Chapter Text
Satoru Gojo had never wanted to become a father.
Not once in his life had he felt that instinctive pull others described so easily, the desire to create a child, an heir, an extension of oneself... even when his closest friends had begun mating, settling down, building families of their own. It wasn’t that he disliked those small creatures, quite the opposite. He found them adorable, even fascinating. The idea had never stirred anything inside him.
If anything, the relentless pressure from his family had achieved the opposite effect. The Gojo clan wanted an heir, a successor, someone worthy of carrying the weight of their name.
Satoru had refused them every single time.
He had refused to marry, found a mate. Satoru had refused to produce the child the council so eagerly expected. And, if he was honest with himself, a small part of him had taken genuine pleasure in watching the elders’ faces redden with frustration at every semiannual clan meeting.
At thirty-one, Satoru had devoted nearly all of his life to work. Family had never seemed compatible with his ambitions, nor with the relentless rhythm of the empire he was building.
He was young, brilliant, handsome, charismatic and wealthy. The list of qualities vastly outweighed his flaws. And the only flaw he openly acknowledged was his obsession with work, along with a rather clinical way of looking at the world.
A trait most of his former partners had found difficult to tolerate.
Apparently, discussing probability models or the genetic selection of coffee plants during a romantic café date wasn’t considered particularly charming.
To Satoru, it had always seemed like a minor inconvenience
After all, he had everything.
He was Satoru Gojo, a special-grade alpha, the head of the Gojo clan, and the founder of Azure Labs, a thriving biotech company specializing in the development of innovative medical treatments, particularly for ocular pathologies.
And contrary to popular belief, he hadn’t inherited an empire.
He had built one.
He founded Azure Labs in his early twenties, using the inheritance he received upon reaching adulthood, perhaps the only useful thing his family had ever given him.
In less than a decade, he had transformed it into something formidable.
And yet, at thirty-one… he wanted a child.
It wasn’t a sudden impulse. Nor a whim. It wasn’t the so-called “baby fever” often attributed to omegas. It was simply the desire to hold a small being in his arms. A being he would love, cherish, and shower with everything he owned. Because... he had spent years studying the workings of life at the molecular scale. Now, he wanted to hold it in his hands and watch it breathe.
For the first time, Satoru imagined leaving the laboratory earlier in the evenings, slowing down, building something that couldn’t be measured in stocks or patents.
Having a child, in itself, wasn’t complicated. All he had to do was sleep with an omega until they became pregnant. And he knew perfectly well that many omegas would fight for the chance to carry his child.
The problem lay... elsewhere.
He was not attracted to omegas. He preferred alphas, sometimes betas. Omegas stirred nothing in him. What truly excited him was the hunt, the domination of another predator.
In short, his preferences made natural conception unlikely.
But Satoru held a degree in molecular biology. And he maintained an almost obsessive fascination with DNA.
His problem was not unsolvable. There was in vitro fertilization, surrogacy, genetic selection.
Science offered so many elegant solutions.
And besides… he knew exactly what he wanted his daughter to look like.
Yes, a daughter.
Satoru had already decided.
He had requested genetic profiles matching his criteria. Only one reached eighty percent compatibility with what he was looking for. Satoru didn’t want her to resemble him entirely. His genes were dominant, almost arrogantly so, judging by how similar the members of his clan looked despite generations of mixing.
The remaining twenty percent would be left to chance, an unavoidable genetic variable.
Satoru wouldn’t go so far as to manipulate his own daughter’s DNA and refused any post-conception modification. No direct embryonic genome editing. No artificial alteration of eye or hair color.
Even he had limits. He played with the human genome, but he knew how dangerous that could be.
Plus, Satoru wanted natural perfection.
When his secretary, Riko Amanai, a female beta, handed him a file, Satoru calmly took the brown folder.
Among all the profiles studied, only one met his requirements. A willing omega prepared to act as a surrogate, the perfect match. Satoru lowered his gaze to the cardboard file. A photograph was stapled to it, and beneath the image was a name: Itadori Yuuji.
“Here’s the detailed file you requested, sir.”
“Thank you, Riko.”
Satoru flipped through the document with casual ease, his long pale fingers gliding over the pages while his blue eyes scanned the lines with a seemingly effortless swiftness.
Then he paused.
The alpha leaned back slowly in his chair, tilting it slightly as he lifted the folder to examine the photograph through his black glasses.
A faint smile curved his lips.
“So… this is the possible face of my daughter.”
“Yes, sir. She will be adorable", Riko replied, glancing at the photo.
Satoru spun his chair to face the floor-to-ceiling window. The sun was high, filtered by thick clouds, bathing his sleek office in a cold, pristine light. Without a word, he extended the folder toward Riko, who hurried to take it.
“My eyes are tired today. Summarize the file for me.”
She nodded, clutching the folder against her white blouse with one hand as she adjusted her bluish glasses with precise fingers.
“Of course, Gojo-san.”
She stepped three paces forward, positioning herself diagonally from the white-haired man, who sat with relaxed ease in his biomimetic chair worth nearly a million yen, a model designed to perfectly follow the curvature of the spine and provide optimal comfort.
“His name is Itadori Yuuji. Twenty-four years old omega. An ideal age for conception, by the way,” she said, a thin smile tugging at her lips. “An omega born in Sendai, to a family of modest means. He is the son of Kaori and Jin Itadori, both retired from a large local company. He grew up in Sendai before moving to Tokyo for business studies. He currently resides in the western suburbs of the city with an uncle who is rarely present.”
She paused, allowing her boss a moment to absorb the information. When Satoru tilted his head slightly, she continued.
