Chapter Text
Masuyo is rarely this annoyed, over something considered trivial to others. To micromanage at her age is both respectable and overbearing depending on who is asked.
The controlled alpha walks to the average looking residence, the place her young trouble has taken to calling home since he graduated from university. The housing conversation is an old and tiresome topic, picking locations that did not suit them. Tiny little average buildings instead of the ones she wanted. Tall sky touching complexes or sprawling manors in which announced their status as hers.
This neighbourhood looked like the backdrop in a low budget drama, boring and plain with no spark to speak of. It was lost on her what the appeal could be. Her nuisance was determined to give her gray hair, that had to be the answer.
He refused to enter the program she had suggested, instead becoming who he was today, he didn’t want the car she gave him. The lovely apartment penthouse she offered as his gift was rejected as well.
Honestly where had she gone wrong?
Her elder child was lovely and listened to her, following her words perfectly but that one. It was if a switch had been flipped; one day her little prince and the next, his ears were blocked and his tongue serving as a decoration for his mouth.
No longer following the plans she had drafted since his conception. Ungrateful brat; thinking he knew better than her.
The woman who was responsible for his life, his upbringing and privilege. Her long hours of dedication to expanding her business into what it was today, the wealth she had amassed and the connections she had formed. All for his benefit.
However, only one of her off springs had chosen to use what she had laid out for them. Her brilliant daughter had become a successful corporate lawyer, her grace and argument skills were legendary. Her Junko made alphas quake in their boots at the mere mention of her name, people settled when they heard she had accepted the case. Masuyo’s eldest who was mated, who had gifted her a grandchild. Who had listened to her. Who came regularly to the house. Paying familiar respect, unlike the girl’s younger brother.
She should have known, despite the seven years age difference the siblings had once been close, to the point her boy had mirrored his sister’s mannerisms. Now he was entering his terrible twos, about twenty-four years late.
What a blessing.
Marching on wards her red bottom heels clattering on the sidewalk. She doesn’t double check her phone to make sure about the address, she wouldn’t have stepped out of her Cadillac if she had any doubts. The driver had opened the door for her without saying a single word, knowing to wait for her return. The wind blows the bottoms of her pants suit, thankfully her hair is pinned up in an elaborate bun. The handy work of her mate.
Punching in the passcode, she makes her way inside the home. It is tidy if not cramped by her standards. She sees two pairs of house slippers by the door, her son is at least thoughtful for this action. Taking the slightly smaller pair, she begins her tour of the place.
Not having been invited over in the past, she does not know the house plans. Other than the generic two-bedroom home from the blueprints on public record. The wall colour is neutral and there are minimal decorations. Making a mental note to send over an interior designer when her son is next present. Her finger trails over the bookshelf and is pleasantly surprised to see there is no dust, whomever her son hired is a competent housekeeper.
She doesn’t see any photos on the walls but her boy’s bookshelves speak of his interests, including a budding new hobby of drawing faces and bodies. If her eyes read the titles correctly. There is a very small line of manga, written by the same two authors. One uses the pen name of leaf.
Bored of the living space she moves to the kitchen and discovers a stocked fridge. The ingredients look fresh, not surprising as her son had a natural talent for cooking, studying under their private chefs as a young teen. His argument for learning was an alpha should know how to provide.
Shelter, food, water…
Her wife would have added love to the list but sadly in their social sphere sometimes one has to settle for merely being tolerated. Masuyo had been blessed, back when she was struggling to keep an extra yen in her pocket to buy fabric with. Her clothing designs not selling; the most beautiful omega had walked past her. The alpha will never forget how that scent had given her heart palpitations. Inspiration hit her, unable to do anything but sketch the other until the afternoon had passed by and Masuyo had the unknown omega drawn in a traditional wedding kimono. Shading in a vibrant red colour, her hand had jerked across the page as warm air was blown into her ear. Snapping her head back to see her muse standing behind her, a playful grin on her face. The alpha was struck mute.
