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Sae doesn’t care about a lot of things. He doesn’t mind when people are talking behind his back about how rude and unfiltered he is. He doesn’t care that people call him an asshole, a blunt cunt, or a self-centered whore just because he has a successful career and a good income. Sae also doesn’t care that people— family and acquaintances— call him crazy for mating with an alpha as wild and ruthless as Ryusei. They call their bond a mistake, call the life they’ve built for themselves fake and wasted.
But whatever. The omega lets them talk. He has better things to do than listen to what strangers have to say about him, has better things to do than to value the opinions of people who know nothing about him or his alpha.
However, there’s one thing Sae can’t seem to shake off, something the omega can’t forget, no matter how many times he’s tried already so far. And that something is the other parents calling him a bad mother.
As much as Sae wants to spare them no mind, glare at them nastily the next time he sees them, there’s a small voice at the back of his mind asking him what if. What if he was a bad mother? What if he only thinks he’s trying his best but his daughter is actually suffering under him? What if Sae is just like his own mother? Blind to the worries of his child, only seeing what he wants to see?
Sae isn’t used to spiraling, but once the doubt plants its roots, it keeps gnawing at him, eating him alive more and more every day. He tells himself that he used to take care of Rin, that he has experience in taking care of someone weaker and more fragile than him, and therefore shouldn’t, couldn’t, be failing as a parent.
Though, when the omega starts to pay attention every time he drops off and picks up his daughter from elementary school, he experiences it first hand, too. The nasty glares from the other mothers, the gloating whispers, and condescending snickers that follow. Sae hears them talk in hushed voices— How come we never see an alpha with him? Is he a single mother? Look, his daughter doesn’t even look like him. That wouldn’t surprise me, I’ve heard he snarled at someone the other day. Who would want an omega like that? Also did you see how his daughter always comes back with new bruises and bandages every time? With those eyes…no wonder he lacks empathy. —and the more he hears, the more he feels the bile rising to his throat.
These people couldn’t be further away from the truth. They could just ask and Sae (with his bored expression) would tell them that yes, this is his daughter, he just couldn’t control biology that made her a carbon copy of Ryusei. That no, he’s not a single mother, but his alpha is already at soccer practice while he gets to make an exception of running late to drop off their daughter because today’s society is still impacted by the patriarchy and full of shit, so only the omega gets a free pass like this.
Yes, he snarled at a wannabe alpha trying to hit him up with nasty looks and awful flirting while his daughter was standing right next to him, picking up at least three new curse words along the way.
And yes, Mei is a bundle of joy, always eager to go on new adventures, and seemingly never running out of energy. She runs around for hours, sneaks into the nearby forest and trips, and, of course, she would need to get her new bruises and cuts patched up by Sae after a scolding.
And—and— the omega gets more and more frustrated, the more he tries to justify himself in his thoughts. Sae doesn’t know why he does it, why the opinions of these arrogant people suddenly matter to him on that topic. Why he suddenly tries explaining himself as if he’s actually done something wrong. As if he actually believes what they’re saying.
Sae wants to scoff at that thought but something stops him. The omega knows he’s not the perfect mother, such a thing doesn’t even exist on an objective perspective. But he’s never bothered to try either. Sae has always just interacted with his daughter like he thinks is right. How it feels natural to him. Yes, he doesn’t grin from ear to ear like Ryusei does, doesn’t crack lots of jokes, or play airplane with her like the alpha does.
That doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his daughter to death. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t spoil her or doesn’t try to make her smile instead. It doesn’t mean he’s an apathetic asshole to his own child just because some bitter people don’t like how he looks.
“Sae-chan,” Ryusei’s voice suddenly sounds from the doorway, making him jump. He completely forgot that his alpha was home. “You alright? You’ve been staring at my shirt as if it personally offended you,” the alpha teases and usually, Sae would roll his eyes and bark back a remark. This time, however, he swallows it down and says nothing instead.
He doesn’t notice how Ryusei’s eyebrows furrow at that, and doesn’t see his alpha strutting over to where he’s sitting on their bed, doing laundry, until a pair of strong arms wrap around him from behind. “Sweet cheeks?” Ryusei asks in a gentle voice and Sae’s heart skips a beat at that. “What’s wrong?” The alpha nuzzles his neck softly, pressing a kiss against Sae’s mating mark. “Your scent is all sour,” he comments and really, that’s definitely not going to make him feel better about simply not being enough. “Pumpkin, you can talk to me. Come on,”
“I—” Sae starts but stops himself. He sighs heavily through his nose and lets himself fall back against Ryusei’s firm chest. Staring up at the ceiling, he hates how vulnerable he feels all of a sudden. The omega has never been the best at expressing and showing his emotions— is this what makes him a bad mother, too?— and has never been the best at explaining his feelings either.
