Chapter Text
D: <Chuuya... it's so late. Are you coming back tonight? Where are you?>
C: <Don't worry, I'll come back tomorrow.>
That's all Dazai got that night, but at least it was something.
After what happened, Chuuya told him not to worry. How ironic is that? The weight on his chest is so heavy that Dazai has been struggling to breathe since Chuuya left.
At first, he reacted with rage – the room was a mess when finally Dazai calmed down. His clothes were discarded, and he spent hours under the shower spray tying to make his head stop hurting.
It didn't work.
The only thing Dazai gained was a much deeper cold settling in his bones, leaving him freezing inside out.
He crawled in bed, cried himself to sleep – nails biting so hard in the skin of his forearms that the burning of his scaped skin ended up being the only comfort he had left.
When he woke, it was almost midnight.
Chuuya wasn't there; nothing changed in the room.
He waited.
And waited.
Collected the ripped pages of his books, the shreds of a mug he smashed to the floor – thankfully, his laptop seems to be okay after being thrown to the floor along with all the stationery on his desk.
And the more Dazai waited, the more the hollow inside him kept growing.
Chuuya asked to leave him alone for a while.
How long what that supposed to be?
So he texted.
And he got almost an immediate answer.
One that didn't make him feel better – if anything, it made things feel real, beyond the pain he was already feeling.
But now, tucked in his bed, blankets thrown all over his head and staring at that single text, his fingers keep swiping over the keyboard, searching for the right words to type.
They never come.
All he manages to write is endless half sentences of apologies, desperate attempts to plead the Omega to come back... but he doesn't send anything at the end.
Exhausted, both mentally and physically, he hates the recognition that his rut is wearing out. He hates that his head is so damn clear now because rationalizing what happened earlier that morning... just makes him want to die.
And it's when he's almost passing out again that his phone vibrates.
C: <Don't do anything stupid.>
If there is any right answer to that text, sent at almost 1 AM in the morning, Dazai doesn't know.
The tears are just too many and too strong. They flood and die in the pillow, leaving him unable to react.
He wants to go back in time, and at the same time, he wants to disappear.
How can there be forgiveness for his actions?
Why is Chuuya caring, even now?
Dazai sits up slowly, struggling to breathe, anxiety making his throat dry and tight, and he feels nauseated.
If he keeps thinking, Dazai isn't sure he's not going to do anything stupid.
He rummages in his nightstand until he can find sleeping pills – medications he hasn't taken in months.
Dosages are forgotten, and he swallows a handful of them, chugging them down with the water bottle Chuuya made sure to get in his drawer.
And he slept – dreamless.
---
Dazai wakes up slowly the day after.
He doesn't know what time it is, but he feels like he slept for days. Still curled in bed, blankets tightly wrapped around himself, he listens quietly at the low noises reaching his ears.
Someone is in the room, which means... Chuuya is.
Carefully, he slides the comforter off his head, squeezing his eyes when the light hits him – it's almost painful; everything it's too bright.
But then the noises stop, and he hears a sharp inhale from the other.
"...did I wake you up?"
Blinking sleepy, adjusting to the light, Dazai finally looks at the room.
Chuuya is sitting on his bed, frozen in the action of pulling one sock up his feet, hair moist as if he just took a shower, but already dressed up in jeans and a pullover.
Shaking his head, the Alpha rises to his elbows, willing the sore muscles of his body to collaborate, feeling stiff and aching.
"When did you...?" Dazai tries to ask, head still splitting in half, forcing him to shut up.
Chuuya finally moves, opting to wear the other sock, taking his time. He shrugs lightly.
"An hour ago, or so."
It's quiet, incredibly quiet.
Dazai just lays down again, staring at Chuuya while the Omega shifts back a little, pulling his legs up and bringing his big Kirby plush on his lap, only to hug it tight.
"I tried to wake you up... but then I saw the pills, so I went to shower."
It's weird being face to face now.
Dazai keeps staring, but Chuuya hasn't made eye contact with him yet – not even once, by mistake.
His voice is low, stable, but Dazai knows it's forced. He can see it in the tense line of his shoulders, on the strong grip around the plush.
But it's when his eyes land on the Omega's left hand that he sees the bandages – up from the fingers, down to the wrist, covered by the sleeve.
"Chuuya..."
Calling his name, it's bittersweet – but Dazai can't help it. He needs to feel that name on his lips.