Her mate ends up being able to carry the conversation enough for both of them, and then makes their fashion line bloom into a success. By the time the two have their daughter, Masuyo’s brand is in many different high-end stores. Costly for the normal shopper and a must for those wanting to make a statement.
Then her little weatherman comes into existence while her Ichika is on a hiatus from modeling.
Both of her children are muses to her, their looks and personalities giving life to her designs.
Segasaki had different ideas, the draw backs to having children is at some point they create their own ideas and sense of self. No longer letting her play dress up with them or dictate what is appropriate.
Lately, for the last few months he had not communicated with her at all. Didn’t call her, text or so much as pass a message along to her from smoke signals. Turned down invitations to dinner, wouldn’t come over for a drink after work and then she heard he had gone to one of her stores and bought a sweater from a rival brand, instead of hers!
The sheer nerve!
The piece wasn’t even suited for him, the colours were all wrong. He had to have done it to annoy her.
She does approve of the natural light in this tiny home. Traveling down a small hallway she sees three doors all closed. Taking a random handle, she opens one to see a small bathroom and shower. The white tiles and walls make the space seem bigger than it really is. She sees a hairbrush and the bathroom is set up for use but other than that, holds nothing of value. Closing the door, she strides to the one next to this bathroom.
A folded laundry hamper sits in front of the door leading to the stairwell.
A cozy bedroom with a covered desk is the first thing she sees. The papers are half hazard spread over the surface. Rough sketches and odd angles for panels in need of better dialogue.
The alpha flips through the draft, seeing the half naked figures and wonders if she knows someone in her son’s inner circle who writes erotica manga. Her mind is a blank but she does pause when she discovers a pattern. The artist is using her son’s profile for the lead male character.
Interesting if the creator knows about this pattern or if it is hidden in their mind. On the desk is a completed version of a manga which the mother opens without shame. Skimming over the pages she reads the highly sexualized tale of miscommunication between two young men. She glances down at the other naked artwork which has more female curves. The old alpha can understand both stories are about an alpha/omega pairing but it would be for a vastly different audience judging by how one is slightly more character driven and the other is a pure fantasy escape.
Other than the desk the room is organized. It does not have the dark woods her boy likes, instead it is light and a little playful. Her hand glides over the flannel bedding, its warm but soft to the touch, the opposite of what Segasaki was known to use, her son like the feeling of silk sheets as his body temperature was higher than average. There is a trace of her son’s scent on the pillow but overall, another scent is stronger. The room hold’s this scent trapped in everything, including the floor boards.
The owner of the scent was comparable to a honey-soaked oranges. Opening one of the nightstand drawers; the container has a stack of condoms, one box unopened, a bottle or three of lube, and when she rattles the drawer a small container of pills rolls towards the edge.
She shuts the drawer. From her place sitting on the bed, she can see a clear view of the sky. The white fluffy clouds are pretty as they float through the light blue sky. Across from the workspace is a slender bookcase loaded with more manga. Whomever sleeps in this room, enjoys both reading and creating.
The closet is filled with clothes for a masculine figure. Another drawer is stacked with boxers, some are everyday wear whereas others, she paws through the cotton, silk and satin fabrics are for nicer occasions. The colours would look nice on a more tanned complexion. Omega based on the cut and how they would sit on narrow hips.
Her son has a tenant; a young omega boy renter.
Well that certainly created more than a handful of questions, most importantly when this deal was struck. Secondary why she wasn’t told of this development. Her introverted son had branched out, letting a single soul close to his heart.
The last room will be her son’s. Not spending a long amount of time in the space, she categorizes everything. What is like his room in her own home, the little touches of life he has added to the space and the traces of the omega’s scent in the bedding. These silk sheets were not washed as often as the flannel. Having a pungent scent of alpha.
Gathering her straying thoughts, she determines the two might not share a bed every night. It is clear they are physical but not acting as a married unit.
What had her boy done to ruin a mating so soon?
She must have wasted her money sending him to those debate classes in middle school.
