Chapter Text
Megumi learned from a very young age that the world was run by alphas. This was the precipice of society. Engraved so deeply into people’s very biology, it was not something to simply unwrite.
Even Megumi was at the mercy of his own biology.
He first learned his lesson from his father. A prime. One who had rejected his own instincts and allowed a mating bite on his own neck. A sign of submission, a sign of shame. Cast out of his pack, Toji Fushiguro had raised Megumi in hiding. No one was to know who he was, what he was. His sister, Tsumiki, did not receive the same treatment. Born a beta, his sister was given permission to attend school, to learn, given freedoms that Megumi could only dream about.
Megumi grew in the shadows, a quiet child, soft and pretty as his biology dictated.
His father beat it out of him.
“I don’t want to do this, but if I don’t, you’ll end up dead, or worse.” Toji would say to him, making the trembling child hold a knife in his non-dominant hand. Hours, days, weeks, months with no breaks. Toji trained and bullied Megumi’s small body into that of a lethal weapon.
While Tsumiki spent her days learning to read and make friends, Megumi learned how to kill. He learned how to kill until he didn’t hesitate, learned how to fight until his legs gave out, and then learned how to get back up and kill some more.
Toji was relentless, and Megumi hated him for it. Hated that ten years of his life was stolen, hated that ever since he was old enough to walk, his father would leave him black and blue, barking at him that one day he would be on his own, one day there wouldn’t be anyone to protect him. That in the world he lived in, he needed to know how to go for the jugular, how to win.
At ten Megumi hated his father and wanted nothing more than to kill him.
At ten Megumi learned he should have been more grateful.
At ten Megumi learned he should have listened to his father better.
“I have to go.” Toji announced that day. “Some big payout, things’ll be changing around here after this. One last job.” Tsumiki had begged him not to go.
Megumi hoped he never returned.
Then Megumi was taken. That very same day, the moment his father left their den, the men had come. Megumi wasn’t stupid, he knew that nothing good would come of them capturing him or his sister.
So, he did all that his father taught him.
He killed.
The blade swept across one jugular, quick and unexpected from the fully grown beta who had tried to grab him. Then the next, as the other beta shouted in surprise, soon choking on the sounds of his own blood drowning him.
Megumi hissed, standing in front of his sister as she cowered in a corner, baring his teeth and daring the other two invaders who stood there. He was trembling, his mind unable to process the two lives he had so easily taken. His first kills. “M-Megumi…” Tsumiki cried softly behind him, her hands holding onto the back of his shirt. “Please, stop.” She whispered. “This isn’t right. Let-let me handle this. I’m your big sister, I should—”
“How interesting.” Megumi stiffened at the sound of a new intruder at the doorway. The pheromones that permeated the air were suffocating, so strong that he was nearly gagging on them. The alpha smelled like rot, like terror. “We smelled a powerful alpha here.” The intruder continued. “But I can’t sense him now.” Megumi fought the urge to cower, his hands gripping the knife harder, refusing to stand down. “Just two little pups. A useless beta and...” The alpha scented the air, his mouth dropping open as he attempted to place the scent. “Oh?” His face contorted into something wicked, so evil that Megumi’s legs nearly gave out. “What’s this? Did you do all this, little omega?” Omega. The word dripped from his lips with nothing but excitement.
“My father will kill you.” Megumi growled, forcing his hand to steady as he lifted the blade towards the alpha. But the man merely laughed, his hands coming to his chest to grasp at his shirt as if it was the funniest thing in the world to him, a ten-year-old omega threatening him with a kitchen knife.
“We came here for your father. But I think I found something far more interesting. Yes, indeed. This will be…this will be glorious.” The alpha crouched down to Megumi’s height, his eyes roaming over him with nothing but excitement. “Do what you want with the beta. Bring him.” Then he stood and left. Megumi growled, protecting Tsumiki against the two remaining men in the room.
But they were alphas.
And Megumi was ten.
Tsumiki was screaming as one grabbed him by the throat, lifting him effortlessly. A scream tore through his own throat as the knife was wrenched from his fingers, his teeth frustratingly dull against the man’s arm as he clawed and fought his way from the grip. But it was useless, there was no winning, no way out.
Megumi gasped for air, trying to see what was happening to Tsumiki, trying to see what was happening to her—
But there was nothing that could be done as his vision went black.
-
Those weeks had changed Megumi.
Killed something inside of himself he didn’t know existed and never would again.
Horrors so unspeakable his mind trapped them thoroughly behind teeth and blood, never to surface again.
A clarity that Megumi would not yet understand at ten rested in his mind, as he dragged himself back to his father’s den. As he dragged his broken body, his broken spirit through the front door, not knowing what he would find.
