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The university cafeteria was a frantic mess of clattering trays and chatter. Every table was packed, forcing Sakura to take the last available seat directly across from Togame, one of the alphas in the class they shared. Not only was Togame part of the handful of seniors retaking the course, but he also had a charming, tall, muscular build that effortlessly drew everyone's attention.
Sakura usually avoided unnecessary interactions with people, especially alphas. Except this time.
As Sakura kept his head down, focusing on his meal, the air around the table shifted.
A soft, floral fragrance cut through the grease, drifted from the alpha. A scent so specific it made Sakura’s chest tighten. For an omega who had spent his life feeling like a curse, the scent felt like a cruel trick of fate. His heart began to flutter against his will.
Unable to let it go, Sakura looked up, his expression painfully serious. “Why do you smell like that? Like cherry blossoms?”
Togame didn't offer a serious answer. Instead, he leaned back with a playful smirk. “You’re Sakura, right? Funny how I smell just like your name," he said, his tone infuriatingly light. "Maybe it’s not a coincidence after all?”
The sheer audacity.
Sakura couldn't stop himself from turning crimson; his "love radar" went off, his body stopped listening to his brain. He was shaking like a leaf simply because an alpha—who smelled exactly like his name—was teasing him, but he also knew that Togame had just treated his question like a joke. Even so, he just sat there, stunned and blushing from head to toe, while Togame had the gall to actually laugh at his reaction.
What an absolute jerk.
*
Sakura actually believes in fated pairs. But from the gossip he’s heard around campus, Togame doesn’t. Sakura is honestly embarrassed to admit it, but even though he should feel annoyed and resentful toward him after his remark in the cafeteria, he’s been overthinking how Togame can smell like cherry blossoms—like his name—hidden beneath a warmer, more earthy scent.
Like, what are the odds?
What if moving to this town and restaring his life wasn't just about running away from being called bad omens his whole life? What if it was actually to find this one alpha? What if he’s not meant to be alone after all?
What if fated pairs do exist, and he’s lucky enough to have one?
Just the thought of it makes Sakura flush with shame, because since when do his hopes ever actually come true? And besides—he keeps reminding himself—Togame doesn't even believe fated pairs are real.
*
Ever since the moment that scent of cherry blossoms first haunted his senses, Sakura can't stop thinking about Togame. He finds himself staring at Togame’s back from the back row, stealing glances every time they share a path in the hallways. He acts as if doing all this could make fated pairs real, and once again, it makes him feel so ashamed of himself.
He doesn't even know Togame that well, but he lets his hopes soar just because he sees a chance that he won't end up as a pathetic, defective omega with him. Isn't that selfish?
When they get paired up for a project, Sakura makes sure to start killing off his stupid feelings. He promises himself not to hurt himself any further with delusional hopes when he’s supposed to be starting a better life in this town.
This makes him act all snappy and rude to Togame, like everything Togame does is wrong. At one point, Togame finally says, “You know your scent changes with your mood, right? I liked your scent better when we first talked.”
Sakura is stunned. Not just because they’re suddenly talking about something personal, but because Togame uses the word “liked”. Togame has an opinion on him, even though Sakura thought Togame had already forgotten their cafeteria interaction.
“If you’re having a bad day—or a bad week, since you’ve been this annoying since yesterday—we should just close these books and talk about it first,” Togame says, folding his arms and leaning across the table toward Sakura, ready to listen.
Sakura is completely lost for words. His face heats up, turning red all the way to his ears and the nape of his neck.
For a moment, just for a moment, Sakura thinks he could actually confess his feelings—the ones he just tried to kill off anyway—and end it all right then and there. But then he sees Togame leans his head down a little, trying to catch his eye, his lips curling into a thin, gentle smile—so different from that annoying smirk in the cafeteria, and Sakura’s heart isn’t just racing. It throbs, tightening with a sudden knot of emotions. And suddenly his scent shifts; what was once bold and bratty with hints of citrus and amber turns into something much … softer … and timid.
“You won’t understand,” Sakura says as he packs up his things and just … walks out, leaving Togame sitting there, stunned and confused, but fully aware that he just caught a scent that completely betrayed Sakura’s sudden exit.
The younger boy’s face looks cold, stubborn, and defiant, but his scent ... it feels fragile.
