Archive of Our Own

In another world, Gojo Satoru was God.

But it certainly didn’t feel like it.

He’d been the most powerful being in the world. The ground rumbled beneath his every step, and curses fled at the mere approach of his presence. Both curse users and curses alike trembled in fear at the mention of his name. His clan revered him, the very essence of his being; and treated him like their own version of god. With such formidable power at his fingertips, he held the very fate of humanity in his hands.

But he chose to end it all.

At the very tail end of his life, Gojo Satoru came to a startling revelation: none of it had mattered. Inheriting the Six Eyes was useless. Possessing Limitless was useless. Being the absolute strongest in the world—was also useless. None of it had done him any good as he stood in that godforsaken alley, and fought against every fibre of his being to lay a hand against the man he loved the most. He hadn’t wanted to do it. He’d gone to great lengths to avoid it. But despite having successfully kept his distance from Suguru for a whole decade, his deepest fears ultimately returned to torment him in the very flesh.

The elders still made him do it. The elders still forced his hand.

Victory had never tasted so bitter. It took witnessing Geto Suguru’s lifeless, motionless form before him—lying in a pool of blood that Satoru was responsible for—that pushed Satoru to the brink, and led him to finally snap.

Everything turned to purple, after that.

At first it was only a sweet, delicate violet, a lingering echo of Suguru’s final haunting gaze.

“At least curse me a little, at the end.”

And then it was a tempest of electrifying purple, borne from the depths of Satoru’s anguish. The vivid hue, pulsating with unrestrained power, swept through the narrow alleyways of Tokyo; his unbridled fury coursing through its streets. Buildings quivered in response, while curses scattered like frightened spectres before the oncoming storm. It didn’t take long before the destructive cascade spilled beyond the confines of Tokyo, and engulfed the entirety of Japan.

Satoru was an unstoppable force. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop conjuring purple, because it was the only thing he had left to cling onto. He was afraid if he ever stopped, he’d start to miss him. He’d succumb to the overwhelming emptiness in his heart that threatened to consume him whole. And so towns and cities fell prey to his unyielding grief, as his relentless tide of purple tore through the country he once sought to safeguard. He’d wanted so badly for them to know. For everyone to know.

If I could do it all over again, I would have saved you.

In the final, quiet moments before the world turned to dust, there existed only Suguru in Satoru’s mind—his laughter, his anger, his presence, all-consuming and vivid.

There was Suguru measuring their heights, tipping on his itsy bitsy toes in annoyance and disbelief at Satoru’s four-inch-taller, towering stature. There was Suguru, leaning forward with a challenging glare, inviting him to take things outside. There was Suguru firmly slapping Satoru’s stinky feet, when he dared to rest them on the back of his chair. There was Suguru chasing after him with unrestrained laughter in the corridors of jujutsu high, still so unburdened by the weight of the worries that would plague him in time to come.

There was Suguru frozen permanently in time as Satoru quietly confessed his love to him in the moments leading up to his death. He’d gazed back up at Satoru in an expression of surrender, a helpless little smile gracing his face.

“At least curse me a little, at the end.”

At the end of it all, there was only Suguru.

And then there was nothing else.

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In this new world, Gojo Satoru was given a fresh start.

The Heavens were kind to him, for reasons unknown.

After all, the once-heroic sorcerer had descended into a madness of his own making. The destructive path he had chosen had spared nothing in its wake, having mercilessly massacred both the living and the non-living. He hadn’t stayed long enough to ascertain if anything else remained of Japan in his former life. He hadn’t cared enough to.

Satoru quickly learned that this world was different from his previous. For one, there was no such thing as curses, or cursed energy. (And for the better.) For two, the world was divided into three secondary genders: alpha, beta, and omega. The alphas were the most fortunate, and the omegas—not as lucky.

In this second life of his, Satoru found himself starting anew, blessed with every advantage at his fingertips: wealth, status, looks (he’d kept his own), and power. An alpha by birth, he’d been born into one of the most prestigious families in Japan. The Gojos not only controlled the biggest conglomerate in the nation, but also held prominent positions in politics. Due to his father’s deteriorating health condition, Satoru found himself set to inherit the esteemed position of president of the conglomerate at the youthful age of thirty.

He hadn’t been keeping count, but it seems he’d already surpassed the age at which he’d met his death in his former existence.

There was a reason Satoru hadn’t cared: there was no Suguru to be found in this lonely new world, and so it hadn’t mattered, whether Satoru got to live a little longer or not.

In the course of his new life, Satoru had crossed paths with former sorcerers like Shoko, Utahime, Mei Mei, Nanami, and Haibara. He didn’t always say hi. He often spotted them from a distance—in a cafe, or on the opposite side of a street crossing. Hell, he’d been comfortably seated in his chauffeured car, watching life pass him by, when he first spotted Megumi and Tsumiki. They were waiting to be picked up outside their school, their hands entwined.

Just as Satoru deliberated whether to step out of the car and check in on them, their father unexpectedly appeared with a shit-eating grin on his face, riding a bike that definitely didn’t seem safe enough for both kids to ride on. But they’d looked so happy, scrambling to Toji’s embrace.

So Satoru had backed off.

Perhaps Toji was making good use of this brand new life, too, to do good by his kids.

The only person Satoru maintained regular contact with was Shoko. They’d met when Satoru got into a minor car accident and had to be stitched up by the ER doctor overnight. They hit it off immediately, even if Shoko evidently possessed none of the memories from their past lives. But her demanding schedule left little time for them to hang out, and so their communication mainly consisted of sporadic texts, with occasional coffee catch-ups every six months.

Satoru… couldn’t help but notice a certain distance persist between them, however—whether intentionally maintained by Shoko or as an inevitable result of the stark differences of their lives.

Regardless, Shoko wasn’t the only one he had encountered who couldn’t recall their past life. Mei Mei, whom he met at a gala event, hardly flinched when he used the words “sorcerer” or “curses”. Is that some new digital currency? Mei Mei had asked with a teasing smile. Something the Gojos got advance word about? I’ll put up 1 million yen upfront, no questions asked.

It seemed like this was all some sort of punishment, then.

The Heavens had left him to stew in his own memories of the past—a cruel reminder of the joy and camaraderie he once enjoyed with his fellow sorcerers. Now, all that remained was a cold distance that isolated him from everyone else. His new existence felt painfully lonely, with no one to confide in, to lean on and share in his burdens.

And of course, Satoru looked for Suguru all of these thirty years, but he was nowhere to be found.

It didn’t seem fair that everyone else had been given a second chance at life except for him, but perhaps this was Satoru’s cosmic retribution. Because Satoru knew that if Suguru had it his way, he’d have preferred to be laid eternally to rest, and never come back. Living had been overwhelmingly exhausting for him… and it was only Satoru who selfishly desired for his company back here; for him to return.

It seemed fair, then, that Suguru would be spared from being reborn into this life. He’d probably be far happier that way.

And so, Satoru resigned himself to the very belief: perhaps they’d simply never meet again.

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And yet, Suguru haunted him wherever he’d go.

Sweet, delicate violet stayed in Satoru’s memory, like ghostly echoes of a past that had slipped right through his grasp. He saw traces of him in everything and everyone, and desperately chased after a shadow of him everywhere he turned. He thought he saw Suguru in the convenience-store clerk, whose unique lilac eyes continued to taunt him, mock him. He thought he saw Suguru in the crowd who passed him by on the streets, in a middle-aged man who bore long dark silken hair just like Suguru’s. He even thought it really was Suguru once, running past him through wet puddles in a black Japanese school uniform, swiftly turning a corner in an alleyway.

“Su… Suguru!”