What he found was nothing.
No Tsumiki.
No Toji.
Nothing.
He couldn’t stay there, he knew that they would come looking for him, and this would be the first place to stop. There were only so many places a ten-year-old would know to go to, and the only home he’d ever known was no longer safe.
He needed to find Tsumiki. He needed to know what happened to her.
He stepped out of the apartment and stumbled down the street, blood seeping from his wounds. The bandages that were applied lazily were bled through by then, his clothes a joke of tattered rags, barely covering anything.
Every person he passed took a wide berth. Not a single person dared to meet his eyes, not even one person dared to help him.
He didn’t know how long he wandered, desperately trying to scent the air for anything familiar, desperately trying to locate his sister, not knowing what happened to her, not knowing where he would sleep, not knowing anything other than the rage in his veins, the nothingness in his heart.
It was one in the morning when he stumbled upon his first alpha.
“Hey, you okay kid?” The first person who had dared to speak to him, and it was nothing more than a filthy alpha. The man dared to put a hand on Megumi and—
The next thing he knew he was on the ground, snarling and snapping his fangs as he struggled against the hold of two men, screaming and twisting his neck from side to side. “Ow—fuck!” One of the hands released him and he turned, attempting to free himself from the other set of hands clamping his hands behind his back.
“Fucking feral—”
“Shit, keep him—”
“Hold him!—”
Something smashed against the back of Megumi’s head and not unfamiliar to him, he lost consciousness.
-
Something happens to omegas when they go feral. Not that Megumi knew what he was at the time, it wasn’t something he would find out until much later in life, but he knew that something was wrong, something was broken.
When an omega’s mind breaks beyond repair, put through misery, pain and torture so immense that something biologically breaks inside of them, they exude the presence of an alpha. Their scent changes permanently, their demeanor changes, and they no longer respond to alpha’s instinctively the way an omega should.
Pheromones did not affect them.
Commands held no power.
Forcing a feral omega to physically submit either through brute strength or by scruffing was the only way to gain submission.
But scruffing a pup elicited submission no matter the secondary gender.
And so, Megumi found himself living the life of an alpha.
The men he had attacked that night were grunts of the Zenin family, a powerful clan that had no shortage of money, influence and power. Running the surface on pharmaceuticals, running the underground in drugs, the Zenin dipped their hands in every aspect of a person’s life. The over-the-counter painkiller? Theirs. The little bags of pills slipped casually between fingers in exchange for cash? Also, theirs.
Megumi was dragged into the compound passed out, thrown into a room with his hands tied behind his back, his legs bound much the same. When he awoke, it was to three strange alphas staring at him, another at his back, holding the back of his neck roughly and forcing his neck into submission. “He looked just like him. Look at his eyes. It even feels like him.” One of the alpha’s sneered.
“What is your name, pup?” The alpha in the middle demanded. Megumi stared at him baring his teeth and snarling. “Name.” Megumi did not react, continuing to growl until a low whine was forced from him as his neck was pinched harder. The three alphas in front of him all shared a look as they took him in, communicating in a way that he could not understand.
“Toji Fushiguro was a weak alpha. But it looks like he left us one gift. Tell me, boy, do you know who we are?”
Still, Megumi did not respond, but this time it did not seem to deter them. “We are the Zenin clan. Your family. Your pack. Your father was my nephew, so that makes you a Zenin by blood as well.” Megumi continued to stare, but now he indicated to them that he was listening. “I am Naobito Zenin, head of the clan. What name did Toji give you?”
He took in his surroundings then, staring at the tatami mats, the expensive décor, the clothing that the alpha’s wore. He did not trust the alpha’s that he was surrounded by, but based upon the way his body felt, they had not done anything to him beyond the rough housing he’d received earlier. “Megumi.” He finally offered, his voice low and grainy. Not from disuse of sound, but disuse of words. The use of his voice formulating anything other than a wail of pain sounded foreign to him.
“Megumi.” Naobito scoffed at the name. “What an interesting choice for an alpha pup. Toji never ceases to disappoint.” Alpha pup. They thought he was an alpha. Idiots. “Well, regardless of the name, you are a Zenin. And since you attacked my men, permanently maimed one might I add, you now belong to the Zenin’s. You owe us a body now, boy. And you will pay it back with yours.”
Megumi stiffened at the words, his muscles taut and ready to fight his way out. He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t—
“I want him starting on routes.” Naobito turned to one of the alphas beside him, suddenly ignoring the boy. “He can stay with the rest of the runners. I want him watched, trained, and if he isn’t useful, I want him beaten.”
