Chapter Text
Hajime
Hajime approached the Crows’ campus, hoping he wasn’t being too obvious about his distaste for the run-down buildings and backwater location. The conversation he needed to have would not go well if he was seen as some academy snob.
Still, he couldn’t believe Kageyama had chosen Karasuno over Aoba Johsai. Instead of taking his spot at a private academy boasting stellar academics, state-of-the-art facilities, not to mention one of the strongest volleyball programs in Miyagi, he’d opted for an underfunded state school full of students who couldn’t get in anywhere else.
Hajime would have guessed it was because the team was famously (scandalously) omega-friendly, indeed home of the most famous omega player not just in Miyagi but all of Japan--Little Giant. But Hajime had a hard time believing it--not of Kageyama. One of their biggest problems with their most problematic player was that he’d always seemed stubbornly, bizarrely indifferent to anything dynamic related. He was functionally scent blind, ignored all nuances of body language, payed no deference to Alphas and showed no affinity for omegas.
No, Tobio’s reason for coming here was far more mundane: Hajime guessed that after deciding he couldn’t stay at Aoba Johsai, Tobio had tried for Shiratorizawa, which had placed first in the prefectural volleyball finals the last three years. Shiratorizawa of course wouldn’t consider someone with his grades, which left Karasuno, which was notorious for having the easiest entry exam in Miyagi, and then requiring only a 40 to pass.
Hajime didn’t want to be here--didn’t want to be doing this. Kageyama had quit Aoba Johsai’s junior team--hadn’t shown up for practices after that disastrous final game. He’d rejected the school, rejected his place on the upper school team. By rights he was Karasuno’s problem now.
If only.
Hajime heard the tell-tale thumps of balls hitting a court, accompanied by shouts of “nice serve” and “good receive.” Unsurprisingly, the gym was as run-down as the rest of campus: his only surprise was that there were only six people total in the gym, playing three on three, with no coach or faculty in sight.
And none of the six was Kageyama.
He felt an unexpected jolt of nausea at the thought that the omega’s disaster with his prior team had made him quit volleyball altogether.
He was distracted by an angry shout of “Oy,” and a second later one of Karasuno’s horrible omegas, Tanaka Ryuunosuke, was up in his face. “Now why would the vice-captain of Aoba Johsai be here, eh?” he growled, twisting his face, like a middle school anime fan trying to imitate a yakuza.
Hajime tried to suppress the instinctive disgust he felt at an omega meeting his eye like this. He’d have said this behavior was because the boy was a Tanaka, but in truth the omega libero, Nishinoya, was even more offensive, and without the excuse of coming from a clan full of criminals.
“Tanaka, stand down,” came a shout from the far side of the net.
The co-captain, omega co-captain, Sugawara, was suddenly there, flooding the area with a soothing omega scent, gently pulling Tanaka away. “Iwaizumi-san, isn’t it?” the omega said sweetly. “What brings Aoba Johsai to our humble campus today?”
On the surface, Sugawara was the only omega on the team who fit the stereotype--gentle, soft-spoken, deferential. But Hajime wasn’t fooled. In his own way, the omega co-captain fit this team as much as Tanaka did. It was an open secret that Sugawara was the real brains behind the team. Hajime knew from personal experience that the omega was observant, calculating and downright Machiavellian when it came to protecting his team.
Fortunately for Hajime, his business was not with the wily omega, but with his Alpha mate, the captain of Karasuno, Sawamura Daichi. Sawamura was certainly not a fool, but the general view was that he was a straight-shooting, uncomplicated Alpha, despite his unconventional team.
“Sawamura,” he nodded to the other captain. “Could I have a word in private?”
“Sure. I had a feeling I might see someone from Aoba Johsai,” he said, not friendly but not unfriendly either. And then to Sugawara, “Run the drills.”
Instead of crossing the yard to the long building that must house the club offices, Sawamura gestured towards the other side of the gym. “I’d invite you to the club office, but there actually aren’t any chairs in there.”
“This is fine.”
“I take it you’re here about Kageyama.”
“Why wasn’t he at practice? You didn’t ban him over this, did you?” He couldn’t quite keep the alarm out of his voice. Kageyama would never willingly miss a practice. Much as Hajime wanted to be rid of Tooru’s problem omega, he didn’t want it at the cost of taking volleyball away from Kageyama. Even setting aside the fact that Tobio was a truly gifted player, Hajime was painfully aware that aside from whatever this mess with Tooru was, the boy had nothing in his life--no friends, no family, no interests or abilities--outside of volleyball. To lose it would destroy him.
