Chapter Text
Monoma’s plan is successful. It works and yet it’s the biggest mistake he’s made. Using Midoriya and the winning headband of ten million points tied to his forehead as a distraction, he takes full advantage of the chaos in the arena and swipes headbands from multiple teams, leaving them with zero points.
The plan is pretty much perfect, and Midoriya proves to be the ideal bait Monoma hoped he would be. Every part of Monoma’s tactic goes smoothly until he takes the headband of one very angry and aggressive alpha. After falling victim to Monoma’s ruse, Bakugou is beyond pissed. He charges at Monoma relentlessly and tries to take his headband back. Each assault is more difficult to defend against than the last, and Monoma isn’t sure how long he can hold out for.
“Fall back!” Monoma orders his team with a harsh swipe of his arm, directing them where to go. As the rider of his team, he’s in charge and this miscalculation of Bakugou’s stubbornness is all his fault. He needs to do something to save his team from being robbed of their points. There’s no way he’ll let Bakugou and his pathetic goon squad take everything they worked so hard for.
“Over there!” He guides his team like a conductor controlling an orchestra. They hide behind a team with a purple-haired rider and use them to block Bakugou’s attacks. It’s the only team in the entire arena that’s not engaged in some crazy chase, and Monoma intends to use them to his full advantage.
Bakugou launches himself at Monoma and goes straight for his neck where the headbands they stole are wrapped like scarfs. Tsuburaba uses his quirk to make an air shield and blocks Bakugou’s explosion, preventing it from blowing off Monoma’s face. “You’re welcome, pretty boy,” Tsuburaba says.
“Yeah, yeah,” Monoma dismisses. “I saved your ass, too. You’re just paying me back so don’t get too cocky.” He uses Tsuburaba’s quirk to make a huge air shield that covers their entire team right as Bakugou jumps them again.
This time the abrasive alpha breaks the invisible shield with his bare hands and releases a huge explosion. The blast knocks Monoma off his teammates' shoulders and sends him flying straight into the purple-haired rider. A sharp pain pierces Monoma’s abdomen and a blood-curdling scream erupts from his throat and ripples through the entire arena. Everyone falls silent and watches in horror as Monoma contorts and spasms helplessly on the floor. His body feels like it’s on fire and his vision swims with dizziness not even a boat ride on a tsunami could give him.
“What the hell did you do to him?!” Tsuburaba growls and stomps to Bakugou.
“I didn’t even touch him. I swear!”
"Like hell, you didn’t!” Tsuburaba starts at Bakugou, but Midnight uses her whip to restrain him. “That’s enough,” she says. All students participating in the cavalry battle turn their attention to her. Tsuburaba squirms in her whip, but it’s wound so tight around his body that he can’t do anything except trash around pointlessly. “Everybody, please calm down-” she starts, but Monoma cramps up and cries out again, breaking the brief hold she had on the surrounding students.
His screams send chills through the students and the audience watching from the stands as his pheromones go crazy and ooze out of his shaking body in droves. The scent is strong and makes alphas and betas in the vicinity lose their minds. Midnight has no choice but to use her quirk to put Monoma to sleep. She can’t let the young omega’s pheromones go wild in public and among everyone.
The other teachers call for the paramedics and two of them show up shortly after Midnight puts Monoma to sleep. Wearing air-filtering face masks as protection they hurry to Monoma’s unconscious body and lift him onto a stretcher. Spurred on by the arousing scent of the omega’s pheromones heavily coating the air, Shinsou bares his teeth at the paramedics and growls at them.
“Calm down, son,” One of the paramedics says. “We’re here to help your friend. Not to hurt him.” They pick up Monoma’s body from the ground using the stretcher and take him away. Shinsou stares at them, unmoving, until they’re completely out of sight, and he can finally breathe again.
Vlad King rushes into Recovery Girl’s office and looks around frantically. “Where is he? What’s wrong with him? Is he okay??”
Recovery Girl walks up to him. “Calm down, it’s okay.”
“That boy will pay for going overboard! I have to talk to Aizawa. He needs to punish that student. I will personally see to it that-”
“It’s okay.” Recovery Girl pats his arm. “Everything is fine. Monoma just went into heat. There is no need to punish anyone.”
“What?” Vlad King looks at her for the first time since he barged in. “He went into heat??”
“Yes, he’s an omega. They tend to do that.”
Vlad King shakes like a volcano about to explode. “I know that! And I know all of my students' secondary genders, so don’t pretend like this is nothing. Heats don’t make people scream like that. It sounded like his organs were exploding!”