“Yes, Kumichō.”
And so, Megumi began his life as an alpha in the Zenin clan.
The first year he was taught how to count pills, how to package them, how to sift through powder, how to count money, what spots to make drop offs, where to pick up envelopes, which streets were his, which territories to avoid. As drug lords, the Zenin were often permitted in other clan’s territories as well, trading in product through their runners. A thin line of trust, but one ridden with rules unspoken and if crossed led to beatings and threats of death.
Death did not scare Megumi.
Nothing did anymore.
But he had to find Tsumiki. He had to know what happened to her. The only tether of his sanity left.
Toji was dead. Megumi found out the day he was inducted.
“The Gojo brat killed him.” Naobito had uttered. “You have no one but us now.”
Megumi hoped he was rolling in his grave.
Megumi learned the rules fast. He was allowed in other territories, he was not allowed in businesses.
He was allowed to sell to dealers, but not to civilians.
He was allowed to collect money, but not to touch it.
He learned and he became good at melting into the shadows. Good at being silent, at being unnoticed.
He hid the scars of his mind and his body behind the shadows. Layers of turtle necks and hoodies, scent patches and a silence that made others so uncomfortable they started calling him the Zenin Shadow.
Naobito noticed.
He watched.
Then, Megumi was tested.
“If you want to move up, if you want to be useful,” Naobito pressed the blade in his hands. “Then show me, and I will give you the power and the training to be more.”
Megumi stared at the knife, stared at the omega trembling before him, blindfolded and gagged. Her scent was drenched in terror, her shoulders shaking as drool and snot dripped down her face. She was whimpering behind the gag, shaking her head, trying to plead and cry for her life. “What did she do?”
“Nothing.” Naobito shrugged. “My son spent the night with her, found her rather clingy after.” The alpha smiled cruelly. “Are you incapable of killing, boy?” Megumi tilted his head to the side, turning back to the trembling omega and lifted the blade. He slid it easily through her throat, watching her writhing form as she choked on her own blood for one minute, two, three, before finally stilling. He stared down at the body, unflinching and unmoving, feeling nothing for the corpse now before him.
“I didn’t ask because I cared whether she was innocent or not.” He muttered to himself. “I asked because I wanted to know what kind of Kumichō you were.” Naobito’s nose flared in amusement, his eyes alighting in glee.
“Tell me, pup, how did your first kill feel? The blood beneath your hands, the blade against her skin?” Megumi said nothing. It was not his first kill, he didn’t feel anything regarding the feel of the blade against her skin. He wasn’t excited, wasn’t interested, wasn’t disgusted or afraid.
He felt nothing but the familiar simmering rage that was ever present in his veins.
Naobito assessed him for a moment, the clinical calm that the eleven-year-old held in his body, the relaxed nature of his stance.
And he grinned so wide Megumi thought his skin would tear.
“Toji Fushiguro left me quite the prize indeed. A rare gem.” He clapped his hands together, summoning more people into the room. One of them dragged the body from the floors, another already cleaning the bloodstains. Naobito seemed deep in thought then, looking over Megumi with a critical eye. “I don’t think I will mark you.” He finally uttered. The words made Megumi pause. “I think you would be far more useful elsewhere to be marked.”
The words were meant to test him, he knew. But he would not be upset at the opportunity to never have to bear his skin to another. The scars would remain hidden, his identity wrapped in shadow still. Naobito had use for him as an alpha, he possessed a rare ability to kill without conscience, a body that was trained to become a lethal weapon for years before ever entering his service.
Megumi knew the risks, what he would lose should his status be revealed.
An omega working amongst the Zenin heads?
He would be tortured and mutilated, raped and used the moment he was discovered.
It was in that room, Naobito musing over his continued use for the omega alpha that Megumi finally understood the reasons he still breathed.
To find Tsumiki.
To kill those that had made him this way.
For revenge.
Megumi bowed lowly, sinking to his knees in reverence as Naobito praised him, saying that he would be sent for in the morning to start his tutoring. “You will be useful to my heir. A shadow in his garden.” Megumi nodded once, agreeing easily.
From then on Megumi was tested further. At dawn he rose, wrapping his neck tightly in thick black bandages, pulling a turtleneck over it and then drowning himself in a loose fitted hoodie. His pants were pulled on quickly, boots tied and his hair mussed unevenly across his head. He left the confines of the room he’d been granted that evening, privacy, something he’d not known since being taken.
A man stood at the end of the hall, his arms crossed as he saw Megumi approach. “You are the nephew?” He asked, looking Megumi over. “You are smaller than I thought. Alphas are usually much larger.”