“You mean because he’s apparently mated to the captain of our main rival.”
“They’re not mated,” he said quickly.
“And yet he wears Oikawa’s collar,” Sawamura smirked. “I’m not happy about that, but that’s not why he’s not at practice. We had an issue with him and another first year. I gave them a week to work out their differences if they want on the team.”
“An Alpha?” he asked. Karasuno might be weirdly pro-omega, but Hajime couldn’t fathom a team that wouldn’t favor an Alpha player over an omega, especially an omega as difficult as Tobio.
“Another omega.”
So not the worst-case scenario, but seriously, how did Kageyama manage something like this? It was literally the first day of school. “Fuck, Tobio,” he groaned.
“You seem to assume it would be his fault.”
“It wasn’t?” That was new. There wasn’t a single player at Aoba Johsai lower, and few enough at upper, that Kageyama hadn’t reamed out. The omega was practically a feral.
Sawamura shook his head. “I know what people say about us, and our omegas, and I grant we may seem a bit unconventional, but this is still a sports team. I have no problem with arguments and debates or omegas who look me in the eye, but I won’t be shouted down by my own players, whatever their year or dynamic, and I won’t tolerate total chaos.”
That sounded about right--Nishinoya and Tanaka seemed incapable of speaking at any volume short of ear-splitting, but it was obvious both worshipped Sawamura--and Sugawara.
“Understood,” he said. He debated with himself a moment, and then decided to trust Sawamura to take it the right way. “I won’t tell you how to run your team, and swear I don’t mean this as a threat, but if you don’t take Kageyama, it will be the biggest mistake you will ever make as a captain.”
“Will it?”
“I’ve watched your team grow, watched how you’ve held together and improved even after you lost Ukai-sensei. It’s obvious you’ve been working to get to Nationals, and I’m telling you Kageyama is your best shot.”
“If we’re at Nationals that means Aoba Johsai won’t be.”
“We have every intention of going. Kageyama is still a first year, and good as he is, he can’t do what our setter can. But I’m telling you the truth: he is your best chance.”
“Your setter, whose collar he wears--almost as if your captain mated a junior high kid two years younger than he is.”
“I don’t know what you take me for, Sawamura,” he growled, aggression flaring, “but I know you’ve never heard a single fucking thing about me or Aoba Johsai that would make you think we’d tolerate something like that. Every omega in Japan who plays in an interscholastic league wears a collar from their captain.”
“A collar which is supposed to be removed when they leave the team, let alone change schools.”
“And that’s what will happen with Tanaka and Nishinoya?” he said pointedly.
“Point taken, but they are part of my pack, or will be once we’re official--it’s all but the bite at this point. Are you claiming Kageyama is part of the Oikawas? Because if he is, he should be with the rest of that pack at Aoba Johsai, and he definitely doesn’t belong on my team.”
“It’s not that simple--I wish it were.”
“Then explain it to me.” It was obvious he wasn’t going to tolerate being given the run-around.
“Kageyama presented late, and the development was, to say the least, unexpected. Omegas at Aoba Johsai don’t play on teams with Alphas, but coach agreed to make an exception for Kageyama.”
“Irihata? He filed a protest when Ukai made clear Little Giant would be starting for Karasuno in League games.”
“That should tell you how promising Kageyama is.”
“So I still don’t understand why he isn’t there.”
“Oikawa offered him the collar so he could stay on the team. I don’t understand what happened, nobody does, but it triggered something--from Kageyama or Oikawa isn’t clear.”
“A mating bond?”
It would be easier if Hajime could gloss over the reality, but he had a feeling Sawamura wouldn’t forgive it if he obfuscated, and chances were the moment he saw Tooru and Kageyama together he--or more likely Sugawara--would get that the usual Alpha captain/omega player dynamic could not have caused this.
Honestly, only two people as fucked up and impossible as Tooru and Tobio could produce a disaster on this scale. “I don’t know--sometimes if feels like that, though how you get a mating bond without a bite or sex or anything else beats me.” Hajime cut himself off before he started in on superstitions like True Mates. Leave that to the writers of trashy romances and shojo manga.
Before Sawamura could open his mouth to demand yet again why Tobio wasn’t at Aoba Johsai, he continued, “Whatever caused it, it’s not a good situation. I can’t pretend to understand what goes through their heads, but no question the relationship is toxic.”
“It seems like there is a very straightforward solution to that,” Sawamura said sharply.
