Chapter 13: As Her Alpha

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Someki-chan caught me during practice, babbling some kind of story about Yoru having collapsed during a student council meeting. Naturally, I dropped everything to race to the infirmary, panicking over a half-dozen horrible scenarios. By the time I got there, however, she was gone; Kuroyama-sensei kindly explained that someone had already picked her up.

It wounded my pride a little, to know that I had arrived too late to be the one to help. During New Year’s, I had promised to be Yoru’s alpha, to always be there to protect her, and yet I had already failed in my duty after just a handful of weeks into the start of Winter semester. Of course, I wasn’t upset that I hadn’t reached her in time; rather, I was cursing myself for not taking better care of her after gym class, when I knew she wasn’t feeling well.

Showing a remarkable lack of foresight, I’d rushed out of the nurse’s office without asking any relevant questions about her condition ⸺ well, at least beyond a superficial analysis, and a brief inquiry as to her present location. Now, standing in the aisles of the convenience store up the street from my house, I was starting to regret my haste.

I wanted to bring her things that would help her feel better, that would do something to manage her condition, but I was at a complete loss as to what those objects might be. Did she have a fever? Should I get her something to eat? Would she even be able to eat anything? Would a vitamin pack help, or was it just a waste of effort?

I’d grabbed the essentials, at least, the things that I knew would be useful in any situation. My hand-basket was filled with large bottles of weak tea, some over-the-counter painkillers, and the flower candy that she liked so much. Doubtlessly her mom’s house would have their own medicine stockpile, but I couldn’t shake this nagging feeling that I had to make up for something ⸺ like I had to prove that I could still be her alpha.

Dozens of brands of cough syrups and anti-nausea tablets spread out before me, each proclaiming themselves to be the cure-all that I’d require. I’d half a mind to simply buy one of everything, but it wouldn’t be good to mix and match; if nothing else, I had sense enough to avoid overdosing.

Regrettably, I’d need the help of a professional. Sighing in frustration, I jammed my hand into my pocket, fishing out my phone. Nervously, I tapped out a message, hoping the school nurse wouldn’t be too busy to respond.

 

---

 

EvningLily: hey
EvningLily: got a minute?

TallDrkBeauty: I told you
TallDrkBeauty: not to text me
TallDrkBeauty: ever again

EvningLily: I’m sorry

TallDrkBeauty: don’t be sorry
TallDrkBeauty: be off this app

EvningLily: Saeko-san

TallDrkBeauty: I’m serious
TallDrkBeauty: uninstall

EvningLily: please, listen
EvningLily: I really need
EvningLily: your help

TallDrkBeauty: I’m not going
TallDrkBeauty: to bitch for you again
TallDrkBeauty: work out your rut
TallDrkBeauty: on someone else

EvningLily: it’s not about that
EvningLily: it’s about Yoru

TallDrkBeauty: what about her?
TallDrkBeauty: I already told you
TallDrkBeauty: that I sent her home
TallDrkBeauty: an hour ago

EvningLily: yeah, but
EvningLily: I don’t know what
EvningLily: to get her
EvningLily: …
EvningLily: there’s too many
EvningLily: medicines

TallDrkBeauty: …

EvningLily: please
EvningLily: tell me what to buy
EvningLily: I want
EvningLily: to help her

TallDrkBeauty: …

EvningLily: I want to be
EvningLily: a good alpha

TallDrkBeauty: …
TallDrkBeauty: I think
TallDrkBeauty: I’ve already seen
TallDrkBeauty: what kind of alpha
TallDrkBeauty: you are
TallDrkBeauty: …
TallDrkBeauty: you don’t need
TallDrkBeauty: to worry
TallDrkBeauty: about that

EvningLily: …
EvningLily: Saeko-san
EvningLily: I’m begging you

TallDrkBeauty: …
TallDrkBeauty: fine

EvningLily: !!!!
EvningLily: thank you

TallDrkBeauty: honestly
TallDrkBeauty: the things I do
TallDrkBeauty: for older women

EvningLily: I really, really
EvningLily: appreciate it

TallDrkBeauty: if you want
TallDrkBeauty: to thank me
TallDrkBeauty: you can just
TallDrkBeauty: lose my number

 

---

 

It probably would have been a good idea to drop all my stuff off at my own home first, seeing as it was right next door and everything, but I was too anxious to waste even a minute longer than I had to.

Not having had a chance to shower after club, I looked like kind of a mess; it made me a little self-conscious, especially with the way I’d been obsessing over my appearance after New Year’s. Someki-chan’s comments had worsened that tight feeling in my chest, even though she probably didn’t mean anything by it. I wanted to be perceived as “cute”, or “beautiful” maybe, but the word she’d used was “handsome”; it wasn’t unflattering, obviously, but that was the word people used to describe Mama. Sure, I wanted to be Yoru’s tough, protective alpha ⸺ but couldn’t I still do that while being labeled as something even slightly more feminine than “handsome”?

It stung, just a little, that Reika’s ninety-kilogram, muscular body was perceived as “gorgeous”, and mine wasn’t. Disgusted with myself for even having had the thought, I let my sense of guilt wrap around me. It wasn’t a comparison I should’ve made, not after I’d seen how my gyaru struggled with her own self-image, but the bitter taste filled my mouth just the same.

Absorbed in my own self-pity, I pressed the button on the intercom outside, announcing my presence.

To my surprise, Yoru’s mom answered the door. Naturally, I had assumed that I’d hit the buzzer a couple of times and then just let myself in; if need be, my parents even had a copy of the spare key to the house, for the rare occasions when Hoshino-san had to take a business trip.

“Saya-chan!” she smiled, welcoming me inside. “What a delight to see you.”

“Sorry for the intrusion,” I said, holding up my shopping bag. “I brought some stuff for Yoru ⸺ I was thinking I could cook her something, too, if she’s hungry.”

“You’re such a thoughtful girlfriend,” she said, beaming at me. “I’m glad my little Yoru has such kind girls looking after her.”

Pain and self-satisfaction mixed in equal measure, swirling around each other. It felt so good to hear Yoru’s mom acknowledge me as her partner, but it hurt just as much to know that she was horribly mistaken regarding that fact.

“It’s the least I can do,” I mumbled, trying to hide my slight blush.

I kicked off my shoes in the foyer, feeling just as comfortable in Hoshino-san’s home as I did my own. Somewhat surprisingly, I noticed a pair of fashionable flats that were much too big to belong to anyone that lived here.

“Reika-chan is already upstairs,” Hoshino-san explained, understanding my momentary hesitation. “She carried Yoru all the way up there herself, if you can believe it.”

It wasn’t hard at all for me to believe her statement. Yoru would be little more than a training weight for Reika, the tall blonde easily capable of bench-pressing the smaller girl without breaking a sweat; managing a princess-carry up the stairwell was more a problem of Reika’s size than it was her physical ability.

“That’s nice of her,” I replied neutrally, feeling obligated to continue the small talk. I didn’t have any problems with Reika, but I was still feeling a little petulant that I hadn’t gotten to carry Yoru myself.

Smiling to herself, Hoshino-san crossed her arms under her chest; her gaze traveled upwards, as though she could peer into Yoru’s room through the floor.

“I don’t know how my daughter managed to charm all three of you at once,” she said, “but it comforts me to know that she has such capable young women by her side.”