“I am eleven.” Megumi provided. The alpha’s nose flared, his eyes flashing with surprise.
“Eleven?”
“Yes.” The answer was short, Megumi’s expression flat. “So, I am small.” He explained.
“Naobito has demanded we beat you until you learn to fight.”
“I know how to fight.”
“Then let us see.” The alpha looked unimpressed and suddenly disappointed that his time was to be wasted with nothing more than a pup. Megumi let him underestimate him until they reached the training grounds, several fully grown alphas stretching and running through training drills. He was ordered to warm up, prepare his body for sparring so that his skills could be gathered. “You have fought before?”
“Yes.”
“Trained?”
“Yes.”
“Who was it that taught you?”
“My father.”
“Your father—” The alpha froze, his eyes flicking down to the boy once more, something akin to recognition in his gaze. “You—”
“Nobuaki!” A voice called out, and Megumi turned, bowing low at the alpha that approached them. Naoya Zenin, heir to the Zenin clan. The alpha was seventeen, arrogant and cruel to all. He was raised with the knowledge that he would one day rule the world, provided with the respect to prove it, which had twisted his personality into something ugly and vile. Megumi knew him from the observations he had made the night prior. Naobito had promised his servitude to his heir, after all.
He had to be sure that Naoya wouldn’t crawl into business that wasn’t his own. If he left him alone well enough, Megumi had no qualms about servitude.
Megumi had learned two things about the alpha last night.
- He was lazy.
- He was stupid.
That didn’t make him any less dangerous to Megumi’s existence. The alpha had a new omega in his bed every night, most times unwilling. Drugged and a heat induced for his pleasure, they were thrown out or killed if the fancy struck him. Megumi had already dealt with one for him. But he was heir, and he was adept at being a Zenin, so Megumi was careful.
He’d spent the last year settling into his new mind, his new instincts. The rage that flowed through his blood, sat in his chest was contained. It was the only way forward. His mind, fractured beyond what anyone could comprehend, broken open and ripped off all innocence and submission would not hinder him. He would make it useful, make himself powerful. No one would touch him again, no one would hold him down, experiment, take, take, TAKE—
“Is this the one my father is giving me?” Nayoa words cut through Megumi’s thoughts sharply and he bowed once more. “He’s small.”
“He’s eleven.” Nobuaki offered.
“Eleven?” Naoya scoffed, his nose turning upwards. “How pathetic. How is he to be useful to me?”
“That is what your father has demanded I find out.”
“Well then, get on with it. I want him castrated and hung if he disappoints me. I have no use for pathetic pups in my circle.”
“Of course.” Naoya walked away without giving Megumi so much as another glance, settling on the outer rings of the training grounds. A maid hurried over, providing him with all the comfort and self-importance he needed. “You heard him.” Nobuaki announced, grabbing Megumi by the arm and throwing him into the sparring circle. “You!” The alpha barked, pointing to another alpha, gesturing him to enter the ring as well. “Break his legs.” Nobuaki motioned towards Megumi, the order clear.
Then he walked away, leaving the boy with a fully grown alpha, a fully grown alpha with a command to break his legs.
Megumi stood calmly, taking his opponent. He wasn’t huge, Megumi had seen larger alphas in the Zenin compound. His father had been larger in fact, and his father had broken his legs at one point. He’d made Megumi train the very next day, his ankles twisting in the wrong direction, his body forcing itself through the pain until tears no longer fell.
This alpha did not scare him.
His father was meaner.
That man had been crueler. Megumi knew pain now, he knew—
The alpha rushed him, he was fast, but Megumi was ready. His body remembered, ten years of drills and fighting meant everything, even if he was out of practice. Even if he hadn’t fought in the past year, trained as he was used to, Megumi’s body knew, remembered.
He dodged the first grab, slipping to the side and rolling as his opponent twisted and reached for him once more. Megumi heard a bored sigh from his right which he ignored, blocking a punch that was directed at his abdomen. He deflected the next blow as well, the alpha’s punch gliding off his arm as Megumi twisted the momentum and used it to push the stumbling man away.
The alpha was thrice Megumi’s size and the small boy had caused him to stumble.
Boredom led to interest at this, Megumi could feel it as the rest of the courtyard seemed to give their full attention to the match.
He crouched, emptying his mind.
Not yet.
Not yet.
Not yet.
One slip and he would be known. One slip and they would know. Know that he was broken, that he was—
Megumi grunted as something slid into his side. Another alpha had approached from behind him and slid a blade into his back. The unexpected opponent had gotten the better of him and he snarled, his eyes flashing as he ripped the blade from his torso and flipped it through his fingers.
Twice the opponents.
Now armed with a weapon.