She pats his arm again, apologetically this time. “Sorry, you’re right.” She pulls out an extra chair from beside her work desk. “Here. Sit down. I’ll explain everything.”
“No, I want to see him. Is he still in pain?”
“He’s fine. I gave him suppressors.” Recovery Girl pulls him down to sit, and Vlad King reluctantly lets her. “I would've also given him a sedative, but Midnight already took care of that.”
“How can he be fine? Bakugou exploded him alive!”
Recovery Girl shakes her head sympathetically. “Don’t worry, he didn’t. Bakugou had nothing to do with this. I assure you. I checked Monoma’s body for any signs of injury or damage. Apart from getting a sudden and intense heat, he’s completely fine.”
“Then why was he in so much pain if it was just a heat?
“This wasn’t just any regular heat. The presence of a fated mate triggered it.”
Vlad King’s eyebrows draw together. “A fated mate?” His eyes dart to the closed door of the heat room in which Monoma is currently sleeping. “That kind of thing causes this? Are you sure he’s not injured or sick?”
“The full-body exam I did confirms he went into heat. A very strong and painful one, but still just a heat.” She turns around and takes Monoma’s chart off her desk. After briefly scanning it she nods to herself. “Monoma’s medical records state he’s a dominant omega, so it’s not unusual for his heat to be on the stronger side, but this is definitely too much to be a regular heat. I’m sure it was caused by a fated mate meeting.”
“I believe you,” Vlad King says, though his eyes are still full of shock. “I’ve just never seen anyone in so much pain because of a heat before.”
“I’ll admit at first I was a little surprised too, despite seeing a couple of fated mates cases in my career so far. It's been a long while since I've seen one much less dealt with it.”
“You've worked on fated mate cases before? I thought they were very rare.”
“They are, but I’ve been around.” She smiles but nothing except the shape of her lips changes. The wrinkled lines around her eyes and mouth stay very much the same. “When you get to my age there won’t be many things you haven’t seen yet.” She takes one final look at Monoma’s chart and then puts it back on her desk. “The only thing that doesn’t make sense is that no alpha around him went into a rut. Everyone in the arena seems to be fine from what I can see on the live broadcast.”
“What if his fated mate is a beta? They can’t go into ruts so how would we know they’re fated to each other?”
“It’s true that betas can’t go into ruts but a fated meeting would still make them go feral more than usual. They wouldn’t be able to control their behavior. Trust me it would be obvious.”
“Then how come you’re so sure that’s what caused Monoma’s heat? Maybe his cycle is just acting up?”
“Monoma’s files show no previous issues. His records are as clean as a teardrop. He got his first one last year, so we know this isn’t a case of a first heat being abnormally strong. I might not have a ton of experience with fated mates, but all signs indicate this heat was caused by a fated mate meeting. This is the only explanation that makes sense.”
“If you say so.” Vlad King stands up and goes to the door. “The Sports Festival isn’t over yet, so I still have a job to do. Please take care of him until I get back.”
“Don’t you worry about a thing. I’ll keep a close eye on him until he’s ready to be discharged.”
“Thank you.” He opens the door and bows his head before leaving. “See you later.”
Monoma never imagined he would feel this way but after the disaster that was the Sports Festival, he’s grateful for the upcoming exam week. It gives him something to focus on. An excuse not to think about the fact he has a fated mate and that they’re here at U.A.
If a heat of that magnitude is what happens when they get close to each other then Monoma wants to stay away from them as far as possible. In fact, he hopes they never meet again. Fated or not, Monoma wants nothing to do with bonding or pairs. Having a mate is the last thing on his mind. He doesn’t need one, and he certainly doesn’t want one either.
He spent two days locked in a room and dying from his heat like some detained animal. It’s undoubtedly the most painful heat he’s ever had, yet the worst thing wasn’t even the pain. No, the worst part of this crap show of a situation is that not that many people were around him when he got it. If what Recovery Girl said is true then his fated mate must be someone who was also in the arena at the time. Apart from a couple of General Studies and Support Course students, everyone who participated in the cavalry battle was a Hero Course student. Statistically, that must mean Monoma’s fated mate is someone from the Hero Course. The numbers don’t lie and they’re certainly not in his favor. To think there is a good chance Monoma’s fated mate is in class 1A… He feels sick just thinking about it. He doesn’t want to know who his fated mate is as much as he doesn’t want to have one in the first place.
