Chapter Text
‘Hiro, you’re thinking too hard about this.’
‘And if you say it one more time, I’m ditching you, Ryo-san.’ Mahiro bites back. ‘Good luck explaining what you were doing in that place alone to Lii-san later.’
‘You want me dead so much, huh.’ Ryoga smiles mirthlessly, before pulling him aside to where the pheromones of the other Alphas were the least suffocating.
Mahiro lets him, if only because he feels like he’d start a brawl if he stayed there a second longer.
„There” being the giant crowd that came to the backstage of the illegal Omega auction, obviously.
In this world, with overwhelming number of Betas and Alphas, Omegas, people whose bodies adjusted to giving birth regardless of gender, made barely ten percent of the whole population. For every Omega, there were three Alphas and six Betas born. With this kind of imbalance it was natural they were perceived as the rarest trophy to have.
That is not to say governments didn’t notice the danger and, since as long as Mahiro could remember, the streets were full of leaflets and propaganda cars asking families to hand over their Omegan relatives under protection of special services. Those services were supposed to then thoroughly scan every Alpha or Beta willing to match, while showering the Omegas in the luxuries until they are properly partnered.
Of course, it was a faulty and corrupted system, that according to Ryoga, became such within few years from getting set up, and people quickly caught on, that the rich and powerful people at top used their influences to hoard Omegas like badges of honor, even if they’d break a decent match up as a result.
And that caused the underbelly of the society - which, honestly speaking, wasn’t that far from the top - to rear its head, creating fake protection agencies only to get Omegas onto auctions like these. What happened to them was no different than what would happen had the government took them, maybe sans the disgusting lie of „thorough matching process” - people here openly declared they are buying Omegas with their money and influence, without pretending to be decent people.
Mahiro knew that he technically filled every single requirement to be there. He was an Alpha, his group was one of the main distributors of the weapon to both the army and the underground, making him a small tycoon, his closest ally was the head of the narcotic empire (whose front was a medical company; the guts of Ryoga still amazed Mahiro, even if he will never tell him that). If there was one thing he needed to establish his image as the unbeatable head, it was a harem of Omegas, preferably already with his kids on the way to make sure his line will continue without anybody being able to take the family over.
He knew that.
He knew he could make good job by playing the game. He knew that Ryoga took almost perverse pleasure from exploiting the broken system and having a pair of Omegan brothers reunited, safe and under his care (though who took care of whom sometimes was unclear, in Lihito’s case; then again, the only thing older brother and Alpha officially owning him agreed on was doting on the younger brother, so that was a complicated relationship from the start). The problem was.
Mahiro was uninterested.
Yes, he was an Alpha. Yes, he knew knotting felt satisfying.
No, he still didn’t think it was justifying bringing a person down to the level of his decoration. Toy. Whatever other bosses thought of their harems of Omegas.
Mahiro didn’t see the appeal. But he apparently had to at least pretend like he cares. And that’s why they’re in this – objectively very pleasant and luxurious – room, full of horny Alphas all waiting for the great unveil of the today’s batch of unfortunate souls that presented as Omegas.
But, since he has no choice but play the game others are playing, he decides he can at least complain about it. And that’s exactly what he’s doing now, arms crossed, and grumbling under his breath, much to Ryoga’s amusement.
‘And what kind of front is this?’ Mahiro flicks the name card they got offered at the entry. ‘SeekingOmegas.com, for all designated dating needs! Ugh.’
‘It’s a front, Hiro. Nobody really cares for it.’
‘Who will buy a front of a dating page for Omegas when our government is literally abducting Omegas from their homes?’ Mahiro throws his hands up.
‘Technically speaking, organizers of this auction do the same.’ Ryoga points out. ‘The only thing that differs is that the ten percent of Omega’s price goes as a gag money to their family. It’s less than one percent in case of a government matching, so that’s a better deal to their loved ones, at least. Though Lihito actually loved that his adoptive family got shit for him.’
Mahiro exhales angrily as a whole answer. Ryoga sighs.
‘How about you think about it like that,’ he says, patting younger Alpha’s shoulder heavily, ‘you find a cute baby boy or girl to spoil rotten instead of letting some old pervert tie them down and knot them whenever they want. Think about it like a good deed!’
Mahiro rolls his eyes.
‘Just because I don’t want to shove my knot in every hole I see doesn’t mean I’m a good person, Ryo-san.’ he says. ‘My business probably killed hundreds of people by now.’