“Believe me, if it were an option it would have happened months ago.” Again, he really wished he could leave this part out, but given how bitterly Tobio had complained, there was no keeping it hidden. Furious as Hajime was at Tooru almost constantly these days, he did not want him to get beaten up by the Karasuno Alphas. The Ace, Azumane, was built like a yakuza enforcer, and Sawamura might come off as easygoing, but he was one of the more powerful Alphas of any age that Hajime had dealt with.
“I’ll be up front: Kageyama demanded he take it back, but Oikawa refused.”
The scent of aggression rose sharply. “That sounds awfully like a forced mating to me.”
“Kageyama willingly accepted the collar, and there’s no bite. They’re not mated,” he countered. “The law doesn’t care about sports teams: Oikawa is his Alpha of Record, and no court in this country is going to allow an underaged omega to repudiate a collar where there’s no history of abuse.” Especially one as obviously fucked up and dysfunctional as Tobio.
“Even if I would step in?”
Hajime pinched the bridge of his nose. It was hard not to feel humbled by Sawamura Daichi. By the standards of old Miyagi, he was a total nobody, the son of a single omega who worked cleaning houses. But he’d formed a mate bond with the omega son of the Sugawara clan. These days they were more affluent than obscenely wealthy, but money mattered less than prestige in Miyagi, and the Sugawaras were practically legendary. The old story was they were descended from gods. In more practical terms, they were one of the most respected families in the prefecture--and with a reputation for being strict about who they’d allow to marry into the clan.
There’d been a lot of gossip about the mating, but meeting Sawamura like this, Hajime could see why the Sugawara elders had sanctioned the match. Fellow Alphas would recognize that whatever his background, Sawamura was an exceptionally powerful Alpha. But listening to his offer, Hajime could see that his leadership went far beyond mere power. The Alpha had already admitted that Tobio, an omega first year, had misbehaved so egregiously, on his first bloody day, that he’d been banned from practice, and yet here he was offering to take him on--no questions, no hesitations. It was like some vision of the Alpha clan-leaders of old--who valued their role as protectors more than any power they garnered as rulers.
But this wasn’t some warrior clan, this was a volleyball team. The comparison should be ridiculous, but Sawamura had taken a pair of omega ferals, Tanaka and Nishinoya, and nurtured them into two of the most effective, devastating players in the prefecture. He had a feeling if anyone could manage Tobio it would be Sawamura--if Tooru would just get out of the way.
“I am not trying to justify this, but Oikawa has his reasons,” he said quietly.
“I’m listening.” Sawamura was luckily too polite to actually verbalize the subtext: I’m waiting to hear a reason that could explain why the Alpha son of the Oikawas is refusing to let go of a borderline feral omega who is not his mate.
Hajime weighed what he could or should say. He’d been privy to information about Tobio’s situation that was sensitive to say the least, information he had no business gossiping about, especially to someone who, thanks to Tooru’s stubbornness, could only be his Captain, not his Alpha.
But there were some things the team would inevitably find out. Might as well use them to make his case for why Tooru wasn’t completely out of line. “He’s alone, for one thing. No parents in the picture--I assume they’re dead but I don’t know that for sure. I think he was living with his grandfather, but he passed a few months before Kageyama presented, and I’m pretty sure he’d been in and out of the hospital for months before that.”
“Who’s signing his paperwork for schools?--there must be someone. Even if Oikawa is his Alpha of Record, he’s not a substitute for a guardian.”
“There’s a beta uncle, but I’m fairly sure he works in Australia. He sends some money each month for food and bare-bones necessities, but he’s never around.”
“And you didn’t think to report this?”
“Can we agree there are omegas who do not belong in the system? Would you report Tanaka?”
Everyone in the area seemingly knew about the Tanakas: the family had lived in the district from time immemorial, and every last one of them was disreputable. It was mostly petty stuff, swindling, debts, gambling, but Tanaka’s parents had taken it far enough to land both of them in prison, leaving two omega children at the mercy of the rest of their disgrace of a family. They’d bounced between placements of varying degrees of unfitness, until the sister started high school and by some miracle managed to set the two of them up in an apartment.
“We tried to do what you did--provide a support system,” Hajime continued. “But we don’t have your mate, and Kageyama doesn’t have Tanaka’s sister.”
Hajime seriously had no clue what was going through the Karasuno Alpha’s mind, but it was a long minute before he spoke. “I cannot have the collared omega of Aoba Johsai’s captain on my team,” he said. Fuck! Well, this was disaster. “Hear me out,” Sawamura said, cutting off Hajime’s incipient meltdown. “I won’t insist on changing his registration, but I will be taking responsibility as his Alpha for anything that happens as a member of the Crows. He can wear two tokens--mine and Oikawa’s. Assuming he makes the team, I need your word that Oikawa will not do anything to interfere with Kageyama’s ability to play--and win-- for Karasuno.”