“He is facing financial difficulties. That’s what led him to register with an agency specializing in surrogacy. Gojo-san… he wishes to become a surrogate to cover his grandfather’s exorbitant hospital bills. He enjoys American animated films, participates in university sports, donates blood, and he works part-time to cover-”
Satoru rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily.
“Riko. The essential data.”
“Of course. My apologies, sir.”
Riko bowed briefly. Her dark strands slipped forward, and for a fleeting moment her gaze caught the flawless details of her boss’s attire: the black cardigan with neat stitching, the perfectly pressed white shirt, the carefully tied gray tie.
His pale neck, the clean line of his jaw, the effortless elegance of his posture.
Her heart quickened, not with excitement, but with fascination.
He was genetically perfect.
So why desire a partner so different from him?
It was not her place to question.
Riko straightened.
“He is extremely fertile omega despite being a male. Estimated at ninety percent. He claims to have never had a partner during his heat periods. He is unmarked and has no partner. Of course, he will not have one for the entire duration of the contract. Embryo rejection risk is almost nonexistent. Clinical exams confirm he is intact, free of genetic disease or sexually transmitted infection.”
She swallowed as the alpha rested his elbow on the armrest, his chin propped against his hand, attentive.
“He suffers from no illness beyond stress… for reasons you know. Genetically, he inherits mostly from his father’s lineage. He is a dominant omega but... he was not raised as such. His behavior is therefore relatively docile.”
Satoru slightly wrinkled his nose.
“Hmm.”
“I have his full DNA profile. Sequencing reveals strong dominant markers: pigmentation, hair structure, ocular characteristics… His genetic heritage is comparable in strength to yours. The matching is excellent.”
A slight smile curved Riko's lips.
“He responded favorably to your pheromones during testing. And… for the first time, we have a real probability of obtaining non-uniform offspring. Fifty percent.”
Fifty percent.
She paused.
“It is the best rate our projections have ever yielded, sir.”
A fifty-fifty chance the child would resemble Itadori Yuuji or a member of his lineage. Riko understood: her boss wanted a child tailor-made.
“Good.”
Satoru straightened and held out his hand. She handed him the folder immediately.
“All the full details are there. After reviewing, would you like me to contact Itadori Yuuji to schedule artificial insemination sessions?”
Satoru did not answer right away.
His azure gaze lingered on the photograph stapled to the folder.
“The photo was taken at a festival with his friends,” Riko added, noticing his prolonged focus.
“It’s not relevant Riko.”
It was not the first time Satoru had seen this face. But this image was different, more natural.
On the photo, a pink-haired boy smiled at the camera. Another presence was suggested beside him, a shoulder cropped out, a few dark strands just off-frame.
And most importantly… a bright smile, soft pink hair, adorable freckles and big golden eyes…
Satoru pictured them softened by juvenile features, balanced with the contours of a child’s form.
He wanted them for his child, his daughter.
Satoru would pay whatever was necessary for this omega to carry his heir.
“Sir?”
“Has he indicated the date of his next heat cycle?”
Riko blinked, surprised.
Why that question?
Her boss had never shown the slightest interest in omegas… Had he changed his mind? Was he considering natural conception?
“They are expected in two months, sir.”
"Two months…" thought the alpha.
Satoru tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair and furrowed his brow when a small shiver ran down his spine. That thought was irrational. Satoru disliked biological variables beyond his control, especially when they involved his own body.
And yet… a calm smile curved his glossy lips.
With meticulous composure, he removed the staples holding the photo to the folder. Then he handed the document to his secretary, keeping the image gently in his hands.
“Prepare the contract Riko. Send a copy to Yuuji Itadori and have him read it carefully. Schedule a meeting in two weeks. I want to see him before he signs. We’ll discuss any final adjustments then.”
Satoru spun his chair toward his desk.
She watched as he opened a drawer and took out a finely carved wooden frame, adorned with delicate floral motifs.
Riko froze, inwardly astonished, as she saw her boss slide the photograph inside with almost tender care, then place the frame on his desk with a surprising gentleness.
But what was that?
She had seen omegas gripped by the baby fever before.
But with an alpha…
It was something else.
Something colder, more resolute, and almost unsettling.
“Send me a full copy of the file to my computer. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes, Gojo-san.”
Riko bowed, her fingers clutching Yuuji folder; then straightened and headed for the door.
“Riko.”
She stopped dead, without turning. She could feel the weight of his azure gaze pressing into her neck.
The alpha used pheromone suppressants, as company policy required… but Satoru Gojo’s gaze, his stature, the effortless authority in the way he carried himself made them irrelevant.
One look at him was enough. You knew he was a powerful alpha. Not the loud, overbearing kind, but the silent, commanding type, the kind who never had to raise his voice to dominate a room.
“Do whatever it takes to make Yuuji Itadori agree to carry my child.”
His voice was calm, measured, with no apparent threat.
Which made it all the heavier. Every word a calculated command, from a mind Riko had never managed to fully read.
“As you wish, sir.”
Riko drew a deep breath and left the office, her steps controlled despite the height of her heels. But a dull sadness gripped her chest.
In her eyes, the pink-haired omega had just been chosen.
And knowing the kind of man her boss was, Riko understood that chance had very little to do with it.
Maybe… this time would be different.
Riko returned to her office and placed the file atop a stack of documents, her fingers lingering on the cover for a moment longer than necessary.
Itadori Yuuji right ?
Yes. This time, she was certain it would be different. Because her boss had agreed to meet an omega, truly meet him, even if he just wanted to get a baby from the omega.
To her, that meant more than her boss would ever realize.