Chapter Text
Chishiya Shuntaro had made plenty of mistakes in his short eighteen years of life, and a good portion of them were directly related to listening to one specific person: Kuina Hikari. Like that time when, after endless begging from his friend, he agreed to sneak into the teachers’ lounge to change her math grade — and a few others’ — while Kuina distracted three teachers at the door with the most ridiculous questions imaginable. It didn’t work, obviously. They caught Chishiya rummaging through the high school files, but the platinum-blond, being one of the smartest students in his year, managed to talk his way out of it without raising real suspicion.
Or when, during finals week, he had the terrible luck of having eight exams in a single day. The night before, he was studying with Kuina beside him and — in a decision he’d later regret — asked her for something to keep him awake.
“Energy drinks with suppressants, the ultimate solution to exhaustion!” she had said, sounding exactly like one of those unbearable TV commercials he hated.
Chishiya ended up throwing up in the middle of the advanced chemistry exam in front of the entire class.
But nothing — absolutely nothing — compared to the monumental mistake he was about to confess.
Since classes were already over, he, Usagi, Arisu, and of course Kuina decided to hang out for a bit at the café five minutes from high school. It was a cute outdoor place with a full-on rabbit theme — literally, even the spoons had little ceramic carrot handles.
"I like Niragi.”
The silence that followed was so thick that, instead of tasting the strawberry cheesecake in front of him, Chishiya tasted the heavy atmosphere and the unreadable faces of his friends. It was Friday afternoon, and he could still see students from their same high school walking down the street, chatting casually, completely unaware of the bomb that had just dropped inside the café. They were probably off doing normal teenage things. Things that didn’t involve confessing you had a crush on literally the worst possible person in the universe.
Kuina was the first to react. She dropped her carrot-handled spoon with a dramatic clang that made several people in the café turn to look. Her brown dreads swung as she whipped her head toward him, eyes wide as saucers.
“Wait, wait, wait—” he threw both hands up like he was stopping traffic. “Niragi? Niragi Suguru? The same Niragi who last semester made three juniors cry just for fun? That Niragi?”
“Yes, that Niragi,” Chishiya confirmed with the same enthusiasm someone uses to admit they have the flu.
Arisu, sitting across from them, choked on his mixed berry milkshake. Usagi had to pat his back while he coughed and flailed, trying and failing to form coherent words.
"Are you sick?" Arisu finally asked once he caught his breath. "Is this a bet? Are they threatening to kill you?"
“I’m not sick.”
“You sound sick,” Usagi cut in, studying him carefully with genuine concern. “Chishiya, Niragi is…”
“An asshole, an idiot, a bully, the most problematic alpha in the entire high school,” Kuina listed on her fingers. “The guy who literally uses his scent to intimidate people in the hallways, the one with more disciplinary notes than I can count.”
“I know,” Chishiya admitted, taking another bite of the cheesecake. The natural lemon scent that always clung to him soured slightly—an unmistakable sign he was uncomfortable or annoyed. “But I like him anyway.”
Kuina dramatically collapsed back into her chair (which, for some reason, had bunny-ear-shaped backrests), burying her face in both hands in pure frustration.
“This is worse than the time I saw you wearing Crocs with socks.”
“That was a dare, and it happened once.”
“Still counts!” She pointed at him accusingly. “Chishiya, you literally said—and I quote—‘Niragi Suguru is living proof that alphas shouldn’t be allowed to reproduce,’ and you said it TWO WEEKS AGO.”
“And I stand by it,” the ash-blond shot back. “He’s still objectively awful, but…”
“Chishiya, there is literally no logical explanation for this,” Arisu interrupted, taking another sip of his milkshake.
“Arisu’s right,” Usagi added, pushing her porcelain plate aside to lean both elbows on the table. “There are hundreds of alphas in this high school. Decent alphas. Alphas who don’t have a reputation for making everyone’s life hell the second they get near them.”
Chishiya sighed, feeling the frustration pile up in his chest. His friends were only telling the truth—he knew that. He knew Niragi’s reputation was questionable at best. The guy was almost six feet tall, had messy jet-black hair that somehow made him look unfairly hot, piercings that 100% violated dress code, and a smile that screamed trouble. He was infamous for starting arguments, having the shortest fuse known to mankind, and being the exact alpha most omegas avoided… unless they were looking for a one-night stand with the walking disaster.
Because yeah—what Niragi lacked in emotional stability, he more than made up for in looks.
“It was in physics lab,” Chishiya finally said, lowering his voice. “Two weeks ago. We were doing that stupid electric circuit experiment. Everyone in my group ditched class to do god-knows-what, so I was left alone. The circuit literally exploded and I almost burned my hand off.”
His friends went quiet, listening intently. Even Kuina straightened up in her chair, curiosity all over her face.
