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“Nothing?” Atsumu asks angrily over the phone, scratching his scruff roughly. “There’s gotta be something.”
“None that I can find,” Motoya answers. “Or nothing of importance at least.”
“I want everything that you did find,” Atsumu demands. “I don’t trust him.”
Motoya sighs. “Could it be that you don’t trust him because he’s the first alpha that Kiyoomi hasn’t sneered at?”
Atsumu scoffs once, then another time as he scrambles for an excuse that isn’t damning. “Hardly, he’s a fucking freak and my gut is telling me that he’s trouble.”
Motoya hums, not buying it. “You should just tell Kiyoomi you like him, save everyone up here the headache.”
Atsumu will not be doing that for a multitude of reasons, the biggest one being that Atsumu is supposed to be protecting him. He’s the grandson of Sakusa Kamodo, the ruthless oyabun of Itachiyama, his last living descendent after a rival clan killed them all off 15 years ago. If anything happens to Kiyoomi, Atsumu’s head is sure to roll. However, it’s getting harder and harder with Kiyoomi’s bratty attitude and refusing to be treated like a child anymore. It’s why they’re both in Osaka, miles away from the family compound because Kiyoomi didn’t want to be suffocated by bodyguards and watchful eyes.
Atsumu came with him because it’s his job. He was taken in off the streets, trained ruthlessly to be Kiyoomi’s personal bodyguard since they were both eight years old and Kamodo realized he needed someone to follow Kiyoomi around school that wasn’t over thirty. So despite Kiyoomi’s tantrum and begging, Atsumu followed him here to keep an eye on him.
It was fine for a while until things started to get complicated with their relationship, and now Atsumu’s running around Osaka to keep tabs on Kiyoomi.
“It’s not like that,” Atsumu lies - it’s absolutely like that, not that either of them would ever admit it to anyone in Tokyo. “I’m just-” The front door opens while Atsumu’s saying it, and he quickly shuts up. “I’ll call you back. Find me something, Motoya.” He hangs up before Motoya can add anything more, quickly closing his laptop and shoving his papers off his desk. “Omi?”
Kiyoomi doesn’t answer immediately, but he does stop in Atsumu’s doorway on the way to his own bedroom. “Who else?”
“Where were you?”
“Was that Motoya?”
Atsumu opens his mouth then snaps it shut with a click. “Uh, yeah. Just calling me about something funny that happened in Tokyo.”
Kiyoomi doesn’t believe him. “What was it?”
“Stupid shit, you wouldn’t laugh.” Atsumu leans his cheek on his hand. “Where were you? You left without saying anything.”
Kiyoomi sighs and leans against the doorway. “I know you tracked my location, you saw where I was.”
That’s entirely true and Atsumu didn’t stop watching his location until he made it back into the apartment building. “Who were you with?” he restates the question to get down to what he really wants.
“You know that, too.”
Alexander Joffe, a Russian exchange student that Kiyoomi met in a mutual study group and only hit it off because Kiyoomi took Russian at his fancy private school. Atsumu was there when it happened, senses on high alert as he watched Kiyoomi shift from disinterested to enraptured as he spoke with Alexander in a language Atsumu couldn’t understand. He knows Kiyoomi’s only talking to Alexander because he wants to piss Atsumu off and get back at him. “I wish you wouldn’t hang out with him.”
“Why?” Kiyoomi asks, a smirk on his lips as he watches Atsumu’s expression closely. “Jealous?”
Yes. “No, I don’t like him and I don’t trust him.” Atsumu did enough digging to put their best investigators to shame the moment he got back from that study group. He should have found the skeletons in the closet with the extensive search he did, but he couldn’t even find a singular bad social media post about the guy - it’s too weird and uncanny, like it’s all been fabricated. Atsumu can’t wait until this semester is finished and Alexander is on the next flight back to Moscow.
“I’m hanging out with him again this weekend,” Kiyoomi says, pulling off his hoodie and leaving Atsumu’s doorway.
“Why?” Atsumu follows after him.
“Take a guess, Sherlock.”
“I thought no alphas interested you here.”
Kiyoomi shrugs, pulling off his shirt and tossing both articles into the hamper. “I thought you weren’t interested in any omegas either, but . . .” he trails off, throwing a look over his bare shoulder at Atsumu. There are moles that spot Kiyoomi’s back, its own constellation of dark beauty marks that Atsumu knows better than the ones in the night sky. “It meant nothing, right?”
Atsumu swallows thickly. “Right.” He keeps his scent tight like he’s been trained to do since he was a child, knowing that the slightest note of jealousy and anger would betray the words he’s forced to say. “It was a mistake.”