Ugh, Sawamura clearly guessed one incriminating detail Hajime had left out: that Tobio was vulnerable to Tooru’s Alpha tone. That should only be possible for mates, and was a major reason things were so toxic for the two of them. Hajime wouldn’t accuse Tooru of outright abusing his power, but Tobio was an ornery brat who engaged in a number of self-destructive behaviors that Tooru refused to tolerate.
It took him a moment to realize that Sawamura had effectively offered to let Tobio wear his token even if he didn’t make the team. Was the man trying for sainthood?
He’d need it: Tobio and Tooru made it a point of pride to disagree about everything under the sun, but they were both going to hate this solution. At this point, Hajime was ready to tell them to fuck themselves.
Hajime didn’t want make promises for Tooru’s good behavior: he was rabidly competitive, with a well-deserved reputation for vicious mindgames, but Tooru couldn’t use an Alpha order on Tobio during gameplay without everyone and their mother seeing it, and nothing short of that would have an effect.
“I guarantee that if you let Kageyama on the team, he will devote his entire existence to your winning,” he said. Whatever momentary authority Tooru could exert couldn’t hold a candle to Tobio’s competitive drive--Hajime had never met anyone, Alpha or omega, who could equal it. Fate really had proven herself a psychotic bitch in making this kid an omega.
And speak of the devil. Hajime heard a familiar shout of “Oy, dumbass, that’s not how you do it!” coming from around the corner of the gym building.
Tobio’s shout was promptly met by, “Who you calling dumbass? Dumbass!”
“You little…” Next came the predictable shouts of “temee,” “boke,” “bakayaro.”
He and Sawamura crossed the yard and went around the corner to see Tobio grappling with what looked like a middle schooler with shockingly orange hair.
“Oy!” Sawamura roared. “This is not behavior that will get you onto my team!”
Both first years looked up from their scuffle. The redhead immediately bared his neck, but Tobio just seethed, like he didn’t even register the Alpha dominance coming from the captain. It made Hajime feel slightly better for all the times Tobio had just brushed off his authority. He wasn’t as strong an Alpha as Sawamura--not that many were--but he was no slouch. Even as a second year, he’d been viewed as the strongest Alpha at Aoba Johsai.
Predictably, the second Tobio saw Hajime, he snarled, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
This fucking kid.
“Unacceptable,” Sawamura growled. “He’s your senpai, co-captain of a rival team. You will treat him with respect.”
“Respect” in Tobio’s case meant a scowl that could peal paint.
The redhead began pointing and jumping up and down, ranting something about “Aoba Johsai’s Ace.”
“Hinata, with me,” Sawamura cut him off.
“Does this mean I’m on the team?” he chirped, as he scrambled to follow.
“No,” Sawamura growled as they went back around the other side of the building.
Which left him and Tobio.
“Why are you here?” he said by way of hello.
“I worked it out that you can play for Karasuno, assuming you can get yourself on the team.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem if he took this fucking thing back,” he shouted, pulling at the collar.
“You were booted for fighting with the orange pipsqueak, not because of the collar--apparently you two were shouting at each other while the captain was trying to speak to the team,” he said calmly. “I get that they don’t have a coach, but even you can’t think that’s acceptable.” Tobio opted for his usual default of sullen silence. “I am only going to say this one more time to you. He’s not taking the collar back. All of this crap you’re pulling is just persuading him more that you can’t function without an Alpha.”
“This is bullshit!”
It really was. But Hajime was determined to be a man of his word and not try to keep persuading the omega. They’d gone too many rounds as it was. Hajime almost wished this was some omega defiance, but he’d realized over the past few weeks that this crisis was building that the problem went far deeper. Tobio wasn’t defiant--he was psychologically incapable of compliance. Needless to say, this wasn’t typical or acceptable behavior from an omega, especially one who lacked any of the attributes that society looked for in the dynamic--sweetness, softness, refined manners, cuteness, timidity, ethereal beauty. On that scale, Tobio was about as appealing as a rabid badger.
But yet… for all is his personality issues, he was unquestionably an omega.
There were omegas who did fine without an Alpha, but Tobio wasn’t one of them. The most recent problem started because the Oikawas had been traveling during the spring recess, and Tobio had completely melted down, forcing Hajime to go over to his house in the middle of the night, where he’d found the kid shivering and feverish. It was textbook touch starvation.