Megumi was merciless as he moved, control pulled tautly as he grabbed the new alpha’s arms and swung his body upwards, his muscles twisting as his legs found purchased along his neck. Upside down and dangling from his shoulders, Megumi wrenched himself to the left, taking the alpha with him as he twisted, twisted and pushed until the alpha was beneath him, head trapped between his thighs. He was writhing on the ground, his strength would allow him to break freely soon enough. Megumi had caught him by surprise, but it would only get him so far. He had no chance of pinning the alpha down for longer than a fraction of a second.
He stabbed the alpha in the neck easily, the blade pushing through muscle and skin easily under his steady hand.
He rose quickly, taking the blade with him and turning to his original opponent.
It was seconds.
The crowd watched silently as Megumi approached the alpha with a calmness so uncomfortable some were forced to look away. Naoya leaned forward, interested now. He couldn’t take his eyes off the small alpha, what a pleasant surprise, his father had gifted to him.
For anyone that was in the courtyard that day, it wasn’t a spar they had witnessed.
It was a slaughter.
Megumi stood between the bodies of two dead alphas, fully grown and trained in lethal martial arts, trained killers. It had taken less than a minute.
Toji.
Toji’s son.
Toji’s alpha pup.
Toji Fushiguro.
The ghost.
The Shadow.
Whispers erupted as Naoya stood, clapping sarcastically in the aftermath of the bloodbath. “Well, it looks like you won’t die today, after all.” He sneered, looming over the smaller alpha. “To be honest, I did not think that I would find a use for you. But you surprised me today, and I am pleased. I will fuck well tonight and for that, you will be rewarded.” Megumi bowed once, allowing the Zenin heir to shuffle them into a room, several other men already seated at a table.
All were alphas, male and dominant, the only allowed to hold power within the Zenin clan.
“Sit.” One of them said, motioning for Megumi to seat himself on a cushion at the far end of the table. “From today you will be inducted into the inner family. Named a Zenin by law and bearing the responsibility to keep the family name respectable and powerful. Do you accept this responsibility?”
“Yes.”
“You will swear allegiance to the Zenin name, serve our Kumichō and his heir until you die. Do you surrender your life to this purpose?”
“Yes.”
“You will follow all commands without question. You will lick my feet if I command, kill if I wish, submit when I demand.” Naoya threw out, a smirk on his lips.
“Yes.” Naoya’s nostrils flared in pleasure, nodding his head to one of the other alphas as a piece of paper was slid across the table and presented to Megumi.
“Read this if you must. Sign.” Megumi paused, his eyes roaming over the paper. The pen resting near him remained untouched. He glanced up at the other alphas, refusing to show confusion. Refusing to admit that the alpha pup that had just murdered two decorated members of the Zenin clan could be defeated in battle by a piece of parchment.
Megumi, omega of eleven.
Alpha and soon to be assassin to the Zenin Clan.
Could not read.
He grabbed the knife still in his hands and dragged it across his palm quickly, slamming it onto the document and smearing the words beneath his blood before shoving it back towards the alphas. Shocked silence from them greeted him, but he didn’t back down, the wound from his hand soaking the paper and pooling onto the table. “Do you require I show you more loyalty, Zenin-sama?”
“No.” Naoya waved off. “Clean yourself. You reek. I will call for you when I have use.”
“Yes, Zenin-sama.” Megumi bowed low once more before rising from his cushion and leaving the room.
He attended to his wounds in silence, bandaging his hand and his side, ensuring that everything was clean as to avoid infection. He knew how to care for his wounds, had been taught by the other experiments in that room—
Megumi found himself with far more freedom than he thought possible after that day.
Naoya called for him infrequently, allowing him to train and the time to learn about the inner workings of the Zenin clan.
He was thirteen when Naoya suddenly remembered how useful he could be.
“Come.” The alpha demanded one night, Megumi following silently behind him as they entered car. “We’re heading to one of the clan’s businesses. Father recently purchased a pleasure house from the Kamo clan, and I wish to see what it has to offer. You will soon have a rut, and you will need to know how to deal with your instincts while serving me. Let me show you what power feels like.” Megumi nodded silently, not daring to argue as they entered the city, Tokyo Megumi recalled they were in.
The main Zenin estate rested in a wooded area of Kyoto, but Naoya preferred Tokyo. More drugs, more debauchery. Megumi had gone with him all those months ago, staying in the traditional home the Zenin used for when Tokyo came calling. It was territory ruled by the Gojo’s and the Kamo’s. But the Zenin, with their products holding a monopoly over the entirety of Japan, truly had no territory that was off limits to them.
