Chapter Text
Spring bloomed in the form of frail buds between the gray sky and the muddled earth. The ground and branches were still frosted with the residue of winter that stubbornly clung to the bleakness of the village, and the wind still held a cold bite.
Kenma’s hands and feet were cold underneath his clothes. He shifted closer to the fireplace, seeking warmth from the hearth to seep back into his circulation. His mind was anywhere else but present.
He watched his mother carefully adjust the kimono on the hanging rack. She had just picked it up earlier this morning and she hadn’t stopped fussing over it ever since she showed it to him. She was humming as her delicate hands brushed over the fabric, a shine in her golden eyes.
It was perhaps the most expensive thing they owned in the entire house, and it was meant for him.
Kenma couldn’t fight back the guilt that built up in his chest every time he laid eyes on it, but he tried to keep it hidden under his carefully crafted mask.
His parents had made the unanimous decision to purchase the expensive fabric and have it tailored for him after spending a long time saving up the money. Kenma didn’t know, they had intended for it to be a surprise. His parents were so happy and proud about the entire ordeal that Kenma felt that showing anything other than gratitude would be disrespectful and beyond ungrateful.
So when his mother had asked him if he was excited to wear it tomorrow, he smiled and said yes. He kept his smile on even as his heart stuttered in his chest and his fingers curled into his palms. Kenma could feel his mother’s eyes linger on him as he averted his gaze back to the fireplace.
He heard her let out a soft sigh before he sensed her settling down onto the chair beside him. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the crackling of the fire and watching the flames dance.
“Kenma. Is there something you’d like to talk about?”
Kenma hesitated for a moment before shrugging. He shrunk in on himself, pulling his shoulders up to his ears. His mother was still studying him, clearly worried, and that made him feel the weight of guilt all the more prominently.
“I’m fine, I promise.” Kenma answered quickly. “Just nervous about tomorrow.”
It wasn’t exactly a lie. He was extremely nervous about tomorrow but it was only half of the truth. Kenma wasn’t just nervous, he was petrified. He always knew the day would come when he would finally be paired off to an alpha. But now that the imminent moment was right at his very doorsteps, Kenma found it increasingly difficult to pretend that it wasn’t happening anymore.
Tomorrow, he would be among three other omegas to be paired off. As is tradition, once they came of age. None of them knew who they were paired with until the ceremony began, and the alphas were just as clueless.
His parents had been so happy and excited for the day to arrive ever since they returned from the shrine. Almost everyone in the village was. It was a significant reason for felicity and celebration, the union of new mates. To Kenma, it was a major step into a new chapter of his life and he knew it would break his parents’ hearts if they knew how troubled he was feeling.
Kenma could see the worry in his mother’s eyes. She wasn’t sold on his pretence and he didn’t know how else to reassure her.
Kenma smiled. He scooted over so that he could rest his head on his mother’s shoulder and she accommodated him. After tomorrow, he only had a week left with his parents before he would be moving away to start a new life with his mate.
It wasn’t as though he couldn’t come back to see them again. He could. But it just wouldn’t be the same anymore. As a mated omega, Kenma would have his own house to care for and his own life to be responsible for, one that he would soon be building with his alpha. The concept still felt foreign to him.
Kenma’s gaze locked onto the woven bracelet that his mother wore around her left wrist. It was neatly made, by his father, as a courting gift. Every alpha makes one by hand for their omega, which they would present to them on the day of the ceremony.
It was always a funny imagery to envision any alpha doing something so delicate that required extreme care and precision. Most of the alphas did labour intensive work around the village, like building and hunting. To imagine them putting down their axes and hammers in exchange for yarns and fabric scissors will always be a hilarious sight to him.
Kenma recalled the first time he saw his father making a new one for his mother, when he was very young. It had been a surreal sight to see his father sit in front of the workbench, with all the equipment and yarn, and a stern face of concentration.
He had sat by his father’s side, watching intently as the alpha’s large and callous fingers wove the yarn with practiced ease. Crisscrossing and guiding the yarn as though he was crafting magic.
“One day, you’ll find yourself a worthy alpha who will learn how to make one for you. And that alpha will take care of you and bring you all the happiness in the world.”
His father had said and Kenma had nodded with bright, excited eyes. At the ripe age of six, he couldn’t wait for the day to arrive sooner. Now, twelve years later, he could still feel the same flutter in his heart, though it was faint and overpowered by the anxious fears of the unknown.