“Three?” I echoed, hiding my confusion and irritation at the back of my tongue.

Hoshino-san turned to regard me, a thin smile on her face.

“There’s no need to be so snappy,” she chided, having caught on to my true feelings; she was close-enough to being my third mother, I supposed, so it was a simple thing for her to peek behind my mask. “I’m sure you’re not thrilled about having to share with your sister, but you can’t deny that Runa-chan cares for her, too.”

“I guess not,” I sighed, pushing down on my frustration.

Onee-san didn’t care about Yoru in the same way that I did, I was sure ⸺ but if it came down to it, I knew she’d do whatever was necessary to protect our cute little idiot. It was honestly my sister’s sincerity that really raised my hackles; it was fine if she wanted to look after Yoru as like a little sister, but I wouldn’t let her steal my place as Yoru’s alpha.

Hoshino-san’s features softened, as she held my gaze with her kind eyes. “If it helps, you can think of things from my perspective,” she offered, a slight sadness coloring her delicate alto. “I like to think I do everything I can for my daughter, but there are some things that she won’t ⸺ or maybe can’t ⸺ tell me. It must sound silly to hear me say this out loud, but I’ve always felt like there’s a kind of darkness lurking around her.”

Putting a hand to her chin, Hoshino-san seemed to lose herself in a particularly bitter thought.

“I know it looked like she handled the divorce rather well, but her shoulders always seemed heavier after that year her father left.” She sighed, an ancient stress working itself out of her lungs. “No matter how hard I try, I’ve never been able to get her to talk to me about it.”

A cloud hung heavy over her eyes, Hoshino-chan’s shoulders bowing just slightly under this unspoken burden. I knew her daughter meant everything to her, but I clearly hadn’t understood the depth of that love, or the concern that came along with it. Ignorant of Yoru’s first life, and the trials thereof, Hoshino-san nevertheless could still see that lingering aura, and the pain it caused her child.

“You three have done a lot to perk up her mood these days,” she continued, allowing her momentary grimace to fade back into a polite smile. “It pains me to say this, but it looks like there’s a limit to what I can do as her mother. I’m grateful to you, I really am, for always taking care of my little girl.”

Feeling the weight of the bracelet around my wrist, I recalled my promise to both of Yoru’s mothers.

“Of course,” I replied, smiling wide enough to show my fangs. “As her alpha, it’s my pleasure.”

Some of that heaviness sloughing off her shoulders, Hoshino-san’s smile brightened once more. “Just be sure that you’re taking appropriate measures during all that ‘pleasure’, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” I blushed, the heat spreading down to my collar.

Letting me off with just some minor teasing, she grinned back at me as I shuffled past her, headed up to Yoru’s room.

 

---

 

As I entered the bedroom, I found Reika kneeling next to the bed, a look of concern on her face. Gently, as though cradling a newborn animal, she held Yoru’s small hand in between both of her own.

Even in this tender moment, Reika still shone radiantly. The twilight spilling in through the window caught her golden hair, diffusing into a soft mandorla. Truly, even with her bimbo affectation, she seemed to me like the image of a saint, some matronly goddess taking pity on the sick. Ostensibly I was here for Yoru’s sake, and yet my gyaru’s own beauty left me awestruck. In a way, it was terribly disheartening to find myself next to two eminently gorgeous women; while I was thrilled to be chasing my girls, it hurt to know that my own appeal had to be so dim when placed next to their conflagration.

A consummate angel of mercy, Reika was so focused on Yoru that she didn’t even notice my arrival.

“I brought some things,” I tried hesitantly, holding out the shopping bag. “Cooling patches, and tea, and some other stuff.”

Turning her head slowly to meet my gaze, she offered me a wan smile, her heart not totally in it.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she said, staunchly flirty despite the circumstance; it was practically an automatic response, Reika simply moving on autopilot while her thoughts were occupied with concern for Yoru’s health. “It’s nice to see you.”

Her greeting had so little gravity to it, sounding almost perfunctory. As glad as I was to hear her voice, to see her beautiful face, little barbs of guilt still prickled my chest, reminding me of how I’d failed to protect my love ⸺ and how I’d selfishly split that love between my two omegas.

“You could’ve texted me,” I deflected, crossing the room to stand next to her. “I had to hear about it from Someki-chan.”

Staring down at my childhood friend, my heart ached to see her in such poor condition. Her chest rose and fell, heaving with the effort; even buried under so many blankets, I watched her fragile form tremble with an awful shiver, sweat drenching her porcelain skin.

“I’m sorry I forgot,” Reika replied, her eyes studying me. “After I got to the nurse’s office, it was hard to think of anything but Rucchan.”

Sitting down on the bed, the mattresses depressed slightly under my weight. Rummaging through my overfull sack, I produced some linen that I’d taken from downstairs. Gingerly, I dabbed the soft fabric against Yoru’s skin, wiping away her sweat.

“That’s alright,” I smiled, my eyes staying focused on my task. “I’m not upset over it, or anything; if I’d gotten to her first, I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, either.”

Relaxing under my admission, Reika’s eyes still held me in their piercing stare. There was something inside me she was searching for, something that mattered just as much as her concern for Yoru. Ignorant of their query, I kept my hands busy, administering this slight comfort to my childhood friend.

“She was pretty out of it when I picked her up,” Reika explained, watching me as I worked. “Maybe it was the fever talking, but she was mumbling all kinds of stuff.”

“It’s probably one of those ‘fever dreams’ you hear about,” I offered, more to make polite conversation than anything else; a queer tension built up inside me, an awkwardness born from my lack of self-confidence. “Did she say anything weird?”

Reika stayed quiet for a long moment, my question seemingly slipping right past her. I couldn’t tell if she was simply chewing on her answer, or if she hadn’t heard me correctly, her concentration centered on the situation at hand.

Interrupting my nervous contemplation, Yoru squirmed feverishly under the blankets, stricken by some wretched dream. It hurt to see her like this, unable to do anything meaningful to assuage her invisible agony, and yet my attention was still split between her and my gyaru; it seemed like a betrayal of some kind, but my promise to my two loves demanded it.

Still, Reika hesitated, deliberating. I thought about repeating myself, but eventually she began to speak.

“She was saying stuff about me, I think,” she started, her lovely features twisting into a slighted grimace. “It didn’t really make a lot of sense, but it all sounded really important, at least to her.”

Fumbling with the buttons on Yoru’s shirt, I opened it enough to reveal her chest. I dabbed at the sweat that pooled there, wondering if I shouldn’t find something a little more comfortable to dress her in.

“Do you remember any of it?” I asked, staining the cloth as I worked. “Like, enough that we can piece it back together.”

“Some of it,” Reika admitted. “It was all mixed up, but she was trying to tell me about some woman she knew, I think ⸺ or maybe like, some woman I was supposed to know.”

Filled with an eerie trepidation, I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t stop her, and put an end to this conversation before it went somewhere painful for my gyaru. There was only one woman who Yoru could’ve been babbling about, and I could imagine why she normally kept it to herself ⸺ after all, I was still hiding all this from Reika, too.

Pressured by my guilt, I decided to at least be honest with her.

“Let me try a guess,” I sighed, setting down the sweat-soaked cloth; turning, I met her gaze, refusing to let myself flinch away. “Was the woman’s name ‘Saeko’, by any chance?”