Kiyoomi’s eyes grow colder as Atsumu says it. He peels off his scent patches, letting out his scent and knowing exactly what it does to Atsumu. “So who cares if I date someone?”
“I don’t trust him.”
“I don’t care.”
“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu says with a sigh of annoyance. “I’m here to keep you safe.”
“Right now, you’re here to piss me off.” He wrinkles his nose at Atsumu as he walks over to the door. “God find some other omega to fuck around with, I’m sure it will come easy to you.” He slams it in Atsumu’s face, leaving him alone and angry in the hallway.
Atsumu knew it was a mistake to give in that night. He’s spent over a decade with Kiyoomi, following him, memorizing his scent, knowing everything about him - it seemed inevitable that they would fall into bed together at the time, but Atsumu sees now how awful of a decision that was. Atsumu is his bodyguard, an alpha employed by Kiyoomi’s grandfather to keep him safe, he should have never been so stupid.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, moving closer to the door so Kiyoomi can hear him. “Can you at least give me some time to find out more about him?”
“Fuck off, Miya.” Now it feels like they’re kids again - Kiyoomi shutting Atsumu out and refusing to call him by his given name. How far they came before losing it all in one night.
Atsumu finds his phone and texts Motoya to keep digging. His gut has never been wrong before, and he knows it isn’t now even if everyone thinks it’s purely jealousy. He’ll be damned if he’s going to let someone hurt Kiyoomi.
The one compliment Atsumu can stomach giving to Alexander is that he’s tall. It makes it easy for Atsumu to follow him and Kiyoomi as they walk through Dotonburi together. Atsumu also has to hand it to him for convincing Kiyoomi to come here on a Saturday of all days. Even in the dead of night, Atsumu could never convince him to get close to this tourist trap. It must be the charm of Alexander being a tourist himself that got Kiyoomi to threaten his peace. Atsumu watches them carefully from a good distance away, far enough that Kiyoomi won’t glance back and notice Atsumu, but close enough that he can still smell Kiyoomi even with hundreds of different scents around them.
Kiyoomi shouldn’t know that Atsumu’s here with them, so he really shouldn’t be humoring Alexander in any way. Though whenever Atsumu catches Kiyoomi lightly laughing or nodding genuinely at whatever Alexander is telling him, his stomach curls in disgust and an ugly feeling settles in his chest. If they were back in high school, Atsumu would just scare the alphas away from him before they even got this far. Now, in university, Kiyoomi made him promise to give him a chance at a normal life which means no more threats to any alpha who gets too close.
Alexander looks like he’s buying something for Kiyoomi which Atsumu knows from personal experience is a bad idea. Kiyoomi will turn it down, scoff in your face, and remind you who his grandfather is. But he doesn’t this time and actually lets Alexander buy him a treat. Atsumu knows Kiyoomi has no idea that he’s been tailing them, so it’s not an act just to piss Atsumu off.
He watches the interaction with his gut twisted into knots and is forced to look away as his phone starts to ring with a familiar tone.
“Hey boss,” Atsumu answers. Sakusa-san doesn’t call him often, only if to get an update on Kiyoomi’s safety or he has a specific job for him to do. Their business doesn’t extend to Osaka, though Sakusa-san has been doing his best to expand, which means small drop offs here and there.
“Alexander Joffe,” he starts, “who is he?”
“Did you talk to Motoya?”
Sakusa-san hums. “He says you’re fixated on him.”
Atsumu keeps Kiyoomi in his periphery but leans back against one of the shop buildings. They’re across the street, still in front of the vendor while Kiyoomi snacks on the treat Alexander bought for him. “I don’t trust him.”
“Why? ” All Sakusas are the same - inquisitive, blunt, a little rude. It’s uncanny seeing the similarities between the highly feared Sakusa Kamodo and his bratty, omega grandson, Sakusa Kiyoomi.
“He’s too nice.” Sakusa-san laughs. “No one has a bad thing to say about him, I can hardly find anything about him on the web except for things that look like they want to be found.” Trying to explain his skepticism is difficult when it’s clear that most of it is just jealousy. Atsumu knows that if Sakusa-san ever found out what happened between the two of them, it will be more than just a pinky knuckle he’ll take.
“You think it’s all fabricated.”
“Yeah, I do. I’m having a hard time digging up anything useful, even with Motoya’s help.”
“I trust your gut, Miya. It’s why I’ve assigned you to protect Kiyoomi.”
“Thank you sir,” Atsumu says, finally feeling vindicated after so many called him crazy. “I’ll guard him with my life.”
Sakusa-san doesn’t comment because it’s an unspoken rule that if anything happens to Kiyoomi, something worse will happen to him. “I’ll have Motoya keep looking into it. Don’t leave the two of them alone.”