"I don't know how to apologize," the Alpha mutters, fists clenching around the comforter. "I... I wish there was something – anything – I could say that—"
"I don't want an apology, Dazai."
Chuuya's answer feels almost like a slap in the face, but his tone... his tone is gentle.
"I don't need one," Chuuya says slowly, weighing his words. "I just... I owe you tons of apologies as well, so... we're even."
To say that Dazai is stunned would be a euphemism, but those words do not make it any easier to bear the guilt that's sedimenting in his very soul.
"Even?" Dazai frowns, confused and – honestly – a little afraid because he doesn't understand where this conversation is going.
"No, Chuuya... whatever you think you need to apologize for... I... I don't know what you are thinking, but... what I did... we can never be even."
He tries to get up again, and even if his body strains, he turns around and sits up – but doesn't get out of bed, realizing he's still fully naked. The last thing he wants is to make Chuuya even more uncomfortable than what he looks like.
But the Omega is shaking his head, a forced, upset smile on his lips.
"What you did isn't your fault."
"It's very much my fault, Chuuya, and I don't pretend that we can forget it, but I don't want you to—"
"I made you do it!"
Now, Chuuya is looking up, staring at him straight in the eyes and...
Dazai shudders, eyes widening at the sudden outburst.
But Chuuya's face is pale if not for the angry red of his cheeks, for the dark bags under his eyes that probably are mimicking his own, and... he's shaking.
"No, Chibi, no," Dazai finds himself pleading. "None of that was your fault, don't even think that for one second."
But Chuuya is hugging the plush tighter, biting at his lower lip, grimacing and avoiding his eyes again – and now Dazai can see a bandage under his chin, covering a good part of his throat.
"But it is. And I know you want to always take all the blame, but this time you can't do it, Dazai. You just can't."
And really, the Alpha can hear the anger in the other's voice, but... he's confused and upset because none of this is Chuuya's fault. If Dazai had insisted more if he didn't decide to come back but listened to Oda...
Nothing would have happened.
Chuuya wouldn't be hurt – he wouldn't have to feel guilty of violence he didn't deserve.
"I don't want to talk about it now," Chuuya cuts him off as soon as the Alpha opens his mouth to respond. "There's no use in talking now, so please... don't make me."
And the last words... Chuya whispers them, curling on himself more, as if... as if he's scared. And the sight is so painful for Dazai that he needs to look away.
But he respects the request.
Actually, Dazai is thankful because he doesn't have the strength to talk about the day before – he's too ashamed. It's too fresh to look at, still.
It's painful for both of them.
"...where did you go last night?" He asks instead. "The E.R.?"
"No," Chuuya makes a weird sound, in between a scoff and a whistle. "I went to a shelter. They checked me up, gave me a morning-after pill... the E.R. would have been too complicated."
The remainder of just how bad Dazai fucked up makes him shudder, shame even heavier now.
"And are you... I mean, physically, are you okay?"
Chuuya glances at him, and when they make eye contact again, Dazai can see the strain in his eyes, even as the Omega nods.
But Chuuya doesn't voice his answer, and the silence falls upon them like a blanket of thorns.
"I—" Chuuya frowns, uneasy. "I didn't want to go, but... the drugstores don't sell that pill to unmated Omegas without a medical request, so..."
"Why not?"
Each sentence from each other is careful, as if they're both afraid of breaking the thin layer of ice they're stepping on.
Chuuya shrugs, and really, every time he shrinks behind that damn plush, Dazai feels the uncontrollable need to walk to him and just take the Omega between his arms – to hug him tight, suffocate him with affection until every bad thought disappears.
But he can't.
"I guess... it's to encourage us to report... to... you know," and he struggles to give an answer, but Dazai doesn't really need one.
To report sexual assaults.
He knows – just as well as he knows that even after so many battles have been fought by Omegas to make their rights stand out and are acknowledged, most of them still do not dare to denounce such acts.
They can't find their voice because they're scared of repercussion – of the shame.
It makes Dazai fill again with rage and self-loathing because he would have deserved it.
"That's why you didn't go do the E.R.?" He asks, almost dryly.
And when the Omega nods, the words slip out before Dazai can control them.
"You should have reported me," he hisses, staring at his own hands, at the knuckles turning white with how forceful he's clenching them.
But all he hears is a loud gasp, and when he looks at the Omega, Chuuya is gaping at him, shaking his head.