Buying a club at the border of Kamo land and Gojo land did not pose enough of a disrespect for either side to utter a word.
It opened a neutral territory if anything.
Which is how Megumi found himself meeting Gojo Satoru for the first time.
The alpha was powerful, Megumi could smell it on him. A prime. One of four born and currently alive in Japan. Megumi had done his research, taught himself to read with every waking hour, gathering information and observing astutely, cataloging even the smallest details.
Gojo Satoru, nineteen, prime.
Kumichō of the Gojo clan since fifteen, eyes bright like the sky, childish in nature but no less a threat. Powerful, intelligent, dangerous.
Naoya had entered the club, Megumi on his heels as the omegas all stopped what they were doing to look at the pair. Recognition poured throughout the club and a beta came over, prostrating himself to Naoya, welcoming and offering him anything he desired. Naoya drank it in, puffing out his chest as he looked through the room, his eyes sweeping until he found something he liked.
Megumi followed diligently, coming to a stop in front of a female omega, sitting prettily atop the bar. She fluttered her eyelashes as Naoya made his intentions known, Megumi saying nothing as he turned to scan the rest of the room.
His eyes met a blinding blue, his body freezing at the attention. His mind stuttered, his muscles seizing.
Danger, danger, danger, danger—KILL
Megumi inhaled sharply, his mouth dropping open to scent the air and calm himself. Naoya’s slightly bitter scent and the cloying sweetness of the omega he was with filled his taste buds and he wrenched his mind back into place. He would not lose control, he would not slip. It seemed that Naoya did not sense the threat in the room, his hand reaching up between the omega’s legs and rubbing teasingly between her thighs. “Boy.” The alpha snapped, turning his head slightly to look at Megumi. “I’ll be in the back if you need me. Find an omega to entertain you if you get bored.”
Megumi nodded, stepping to the side as Naoya disappeared into the back with the omega. All it took was one cloying scent and the alpha had forgotten the entire purpose of coming here in the first place. Megumi was glad. He didn’t know how it would work, the expectation that he bed an omega. He didn’t exactly have the anatomy for it, and surely, he would’ve been discovered if the issue had been pressed.
Left alone within the club, Megumi skirted himself along the shadows, always keeping his senses on the prime in the room, but not acknowledging that he was acknowledging him. He fiddled with the knife in his pocket, his senses sharp and his mind desperately attempting to stay focused on the room.
The walls are ugly brown. Suede.
The floors haven’t been cleaned in months, there’s alcohol, sweat and bodily fluids stained into the rugs.
The second light from the left side of the entrance shines brighter than the others, there is something wrong with the wiring there.
The bar is old, the counter needs to be replaced and the chairs need to be burned.
Cheap.
The curtains to the back rooms are faded, maybe once a red color, but now more of a muted orange—
His observations were interrupted as he felt the prime move, walking calmly over to the bar. Not quite to where Megumi stood in the corner, but close enough that Megumi could now smell him. The omega refused to react, taking in the frigid scent that burned his nose. Gojo Satoru smelled like destruction. It was too simple to put into a category such as floral or liquor. Gojo Satoru smelled like a building razed to the ground, like the dead air of a space that had not been touched in decades. He smelled like power.
With a little bit of something sweet underneath as well.
Megumi detested the smell as the image fully came into his mind.
Gojo Satoru smelled like a candy shop that had been abandoned for decades and left to collect dust, only to be razed to the ground with everything still inside of it.
He smelled like a child rolling through chaos and sugar.
Megumi was not impressed.
He could tell the alpha was scenting the air around him as well, and he wondered what he smelled like to the prime. He knew he smelled like an alpha, but no one had truly taken the time to explain to him what that entailed.
Naoya had told him he smelled disgusting at one point and that was the only description he’d ever received.
“You.” Megumi didn’t turn at the sound of the prime’s voice, clearly calling for him. “Hey, you want a sucker?” Megumi flicked his eyes over to Gojo, who had procured a piece of candy from his jacket. A blue lollipop. He was wagging it in front of himself, a smile on his lips. His fangs were glinting in the dim lighting, his eyes holding a fascination Megumi was not going to entertain.
“No.” Megumi said, slipping further into the shadows he was hiding in.
“I thought kids liked candy? Well, I suppose stranger danger and all that.” Gojo tossed the sucker onto the counter and shrugged his shoulders. “You’re smart, aren’t you?”
“No.”
“No? So, what? You’re stupid?” Gojo made a face at that. “Why would you admit that?” Megumi didn’t offer him another word, turning and looking back at the ugly wallpaper he could see peeking out from a tear in the suede linings. “Heyyy…you came in with Naoya, right?” Megumi ignoring him did not deter him. “I just want to talk. You want something to drink?”