“That’s way too close for a lucky guess,” Reika growled, sensing my duplicity. “Are you keeping something from me, Sayacchi?”

Her accusation wounded my pride, but I would have to just hold that; it hadn’t been my intention to deceive her, but the end result was the same either way.

“Not a whole lot,” I muttered, fighting against that anxiousness in my chest, “but I have a couple ideas, maybe.”

“Then let’s trade,” my gyaru offered, looking hurt. “I’ll tell you what Rucchan said, if you come clean with me first.”

“It’s not like I was trying to keep you in the dark,” I relented, dredging up a painful memory, only weeks past, “but I've heard that name once before.”

“Sayacchi, please,” she begged, concealing her impetuous excitement, “just be honest with me. I can’t handle any games.”

It grated on my nerves, that she’d accuse me of behaving like my sister; biting back a brash comment, I took a deep breath, abandoning my animosity before it could blossom any further.

“On New Year’s Eve,” I exhaled, letting go of my indignation, “when we were rutting … ⸺ you called me by some other woman’s name.”

Little knives of jealousy and self-judgement slid along my veins, dragging that awful memory through my system, forcing me to replay it in my head. Shamefully, I had almost confessed my infatuation with her, and my hesitation had been rewarded with a metaphorical slap in the face; even now, it still stung.

“I’m sorry,” Reika mumbled, her eyes falling to the bedsheets, releasing me. “I don’t remember doing anything like that ⸺ I don’t remember a lot of things, apparently.”

“You called me ‘Saeko’,” I continued, pushing past my bitter feelings. “You told this other woman that you loved her, just before you fell asleep.”

“I’m sorry Sayacchi,” she repeated, clearly suffering, her distress writ large across her angelic visage. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I’d never want to hurt you like that.”

“It’s fine,” I lied, waving away her discomfort. “We were only rutting, or whatever ⸺ it didn’t mean anything.”

It meant everything to me, I thought to myself, trapped in this muted longing.

“I still don’t understand,” Reika winced, distressed by my assessment of our night together. “I have no idea who ‘Saeko’ could even be. I’ve never met anyone with that name.”

“You have, though,” I responded quietly, wishing that being honest about Saeko-san didn’t feel so much like letting a relationship with Reika slip through my fingers. “You’ve met her twice now, even, if we include your forgotten past.”

Removing one of her hands from her grip on Yoru, she offered it to me; I accepted it, this assurance only worsening my thirst for my gyaru, raising the stakes of my loss even higher.

“It’s okay, Sayacchi,” she said, her sincerity evident in her words and her scent, blanketing me with flower candy. “I’m not going to throw away our … ⸺ our friendship, over a woman that I can’t even remember.”

I could stop here, if I wanted; I could interrogate that misstep, and maybe bring the two of us closer together. Duplicity wasn’t my style, though; if I was going to win Reika’s heart, I’d have to face all my challengers head-on.

Sighing despondently, I pressed on. “A couple months ago, when you told us about the holes in your memory, do you remember what you said about Kuroyama-sensei?”

“Kinda, I guess,” Reika nodded. “There’s this weird impression I have of her, like she’s someone important to me, someone I care about.”

“That’s because she is,” I said, fighting my apprehension. “This ‘Saeko’ you keep talking about, is Kuroyama-sensei ⸺ Kuroyama Saeko.”

Selfish anguish welled up in my chest, as I watched the realization dawn on my gyaru’s radiant features, the confusion and disbelief warring with each other in the twitch of her beautiful mouth.

“That can’t be right,” she argued, rejecting this worrying truth; I could sense her growing panic, her fingers gripping mine just a little tighter. “At my orientation with Yoru, like, she had no idea who I was. She’d never met me before.”

“She was just pretending,” I insisted, shaking my head. “She admitted that much to Yoru and I directly.”

“But why?” Reika whined, her world shifting underneath her feet. “If she already knew me, if she knew that I felt something for her … ⸺ why wouldn’t she just tell me?”

“Think about it for a minute,” I implored softly, squeezing her hand affectionately. “When you didn’t recognize her in the infirmary that day, I’m sure she thought it was best for you if she just kept quiet.”

Reika sat for a long minute, the silence of the room encircling us. The only sound was the muffled rasp of Yoru’s breathing, our sweet idiot struggling against her illness.

Her signature half-smile nowhere to be found, Reika let her true emotions show on her face. Letting go of my hand, she slid her fingers through her golden hair, working her way through the dozens of habitual motions that implied a sense of normalcy, grounding her in the moment.

“It’s not like I’d be reckless enough to confess to a teacher,” she moaned irritably, coming around to the truth. “If I really do love her ⸺ if that’s even what my feelings actually are ⸺ there’s no way I’d do something stupid, or cause a scandal for her.”

Nodding my agreement, I tried a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure she felt the same way. It wouldn’t be appropriate for her, as a teacher, to respond to your feelings in any other way than turning you down. Maybe she just wanted to save you from that heartache, of being forced to reject you.”

“She should know me better than that,” Reika complained bitterly. “If we were close enough for her to understand how I felt about her, then she should’ve realized that I’d want to protect her more than anything else.”

“She still has her pride as an alpha,” I insisted, recognizing Saeko-san’s determination to be the same as my own. “It’s possible she felt guilty for abandoning you after the surgery.”

Fitting together some of the subtext of Saeko-san’s half-told story, I was beginning to grasp the reality of what had happened. It all made sense: if the nurse helped Reika set up the surgery, but wasn’t around afterward, her pride as an alpha would have eaten away at her, screaming at her that she’d forsaken someone important. I could tell, because I would’ve experienced the same torment, were I in her position.

“That’s so stupid,” Reika whispered, more to herself than anyone else, fighting to secure her grip on her feelings. “I wouldn’t hold it against her. I know what my family’s like ⸺ it never would’ve crossed my mind.”

“Well,” I stated awkwardly, “at least now you know what’s going on with Saeko-san.”

Shifting slightly, Reika unfolded from her kneeling position, turning her back to the bed so that she could lean against it. Sitting on the floor, she drew her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly, my gyaru balling herself up as small as she could possibly become.

“I get it now, yeah,” she sighed, a powerless whimper lurking in her tone. “Now I know what Yoru meant, when she said she didn’t want to see me lose to Kuroyama-sensei’s new girlfriend.”

Yoru and I had both seen that red envelope, picking up on the scent marking the paper. My childhood friend didn’t notice everything, of course ⸺ she couldn’t sense the passion in it, not like I could ⸺ but it was obvious what was going on. Some foreign woman, smelling of brandy and cherries, had been ardently pursuing Saeko-san, snatching her heart away from my gyaru.

Unsure of what to say, I let her sit with her feelings, giving Reika some space to think. Once more, I turned my attention back to Yoru, tending to my sick childhood friend.

Having finished wiping her sweat, I placed a cooling patch on her forehead, hoping it’d give her some relief from her fever. Tucking her back under the covers, drawing them all the way up under her chin, I couldn’t help myself; allowing a moment of self-indulgence, I pressed a kiss against the thin fabric of the patch, whispering my affection.

 

In Sickness, and in Wealth

---

I sat together with Reika until the sunlight died completely, its rays no longer filtering in through the blinds.

Wordlessly, we shared this quiet space, my gyaru leaning against my shoulder for support. Desperate to provide her some kind of comfort, I longed to be able to break the silence, to tell her something profound that would make everything okay, that would drive away all her worries.