He hates talking about himself in general. He doesn’t like talking about his problems, about his worries. It’s just not something Sae does because Sae normally just sucks it up until he breaks, bottles everything up until he loses himself in his own thoughts. He’s not someone who trusts easily, isn’t someone who opens up willingly. Sae wonders, does my daughter hate me for that? The omega has spent years on building up walls and perfecting them.
But when he inhales deeply, letting the comforting alpha pheromones of Ryusei fill his nostrils, he remembers that he’s not like this with everyone anymore. His alpha is someone Sae trusts blindly, someone who could have Sae’s entire heart if he asked. Ryusei is different— with him, everything feels less dull, less lifeless. With him, Sae’s world regained its colors, and with him, Sae is allowed to be a bit more like his true self.
His alpha makes him feel at home, lets him know what it means being alive again.
So when Ryusei presses another soft kiss against Sae’s neck, it almost becomes unbearable to keep his thoughts only to himself. “Am I a good mother?” he blurts out and Ryusei freezes up against him. Almost instantly, Sae regrets having asked— what partner would want to hear such a question anyway? Gods, the omega is so stupid sometimes.
“Ah, forget what I was saying—”
“Sae,” Ryusei says and now it’s Sae’s turn to halt in his movements. His breath hitches and so many thoughts are racing through his head, his mind almost blankens. His alpha never calls him by his given name. Usually, Ryusei would call him by a silly nickname (that Sae definitely does not like) or just by a playful ‘Sae-chan’. But now, his voice sounded different. So serious, Sae almost feels cold. “Who’s been saying that to you?”
“No one,” is Sae’s dry reply to it.
“Bullshit,” Ryusei shoots back and then makes Sae turn around, forcing him to face him. “The Sae I know has never bothered to question if he’s a good mother or not.” The alpha takes both of his cheeks into his hands. “Because he’s always giving it his best every day, always trying to reach perfection, anyway.” Sae bites his lip at those words. “He is his own person and doesn’t need any confirmations from strangers,”
His alpha is not wrong. Before he’s overheard the whisper and talking behind his back, he’s never thought about if he’s a good mother or not. Sure, there are always things you question, things you aren’t quite sure about. Things that scare you. However, you worry about the little things then, not about your entire persona.
But maybe that’s exactly why he may have missed it. Maybe he was so far stuck in his own ass once again that he failed to notice the signs. Maybe he was so busy with himself and his soccer career that he didn’t notice how his daughter started slipping through his hands. No other girl at school looks as beat up as her, no other girl starts picking fights with the boys because they looked at her wrong.
His girl has a good heart and Sae always values when someone defends themselves— is it wrong not to punish her when she merely stood up for herself? Of course, Sae scolds her. Mei just can’t throw her bento box at other children’s heads, but after a mumbled Sorry, everything is forgotten. Sae doesn’t dwell on these things and Ryusei doesn’t either.
“Hey,” his alpha pulls him out of his thoughts once more. “It doesn’t matter what other people say,” Ryusei stares deep into his eyes. “Mei is happy, she loves you. You’re a great mother, Sae,”
“But—”
“No buts!” Ryusei declares loudly and interrupts Sae with a kiss. “You’re not allowed to talk bad about yourself,” his alpha tells him and the omega feels his cheeks warmen. “Not when you carried our daughter for nine months in your womb, and not when you gave birth to the most beautiful, most amazing child there is in the entire world,” Ryusei starts. “I bet none of these stupid fuckers who call themselves ‘good’ parents still read their kids goodnight stories or sing a lullaby for them. I bet none of them turn the entire house upside down because their kid lost their favorite stuffed animal, and I bet none of them take their kid’s opinions as seriously as you take Mei’s,”
“Ryusei, I—”
“Nu-uh, I’m not finished yet,” the alpha interrupts him again, but this time, Sae feels a bit better about it. There’s even a small smile trying to creep on his face. Ryusei pecks his lips and finally lets go of his cheek before placing his hands on Sae’s shoulders, pulling the omega even closer to him. “I don’t know any mother who goes out to play with their child in the pouring rain just to play mermaids and fairies, I don’t know anyone else, besides me of course,” Sae huffs out a small laugh, “who stays up all night trying to bake the excessive, overly complicated birthday cake their child wished for.”
Sae swallows dryly when Ryusei wouldn’t stop talking, just continuing to list the things that, apparently, make Sae a good mother after all.
“You treat our daughter with so much respect. In your eyes, she’s not just a stupid kid who babbles nonsense most of the time, but someone worth taking seriously, too. You listen to what she has to say and then correct her if necessary. Or you change your view on things and let her know that, sometimes, she’s being reasonable, too,” Ryusei goes on and for the first time in a long while, Sae feels the urge to cry again. Because his alpha is talking about all his good traits, but then why does it still feel wrong? Why do the whispers and side-eyes from people he doesn’t know hurt so much?