By tomorrow, Kenma would have a bracelet of his own. One that was made for him by his alpha.
It felt like forever ago since Kenma was at the shrine, deciding his own fate, when in reality it had only been less than two weeks past. He had to choose between two boxes in front of his family and the village elders, something that he had both anticipated doing and stressed over since he was old enough to learn about the traditional pairing method.
It was a practice that their village used to decide the pairing of new mates. It relied on nothing but fate, and the decisions that the young omegas and alphas make on their own accord. It was a key to avoiding conflicts and disputes, and it had worked for centuries in keeping the peace.
Kenma had heard stories of forced marriages in other villages, and alphas fighting over omegas that ended in horrendous bloodshed. He much preferred the way they did things here in their village, but it didn’t help to quell the anxiety bubbling inside him.
Kenma still found it absurd that by tomorrow, he would finally know which alpha he would be mated to for the rest of his life. The thought unsettled him to a certain degree, but he accepted the fact without much choice or fight because it was tradition. It was peaceful and uncomplicated matchmaking.
He could still picture the boxes vividly. He had spent a good ten minutes staring at them before he finally caved and decided to follow his instincts and chose the one on the right. Inside it was a pale yellow cloth neatly folded into a flower. Nothing else to enclose any information about who it was that he had chosen.
It wouldn’t be revealed to him until the ceremony begins. Kenma would have to recognise his choice by the colour of the bracelet that his alpha would present, and his alpha wouldn’t know who had chosen him until Kenma walked up to him to accept his courting gift.
Kenma let out a soft sigh before sitting up on his bed. He had been trying to fall asleep for an hour now and it had proven to be fruitless. He wondered if any of the other participants of tomorrow’s ceremony was able to get any sleep. He doubted anyone could deal with the nervous anxiety.
He shifted closer to the window, undoing the latch and pushing open the panels. Kenma gazed up at the open sky, tracing the stars and the wispy outline of the moon behind the grey clouds. Trying to calm his racing thoughts.
Kenma tried not to dwell too much on the matter but he couldn’t help himself with sorting through the pieces in his mind in order to find out who else would be at the ceremony tomorrow. He hardly ever left the house unless his mother required him to, therefore Kenma wasn’t acquainted with a lot of people and only knew of them by name and description from his mother’s stories.
He knew of an omega that lived nearby, who was the same age as him. Kenma could only assume that the Sugawaras’ youngest son would be present tomorrow too. The mere thought of a familiar face brought him a bit of comfort. Just a slight bit.
Kenma was hoping that he could see the moon. The sight of it always amazed him and brought him comfort, but not tonight. The moon stayed hidden from him behind the clouds and even the stars were starting to hide themselves.
Sighing, Kenma reached over to pull the panels in but stopped midway when he noticed some movements in the distance below.
Someone was swinging a bamboo sword in the small clearing between some houses that were on the lower slope of the hill. There wasn’t enough moonlight for Kenma to see clearly, but he could vaguely make out the fluid movement of the stranger enough to realise that he was practicing a sword dance.
He must be an alpha then. One of the four that would be paired off tomorrow.
As is tradition in this village, the alphas were required to perform a kenbu during the ceremony and the omegas would finish the performance with a kyomai before the feast began. Kenma had his fair share of practice, but even he wouldn’t be so concerned and determined as to practice in the middle of the cold night.
The alpha appeared tall and broad, and the only redeeming physical quality that Kenma could make out from the dimness of the night was a mop of dark hair. His movements were fluid, and his timing between each pause and step was precise. It ruled out the fact that it was a last minute ditch effort to practice, but more so that the alpha had wanted to perfect and polish his performance down to the minor details.
It made Kenma feel self conscious and wondered if he should have spent another extra hour today practicing his part of the dance. Granted, the kyomai was less difficult than a kenbu. He couldn’t imagine having to wield a bamboo sword as he danced, and somehow manipulate the weapon into an extended part of himself while still remembering all of his steps.
Kenma felt both relieved and frustrated that he couldn’t get a clear look of the alpha’s face. It took him a moment to agree with himself that it was better if he didn’t know who it was. The entire purpose of the blind matchmaking was to make things uncomplicated for everyone. And Kenma liked to keep things uncomplicated.
With one last furtive glance at the stranger, still sword dancing in the dark, Kenma latched the panels of the window and finally went to sleep.