And every time Hajime thought he’d reached his breaking point with them and was going to insist they finally end this nonsense, he’d remember one of the rare moments when the two of them weren’t screaming at each other, and then he could see how Tooru was able to get through to Tobio, in a way that no one else could.
Hajime had wasted far too much of his life pondering what had happened between them. He wished his brain would just let it go. There was never any new information, so it was an exercise in futility. The underclassmen and the Oikawas put the blame squarely on Tobio, figuring that the omega had somehow initiated a mating bond and poor, innocent Tooru was just trying to do the right thing.
Hajime had no sympathy for the Oikawas, who had all of Tooru’s flaws but none of the qualities that made him (occasionally, a tiny bit) lovable. For seventeen years they’d heaped him with praise, never giving him a single limit, until Hajime felt like he was the parent, since he was the only one who ever told Tooru he was out of line. His omega older sister, Kimiko, was a toxic bitch who’d married a complete piece of shit--Hajime had only met the Alpha a handful of times, but it was enough to make him thoroughly loathe the man. The only member of the family Tooru truly cared about was his nephew, Takeru.
The family was already a toxic brew of dysfunction, and needless to say the news that their golden boy had formed some sort of bond with an impoverished omega nobody did not go over well. Kimiko was milking her brother’s fall for all its worth, while his parents acted like the world was ending. But the family was united in the view that Kageyama was a brazen floozy who went about entrapping vulnerable Alphas. They’d proven deaf to all reason or reality. To his credit, Tooru had never for a second implied that Tobio was somehow to blame. He might be spoiled, but he knew his parents were full of garbage.
The underclassmen’s attitude was unfortunate but more understandable. They all loathed Tobio, and were happy to blame him over their beloved captain. After all, Tobio had already alienated everyone on the team by acting like a condescending prick when he wasn’t starting actual fistfights. And then to add insult to injury, the best player in his age group in the entire bloody prefecture, whom everyone had assumed was a beta, suddenly presented as an omega--a year later than he should have.
To say it caused an uproar would be a gross understatement. But it was less than a month before the fall Qualifiers and Aoba Johsai wasn’t about to risk their chance at Nationals. They couldn’t win without Kageyama, so it was a no-brainer that Tooru, as the newly installed captain, would collar him so he could play.
It only took a few days for Hajime to realize something had gone wrong. There was a subtle but definite change in Tooru’s scent that the underclassmen were too young to understand, but the older players recognized. And then came the moment when Tooru barked something at Tobio and he immediately froze and bore his neck--almost as if he were powerless to ignore Tooru’s Alpha tone.
The third years and the coach had thankfully moved quickly, making clear that anyone who gossiped about this could consider themselves off the team. It had the makings of an explosive scandal, that would have tarnished the school and destroyed Tooru’s volleyball prospects. They’d been saved by the sheer improbability of the two of them getting together--that Kageyama Tobio would seduce an upperclassman, that Oikawa Tooru could possibly be attracted to him.
Still, the more observant of the younger players would have noticed how Tobio always seemed fixated on Tooru, copying his moves, spending months perfecting a jump serve. To this day, Hajime still couldn’t say it hadn’t just been about volleyball--as opposed to some prepubescent crush. Tobio’s late presentation wasn’t the only indicator of his immaturity, but from Hajime’s observation, volleyball was the only thing in the universe that mattered to Tobio. And maybe that was the rub: because there was only one player Tobio seemed to acknowledge or admire--his fellow setter, Oikawa Tooru.
That might be enough for the underclassmen to condemn Tobio, but the older team-members knew damn well that an omega underclassman worshiping his Alpha senpai was not a rare occurrence. In the normal course of things something so one-sided would not be able to create any kind of bond, let alone a mating bond. No one accused Tooru of anything inappropriate, but Hajime wasn’t the only upperclassman on the team who had suspicions that the bond wasn’t one-sided. However, Hajime was the only one who’d spent three years listening to Tooru rant about the boy: Tobio-chan had been abominably rude, the little brat got into another argument with a classmate, the idiot forgot his bento again, Tobio-chan needed new shoes but kept forgetting to get them. And he’d never forget that strange moment in junior high when Hajime caught Tooru about to strike the younger boy.
It wasn’t pretty or healthy, but no player at Aoba Johsai provoked such strong feelings in Tooru. As far as Hajime was concerned, there was zero chance this all came from Tobio.
But looking at the sullen boy in front of him, Hajime also had to acknowledge that mutual obsession, even some mythical “true matehood,” was not enough to create a healthy relationship, and Hajime was tired of serving as their go-between.