But when Satoru caught up to him, he realised it had been nothing more than a tall Japanese schoolgirl sporting a high gyaru-esque bun, loose socks, and an overlined pout that Suguru wouldn’t ever make.

“Hey, good-looking mister,” she’d smirked up at him from beneath her fake, spidery lashes. “Do you want to have some fun?”

Recoiling instinctively, Satoru found himself involuntarily clutching at his head, trapped in his endless struggle to discern between his sweet violet dreams—and the harsh reality of what really was.

Suguru just didn’t exist in this universe, no matter how much Satoru struggled to accept that.

But how could you leave me all alone, here? Satoru thought, as he continued wasting his days away in a life he never asked for. How could you find peace all by yourself—without me?

There had been so many words and actions that remained unspoken and undone, so much of them that Satoru had held back on for so long. He thought he’d have more time with Suguru. He thought he’d have been able to do it all.

And if I had just one last chance…

He wouldn’t mess it up this time.

He swears to god.

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Salvation didn’t always come in the form of pills and destruction.

Satoru rose early for work and prepared himself for the day, going through the motions as he always did. He pulled open the bedroom cabinet and grabbed for his shaver, blatantly ignoring, for the third month in a row, the bottle of pills that sat there in vain, waiting to accomplish what they’d been specifically acquired for. Satoru was committed to doing it eventually, but today just didn’t feel right. There… was something palpable in the air today. Satoru thought he should put his brave face on and head to work before others began to notice that something was amiss. After all, he was their president.

Salvation came to him, instead, in the form of his sweet violet eyes, the second he stepped off the elevator to the fiftieth floor where his office suite sat.

Geto Suguru’s beautiful, breathtaking, and very much alive face stared right back at Satoru, wearing an overly sheepish smile. He was clad in a deliveryman attire—a quirky ensemble comprising a baseball cap and an oversized jacket that Satoru could only register as... a form of cosplay? It suited Suguru in an oddly endearing way though, making him look much younger than he really was, and insanely adorable. Still, the Geto Suguru that Satoru knew would never be caught dead delivering packages to anyone. And yet, here and now, he stood before him clutching a large box in his hands, awaiting to hand it over to him.

“Hiya,” Suguru greeted with a friendly wave, his lovely eyes crinkling into slits, radiating a youthful enthusiasm that bore startling likeness to his past self. It was him, for sure. It had to be him. Satoru should have cherished his smile much more back then, when he still had it next to him. No matter—all of it, it was finally returning back to his side now. “Are you Gojo Satoru? I have your package. I was hoping to hand it over to your secretary, but I think she’s taking a bathroom break.”

Am I Gojo Satoru? It almost felt like a joke to him; a cruel tease of a dream from which he could awaken at any time. For hadn’t he dreamt of this exact moment for all thirty years of his life? Hadn’t he fantasised about the million ways it would pan out? At the same time, to spare himself the heartbreak, he’d tried to desperately—uselessly—convince himself that Suguru was not a part of this new world. And yet, at this very moment, Suguru, adorned in his eccentric deliveryman attire, stood right before him, a living testament to the twenty or so years he must have walked the same grounds Satoru did; and breathed the same air that he did.

Satoru stood frozen, his mind a turbulent churn of conflicting emotions—confusion, disbelief, and, beneath it all, a burgeoning sense of joy. His blue eyes dilated until they were almost fully white, and his hands began to shake. He wanted to call out Suguru’s name, but he couldn’t even speak. He couldn’t even draw breath.

Suguru was alive. Suguru was alive!

Suguru was real. Suguru was well and alive!

Suguru had come back to him. Suguru had finally come back to him!

He knew something was up in the air today.

It’d been his one and only, running right back to him.

“Suguru,” Satoru’s voice finally wrangled out, a broken whisper plagued with a mix of astonishment and… a hint of hurt. He took a step forward, outstretching a hand that longed to touch what was rightfully his. He didn’t care if it was too much. He didn’t care about anything but the fact that Suguru had found his way back to him!

Foolishly, he uttered out, “You… You’ve been hiding from me.”

A silly smile tugged at the corner of his lips, as he blinked back the tears that threatened to overflow. He wasn’t supposed to know Suguru’s name yet at this juncture—he’s sure that in Suguru’s eyes, they were strangers that had just met—but he couldn’t contain himself. He hadn’t spoken Suguru’s name aloud in years, and the suppressed ache and all of the yearning he’d been holding back was now surging forth uncontrollably, rushing forward to embrace the object of its very affections.

“Eh?” Suguru blinked back at him, as he hastily checked the front of his uniform. When he made sure he was indeed not displaying his identification today, he nervously laughed it off, and cautiously asked of Satoru, “I’m not wearing my badge today. How do you know my name? Are you like… a stalker or something?”

Satoru rushed to reply, even before he ascertained what to say. “No, I—”

And then he realised he didn’t know what to say.

He had so many questions to ask: what are you doing now? Where have you lived all these years? Are your parents faring well? Do you remember anything, no, have you caught glimpses of me in your dreams? Does your heart feel like it perpetually holds a burning hole, as though it’s been yearning for something more all these years you’ve been away from me?

Instead, his hand dropped from where it was hanging in the air, as he started off with the easier questions.

Right off the bat, he asked, while loosening his tie to allow for easier breaths, “How old are you?”

“Uh…” Suguru was clearly apprehensive to answer, but shrugged when he decided it was a harmless question. “Twenty-seven.”

Oh, good. They were only three years apart. It made sense why Satoru might have not seen him around, even if they had attended the same high school or university.. Actually… Satoru swallowed tight when it occurred to him, Suguru’s the age that he’d died in his previous life.

“Is this your full-time job?” Satoru continued to ask, his intense blue eyes scrutinising every bit of Suguru’s uniform. “Do you do anything else?”

“Um…” Suguru said. “I work at the bar in the evenings.”

“Nearby?”

“Yeah. In the area.”

Satoru’s forehead creased in worry. He understood very well the nature of the bars that operated in this area. “You’re a host?”

“Uh, no. I mostly wait tables. But I’m hoping to bartend soon,” Suguru hummed, a small twinkle in his eye. “I’ve been practising after my shifts. I’m quite good.”

Satoru couldn’t help but smile. When Suguru smiled, he, too, smiled. Suguru’s happiness always felt unbearably infectious. “Bartending would suit you.”

Suguru forgot to hide the excitement in his voice, as it climbed several pitches. “You think so? I always wanted to try.”

“Yeah, you’d be great at it,” Satoru continued to praise, though a… rather solemn realisation soon dawned on him, casting a shadow over his mood. The Geto Suguru that I knew, wasn’t like this before. The Geto Suguru that he knew harboured grand ambitions, aspirations larger than even the both of them.

So big that they seemed almost impossible to accomplish, to his own detriment; leading to his eventual downfall, and death.

So why did the Suguru of this lifetime, seem so—so easily content?

“Hey, you…” Satoru questioned, seeking confirmation. “You’re happy, like this?”

“Huh?” Suguru answered, puzzled by the question. He didn’t have to give it much thought, though. “Yeah, I am.”

Satoru couldn’t believe it. “You’re happy delivering parcels and waiting tables?”

A lesser person would have taken great offence. Not Suguru, though.

“Yeah,” Suguru said, looking as though he seemed to finally understand the bewilderment of the CEO standing before him. "My dreams don’t sound big, do they? But I’ve never felt discontent a day in my life. I’ve always preferred a simpler life."

Satoru’s breath was caught in his throat. “A simpler life?” he repeated, softly. Digesting it. Taking it greatly to heart.

Was this what Suguru always wanted, deep down inside?

If Suguru hadn’t had an affinity with curses in their former life, would he have preferred a simpler existence of doing whatever he pleased, even if it meant waiting on others and scurrying around with boxes?