*
One day, as mid-terms are almost over, Togame realises the jacket he was wearing this morning has vanished from his seat. He’d only stepped out for a moment to return his exam books to the library. He doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, but Togame immediately suspects it was taken by someone in heat who secretly likes him—it’s happened before, after all, given that he’s one of those alphas with a face and scent that are hard to ignore.
Togame quietly asks around—whispering, since it’s a sensitive and private topic—about who might have a crush on him, but everyone mentioned by his friends is present on campus. No one is on leave, absent, or has suddenly dropped off the radar.
That is, until his thoughts drift to his monochrome-haired junior—realising he hasn't caught a single glimpse of his heterochromatic blue and yellow eyes all day today.
“Hey. You’re not on campus today? Or did you head home early? Is everything all right?” Togame finally decides to check in via text even though he doesn’t use his phone often, because that’s the only way he can contact Sakura.
Sakura replies a few minutes later with, “Why?”
“I’m not trying to be full of myself or overstep, but is my jacket with you? I just wanna know.”
Sakura doesn't answer, which is an answer in itself. The lack of a denial is the only confirmation Togame needs.
“Sakura, I know we haven't been on the best of terms. It seems like you’re bottling a lot of things up and prefer it that way. But I’m gonna say it again—and I’m not joking when I say this—you can talk to me if you want to. You trust my jacket, so maybe try trusting me too?” Togame feels like that last sentence sounds a bit stupid, but he hits send anyway.
Togame figures Sakura won't reply—it happened before with someone who "borrowed" his jacket and returned it secretly without any drama, which is why Togame tends to stay calm when this happens. He’s already finished his classes, gone home, eaten, and is even ready to head out again to help his neighbour at the izakaya when he finally sees a new message from Sakura.
“You don’t believe in fated pairs. Talking about it with you is useless.”
Togame is genuinely stunned. But he’s no fool when it comes to things like this. “Is it because of my scent? I still remember our first talk at the cafeteria. My cherry blossom scent isn't just a trivial thing to you, is it?”
“What's the point of this? You were such a jerk back then, so stop acting like you care,” Sakura texts. “I’ll give your jacket back tomorrow. Sorry.”
Honestly, something in Togame’s chest stirs as he reads that. Ah, finally, his junior is being blunt about his feelings. Togame frowns at his screen, carefully picking his next words.
“Sakura, maybe just to clarify. I don’t believe in fated pairs, but that doesn't mean I don’t care about the possibility of meeting someone who could be my lifelong partner. I just don’t think I need ‘fate’ for that to work out.”
“But I do. That’s why you’ll never get it. Don’t contact me anymore.”
That’s the last message from Sakura, and it instantly wipes away the small trace of joy Togame felt earlier. How could an omega who "stole" and is literally nesting in his jacket right now say something so cold?
And sure enough, for the next few days, Sakura never replies to Togame again.
*
Sakura only resurfaces a week after having his friend Nirei return the jacket in secret—since he couldn't leave his home at the time. He’s just survived his first heat as a college student, and it was the absolute worst one he’s ever experienced. His brain forced him to return the jacket right when his heart and body needed it most during his darkest days as an omega; nothing could replace the comfort that only a piece of clothing from the alpha he likes could provide. He has a few kind friends from other classes who lent him their things, but his nest back at the apartment felt incomplete, cold, and desolate without that specific jacket.
To make matters worse, it all left Sakura feeling layers of resentment, sadness, and disappointment—both at his circumstances and himself. He’s reminded of how much he hates this body, always needing someone else when there’s no alpha to ease the burden of his heat. So, on top of a body writhing with unfulfilled desire, his mind was completely stressed.
He pins the blame on Togame—or rather, on the pathetic feelings Togame inspired. Like, can he just not be that nice when they’re never going to be anything? No matter how hard he tries to deny it, Sakura’s heart is weak against that kind of kindness. Especially when Togame looks at him with such attention, like when they were working on their project ... so sweet and handsome … his green eyes radiating warmth without the annoying glint from their first talk.
Now Togame knows how he feels, but that doesn't mean they can just discuss it like an exam question. Sakura doesn't want to get hurt again. He’s just trying to shield himself from a pain that’s been far too familiar his whole life—the pain of being unwanted and cast aside. This is a defense mechanism against a lifelong pattern of rejection that he doesn’t even know if he can change it.