Megumi couldn’t leave. Naoya would beat him senseless for not following orders and sticking close. Gojo seemed to know that, continuing to ramble off questions and launch into stories. Megumi learned to tune him out, finding that the alpha liked the sound of his own voice far too much.
“—jaku.” Megumi found his head snapping to the alpha’s as the ghost of the name slipped from his lips. Gojo paused, his eyes narrowing slightly at the recognition of the name. “You know who he is?” Megumi still did not offer him a word, despite the way his breathing quickened. His heart was going to beat out of his chest.
The past three years he’d done nothing but search for Tsumiki and try to forget. Naoya rarely brought him out of Zenin compounds, and there hadn’t been any whispers for months on them. Megumi had wanted to kill them if not to silence them, then to get rid of the only thing that could remind his body what fear felt like.
“Interesting. It seems you are aware of the workings of our world. You’re what, six?” Gojo tilted his head, taking a closer look at Megumi. “I thought you were just a toy that Naoya was dragging around, but you’re not, are you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t recognize the name. It’s only something the heads of the clans and their inner circles know about.” The alpha seemed to think for a moment, the conversation waning slightly.
Naoya stepped back into the main room just then and Megumi snapped to attention, his eyes fixing to the floor and angling himself away from Gojo.
When Naoya spotted the other alpha sitting at the bar, close enough to Megumi to show they’d been conversing he stopped. “Satoru.”
“Naoya.”
“A pleasure.” Naoya smiled, irritation flickering in his eyes. “I didn’t think I would find the head of the Gojo clan on my turf.”
“Zenin turf.”
“I am a Zenin.”
“Not the Zenin.” Gojo snickered. “Just a pup playing pretend.” Naoya’s scent spiked with anger as his eyes narrowed.
“I am the heir to the Zenin clan, and you would do best to remember that.”
“I am head of the Gojo clan, and I only speak to your father regarding business. Why I am here in this unfortunate establishment your pathetic self seems to enjoy so much is neither here nor there. You just simply aren’t important enough to know the reasons.” The words were so ridiculous and offensive that Megumi almost felt proud that Naoya didn’t immediately jump the prime.
“You cannot speak to me like this.” Naoya merely hissed, but he was reaching out, grabbing Megumi by the arm and dragging him towards the exit as he continued to hurl audacities back at Gojo. It was comical, Naoya being all bark and no bite, retreating as he stood no real chance against Gojo. Megumi could do nothing but follow, knowing that there would be a bruise on his arm by tomorrow.
The two of them entered a waiting car, Naoya huffing and growling to himself, his pride wounded beyond repair but unable to do much to quell his anger.
When they reached the Zenin safe house, Naoya flew out of the car. He marched into his rooms and slammed the shoji doors shut, Megumi standing in front of the doors. He had not been dismissed, and so it was his duty to sit there for as long as Naoya made him.
It was twelve hours later that Naoya finally roused from his chambers, looking none worse for wear as he stalked past Megumi and down the hall as if nothing had happened. He refused to acknowledge the black spots dancing in the corners of his vision, he knew the punishments that would await should he fail at attending to the Zenin heir properly.
He followed until they came to a secluded office, Naoya throwing the doors open. The alpha had still not uttered a word to him since leaving the brothel. There was frustration simmering, and Megumi was forced to endure the selfishness of a subpar alpha that had just been insulted on his own territory.
And so, Megumi spent the entire day following Naoya around the compound, out into the city, into clubs, into brothels, and back to the compound.
He was not dismissed once.
He knew realistically Naoya would not notice if he went and took a few hours of rest, especially when the other alpha was sleeping, but Megumi also knew that Naoya would punish him severely for it just because he could. And Megumi was not interested in fucking up, not interested in punishments where fists and hands were all over him, where anything could be discovered at any time.
So, Megumi stayed.
He guarded the door.
He followed.
He stood in silence.
Forty hours and counting was how long the teenager was awake.
It was hour forty-four when Naobito Zenin called. Megumi could hear Naoya trying not to argue with his father over the phone, over what he did not understand. Frustration and anger were seeping through the walls, Megumi fighting his legs to keep himself standing, refusing to submit to his own body and exhaustion.
It was when the shoji doors to the alpha’s quarters were yanked open and the Zenin heir walked through the doors looking angrier than he had been days prior that he finally acknowledged Megumi’s presence.
