Chapter Text
Sakura hated the way people stared at him.
He could feel their eyes digging into his back whenever he walked past the school gates—half curious, half fearful, and always judgmental. His black-and-white hair, his mismatched eyes, the sharp line of his jaw that looked more like a delinquent’s warning than a boy’s face—all of it painted him as an outsider before he even opened his mouth. And Sakura was used to it. He wore his aloofness like armor, his silence like a shield, and when the stares grew too heavy, he sharpened his tongue and his fists.
It was easier to fight than to talk.
It was safer to bruise his knuckles than to expose the soft, trembling parts of himself that longed to be accepted.
That afternoon, the air smelled faintly of rain as Sakura leaned against the side of the gymnasium, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. The other boys gave him a wide berth. He liked it that way. Or at least, he told himself he did.
But then he arrived.
Chika Takiishi didn’t walk—he stormed into existence like a bonfire set loose in human form. His long crimson hair burned against the dull gray of the schoolyard, yellow roots glowing like embers. His jacket, his jewelry, his entire presence screamed for attention, and he got it effortlessly. Students whispered his name, but he didn’t spare them a glance. His gaze swept the crowd with the lazy arrogance of someone who knew he was untouchable.
And then his eyes—sharp, light brown with a strange glint—landed on Sakura.
Sakura’s chest tightened, though he immediately scowled to hide it.
“What are you staring at?” he snapped, voice harsher than he intended.
Chika tilted his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips. He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the distance in long, confident strides. He stopped so close that Sakura could smell the faint, metallic tang of perfume mixed with smoke on his clothes.
Sakura bristled, ready to throw a punch if necessary. But Chika only reached out and—without permission—tugged at Sakura’s collar, exposing the pale skin of his throat. The gesture was blunt, almost rude, yet there was something deliberate in it.
Sakura slapped his hand away, his face heating.
“Don’t touch me.”
But Chika only chuckled, a low, rough sound. “Hn. You smell… different.”
That single word—smell—made Sakura’s heart stutter. It was too close to the truth he was desperate to hide. He was an Omega, though he kept it buried under layers of bravado and fists. To be found out meant weakness. Vulnerability. Chains.
Before Sakura could reply, another presence slid into the scene—quieter, but no less overwhelming. Yamato Endo, tall and broad-shouldered, walked toward them with the casual ease of someone who belonged everywhere. His seafoam eyes softened when they landed on Chika, a flicker of reverence glinting in their depths. But when his gaze shifted to Sakura, that softness sharpened into something more dangerous.
“Haruka Sakura,” Endo said smoothly, tasting the name like it was a secret. “So you’re the one.”
Sakura’s stomach dropped. “The one what?”
Endo’s smile widened, too warm to be safe. “The one worth chasing.”
Chika clicked his tongue, as though Endo’s words were an annoyance. His hand—brusque, thoughtless—landed on Sakura’s shoulder, gripping it firmly. Not tender. Not gentle. But claiming in its own way.
Sakura froze, his body betraying him as a shiver ran down his spine. His instincts screamed, Omega instincts that clawed at the edges of his control. Two Alphas, both staring at him with unsettling intensity, their presence wrapping around him like heat and iron.
He wanted to fight.
He wanted to run.
And deep, deep inside, a part of him wanted to stay.
“You’ve got guts, standing here like you don’t care,” Chika muttered, voice rough. He didn’t release Sakura’s shoulder. Instead, he squeezed—an unspoken gesture that said more than words ever could.
Endo chuckled. “Careful, Chika. You’ll scare him off. And I’m not done watching yet.”
Sakura shoved them both back, his face burning. “I don’t belong to anyone! Not to you, not to him, not to anybody!”
His voice cracked on the last word, betraying him.
Chika smirked, leaning back but never breaking eye contact. “We’ll see.”
Endo’s eyes gleamed with something possessive, almost worshipful. “You can resist all you want, Sakura. That’s what makes you interesting.”
And just like that, Sakura realized his world was no longer simple.
Two blazing Alpha presences had marked him—not with teeth or scars yet, but with their eyes, their gestures, their impossible intensity.
His heart pounded, his body trembling between fear and something he didn’t dare name. He told himself he would fight them off. He told himself he would never bow, never bend.
But deep down, he already knew—
This was the beginning of something he couldn’t escape.