She doesn’t open the drawers or closet doors in her son’s room, respecting his privacy. Doubting she would find much of importance anyway. There were no scraps of papers with his heart or thoughts written out. No receipts to businesses or a new menu for a potential date night.
Discreetly letting herself out she left the house, checking to see if the lock caught. Wouldn’t do to let just anyone enter her son’s den.
The driver has the door open for her when she crossed the street. Already she is pulling her phone from her bag. Constructing her plan with each text, she wanted to see exactly who was in her son’s sights.
*
The lobby is startled by the arrival of an older alpha woman and one who even from the distance can be picked as one as well. Gray hair is flowing down her back, the crows lines around her sharp eyes do not mark her as aging but as gifted wisdom through the passing of time. A long peach colour dress sways with each of her steps, the silver heels flash as she cat walked her way through the lobby to the elevator. Her arm is being securely supported by the taller lawyer, the other woman in her own pointed toe heels, her blouse has lace around the collar and the end of her sleeves, giving it a sense of femininity. Her dark eyes dare people to create a confrontation, to give her a reason to start a scene. No one has the courage to hinder the pair of alphas.
One brave soul by the desk stutters out to ask who they wish to see. Knowing exactly who the two women are and hoping there is not a negative connotation. If the news channel was being sued then people were getting their belongings to jump ship.
However, the mother and daughter are able to take the metal box alone. The smirk they share is quirked on their lips. Mirrored both on their lips and in the glass projected back at them. They know the third alpha has finished his weather segment and will be able to speak with them, whether he wants an audience is up to the stubborn man.
The floor is filled with desks, each one is a carbon copy of the one before it and the one after it. Some hold personal items but the majority are bland, and basic.
It is easy to spot Segasaki, he is surrounded by a crowd of admirers, the pretty faces of younger women and the jealous teasing from older male colleagues.
Without an ounce of hesitation, the sister calls out to her younger pest of a sibling.
“We need to talk.” She says threatening. Mother’s nails dig into the fabric of her sleeve. Her word choice is sloppy.
Segasaki has the minimum of bewilderment expressions flash over his features as if he had never believed them to enter his professional life. The man’s cohost grows tiny in his shadow and Masuyo knows a fan on sight. The timid omega is hiding behind her son but even with the distance she knows who this girl is not.
Not her boy’s mate.
Segasaki ignores the whispers as he walks to his mother, taking her frail arm from his sister’s slender one.
“Mother, what are you doing here?” He asks her in an inquiring tone. The one she knows is skin deep, he doesn’t really care for her reason.
When her son was younger, she had taught him how to play pretend, this was one of the lessons he remembered, to make small talk. Appear as if he was listening or was invested in what the speaker had to say.
“Can a mother not just take her two darling children out for lunch?” She responded back. Enjoying the exclamations of startlement and shock which echoes through the watchers.
Segasaki wouldn’t have used her name to land this position, he had been determined on making his own pathway, leaving it so narrow she hadn’t believed there was space for anyone else to walk on it.
“I have my own…” Her son said unamused.
“Not enough for three, let’s go. I have a meeting after this.” Junko said briskly. Pushing a rebelling strand of hair behind her ear.
Not willing to let her younger but much taller brother escape his fate. With a heavy sigh and a fake smile, he escorted them from the building. Chatting while Segasaki nods along, humming every once in a while.
The mother pats his hand, showing how happy she is for making an effort. Lunch is a quiet affair but it is peaceful. She has the belief her son thinks he might be able to get away without having to reveal his mate.
He lets her kiss his cheek, stooping down to her height, a charming smile directed at his sister, as he pulls away his mother takes her chance.
“I can’t wait to invite your omega for a family meal. Text me their favorite dishes and I’ll get the cook to make them.” She whispers in his ear. Seeing his eyes widen in alarm. His expression closes off. Face returning to not yet sculpted marble.
“They don’t like eating out.” Segasaki said as he went back to work.
“Rude.” Junko mutters, rolling her eyes.
“No matter if they don’t come to us, then we go to them.” She said with a smirk.