Sakusa-san ends the call before Atsumu can say anything else - another trait that he shares with his grandson. Atsumu tucks his phone back into his pocket and looks up to find Kiyoomi again. Except he’s not there and panic settles in Atsumu’s chest. He quickly walks across the street, narrowly avoiding a car, and uses his nose to track Kiyoomi’s scent. It’s been a while since he’s had to find him like this, the last time being in high school when his heat started early and he ran out of the school before Atsumu could catch him. His scent was strong then, but it’s more subtle today. Still, Atsumu will know this scent on his death bed as he dreams of Kiyoomi.
He tracks it down the road and around a corner where it grows stronger. It’s a quieter street for the area, though there’s still plenty of tourists and locals bustling about. Atsumu follows the scent farther down the alley, and stops dead in his tracks where it’s strongest and he realizes he’s been found.
“Shit,” he grumbles, turning his head to find a pissy Kiyoomi glaring at him as he stands by a tucked away entrance to a small manga store.
“You’re following me.”
“Where’s Alexander?” Atsumu asks.
“Using the bathroom. Go home.”
“How did you know I was following you?”
Kiyoomi scoffs, crossing his arms. “You’ve been my shadow for nearly my whole life, Miya. I know when you’re following me. Go Home.”
“I’ve got a job in this area, you just happened to be here, too.”
There’s a twitch of Kiyoomi’s eyebrow that Atsumu loves to see, his moles rising minutely as he considers the consequences of killing his bodyguard in broad daylight. “Miya.” He huffs, looking around them. “Go. Home. If I find out you’re still following us, I’ll tell my grandfather that you fucked me.”
Atsumu clenches his jaw, watching Kiyomi’s face carefully. “Are you also going to tell him that you liked it?” Atsumu asks. “That you were crying out my name, begging me to fuck you until you I stuffed you full?” The change in Kiyoomi’s expression is exquisite, easily turning from angry to flustered and slightly aroused at the memory. “Don’t turn off your phone, I’ll track you with it instead.”
Atsumu turns on his heel and walks back, not intending to go home at all. He’ll sit in a nearby cafe and keep tabs on Kiyoomi so he doesn’t go anywhere Atsumu isn’t familiar with. Atsumu manages to catch the quieting conversation between Kiyoomi and Alexander once he comes back, and while he doesn’t understand Russian, he recognizes Kiyoomi’s flustered tone as he responds and Atsumu can’t help but grin.
Atsumu decides to study while he waits for Kiyoomi to come home. He had an easy time in high school learning the same curriculum as Kiyoomi, but university coursework is more challenging. He needs to stay in all of Kiyoomi’s classes and that means he can’t fail a single one. That being said, Atsumu is significantly better at their math course than Kiyoomi and that was true in high school as well. Atsumu, only there to protect and serve, needing to teach Kiyoomi basic concepts in their mathematics classes so he wouldn’t fail their next exam.
Japanese literature classes, however…
Technically, this isn’t a required course and Kiyoomi’s taking it for fun to torture Atsumu because he knows just how awful Atsumu is at these courses. He could barely pass this class and still be able to sign up for whichever classes Kiyoomi takes next semester, though knowing how spiteful Kiyoomi can be, he’ll take the next class in the course.
All to say, Atsumu has to focus hard on the literature in front of him. If Kiyoomi wasn’t so pissed off at him, he’d probably let Atsumu cheat off of him. All that is gone now after a few weeks ago when Atsumu treated him like just another omega he fucks.
Except Kiyoomi will never be just another omega, he never could be. Atsumu’s alpha was finally silent that night, no longer whining and whimpering whenever he didn’t give into his temptations. He’s never felt more satisfied, and he knows Kiyoomi felt the same. Their inner selves were finally at peace, a calm settling over them as they finished together. Atsumu kissed down Kiyoomi’s neck, suffocating himself in his scent and warmth. Then the regret hit shortly after when Kiyoomi was tucked into his side, his head on Atsumu’s chest. What the fuck was he doing sleeping with Sakusa Kamodo’s grandson. Alphas were flayed alive for less in his office. Atsumu knew he had to break Kiyoomi’s heart if it meant keeping them both safe.
He doesn’t realize that half of the words on the screen in front of them are a love letter to Kiyoomi until the front door closes and it startles him out of reminiscing about that night. Atsumu gawks at the words on his screen and quickly shuts his computer before Kiyoomi can see it.
“Fucking finally,” Atsumu says, clearing his throat and spinning in his chair.
Kiyoomi moves around the kitchen gracefully, pretending to ignore Atsumu, though he can see whenever Kiyoomi steals a glance in Atsumu’s direction. He may have purposefully left his shirt in his bedroom after his shower just for the satisfaction of Kiyoomi’s lingering gaze.