It’s crazy, but he’s beyond thankful the exams are difficult. He has no time and no brainpower to do anything else but study. This results in exams going without a hitch. For the first time in his life, Monoma gets top scores in every subject. When he calls his mom to tell her the good news, she’s thrilled, and he feels no need to mention anything about the fated mate he could potentially run into at any time.
And why would he? Three weeks flew by without an incident, and Monoma is nearly one hundred percent certain the whole fated mates' thing was just a blip in the universe’s mysterious system. As far as he’s concerned the entire thing never even happened. It's just some bizarre hallucination his mind conjured up to explain why his dear class suffered a loss at the Sports Festival against those snotty brats from 1A.
It’s completely fine though because a chance to avenge his class and their collective dignity is on the horizon. This very morning Vlad King informs class 1B that a School Festival is right around the corner, and Monoma would rather perish than squander this opportunity.
“Come on, guys,” the class representative Kendo urges. “We need ideas. Vlad King said he’ll make us do a cleaning service booth if we don’t agree on something by the end of the day.”
Tsuburaba sticks out his tongue. “Ugh, no. I hate cleaning.”
“Come on then. Suggest something else.” Kendo presses a piece of chalk against the blackboard, ready to write whatever genius ideas her classmates throw at her.
“How much time do we have until the festival?” Pony asks.
“Two weeks.”
“So not much.” Pony hums. “Let’s pick something easy, so we have enough time to prepare.”
“No!” Monoma slams his palms on his desk. “No easy. No simple.” He shoots out of his seat and joins Kendo in front of the blackboard. “We need something brilliant!” He opens his arms, announcing grandly. “That wretched class 1A will pay for taking the top four spots at the Sports Festival. We won’t let them win again!”
Kendo hits the back of his head, quick as a whip, and knocks him straight into the empty teacher’s desk in front of them. “Hey!” Monoma shoots her an offended look, which she pointedly ignores. “I said we need ideas, not delusional plans of revenge for something so petty. We’ll win the Sports Festival next year.” She shows an encouraging grin to the rest of her classmates. “Right, guys?”
“Yeah!” Tetsutetsu pipes up. “That’s our class rep! Way to go!”
Kendo enlarges her hand and picks up Monoma by the collar of his shirt, disposing of him by returning him to his seat. She takes the chalk again and taps it against the blackboard, commanding attention back to herself. “Okay, people, use your noggins now. We need something good.”
“How about a haunted house?” Yanagi suggests.
“No can do. Class 1C from the general studies is already doing that,” Kendo says. “Please, everyone, check the news board on U.A.’s website. All the classes that have already chosen a project are posted there along with what event they’re going to be hosting.”
“Is class 1A on there?” Monoma asks immediately. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to spy on them.”
“1A is doing a concert. They’ll have a live band and dancers.”
“Dammit!” Monoma slams his fist into his hand. “That’s good.”
Tetsutetsu bounces in his seat. "I know! Let's do a kissing booth!"
“Employing the charms of our beautiful classmates to ensure our win at the School Festival?” Monoma smirks. “Tetsutetsu, you’re not witless after all.”
“You like it? You like it?” Tetsutetsu asks excitedly.
“I can’t say I’m against a little fanservice if it’ll help us beat those stuck-up 1A brats,” Monoma says, pleased. “And we have so many pretty girls in our class that can work at the booth. We’ll surely win. Kendo, write it down.”
“No! I ain’t kissing nobody!” Pony speaks English in her distress.
Monoma scowls. “Calm down. You’ll get paid."
"I don't care about the money!" She reverts to Japanese but is still equally upset.
Monoma shakes his head, the small smile playing on his lips rudely dismissive as if Pony doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “It's not about the money. We’ll win-”
“I don’t care!” She crosses her arms and huffs. “If you think it’s such a good idea then you do it!”
Monoma’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me? Who in their right mind would pay to kiss me? Don’t be ridiculous, Pony.” He waves his hand at Kendo. “Don’t listen to her. Just write it down.”
“Kendo, don’t!”
“We’re gonna vote on it anyway,” Monoma says. “If the rest of the class likes the idea then you can sit this one out.”
“What about a cafe?” Komori says out of nowhere. The rest of the class is glad someone chimed in as it made Monoma and Pony finally stop talking. “The staff can wear maid dresses. Isn’t that enough fanservice to ensure us a win? I’m sure the customers will love it!”
Monoma strokes his chin in consideration. “Your idea certainly has merit to it.”
“One of the support classes is already doing a cafe.” Kendo looks down at the printed-out list of the news board in her hand. “Though it’s not a maid cafe. It’s a traditional Japanese style one.”