"Don't be stupid!" Chuuya snaps, looking at Dazai as if the Alpha has grown a second head. "Just because we had a rough fuck doesn't mean anything!"
It's Dazai's turn to feel shocked. The loud rush of blood in his ears is sickening as he pales, head spinning and mouth parted to exhale a rattled breath.
A... rough fuck?
"Chuuya, that was not a—"
"I don't wanna talk about it!"
The Omega slides off the bed, hands shaking visibly as he grabs his phone from the nightstand, unplugging it from the charger.
"No, Chuuya, really—"
"I said I don't want to, Dazai!"
Chuuya stomps, and this time his voice sounds wet – the Omega is on the verge of tears, making Dazai panic.
And Chuuya just... he can't talk about it.
Not now.
He's not ready. He doesn't want to hear it. Nor acknowledge it.
He will.
Chuuya isn't stupid. He's not delusional – he knows the severity of what happened the day before can't be left unaddressed but... just not now.
"Okay," Dazai mutters, swallowing drily as he powerlessly observes the Omega pack his class bag. "Okay, Chuuya, but—"
"I'm going to my afternoon classes," Chuuya announces, gulping down tears and picking a pair of shoes from the shoe rack, giving Dazai his back.
"Are you sure...?"
"And I was thinking," Chuuya keeps going, lacing his shoes, still not looking at the Alpha. "That since we have only eight days of courses left before Christmas, I could just go home a little early, you know? I... I think it's better for both of us."
Dazai feels his heart stop for a second, his stomach drops.
He's not blind to the frenetical movements of the Omega, of his fast speech, of his hurry – a coping mechanism to avoid thinking too much.
But still...
"Yeah..."
Dazai can't really object to that.
It's a simple thing, a smart decision, really... but it means so much more.
They even discussed spending Christmas together.
For Chuuya to go home only for a couple of days instead of the usual two weeks vacation and...
And now that option – that wishful dream – is gone.
But as Chuuya said, it's for the best.
He won't take away the Omega's freedom, as long as the other manages to get a handful of what happened between them on his own terms.
"Yeah?" Chuuya flashes him a fake, forced smile as he grabs his jacket. "Great," he says, nodding.
"Great," he repeats, wrapping a scarf around his neck. "I'm glad you agree—"
"Chuuya..."
"I'm sorry," Chuuya stresses the word, fingers trembling as he zips his back. "I'm gonna be late," he says, turning around and getting the door.
And Dazai doesn't have time to stop him, once again left behind to stare at the Omega flee from him.
Is this how it's gonna be from now on?
Lying down with a huff, Dazai presses the heels of his hand on his eyes, trying to cool the burning down, but all he feels is the intense grieving that's settling under his skin.
When he manages to get out of bed, he finally looks at the time on his phone.
It's not even 2 PM, which means that classes aren't to start for at least another 30 minutes – one more proof that Chuuya just genuinely ran away from him.
It's hard to get dressed after that.
It's hard to call Odasaku, asking for a place where to crash – listening to his questions without the bravery to ask.
"I'll tell you later," he just mutters, closing the call.
Dazai has no intention of staying in this room if that makes Chuuya uneasy – how can it not?
So he packs a small bag with his essentials. He's about to leave when, after a last look around the room, his eyes fall on the Omega's nest – to that huge stupid Stitch sitting on the fluffy carpet on the floor.
He drops the bag, walks to it – glares at it.
The first instinct is to rip the stuffed toy apart, but it only makes Dazai chuckle darkly at his own thought – that would be stupid.
But the Omega's scent lingers on the blankets, on the pillows, and even if Dazai knows he has no right to do it, he flings on the bed heavily.
Eyes closed, unmoving, Dazai just breathes in.
Chuuya's scent fills his lungs, soothes him – but at the same time, it stabs Dazai with countless sharp blades.
The Alpha just lies there for a while, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, for his head to stop pounding.
"I love you," he whispers to no one, letting the words roll on his tongue slowly, savoring saying them out loud, imagining how it would feel about telling him – wondering if he will ever get the chance to, now.
"I love you so fucking much."
And before he leaves, Dazai picks one of
of his own sweaters from the closet, carefully choosing the one that smells like him the most, and placing it on Stitch's head, in plain sight for Chuuya to notice when he'll be back.
And he hopes that sooner or later, Chuuya will be able to find comfort in his scent again.
