This chapter is a little short, sorry, been really busy but will try to get to the next chapter as soon as I am able to.
One year ago
“That bastard!” The voice that yelled out belonged to a young male. He looked to be around twenty years old. His originally black hair was bleached an off yellow. He had seven piercings in both of his ears as well as one through his eyebrow and another through his bottom lip. He was currently surrounded by other males around his same age, all of them had the same appearance as him. What one would call a punk. One of the males had a bad expression covering his face.
Growling, the main punk yelled, “Where did he go?” When none of his cohorts answered, he kicked the trash can near him as hard as he was able. “I don’t care if he’s the heir to the clan! We need to find him!”
There was a male holding a hand over his nose, blood ooze between his fingers as he spoke, “He won’t get away with this.”
Across the way, hidden in a small playground, tucked away from sight, was Shouta. He was growing, his knuckles scraped and bleeding.
“Dammit.” He muttered, “What did I do? All I did was tell them to stop scaring the children at the park.”
Beside him, pulling out a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at the blood, was Kurose. His face had no expression whatsoever as he responded, “It’s probably because of the way you said it, young master.”
Shouta’s neck cracked as he snapped back, “What? You’re saying it’s my fault?”
Kurose patted at Shouta’s wounds gently as he nodded, “You did not have to punch them.”
“Are you really saying that Kurose, seriously?” Shouta laughed out loud, running his fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, not caring if he left streaks of blood through it. “That’s hilarious coming from a yakuza.”
Kurose sighed as he finally stopped Shouta’s knuckles from bleeding, “It is not the way your father would have handled it.”
Vehemently, Shouta spit out, “I don’t care how my father would have fixed it.”
“You should learn from him if you’re going to take over.” Kurose told him with a blank face.
His face was beginning to turn red from his anger. Shouta hated this life, and he gated everything about it. He hated that his father sent Kurose with him whenever he left the house. Feeling like a trapped princess, Shouta yelled, “I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t want to.”
“But,” Kurose began, his face softening slightly towards his young ward, “Young master, head wishes to hand it over to you-”
Shouta cut him off, not letting him say another word as he stood up. “Leave me alone Kurose.”
“Ah, young master, wait-” Kurose tried to stop his young master, but Shouta turned around and lashed out with a fist, hitting Kurose directly in the temple, knocking him unconscious.
Unfazed, Shouta simply snorted and walked out of the playground. He was only a few blocks away when he felt a familiar feeling creeping through his gut. His heat was beginning.
Irritated at himself for being an omega, Shouta decided to go to the next nearest playground because the children there would be unaffected by any pheromones that leaked.
After finding a spot in a deserted corner of the playground, Shouta took out three injections of his heat suppressant and took them through his thigh.
The sting of the injections cleared his mind a little and he became tired. Closing his eyes, Shouta listened to the sound of the children playing around him. It was soothing to hear their laughter. Even as Shouta felt his conscious drift from him, a warm, small hand patted his cheek, waking him. He opened his eyes slightly and could see a small child squatting by his face. The child could not have been more than two, He had a set of black curls and amethyst eyes. Those large eyes watched Shouta as he blinked drowsily.
“Otay?” The little voice asked.
The medication running through made his mind slow and he did not understand what the child was saying. “What?” He asked back.
The little child patted Shouta’s face, asking again, “Broder otay?”
Knowing finally what the child was asking, Shouta blinked drowsily, “I’m fine.” Then as he thought about where he was in the corner of the playground, he suddenly became worried for the child. “Where are your parents?”
The child grinned and pointed to a man who was pacing back and forth in the playground, calling out, “Misaki!”
The child giggled when his name was called and waved his pudgy finger at the man, “‘En, dere.”
Oh, he’s over there, Shouta thought groggily. He sighed, but as the man turned towards their direction, calling out Misaki’s name, he froze.
The man was tall with auburn colored hair and eyes that seemed like pyrite as they glittered gold in the sunlight. His hair was as long as Shouta’s, reaching his shoulders and blowing gently in the wind. Even though it was the end of April, it still wasn’t warm enough for shorts. The man was dressed in dark wash jeans that hugged every curve of his legs and accentuated the muscles that lay beneath. His black shirt looked as though it had been tailored just for him, leaving nothing to one’s imagination.
Shouta was still frozen at the sight of Ren and felt his heart beating erratically. At that moment he realized that that man was his mate. He felt it deep within his bones, heard his heart calling out as it made a cacophony of noise within his chest. Terrified of what he was feeling, Shouta breathed in deeply, feeling awake for the first time since he took his medicine. He tapped Misaki on the shoulder, decimated as that bright face gave him and innocent smile.
“Go, go play little one.” Shouta whispered softly.
Misaki nodded and wobbled over to the empty sandbox where he began to play, running his fingers through the dirt completely absorbed. Shouta’s eyes were locked on Ren, watching him as the man finally caught sight of the small child, relief filling his face.
“Misaki,” Ren almost cried when he caught sight of the two year old. He didn’t know what would happen if he lost the child. He was pretty sure Kichirou would make him a dead man. “What are you doing? Wait! Don’t eat the sand! Spit it out! Come on! Drop it. Now come here. You’re all dirty now. Kichirou is going to kill me.”
As Shouta watched the adult and child interact, the cherry blossoms swirled around the park, highlighting the silhouette of the two. Then and there, Shouta saw his future, life, death, wonder, hope. Everything was encased in those cherry blossoms.
“I know what I want for my tattoo.” Shouta whispered, thinking of the tattoo his father wished for him to get.
That night, even with his heat coursing through his system, an omega tattoo artist inked his skin, forever writing out that memory in falling cherry blossoms.