“We can do a French version then,” Monoma says.
“French?” Kendo frowns. “I don’t know anything about French food though.” She looks ahead at her class. “You, guys?” Everyone shakes their heads no.
Monoma checks his nails in a mock show of disinterest. “Not to brag but I know a thing or two about French cuisine. Macarons, croissants, you name it. I make a mean crème brûlée, too.”
“So what, we’re doing a French maid cafe then?” Kendo asks.
“Why not?” Monoma shrugs. “I can teach you guys how to make all the pastries and desserts. It won’t be easy but two weeks is enough and this way nobody has to kiss anyone.”
“It’s definitely better than the kissing booth idea…” Pony concedes.
“I want to learn how to make cute macarons!” Komori says. “I’m in!”
“And I don’t mind wearing a maid costume!” Tetsutetsu beams.
Monoma cringes. “No, Tetsutetsu… Just no. Nobody wants to see that. Let the girls handle waiting tables and you can help me in the back with the baking.” Tetsutetsu looks disappointed but he agrees nonetheless. His steel quirk is good with high temperatures, so it would be a waste not to put it to good use.
“Alright, it’s settled then,” Kendo says. “We’re doing a French Maid cafe!” The class whoops in excitement, and Monoma’s chest swells with pride. They’re sure to draw lots of attention with this unique idea. The votes they need to win first place will be theirs!
Monoma should’ve kept his mouth shut. He should’ve never mentioned fanservice or said anything else for that matter. Because of his big stupid mouth, he’s now in a maid costume and serving pastries to alphas and betas that ogle him like he’s a piece of meat.
He’s been waiting tables all day. He wants to go in the back and help with the baking, but his help gets refused each time he asks. “You’re more needed elsewhere. Go help the other omegas wait tables,” his classmates tell him. Teaching them how to bake was a mistake. Now that they don’t have to rely on him anymore, he’s stuck waiting tables until the end of the festival.
He’s exhausted and his arms feel like they’re going to fall off at any moment, but he pushes through and smiles brightly at every customer. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so polite in his entire life as he’s been today. He releases his sweet peach-scented pheromones in small doses and serves every customer like royalty, hoping they’ll vote for 1B’s booth.
1B deserves to win goddammit! And Monoma refuses to do anything that would jeopardize their well-deserved victory. For the love of God baguettes, even the decor in the cafe is on point! Each table has a small replica of the Eiffel Tower to act as a paperweight for the menus. All the furniture is metal; perfect for the outdoors. And the print on the chair cushions screams Paris with all its tiny black cats wearing berets and cursive letters spelling Bonjour over and over again. One would think if they turn around they’ll see the actual Eiffel Tower from how utterly French this place is, and Monoma couldn’t be more satisfied.
A new group of customers walks in, and they look undoubtedly out of place in 1B’s Paris-esque utopia. All of them are wearing spooky Halloween costumes. They must be from that general course class that is running a haunted house attraction. Monoma has yet to check it out, but he’d like to do so before the day is over. If not for himself then for Yanagi and Tetsutetsu whom he promised he’d go with.
“Welcome!” Komori beams at the positively spooky group of boys. Monoma elbows her, reminding her to release some pheromones. Komori might be a regular omega, but she can still release a small dose of her scent to entice the customers. There’s nothing in U.A.’s rules and regulations about that kind of thing being prohibited, so it must not be cheating.
Komori shoots him a small glare from beneath her long bangs, and Monoma pretends not to notice. He smiles brightly and gestures at an empty table. “Please, feel free to sit.” These guys are lucky that they don’t have to wait in line anymore. The cafe is a total hit and all the tables are constantly occupied.
They sit down, and Komori and Monoma go to take orders from other customers, giving them some time to look through the menu. When Monoma circles back to them he releases a hint more of his peachy scent and smiles politely. “Are you ready to order?”
One of the customers snorts. “So, the word on the street is true. This place really is every alpha’s wet dream.” The guy is a beta. Monoma can tell by his medium build and hardly existing scent.
“You guys really didn’t hold back on the fanservice,” His alpha friend says. He takes a peek at Monoma's legs and his not-so-modest maid dress. “Went all out, didn’t you?”
Monoma’s insides turn with disgust, but he pushes the feeling down and plasters a proud face instead. “Yeah, well, anything to win first place. No more holding back like we did at the Sports Festival.”