---
Chuuya is grateful for space.
He doesn't like the idea of Dazai leaving the room all to him in some sort of self-punishment, but... at least he knows that his friend will keep an eye on him.
It's almost surreal to spend the days as if nothing happened, with Dazai's bed
never messed up, without the Alpha's clothes around for Chuuya to pick up – aside from that sweater Chuuya found on Stitch three days before.
He hasn't touched it yet.
It seems like the fabric is staring at him, calling him to pick it up, but he's fought that need.
He and Dazai shared a couple of texts over those 72 hours – mostly polite and impersonal check-ups on each other, aside from Chuuya telling him in the morning that he will leave for home later that afternoon.
He got no answer to that text.
But it's while he's packing his duffel bag that Chuuya can't bring himself to ignore Dazai's sweater any longer.
He sits on the bed with it in his hands, and it's a strange tingling feeling that spreads from his fingers through his whole body – even if it doesn't make sense.
But... it's a nice feeling. It's warm.
And Chuuya is taking his time trying to wrap his mind around what happened between him and Dazai – stepping back through the events, rewinding every single memory, finding more and more reasons to feel guilty for the both of them.
The more Chuuya thinks, the more he's slowly accepting that no matter how he turns the events around, he can't pinpoint a single one that shows any hint of who's actually at fault.
The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that, maybe, searching for faults is wrong.
Nothing will ever erase the memory.
His body still shows clearly the signs – bruises scattered all around, bite marks, scratches... but all of that happened before Dazai—
Chuuya takes a deep breath, biting hard at his lips.
—before Dazai forced himself on him.
He only carries the marks on his left hand of that day, which he keeps carefully bandaged not to see the imprint of Dazai's teeth on his skin.
But the resentment he felt at first slowly vanished, and Chuuya can't find it anywhere inside him.
He doesn't blame Dazai.
And it's repeating that over and over in his head that Chuuya pulls the sweater up to his face, that he presses his nose deep in the folds of the fabric, inhaling the Alpha's scent deeply.
It doesn't feel wrong – it doesn't make him afraid, as he feared.
It's good.
It's so good that he feels his cheeks heat up and his eyes burn again after three days because... God, he misses Dazai so much.
No matter how hesitant he was, no matter the plain fear he couldn't fight, Chuuya had still wished for Dazai to hold him tight the other morning.
It's so damn hard to deal with all the emotions he feels because Dazai is at the same time the reason by he's hurt – why his heart can't find peace for days – and the sole thing that he needs.
And maybe he's sick. Perhaps he's not right in the head because anyone would react differently after such a traumatic event, but Chuuya... he just can't.
He's too deep.
He loves Dazai, and there's nothing that can make that change – especially not something that was driven out by madness and biology – no matter how awful.
Dazai was trying.
It was Chuuya giving him a hormone shot.
It was Chuuya that didn't leave when the other asked – and damn, Dazai begged him—
Squeezing his eyes, Chuuya hugs the Alpha's sweater a little tighter.
There's no single fault to be found.
They both fucked up.
So Chuuya ends up packing the sweater as well.
He zips the duffle bag, takes a last check to the room to be sure he does not forget anything, and once he's ready to go, he lights up his phone one last time.
But there's still no answer from Dazai.
It's still pretty early for his train, over an hour to go, but as he waits at the bus stop, his heart is restless.
Is Dazai okay? Did he do something stupid...?
Or maybe has decided to avoid Chuuya altogether?
Chuuya keeps staring at the open chat box with "Mackerel" on top.
And when the bus comes, he hops on it, finds a seat, and just... goes back to stare at the screen.
How can you leave without saying goodbye?
"But I'll be back," he grunts between his teeth, talking to himself, and a couple of heads turns to look at him curiously.
With a huff, Chuuya shuts the screen and pockets the phone. He turns his head to a side, forehead pressed on the window to look outside, trying to distract himself.
But just then... his phone vibrates – and Chuuya's heart jumps in his throat.
Incoming call...
<Mackerel>
Chuuya feels stupid when his finger is trembling while swiping the screen to answer, but he's quick at putting it at his ear.
"Dazai?"
"I was sleeping!" Dazai's voice is still groggy as he whines – he's out of breath. "Did you leave already?!"
Chuuya's heart misses a beat.
"I—" Biting his lower lip, he fights a small smile. "No, I'm going to the station now. Did you sleep all day?"