“You teach her how to be respectful, not to jump to conclusions or to make prejudices. Sae-chan,” Ryusei pulls him into a hug. Maybe because the first tear was finally rolling down his cheek, or maybe just because his alpha felt like this is what his mate needs the most right now. “You may be a little strict sometimes,” Ryusei begins once more, but in a quieter voice this time, “but just as loving. You would go through hell and back for Mei, you would defend her with your own life. You would fight against the whole world if it meant protecting her,”
Sae buries his head in his alpha’s chest, shoulders trembling slightly as he tries his hardest not to sob out loud. He loves his daughter so much it hurts sometimes, loves her so dearly that yes, of course he hates seeing her hurt. He hates it when she comes home crying because she scraped her knee again, or because someone called her weird again. Sae loves his daughter to the sun and back— loves her happy smile, her wide, toothy grin. He loves the way she twirls around when she’s showing off her new dress, loves the way she clings to him, demanding him to play with her.
He loves it when she sneaks into Ryusei and his bedroom at night, gently poking him until he wakes up to ask if she could sleep with them that night. He loves it when she tells him about her day, celebrating with her every time she says she’s made a new friend, and loves it when she tells stories about her very real, and definitely not imaginary companions.
“Why are you suddenly doubting yourself, munchkin?” Ryusei asks, tone soft, and Sae shakes his head.
He finally breaks their hug, wipes at his face to erase any evidence. Itoshi Sae doesn’t cry, especially not because of other people’s opinions. “You’re so stubborn,” Ryusei tells him and he shrugs. “You know, it’s okay to feel anxious sometimes. Or weird. Or vulnerable. Or depressed. Or all of those things together,” his alpha says. He throws Sae a smile. “You’re not a robot, sweet cheeks, you’re allowed to question yourself. Even if it’s totally uncalled for because you’re perfect and not allowed to doubt yourself,”
Sae rolls his eyes at that last part. “You’re contradicting yourself,” he huffs but smiles a bit nonetheless. He knows what Ryusei is trying to tell him, what he’s trying to portray here. His alpha is always trying to cheer him up, always trying to make him feel better no matter how awful the situation may seem. Ryusei is his safe space and haven, his rock in the surf, always there when the omega needs him the most. Even if Sae is too stubborn to admit that out loud most of the time.
“Babycakes,” Ryusei says and there he goes again with his stupidly endearing nicknames. “You’re not alone in this either,” his alpha reminds him and takes Sae’s delicate hands into his bigger ones, gently stroking the backside of them with his thumbs. “I’m here for you. With you. Should we fail, we do it together, remember? Always.”
Ryusei grins at him and Sae hates how he flushes at that. Hates how his alpha makes his stupid heart beat faster, how he makes his blood rush through his veins, and how he makes his mind spin with his attractively sharp canines and fine, earthy alpha scent.
“And besides,” Ryusei then adds. “Our princess may be full of energy—”
“That’s on you. Your genes, your responsibility,”
“—and a bit hard to control sometimes,” Ryusei smiles sheepishly as if he already knew Sae would tell him that this was his fault as well. “But she’s our baby. Our whirl wind and lightning bolt.” Sae laughs carefree at that, a pleasurable warmth spreading through his body, letting his bones melt under Ryusei’s touch. “She’s our treasure, our greatest explosion so far,”
“You should start writing that down, maybe become a poet, Shakespeare,”
“Sae-chan,” Ryusei giggles and Sae smiles with a huff. “She’s everything to us and you’re so hardworking to be a responsible and caring mother, okay?” Then, his alpha suddenly takes out his phone. “I can show you,” he begins. “I got pictures of the day you delivered,” Sae flushes in a light shade of red, “pictures where you breastfed her for the first time. Oh, look! Pictures where you fell asleep on the couch with her on your chest!”
Ryusei turns the phone around, showing Sae the evidence. The omega looks at himself in the picture and blinks at the person he sees. Despite sleeping, he looks content and happy. Mei’s squishy cheek is pressed against his chest, a wet spot of drool right underneath her. He smiles fondly.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Sae whispers but Ryusei shakes his head.
“You remember how you threatened to kill me when I started having doubts about being a good dad?” his alpha laughs at the memory. “You sounded so mad but your words were so reassuring, it felt like you were angry because I didn’t believe in myself enough. It’s nice, you know?” Ryusei leans in to kiss him once more. “Even if you don’t ever admit it out loud, you care about the people you love dearly. And you never want to see them sad or down— that’s also the mother in you speaking,” his alpha grins. “See! You’ve always got the stuff to be a mother!”