How did something that started as hope turn into this? Isn't hope supposed to be a beautiful thing?
*
Once they finally cross paths on campus again, Togame makes sure they’re going to talk. The second their class is dismissed, he chases him out of the room. Just as Sakura is about to disappear into the crowd in the hallway, Togame reaches out and firmly catches the back of Sakura’s backpack.
“Wha—the hell? Let go!” Sakura snaps, sounding offended as he spins around. But he freezes for a split second when he sees Togame wearing that same jacket—the one he had been hugging and wrapping around himself just a week ago. The vivid memory of his own scent mingling with Togame’s fabric makes Sakura bashfully look away, his head ducked in shame.
“You walked out on me once and left me on read too. I’m not gonna let you keep pulling that move on me. I want to talk to you,” Togame says. “And I mean a real talk, like normal. Over food or something. To get to know each other. Also, as an apology for being a jerk to you back then.”
No, absolutely not a date, Sakura’s mind argues with itself the second the thought crosses his mind. But his cheeks heat up anyway, and his body—oh, damn it—releases a reactionary scent that makes Togame smile, having caught a "yes" before Sakura can even say a word.
“S-stop smiling like that,” Sakura blurts out.
Togame’s grin only widens. In response, he lets out a scent deeper than the cherry blossoms that started this whole mess—a grounding aroma that locks Sakura’s mouth shut as Togame grabs the edge of his bag and starts pulling him down the hall.
“W-Why are you doing … this? Aren’t you … mad … at me?” Sakura asks once they’ve stepped outside the building. “I mean, last week—”
“It’s okay. You needed it,” Togame cuts him off. “I would have lent it to you anyway, if you’d just asked.”
Sakura’s heart swells.
*
Apparently, Togame knows “some good places” for lunch around campus for every kind of mood. He mentions being a huge fan of trying new foods, which sends a small jolt through Sakura’s heart—because he, too, loves to eat. One thing in common. Then Togame mentions that he prefers going straight to the spot rather than ordering in or making reservations, because for some reason, even in the 21st century, he hates using his phone. Sakura’s heart beats a little faster. Two things in common.
“No shit. You type like an old man.”
“Says the guy who takes forever to type a reply,” Togame shoots back.
Fair point, damn it.
Togame is true to his word about wanting a normal conversation. They stick to the most mundane topics, though for now, Sakura mostly stays quiet and lets Togame talk about his life outside of campus.
Sakura doesn't feel too pressured because there’s always something to chew on in front of them, which acts like an anchor, giving him something to focus on besides Togame’s green eyes—which are sometimes framed by orange-tinted glasses—or Togame’s mouth, the corners of which lift so sweetly every time he smiles—or watching Togame brush his thick, black hair back, leaving the strands in a casual disarray that Sakura desperately wants to reach out and touch.
Slowly but surely, Sakura learns more about the alpha he likes—beyond just the scent that shares his name.
With every passing second of their time together, Sakura knows his heart is only falling deeper, his hopes soaring higher … and when things turn sour, he’ll only hit the ground even harder.
*
“So, what’s the deal with this fated pair thing anyway?” Togame asks during one of their walks after class. He had waited for Sakura to finish all his lectures, even though he could have gone home much earlier—a fact that has kept Sakura’s heart racing since before he even stepped out of the classroom.
“It’s just a stupid belief of mine,” Sakura mutters.
“How did you end up believing in it anyway?”
“How did you end up not believing?”
“I told you, I don’t need ‘fate’—”
“A fated pair isn't just about fate. It’s about a biological compatibility between you and your partner. You just know you’re meant for each other the second you meet. It’s not something you can negotiate. Fated pairs can get seriously stressed if that biological connection is denied. That’s what ‘fate’ actually is.”
“But you don’t need that for a relationship to work, right?”
“You can’t be with someone who is fated to someone else.”
“Even if, let’s say, I liked someone else? Someone who isn't my fated pair?”
“You wouldn't be able to like anyone else.”
“But biology is different from emotional connection.”
Sakura feels like this conversation is going nowhere. “See? You just don’t get it.”
“But why are you so … insistent about it? Do you actually want a fated pair?”
Sakura turns his head away, his face flushing deep red, but his brow furrows with discomfort. “Yeah,” he admits softly. “I thought your … cherry blossom scent … was a sign or something. But I guess I was just getting my hopes too high.”
