Chapter Text
The flower shop is quiet that day, almost as usual. Yuuji, on his way to the store, helps several elementary school children cross the busy streets of Tokyo.
The worry in his head is that maybe he didn't lock the door to his new apartment, and there's no time to go back. He's still not used to city life, and small things like forgetting his key in his apartment or crossing the street without looking. More than once, his life has passed him by—as many lives as a cat, as Fushiguro once said.
The soft bell announces his arrival at the store, and the floral scent quickly floods his senses in a satisfying way. Yuuji always takes a deep breath as he heads to the counter to leave his jacket and the coffees he's brought for breakfast with his father.
An iced Americano for Jin and a warm mocha latte for him—the combination of aromas is so homey to him that it's impossible not to relax. He finds his father behind the counter putting together small bouquets of peonies and petunias, decorating them with white paper and a perfect pastel pink bow. Yuuji always envied his father's ability to put together perfect bouquets, even though he tries too; he couldn't create one from scratch.
Music playing from speakers strategically placed throughout the store creates a calming work environment. Jin is watering some plants and arranging the light bulbs for flowers that need direct sunlight. The almost wintery atmosphere isn't helping some plants, and Jin has an excellent knack for taking care of them.
Yuuji is busy updating the administrative side of things and answering some weekend orders. He's bored as he clicks on his computer screen and hums the song playing on shuffle from his playlist.
The bell rings, and Yuuji looks up from his bored monitor in a friendly manner. A man too tall to be real passes through the door, and something inside Yuuji stirs, anxious, expectant, and above all, confused. His inner omega begins to wag his tail excitedly like a puppy waiting for a new toy.
After taking his first step into the store, the mysterious man removes his cap, revealing a short head of hair as white as snow. His light blue eyes are so intense and immersive that Yuuji can't tear his gaze away.
Jin, curious about his son's reaction to the customer, approaches with slow steps while wiping his hands with a small rag he leaves on the counter, snatching Yuuji from his reverie and almost frightening him awake. That man, his face covered by a white mask and almost his entire body dressed in black, a leather jacket and pants clinging to his mile-long legs, his strong scent demonstrates what an alpha he is, even that isn't necessary thanks to the commanding demeanor with which he moves naturally.
"Welcome. How may we help you?" Jin speaks calmly as he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose and gives his customer a smile. Yuuji, for his part, is slumped behind the counter, embarrassment oozing from every pore.
The white-haired man lowers his mask just enough to reveal a masculine face with well-defined features and surprisingly plump pink lips, almost contrasting with the pink of his nose from the cold. There's a soft smile and an unconscious act of nervousness scratching the back of his neck. "I'm looking for a bouquet to take to my boss's wife."
Jin's eyes widen in surprise and he can't help but chuckle as he nods, understanding his customer's request. He begins to walk away, signaling with his hand for the two of them to walk through the flower-filled aisles. Before doing so, he glances quickly at his son, who is now peering over the counter like a curious cat.
After several minutes, Jin and the customer return amid laughter from the pink-haired omega. "A formal floral bouquet for the charming gentlemen, please Yuuji." The older omega leaves a small note on the counter while the man, enchanted by the flowers he holds in his hands, quickly reaches for his wallet to pay the teenager.
Their eyes connect again after the bill is between them, and once again the world stops for both of them. Something is bothering them, and something is calling to each other from the back of their minds. They remain frozen for several seconds, holding their gazes until Yuuji, while analyzing the face of the man in front of him in detail, notices a small mark emerging from the opposite forehead on his left side. Almost immediately, his father has to move him from his seat to begin the payment process himself. The man hands over his card and has to clear his throat to recollect his thoughts.
The white-haired man says goodbye with a curt bow and leaves the store, disappearing into the chaotic streets of Tokyo. Yuuji is still stunned and quickly feels his father's hands on his face, moving it in all directions and analyzing it with a worried expression, running his thumb just below his left eye.
He's finally able to react and tries to move away from his father, confusion on his face.
"Let me go, Dad, what's wrong?" Yuuji touches his face as if it were completely deformed, fear reflected in his gaze, wondering if he had been unpresentable in front of the alpha who, with just a touch, had managed to shake the foundations of his mind.