“Niragi was in the classroom next door. I guess he heard the bang, because one second later he was standing in front of me, yanking me out of the way so I wouldn’t actually hurt myself. Then he fixed the whole circuit in like five minutes while calling me reckless and saying omegas like me shouldn’t be in advanced classes if we can’t even connect two wires properly.”
“That doesn’t sound romantic,” Arisu pointed out. “That sounds kind of rude, actually.”
“It was,” Chishiya agreed. “But also… his scent changed. Just for a second, the aggressive sandalwood he usually weaponizes to scare people off softened. It was like catching a whiff of a forest after rain or something. And when he turned to check if I was okay—right before going back to being his usual asshole self—there was something different in his eyes.”
Kuina was staring at him with a mix of fascination and pure horror, like she was watching a car crash in slow motion.
“You’re doomed. Like, irreparably doomed.”
“Thank you for your unwavering support.”
“No, seriously,” Kuina whispered, lowering her voice as if the earlier meltdown over his disturbing confession hadn’t been loud enough. “Chishiya, you’re not like other omegas. You’re the omega who smells like industrial cleaner and tells alphas to fuck off when they try to use voice commands on you. You’re the omega who almost failed civics because you argued with the teacher who wouldn’t shut up about ‘biological roles.’ And now you’re telling us you have a crush on the most toxically alpha in this entire high school?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds awful.”
“Because it IS awful.”
Usagi jumped in after the awkward silence that had settled over the table.
“Look, Chishiya, we’re not going to judge you for your taste…”
“I am,” Arisu muttered, earning a sharp elbow from Usagi.
“…but you have to be realistic,” she continued. “Even if you decided to go for it, what would you even do? You’re not exactly the type of omega he usually goes for.”And there it was—the uncomfortable truth.
Chishiya knew exactly what kind of omegas caught Niragi’s attention. He’d seen them: sweet, submissive omegas who blushed the second Niragi looked their way, who dropped their gaze and bared their necks in respect, who practically leaked “please notice me” pheromones whenever he walked past. Omegas who were everything Chishiya absolutely was not. Chishiya was the omega who once told a senior alpha that his scent smelled like “cheap testosterone and poor life choices.”
The omega who refused suppressants during heat because “my body, my rules.”
The omega who had more disciplinary reports than half the school’s problem alphas combined—just because he refused to put up with condescending bullshit.
“I should just forget about it,” he finally said, grabbing his bag. “It was stupid to even bring it up.”
“Wait, wait!” Kuina grabbed his arm before he could stand. “I didn’t say it was impossible.”
Chishiya raised an eyebrow, skeptical.
“Kuina, you literally just listed every reason this is a terrible idea.”
“Yeah, well, I’m your best friend,” she declared with a grin. “My job is to point out when you’re being an idiot… but also to help you be a successful idiot if you decide to go through with it anyway.”
“This is going to end badly,” Arisu predicted.
“Definitely,” Usagi agreed.
But Kuina was already in full planning mode, her eyes sparkling with that dangerous glint she got whenever she came up with an idea that was probably terrible but potentially genius.
“Look, the problem is obvious,” she started, gesturing wildly. “Niragi is used to a very specific type of omega. The sweet, delicate kind who follow every single societal stereotype. You are literally the polar opposite of that.”
“Thank you for the reminder.”
“But that doesn’t mean you can’t get his attention!” Kuina continued, undeterred. “You just have to… play the game a little.”
“Play the game?”
“Play into the instincts, obviously.” Kuina pulled out her phone and started typing like a madwoman. “Look, I’m an omega. A pretty conventional one, I’ll admit. And I know exactly what makes alphas tick. It’s like… basic instinct mixed with centuries of ridiculous social evolution.”
“Sounds like pseudoscience and sexism with extra steps.”
“Exactly! But it works.” She turned her screen toward him—she’d already opened a new note. “I’m making a list. ‘How to Be a Good Omega.’ You follow the steps, you catch the alpha, you get your happily ever after… or your heart brutally crushed. Whatever fate decides.”
Chishiya stared at the screen with a mix of horror and morbid curiosity.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Yes. Keep living my life and eventually this stupid crush will die of natural causes.”
“Liar,” Kuina accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice before your little confession. You’ve been mooning over that idiot for two months. TWO MONTHS. I know you, Chishiya. Once something gets in your head, you don’t stop until you get it or it explodes spectacularly.”
He couldn’t argue with that. It was 100 % true. Chishiya was a lot of things, but a quitter wasn’t one of them. It was the same stubbornness that made him argue with teachers who said stupid shit, and the same one that refused to let him fit into the submissive-omega box society wanted to shove him into.
And maybe—just maybe—that same stubbornness could help him get something he actually wanted, no matter how stupid or impossible it seemed.
“Fine,” he finally relented. “But if this blows up in my face, I’m blaming you.”
“Deal.” Kuina bumped his fist with hers. “Besides, watching you try to be a ‘traditional omega’ is going to be legendary.”