*
Ringing the door bell was odd. Her wife had been the one to glare at her until she pressed the button. Exasperated her mate was going to punch in the code instead. Masuyo didn’t see a point; she hadn’t enforced the lock door policy why start after her son left her home?
Her omega narrowed her eyes at the muttering. The alpha sealed their lips and flashed a sweet smile.
Holding her hand, the older woman pressed on the ringer. Waiting a moment, then two, then three. Still hearing no noise, she forcefully pressed again. Three dings in rapid succession.
Mizuki should be home already; they had waited to give him time in case he arrived late but by now he should be more than comfortable after a long work day. To hide within his house is childish and not how he was raised. Her wife’s face twists into a pout, bothered by the time passing as well. A petite hand is balled into a fist to lightly hit the door, not unlike she had done when he was in one of his darker moods as a teenager.
The pair is interrupted by the door being swung open, a flustered young face is standing before them, catching his breath. Dressed in oversized clothing and his hair is slightly messy as if he had been running his fingers through the strands throughout the day. Startled to see two well dressed women on the door step the young man’s hand curls over the edge of the door, pulling it closer to himself to shield them from looking inside the premises.
“Hello aunties, is there something I could help you with?” The boy asks, shyness lingers in the question but concern is also evident.
“Can you get your alpha?” The female alpha asks and sees the boy’s lips lose their nervous quirk. The frown making his expressive eyes turn bitter.
The omega glances over his shoulder, his bottom lip is bitten under his top level of his teeth. His shoulders are hunching and Masuyo can see the exact moment where he decides he is going to lie to them.
“He’s not home.” The boy says quietly. Stepping back to close the door.
His scent is muted but she can smell his indecision. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he distances himself from the situation, retreating behind the safety of the door.
Her foot would block that from happening if she felt it was required but she has a feeling it isn’t for she can already smell him. The petulant scent mixed with the tingling notes of shower gel. The towel around his neck and the possessive glint in his eyes the second he is able to pull the door wide open, removing the smaller hand from the wood. An arm is wrapped around the slim shoulders pulling him backwards into a broader chest.
Her nose wrinkles under the scent of alpha which is being used as a cloak over the omega, marking him under Mizuki’s care and authority. His nose is tucked close to the boy’s ear, no doubt whispering something to his mate. As the younger male shifted his eyes to the ground.
Mizuki blinked in surprise at the sight of his parents. There was a glint in the dark orbs.
“Mother, mom what are you two doing here?” The weatherman asked, voice nonchalant but he doesn’t fool his parents who can hear the interrogative tone.
The omega boy sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes jump to land on the alpha, looking highly distressed to know who they are. Panicked and worried to be exposed like this.
“We thought it was time to see how you were doing; you haven’t been home in forever.” Her lovely mate coos, a hand reaching to brush the taller’s hair. “Mom missed her boy.”
The weatherman gives her a soft smile and bends his body lower to her level. It does not escape the female alpha’s attention that this action causes the smaller boy to bend as well, hiding his face from their views.
She rolled her eyes at the display, marching forward and inviting herself in. Pausing long enough to take her shoes off. She can smell food cooking. The young man is sputtering after her, asking if he can get her anything or if she wants to sit.
Masuyo does not quite ignore him but neither does she verbally respond to his queries. However, she is listening to him when she stops in front of the tiny table for two. Her eyes scan the room and see no other place to eat.
“We’re staying for dinner.” She commands.
Mizuki growls at her words and the boy gets more nervous but thankfully goes to fetch more plates. She believes the food is almost finished, sliding down to take one of the open chairs, seeing the unamused expression of her own omega but not willing to back down from her son’s secrecy.
“Yoh.” Her son chides softly when the boy takes a plate over to the living room. Setting the low table, on his way back the omega stops beside her boy to tell the other, he’s going to grab a desk chair for the table.
Mizuki looks annoyed, grabbing the delicate arm he tugs the other to the small table and orders the boy to sit. Yoh does without complaint. Looking puzzled, and his eyes widen when the alpha grabs himself a plate and goes to the makeshift dining table.
