning for her here in Japan, in America, today was something different. Today was a day that, if she were home, she would be serving a massive dinner - meals consisting of whole birds, hams and vegetables. There would also be an assortment of breads, gravies, a dish called “stuffing” and deserts! Oh! The deserts!!! The deserts prepared for this meal alone were a feast in and of themselves.
This meal would have been days in the making, and typically, the Alphan folk only contributed with their absence. Instead, they usually gathered around a screen somewhere – imbibing their favorite brew- chiding each other while boisterously rooting on their preferred sports team.
Screams of delight and moans of anguish would sporadically ring out, making the Omegas (left in the kitchen and dining areas to actually prepare the feast) amused and laughing at the absurdity and childishness of it all.
The division of labor never bothered Myna though. This was a brief time that all the Omegas got together free of their pups, of their partners, and of the protocol that society placed on those who shared her secondary gender. Here they could simply enjoy one another's company as they prepared their dishes, shared new recipes and the latest gossip with the only other people who understood them, other Omegas.
What Myna loved most though, was that every year, eventually, someone would express gratitude for whatever it was they were most thankful and then, as if on cue, when that person finished, another would take up the “torch of thankfulness” and do the same until everyone at the table would do so as well.
It was those precious moments where everyone in her life sat smiling, grateful for not only their own blessings, but also for one another's presence, forgetting about some televised game in another room, arguments amongst the young over seating arrangements and the hours of labor that had been put into the meal itself would all be forgotten. For a few minutes the whole world was at peace.
It was those moments wherein Myna always felt like she was truly home. Despite having already sent the text, She expected no reply as it was still in the middle of the night in America. So, she tried again to focus.
Still there was something … an itch she just couldn't seem to scratch. What was she forgetting?
When it finally began to annoy her, she mentally retraced her thoughts which brought her full circle to the framed snapshots. There was that one photo from her trip to Mardi Gras with her boyfriend and his friend - which made her laugh recalling the day she stood next to him as he married that "friend" years later.
Then the picture from the cruise she’d taken to Mexico where she lazed on pristine beaches and played in turquoise waters. Then another from her trip to Alaska where she saw the beauty of the glaciers and magnificence of the American wildlife.
None of the images had been professionally lighted, posed or photographed. In fact, most were actually just selfies snapped in the moment in an attempt to capture a feeling and save it as a memory forever.
To Myna, though, it was never about the photo's quality. She wasn't concerned with them being social media worthy or perfect, these were just for her; her own little reminders of the life that she had been given and allowed to live and like life; it was in the imperfections where the beauty usually was found.
One frame, however, sat slightly apart from the rest and it happened to be her particular favorite. In this frame, sat a selfie taken during her trip to Machu Picchu. Myna stood with the famous site in the background, hugging a much taller and more attractive woman, both smiling brightly, no makeup, dirty clothes and bits of grass still visible in their hair. This photo, in all its glory brought her back to the trip that her sister-in-law turned mother had taken her on just before she left for college.
Several times throughout the trip in which the two had spent weeks climbing the rugged terrain of Peru, the unpredictable and unseasonable weather had left their entire group huddled, sleeping rough and seeking refuge outside some small village somewhere. It was then that Myna truly saw the kindness of her fellow man as residents of whatever village the group happened to be occupying at the time often brought out to them dry blankets, clothes and food.
Looking back, Myna can still recall the warmth of their smiles which somehow managed to have made those times a little less miserable. They looked upon the vagabonds sympathetically, bestowed upon them gifts and food even when Myna knew they couldn't do so without forgoing themselves.
On the day they reached the site, just as the sun arose and the clouds broke, they made their final ascent. When the ancient city finally came into view, the women couldn’t do anything, but cling to one another and weep. Overwhelmed by emotion and fatigue, neither caring how they looked, determined to make this moment last; the older woman held out her cell phone and took the photo that sat staring at Myna today.