Arisu and Usagi exchanged worried looks but stayed quiet. They knew Chishiya well enough to know that once he made up his mind, there was no stopping him.
“So,” Kuina said, turning back to her phone. “Let’s start with the basics. Step one—”
“Wait,” Chishiya cut her off. “Before you start your probably humiliating list, I need to know: does this actually work?”
Kuina looked at him dead serious.
“Chishiya, my sweet skeptical friend, alphas are predictable creatures. They’re like… basic programming. There are certain things that trigger their instincts, certain behaviors that make their inner alpha lose its damn mind. It’s biology. It’s psychology. It’s nature at its finest.”
“You still didn’t answer my question.”
“It does work,” Kuina confirmed. “But there’s one tiny problem.”
“Just one?”
“There’s no guarantee it’ll work on Niragi specifically,” she admitted. “Because let’s be real—Niragi isn’t exactly a standard alpha. He’s more like a factory-defective alpha someone should’ve returned while the warranty was still valid.”
“Super encouraging.”
“But,” Kuina continued, raising one finger dramatically, “that also means if we actually manage to get Niragi to notice you, it’ll be the ultimate proof it works. If you can catch the most uncatchable alpha in high school, you can catch anyone.”
“I don’t want just anyone,” Chishiya muttered. “I want…”
“The specific idiot,” Kuina finished for him. “Yeah, I know. The heart wants what it wants—even if what it wants is actively terrible for your mental health.”
The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in oranges and pinks through the window. The café had almost completely emptied; it was just them and a couple of people at a faraway table. Chishiya’s lemon scent mingled with Kuina’s softer, floral one, creating that weirdly comforting combination it always had.
“Fine,” Chishiya said at last, shoving his pride aside. “What’s the first step?”
Kuina grinned like a cat that just caught the canary.
“First, we lay the groundwork. Tomorrow’s Saturday. You’re coming to my place and we’re starting with theory before practice. You need to understand the mindset—the why behind every step. You can’t just follow instructions like a robot; you have to know how the game works.”
“This just keeps getting more interesting,” Arisu said, genuinely intrigued.
“You don’t have to come,” Chishiya told him.
“Are you kidding?” Arisu leaned forward with an actual pout. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s gonna be better than any Netflix show.”
“I’m coming too,” Usagi added. “Someone has to be the voice of reason when this inevitably spirals out of control.”
“It’s not going to spiral out of control,” Kuina insisted.
“It already has,” Usagi countered. “The second Chishiya decided he liked Niragi, this became a disaster waiting to explode.”
Chishiya couldn’t argue with that logic. Every rational part of him was screaming that this was a terrible idea. The part of his brain he’d always trusted to keep him out of trouble was begging him to drop it and move on with his life.
But there was another part—smaller, quieter, and rarely listened to—that wanted to try. That wanted to know if there was even the tiniest chance Niragi could ever see him as something more than the weird omega who sat three rows back in physics.
And maybe, just maybe, he’d end up learning something about himself along the way. Something about what it actually meant to be an omega beyond stereotypes and stupid societal expectations.
Or he’d just end up publicly humiliating himself in front of the entire high school.
Fifty-fifty, honestly.
“Tomorrow at two, my place,” Kuina declared, pocketing her phone. “And Chishiya—bring an open mind. You’re gonna need it.”
“My mind is so open it’s basically empty.”
“That’s the spirit.” Kuina slapped him on the shoulder. “This is going to be epic. Or an epic disaster. But epic either way.”
As they left the café and headed toward the train station, Chishiya couldn’t help but scan the street for a familiar figure. Niragi usually left late on Fridays—after some sports practice or hanging out with his equally chaotic friends—so he should be heading home around now.
And there he was.
Leaning against a wall near a convenience store, smoking a cigarette he definitely wasn’t supposed to have at eighteen. His sandalwood scent drifted through the air, mixed with tobacco smoke. His head was tipped back, eyes closed, and for one brief moment he almost looked… peaceful.
Then he opened his eyes.
And for a split second, their eyes met.
Chishiya’s heart did something stupid in his chest—like a stumble, a flip, or some equally ridiculous thing. The lemon scent rolling off him spiked without permission, and he silently cursed his inner omega for being so damn obvious.
Niragi raised one eyebrow. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth—not a nice one. The kind of smirk a predator gives its prey right before it pounces.
Then Kuina yanked him by the arm, dragging him in the opposite direction before he could do something mortifying like keep staring.
“Come on, Romeo,” she said. “Save that lovesick puppy look for when we actually have a plan.”
Chishiya let himself be pulled away, but not before stealing one last glance over his shoulder.
Niragi had already turned his attention back to his cigarette, apparently forgetting Chishiya existed.
Of course.
Because that’s how it had always been. Chishiya could notice every single detail about Niragi, but to the alpha, he was practically invisible.
Well. That was about to change.
Or he was going to humiliate himself spectacularly trying.
Probably the second one, if he was being honest.
But at least it was going to be interesting.