“Did you have a nice date with him?” Still nothing. “Learn any new Russian swear words?” Kiyoomi’s frustratingly good at acting like he can’t hear him. Many nights used to go by when Atsumu never heard a peep from him. Lucky for him, he knows how to really piss Kiyoomi off. “Did you let him fuck you?”
The top drawer of the kitchen opens and out comes a knife so fast that it surprises Atsumu and he’s not quick enough to move before Kiyoomi’s pressing it to his throat. “I let you get away with more shit than anyone else because I can’t stand the thought of dealing with a new body guard. But if you ever speak to me again like you spoke to me today, I’ll make sure my grandfather kills you very slowly.”
Atsumu’s not proud of the way his cock twitches in his pants. He’s learning something new about the both of them tonight. “It’s small talk.”
“I think we’re well past the point of needing to fill the silence.” Kiyoomi turns back around and puts the knife away, slamming the drawer with enough force that it rings in Atsumu’s ears. He finishes his nightly routine in the kitchen, continuing to move about like he hadn’t threatened Atsumu’s life moments ago. When he’s finished, Kiyoomi leaves wordlessly and slams his door, too.
Atsumu lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and opens his computer again, his soliloquy to Kiyoomi staring at him shamelessly. He chews on his tongue, reading back over the words and making himself sick knowing that they can never be spoken aloud to Kiyoomi - maybe in another lifetime. Atsumu erases the words and the feelings that come with it until it’s nothing but academic. The line blinks, waiting for him to begin typing again, but he doesn’t trust himself to come up with anything useful.
Atsumu closes the laptop again and goes to his designated food cupboard for the pack of cigarettes he hides in there. He quit smoking once he moved into the apartment with Kiyoomi, though it doesn’t mean he’s not ready to pick up the habit when he’s particularly struggling, like tonight. His hand touches something cold - his gun. No, that won’t work. He digs around more until smooth cardboard touches his fingertips and he pulls out the box.
He at least has the decency to smoke on the back patio. The first drag feels like a fond memory, like kissing Kiyoomi for the first time.
Well, fuck. This was supposed to help him forget. He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, breathing in the scent of the smoke and begging his mind to move on.
Thankfully Motoya calls him, offering a distraction that this indulgence wasn’t going to. “It’s a good thing you’re a thug and not a photographer, because what the fuck is this,” Motoya says before Atsumu even gets a chance to answer. Earlier, Atsumu had the idea to send a photo to Motoya for him to cross reference on the internet just in case there was something out there they couldn’t see.
“You try sneaking a photo of the guy in the middle of Osaka’s busiest street.”
“He looks tall.”
“He is tall.” Not that Atsumu’s jealous or anything. “Freakishly tall.”
“So why couldn’t you have gotten a less blurry picture? Just point the camera at the sky and you would have had a better shot.” There’s loud clacking in the background from Motoya’s favorite keyboard, the one he pulls out to use when he’s planning on hacking the mainframe and pulling an all-nighter. The entire compound has to suffer from the clicks when he’s excited about something. It gives Atsumu a little hope knowing that this piqued Motoya’s interest enough to pull it out.
“Can you use it or not?”
Motoya sighs and Atsumu imagines him spinning around in the chair. “Yeah, I can use it. It’s gonna take a while though.”
“You can’t enhance the image?”
He snorts. “It’s not like in the movies, Miya. This isn’t a fast process, it’s gonna take days, maybe weeks.”
“Weeks?” Atsumu gawks, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Kiyoomi could be dead by then.”
“So do your job? You’ve never had a problem being up his ass before.”
“Yeah, well . . .” Out of everyone, Motoya knows the most about Atsumu and Kiyoomi’s relationship. He’s closest in age to them and the only beta in the family which means Kiyoomi spent the most time around him. Heats and moody omega hormones were dealt with by the family doctor and Motoya since he wasn’t affected by pack dynamics. Unfortunately, that means he knows exactly what’s going on between them, and Atsumu wouldn’t be surprised if Kiyoomi told him. “You’ll call me when you find something?”
“Actually, I’m thinking of keeping it to myself-” Atsumu hangs up on him.
Atsumu gets the silent treatment for the next week. Lectures are boring, assignments are a drag, and Kiyoomi is ignoring everything Atsumu does. It’s unfortunate because now he actually has to study for their classes instead of hoping he can cheat off of Kiyoomi during quizzes and Kiyoomi’s forcing him to sit in a different seat so they’re far apart.