Sadly, it was never, ever that simple.

Unable to do anything else for my two omegas, I let my eyes wander the room, taking in the sights. It was so disconcerting, seeing my childhood friend’s bedroom in such disarray; a number of boxes were stacked up all around the room, Yoru having packed away a considerable number of her belongings. Hopelessness swam inside me, seizing my heart in an icy grip; I hated this, knowing that the house would one day become completely vacant of my first love. I didn’t know if I could handle that moment, when a stranger finally made this room their home, obliterating the years of pleasant memories I’d shared.

This intolerable emptiness stretched out between us for almost an hour, broken only by the sudden appearance of Yoru’s mother.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Hoshino-san said, smiling gently as she let herself into the room.

“Not at all,” I replied smoothly, covering for the dismal mood of my gyaru. “Yoru finally calmed down a little, so we’ve been letting her rest.”

“You’re such dedicated girlfriends,” Hoshino-san grinned, delighted by our show of care for her daughter. “I already said this to Saya-chan earlier, Reika-chan, but it makes me very happy to know my Yoru has such capable young women by her side.”

“It’s nothing,” Reika answered, totally distant; withdrawn into herself, she acted on autopilot, barely aware of her surroundings. “Thank you for letting us care for your daughter.”

Reika had spent so much effort trying to convince me that a threesome was possible, that it surprised me when Hoshino-san’s assertion hadn’t inspired a bigger reaction. I assumed my gyaru would’ve been thrilled to hear that Yoru’s mother had given both of us tacit permission to date her daughter ⸺ at the same time, even. Perhaps the realization just hadn’t hit her, yet, and I would have to suffer her being smug about it sometime later.

“My goodness, though,” Hoshino-san remarked, looking around at all the repurposed cardboard containers, “what else have you been up to? Did Yoru ask you to take more of her things over to the dorm?”

“I think she was trying to be considerate, in her own way,” I explained, stepping in for my feverish omega.

“Considerate of what?” Hoshino-shan asked, looking puzzled.

“I don’t know if you’ve told her about the house or not yet,” I continued, “but she wanted to have all her things packed ahead of time, so that you wouldn’t need to do it for her.”

Despite my clarification, she only grew more confused, her brows furrowing as she tried to understand what I meant.

“What about the house?” she said, sounding completely lost. “Why would I need to pack up Yoru’s room?”

“Y’know,” I answered, feeling just as baffled as Yoru’s mother, “the house sale. I’m sorry for discussing it behind your back, but Yoru’s already spoken to us about your money troubles.”

Hoshino-san looked at me like I was speaking a completely different language, an expression of disbelief plastered over her face.

“Things are a little tight,” she admitted, “but not bad enough to sell the house over.” Putting a finger to her lips, she mulled it over for a moment, before adding some more context. “Although, maybe if I hadn’t gotten a promotion over my handling of Kazimir-san’s account, I might have considered it.”

Mention of her father’s name was enough to snap Reika out of her introspection, clarity shining once more in her ruby-red eyes.

“Have things been going well with Kazimir-san?” Reika asked innocently, a neutral expression on her face. I knew her well enough by now to notice the simmering fury lurking in her attentive stare; it crackled in the air around her, reflected in her pheromones.

“Very much so,” Hoshino-san replied, still in high spirits despite the odd conversation. “He’s one of the easiest clients to work with, if I’m being honest. The size of his portfolio is important to the company, naturally, but I don’t feel like I did anything special to deserve the promotion ⸺ I think anyone could’ve handled Kazimir-san’s business with little issue.”

Stealthily, I shot a glance at Reika, hoping to verify the veracity of Hoshino-san’s statement. My gyaru confirmed my suspicions with the slight shake of her head, implying there was something a little more special about Yoru’s mother than just being a good salesperson.

“He didn’t strike me as much of a conversationalist,” I added, taking my chance to express my displeasure, however mildly. Our first meeting had gone rather poorly, and it still left a disgusting taste in my mouth. I could understand germophobia, but Reika’s father seemed to detest my presence more than anything I might have had on my hand.

“Kazimir-san is a little reserved when meeting new people, yes,” Hoshino-san allowed, ignoring the uncharitable tone in my voice. “I initially had a little trouble getting over the communication barrier, but he really opened up after we learned we were both single parents.”

An imperceptible change shrouded Reika’s face, noticeable only in the irritable spice afflicting the smell of flower candy that wreathed the room. Jaw clenched, a darkness passed in front of my gyaru’s eyes, shielding her.

“Did he tell you about his son?” she asked, feigning nonchalance.

Yoru’s mother nodded, a sympathetic look on her face. “It was a very sad story, yes. Naturally, I’d done some research on him ahead of time, so I wasn’t surprised ⸺ but it’s one thing to read about what happened, and another thing entirely to hear such a tragic tale from the man himself.”

Feeling left out of the loop, I tried to get a little more context, stepping lightly around what had to be a sensitive topic for Reika.

“What happened to his kid?” I asked, leaving my question gender-neutral out of respect for the tall blonde.

“It’s not really something we should be gossiping about,” Hoshino-san said, lightly reprimanding me, “but I suppose it wouldn’t do any harm to tell you, since Reika-chan knows the story anyway.”

“Yeah,” Reika agreed, her terse syllables fraught with repressed emotion. “The rest of us in the family already heard about it after it happened.”

“That makes me curious, though, Reika-chan,” Hoshino-san interjected, delaying her explanation. “What’s your relationship to Kazimir-san? I’ve been wondering about it ever since we were first introduced.”

“I’m his niece,” Reika answered, lying without hesitation, her affect devoid of any obvious tells. “I’m his older sister’s favorite, even if they don’t talk about me very often.”

“Ah, I see,” Hoshino-san smiled, obliviously accepting the falsehood without digging any deeper. “I feel a little silly for introducing you at the shrine, then,” she laughed, staying a perpetual bastion of good humor.

“It’s alright,” Reika smiled, adopting her customary facade. “Uncle Kazimir doesn’t get along very well with my mom. They’ve always had a big case of sibling rivalry, you see ⸺ but after the big fight at the hospital, things soured even worse from there.”

“Hospital?” I interjected, casting worried glances in the taller girl’s direction.

“Kazimir-san’s son fell ill two years ago,” Hoshino-san explained, her motherly concern obvious in her soothing tone. “I don’t know the specifics, but it sounded very serious, bad enough to permanently disfigure him. He’s been bedridden ever since, according to Kazimir-san.”

“That’s horrible,” I said, suppressing an angry snarl, my comment more for Reika’s sake than for Yoru’s mother.

“Very much so,” Hoshino-san agreed, missing my intention. “In a way, it makes me feel relieved, that Yoru has always been in such good health ⸺ well, not counting her seasonal flu, obviously.”

“Yeah,” I agreed numbly, unsure of what to say.

The mood in the air felt so heavy, weighing down the atmosphere. This had to be such an awful conversation for Reika to be having, but it did elucidate a few things. If we wanted to keep Kazimir-san away from Yoru’s mother, we’d need information that we could leverage. It probably hurt my gyaru to have this particular fact exposed, but knowing that Kazimir-san was so ashamed of Reika that he would fabricate a false narrative about her, was definitely an important revelation. Of course, I had no clue how we could exploit that, at least not now, but it was something.