Would it have meant he wouldn’t have overthought the act of saving humanity, no, his friends, no, the world?

Till this day, Satoru still wished he could have noticed it in time.

But without the presence of curses, could Suguru always have lived a better life—as a civilian?

Satoru guessed he had his answer now.

“This… was always what you wanted?” Satoru asked, with regret etched on his face. “Even back then, Suguru?”

Suguru blinked, unsure of how to respond. He must think Satoru’s insane. “Um.”

But if Suguru had pursued the life that he originally intended to, far removed from jujutsu sorcery, then wouldn’t that mean that Satoru and him wouldn’t ever have met?

They had always lived two worlds apart; Satoru simply never felt the difference as keenly as he did now.

Was the only thing tying us together back then—being jujutsu sorcerers, Suguru?

Satoru’s secretary swept in at that moment, hurrying back to take her place at the front desk.

“I’m so sorry, Gojo-sama!” she profusely apologised with deep bows of her head. “I was in the bathroom! You should not have to be troubled like this.”

Satoru waved it off, with a heavy heart. “It’s no matter.”

Suguru hastily stepped forward, grateful for the timely interruption. “Can I just get your signature here, please?”

“Yes, of course,” his secretary quickly signed off on the package. Raising her gaze back up to her boss, she dutifully informed him, “It’s the revised contract that we wanted from Daiichi, sir.”

But Satoru’s gaze remained fixated on Suguru, who was already leaving the package on the counter and eagerly taking his leave. “Well, then,” Suguru bid them goodbye without even so much as turning his head. Satoru had the inkling suspicion that he was deliberately avoiding him. “See ya.”

And then he headed off, just like that.

Lost in a daze, Satoru wavered between the impulse to call out Suguru’s name one last time in a desperate bid to get him to stay, or to simply let him be, and let him go. Before he could settle on a decision, however, he realised that Suguru was already stepping into an empty elevator—!

But just as he rushed forward to get him, the doors slid close in his face, severing the only thread connecting Suguru to his grasp, forever.

“Fuuuuck!” Satoru cursed loudly, his hand slamming against the closed elevator doors, the blunt edges of his nails dramatically scraping downward as he did so.

In a fit of frustration, Satoru angrily banged his head against the doors, ignoring the horrified looks his secretary was sending his way from right behind him.

How… How could he have let Suguru go again? Had he not yet learned his lesson from before?

Was he always going to let fate rip Suguru away from him like this?

Or was he finally going to stop being a pussy ass bitch?

A spark of newfound resolve suddenly ignited inside of him as Satoru furiously jabbed at the elevator buttons, determined to give chase.

This time, I’m not letting you escape. Especially when I know you’ve found happiness without me.

Geto Suguru, you’re not allowed to find happiness without me.

I won’t allow it.

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Dashing out of the building, Satoru managed to catch sight of Suguru’s figure disappearing into the far distance—just in time.

“Suguru!”

Satoru quickened his pace, weaving through the bustling city streets, refusing to let Suguru elude him once more. He could feel the burn in his lungs and the incessant pounding of his heart, but he pressed on. Even as the surroundings gradually blurred in his vision, Satoru continued to race after Suguru, each step bringing him closer to the one he refused to let slip away again.

I want all of our lost time back. Every day of that lost decade that I missed out on you—I want it back.

“Suguru, please wait!”

He managed to grab the collar of Suguru’s jacket just as he turned the corner, gripping him with such firm strength it sent Suguru stumbling backward several steps, momentarily catching him off-guard.

Satoru closed the remaining distance between them, just as Suguru spun around to face him, his eyes reflecting surprise and... coy nervousness?

Wait. What?

What… was that smell?

Lifting his head suddenly, he instinctively angled his nose upward, sniffing hard, catching a tantalising scent.

And then it wafted to his nose like the irresistible aroma of waffles and chocolate and candy:

Suguru’s sweet, alluring scent.

God, he smelled so fucking good.

A deep, primal growl rumbled from the back of Satoru’s throat as he tipped his head back into its original posture, his manic blue eyes dilating as the earth-shattering realisation struck him:

Omega.

Suguru’s secondary gender in this world—was that of an omega. Satoru couldn’t register it before back in the office, because he’d been too busy trying to even reconcile the fact that Suguru was living, breathing, and existed in the same spatial realm as him. But now, in this quiet alleyway, Suguru’s pheromones were enveloping him whole, choking him in its sickeningly sweet embrace.

Before meeting Suguru, Satoru had often wondered about Suguru’s secondary gender in this brand new universe. He’d always leaned toward assuming Suguru would present as an alpha, much like himself, based on how they were the strongest—or at least used to be—in their former lives. It’d suck, because it’d mean they couldn’t copulate as easily as alpha-omega pairings could, but it wasn’t impossible. Alpha-alpha relationships were largely frowned upon, but they weren’t against the law. Satoru always believed they’d still be able to make it work, with the power of love.

He’d never even once entertained the possibility that Suguru could be an omega. Because what were the odds of the Heavens bestowing such kindness upon him? Satoru had gotten used to receiving the short end of the stick in all matters pertaining to love, and the idea that he could be granted the fortune of marking Suguru as his own, establishing a proper bond with him, and taking on the rightful responsibility as an alpha to breed him... just felt like such an unlikely dream.

And yet, here it was, the reality staring him right in the face:

Suguru, the person that he loved and cherished the most, was an omega.

Suguru was ripe for the very taking. Satoru could smell the lack of experience on him. His scent was pure; untouched. Untainted by the odour of any other alpha who could have claimed him.

And he was fucking compatible with Satoru.

In all thirty years of his life, Satoru had never felt this way about an omega before. While they said you couldn’t control biology, Satoru had never encountered an omega to whom he felt this drawn, even through scent alone.

This must be fate then, Satoru thought. The Heavens have destined you for me.

Suguru must have felt it too, for in the pregnant pause that followed, his expression shifted. A subtle blush tinted his cheeks, as his gaze flickered between Satoru’s eyes and his lips.

Satoru had been told his alpha scent was much too potent for most omegas to endure. It easily assailed their senses, and could effortlessly overpower a weaker omega, inducing submission in them. Satoru had always viewed his gift as more of a hindrance than a benefit, at times; but seeing Suguru’s mildly intoxicated gaze, enamoured by the magnetic pull of Satoru’s heightened pheromones, Satoru had never been more grateful for it than now.

“Hey… you,” Suguru softly whispered out, taking slow, deliberate blinks. “You were hitting on me back there, weren’t you? I knew it—”

But Satoru didn’t let him finish.

He couldn’t even bear a single second more of not claiming Suguru as his.

Outstretching his arm, Satoru gently cupped the back of Suguru’s head to pull him in close. Before Suguru could react, Satoru smashed their lips together and kissed him hard, desperately, greedily, just like the way he would always do in his wildest fantasies, succumbing to every one of his worst desires come to life. Suguru’s foxy eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t protest, his hands on Satoru’s chest slackening almost immediately, as though willingly and passionately surrendering to the whims of his… rightful alpha.

Pushing him up against a nearby wall where they’d be safe from prying eyes, Satoru hungrily deepened the kiss, propping one knee up in between of Suguru’s thighs that—were spreading a little too automatically for their own good. (Is it in an omega’s instincts to be so naturally slutty? Satoru thought. Or is Suguru just naturally such a—oh, he can’t even bear such a lewd thought. Satoru’s already growing far too hard for him to bear in this heat.)