“You know, Kageyama, I might feel a little sympathy for you if I hadn’t cut short my own practice so I could come talk to your captain--because if I hadn’t it would have been him. And if you’d showed a little less attitude, you’d be in there practicing right now instead of brawling with another first year.”
“What fucking business is it of yours!”
“Should I call Oikawa now and tell him to come here and deal with you?” he snarled. “He’s still your Alpha of Record, and he was furious when he found out you transferred without telling him. Right now, you need to wake the fuck up and listen to what I’m telling you!”
Great, now he was shouting.
Miracle of miracles, Tobio actually bared his neck in submission--that had to be a first. It enabled Hajime to get his own temper back under control. “You’re a setter. Think of him as a spiker: you need to work with him to get the result you want.”
In truth, Tobio was the most naturally gifted setter he’d ever seen, including Tooru, who was phenomenally talented. His court sense and control of the ball were unparalleled. He had potential to be one of the best setters in Japan, but with his current inability to manage other players or his own temper, it was too likely that potential would be wasted.
“I’m leaving, so here’s my final bit advice, Tobio. If you really want free from him, then pull yourself together. Stop ducking his calls, stop ignoring rules that are in place for your safety, get on this fucking team, and when the captain offers you his token, accept it graciously. Do this, because if you don’t, he will come over here and drag you to back to Seijoh, so he can keep an eye on you. And Tobio, don’t kid yourself: no one, least of all you, will be able to stop him.”
Daichi
Daichi watched the Aoba Johsai co-captain give Kageyama a final pat on the shoulder and walk away, while the omega kicked the ground and ranted, looking more like an elementary schooler throwing a tantrum than a high school first year.
He felt Suga draw near before his mate put his hands on his shoulders, lightly scenting neck. “You were listening?”
“Enough to know there was a lot he wasn’t saying,” Suga answered.
“You think they’re mated?”
“I’d guess he was omitting, not outright lying.” Suga’s “guesses” were reliable, so that was one worry he could set aside. “I suspect it’s not a full bond--did you pick up anything off his scent?”
“It’s kind of… young. Hinata’s is actually similar. They’re obviously omegas, but they don’t smell mature.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Oikawa’s is less ambiguous--especially for people who know him well--that would account for Iwaizumi’s rather pathetic contortions.”
“I believe him when he said nothing improper happened, but I still can’t believe they kept it quiet.”
“He’s one of the best players in the prefecture,” Suga said crisply. “Of course, no one wants to risk such a glorious future. Believe me, there are people behind the scenes whispering that Kageyama is a master manipulator and slut.”
“Well no matter how much they might try to smear Kageyama, they can’t wish away that age difference. There’s no way Oikawa would come away with his reputation.”
“And that scenario would require endowing Kageyama Tobio with some omega allure capable of bewitching the most popular boy in the school.” Daichi chuckled at the picture of the scowling, foul-mouthed omega somehow seducing an Alpha like Oikawa. “But make no mistake: if this explodes, they will pillory that boy.”
“You think I should have said no?”
“I didn’t say that,” Suga said. “Any scandal will land on Aoba Johsai, not us. And I can’t say I’d feel right abandoning that particular omega to cope with allegations of impropriety with an Alpha two years his senior. To say nothing about how the Oikawas would react if they actually mated.”
“Lord help us,” Daichi sighed. They were a “new” family, at least by Miyagi standards--only going back a few generations--but they’d always been among the wealthiest in the region, and with a well-deserved reputation for social-climbing. Daichi had only needed a few minutes with Kageyama Tobio to know he would never be considered a suitable match for the first-born Alpha son of the Oikawas.
“But from what I heard, you as good as promised Iwaizumi that the boy would wear your token, so it seems a bit late for second thoughts.”
“I still have them every time Tanaka rips his shirt off in public, and he’s in my pack, so I’d argue it’s never too late for second thoughts. He’s not like Hinata. If we do this, we may be stuck with him.”
“And I repeat: the offer was made, if he accepts then he does.” Suga went up on his toes and kissed him on the mouth.
“He’s a setter--and it sounds like he’s decent,” Daichi added carefully.
“Decent? I must have been listening to a different conversation. Iwaizumi said he could get us to Nationals--he all but implied the boy’s already better than Oikawa.”
“Karasuno already has a setter--an excellent one.”
Suga kissed him again. “You sweet, ridiculous man. Enough of that. And anyway, with the way things have been going, this might be my only chance to see Tokyo.”
No hesitations, no complaints: Daichi took a moment to bask in the feeling of such complete support from his mate. It felt like a load had been lifted--he had no idea what this Kageyama mess would mean for his team or his pack, but whatever it was, he and Suga would face it together. Just like a year ago when they were having an uncannily parallel discussion about whether to let Tanaka and Nishinoya join the team.