“Hmm. Why is it so important to you though? You don’t strike me as the hopeless romantic type.”
Because it’s not just about romance, Sakura screams internally, but he keeps it to himself. He’s afraid Togame will judge him for being selfish. He doesn’t just need a soulmate. He wants to be rescued from the suffocating vacuum of his own life. He wants to feel like he’s worth something to someone, like he matters to someone—something his family never did, and something his friends can't provide enough of. He’s not just selfish; he’s greedy for that feeling.
He’s an omega, and his body needs an alpha.
Despite his heavy heart and stuttering voice, Sakura tries to explain his reasons to Togame. When he finishes, Togame asks, “It seems like … you haven't learned to love yourself yet? How are you going to love your fated pair later?”
Togame probably doesn’t mean it, but he’s using that same annoying tone from back at the cafeteria. And Sakura stares at him, wanting to snap back like he usually does, his heterochromatic eyes radiating confusion—emotions that are almost certain to manifest as frustration, but his mind goes blank. Love himself?
“Think about it. If you meet them, you don't just receive love; you have to give it too. If it’s fated, does that just happen automatically too?”
And if he can’t love himself, can Sakura even meet his fated pair? Even if he did, would he even deserve them? The questions hit him like a massive boulder falling from the sky, weighing down his steps and draining every bit of interest he had in being with Togame that day.
Togame leads Sakura to a crowded ramen shop. He ducks inside for a moment to put their names on the waiting list, but by the time he steps back out, Sakura is gone.
*
Togame immediately knows he messed up. Fated pairs have always been a touchy subject for Sakura. Togame thought their relationship had improved enough to discuss it casually, but they are still just getting to know each other, and Togame still doesn't know where Sakura's boundaries lie. It seems he has crossed a line.
All his texts and calls that day go unanswered. Togame looks for him at campus the next day even though they have no shared classes, but Sakura hasn’t shown up, and his friends haven't heard from him either.
His last resort is going to Sakura’s apartment. Luckily, Sakura’s friends are well-informed enough about their closeness to give him the address.
The apartment isn't far from campus. After a ten-minute walk and stopping to buy some food, Togame stands before the door and rings the bell. Once, twice. There is no response at all. Togame knocks on the door, a growing sense of panic rising in his chest.
He is actually considering breaking the door down when the intercom crackles with Sakura’s raspy voice. “What are you even doing here?”
“Sakura! Are you okay? Is it because of me? Did I say something wrong? Or are you sick? Will you let me in?” Togame bombards him with questions.
“I just ….” Sakura sounds unprepared to answer anything. “I just want to be alone right now.”
“But I want to be with you. Please, let me—”
“Stop it! You're the last person I want to see today!” Sakura snaps.
“Have you eaten? I brought food,” Togame says. And that makes Sakura hesitate; the mention of food seems to break his resolve. Shortly after, Togame hears the lock click, and he finally steps inside.
The studio apartment is dark, lit only by a dim bedside lamp and kitchen light, and it feels heavy with … sadness. The air feels thick with a bitter citrus scent—as if every corner of the room has been marked by lament and tears. Togame’s heart feels squeezed, sensing the sorrow of an omega he cares for, knowing he is likely the trigger. But Togame pretends to ignore it so the mood doesn't darken further. He borrows the kitchen and sets the table while Sakura sits huddled in a blanket on the sofa.
Once the table is set, Togame calls Sakura to eat with him. But Sakura won’t budge from the sofa, staring blankly ahead with swollen eyes and a pale face.
Togame decides to sit beside him, which prompts Sakura to speak. “I want to die, and I’ll die alone.”
Togame’s eyes widen. “Where did that come from—?”
“That’s what I think every time I think about fated pairs,” Sakura says coldly. “Because you’re right, they don’t exist. Or even if they do, I’ll never meet mine, or I won’t be good enough for them, because I can’t even love myself.”
Togame curses to himself, realising this really is all because of what he said yesterday.
“Maybe the people from my childhood were right. With all my abnormalities, I’m just a bad omen,” Sakura continues. “I just …. I moved here to try to live a better life, but then I met you, and I have this stupid hope of meeting my fated pair that’s getting out of control. I thought I wouldn’t be alone anymore, but—why the fuck do you smell like cherry blossoms, like my name, if I’m not your fated pair? Fuck—this is so embarrassing.”