Atsumu and his alpha are losing their minds with the distance between them. So much so that Atsumu swears he’s forgetting Kiyoomi’s scent. What used to be a familiar burnt sugar and jasmine smells different to Atsumu now. How could he, who has spent nearly two decades memorizing and tracking that scent out of a crowd of alphas and omegas, forget every note? Atsumu tries to rationalize that Kiyoomi is just angry and with his scent maturing as he does, it’s changing. Not in a bad way either because it’s so much more addictive now.
During his ruts, Kiyoomi used to sneak him scented items, especially when he was still young and learning to control himself. Atsumu’s alpha would cling to those, hold them against his nose while he would grind desperately into the sheets below him. Even now, when Atsumu is feeling restless, it’s the only scent that will calm him down.
Motoya still doesn’t find anything by the end of the week, and rumors that Sakusa-san is ready to call off the investigation float down to Atsumu. It doesn’t help that Kiyoomi continues to see Alexander even if it’s just for coffee or to tutor him in Japanese and nothing has happened.
Atsumu’s not convinced. His gut has never failed him before, and his alpha is overly protective of Kiyoomi. Something is wrong and Atsumu won’t rest until he finds out what.
As much as he wants to keep his eyes on Kiyoomi at all times, Sakusa-san still has him doing other jobs. It’s a hard job keeping his bratty grandson safe and peddling goods in a city belonging to a very powerful organization. Sakusa-san doesn’t seem to care, though he never has if it means he can gain influence and power. Atsumu keeps his phone on him with Kiyoomi’s location on a very loud notification, and if he steps foot outside of the apartment, it will alert him. He’s never had to do this before, but he doesn’t know what Kiyoomi will try to really get back at Atsumu.
Once he finishes his work in this ward, Atsumu takes the train back to their apartment. He watches Kiyoomi’s location the entire time like it’s a show. Kiyoomi hasn’t moved since this morning - maybe he’s finally given up on tormenting Atsumu. He stops at the convenience store and picks up some dinner for them both, deciding that he’s going to try and call a truce tonight. There’s still three more years left of this university program, and Atsumu doesn’t want to spend them like this. He’ll tell Kiyoomi everything, apologize for playing with his feelings, and put this behind them.
“I’m home,” Atsumu calls out, lazily kicking off his shoes and walking to the kitchen to set down the bag and pull out Kiyoomi’s meal. He stalls for time, putting away dishes from last night, wiping off the counter, and anything else that lets him work up the courage to speak to Kiyoomi. When he can’t avoid it any longer, he walks down to Kiyoomi’s room and knocks on the door. “Hey, I got you dinner,” he says. There’s no response. He knocks again. “Omi-Omi, come eat dinner with me. I want to talk to you about something.”
Still no response and now Atsumu and his alpha are concerned. It’s not unusual for Kiyoomi to not answer, but something feels wrong. Atsumu decides he’d rather risk the ear splitting lecture by coming in uninvited than find out Kiyoomi is missing. When he first opens the door, there’s a lump in the middle - it still doesn’t put his mind at ease. He walks in, spotting Kiyoomi’s phone plugged in on the bedside table. As he rounds the bed, the lump under the covers is nothing more than pillows and clothes.
Atsumu’s blood rushes so fast, it’s thundering in his ears. He all but sprints back to the kitchen, nearly missing the turn, and dives for his phone to call Motoya. It doesn’t even ring once before Motoya picks up.
“That’s so weird, I was just about to call-”
“Track Kiyoomi.”
“What?”
“Track him. I know you have something you can track him with.”
The click of his keyboard rings across the call as Motoya gets to work. “Atsumu, there was one result on the photo you sent.” Atsumu digs into the cupboard to pull out his gun. “There was a Russian mob in Moscow that was nearly wiped out five years ago.”
“Can you focus, please?” Atsumu begs, heading to the door to slip back on his shoes. He doesn’t know how long Kiyoomi’s been gone, though maybe he can pick up his scent on something.
“I am, but you really should hear this.” More clicking. “The survivors of the massacre started their own business as assassins to survive.” Atsumu knows where he’s going with this and it’s making him sick.
“Alexander is a fucking assassin?” Atsumu snaps, nearly ripping the door off the hinges as he sprints out of it.
“His recognition software matched him to a family portrait a few months prior to the massacre. It doesn’t mean he’s a hitman, but-”
“He just happened to pick Osaka for his higher education?” Atsumu scoffs, running down the stairs so quickly he nearly trips. “Tell me you have something, Motoya.”
“In a second. I haven’t had to use this tracker in years because you’re usually on top of him . . . literally-”
“Not the fucking time,” Atsumu growls. He pushes past a man on the street, roughly bumping his shoulder.
“Well it has an update. It’s at 77%, so just- oh that was fast.”
“Where is he?” Atsumu snaps. He sniffs the air outside, desperate to find Kiyoomi’s scent out here. If he catches it, he can follow it and find Kiyoomi.