Yoh’s fingers curl into Mizuki’s shirt sleeve the second his mate sits on the floor, seeking comfort unknowingly. The alpha is sitting beside him, unlike how the table had been arranged where they would have been across from each other.
“Segasaki?” The boy hisses when Mizuki blatantly kisses the side of his throat.
“What? This is the kids table; shouldn’t we be childish?” Mizuki snaps.
“That boy.” Her mate mutters lowly. Snatching the plate from the table for two to join the couple. “Darling, you’ll help me up after, won’t you?”
The older omega sweetly asks the young one. He readily agrees with a vicious head nod.
Left with no choice, the matriarch settles beside her playful omega. Yoh is the one to serve them. She feels it is not out of duty but more as an excuse to flee the impending fight.
“Couldn’t you have called before coming?” Mizuki grits out in frustration.
“Could you not have sent us at least a card, declaring your mating?” She countered.
The man’s face twists but he stays silent as the omega places a full plate before the rest of the table. She lowers her eyes to survey the meal.
Nonuniformly shaped vegetables, the rice is slightly over cooked, the sauce is too dark. She can hear her wife crunching down on an undercooked carrot chunk. The forced smile on her face.
Yoh doesn’t make eye contact, instead focusing on his own meal, a bottle of soya sauce is passed to his lover without being asked.
Her son had definitely not picked this omega for his cooking skills, the female alpha takes small bites of her own meal, unused to the novice culinary craft. Still, he is a pretty one, good facial features and a sweet voice.
Like a little bird.
Her son glares at her from across the table.
She smirks back and releases her own pleased scent into the open room.
“Darling, how long have you known our son?” Her wife asks.
Yoh tells them a tale. Leave it to her son to propose to someone without bothering to date them first. Honestly from the sounds of it, she should just be lucky Mizuki hadn’t found a stray kid and convinced the younger to raise it with them.
“Yoh, do you draw?” Masuyo asks, politely curious.
The boy turns bright red and fumbles over his words, confirming he is a manga creator but not elaborating. His eyes fly to Mizuki to be rescued but the alpha instead looks amused by the show.
“How lovely, can you tell me what you published so I can read it?” Ichika says innocently. Her happy grin pulling downwards into a frown at the scent of distressed omega.
“You wouldn’t like it.” He rushes out, hands waving wildly.
“Oh…Is it the graphic type?” The female omega questions.
It makes the boy flush a deeper shade of red. Her wife purses her lips in conviction.
“I’m not very good with blood or violence but I’m willing to read it if it’s your creation.” Ichika announces supportively and Mizuki breaks out laughing.
Yoh looks at him in betrayal.
“Sweetheart, he does those porn novels. The ones with naked women and faceless men.” Masuyo teases, with a small grin.
Her wife looks relieved.
“Thank goodness, I’ve never turned my nose up at naked women but I get a little faint with blood and guts.” Ichika admits shyly. “Is it like those western paintings? Pretty omegas in youthful beauty but the second you place an alpha in the frame it becomes pornographic.” Her omega complains.
Yoh and her begin an in-depth conversation on art history and she likes the way the boy’s eyes glow in delight, confident in what he is saying. Although the mother will admit she favours this moment because her son is also the happiest, she has seen him in years.
“I couldn’t help but notice last time I was here.” Masuyo says loud enough for her son to hear. “Yoh’s room had your scent but for some reason there was no nest in your bedroom.” She said with a frown.
Mizuki frowns as well, his eyes narrowing at the implied accusation.
“Yoh does not have much experience building his own nest and recently purchased extra bedding, before he had the single set.” Mizuki confides.
His mother is not impressed and her scent sours. His matches hers in terms of despondency.
She sees the exact moment Yoh smells the unhappiness in the air, instinctually baring his neck in Mizuki’s direction and a barely audible moan leaves his lips. Her son pulls him closer, nearly into his own lap.
Highly improper but she decides to let this slip but only the one time.
“You will correct that. Mates should share the same nest.” Her words are marked with finality.