‘And you have a chance to make it one less, such a good deal.’ Ryoga responds, unperturbed, before pulling him forward. ‘Come now, the pre-auction ogling has started.’
‘Pre-what.’
‘If you find a hottie you know will be abused to heck and back because of the very high price they will score, you can buy them out before that happens.’ Ryoga translates. ‘I can buy them for you myself as a present, if you don’t want to waste funds-’
‘Ryo-san.’ Mahiro hisses. ‘Those are people.’
‘Those you headshotted last week were people as well,’ Ryoga counters easily, ‘but they didn’t deserve mercy just for that. Those here at least will have debt of loyalty to you, so it’s not a bad idea to buy yourself a loyal actor. Nobody needs to know you’re sugar daddy without knotting.’
‘Those contracts are signed with mutual consent, though-’
‘Then buy a sex slave without a sex part.’ Ryoga shrugs. ’At least you will have people off of your case for a while.’
This gives Mahiro a pause.
Taking part in the auction he considered immoral (he knew it sounded ridiculous, coming from a weapon dealer) still filled him with disgust, but at the same time...
It was true he needed to quell the rumors to keep the family going strong.
And it was true the people on the podest under the furthest wall all looked pleasing, though it was most likely the result of excessive dolling them up to raise their price. But if he can find the one with enough brains not to get into his way...
A scent of sea breeze on a hot day washes over him and all of his thoughts stop.
‘Hiro?’
He stares at the Alpha next to him. Ryoga looks concerned. What?
Could it be he didn’t feel it? This... refreshing scent that cut even through their pheromones? That breeze that clears his mind of any urge to fight, to curse people out and just look and appreciate the-
Ah.
Damn it.
He was there. The myth that had like one in a million chance of happening, especially in their reality. And out of all things, it had to be Mahiro’s...
‘Hiro...? You’ve changed your mind?’
He can hear Ryoga trailing him as he suddenly moves to the line of pretty humans, supervised by workers of the FindingOmegas (seriously, what a ridiculous name it is).
‘No,’ he answers, even as he stops in front of the one, the oldest, yet frailest looking man with jet black hair.
Who flinches hearing his voice before looking up, eyes as blue as the clear sky on a sunny day wide and slightly glassy.
Why he couldn’t at least be ugly?! At least one drawback to make Mahiro able to recover his sanity would really be nice, destiny.
‘I still think this was a mistake.’ Mahiro mutters softly, as his destined mate trembles in a too-thin and revealing clothes, pupils dilating.
‘Please...’
Was he pleading to be taken? To leave him alone? Get out of all this mess?
Mahiro didn’t know, and probably would never know. Definitely not after that.
‘Excuse me,’ he turns to the closest employee, eyeing them suspiciously, ‘I’m taking this one.’
*
Kaoru hated fog, back in the hospital. It was a sign of him not getting better, of his conscience swaying in and out of his body as too much or too little oxygen got into his lungs.
Then, he got better.
And then his temperature spiked, and fog made its return, though now, according to the doctors he grew to believe about everything, that one wasn’t a sign of illness, but completely natural.
Because he was an Omega.
And then, he grew quite grateful for that fog. It helped with feeling too much, hearing too much, words he’s never heard spoken about himself, tones he’s never heard around his bed, touches never experienced during examination. It protected him against the leering, catcalling, and even those who tried to feel him up backed away when realizing he’s about to topple over anyway.
But.
That fog wouldn’t last forever, even if he is pretty sure he remembers somebody shoving a pill down his throat, a medicine that temporarily thickened that fog again, protecting him from the mass of scents all mixing together to form a stench of lewd lust.
And then one more scent appeared, cutting through both the stench and the fog, like a burst of firework cuts through the darkness of the night, even just momentarily.
‘Please...’
If he could stay like this for a bit longer, bask in the feeling that, as long as that light-like scent is close by, he will know only safety and comfort. He hasn’t felt this way since it was announced he’s an Omega and he most likely won’t be coming back home to his parents anymore.
‘Excuse me, I’m taking this one.’
Ah, the voice has almost the same effect that scent has, even if it sounds faintly annoyed.
Kaoru wanted to be closer to it. To that voice, that scent, that human. It had to be human, right-
Oh.
Right.
Not just human.
An Alpha.
His Alpha.