“Mmmfff,” Satoru was completely merciless in his kiss, bruising and biting and breaking through the skin on Suguru’s lips like a feral animal, even drawing blood in the forcefulness of his kiss. His lust, his love, his adoration for Suguru—it was all pent-up, two lifetimes’ worth of it, and so even if Satoru was being particularly bold or aggressive, he didn’t care. Even if it meant Suguru might fear him; Satoru had faith Suguru would come around, eventually. He’d realise that Satoru was his one and only, in the same way he was Satoru’s one and only, and all would fall into place.

Besides, there was barely any hesitation in those beautiful half-lidded violet eyes, gazing at him from beneath his wispy lashes. Sweet, sweet moans continued to escape Suguru’s lips, one after another, each one in response to Satoru’s cruel bites and choking kisses.

“H…Hey… Nnn…. ah… ah…”

Almost instinctively, Suguru lifted his hips higher and squeezed his thighs needily around Satoru’s knee, eliciting a loud, uncontrollable groan from Satoru in the midst of their heated kiss. Suguru’s large, oversized jacket slipped off his shoulders and fell to his waist, revealing a t-shirt that appeared too snug a fit for his slender frame. His cute baseball cap tumbled from his head, exposing a high ponytail that was quickly coming loose due to how roughly Satoru was manhandling him.

Satoru broke away from the kiss just so he could briefly admire Suguru’s flushed state underneath him: torn lips, rosy cheeks, a drunken gaze, and untamed hair. Oh, he was so pretty. Too pretty. The sort of pretty that made you want to hurt him, so bad.

“Watcha looking at?” Suguru asked him smugly, knowing exactly how down bad Satoru was for him.

Satoru couldn’t respond. He felt, oddly, too… shy.

He decided to stop sucking on Suguru’s mouth, only to suck on the skin on Suguru’s neck instead. He sank his alpha canines into Suguru’s pale unmarred skin, nuzzling his nose against the sensitive area of Suguru’s scent glands. He could stay like this forever, getting drunk off his sweet omega pheromones. Suguru smelled so sweet, so lovely.

God, Suguru was going to drive him fucking crazy.

“I’m going to mate you, put a baby in you,” Satoru breathed out, his head nestled in the crook of his omega’s neck. “I’ve waited so long to do the worst things to you. You’re so fucking perfect. You smell so fucking good. I can’t help myself. I’ll make you mine this time, lock you up good at home. I’ll never let you leave. You’re not allowed to leave me ever again, Suguru.”

His lust-addled alpha brain made it hard for him to think. It was as if the very fabric of his thoughts was ablaze. Momentarily, Satoru wondered if Suguru had somehow induced an early heat in him, and that was why he’d ended up in such a state. In his hazy, burning brain, he only remembered impatiently stripping Suguru of his pants, and carelessly discarding it onto the ground. He remembered unbuttoning the front of his pants and pulling out his fully hardened cock, pressing it against where it needs to be. Suguru was so wet, he was dripping non-stop. Warm omega slick pooling on the floor.

He hardly needed any prep. Satoru grabbed hold of the underside of Suguru’s meaty thighs, holding him up with sheer raw strength, and spread them apart for easier access. He thrusted his hips forward, and felt the head of his cock slide in—easily.

“Ohhhh, fuck,” Satoru couldn’t help but curse, as his fingers dug into the flesh on Suguru’s thighs. He was sure sex with Suguru would have felt good in any universe, but to be fucking his sweet omega tightness? Oh, it was beyond his wildest dreams. Satoru couldn’t even describe the hot, blinding pleasure squeezing around his dick and coursing through the rest of his veins. His knees temporarily buckled, his legs almost losing strength. “Shit… Suguru, you’re so fucking tight. God, fuck, you’re so perfect, you were made to take all of my dick like this. I wish I knew earlier just how perfect you were. Perfectly shaped hole to take all of my cock.”

Suguru’s breath lodged in his throat, having thrown his arms around the alpha’s wide shoulders earlier, clenching onto him desperately for support. Clamping his eyes closed, each breath that left him was a struggle, drawn out, as he tried to acclimate to the excruciating size of the hard cock spearing deep inside of him. “Ah… ah, G…Gojo-sama… It’s so… Nnn…”

Gojo-sama. Hearing Suguru call him in such an unfamiliar manner was exciting in its own way, yes, but Satoru longed for the familiar warmth and intimacy of just “Satoru”.

Sliding the rest of his cock in, Satoru locked gazes with Suguru and made sure he heard his voice loud and clear when he brazenly demanded of him, bordering an alpha command, “I’m your Satoru. Call me Satoru.”

The effects were instantaneous. Suguru felt an immediate tightness constricting his throat, a visceral response to the authoritative resonance in his voice.

He couldn’t have his alpha mad at him!

“Satoruuu,” Suguru whimpered out, calling for his alpha just the way he’d wanted. Sweet, pleading violet looked back into Satoru’s eyes, begging for his alpha to be kinder to him.

A rush of warmth filled Satoru’s chest as memories came flooding back non-stop of SatoruSatoruSatoru—and in that moment, he felt seventeen again.

“Ohhh, Suguru,” Satoru moaned, as he drew Suguru in closer, pushing him to take all of his cock until it was curved up inside of his womb. Suguru took him so well with no complaints, even as he exhaled heavily with strained efforts, particularly for a virgin omega attempting to take Satoru’s monster size for the first time. He huffed and puffed, snivelling and whining into Satoru’s shoulders. But he still pliantly wrapped his legs around Satoru’s hips, unwilling to let go.

Satoru’s heart felt so full. He rocked inside of Suguru, whispering sweet nothings to him as he did so: “My sweet baby. I love you so goddamn much. You’re so good to me.”

It can’t all be in Satoru’s head. This can’t be as one-sided as he thought. Because he might hold memories of their shared past, but Suguru didn’t. Suguru knew him as a stranger. They’d met all of fifteen minutes ago, and here Suguru was, surrendering himself up to Satoru in a shady alley with no reservations whatsoever, all because Satoru made a move onto him.

He’d barely even fought. He’d hardly even tried to get away.

Suguru must like him. Satoru wasn’t delusional enough to presume it was love—yet. But at this juncture, being liked by Suguru was enough. He didn’t expect Suguru to return his feelings two-fold. Even in their previous lifetime together, Satoru never expected such a thing of Suguru. Even… even being liked a marginal amount, was enough.

Satoru loved Suguru that much. As long as Suguru was willing to give him a chance… that was all that mattered.

“You haven’t let any other man touch you, right? Only me?” Satoru questioned, anxious to know the answer. He could smell the virgin on Suguru, but he wanted to make sure. He had to make sure his beautiful Suguru hadn’t been tainted by anybody else.

“Nnn… No one else,” Suguru promised, burrowing his head into Satoru’s chest. “No one but you, alpha, ah, ah, ah….”

Satoru continued to fuck gently inside of him, even as his arms climbed up against Suguru’s back to squeeze him in a possessive embrace. He whispered to Suguru, over and over again, as he basked in the feeling of—completion, of being reunited with his Suguru after years and years of chasing after his shadow, of never wanting to feel so alone again, of all the what-ifs and could-have-beens finally turning into blissful reality: “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Confusion clouded Suguru’s eyes then, as though he still remained unsure about what... he’d really gotten caught up in. Because none of what had happened to him thus far could be considered normal, by any count. But he couldn’t bring himself to be mad at the handsome stranger who had done nothing but make eyes at him from the very first second they’d met. It was hard to; Gojo Satoru was the type of alpha that looked as though he’d just walked out of a dream. Of Suguru’s perfect daydream.