“Is there anything you need from us?” Reika asked, deftly shifting away from such a depressing topic.

“Not exactly,” Hoshino-san smiled, “but it would help me greatly if you could do me a small favor.”

“Anything,” I replied readily, already acquiescing to her request.

“I need to go out for the evening,” she started, her words carrying a hint of guilt; her eyes drifted over to Yoru’s sleeping form, a worried frown creasing the corners of her mouth. “I don’t want to leave my daughter alone, however, in case she needs anything.”

“Don’t worry,” I said reassuringly, “I’m happy to stay and look after her ⸺ I was planning on it anyway.”

“Is this that ‘alpha chivalry’ I’ve been hearing about?” Hoshino-san laughed, her mood bolstered by my assertion. “When your Mama first told me about it, I assumed it was just a little ribbing at her wife’s expense.”

“Something like that,” I replied, returning her smile, my cheeks burning a bright peach color.

“There’s no need to be so embarrassed,” she said soothingly. “Lots of girls would feel lucky to have such a reliable protector around.”

“I’m doing my best,” I mumbled, my blush only worsening.

“That’s all I can ask,” she giggled, making for the door. “Thank you so much, girls. Saya-chan has my number if anything happens, so don’t hesitate to call; I’ll pick up right away.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Reika added, faking a brighter expression than she felt. “We’ll handle everything.”

 

Living Someone Else’s Life

---

A little while later, Reika and I stood together in the kitchen.

Ostensibly, we were here to make something for Yoru, an easily-digestible meal that would help keep her strength up. Of course, that was part of it, too ⸺ but I had another goal in mind.

At Reika’s size and mass, she burned a surprising number of calories by simply existing. It wasn’t as much as say, a wrestler, or a body-builder or something like that, but it definitely gave her quite a bit of an appetite. If I asked her, certainly she would tell me to focus on Yoru, dedicating herself to affectionate altruism, but I’d heard her stomach growling after sex enough times by now to know what she might like.

Moving my hands almost on instinct, I steadily worked through all the motions that Mom had trained me to do. Mama could cook fairly well when she wanted to, but Mom really delighted in inhabiting a “housewife” role whenever the two of them weren’t at work. In grade school, she always packed me a lunch ⸺ with extra, in case I needed (or wanted) to share with Yoru.

This was the one technique I was willing to share with my sister, despite my desire to be nothing like her. Even when it came to martial arts, the two of us were involved in different schools entirely, my sister favoring a more strike-focused style. We were as separate as I could make us, and yet I couldn’t erase that nagging feeling that we were merely two sides of the same coin. It was inevitable to an extent, given that we shared the same parents and roughly the same upbringing ⸺ and, once I added in the fact that we were both alphas, it became harder and harder to distinguish myself.

Grumbling to myself, I busied my hands with making a number of small dishes, passing portions of them to Reika for “quality assurance”.

“Are you going to just complain the whole time?” she asked, sounding irritable.

Setting down the utensils in my hand, I fixed her with a contentious glare.

“And what, exactly, do you think I’m complaining about?” I shot back, deciding to let her work out whatever she was holding in. As much as I didn’t want to fight with my gyaru, sometimes it helped to let things out ⸺ even if this was the line we usually followed to the bedroom.

“All the stuff upstairs,” she mumbled guiltily, avoiding eye contact. “Like, not telling you about my family, and like, lying to Kyouko-chan, and all that.”

“‘Kyouko-chan’?” I echoed, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

I hadn't ever thought of Reika as the MILF-hunting type, even if I agreed with her assessment of Hoshino-san's attractiveness. Still, there was a proper order to this kind of thing; it was more than a little bold of her to be chasing an elusive taste of oyakodon.

“Sorry, yeah,” she replied reflexively, misunderstanding my query. “I know it’s a bad habit, but after enough interaction it’s just, like, I don’t know, easier to call mothers by their first names. And it’s not like they mind, usually, y’know?” She shrugged, brushing off her strange statement. “Makes them feel younger or whatever, if I’m a little flirty.”

“You never talk to my parents like that,” I pointed out, unsure of what I was trying to uncover.

“Well yeah,” she continued in an unaffected tone, “but that’s just because you were never in trouble, so I never needed to see your ….” She trailed off, an uncomfortable grimace forming on her face.

“‘Never needed to see’ my what?” I prompted, wondering where this would lead.

“... I never needed to see your parents at my office,” she finished, looking just as puzzled as me.

Her words hung in the air between us, a complicated mess of a revelation. I had no idea what they meant, but it irritated that same worried thought I’d been having since New Year’s, when I’d had that sense of déjà vu over Mama’s coffee.

“Reika,” I started hesitantly, staying conscientious of my gyaru’s feelings, “I’m sure you already know what I’m going to ask you, but I have some questions that I’d like to talk with you about.”

Even as the words left my mouth, I watched her fold into herself, becoming more guarded. Crossing her arms under her bust, she looked down and away, her shoulders slumping as she tried to de-emphasize her height. Were she able to, I’m sure my gyaru would simply disappear into the wallpaper, rather than deal with the situation in front of her.

“I don’t know, Sayacchi,” she whispered, becoming that demure, precious creature once more. “I’m just, like … ⸺ it’s scary, alright? I feel like if we talk about it, something bad is gonna happen.” Lifting her gaze just slightly, she looked at me with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen. “I’m worried it’ll make you hate me.”

Shaking my head, I turned the heat down on everything, leaving us some time to talk.

“We’ve had conversations like this before,” I said soothingly, forcing myself not to become argumentative. “I’ve never hated you after any of those, right?”

“Sure, I guess,” she allowed, unconvinced of my broader point. “But those were all about things that don’t matter ⸺ Courtney, and his girlfriend, and whatever else.”

Her hesitation was plain on her face, my gyaru shifting back and forth, anxiously rocking from side to side. I hated the idea of trying to force this out of her; after all, I wasn’t really sure what I was doing. Usually, people suppressed memories for a reason, and my meddling might end up doing more harm than good.

But I couldn’t just let this chance slip away; as her alpha, she was my responsibility, and anything she concealed ⸺ knowingly or not ⸺ could hurt my other omega as well. If I wanted to look after both of them, I’d have to get to the bottom of this.

“It’ll be okay,” I assured her, moving closer, approaching her space. Like a frightened kitten, she backed away from me, forcing me to halt my advance. “Whatever is going on, the two of us can figure it out.”

“What if I don’t want to?” she asked in a small voice, still looking away. “Whenever this … whatever it is comes up, it makes me feel all these horrible things. It's like some creature is crawling around in my insides, trying to force its way up into my head.” Allowing me a pleading look, her half-smile failed to conceal her terror. “It makes me feel like I’m gonna puke, Sayacchi. I’d rather ride a dozen rollercoasters than talk about it.”

“I’m not some kind of sadist,” I said, struggling to find a way to get Reika to open up. I offered her a conciliatory smile, wondering exactly how much good it would do. “I just want to help. If things start getting bad, we can stop right away, okay? I won’t force you to talk about it.”

Unconvinced, my gyaru continued to withdraw from me, taking a step back. It broke my heart to see her like this; I felt so powerless, wanting to take away this fear of hers, but having no idea how to achieve that.