“Anything to win, you say?” The alpha gives Monoma elevator eyes, raking his gaze up and down his body. He smirks, entirely too pleased with himself. The implications of the way he looks at Monoma are enough to make him want to knock the alpha's lights out. “How about you give us a little twirl then? I promise I won’t peek.” He smiles as if that’s supposed to be charming somehow.
“I’m afraid we don’t offer that kind of service here.” Monoma leans down to get in his face. “And even if we did I bet you wouldn’t be able to afford it.” He snatches the menu from the alpha’s hand and straightens up. “Now either order, or I’ll have Tetsutetsu come out of the kitchen and kick you out.”
The alpha chuckles. “Okay, okay.” He shakes his head with a dopey smile on his face. “Damn, you’re a feisty one. I only asked because you smell so good. You should take it as a compliment.”
Monoma arches a brow, full of judgment. “Is that so? Then maybe you should go to that scent-sniffing booth those raunchy third-years are doing instead of making a fool of yourself here.”
The beta and another guy sitting next to him laugh. Even with the killer senses of a dominant omega, Monoma can’t sniff the third guy out. He has wild purple hair, and he’s quite well built but his lack of a prominent scent makes Monoma undecided on his secondary gender. Alpha...or beta? He can't tell.
The alpha shoots a glare at his two buddies, and the beta immediately stops laughing. “Lay off him,” The purple-haired one says. “You’re embarrassing us.” He gives Monoma an apologetic look and much to Monoma’s chagrin it seems sincere. “Sorry about him. Please feel free to ignore him. We’d like to order now.”
Monoma takes out his waiter pad and a pen. Each of the guys gets a pastry and a drink to go with it. He notes everything down, and the surprisingly polite purple-haired guy extends an arm to hand Monoma another menu off the table. “Here,” he says.
Monoma leans over and takes it, his fingertips accidentally brushing against the purple-haired guy’s hand. He says his thanks, spins around and goes to the main counter where Kendo is working at the register. “Hey, I need you to give this order to Tetsutetsu.” He rips off the piece of paper from his pad and hands it to Kendo with a deep sigh.
She takes it but doesn’t glance at it or go to the back where Tetsutetsu is. She eyes Monoma cautiously. “You good? Those guys giving you a hard time?”
He waves his hand like it’s no big deal. “It’s fine, I dealt with them. We don’t need to throw them out." He leans on the counter with one arm, turns his head, and stares at the troublesome group. "They won’t do or say anything else. Trust me.”
“What did they say to you? I was gonna call Tetsutetsu but then they laughed and the vibe seemed to go back to normal.” She puts her hand on top of Monoma’s. It’s clammy and hot, but she doesn’t say anything. Monoma’s been waiting tables all day. It’s just his hard work showing. “Are you sure we don’t need to kick them out?”
Monoma nods, resolute. “Yeah, it’s fine.” The next second a full-body tremor shakes him. He hopes Kendo will think he’s trembling out of pure rage. His throat constricts and his body goes hot all over. It doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t even like that alpha. His body reacting to that scumbag is not only insulting but a biological betrayal.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Kendo’s eyes crinkle in concern.
Monoma swallows the saliva building up rapidly in his mouth and tries his hardest to suppress the feverishness raking through him. “I’m fine,” he says, voice tight and strained.
“You don’t look fine.”
“I know.” He turns his gaze back to Kendo and smiles. “I look amazing as always. Fine is too small a compliment for me.” He could swear that there’s a bucket full of bricks on his chest, crushing his lungs. He’s not sure how he’s able to breathe much less speak, but he pushes through it like he does with everything else. “Don’t worry, I’m completely fine. I just feel a little funny is all.”
“Uhuh.” Kendo nods, unconvinced. “Then what is that smell coming from you?” She covers her nose and mouth with both hands. “I took suppressants this morning because I knew I’d be working closely with the omegas in our class, but I can still smell your pheromones going wild.” She leans away from the counter. “I know you told the omegas to use their pheromones but this is too much. Reel them in. I can’t breathe next to you.”
“I-I’m trying-” He sucks in a sharp breath to cover up his state.
“Well, try harder ‘cause it’s not working.”
“I-I would if I could-” A low whine comes out of his throat. His body is so feverish and weak that he can’t control himself anymore.
“What do you mean if you could??” Slick comes out of Monoma’s behind involuntarily, and Kendo takes an unsteady backward step to get away from its scent. “A-aren’t you a dominant omega? Can’t you control your pheromones at will and all that?”