“I like you, too,” Suguru shyly admitted. It was hard not to give into Satoru’s advances when he looked and sounded like that. Suguru wasn’t blind; he knew perfectly who he’d been delivering to on the top floor of that office building. This man bore the very name of the corporation that ran countless properties of this city. If he ever wanted an alpha to mate with, Satoru was it. “You… ah, you’re really handsome. And you, you feel so good…”

A subtle ache tugged at Satoru’s heart, as if he’d wanted to hear something more, but Satoru stubbornly ignored it.

This wasn’t the Suguru of the past. There was no point harping on lost memories.

Suguru tightened the grip of his legs around Satoru’s waist, wantonly begging the alpha for more. As Satoru continued thrusting inside of him, Suguru softly moaned, giving into the inherent biology currently overruling all of his senses, “Ah, ah, I… don’t mind having your babies… I want to bear your babies, ah, give me, give me children, Satoru…”

Satoru couldn’t deny his omega if he tried. “Fuck,” Satoru groaned, as he grasped onto Suguru’s thighs so tight he was bound to leave red hand imprints. He kept at it; lifting Suguru at a rhythmic pace, with his back gliding up and down against the wall, effortlessly bouncing him onto his cock. “Suguru, babe, that’s all I want. I want to keep fucking you, keep putting babies in you. You’ll pop them out, one after another. You’re my omega, you understand? No one is allowed to touch you like I do.”

“Nn, nn, Satoru, Satoruu,” Suguru breathlessly agreed, resting his head against the wall, chewing against his lip in between his soft and sweet moans. Sweaty strands of hair sticking to his crimson cheeks, his ponytail having completely unravelled by now. Satoru fucked him with such urgency and determination, Suguru felt convinced Satoru wanted to plant his seed inside of him by the end of this day. “I won’t let anyone else touch me, alpha, I’ll be your one and only.”

Precum erupted from the head of his cock with every fluid motion, obscenely staining Suguru’s twitching hole. Slick and precum dribbled continuously from Suguru’s oozing entrance, trickling down the inner sides of his thighs. Adding further to the dirty concoction of a puddle that pooled at their feet.

God, Suguru felt so dirty. They were hidden in this alleyway, but weren’t really situated too far from the main road. If anyone walked by, they’d easily spot them from a mile away—and become unwilling voyeurs to their filthy fucking in broad daylight.

“Shit, I’m so close,” Satoru groaned, speeding up his thrusts, ramming himself harder and deeper inside of his omega. Going balls-deep each time, until the top curve of his dick had hit Suguru’s womb. It drew painful breaths from Suguru, sending his legs squeezing around Satoru each time. Hugging Satoru so tight, seeking comfort and protection from his alpha. But Satoru never relented. It felt so fucking good. “Shit, shit, shit. I want to knot you so fucking much, baby. You want that? You want me to make your belly full and round? Give you a baby like we said?”

Suguru clenched harder onto him, as though knowing it’d already hurt. But he still weakly nodded in response.

“Give me your knot, alpha,” Suguru whimpered.

His fingers latched onto Satoru’s short white locks of hair, as Satoru came with a loud groan, arching his head back in sheer bliss. He came harder than he’d ever before, experiencing the sort of ecstasy one could only have as an alpha. Times like these, this new universe didn’t seem so bad. He liked that having sex with Suguru here meant that they could seek pleasure from each other in entirely new—magical—ways that they could only dream of in their past universe.

“Nnn… ah… ah… ah… Satoru… Satoru…!”

For the second Satoru’s knot inflated inside of him, Suguru’s body was quickly giving into the nature of his biology and cumming plenty himself, his body twitching in little cute spasms as his small cock trembled in between his thighs. If his alpha felt good, then Suguru felt good. It was in an omega’s nature to please. And Satoru was very pleased.

Their alpha-omega pheromones mingled in the air and hung over them post-orgasm, smelling so potent and overpowering it continued to muddle their minds in a haze of lust.

Satoru didn’t forget to kiss him as they waited for his knot to slowly take. He knew the act of knotting hurt, but Suguru was doing such a good job pretending it didn’t. Satoru’s hands lovingly reached out to grasp at Suguru’s cheeks and pull him in for another sweet kiss. And another. And another. Satoru planted kisses all over his face, his eyelids, his nose, his mouth. He was so in love, and his heart couldn’t stop racing in his chest. He couldn’t believe it. He daren’t even dream it. But Suguru—was finally his.

He embraced Suguru tight, and snuggled his head into the crook of Suguru’s shoulder, murmuring out: “Suguru baby, I love you so much. I’ve waited so long for this. I’ve killed for you. I’ve destroyed worlds for you. You’re the boy of my dreams. I’m so happy that we can be together in this universe. That you’re an omega, and that I’m an alpha. No one else can rip you from me anymore.”

Suguru fluttered his eyes shut and quivered underneath every one of his kisses, basking in the genuine warmth of his affections. He’d never felt so loved before. So cherished, so cared for. He didn’t know a thing about this man, and yet…

The thought of becoming his omega didn’t seem so bad.

He slowly peeked an eye open, revealing a glint of violet shining through.

“Satoru, you’re so sweet to me,” Suguru happily whispered. And then, for reasons unbeknownst to Satoru, he uttered the godforsaken words that still haunted Satoru’s dreams to this very day, that still wouldn’t leave him, no matter how hard he tried: “At least curse me a little, at the end.”

And then it hit Satoru like a splash of cold water to the face.

And the dream he’d willingly walked into didn’t feel so much like a dream anymore.

Satoru immediately came to his senses, the traces of his dreamlike haze from before dissipating as the weight of what he’d done to his precious Suguru finally settled upon him. The vividness of the moment began to blur, and suddenly, he became all too aware of the Suguru lying limp in his arms.

The Suguru still buried around his hard cock. His belly slightly protruding, with the shallow imprint of the top curve of Satoru’s cock. He was still taking shallow breaths, as he cosily acquainted himself with the feeling of his alpha’s knot. There was a hint of shyness to be found on Suguru’s beautiful face; but also, a sense of relief and happiness to have acquired Satoru as his mate.

And he was smiling just like Suguru did in his very last moments, looking genuinely at peace with himself.

With Satoru.

The only problem was: Satoru took one look at him, and felt cold dread hit him at the very core.

This was a mistake.

“I shouldn’t have done this,” Satoru blurted out in full-on panic, appearing more than crossed with himself. He hung his head with guilt, unable to even meet Suguru in the eyes. He ran a hand up his hair, as he clenched both eyes painfully shut. Long white lashes mocking Suguru. “I, I took advantage of you. Fuck! This shouldn’t have happened. I don’t know what came over me.”

He knew exactly what came over him. He saw Suguru’s lovely face, and couldn’t remember anything else. He just had to have him—no matter what.

And now he was dearly paying the price.

He couldn’t even pull his dick out of Suguru yet; it’d injure them both.

The smile evaporated from Suguru’s face as quickly as it had come. As he parted his lips to question the sudden change in his alpha’s demeanour, nervousness and fear crept into his tone, “H…Huh? I don’t… understand.”

Satoru barely registered the hurt in his voice; he was far too concerned with the inner turmoil presently brewing in his mind. Curling his hands into tight fists, he resisted the urge to hurt himself. The downturn of his lips betraying the heavy remorse he felt. “I’m so sorry, Suguru. I can’t do this to you.”

You’re not the same person. And yet I can’t seem to separate you from him.

“You don’t deserve this, I’m sorry. My love for you is impure. It’s not genuine.”

I love you. I’ll always love you, in whichever shape or form. But this—this is wrong.

“I, I treat you as a shadow of him. I’m sorry.”

You deserve the love I know you deserve.

“I haven’t marked you yet, so it’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

The second his knot deflated, he lowered Suguru back down onto the ground and picked up the pair of pants they’d discarded earlier, anxious to help his omega get properly dressed.