“I like things the way they are now,” she insisted, looking for an excuse to run away. “I like what we have between us. I don’t want to risk that, just to figure out why I say and think weird shit all the time. It’s not worth it, not to me.”

“What are you going to do if it happens later, then? Some other time, when it’s out of your control.” I wanted so badly to wrap my arms around her, to show her that it was going to be okay, but I couldn’t risk driving her even further away. Instead, I contented myself with marking her, bathing her in an aura of comforting lilies. “At least with me, you’ll be safe. I’ll protect you.”

“Please, Sayacchi,” she begged, “let’s just drop it. Let’s just pretend that none of this ever happened ⸺ we can talk about my family, or Rucchan, or anything else you want.”

“What I want to do is help you,” I persisted, brushing past her bargaining. “Please, trust me, Reika. I would never let anything bad happen to you.”

“Yeah?” she scoffed, unconvinced. “And how am I supposed to believe that? How do I know that this is for my sake, and not just you trying to shield Rucchan?”

Pushing down on the sharp feeling in my chest, I did my best to ignore her hurtful words. It wasn’t her fault that she was so scared ⸺ she didn’t mean to push me away, not really. I knew how hard it was to be honest, especially with the people you loved; I’d seen Yoru struggle with it repeatedly, never seeming to learn anything.

But I knew I could be more stubborn than either of them. No matter how many times it took, I’d have any number of these conversations, until my girls could finally feel completely safe around me.

“Because you’re important to me, Reika,” I said with quiet determination, suffusing my words with all the sincerity I possessed. “I care about what happens to you. I promise I would never let anything bad happen to my omega ⸺ I’m not that careless of an alpha.”

Catching on to an ironic humor I had missed, her frown twisted into a wry half-smile.

“Are you saying that you think of yourself as my alpha?” she asked, some of the frantic anxiety bleeding out of her voice, arresting her nervous fidgeting.

It was a secret I hadn’t intended to divulge, or at least not yet, but there was no use trying to cover it up. After the last few weeks together, trying to claim anything else would just cheapen my feelings, undermining the promise I was trying to make to my gyaru. Swallowing my pride, I nodded slowly.

“I do,” I admitted, my voice cracking under the immense pressure that her question had built up. “I know it’s extremely presumptuous of me, but after what happened between us at the shrine … ⸺ yeah. I want to be your alpha, Reika.”

Shocked by my confession, Reika’s mask shattered into a thousand pieces, revealing my demure, honest girl. Standing a little straighter, she turned her eyes away from me again ⸺ but I could see the slight grin on her face, and the playful excitement glittering in her ruby-red irises.

“Don’t be stupid, Sayacchi,” she scolded, dismissing her own delight along with my words. “You’re supposed to be going after Rucchan.”

“I still am,” I insisted, deflecting her hesitation with my honesty. “I plan to do whatever it takes to get Yoru to look my way, and finally get her to call me her girlfriend.”

“Yeah, obviously, so you don’t need to ⸺”

“But my feelings for Yoru having nothing to do with wanting to protect you,” I said, breezing past her infuriating tenacity. “I can still love Yoru, and be your alpha. Maybe that makes me a little greedy, but I don’t care; you’re too important to me to lose, Reika.”

Finally, my gyaru’s walls broke down, her obstinance crumbling under my unwavering affection. Her lower lip trembling, she took a halting step towards me, overly-conscious of her size; unwilling to allow her to lose herself in her self-hatred, I rushed to embrace her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I cradled her head with my free hand, letting her press her face against the crook of my neck.

“Sayacchi,” she mewled, the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry ⸺ I’m so, so sorry.”

Permitting herself to be small, she ringed her arms around my neck, sobbing a litany of apologies against my skin.

“It’s okay,” I whispered soothingly, hugging her close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

 

---

 

After Reika had finally calmed down, we found ourselves in Yoru’s room once more.

Very little had changed, my childhood friend still tossing and turning. With Reika’s assistance, we managed to change her out of her sweat-stained uniform, dressing her in some fresh pajamas; it seemed to help, comforting Yoru enough to allow her to sleep a little less fitfully.

Deciding to leave her meal on the nightstand, we covered it with some plastic wrap, placing a fresh bottle of tea next to it; that way, if we had to be out of the room again, she could at least help herself.

Having provided for my love, I turned my attention back to my other omega.

Reika had stayed docile after she’d finished crying out her feelings, following me around with a muted expression. Once again, we sat on the floor together, leaning our backs against the mattress. My gyaru had pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly, but this time she seemed much-less guarded, staying present with me in the moment.

“Where do you want to start?” she finally asked, breaking the silence that had stretched between us.

“Where do you think we should start?” I echoed, returning her question.

“I don’t know,” she sighed in exasperation. “It’s not like any of this is categorized, or tagged or anything like that. Like I’ve said before, it’s just a bunch of impressions, little half-memories, that most of the time have nothing to do with each other.”

She might have been sandbagging still, given her attitude downstairs, but sooner or later we’d have to attack this problem. If Reika couldn’t give me a useful beginning, then I’d need to create a foundation we could build on.

“I’ll lay out some of the facts that I have,” I started, taking over for her, “and then we can build on those as you remember things.”

“I guess that sounds fair,” she acknowledged, agreeing to my almost-plan.

Holding up a hand, I enumerated all of the details that had been bothering me, the scattered scraps of hints that Reika had unwittingly provided.

“We know you like coffee,” I began, “because you used to work late, possibly at some kind of school.”

“Where I met Kyouko-chan several times,” she added helpfully. “And probably Courtney, too, since I keep thinking of him as ‘Courtney’ and not, like, ‘Mr. Desjardins’ or ‘Uncle Courtney’ or something.”

“Exactly,” I agreed. “We know you’ve never been overseas, so we can safely assume you haven’t met Desjardins-sensei through conventional means.”

“I guess that complicates all of this ‘Saeko’ mumbling I’ve been doing, too,” Reika continued, furthering her introspection. “Maybe those memories are from before the surgery, but I guess I can’t discount the possibility that they’re mixed-up with Courtney somehow, too.”

“And, most-importantly,” I said, summarizing the key detail, “all of these facts are past-tense.”

It was a small thing on the surface of it, but it hinted at a distressing depth. Obviously, these weren’t the kind of facts that could apply to a middle schooler, suggesting that Reika might share something in common with Yoru.

“Like remembering the future, or something,” Reika mumbled, agitated with our discovery.

“Or, more likely, a parallel past,” I suggested, broaching the subject that neither of us really wanted to uncover.

“Just like Rucchan,” Reika finished for me, sounding more miserable the further we went.

After experiencing one miracle of parallel rebirth, it made the second one slightly-easier to believe, even if it still sounded far too fantastical. From the way Yoru had described her interaction with the reaper, there could have been any number of parallel worlds, different timelines that my childhood friend could exist in. As long as they were going through the trouble to graft a bespoke timeline onto the reality trunk, it made a certain kind of sense to allow other wish-havers in alongside her.

“So does that mean you, like …” I started, then stopped, quickly thinking better of it.

“... Remember dying?” she tried, understanding me better than I thought.

“Yeah,” I nodded, feeling guilty.

“Not at all,” she answered smoothly, her golden hair tossing back and forth as she shook her head. “I mean, I barely remember anything about my life before having the surgery, so like, trying to separate that from another lifetime is crazy-difficult.” She flashed a grin at me, projecting a stoicism that I knew she didn’t actually feel. “I bet it was something totally cool though, like one of those sick car chases, or maybe an awesome gunfight.”