She was still smiling when she heard the familiar noise of the deadbolt being unlocked and the clinking of keys falling into the hallway dish. The sound broke her from her reminiscence, but didn’t bother her in slightest as she knew it could only be one person and that knowledge made her smile grow wide.
Sira was Myna’s first and her oldest friend in Japan. The pair had met as girls in Okinawa when Myna had lived there with her brother and sister-in-law; while Sira would stay with her grandparents who lived nearby while her parents worked. Myna spent almost every evening, every weekend and every school holiday with her Japanese friend and it was that friendship that had brought her back to Japan a years ago.
The honest, unbiased, judgment free relationship that the two share makes it the strongest longest friendship of her life. There was never any competition or judgment between the two. Never any shaming on either girl’s behalf despite their vastly different approaches to life either, not in all the years they had known each other. It was for that reason, Myna could and did, without hesitation, call Sira her best friend.
Still sitting snuggled deep and comfortable on their loveseat in mismatched yet comfortable clothing, with messy hair and nothing on her face but a smile (and unbeknownst to her a dried whipped cream mustache) Myna awaited her roommate. The sound she heard next shook her to her very core. This sound was that of a man.
“Oh shit” she thought.
Suddenly, she remembered EXACTLY why she had checked the date on her phone in the first place. This afternoon Sira’s new man was coming over for the first time. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” she thought as she tried to discretely yet quickly gather her blanket, tabloid magazines and now empty mug.
Before she could disappear, though, the pair stood before her. Sira, with her eyes wide, bit her bottom lip and tried her level best not to burst into laughter at the horror she now saw so clearly plastered on her friend’s face. Myna would have rather walked through fire than be seen like this by anyone other than her sister and Sira... and Sira knew that which made it all the more hilarious.
The Beta stood beside yet somewhat behind the man who was now staring directly and most uncomfortably at Myna in their shared living room. The room wasn’t large by any means, hell for that matter the entire apartment wasn’t much larger than that of a college dorm suite back in the US, but with the man staring so intently at her, she was sure that its square footage was decreasing exponentially with every second that passed.
The man, who Myna had been assured was handsome, looked instead like some rock band roadie reject in his all black jumpsuit, boots and hair. In fact, the only thing not black on the man was some ragged dirty scarf that sat slumped around his neck. She wondered about its length which she estimated to be ridiculously long based upon the way it mounded about the man’s head and shoulders.
He was not at all what she had been expecting from her beautiful and somewhat promiscuous friend. But having been raised to be a “good Southern lady” who never wanted to appear rude or anything less than hospitable, she refrained from remarking on any aspect of the man’s appearance whatsoever as she reminded herself that it was not her place to mention or pass judgement on the man’s attire (despite him trying entirely too hard to appear not to care about the way he looked).
It was, however, her place to welcome her guest into her home and make him as comfortable as possible. And dammit that’s exactly what she planned to do.
Myna couldn’t help but notice the way the man had tucked his face deep into that God-awful scarf after glaring at her unwaveringly for at least 30 seconds. She feared that he might just be reading her mind in that moment, but eventually simply decided to do her best to be a good host. “You look cold. Would you like some” but before she could finish the man cut her off.
“You’re an Omega”. It was more of a statement than a question.
If Myna wasn’t uncomfortable before, she surely was now. The two stood staring at one another neither moving. Sira, twisted her head back and forth watching them as if there were some invisible tennis match happening in her living room between the two. Myna, despite her deep discomfort, steadied herself and broke the silence.
“Yes, I am. And how are you today, Alpha? Would you like to have a seat or some coffee?” Martha Stewart eat freaking your heart out.
The man, without averting his gaze, nodded but made no attempt to move until Myna was well into the kitchen. When she returned she found the couple still standing. She presented them each with a large cup full of black coffee which to her surprise he drank it in its entirety almost at once not even allowing her time to offer cream or sugar. Myna, not to be a bad host, offered another cup which he accepted and again finished quickly and she gave no reaction.