In the face of his disquieting silence, Suguru nudged him again, tugging at his alpha’s wrist: “Satoru, I don’t understand.”

Evidence of their copulation was still freshly leaking out of him. His neck bore evidence of having been mauled by an alpha. Every bit of his scent was already smelling like Satoru.

And Satoru was telling him that it was… all a mistake?

And that this was all he was leaving him with?

“Hey, I’m sorry. I, I’ll find a way to make it up to you. But I have to go.”

Without so much as casting Suguru one last glance, Satoru turned on his heels. Hurrying off back into the direction of his office. The distance between them growing with each brisk step, each hurried stride that Satoru took. As though Satoru was more than determined to get away from him.

As though Suguru was mere filth to be discarded after being used for his alpha’s carnal desires.

Suguru stood there in that alley with cum and slick still running down his thighs, while clutching his oversized jacket, watching Satoru retreat into the far distance. Watching the crowded city streets swallow Satoru’s tall, handsome form.

Leaving Suguru to wonder whose shadow exactly he was replacing in Satoru’s eyes.

And why couldn’t it have been him, instead.

.

.

.

Satoru had been sick to the stomach with what he’d done.

He got his secretary to track down a Geto Suguru working in one of the bars nearby downtown, and arranged to send him a huge bouquet of apology flowers and a cheque for a million yen. It definitely wasn’t enough to make up for his transgression in that alleyway, but it was all he could come up with.

He didn’t hear back from Suguru. He didn’t expect to.

Once all of that was done, Satoru slipped back into the rhythm of his daily routine, of navigating a life without Geto Suguru.

Waking up, washing his face. Brushing his teeth, pulling open his bathroom cabinet where his bottle of pills sat, the lure of it stronger than ever now that he had to live with the haunting reminder of what he’d done. Of the actions he couldn’t undo.

Of the knowledge that Suguru was living, breathing and existing just mere streets away from him, but Satoru couldn’t do a thing.

Satoru slept less, ate less, spoke less. He retreated into a semblance of his former self, not that there was much of it to begin with. Sweet violet eyes, dark alleyway. Hands spreading his thighs, lips planted on his neck. Satoru woke up from nightmares replaying the entire fiasco in vivid detail, covered in sweat and—soiled pants. Every single time.

I promised the Heavens that if I ever saw you again, I wouldn’t ever mess it up.

Well, he was wrong.

.

.

.

Months went by but Suguru continued to remain a permanent fixture in his mind, never fading. Satoru had gotten used to living a life cast in the shadow of Suguru, but it didn’t mean that the ache in his heart ever lessened. Instead, new questions had sprung up in the place of the what-ifs from before: how was Suguru doing? Had he found another alpha yet? And… had he already forgotten about me?

Satoru was but a mere stranger to him after all, who had randomly jumped him in an alley and then left right afterwards—like the fucking coward that he was. The worst kind of alpha there was. Forcing himself onto an omega, showering him with declarations of love and promises for more, only to be struck with some sort of post-nut clarity and regret and then deserting him out of… what, some guilt-ridden sense of embarrassment? Shame? Could that even ever make up for the vile things he’d done to Suguru?

Today was the same old: waking up with more shame and regret, and a pair of soiled pants. Satoru parked his car—he really missed the convenience of teleportation—and walked into the lobby of his office building, too distracted by his thoughts as usual to notice the immediate attention and fawning from his female co-workers and receptionists.

He noted, instead, a pregnant omega kneeling on the floor in the lift lobby, hastily collecting a folder of documents they had accidentally spilled. With hurried apologies, the omega bowed his head profusely to every office worker who had to sidestep them to reach the elevators.

Satoru quickly rushed to their aid, setting his briefcase on the ground, choosing to take the time to help collate the scattered documents on the floor instead.

The pregnant omega barely raised his gaze, and yet was softly murmuring out yet another apology.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, it happens to the best of us sometimes,” Satoru assured him.

The omega immediately froze at the distinctive sound of his voice, and it was in that moment that Satoru caught a whiff of the sudden fear permeating their scent.

And how familiar and strikingly similar the scent was to his own.

Pregnant omegas often had their biology altered; their scent would transform to mirror that of the alpha with whom they had mated, replacing their original sweet omega smells. Their scent wasn’t meant to be appealing to anyone else but their designated alpha, who had now staked a claim over them.

And this pregnant omega kneeling before him—smelled just like Satoru.

Fearfully, sweet violet eyes slowly lifted to meet Satoru’s peering eyes.

Even if he’d lost the shine in his gaze, Suguru still looked so beautiful to him.

His dull orbs accentuated the heaviness of his under-eye bags, and his lovely heart-shaped face had lost most of its plumpness and now looked gaunt and worn.

Suguru surely mustn’t have been eating well these past few months.

Satoru’s breath, however, was still stolen from him. “Suguru,” he choked out in a whisper, feeling so incredibly relieved to be seeing him again.

His gaze quickly drifted downward to where Suguru’s round belly peeked through the frumpy-looking frock he was wearing, though, and suddenly he felt as though his entire world was spinning.

Suguru… pregnant.

Pregnant… Suguru.

Suguru… with child.

Suguru was with child!

That belly looked quite heavy. Suguru must have been pregnant for quite some time now. And Satoru knew so keenly that it’d been six full months since their unexpected tryst in that alley. Satoru only needed to take one look at Suguru’s bulging tummy, and knew right away in his gut that the baby was his.

For, after all, that scent alone—was unmistakably tinged with his.

Upon realising his secret had been uncovered, Suguru quickly grabbed a stack of papers, using it as a shield to cover his stomach.

“It’s, it’s not what you think,” Suguru angrily stammered out, barely hiding the disdain and scorn he had for his alpha. Because that ultimately was still what Satoru was to him. His alpha. No matter if he’d deserted him all these months ago. “It’s, it’s not yours.”

He was lying. Suguru was blatantly lying through his very teeth.

His alpha would always be able to tell.

Satoru’s hand slowly reached over, longing to touch him, but just as he approached, Suguru suddenly yelped, feeling an excited kick in his stomach—the baby in his womb already reacting to the presence of its father.

“Baby, baby, calm down, it’s nothing, he’s nothing,” Suguru began cooing affectionately to his baby, stroking his belly and speaking in such a motherly way—oh, being a mother suited Suguru so much—that bearing witness to the sight of it all instantly melted Satoru’s heart. The kicks in his womb gradually dwindled down, as the baby heeded its mother’s words, calming and surrendering to sleep under Suguru’s soft petting. “There, there. You’re being so good for mama. Go back to sleep, mm’kay?

“Suguru…” Satoru’s voice trembled, his gaze downcast. Feeling devastated, he shut his eyes, as he mourned the alpha, no, father, he should have been. “You should have told me.”

Suguru refused to look at him. His voice left him, strangled. Worn down. Beaten up. “You paid me hush money to go away. I didn’t think you would have cared.”

“Suguru, I,” Satoru urgently said, unable to contain the rush of—excitement? Shock? Fear? Happiness? Whatever it was, Satoru knew he wanted this. He’d always loved Suguru, and now there was a baby added to their mix. They’d finally have the family he’d always dreamt of; but was too cowardly to have. “This changes things. I, I’d have taken good care of you. You can’t raise this baby alone. You can’t still be working two jobs… can you?”

The once-oversized work jacket, slash uniform, now fit comically tight around his shoulders. Suguru might have abandoned the baseball cap, but it was clear that he was currently on some sort of delivery.

Satoru’s forehead creased in worry, as he put two and two together. “I thought you had quit your delivery job. I haven’t seen you around here in months.”

Suguru sucked in a long breath. “I did,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “But then the bar found out I was pregnant, and kicked me out. It’s bad for optics, or so they say. An unmated pregnant omega made for especially bad business. So, I’m back here now.”