I hit her with a side-eyed glance, my voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. “Isn’t a gunfight an odd activity for a school staffer to be engaged in?”

“You don’t know,” Reika insisted, committing to the bit. “What if I was also like, a secret assassin on top of it?”

“Oh come on,” I moaned, rolling my eyes.

“It’s the perfect cover, Sayacchi,” she giggled, trying to distract me with one of her wild fantasies. “No one would ever suspect a school counselor of having been trained as a ruthless killer.”

“Are you a movie hero now?” I laughed, shaking my head at her absurdity.

“Just when I thought I’d finally left that life behind me,” Reika intoned gravely, mimicking the gravel-y affect of an action star, “they had to pull me back in for one last job.”

As much as she wanted to present a confident facade, I could feel her fear lurking beneath. If she really had been granted a second chance like Yoru’s, then there was no way her death had been anything close to pleasant. Rebirth was for tortured souls, not those who had achieved happiness in their lifetime.

“Putting that aside for now,” I said, cognizant of her vulnerability, “let’s try to think of some serious answers, okay?”

“They were serious,” Reika pouted, the little whine in her voice sounding almost credible.

As fun as it was to indulge in my omega’s little diversions, her deflection and misdirection would only get worse the longer it went on. I had to corral her back to the topic at hand, even if it required a leash.

“What was that you said about ‘student counselor’?” I prodded, ignoring her childish games. “Is that just a guess, or did you think of something that substantiates it?”

“I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it?” Reika pondered, tapping a finger against her soft lips. “It’s a job with its own school office, that would interact fairly regularly with other teachers ⸺ like Courtney, say ⸺ and possibly the school nurse, too.”

“A student counselor would also have a very good reason to have frequent communication with parents, as well,” I mused, catching on to where my gyaru was going with her point. “Especially the mothers of ‘problem students’.”

“Like a post-divorce, self-repressed lesbian?” Reika asked, floating the idea we were both thinking.

“Obviously I don’t know everything about Yoru’s first life,” I hedged, nodding my overall agreement, “but it seems to me, that a well-adjusted highschooler would’ve been a lot better at making smart life choices.”

It felt a little mean to be so judgemental of Yoru’s personal development, but being objective meant acknowledging her flaws. As much as I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, piecing together an accurate picture of the past would require some brutal honesty.

“I’m with you on that,” Reika allowed, “but are we sure that I’m from the same timeline?”

“That’s a reasonable question,” I nodded, “but it’s not worth answering, I think.”

“How do you figure?” she asked, a little taken aback.

“I’m of the opinion that the end result is more important than the question,” I started, working through my conjectural theory. “If you were sent to this timeline, and it was in a response to a wish, then it doesn’t matter where you originated from ⸺ your wish had to have included something involving the Yoru we have here.”

“Ah,” Reika exclaimed softly, catching on quickly. “You’re suggesting that either we’re from the same past, or my wish required this specific version of Rucchan.”

“Both options are indistinguishable enough, that I don’t feel there’s any difference between them,” I asserted, underlining my thoughts with excitable hand gestures. “It’s like having two math problems that reduce down to the same answer ⸺ they’re identical, even if they’re technically different.”

“I suppose,” she said, answering with a noncommittal agreement.

“Clearly Yoru ⸺ this Yoru, I mean, the one in this world ⸺ meant something to you in your parallel life,” I continued, pressing the issue. “That’s the two points I’m sure on: our Yoru matters to you, and so does Saeko-san.”

“That makes sense,” she muttered, following along.

“The thing I’m unclear on is whether it’s this Saeko-san, or the past one that’s important to you.” Struggling to build up to my point, I staggered over this stumbling block. “Or maybe it’s both? I don’t think she’s also been rebirthed, so we can’t discount the possibility that maybe you’re projecting your feelings for the past woman onto the current one.”

Sitting quietly, my gyaru barely acknowledged what I’d said; out of the corner of my eye, I could tell that she’d nodded, but she seemed to be concentrating on something else.

“Without being able to separate your memories from then and now,” I pressed on, growing unsure of myself, “I don’t think we’ll be able to tell which it is ⸺ but that’s just repeating my argument from earlier. If two things are indistinguishable, then they’re functionally identical.”

I stole a glance at Reika, checking for an expression of understanding. To my surprise, she simply stared straight ahead, her eyes focused on nothing in particular.

Deciding to let her sit for a moment, I turned to watch her. My point wasn’t difficult to understand, and I was certain she’d grasped it ⸺ but it did nothing for her. The mask of her face wasn’t concentrated in deep thought; instead, it was simply empty, sinking into a void.

“Reika?” I tried, hoping to pull her out of whatever she’d slipped into.

“Mn?” she mumbled indistinctly, sitting motionless.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Mn.” she agreed. Rocking forward, she rested her chin on her knees, still gazing out into a realm that I couldn’t see.

“Could you repeat it back to me?” I asked, a frustrated irritation creeping into my voice.

“Mn.”

I hadn’t been expecting to hit a roadblock so soon, but it had to be inevitable nonetheless. A dispassionate observer, it was easy for me to simply play pretend, offering an endless number of conjectural theories. To me, Reika’s past was nothing more than a puzzle to be solved; for my omega, however, this represented an entire lifetime, one of three distinct “eras” for her: the alternate past, her pre-surgery memories, and the life she was living out in front of me. Keeping those three things separate ⸺ or rather, trying to reconcile them ⸺ had to be an unfathomably difficult experience.

Scooting over until our hips bumped together, I leaned into my tall gyaru. Sliding my arm around her shoulders, I squeezed her arm affectionately, offering her a soft reminder of my presence.

“Do you want to stop?” I asked hesitantly, tamping down on my insatiable curiosity.

“It’s not that,” she sighed, relaxing only slightly. She was present now, I could tell ⸺ but there was a wildness to her eyes, a strenuous tension in her affect. It was like she had to force herself to make a human expression, the effort of holding a conversation becoming a suddenly-unfamiliar skill.

Chewing my bottom lip, I felt a nervous energy rise up from my core, my concern for my omega exacerbating that distant feeling of guilt inside me.

“What’s going on?” Placing my other hand on her knee, I drew her even closer, trying to become that confident alpha that I knew she needed.

“It’s just … strange,” she mumbled, her words loose, her tone drifting through a complicated sieve of emotions. “On some level, I understand that these events are connected to me, connected to a life I’ve lived ⸺ but it feels like we’re talking about an anime character, or a video game, and not the real world.” Her head fell back, resting against the mattress. She closed her eyes, screwing them shut; it was like she could barely focus on the moment, my gyaru forcing herself to remain present. “The more we talk about it, the more the concept of ‘me’ I have in my head just starts to … melt, or something. It’s getting hazier and hazier, the more I think about it ⸺ like, are these memories even mine?”

“Reika ….” I started, trailing off before I could find any words of comfort.

“Like, is ‘Reika’ even a new name?” she laughed, a mirthless sound, like sand drifting through an hourglass. “When I woke up from the surgery, writing my name was like … ⸺ it was like the first real choice I had in this life. After putting up with my father’s bullshit for a decade and a half, it was finally something I had control over, something new ⸺ something I could look forward to, a target to aim my life at.”