"Your mark... it's the first time I've seen it." Jin speaks softly, almost as if the fear were tied to an ancestral memory. Her maternal instinct was still stirred by the previous presence of the alpha who had treated them so kindly. "Yuuji, you're not supposed to be old enough to manifest your mark yet, and its place is so strange..."
Yuuji hurriedly searches his back pocket until he finds his phone. He opens the camera, turns the lens toward him, and examines himself closely. He carefully touches the mark that shines just below his right eye: a barely pink crescent, like a fresh scar that doesn't hurt, but burns inside. He frowns, confused. His father, his brother, no one in the family had ever shown their marks at such a young age. Let alone in such an unusual shape.
The flower shop's bell rang with its high-pitched tinkling just as Yuuji was gathering the cut stems of a bouquet he didn't quite like. The bell swung in the upper doorframe, and Jin looked up from the register with a long, almost resigned sigh.
"You're late," he said, without raising his voice too much, as he continued organizing some seed packets at the register.
"And you keep counting every minute as if you were a human clock, how wonderful," Sukuna replied from the entrance, with the same cynical tone as always. He dusted off his jacket as if he'd just walked through a storm of petals, followed closely by Uraume, who entered soundlessly, like a shadow dressed in elegance. He greeted him with his usual nod and a low murmur.
Yuuji watched him walk through the door and, like an involuntary reflex, smiled. It was inevitable. Although Sukuna could be a constant nuisance, whenever he saw him, his chest filled with a contradictory warmth. Annoyance and affection mixed, like an old sweater that no longer keeps you warm but still comforts you.
"Uraume! Ryou! Counting your tattoos to see if any of them have disappeared?" Yuuji asked, coming out from behind the counter with a sly smile, and hugging them both with exaggerated theatrical sweetness.
"No one came to see you, brat. Move it," Sukuna retorted, pushing the omega away with the back of his hand and then holding him firmly by the jaw. He forced him to raise his head, examining his face with a questioning look. "Let's see, show me."
"What? The mark?" Yuuji pouted. His lips were crushed between his brother's fingers, and his voice sounded nasal, almost childish.
"No, your new hairstyle. Of course it's the mark, idiot!" Sukuna grunted, bringing his face closer with a seriousness that wasn't common for him. He studied the mark on the younger boy's cheek closely, that curved line, like a peach-colored crescent, bordered by golden sparkles that flickered in the evening light. He touched it briefly with his thumb, like someone testing the temperature of water before diving in.
Yuuji turned away in annoyance, but didn't move away. It was a custom between them: physical contact as a way of confirming realities. Sukuna didn't say anything for a few seconds. Uraume, behind him, subtly leaned over to look over his shoulder.
"Okay." he finally said, letting go with an exaggerated sigh. He took a step back and wrapped an arm around his partner's waist. "Confirmed. You're cursed by fate."
"Super encouraging, thanks." Yuuji shuffled to the counter and dramatically slumped down onto it. He banged his forehead against the surface, muttering unintelligible words.
Jin, who had watched them with a mixture of patience and concern, approached the counter and gently stroked his son's hair, seeking to soothe his sons' worries with his scent and touch.
Several miles away, in an elegant corner of the business district, a business dinner was unfolding with the usual tension of powerful circles.
Gojo Satoru, sitting at the brightest end of the table, kept his back straight and his face serene. His sunglasses rested on his head, and his eyes—now uncovered—surveyed everything with the precision of a hunter.
Although he smiled, he wasn't actively participating in the conversation. The alphas around him were discussing investments and strategies, but Gojo wasn't there on business. Not really.
One of the most influential men in the country, Satoru was also one of the most coveted alphas. But no one knew—except himself—that since that morning, a persistent itch had been running across his forehead.
In the shower, as he dried himself in front of the mirror. As he straightened his shirt before leaving. In the middle of small talk with another businessman. It was always there. Something invisible. Something wanting to manifest itself.
He knew what it was. He'd seen it before.
And though he'd never admit it, he dreaded the day that mark finally appeared. Because that would mean that fate—which he despised so much—had won again and taken him away from his true desire.
For now, Satoru poured himself a glass of red wine, ignoring the pressure on his skin.