It had been a good fifty years now since the laws for omegas had started to liberalize. In the early days when schools in Japan, Europe and the US started allowing omegas to attend school with Alphas, they’d come up with the rule that omegas who wanted to play on interscholastic teams had to wear a collar from either the captain or the coach. Nominally it was to protect omegas from Alpha teammates and opponents. In reality it protected schools and athletic associations from liability if something did happen--which also meant that it was almost always the captains rather than coaches who were asked to assume the risks.
Fifty years later, omega collars were no longer universal, but a matter of individual preference or pack tradition, and the athletic rule had become a reactionary throwback that had been dropped by the US and most European countries. It had survived in Japan, likely because unlike in those less civilized countries, assaults and nonconsensual matings were unheard of in Japanese high school sports. That statistic was taken as proof positive that the law had worked as intended. Whether collaring was truly the reason or not, there was no incentive to rock the boat. Among omegas, attitudes towards collars varied as much as the athletes who wore them: some were indifferent, some wore them with pride as a badge that they played on a competitive team, some despised them as yet another sign of how far omegas had to go to be truly equal.
But in one of those unintended developments that can occur in societies in flux, as the old clan system faded, and betas especially began living in nuclear units, sports team captains had somehow come to fill the place of Registered Alpha for omegas on their teams who didn’t have a family member to fill the role.
In most cases, the registration was just a piece of paper. The overwhelming majority of high school students had parents or guardians, and being the captain of a sports team did not make you suddenly want to become the guardian for a teammate who was at most two years younger than you. And long gone were the days when a Registered Alpha could simply override the decision of a beta or omega parent. Courts had far more discretion to favor parents and guardians if there was some sort of conflict. But in cases where there was no guardian, or a patently unfit one, a Registered Alpha had legal authority to make decisions for an underaged omega--and thanks to a fifty-year-old athletic rule, all over Japan, eighteen and even seventeen-year-old Alphas served that role for their omega teammates.
Daichi had never given a moment’s thought to the law until the start of his second year when it became the reason he made captain a year early. Sports teams that had omega players were required to have an Alpha as captain, and with no Alpha third years on the team, and Asahi uninterested, the position fell to him.
That was all well and good. But then the first day of the new school year, two omega first years, Tanaka and Nishinoya, had shown up for tryouts. Daichi had been thrilled at the prospect of two talented new starters--it wouldn’t have occurred to him to ask if they had an Alpha of Record. But in the midst of his gushing about what the line-up meant for their chances to make Nationals, Suga had said quietly, “That’s wonderful, so long as you understand that if you let them on the team, both will form pack bonds with you.”
“Wouldn’t that require me to bite them?”
“Instinct-driven bonds will form without a bite,” he’d answered with one of his dangerous smiles.
Daichi had had a rapid—and slightly terrifying--education on the nature of instinct-driven bonds from the Sugawara Pack elders after he’d inadvertently initiated a mating bond with their precious omega son. They were supposedly very rare, which was why no one seemed to know about them. And now Suga was telling him that mating bonds were not the only ones that could be created by instinct.
It wasn’t too much to say that Daichi was floored by that. He was barely seventeen. He and Suga weren’t even officially mated yet—their deal with the elders was that they’d wait until they graduated. And now Suga was saying he could become a Pack Alpha? That was a completely different animal from a Registered Alpha. Under Japanese law, a Pack Alpha superseded parents, guardians, teachers--and not just for minors. Pack omegas needed their Alpha’s permission to mate, to live outside of the main compound, to take certain risky jobs.
Was Suga seriously suggesting that he should take responsibility for two fifteen-year-olds? The idea was nuts. Suga had just kissed him and said he knew that Daichi would make the right decision--and that he was behind him one hundred percent.
Since it was so early in the year, Daichi ended up hedging. Collars weren’t necessary for the club, only for official games. That gave him a few weeks to figure stuff out. Of course, he should have known by now that Suga never said anything without an ironclad reason. It would soon become all too clear that both Tanaka and Nishinoya came from broken homes. Neither had ever had a proper Alpha in their lives. Both were, to put it mildly, a mess--rock-bottom grades, suspensions for fighting, brushes with law enforcement. And Daichi also quickly realized that his decision didn’t just concern the two boys on his team: Tanaka came with a sister who was just as dysfunctional.
All three of them were a single mistake away from getting scooped up by either social services or criminal justice--where they would be crushed under a system that was not designed to cope with omegas who couldn’t color inside the lines.