“Okay, it’s some warehouse, god that’s cliche-”
“Send it to me.”
“Already did.”
Atsumu’s killed a few times before - each time to save Kiyoomi’s life. The first was when they were ten and the same clan who killed Kiyoomi’s parents came for him. Atsumu doesn’t remember much, but he remembers that his hands did not tremble. Kiyoomi had rushed to him after as the body began to cool, checking him for injuries, but the blood on his hands and face was not his own. Hours after, even days, Atsumu hadn’t felt sorry or regretted it because if he hesitated even for one second, Kiyoomi would have gotten hurt. Sakusa-san patted Atsumu’s head and said he was proud.
Now, as the two bodies lie behind him, Atsumu still doesn't tremble or shake. There’s one left, choking on his own blood while Atsumu finishes off the others. Alexander Joffe, the freakishly tall alpha that Atsumu had an awful feeling about from the start. Atsumu wishes he had his katana with him, but Kiyoomi made him leave it in Tokyo. He’d enjoy making Alexander suffer, hearing him cry with regret for every taking this hit.
But Kiyoomi is unconscious and Atsumu doesn’t have time to savor this vindicating moment. He looks down on Alexander - at least the blood dripping from his mouth and soaking his clothes gives Atsumu some kind of satisfaction.
“That bitch-” Alexander starts. Atsumu doesn’t let him get anything else out before he’s silencing him with one bullet to his head.
Hopefully Motoya set up some kind of arrangement to get this place cleaned up because Atsumu’s not spending another second here. Kiyoomi’s bound, hanging from a hook in the ceiling with no visible critical injuries, but Atsumu will only allow himself to relax when the family doctor says he’s fine.
It looks like they were posing him for a ransom photoshoot - gagged and blindfolded, feet tied and hands bound on the metal hook above him. It’s unsettling, though he’s still warm and Atsumu can see his chest swell with each shallow breath. He unhooks Kiyoomi, gently letting him down, and carrying him in his arms outside.
Thankfully, they brought Kiyoomi here in a car so Atsumu doesn’t have to carry an unconscious omega in the streets of Osaka. He sets him down in the back, making sure to remove the bindings around his hands and feet, and the cloth covering his eyes and mouth.
His phone rings shortly after he gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car. “I got him,” Atsumu says when he answers, expecting it to be Motoya.
“Good,” Sakusa-san says and Atsumu fumbles putting the keys into the ignition. “Drive him to NHO. I have people there who will care for him. They’ll know you when you arrive.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is he hurt?”
“No, sir.” Atsumu glances in the rearview mirror at Kiyoomi as he starts to drive. He looks peaceful, no furrow in his brow or pout on his lips. “He’s unconscious, but he looks fine.” He tests out just how fast this car can go. “I don’t know what they used on him.”
“Okay, they’ll run tests. Keep me updated.”
“Of course, sir.”
“I’ll want a full report on how this possibly could have happened.”
“Of course, sir.”
Kiyoomi’s taken right away once he gets to the hospital. Atsumu doesn’t even have to explain who he is or what they’re doing there, they seem to recognize them once they arrive. Atsumu hates how quickly they separate them, instructing Atsumu to place Kiyoomi on a gurney so they can quickly take him away. Atsumu tries to fight his way back, but he’s led to a private room to sit and wait.
While he’s alone, he goes through every possible explanation in his head of how they got Kiyoomi. He didn’t bother asking Alexander because all he saw was red and the need to kill him for touching Kiyoomi. Now the family will want answers, and Atsumu has to have something to give them. He texts Motoya, asking if he can hack into all the cameras in the apartment building, hoping to find something there. He stops texting Motoya when the conversation turns to how Atsumu is holding up.
It feels like forever before the door is opening and a bed is being wheeled in. Atsumu is out of his chair and by Kiyoomi’s side in an instant. “What’s wrong with him?”
The porter glances at him, finishing locking up the wheels of the bed. “The doctor will be in shortly.”
“Atsumu?” Kiyoomi asks groggily.
“I’m right here, baby.” Atsumu quickly pulls up his chair beside Kiyoomi’s bed, taking his hand in his and bringing it to his lips. There’s a faint bruise around his wrists that Atsumu kisses, too.
Another person comes through the door. “You must be Atsumu. Sausa-san said you would be attached to his grandson’s hip,” the woman says. Her hands are tucked in her labcoat, but she removes one to shake his hand. “I’m Doctor Ryuuzaki. Sakusa-san requested I look after Kiyoomi.”
Atsumu eyes her hand, then reluctantly lets go of Kiyoomi to shake it. “He’s going to be okay?”
Ryuuzaki smiles at Kiyoomi who is growing more alert with each passing second. “Some minor bruising and a killer headache the next few days. The sedative they used was pretty strong, but we were able to reverse it.”