Mizuki rolls his eyes, closing his lids to place a kiss on Yoh’s hairline.
“I expect a formal notice of your mating.”
Mizuki looks put out, shifting Yoh closer to his body.
“Yoh is shy. We’ll announce it when he’s ready and not a second before.”
Mizuki says intensely. His scent grows stronger, over powering her own.
She concedes. Holding her own mates hand under the table.
When the two women leave the home, they share a private moment between them.
“We are going to have the cutest grandchildren.” Masuyo said proudly.
“Hell yeah, soon we’ll have chubby cheeks to pinch.” Her mate says, leaning her body against her alpha to gaze upwards at her wife.
*
Tsumugi is about half an hour away from falling into a deep sleep standing up. She is returning home from a long day of book keeping at her job. As a beta she has certain responsibilities and duties. Has to prove herself to be above the omegas and able to keep up with the alphas.
Closing the front door behind herself, she sees the family portrait sitting on the side table. The last family photo of four. Her husband is standing beside her, her eldest son is on her other side. After him is the youngest boy.
His eyes are almost completely hidden under his bangs, the opposite of his brother who is staring proudly into the camera lens. Handsome face beaming, three matching smiles.
Her face grows softer as she picks up the frame, seeing the family of three happy betas. Her husband and her might not have locked eyes and recognized each other as mates. Been over the top the way alphas and omegas are but their love story was no less important.
A quiet little family of ordinary people, not driven by ruts or heats.
They had been until her younger son had his first heat at sixteen, had called her from the sick room of his school asking for cab money. Her other son Itsuki had arrived from university to take the younger boy home safely. The cab had fined her for the stained seats.
Which she had scolded the boy for once he was coherent. Yoh was her…well she wouldn’t say problem child but he surely wasn’t an easy one. Trapped in his own head, unwilling to talk with classmates or even his own cousins. Carrying around his little drawing book.
At first, she had encouraged him, complimenting his doodles; the lines forming a house, the shading of apples and finally his progression to drawing faces. However, she was getting unnerved by how he would then disappear into the blank pages.
She had posed for his first portrait for his art class. Letting his eyes take in her details and flaws, unsettling and unblinking. He had handed it in and she believes she might have the parchment somewhere in her closet; rolled up and tucked into the darkness.
Her socially awkward butterfly, in the sense he was constantly moving between flowers to avoid the attention of those who wished to eat him. She didn’t delude herself into believing her son had never been bullied but the boy didn’t bring it up so neither did she.
In the back of her mind, she wonders what Yoh is doing right now, he had graduated from that arts program he had fought them to go into. With the foolish wish of becoming some sort of manga maker or something like that. Or had he wanted to do animation?
It was a goal that was doomed to fail regardless. His little pictures were okay but hardly worth getting paid over. She didn’t think he would make money selling his panelled stories.
Who would buy the work constructed by an omega?
He should have picked a better field like child care, that was always in high demand. Having long since given up on the hope of her son mating; the few times she had tried to teach him to cook, was beyond disappointing. He had no natural talent for that and well, her leaf was not exactly a riveting conversationist.
He’s cute.
Which is a nice starting point but hardly worth getting invested in. Pretty people exist within all dynamics, her other son for example was far more than a handsome face. He played sports, was in the marketing field and was out going. Had friends throughout his life and was popular in every aspect of his life.
He was even dating an agreeable beta girl from a good background. Tsumugi gives it two years before the pair are married. Afterall the boy has brought her over plenty of times for family dinners. A few times Yoh had been there as well, he had travelled from the university for weekends.
The beta mother does occasionally wonder what he’s up to. Did he keep his job at that bookstore? She doesn’t think he made enough to live off of. Thinking it was part time but maybe the owner had given him more hours. Regardless he hadn’t shown up at their door asking to move back in. Not that there was a stigma about unmated omegas living with their parents.