The emphasis on unmated felt like a brutal punch to Satoru’s gut. But he knew he deserved it.

The slippers Suguru wore looked too small for his feet. They’d become so swollen, fat and blistered. It looked incredibly painful for him to walk. Satoru’s stomach churned at the very sight.

How could Suguru live like this?

Because of his inadequacies, his omega has had to suffer so much. Satoru had abandoned him, and left him as a single mother to birth a kid he probably hadn’t even wanted. He’d led Suguru to believe he wasn’t even wanted.

“The cheque I gave you wasn’t enough?” Satoru softly asked, in disbelief.

Frustration radiated off Suguru’s entire being. Angrily, he seethed, “I burned it. I didn’t want your hand-outs given out of pity.”

God, fuck. Satoru had really messed things up with Suguru, hadn’t he?

He ripped the documents away from Suguru’s hands and took charge of carrying them instead. Using his other arm, he helped Suguru up, and got him back onto his feet. But even then, Satoru’s hands refused to leave him. Satoru held Suguru tight, even as Suguru attempted to resist him. He struggled futilely against Satoru’s hold, but the strong grip around his shoulders never relented.

“Hey, sweetheart, c’mere,” Satoru whispered to him, pushing him along. “Come up with me to my office. We’ll talk more, there.”

Suguru’s temper sparked, as he continued to noisily protest, “I don’t want to. There’s nothing to talk about. If I wanted money, I’d have come to you long ago. This child of mine,” Suguru hissed venomously through his teeth, “has no father.”

Ah. That one cut deep.

“Suguru, you know I love you,”

“You don’t,” and tears burn pathetically at the corners of Suguru’s eyes as he divulged, despite knowing it’d give away more than he’d like, “You love someone else. You told me. I was just—some sort of sick replacement for them. I felt so fucking… so fucking stupid! I don’t, I don’t want to be a stand-in for anyone. So no, thank you, I don’t need you in my life, Satoru.”

Ah…

Satoru’s heart wrenched at all the things Suguru didn’t know.

But I’ve destroyed worlds for you.

“It’s not like that,” Satoru insisted, intense blue eyes boring into his. “Suguru, baby, I’ll prove it to you. Can we talk more in my office, please? I love you so fucking much, and it hurts me so much to see you in so much pain. I want to make it up to you. Please, baby, give me just this one chance. Will you at least hear me out?”

Suguru wanted nothing more than to refuse him and stomp on his heart as he had casually done to his, but the omega in him still so desperately yearned for his alpha. Suguru wiped furiously at his eyes.

“If I don’t like what I hear, I’m leaving.”

“Alright, I won’t stop you,” Satoru said, even as he squeezed Suguru harder in his embrace upon hearing that. “But I’m going to do my best.”

This time, Satoru was determined to do right by Suguru.

.

.

.

Satoru instructed his secretary to clear his schedule for the rest of the day, ignoring the bewildered looks she was throwing at him and the pregnant omega adamantly avoiding her gaze in his arms. Then, he rattled off on a list of things he needed her to get to his office stat, including but not limited to: prenatal vitamins, folic acid supplements, freshly cooked bird’s nest, compression socks for sore feet, leg creams, and a back massager.

As she hastened off to fulfill his grocery list, Satoru continued to escort Suguru down the hallway to his private office. He carefully locked the doors, barricading Suguru from the exit, and directed him to take a seat on his plush sofa.

Suguru hesitated, but took a seat anyway, knowing he couldn’t run fast enough even if he tried.

The whole office reeked of Satoru’s scent. Suguru hated how comforting it was to him.

After all, he never thought he’d ever reunite with the father of his child again.

“I don’t want a single cent,” Suguru was the first to pipe up, as his hands sank into the luxuriously soft fabric of the sofa beneath him. He hated the comfort of it all; a burning reminder of the life he could have had. “I, I can’t deal with being handed pity money again. But I know important people like you won’t recognise illegitimate children like… like the one I’m carrying in my womb right now,” he grasped his soft belly as though his life depended on it. The baby wasn’t even fully formed, and he already loved them so much. Despite how much his heart hurt for his child, he still held his head up high, unwilling to show his wounded pride. “But rest assured I won’t come after your inheritance. I won’t tell anyone it’s a Gojo. No one will ever have to know.”

The way Suguru visibly recoiled and flinched hard as Satoru subsequently took a seat next to him told the alpha all that he needed to know. Suguru must have grown so accustomed to the disappointment, to the act of being rejected by his alpha, that he just simply couldn’t endure anymore of such a thing. He couldn’t subject his fragile heart to any further heartache.

Satoru was eager to nurse those naked wounds of his.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not here to hurt you,” Satoru tried to soothe him, as he once more spread his arms out in an attempt to hug him. “Can I touch you? Baby, please?”

Suguru looked away. But Satoru only knew it was so that he wouldn’t see the angry tears springing to his eyes.

“Do whatever you want,” Suguru bitterly muttered under his breath. “You’re used to just taking whatever you want, whenever you want it, anyway.”

…Yeah, Satoru really deserved that one.

Still, it wasn’t enough to deter Satoru from encircling his arms around his omega, and forcing Suguru to rest his head against his chest. He consciously emitted his pheromones, knowing that it would most likely help calm his omega in distress. And it did. Suguru slowly, but surely, relaxed into a state of calmness, his breaths gingerly slowing, his fingers no longer trembling as hard as it did before. Cradling the back of Suguru’s head with his large palm, Satoru crushed him into a protective embrace, topping it off even with a tender kiss planted against Suguru’s forehead.

His omega… was finally at peace. Even the baby in his womb was at peace.

Suguru’s breaths stuttered, as his hand gently moved to tenderly caress his belly.

“Baby’s never been this calm before,” Suguru quietly uttered, reluctant to admit such a thing. “I’m shocked.”

Satoru’s lips spread into a small smile. Playfully, he suggested, “Perhaps mama has never been this calm before.”

Suguru’s brow twitched. He didn’t seem to want to encourage it—whatever this was, happening between them right now.

Satoru kissed his forehead again. He couldn’t help it. “Suguru, you smell even sweeter than that day I met you.” It was doing things to him; it was quickly melting his brain. The very knowledge that Suguru was now heavy with his child made Satoru want to kiss Suguru all over, and assert his claim over him, again, and again, and again.

“So, it’s just the pheromones making you this way,” disappointment seeped from Suguru’s voice, like he… shouldn’t have expected any better. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I don’t know why I even came here.”

“It’s not the pheromones,” Satoru quickly rushed to reassure him, his tone abruptly shifting to a grave seriousness. “Suguru, I told you I loved you back then, and I meant it.”

Suguru’s voice was quiet. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he ultimately said. “I hardly know you, and you hardly know me. We’re basically strangers. You don’t owe me anything. If you love someone else, it’s okay. It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll live.”

But Satoru could feel the sadness emanating off his omega; despite the thick walls he was trying to put up.

Satoru’s heart clenched, as he asked, determined to know, “It’s not okay, though, is it?”

Because with or without a mating mark, a pregnant omega essentially was bonded to the alpha of their child. No matter how much Suguru tried to deny it, he would never escape him.

“You’re not okay,” Satoru reiterated again, pursing his lips together. “It must have been so painful, going through this pregnancy alone. I’ve heard of pregnant omegas who couldn’t endure the loneliness and either lost their child, or their lives in the process. Suguru, it’s not going to be wise to stay away from me if you wish to keep this baby. From now on, I’m going to be the one that takes good care of you, okay?”

For a moment, Satoru sounded so goddamn convincing.