"Always know where your exits are” her brother's voice reminded her as she took the seat farthest away from the man (and also closest to the door). She was allowing him time to adjust to her scent, but Sira had apparently determined that the time was right for introductions and began.
“Myna this is Shouta – I told you about him coming over this weekend. Shouta this is Myna, my roommate.”
Before either had a chance to exchange pleasantries, which Myna wasn’t sure the man sitting before her would even do anyway, Sira continued trepidatiously “You guys okay?”
“I’m fine.” The man flatly stated “It just surprised me.”
Sira nervously eyed Myna until she nodded her head as well. Myna looked at the man who was removing his scarf and could see his face more clearly now. Other than his complete disregard for fashion (or any semblance of it), Myna could see some of what her roommate had previously described to be his more handsome characteristics.
His hair long with just the kind of fullness and body that she had paid small fortunes for in the past. His body thick with muscles strong and large though not so much that they were intimidating. He had solid onyx eyes which Myna wanted to actually step closer and examine just to see if they held a pupil within them at all.
He’s not unattractive her Omega prodded which she ignored once the scarf was gone. She didn’t think he could look worse, but the purple bags, bloodshot eyes, pale skin and numerous scars – some small and long since healed others much more recent- proved her assumption to be incorrect. He actually looked better wearing that dingy dirty old rag.
It wasn’t that the man wasn’t handsome, as Sira had previously described him to be, but the poor thing sitting before her was obviously not well cared for and appeared overworked, malnourished, sleep deprived, under significant stress or a combination of them all.
Myna felt a slight irritation at her best friend for not taking better care of her lover, but had to remind herself that Sira was a Beta and Betas just weren't as good at that kind of thing as Omegas were. She, though, felt an instinctual urge to hug and feed the man, yet due to his off-putting personality, she easily resisted. “I take it you didn’t know?"
The man directly seated before her before responded somewhat annoyed “No, Sira must have forgotten to relay that piece of information.”
Sira unsure how to read the room or its inhabitants interrupted “I’m so sorry Shouta I didn’t even think about it. I can’t smell her so it just slipped my mind. Should we leave? Are you gonna be okay?"
The dark-haired man finally showed the tiniest bit of life looking at her smiling ever so slightly, “No, I have more control than that. My apologies if my reaction offended you Ms….?” He said as he turned his attention back to Myna.
“You can just call me Myna. And no offense taken. You aren’t the first Alpha that I’ve ever met. And any friend of Sira’s is a friend of mine, so there’s no need to stand on formality here either.”
“That stands to reason. You may call me Shouta or Aizawa. Doesn’t matter to me.’’
Sira breathed for what Myna believed must have the first time since the pair walked through the front door. It wasn’t long before Sira was rambling on about the day she had spent with Shouta at his job at a special school for Japan’s up and coming professional heroes. All the while Myna sat dutifully looking attentive (though not actually listening) to her roommate as she awaited the first opportunity that presented itself to make her escape to the sanctuary that was her bedroom without, of course, appearing rude.
Myna couldn’t wait to get away from the noise of her overly excited roommate, away from the man whom she believed to be suffering from what she could only assume to be terrorist level interrogations and away from that SMELL. his smell.
It wasn’t that Myna had never been in such close proximity to an Alpha, hell, she was raised by two of them and surrounded almost solely by them growing up. Even today she still had several Alpha friends of her own choosing, but the aroma coming from the man seated on her loveseat was almost too much to bear.
Myna jumped at the reminder alert on her phone and with absolute terror realized the reason her discomfort and concentration issues. The reason why she was having trouble remembering, the reason she was slightly irritated by the Alpha’s presence, the reason for her nostalgia, the reason she was so emotional and had subconsciously thrown on the softest (though most awful looking) clothes she could find, the reason her body was reacting to his scent so severely. It was her Heat.