“But he’s going to be okay?”
“Yes, he should be. I’d like to watch him overnight if that’s fine with you. Sakusa-san mentioned some of his health concerns over the years, and I’d like to make sure that the drugs in him don’t have any bad side effects.” She watches the two of them, eyes glancing down at where Atsumu holds tightly to Kiyoomi’s hands, and clears her throat. “There is something else.”
Kiyoomi seems awake enough to react to that, squeezing Atsumu’s hand and pulling it closer to his body. “Something else?”
“We ran a few blood tests to figure out what drug was used. I had them run a few more just to be sure we wouldn’t miss anything. Everything looked good, but one of the tests came back with very interesting results.” She stuffs her hands back into her pockets, shifting from foot to foot. “You’re pregnant.”
Atsumu’s mouth drops. He’s not sure how much more his mind can take tonight.
“What ?” Kiyoomi asks. If he was a little groggy before, he’s very awake now. “That’s impossible, I wasn’t in heat.”
“Well, it’s pretty unusual to conceive outside of a heat, but there are moments of fertility during the entire cycle. The omega’s body is very-”
“You slept with him?” Atsumu whispers without meaning to.
Ryuuzaki clears her throat awkwardly and takes a few steps back to the door. “Please call me if you need anything.”
“Atsumu,” Kiyoomi says with a sigh, getting more comfortable on the bed. He doesn’t let Atsumu take his hand back, pulling it closer to his chest. “You’re so stupid.”
“I didn’t think-”
“I didn’t sleep with him, or do anything with him. It was all just to make you jealous.”
“Did you know he was a hitman, too?”
Kiyoomi scoffs. “Of course I didn’t.” He frowns after. “You don’t sound very excited.”
“A lot has happened. I’m a little numb to be honest, honey.” Atsumu’s thumb strokes over Kiyoomi’s knuckles. “You really scared me, I thought I lost you.”
“You found me,” Kiyoomi whispers. His eyes are still heavy, body fighting off consciousness. Whatever they gave him was strong. He sighs and makes room for Atsumu on the bed, patting the space beside him. “Pregnant,” he murmurs, tasting the reality on his tongue. “Only you could knock me up outside of my heat.” Atsumu’s heart jumps just thinking about it, though he doesn’t know if he should be excited or scared. Kiyoomi curls into his side when he lies down beside him. One of Kiyoomi’s hands rests on his stomach, rubbing it gently. “Remind me again when I wake up so I can have a proper melt down, okay?”
Atsumu laughs, kissing his mess of curls. Now he knows why his scent was different. He inhales it, his alpha calming down significantly with Kiyoomi safe in his arms. “The last few days make sense - why I was so protective over you.”
“So you weren’t jealous because you’re madly in love with me?” Kiyoomi asks.
“Of course I was. And I knew he was up to no good, by the way. You should listen to me next time..” Atsumu breathes in his scent again to keep himself from getting worked up again. Alexander is dead, his body is probably on the way to the shipyard to be buried in the ocean. If Atsumu wasn’t trying to distance himself from Kiyoomi, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. If they had never slept together, if he had never given into his desires . . . “We shouldn’t be together.”
“Shut up,” Kiyoomi says with no heat. “I don’t care about yakuza honor or some stupid notion that you’re protecting me from you.” Kiyoomi wipes his scent on Atsumu’s shirt.
“Your grandfather won’t be happy.”
“He’ll be more happy that his bloodline doesn’t die with me.” An icy cold hand slips under Atsumu’s shirt, making him hiss. “I’m not getting rid of her.”
Atsumu is sure that his mind might change once he’s had a discussion with his grandfather, but Atsumu will let himself enjoy it until then. He smiles lightly, feeling content as Kiyoomi grows heavier. It’s like a dream each time his fingers brush Kiyoomi’s skin, able to do it out of love and affection instead of hidden desires and shameful want. “What if it’s a boy?”
Kiyoomi’s barely awake now. “It’s not. I can feel her.”
“You’re barely a month along.”
Kiyoomi shrugs. “Feel her.” Atsumu lets himself give in, finding Kiyoomi’s still flat stomach and resting his hand on it.
“You’re right, it’s a girl.” Kiyoomi smiles against his neck. “And she’ll look just like you.”
A cough startles Atsumu awake. He didn’t realize he fell asleep. Standing at the end of the hospital bed is Sakusa Kamodo, crossing his arms and watching the two of them sleep in a very damning position. “Miya,” he starts.
Atsumu quickly scrambles out of the bed, roughly jolting Kiyoomi awake as his head falls off Atsumu's chest. “Sir,” Atsumu quickly says, dropping to the ground and bowing. “I didn’t know you would be here.”