She shifted again, her head rolling gently to the side; she rested it against mine, leaning on me for support. Happy to accept her, I let her weight slump against me, holding her in my protective embrace.

“Now, though,” she continued, a frustrated self-loathing simmering in her husky baritone, “can I even be sure it was something I chose at all? What if I’m just repeating that first life of mine, the one that was fucking miserable enough that they let me have a second go at it?” That bitter laugh reasserted itself, an uncomfortable rattling noise. “Without that brand-new start from zero, I’m just … ⸺ I feel like I’m heading for disaster again. I’m worried that, like, I’m going to become something worthless.”

“You’re not worthless,” I protested, an uneasy growl lurking behind my fangs.

“How do you know?” she asked, a hopeless certainty frozen on her tongue. “I’m the rejected scion of an influential family ⸺ my existence is so pointless that even that wretched monster of a man won’t recognize me as his own child. I’m not even a citizen of the country I live in.” Taking a deep breath, she let it hiss out between her teeth, a cloud of violent self-debasement. “The women I love either won’t look my way, or I can’t even fucking remember them properly ⸺ like, who the fuck is Saeko anyway? And what the hell does Courtney have to do with me?”

Unable to provide any answers, I stayed quiet; my speechlessness seemed to me to be some kind of betrayal, a failing of my duty as an alpha. In that moment, a horrible self-hatred blossomed in my chest, as I grew furious with myself for being too young, too inexperienced to help the two older women that I loved.

“Have I lost twice, already? Once to Courtney’s marriage with Saeko in the past, and now once to whoever her new girlfriend is.” The corners of her mouth turned up into a wry smile, but there was no joy in it. “Hell, this is gonna sound, like, crazy-stupid, but I’ve probably lost Rucchan twice now, too ⸺ and I probably deserve to, if I was romantically interested in her as her school counselor. Let’s face it, Sayacchi ⸺ I’m an enormous collection of losses, a stupid gorilla that’s too big and useless to fit into anyone’s life.”

“You don’t know that,” I protested, certain I had to be pouting like a petulant child; my own abilities grated against my nerves, keeping me from becoming that rock of stability that Reika needed. “You don’t know any of that for sure.”

“I do,” she stated confidently, assured of her own inadequacy. “We have the proof, y’know? I have an entire other lifetime of memories, and I don’t even know what any of them actually are. I’m enough of a failure to need a second chance, and I’m still blowing it.”

“You’re not,” I snapped back, unwilling to let her slide into a bottomless well of self-deprecation. “You’re a first-year in highschool, Reika. That’s like fifteen percent of a life ⸺ you’ve barely even started.”

“Sayacchi ⸺”

“No,” I growled, refusing to allow her to continue down this path. “I’m not letting you smooth-talk your way out of this. Nothing you say is going to convince me that you’re worthless ⸺ I wouldn’t fall in love with someone with no redeeming qualities, and neither would Yoru, or Saeko-san.”

“S-sayacchi,” she stammered again, trying to interject.

“Shut up!” I hissed, doubling-down, leaving no space for her to wedge an argument into. “I’m not going to sit here and let you insult someone I care about.”

Swinging my body around, I pushed her knees down, forcing open a space. Crawling into her lap, I held her down with my body, catching her between myself and the wall of the mattress. Pinning her, I stared deep into her ruby-red eyes, demanding that she look back at me in turn.

“I’m your alpha, do you understand?” Snarling at her, I bared my fangs, commanding obedience. “You’re mine, Reika ⸺ you’re mine. I won’t let anyone degrade the women I love, not even you.”

Straddling her thighs, my hands gripping her shoulders tightly, I rose up in her vision, towering over her. Looking down on my omega, I exerted all the force I could bring to bear, cowing her obstinance.

My gyaru simply sat there, stunned, staring back at me, her mouth agape in something resembling awe. A fierce blush colored her face, flushing all the way down to her shoulders, my omega trembling in my grip.

“Sayacchi,” she whined for the third time, conciliatory wet pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“What is it, my beautiful little omega?” I purred, asserting myself, displaying my coerced dominance.

Whimpering, Reika shifted underneath me, wriggling like she was trying to escape, or perhaps hide herself. Unwilling to allow her that much, I held her still, forcing obedience. It pained me to be so aggressive in demonstrating this lesson, but I had to stay firm; I needed to teach her what our relationship was going to be.

Anything less, and I wouldn’t be an alpha that she could depend on.

“Sayacchi,” she started hesitantly, a distressed lilt in her voice. “I … ⸺ did you mean to confess to me?”

It was my turn to blush, the bright peach color burning through my cheeks.

“I … ⸺ I’m sorry,” I mumbled, my words catching on my traitorous tongue. “I got ahead of myself.”

Disgusted with myself for even having the thought, I tried to extricate myself from Reika’s lap. Yes, I was in love with Reika ⸺ but that’s not what she needed. She needed me to be her alpha, to be a source of strength to depend on. Just like when we rutted, she counted on me as someone that could comfort her, that could help her stride past her difficulties.

It was selfish of me to foist my one-sided love on her, when she was already struggling with her feelings for Yoru, and her tortured, half-remembered love for Saeko-san. I was supposed to reduce her burdens, not add to them, and yet I’d carelessly dropped this revelation into her lap.

I was such an idiot.

“Since when?” she asked, stopping me before I could dismount, her quiet voice sounding so far away.

“Huh?” I replied stupidly, fidgeting nervously, caught in this awkward halfway point of both holding her down and wanting to escape.

“Since when have you felt like that?” she whispered again. “Since when have you … y’know, l-loved me.”

Turning my face away from her, I stubbornly clung to however little pride I had left, as shattered as it was by my misstep.

“Since New Year’s Eve,” I admitted. “Maybe even before that. After you crawled into my bed with me, after you tried to kiss me, after you forced me to see you … ⸺ I haven’t been able to stop looking at you.”

Staring down at her gorgeous face, I took a moment to drink in the sight of her. Obviously she was beautiful, a preciousness to her that went beyond simply being “pretty”. I knew she hated the size of her body, but to me it was an exciting challenge; I admired her physique, envious of her superior strength. In a way, I was angry with myself for thinking like that, for finding jealousy in something she despised about herself, but it also reinforced my feelings for her. Reika had decried herself as worthless, but every inch of her was a spectacular marvel.

As radiant as she was, my affection for her ran much deeper than that surface level. Despite her self-hatred, I could see beyond that wall she had thrown up, the faults that she tried to hide behind. She was so much more considerate than she claimed to be, evident in her endless compassion for Yoru. That, too, I admired and envied; regardless of what happened, she had never turned her back on my childhood friend, a mistake that I myself had stubbornly made. She was caring, and gracious, staunchly defensive of the people that mattered to her.

She was, in a word, perfect.

Not that idolic perfection, a flawless ideal that was impossible to achieve; nor was she “perfect” through incorrect perception, a label laid across her shoulders in a thoughtless arrogance of worship. No, my gyaru was perfect in the sense that her weaknesses and strengths blended together wonderfully, the latter overcoming the former time and time again. She shone brilliant in my eyes: a blinding, ruby-red diamond, a precious treasure that I longed to possess.

Softer this time, my tenor tinged with embarrassment, I told her the truth.

Shamefully, with shaking hands, I offered her my heart.

“I love you, Reika.”