Monoma slumps against the counter, his legs unable to hold his weight anymore. “Usually I can.” He whines pathetically. “I-I don’t know why it isn’t working.” His voice takes on that frail quality that makes it obvious he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. He hides his face in his limp arms resting on the counter but when another whine comes out of his throat his head shoots up in panic. “K-Kendo, I’m scared. I can’t hold it in anymore.” A bout of pheromones oozes out of him uncontrollably. Several alphas and betas stand up from their seats, metal chairs scraping against the polished floor. Even the omegas perk up at the scent.
Kendo dashes out from behind the counter and waves her arms frantically. “Out! Everybody, out!” More than a dozen people startle and run out of the cafe, knocking tables and chairs in their panic.
Monoma doesn’t have the strength to hold himself up anymore even with the help of the counter. He falls to the floor and cries out in pain. Pheromones rush out of him and envelope the cafe like a frantic cyclone of peaches and cream.
“What the hell is going on?” The beta from before asks. He and his buddies are stupid enough to come closer even when a dozen of people have run away in panic.
The alpha’s nose twitches. “It’s that omega! That’s his scent!” He gets closer to Monoma’s slumped form and unconsciously licks his lips at the smell of his creamy slick and peachy scent.
“No!” Kendo slams into the alpha and shoves him away. “Stay away from him!” She enlarges her hands and pushes him and the beta clinging to him toward the exit until they’re outside. The alpha rushes into her, trying to get back inside, but she shoves him again and knocks him to the ground. “Go! Call for help and don’t come back!”
The scent of juicy peaches and sweet whipped cream reaches the outside, making the beta’s pupils shake with fear. He grabs the alpha’s arm and tugs him away. “We’ll send Recovery Girl here right away!” He runs away and dares not to stop.
Kendo wants to breathe out in relief, but she can’t. She gets away from the cafe as far as she can before her body gives out, and she falls to the ground from exertion. Monoma is still in there. Still suffering. But as an alpha, she did what she could for him. Going back is too dangerous even for someone with an iron willpower like hers.
With his forehead pressed against the cool tiles and clutching his stomach, Monoma screams out in agony and then sobs. He can’t stop crying. He can’t stop shouting. And worst of all, he can’t stop being in pain.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay.” The voice is unfamiliar and hushed. The owner of the voice kneels next to Monoma and puts a hand on his hunched-over back. He doesn’t rub or pet it, but it's there, solid and real. Grounding like an anchor. More reassuring than it has any right to be. “You’ll be alright. Just hold on a little more.”
Monoma can’t believe those words. It’d be crazy to trust such a statement when he’s in such agony that it seems it'll never end. But the thing is… He does believe. He trusts this stranger. His voice is so kind and sure that Monoma can’t help but trust everything he says.
Compelled to look up, Monoma lifts his head. The polite purple-haired guy from before enters his vision, and Monoma trembles as more slick coats his underwear.
“I’m Shinsou Hitoshi. What’s your name?”
Monoma opens his mouth certain nothing will come out, but he manages to say, “M-Monoma Neito.” He cramps up right after he says it and groans from the sharp stabbing sensation in his stomach.
“I’m going to call Aizawa sensei. He’ll help you so don’t worry, okay?” Shinsou pulls out his phone from his pocket and dials Aizawa. He talks quietly but seriously, without any panic in his voice. Monoma feels safe for an odd moment, but then his pheromones go wild again and disperse all around them. It's suffocating even to Monoma himself. An all-consuming need to be pounded into overtakes his mind and more slick leaks out and slides down his thighs, coating them.
Shinsou finishes the call and pockets his phone. “Look– Monoma, I don’t want to leave you here to deal with this alone, but I’m afraid I can’t take it anymore.” He takes a moment to look at Monoma with sympathy. Or maybe pity. But also to make sure Monoma understands that he is leaving for the omega's good. “I’m sorry but I really have to go now, or I’ll do something that I’ll regret.” Shinsou’s eyes soften and then he pulls his shirt over his nose and stands up.
Monoma whimpers. He feels pathetic and weak. From his pitiful puddle-like form on the floor, he watches Shinsou glance back at him multiple times before he leaves the cafe. When Shinsou finally steps out and the glass door closes behind him it breaks something in Monoma as much as it relieves him.
Thankfully, he doesn’t have to drown in that odd mix of disappointment and relief for long as Recovery Girl and Aizawa rush to his side a few moments later. Aizawa holds him down as Recovery Girl sticks a syringe into the scent gland on his nape and shoots him up with a cocktail of heavy-duty suppressants and sedatives. He passes out and everything, including his burning need and pain, fades to black.