“My last living grandson is in the hospital,” he says as if Atsumu isn’t painfully aware. “Where else would I be?”
“Jiji,” Kiyoomi grumbles with a yawn, shifting on the bed to make up for a missing body. “I thought you wouldn’t be here until the morning at least.” Sakusa-san points to the window where sunlight peeks through the blinds. “I spoke with Ryuuzaki-sensei.”
“And she told you I’m fine?”
“Amongst other things.” Silence settles between all three of them. “Miya, stand up.” Atsumu quickly jumps to his feet. “Leave us.”
“Whatever you say to me, you can say to him,” Kiyoomi defends.
“I’ll kill him if I look at him.”
Atsumu bows low again and quickly sees himself out of the room before Kiyoomi can argue further. He finds a chair nearby, slumping in the seat. His body is exhausted from everything that’s gone on in the last 14 hours. If he survives this afternoon, he’s booking an onsen to undo some of this stress.
It feels like forever that Saskusa-san is in there with Kiyoomi. Atsumu’s trying not to imagine the worst outcome, but it’s too hard. Sakusa-san didn’t get to where he was by making exceptions and showing mercy. Then again, Kiyoomi is just as ruthless as him, and Atsumu knows better than anyone that he always gets his way. He’s just starting to fall back asleep slumped in the chair when the door opens and Atsumu quickly jumps to his feet.
Sakusa Kamodo don’t has one hell of a poker face, but Atsumu can see the slight furrow of his brow. Whatever they talked about is frustrating enough to break through his stone face. He sees Atsumu, and just like that, the furrow is gone again. Wordlessly, he motions Atsumu to follow him.
He’s silent for a while as they walk through the hospital together. Atsumu’s worried he’ll bring him to the roof and put an end to his eternal headache since adopting Atsumu into the family, but is relieved when he presses the button for the parking garage.
“You and Kiyoomi,” he starts, finally breaking the silence as the numbers descend above the elevator door. “You love him?”
“More than anything,” Atsumu quickly responds.
Sakusa-san chuckles. “More than you love this family?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” The elevator doors open to another long hallway. “He says he wants to keep the pup.”
“I know.”
Sakusa-san lets out a tired sigh. “I could never control his father, it seems he’s inherited that same stubbornness.” He fishes around in his pocket for something. “You will protect them both with your life.”
“I won’t let anything happen to them.”
“And you’ll bond with him after the pup is born.” He seems to cringe at the thought of having Atsumu part of his actual family. “Kiyoomi will finish this semester, then come back to the compound until he gives birth.”
Atsumu doesn’t want to think about how awful that conversation will go. “Did you tell him that?”
“Of course not,” Sakusa-san says with a grimace. “He’ll listen to you as his alpha.” Wonderful. They stop at the black Mercedes and Sakusa-san takes out his keys. “I will be in Osaka until tomorrow to wrap up this mess and keep an eye on Kiyoomi.” He rubs his forehead. “Good luck, Atsumu.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Atsumu only takes a breath after he watches the Mercedes drive out of the garage. He goes back to Kiyoomi afterwards, peeking his head into the room. Kiyoomi’s sitting up, snacking on the breakfast they brought in for him. “He’s gone?”
Atsumu shakes his head. “He’s staying in Osaka until tomorrow, so we can expect him to be back.”
Kiyoomi pouts, making room for Atsumu on the bed again. “He really wanted to kill you, he even brought his katana. I said I would kill myself if you died.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Atsumu says with a laugh and sits on the edge, stealing one of Kiyoomi’s grapes. “I thought he’d take a pinky at least.”
“That was his other threat, but I asked how he expected you to raise a pup with half a hand gone.” Kiyoomi smirks, taking another sip of his soup. “It took some real convincing.”
Atsumu looks down at his hands - scarred and calloused, but all ten fingers are still here. He can’t imagine a world where he can’t feel Kiyoomi with each one. “I owe you one.”
“Make it up to me. He said we were to be bonded, right?” He pushes his tray away.
“Yeah, he did.” Atsumu reaches out and takes Kiyoomi’s hand. He kisses his knuckles, his wrist, the ditch of his elbow, up and up until Kiyoomi’s breath is hitching and he’s pulling Atsumu into him for a real kiss. It’s an awkward angle - Atsumu half leaning over the bed, Kiyoomi trying to pull himself up and into his skin. Atsumu breaks apart first, smoothing back Kiyoomi’s forehead and kissing his moles. He may as well get the worst news out of the way, then Kiyoomi can take his complaints straight to Sakusa-san. “He wants you to move back to Tokyo after this semester by the way. Stay at the compound until you have the pup.”
“What?! “