Chapter Text
Zeke had always hidden his soulmark.
Even when his friends asked him what number was written, or even the color, he refused to answer.
It wasn’t as if he was ashamed of it— well maybe a little— but it was his soulmate, after all. Someone who was made for him, and he was made for her, too. And although Zeke never admitted it, he was quite sentimental when it came to soulmates and soulmarks.
Perhaps this came from his family, his parents, grandparents, great grandparents, aunts, uncles, and so on— they all were with their soulmates, and they were happy too.
His family was mainly comprised of elite tiers. Maybe the occasional mid tier, or high tier strewn about— or even a god tier in his distant ancestry, but never a low tier— let alone a cripple, a 1.0.
And yet, that was exactly what was inscribed on his wrist in taunting, ice blue lettering, ever dull and ever lasting.
When he first came to his parents about it, their faces displayed a pensive countenance. It was obvious that they were disappointed, after all, they had raised Zeke to respect and faithfully follow the hierarchy, as it is the basis of the society in which they all live.
Although now, they were faced with a dilemma. Tell little Zeke to follow his brain and follow the hierarchy to the bitter end, disavowing his soulmate— or tell him to follow his heart, to be with his destined lover, in turn disobeying the order that was put in place.
Zeke’s parents chose neither of these options.
”It’s okay, my dear, your soulmate is just a late bloomer, is all. I’m sure her power will grow in no time.” Is what he remembered hearing his mother say on that fateful day.
But what a load of crap that was.
Zeke is currently 17 years old, attending his fourth year at Wellston Private High School.
The number on his wrist still is, and probably always will be, a 1.0.
Zeke, the haughty elite tier, destined to fall in love with a cripple. Pathetic.
He had only known of one cripple in his lifetime, besides his soulmate, that is— and that was the belligerent and unprincipled John. If his soulmate was anything like that man, they would never get along.
Considering that the two are fated to be lovers, though, maybe this particular cripple would be more principled.
Either way, it wasn’t the best situation to be in. Hiding his mark was quite the feat in and of itself, but being with his soulmate would probably be harder. An elite with a cripple. A violation of the order, the hierarchy.
And if Zeke was honest, he really didn’t want to ever see his soulmate.
To him, reputation is more important than anything, even the hierarchy. Dating a cripple would ruin his reputation for good, and that was a no go.
Despite that, Zeke wanted a soulmate. He wanted to feel loved. He wanted someone to hold him. He wanted to love.
So he was jealous. Actually— jealousy would be an understatement.
He vehemently hated the soulmate couples at his school. He hated seeing their cloying, smiling faces, just taunting him. The slightly brighter glow of their wrists while they fought— it made him sick.
He morosely stared down at the number on his wrist written in blue. He lifted his finger and lightly traced the number, a slight frown tugging at his lips.
”I just wish it could change” He thought, yawning absentmindedly.
He was growing somnolent, and thought that he needed a nice rest. He laid his head on the pillow and rested his eyes.
Although it wasn’t long until his eyes fluttered open, awoke by a strange blue light.
”Did I leave my window open?”
He glanced over at his window
“No..”
His eyes surveyed the room.
“It’s coming from inside..?”
The light seemed to be brightest closer to him, his eyes darted to arm, which seemed to be the source.
His eyes widened as they trailed his arm, eventually reaching the source.
And at the source of the light lied a ‘6.8’ written in blue.