But then Suguru recalled that stark moment of his alpha rejecting him in that alleyway, and his heart felt like it was crumbling to dust once more.

Goddamn pregnancy hormones. Suguru hated how easily tears welled up in his eyes.

“But I,” Suguru trembled inside, as he wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stifle the cold. Keeping his head down as he mustered his entire courage to selfishly confess, “I don’t want an alpha that loves someone else. I want,” he struggled to breathe, as he swallowed back a sob, his mouth going dry. He hated even vocalising his innermost desires like this aloud, “I want you to love me, just me.”

Suguru being so brutally honest with him like this—it was a first. In both worlds.

“Oh, baby,” Satoru lovingly said. “I do, I do love only you. You don’t understand. I only said what I said back then because—” and Satoru’s throat tightened as the realisation sank in that, no matter whichever way he said it, he’d still come across as batshit insane. But he still had to try. Inhaling deeply, he finally let out, “Listen, I… I’ve never felt like I belonged to this universe. I hold memories of my past life. In that world, I was madly in love with you. But circumstances forced my hand, and I,” oh, boy. He really didn’t want to have to admit this. “I had to hurt you. It was a different world back there. Evil lurked everywhere. Sometimes in the form of cursed spirits, but mostly within us humans. I only realised it when it was too late. By then, I’d already lost you.”

Suguru’s breaths quickly faltered.

He could read in between the lines.

Suddenly he was growing apprehensive, and Satoru’s touches didn’t feel as comforting anymore.

“You took my life,” Suguru said, in an almost accusatory tone.

Satoru couldn’t bring himself to lie. “I regret it every single day, Suguru.”

Hesitantly, Suguru continued to ask, with one hand clutching protectively onto his belly, “Have you returned here to finish the job?”

Surprise and disbelief swept across Satoru’s face at the very question. He hastily shook his head, raising his two hands rather defensively: “Suguru—Wha—No, of course not! I would never—oh, baby. Did you really think I came back here to hurt you?”

Suguru honestly didn’t know. Once more, he carefully emphasised, narrowing his foxy little eyes, “I hardly know you.”

Satoru remained defeated. “I know. But I’ve loved you for two lifetimes now, Suguru. And I’ve fucked it up each time. I know I’m the last person to deserve a second chance, but now that I know you’re carrying my baby, I can’t bear the thought of letting you down again. In fact, I… I’m frankly surprised you’re being so calm about this, about what I’ve just told you.”

Suguru looked oddly conflicted. Finally, he brought himself to admit, “When I was seventeen, I had my first boyfriend.”

The alpha felt his heart sink. I thought I was Suguru’s first. “You did?”

“Yeah,” Suguru swallowed tightly. “He was very nice. A gentleman. He always kept his hands to above the waist. I often asked him why he liked me. He… never seemed to be able to explain why. He always said he felt drawn to me, like he had to protect me. Like he needed to get to me in time, to save me.”

Satoru had a peculiar feeling about this. “Go on.”

“One evening, he was taking a nap next to me. Then he suddenly woke up, with fear in his eyes. He looked right at me, and told me his dream about a world filled with curses. He said my life ended, and so the world had ended. That a madman had cursed the rest of them because of me, and that Tokyo had drowned in screaming purple. Then he passed back out, and when he awoke again and I asked him about the dream, he couldn’t remember a thing.”

He already knew the answer, but Satoru asked anyway, “What was his name?”

Suguru’s gaze slowly flickered upward. “If you can tell me his name, Satoru, I’ll forever believe everything that you say.”

Satoru’s heart leaped into his throat.

Without missing a beat, he whispered out, “Nanami Kento.”

The look on Suguru’s face said it all.

“The madman that destroyed the world,” Suguru softly asked. “It was you?”

Satoru hesitated to say, “I’m not proud of it.”

“The person that you loved,” Suguru asked again. “It was me?”

Satoru’s gaze flitted downward. “It has always been you.”

“Then, the shadow you said that I was,” Suguru said. “You were talking about past me?”

Satoru felt so stupid, when he heard it put like that. His hand raked through his hair, as he desperately tried to explain himself, “I didn’t want to force memories of a life you never lived unto you. You’ll always be my Suguru, but I—I’m so messed up, that I didn’t want to hurt you. I want you to be loved, for you. Suguru, you—you don’t know how lonely it has been, trapped in a world where no one can remember the things that I do. I, I still selfishly remember,” and Satoru drew in a long, scarring breath at this, as he fluttered his eyes shut, reminiscing about a world long gone, “The first time I ever saw you. It wasn’t in this office, it was back at the entrance of jujutsu high. You were holding your bags, and you’d just come from your small village. You hadn’t noticed I was there, until you heard the crinkle of the leaf I stepped on and turned around just to greet me. The sun met your eyes just perfectly. You raised your hand high to block the sun, and then you warmly smiled at me. You waved at me. And you dropped your bags and extended your other arm, saying, ‘Hiya, I’m Suguru’.”

Suguru had never lived this life, and yet every detail manifested so vividly in his mind.

The pain etched on Satoru’s face was real. The memories he shared were real. The deep sorrow in his gaze was real.

And suddenly, all anger dissipated from Suguru’s heart.

And all the broken bits felt like it was quickly mending.

Suguru lifted his two hands, gently cradling Satoru’s shaking face.

“Is that true,” Suguru quietly asked, with wide violet eyes. “Is that how we really met?”

It felt like Suguru had finally delved into the deep crevices of Satoru’s fucked up mind to truly understand him.

“Yeah,” Satoru struggled out. “Yeah, it was.”

Suguru seemed delightfully curious about their past together. “We were high school students? We met so young?”

Suguru’s smile was gentle. Kind. “Yeah. We were only sixteen.”

“Then, how old were we when we died?”

Satoru warily answered, “Twenty-seven. The same age you are now. But, for ten years before you did… We lost touch. We hardly spoke. We’d gone on our separate ways. You… made your decision, and you left me. I only had you back in my sights for a brief while, before…”

Before they made me do it.

Unexpectedly, Satoru was blinking back tears in his eyes.

It seemed enough to convince Suguru of everything.

“I’m… so sorry, Satoru, you must have suffered so much,” Suguru whispered to him, now so very willingly wrapping his arms around Satoru’s shoulders. “I’m… not going to say that what you did to me was right or wrong. In that world, or this world. But I know it must have been hard on you all these years. And to be honest I,” Suguru’s lips—strangely, were curling at the revelation, his cheeks now slightly flushing. Satoru’s breath hitched at the beautiful sight. “I can’t bring myself to care if you love the past me more, or the me now. What matters is that you love me, only me. That’s all I want. That’s all I ever needed to know. It’s alright if you cling onto memories of the past, Satoru. I… I’m okay with that. We’ll build more memories in this life, anyway… Won’t we?”

In the end, it was Suguru who only ever understood him.

“Suguru, I,” Satoru gasped out, choking back on his tears. “We’ve barely met in this life, and I’ve already done you so much wrong. I’m sorry. I really, I really wanted to get it right this time. And I really still want to.”

“Hey, hey,” Suguru hummed back so sweetly to him, uttering words that somehow, magically healed all of Satoru’s heartbreak in that very instant: “I believe you.”

Down below, the baby in his belly suddenly kicked, as though also doing its best to comfort its father.

Suguru let out a wry chuckle. “I think the baby believes in you, too.”

Tearfully, Satoru engulfed them both in a puppy-like hug. Rather hopefully, he asked of his newfound family, “Suguru, do you think we’ll finally be happy in this life?”

His omega looked back at him with a gaze filled with soft affection, wearing the same smile as the day he had stood right beneath the sun.

And with that smile, his sweet violet eyes promised him: “We can try.”