“You’ve been requested.” Megumi did not know what that meant. Of course, he’d been sent on missions, he’d been ordered to kill people, to gather information, to do the whims and wiles of the Zenin clan, but never has the word requested been uttered to him. “I can’t fucking believe this. You are mine. You belong to me, my father wrote you over to me, and now he wants me to share?” Naoya seethed to himself. “And he wants me to share with that cocksucker? Fuck me.” Naoya turned and grabbed Megumi by the front of his hoodie. “You will report everything to me, you hear me boy? I want to know everything about that fucker’s workings, every word he says, everything.” Megumi nodded, not understanding what was being asked of him.
He was thrown into a car and driven into the center of Tokyo, Naoya grumbling beside him. Megumi did not understand, his hands curling around the knife at his thigh as more and more unfamiliar buildings passed them by.
And then the car stopped.
It stopped in front of a large skyscraper, the windows spotless, towering so far into the sky it disappeared amongst a few low hanging clouds. Megumi did not know where they were, only that Naoya threw the door open and all but kicked him to the curb before slamming the door shut and having his car drive off.
Megumi stood on the sidewalk unsure of what was expected of him.
And then Gojo Satoru walked out of the building, a blinding smile on his lips.
Megumi grimaced, taking a step away as the prime attempted to get closer. “I knew that coward would do it!” The prime snickered. “One call from daddy dearest and he’s surrendering with his tail between his legs. Honestly, I wasn’t even offended when he called me a cocksucking whore, but it does help that he said it to me when there’s something I want from him.” Megumi did not respond, glaring up at the alpha.
Most times he was simply uninterested in other people.
This was not most times.
This time he decided that he hated Gojo Satoru.
But there was nothing he could do as he was led into the tall building, ushered into the elevator and forced to the highest floor.
He simply obeyed as he was brought into an office, Gojo gesturing for him to sit in a chair across from the desk. “Now, you’re probably wondering why I called you here. And to be honest, I really just thought it’d be funny to fuck with Naoya, but then I remembered a little conversation that we were having…” Megumi couldn’t keep his eyes open.
It was the first time he’d sat down in forty-four hours.
His eyes were dropping, his limbs relaxing.
It did not escape Gojo’s attention. “Do they not let you sleep?”
“Zenin-sama did not dismiss me after your altercation.” Megumi mumbled, trying (and failing) to keep his chin from resting against his chest.
A pause.
“That was four days ago!”
“Zenin-sama did not see it fit to release me from duty.” Megumi slurred, before reaching up and slapping himself across the face. He blinked rapidly, his head shooting up as Gojo stood from his desk and rounded over to the pup.
“Well, this was no fun.” The alpha pouted. “You’re telling me that you haven’t slept in four days, that you haven’t left that bastard’s side in four days? Nothing?”
“Correct, Gojo-sama.” Megumi stood then, tilting his head to look up at the alpha. “Please forgive me, Gojo-sama.” He continued, more polite than he thought he could muster with the alpha. “If I sit I will pass out.”
“No.” Gojo waved his hand, reaching down. Megumi took a step back before the alpha could touch him. “I have a couch. There.” Gojo did not react, simply gestured over to the aforementioned couch. “Rest, we will talk when you are not seconds away from fainting.” Megumi eyed the alpha suspiciously.
“I am perfectly capable of my duties, Gojo-sama. Zenin-sama will not be happy if my visit takes longer than expected.”
“Naoya can kiss my ass.” Gojo waved off. He gestured to the couch once more, Megumi eyeing it suspiciously. But there really was no other choice. Megumi couldn’t leave (he’d be beaten), he couldn’t keep arguing and trying to get Gojo to speak with him (he’d pass out), and he certainly couldn’t drop his guard around the prime (he’d have to).
The boy sighed, shuffling over to the couch.
He was out before his head even hit the cushions.
Gojo stood there, staring at the young alpha, head tilting to the side as he took in how he was drowning in clothing. Layers both tight and loose hid everything, and Gojo had a hard time even figuring out how old the boy was. “Nanami.” Gojo called, opening his office doors and stepping outside. “I need you to find some information for me.”
The alpha sighed on the other end of the line. “You already have me stretched thin as it is. I have plans tonight and will not be working late for your personal whims, Gojo-sama.”
“The other things can wait.” Gojo waved off. “I need you to find out all you can about a raven-haired boy that follows Naoya Zenin around. I want to know his name, his age, and how he came into the Zenin clan.”
“You want me to go digging around Zenin personal affairs?” The alpha scoffed, his tone flat. “Absolutely not. Do that yourself.”
“Oh, come on Nanami. Don’t be like that.” Gojo teased. “You know you can’t say no.”
“No.” Nanami hung up and Gojo pouted, tucking his phone back into his pocket. When he walked back into the office, he paused, eyes scanning the expanse of the room.
Megumi was gone.