Dazai huffs, and Chuuya can hear him move around, some rustle of fabric.
"Y-yeah, I stoned myself," Dazai groans. "Can I come to see you at the station? Please?"
Now, Chuuya feels like crying again at that plead, and he's nodding furiously, but it takes a moment for him to realize that Dazai can't see him.
"Yes," he answers softly. "My train leaves from platform 5."
"I'll be there," Dazai breathes in the receiver before the call ends.
Chuuya looks at the phone confused for a second when the line goes dead but then...
"I'll be there."
He can't help but smile, feeling a little warmer in the face.
---
Chuuya is sitting on a bench for a while when the train reaches the platform. It's well over fifteen minutes before the scheduled departure, but Dazai is still nowhere to be seen.
Chuuya is battling, now, as anxiety wraps around him again, in between relief and disappointment.
He's tempted to text or call, but there's a stupid petty voice in his head that keeps saying not to.
That if Dazai cares... he'll show up.
Rationally, Chuuya knows that Dazai is probably rushing. However, he has no idea where his friend lives, so it could really take a lot.
But he still can't hush that voice at the back of his mind.
Fifteen minutes turns into ten, and now disappointment is settling in slowly.
There's still time, right?
The line for the tickets is already long, so eventually, Chuuya stands up to queue as well, still waiting.
And ten minutes turns into five...
Chuuya is one of the few passengers left on the platform, along with those arriving in a hurry.
Taking a deep breath, Chuuya tries to force down the lump in his throat, standing again and grabbing his duffel, ready to get in.
He slides between the seats until he finds his own, and with a last glance at his phone that shows no new notifications, he sets his bag under his seat.
But as soon as he's sitting down, something catches his eye outside the window.
---
The train is leaving in four minutes.
Dazai can barely check the time on his phone while he's running like a madman.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Platform 5.
Sprinting through along the platform, Dazai can't spot Chuuya anywhere. Actually, he can barely spot anyone at all.
The train is ready to leave, the conductors check their watches, and a couple of late passengers scan their tickets.
And Dazai feels like his lungs are about to burst when he stops, bending with his hands on his knees to try to catch his breath, when—
"Dazai?!"
It comes from behind him, and when the Alpha turns around and sees Chuuya standing just outside one of the train doors, eyes wide as saucers...
Having Chuuya between his arms never felt better.
He didn't think one second before sprinting to the Omega, before wrapping him into his arms, pressing him against his chest.
Chuuya stiffens, taken by surprise, and as much as Dazai doesn't really want to let go, he starts to pull away. But the Omega's arms close around his waist.
Dazai can feel his nose nuzzle into his jacket and tighten the hold, exhaling long and slow, and he...
"I love you."
He can hear the soft gasp, the shudder shaking the Omega's frame. But the arms around his back just squeeze him tighter – and Dazai's heart has never felt fuller.
He didn't plan to say that.
Dazai had thousand of things he wanted to say to Chuuya, but that came easily.
It's just the truth, and it's so much more meaningful than anything else he could have said – it means everything and more, and saying out loud to Chuuya it's... incredible.
Dazai himself is stunned, and he can't help but hide his face in Chuuya's hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, holding him so close...
Chuuya is overwhelmed. He doesn't want to let go, not even to look at Dazai and make sure he heard right, but he knows he did, and for a moment, nothing else matters but the way Dazai is softly crooning around him.
And probably the Alpha isn't even aware of that, but to Chuuya, it feels perfect. Nothing else exist.
But then one of the Alpha's hands travels unconsciously to his head, tangling in his hair, and Chuuya is reminded of how not okay all of this is – not yet.
Because as soon as he feels Dazai's fingers brush against his nape, he gasps again – but not pleasantly. He stiffens, instinctively jerking back a little in the hug, and Dazai takes his hand away immediately, sensing the change.
"Chuuya—"
There's a loud whistle resonating in the air.
"I'll call you," Chuuya mutters, arms sliding away from around Dazai's body as he takes half a step behind. He hates to see the agony in the Alpha's eyes when he can't do anything else but let Chuuya go.
"I promise, we'll make it better, yeah...?" he tries to smile, reaching for one of Dazai's hands to squeeze it quickly, stepping back.
And he's already turning around when Dazai tugs at the fingers still in his hand.
"Chuuya, I'm so sorry—"
"I know," Chuuya cuts Dazai's breath halfway – one of his hands is cupping the Alpha's face.