“Shut up,” Sae hisses and playfully slaps Ryusei’s arm away. The words make him feel a bit better, a bit lighter. There’s still dozens of thoughts running through his mind, still making his head hammer every time he thinks about them too hard. Sae has so many issues and he’s scared that one day, the people around him will wake up and all turn their back on him. He’s working on it, but sometimes there are days where everything just gets too much and everything he is becomes too little.
And listening to Ryusei’s gentle and encouraging voice, to the things his alpha tells him, to the things he means because Ryusei would never lie to him about things like these, it makes him feel as if he was, indeed, a good mother, after all.
He just hopes Mei thinks the same.
When Sae goes to pick up his daughter from elementary school later that day, he sees her head perking up the moment he steps out of the car.
“Mama!” the high-pitched and excited voice of her sounds through the air, drowning out the lively chatter of the other children in the schoolyard of the school.
His little bundle of joy is running towards him and Sae crouches down with a smile, ready to catch her once she launches herself into his arms. She buries her face in the crook of his neck and smiles giddily against his skin.
“I missed you!” she mumbles and squeezes her tiny arms tightly around him.
“I missed you, too,” he smiles and kisses Mei’s forehead lovingly. There’s still this aching feeling from earlier plaguing his mind, and the stares and mumbles around them don’t help with that either. But looking into his daughter’s shining eyes, how they’re looking up at him so eagerly, he can’t help but feel his heart melt at the sight.
His greatest weakness has always been her. Closely followed by Ryusei, of course. His own two personal, chaotic messes.
“Did you have fun today?” Sae asks and takes her small hand into his, leading them back to where he parked the car.
Mei nods eagerly and the omega sees her opening her mouth, but then she closes it again abruptly. They stop in their tracks when Mei suddenly drops her school bag, seemingly searching for something, and Sae gets the dreadful feeling of receiving another letter to the parents from one of her teachers.
However, when she suddenly hands him a drawing, his breath hitches. “I made this for you during art class today!” Mei declares proudly, holding out the picture for Sae to take. In it, he sees himself standing on a flower field with a cape and a bucket of…candy(?) in one of his hands. Ryusei and Mei are standing next to him, both equally tall for some reason.
“The topic was to draw our heroes!” his daughter tells him and oh, Sae didn’t expect that. Just like he didn’t expect to suddenly blink away the forming tears again. “And you’re the best mama out there!” Mei smiles so widely, it almost blinds Sae. “You’re my hero and my best friend!”
“Oh…” he replies, almost lamely, as he brings the drawing close to his heart, hugging it tightly.
“Mama, are you crying?” Mei gasps loudly and Sae sees a few heads turning in their direction. A warmth spread through his chest— not because he’s embarrassed of them, but out of shame for ever doubting his daughter’s ever growing love for her parents. “Are you okay?!”
“Yes, darling.” He wipes at his eyes quickly and crouches down, engulfing her in a tight hug once more. “Thank you, sweetie,” he whispers and then smiles at her. “I love this drawing! You did so well,” he sniffles again slightly but his daughter beams at him. “You made me happy,”
“I made mama happy!” she yells loudly for everyone to hear. Sae chuckles. “I made mama happy!” she keeps singing as she skips over to the car, patiently waiting for Sae with little hops and jumps to finally unlock the vehicle.
“Mama,” she giggles at him and Sae's heart clenches. It's almost as if she sensed him feeling down today and wants to cheer Sae up again. It's as if she knew even her ‘untouchable, cool’ mother needs some reassurance sometimes. Even when Mei tells him how much he means to her every day, being called a hero and being gifted a drawing where World’s Greatstest Mama is written in all caps, is something entirely else.
“Mama, I love you,” she giggles and kicks her little feet while Sae straps her into the children's seat. “Sooooo much,” she empathizes by spreading her arms apart as much as she can.
“I love you lots, too, my little trouble maker,”
“Mama,” Mei then starts again. “I got a letter from the principal for you!”
A beat of silence, then, “What?!”
Mei giggles mischievously as Sae almost pops a vein. Her laughter is so pure, so full of love, that even despite the news, Sae has a hard time getting mad at her for it. “You planned this,” he accuses her and she actually sticks out his tongue to him. “You little demon tricked me,”
“It worked, it worked,” she sing-songs. “I mean—! I don't know what you mean, Mama,”
Sae rolls his eyes and sighs as he falls back in the driver's seat. Mei hums behind him, seemingly unbothered by the situation.
As the omega watches his daughter in the mirror, his heart swells. For the first time in a long while, he doesn't care to see the shaking heads of the people who pass his car. He doesn't care about the looks, about the snarls they secretly send in his direction.
The drawing of his daughter pops up in his head, and Ryusei’s affirming words from earlier echo through his thoughts. The two people he cares about the most told him he's doing a good job. The two people who would never lie to him (at least, not on this matter), and the two people he trusts and loves the most told him he's a good mother.
And yeah, maybe, just maybe, Sae wants to try to believe it, too.