But in his early twenties without even someone hinting at liking him? It was unlikely that he would be mated, if anything she should prepare for him becoming an old maid. She knows Itsuki considers the same idea. The last family supper with his girlfriend a tentative concept of children had been brought up, due to the raising costs of childcare. Her little forest boy had effortlessly said that Yoh was an omega and would be able to manage their household if she chose to return back to work. Already planning on a home with enough rooms for the trio and future children.
It made her proud to know her son was a planner, not giving into his beastly instincts like alphas did.
Her phone pings and she saw a text from her husband saying he will be late as his train was delayed. Due to the storm from the early afternoon. Absent mindedly she opens the last text from her younger son, having to scroll down from her more recent messages.
“Mom, do you know how to get slick stains out of desk chairs?” Yoh had texted.
“Google it.” She had responded back.
Busy with a project at the time. Honestly not understanding why he would text her something so personal. Technology was the tool children used now a days, why would she have knowledge about omega slick?
If he had his heat than he should have stayed in bed, not ruining his furniture.
This was one thing she disliked about having a child with a different dynamic, people would turn to her as if she knew everything about omegas just because her son was one. She didn’t know much about heats, or mating or nest building. It was bothersome for coworkers once they found out because then she was pestered about it.
One male coworker had even asked how old her daughter was, her shame at saying the omega was her son was palpable. Omegas, typically were girls like alphas were boys.
A blessing was that Yoh for the most part could pass as a beta if one wasn’t standing on top of him or actively seeking his scent out. She doesn’t know what she would have done if he had a strong scent or appeared as a clear omega. If he was shorter or prettier, maybe more talented.
Like the omegas seen on tv.
Desirable to alphas.
Gratefully no one had come sniffing around her door when he lived at home and the boy’s dorm was omega only.
If he had gotten pregnant?
She would have died of mortification. The last thing she needed was her family name connected with a loose omega.
Her husband would as well. It was something they had both talked about in the past, when Yoh was still in their home.
His room has mostly become the family office, his bed is still there but most of his stuff is tucked safely into the closet, to make room for needed items. She had called him angrily when she had seen some of his artwork, the lude pictures. Shouting at him for the crude and morally wrong drawings.
Her largest point being who would want an omega with such a filthy mind.
Shameful she remembers calling him.
The tiny little hiccupping goodbye at the end of the call.
One had to be brutely honest with omegas, they needed a firm hand otherwise they would run wild.
Her parents had always told her when she was growing up. Reminded her loudly when her son had presented.
Maybe she should text Yoh, just to see how he was doing post-grad. If he had moved into one of those omega only boarding houses she had heard about. But she worried that if she did contact him than he would see it as an invitation to ask for money or worse move back in. Twist her words to claim his parents were lonely. Unemployed and unmated would be the foulest combination.
Still, he is her son.
“Travel safely, we’re a few days away from sunny weather.” She texts, not thinking twice before hitting send.
Nearly two hours later she gets a response back.
“Thank you but I stayed home today.”
She blinked; this was the first time he didn’t type mom to her.
“Stay in if possible…wouldn’t want you to get washed away.” She sends.
Waiting to see what he would write.
A few more minutes pass.
“Okay. I have to start dinner. Talk to you later.”
Dismissive and cold.
This isn’t how he normally wrote or was she over analysing it?
He could have been in a hurry or in the middle of something. He mentioned dinner.
She should start her own.
While the married couple pick at their food she tells her husband about their son not being willing to talk with her.
“Just call him later.” Her husband says half listening.
When he leaves the table, he goes to flip through the mail. Stopping at a envelop made of expensive cardstock. Flipping it over to see it is sealed. The husband breaks the seal and his shout caused his wife to drop the plate she was currently washing.
Rushing over, fearing for the worst but not seeing her husband injured or having a heart attack she asks what’s wrong. His answer is to thrust a letter at her. The paper is silky and the ink smells costly.
She has to read it twice before the words truly sink in.
There will be a gathering to celebrate the mating between Segasaki Mizuki and Tanada Yoh. This will mark their six-month anniversary.
She almost passes out herself after reading. There is more, details and times, dates but that is all her brain can latch onto.
She…She…should call her son.
And find out where he has been staying these last few months.