"I know you are. I am too."
Dazai covers the Omega's hand on his own, nuzzling his face into the warm palm, inhaling his scent almost desperately when Chuuya tries to pull away.
"I mean it," Dazai mutters – if about the apology or the confession, Chuuya doesn't know.
He wants to believe it's for both.
One more whistle startles them, and Chuuya smiles at him – for real, a genuine, loving smile.
"Me too," he says in a whisper, stepping back again and into the train.
Two seconds later, the door slides shut, and they stare at each other through the glass until the train starts moving.
Dazai doesn't run along with it – he doesn't have it in himself to do it, shaken and so baffled by how much can change in just a couple of minutes.
And when Chuuya disappears from his sight, when the train starts to speed up, it feels like all that part of that sorrow he was fostering inside goes along with it.
It's not okay yet, but Dazai can see that spark of hope now. Maybe not everything is lost. Perhaps he can do better.
And as the train disappears, Dazai's lips stretch in a quiet smile.
---
The train ride felt too short and way too long at the same time.
Chuuya kept spacing out, trapped in a dream-like state that made his mood swing super high and incredibly down, depending on how his thoughts swayed.
/"I love you."/
Dazai said it.
He said it first.
And Chuuya can't help but shiver every single time he lets that small sentence resound in his head, closing his eyes to savor it, concentrating his senses on the Alpha's scent still lingering on his clothes after that hug.
But then he remembers how his body froze at the mere brush of Dazai's fingers against his nape and...
He feels horrible.
And Chuuya kept going back and forth between those two emotions without a single break for the whole ride.
By the time he arrives in Osaka, he's exhausted, and the only thing he wants is his nest.
He's once again lost in the loop of his thoughts while the train gets into the station, and the Omega can help but wonder if... if he was supposed to say it too.
If Dazai expected it.
But Chuuya got caught by surprise, not ready to hear that – let alone say it.
And sure, the moment was low-key perfect as a drama set – the hurried words, the train ready to depart, their emotions being a mess – but Chuuya imagined it different, their first time confessing to each other.
Something more intimate, slower, where they could stare into each other eyes and smile, kiss, make love...
But at the same time, Chuuya wants to treasure Dazai's confession close to his heart – because if he's got to know the Alpha as much as he thinks, well... Chuuya is pretty sure Dazai wasn't really planning to say that.
And the knowledge of those so simple and yet incredibly strong words being uttered without control, so genuinely, authentic... it makes him feel all fuzzy.
So yeah.
Chuuya's head is a mess, his heart is, and he can't shake the weird mix of sadness and happiness off.
He swore to himself that he's shed enough tears in the last four days. That he was done being a crybaby – he was strong enough to pull himself together and keep heading forward, but...
The moment he steps out from the train and sees his sister waiting with a big, loving smile
Chuuya already feels his eyes burn.
And when he reaches her, and Kouyou opens her arms wide for him, Chuuya is too tired to fight it.
She's soft, familiar, and smells like home. But, the moment her arms close around his frame, Chuuya knows that pretending to be okay is useless.
"Oof—"
The Alpha hugs him so tight when Chuuya starts sobbing against her neck, breathing her scent deeply to let it set inside his very soul.
"When mom said you were coming a week early, I knew something was wrong. Why didn't you call me, dummy?"
Chuuya shakes his head, sniffling and whining like a child, only hugging himself closer to her body, and she strokes his hair and back affectionately, kissing his head with tenderness.
"Damn, I hate to be right every single time," she murmurs, rolling her eyes back.
And Kouyou doesn't really press on Chuuya to stop, but she nudges at him gently, peeking at his face with a worried frown.
"Hey," she calls, offering a concerned smile. "Will you be okay if we go home, have dinner, and we talk after that? Mom and Dad are waiting."
Chuuya nods, biting at his lower lip, and leans back with a deep breath, cheeks reddening with embarrassment.
He presses the hem of his sweater under his eyes, trying to dry his face, and he lets Kouyou take the duffle from his shoulder to lead him outside the station to the car.
And honestly?
Coming back home was the best choice.
Chuuya can leave everything that upsets him at the back of his mind as soon as he steps inside his home.
His mother has cooked for an army, and it's just too easy to forget for a while. He doesn't even have to pretend.
And later that night, after a much-needed shower that seems likable to wash away all the negativity that still burdened him, Chuuya finds his thoughts much less confused. Which is great because he knows Kouyou is going to burst into his room any moment now.