Sakura wipes a stray tear from his cheek with a rough motion. He’s so aggressive about it that it looks like he’s about to slap his own face. Togame catches his wrist, keeps holding it as he rests their hands on his thigh.
“I don't know your whole story yet, but I know life has been hard on you,” Togame says softly. “But, Sakura … you don’t have to be so mean to yourself.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just decided for yourself that I’m not your fated pair. What if I am? I smell like cherry blossoms, then I meet a guy named Sakura, and he’s crushing on me so hard I can’t stop thinking about him. Now I’m sitting with him in his dark apartment, listening to him whine about not having a fated pair while thinking about how none of it is true. I know fated pairs meet dramatically in stories, but what if in the real world, the way they meet is exactly like this?”
“But you don’t believe—”
“I don’t know how it works, but maybe this is how it happens for us? Without the cosmic reasons and all that,” Togame says. “Well, I can’t exactly prove it ….”
“But …. You never said anything about how you feel about me?” Sakura says in a tiny voice.
“I haven’t had the chance. Sakura … you’re a complicated person, you know that? You’ve suddenly walked out on me twice, and now you’ve assumed all of this without talking to me first, without confirming my feelings or anything. And today, you just disappeared.”
“… Sorry,” Sakura says quietly. “When it gets like this … I just shut down.”
Togame squeezes his hand. “You don’t have to do that anymore. I’m here.”
“I-Is that in a … friendly way, or … do you feel something … as crazy and irrational as what I feel for you?”
Togame is silent for a moment. “Maybe something crazy and irrational. Can I show you?”
“How?”
Togame shifts, his hand reaches for the back of Sakura’s neck, anchoring Sakura as he leans in, closing the distance until their lips meet.
He intends for it to be a brief kiss—a revelation of feelings more tangible than words. When he pulls back to look at Sakura, the sight before him is the sweetest thing he’s seen since they met. The younger boy’s face is a deep, burning crimson, his expression a chaotic blur of frustration and longing. Through the hand on Sakura’s back, Togame can feel his heart thumping like a trapped bird, perfectly in sync with his own.
“How’s that for a confession?” Togame whispers.
“W-wasn’t … bad,” Sakura stammers. “B-but … ‘is not enough—”
“What—”
Sakura feels like he’s finally been given the green light he’s waited for far too long. He fists his senior’s collar like he’s got something to prove, pressing their faces together and kissing Togame back hungrier, until Togame has to use his other hand to brace himself on the sofa so he doesn't collapse on top of him. Sakura's blanket slides off, forgotten and discarded on the floor. When Sakura realises he can’t pull Togame his way, he goes the opposite direction, pushing Togame’s body almost twice bigger than his size back without breaking the kiss, filling the quiet room with the sound of gasping breaths. Togame has to plant his hands behind him to keep from being pinned flat.
“The hell are you holding back for?” Sakura demands against his lips.
“I have to! We were having a conversation!”
Sakura pouts, looking ten times cuter and more adorable with his flushed face just inches from Togame’s. The junior releases a soft, light, and clean powdery scent that reminds Togame of a specific soap from the public bathhouse he frequents. He also hears a faint purring—something he’s never heard from an omega before because he’s never been this far with one. It makes him realise there are still so many sides of Sakura he doesn’t know yet.
“You smell … incredible when you’re so happy,” Togame whispers, brushing a thumb over Sakura’s damp white lashes. “Sakura, you’ve been sad for too long …. From now on, to make sure you treat yourself better, we’re going to—”
Togame wants to finish their conversation, to reach a rational conclusion and a solution. But Sakura is done with logic. He uses more strength to push Togame down onto the sofa and climbs over him, rubbing his cheek against every side of Togame’s face, aggressively mixing their scents. He buries his hands in Togame's thick, short hair, clutching and tugging at the strands until Togame lets out a low groan right against his skin.
He kisses Togame as if he’s found a new life purpose. The cherry blossom scent Togame radiates seems to encourage him, making it hard for Togame to control him when his own body is cheering him on. In the end, between being kissed senseless or listening to Sakura talk while crying, Togame chooses the former. He wraps his arms around Sakura’s small waist, holding him steady as he lets the junior take what he wants.
The talking is over.
As they lay tangled together on the sofa, if this isn't "fated," nothing is.