Suddenly the prospect of their forming pack bonds was much more concerning. These three would not be going to college or getting mated and leaving Miyagi. They were not the kinds of omegas who were offered membership in well-run, successful packs.
And beyond Daichi’s legal obligations, there would be a personal obligation--to three omegas who’d been screwed over too many times to count. Bottom line: there could be no half-assing this. If he agreed to become their Alpha, he needed to be an everyday, steadying presence in their lives. He would not be leaving Miyagi for college or a job. There was every chance these bonds would be for life.
But as he faced down the reality of his position, somehow instead of feeling panic, for the first time in his life Daichi felt totally clear--about who he was, and what his life should be. Suga saw it before he did, and knew he’d not turn his back on these kids--told him outright that they were in this together. Daichi joked about second thoughts, but in fact he’d never looked back.
One welcome development he’d not anticipated: Asahi danced around it, but it was clear he considered Noya his mate. When he finally got his act together, he would follow Noya into Daichi’s pack rather than starting his own. That would bring the security of another Alpha, and increase the chance that their pack could weather any storms and ultimately thrive.
What Daichi hadn’t counted on was that having three omegas as starters for the team resulted in other omegas gravitating to the Crows. All four first years who’d filled out the form for the team were omegas. All but Kageyama would have to wear his collar. Suga, with Takeda’s tacit help, had looked into them, and three of them should pose no issues.
Hinata was from one of those ancient, sprawling clans that nowadays only existed deep in the countryside. Hinatas had dominated the mountains to the north for centuries, producing generation after generation of large families full of boisterous redheads. The Hinata omegas were known for being gregarious and outspoken. They wouldn’t pass muster in Kyoto or Tokyo, but in rural Miyagi they did just fine. There were no unattached Alphas on the team, so it was a safe bet that little Shoyo would not be joining a tiny, upstart pack run by his volleyball captain.
From what he’d already seen, Tsukishima suffered from the same problem that all his omegas except for Suga did: he was not sweet-tempered, deferential, friendly, or any other desirable omega trait. He had a mile-wide nasty streak, along with a sharp tongue and a talent for getting under peoples’ skins. According to Suga, he’d been the top student at his junior high, and in the normal course of things he’d not look twice at Karasuno. It was yet to be seen if Tsukishima was drawn to Karasuno solely because of volleyball and the possibility of playing on a team that didn’t discriminate. He was clearly an athlete, not at Hinata’s level but talented, and unlike Hinata, his volleyball skills were solid. Altogether he seemed lukewarm about the team, but Daichi knew not to read too much into that. And even without volleyball, the Crows were evidence that Karasuno as a whole was more omega friendly than most high schools. Tsukishima might just have wanted a school where he didn’t have to constantly keep that tongue of his in check.
Number three on this list, Yamaguchi, hadn’t much experience playing volleyball and likely only signed up because of his best friend. Daichi didn’t have much read on him, but he couldn’t imagine trouble coming from him, especially compared to nearly every other omega on his team except his mate.
Both Yamaguchi and Tsukishima came from beta families, but they were connected enough to have Registered Alphas, and both families appeared to be economically secure. They should have no motive to join Daichi’s pack of misfits.
That left Kageyama, an omega orphan with terrible grades and an even worse personality. Who’d somehow managed an incomplete, dysfunctional mating bond with the heir to the Oikawa pack.
He could grasp what Suga wanted him to understand: if things fell apart with the Aoba Johsai captain, Kageyama would have nowhere else to go--nowhere except their pack. The only mystery was that Suga didn’t consider it a sure thing that Kageyama would end up with them. But that made it seem like he thought there was a possibility that Oikawa and Kageyama might ultimately finalize the mating?
Suga was rarely wrong, but he couldn’t seriously think those two…
His mate was smiling fondly, like Daichi had just solved a tricky puzzle--too bad he was more confused than ever. “I’m just going to ignore the family stuff and how incompatible everyone thinks they are. We’re still talking about a junior high athletic collaring--No matter what, this shouldn’t have happened. Unless….”
“They’re True Mates,” Suga said with an arch smile.
“That’s a myth.”
“It is not a myth,” he said with such authority Daichi knew it must be true. “That is not to say this particular couple…” he delicately left off. This particular couple: a surly omega brat and the handsome, wealthy private school boy who was probably the only high school volleyball captain in Japan with multiple fan sites devoted to him.
“Then again if you wanted evidence that True Mates exist,” Suga said, eyes sharp. “You truly believe a bond between those two could form without fate intervening?”
Lord help them all.