As predicted, she does – dressed with a stupid Christmas-themed pajama and throwing some matching one to Chuuya's face.
"What is this?" Chuuya laughs, staring at the hideous brown pattern.
"Grandma's presents for our Christmas sleepover. We're going to get her here in a couple of days, but I thought this was a fun way to lift the mood," she grins, plopping down in the middle of his nest.
And Chuuya can only watch as she gets swallowed by the pile of blanket and pillows – the nest in his house is his real one, and it's huge.
"So, you gonna put it on or what?" she huffs, waving his hand for Chuuya to actually wear the pajama. The Omega nods even if he's painfully aware that this is not gonna be pleasant for much longer.
"Yeah, okay," he sighs. "I'll go change—"
"Do it here," Kouyou lifts an
eyebrow, skeptical. "We were never shy of each other. Why begin now?"
And that leaves him speechless because...
It's so obvious already that she knows. Or at least... she got some hint.
"Ane-san..." Chuuya grimaces, looking at his feet in defeat.
"Does this have something to do with the fact that you kept pulling your sleeves up to the top of your fingers?" She asks, nor more softly, understanding that she touched the exposed nerve. "...or with the fact that you have your hood on and so tight around your neck?"
"Mom and Dad noticed?" Chuuya asks in a whisper, but she shakes her head.
"They are just too happy to have you home to notice yet," Kouyou's shoulders sag. "Besides... you didn't cry your eyes out on them as soon as you arrived so..."
"It's complicated," Chuuya admits.
"Are you in trouble?" she asks then, and Chuuya shakes his head.
"Are you hurt?"
Chuuya hesitates.
"...it's not... just that easy to answer."
"Oh, Chuuya," she huffs, moving to the edge of the bed. "Whatever it is... you know you don't have to be afraid to show or tell me."
Nodding, Chuuya drops his hood, scratching his head a little anxious.
"Are they asleep?" he asks, nodding with his head in the direction of their parent's room.
"They're in bed, don't worry."
"Okay," Chuuya nods again, licking a corner of his mouth before he starts to strip.
And when he's just halfway naked, Kouyou stands and stops his hands taking them in hers, forcing Chuuya to look at her in the eyes.
"Before you tell me anything," she starts, and... she's stiff, nervous. Her voice is steady but low. "...all of this was consensual, right?"
Chuuya's heart misses a beat, and he swallows soundly, lowering his gaze again.
"...Chuuya?"
His sister sounds out of breath.
"Yes—" he croaks, squeezing her hands tight. "I mean... most of it."
And then Kouyou unlaces their hands, taking his brother's face in her palms.
When Chuuya looks again into her eyes, the worry is so deep that he feels awful – because of shame, but also because of guilt.
"Who...?"
Chuuya's lips press together in a thin line, and he doesn't have to say it. She knows already.
"Why? What the hell—"
"He... his rut. I convinced him on spending it with me," Chuuya admits, worrying at his lips almost painfully as he tries to lean back from his sister's hold.
She lets him, her arms falling at her sides, but she looks so angry—
"A rut?" She asks, skeptical, shaking her head. "This looks like a wild animal attacked you!"
"I know," the Omega grimaces, hurrying into wearing the top of the pajama, needing to feel covered – protected from her eyes, but also his own.
"But it looks worse than it is, Ane-san," he adds, doing a quick job discarding his pants, so he can finish change quickly.
"You said most of it," the woman shakes her head again, eyes inspecting his neck, the bite mark on his throat that now it's not hidden by the fabric.
"Chuuya, I'm about to fucking lose it, so tell me!"
"Can you keep quiet?!"
The last thing Chuuya wants is their parents to hear them or come to check on them because he's so on edge he won't be able to keep it up with the pretense – his hands are already shaking, his stomach twisting.
"The hell I'm gonna stay quiet," Kouyou snarls, but
her tone is much lower now. "My little brother is hurt, and someone is gonna pay for it."
"Drop the Yakuza talk Ane-san," Chuuya grumbles, finally able to drop in his nest. He sits, drawing his knees to his chest, and pulls the blanket up to his chin, still avoiding her eyes.
"Chuuya, please," she whines now, following him between the blankets and sitting close to him.
She gently takes his chin in her hand and turns his face to her again.
"What happened...?"
And Chuuya tells her.