Chapter Text
Akihiko had to get married. He didn’t want to. He had never wanted to. But he had no choice if he intended to continue living the life he knew — with a violin in his hands and an audience before him.
The world turned out to be a remarkably ungrateful place once you turned twenty-five. The Mandatory Marriage Law, which he had successfully ignored for years, fell on him like a Damocles’ sword hanging by a single hair above his head. He had known this day would come. He had simply been too busy playing, traveling, and living to pay it any attention. Now he had barely five days left. Five days to find a suitable husband. Five days to find a compatible omega, fall in love, flirt, build a relationship, drop to one knee, and propose. Then organize a wedding and sign the papers in time. Impossible. Completely impossible. So he chose the most practical solution — a contractual marriage agency.
For the right fee, the agency would find a suitable partner and arrange everything necessary. It was more of a business transaction than a real marriage. The contracts were usually for several years. When one of the parties met their true mate, the two could calmly sign divorce papers and go their separate ways. Until then, the law was satisfied and no one asked unnecessary questions. That was more than enough for Akihiko.
The employee handed him a tablet with the candidates’ profiles. He scrolled through several photos with little interest. Smiles, biographies, personal qualities, hobbies — everything blended into one indistinct blur before his eyes. In the end, he simply pointed at the first blond omega who caught his gaze. It didn’t matter. He would see this boy at most twice in his life — once at the wedding and once at the divorce. It didn’t matter what he looked like. It didn’t matter what his name was. It didn’t matter what his personality was like.
The next day, Akihiko was leaving for Europe for yet another tour. The boy was probably still finishing high school, worrying about exams and his future. Not that Akihiko particularly cared.
The wedding ceremony was short and completely devoid of romance. The officiant read the necessary clauses. A few signatures followed — his own and that of the boy’s mother, since the omega was still underage. Then everyone took a polite sip of champagne. Finally, Akihiko handed over the check. The woman tucked it carefully into her bag with the movements of someone afraid of losing something precious. Throughout the entire time, the omega never once lifted his head. Akihiko saw only the blond strands falling over his face. And that was all. When he boarded the plane a few hours later, he realized he didn’t even know what his husband looked like. He didn’t know the sound of his voice. He didn’t know the color of his eyes. Hell, he wasn’t even sure of his exact name.
Two years later
Akihiko woke up to the persistent ringing of his phone. It was barely seven in the morning. He had ended the first call without looking at the screen, but seconds later came the second. Then the third. An unknown number. He usually didn’t answer unknown numbers so early, but the person on the other end clearly had no intention of giving up. With a quiet sigh, he reached for the nightstand and accepted the call.
“Hello?”
“Good morning. I’m calling from Kenzo Tenma Hospital. I’m looking for Mr. Akihiko Kaji regarding the treatment of your husband.”
Akihiko blinked sleepily.
“My husband?”
For a few seconds, he had no idea what the woman was talking about.
Then he remembered. The contractual marriage. So much time had passed that he had almost forgotten it existed.
“Yes, your husband, Haruki Kaji,” the woman confirmed. “Unfortunately, you haven’t signed consent for certain medical procedures, and he needs them right now.”
Akihiko sat up in bed.
“I’m currently abroad. I’ll be back next week and I can fill out all the necessary documents then.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“Mr. Kaji, I’m afraid you don’t understand the situation. Haruki needs treatment now. Not in a week. We can send you the documents electronically. You just need to fill them out and sign them as soon as possible.”
Something in her voice finally woke him up completely.
“Is it that serious?”
“Yes. Please.”
Akihiko ran a hand through his hair. He didn’t know this boy. They hadn’t exchanged a single word in their entire lives. In practice, they were strangers connected only by a signed contract. But he wasn’t heartless.
“Send me the documents.”
“Thank you.”
Less than ten minutes later, the forms were filled out and returned. Just to be safe, he even scheduled a meeting with the attending physician for the week he would return, so he could sign all the necessary originals. When he finished, he glanced at the clock. He had lost no more than fifteen minutes. And yet, for some reason, he couldn’t fall back asleep.
A week later, Akihiko was sitting in a doctor’s office instead of a rehearsal room. Across from him sat the doctor, and beside him — a police officer.
“The attack on Mr. Haruki Kaji was random, not premeditated,” the officer explained. “His blocking patches stopped working. He was at the beginning of his heat, and that triggered a reaction in the alphas present. The law requires you to watch the footage and confirm that your husband did not provoke the attackers.”
Akihiko nodded. The clip lasted less than a minute. It felt far too long.
On the screen, four alphas had pinned a blond boy against the wall of a narrow alley. A fifth lay unconscious on the ground. At least one had managed to take down. The next few seconds turned into chaos of fists, growls, and desperate resistance. And screams. So many screams. Then the recording ended. Akihiko signed the necessary documents almost mechanically.
When he was left alone with the doctor, the man slid a thick folder across the desk.
“This is your husband’s discharge summary.”
The folder opened. Photos. Medical descriptions. Pages of findings. He didn’t understand any of it, but the doctor explained.
“Seventy-eight bite wounds. Fortunately, none on the scent gland. He will make a full physical recovery. Full psychological recovery will take longer.”
Seventy-eight bites… Akihiko felt his fingers tighten around the papers.
“He was with us for ten days. Two of them in an induced coma because of the pain. We couldn’t start part of the treatment without your consent, and reaching you was difficult.”
Guilt pricked unpleasantly somewhere under his ribs. He hadn’t done anything wrong. And yet…
“He will be discharged today,” the doctor added with a smile. “Room thirty-five. If you’d like to see him.”
Akihiko closed the folder.
“Yes.”
An unfamiliar woman was sitting outside the room.
He hesitated for a moment.
“Excuse me… you’re Haruki’s mother, right?”
The woman looked up.
“No. I’m Mafuyu’s mother. His friend.”
“I see. Then his mother is inside?”
A short silence followed.
“His mother passed away when he was little.”
Akihiko froze.
“And the woman from the wedding?”
The woman lowered her gaze.
“His stepmother. She left after the wedding. She never came back.”
For the first time in years, Akihiko felt something unpleasant stir in his chest.
That check. The money. This marriage. Suddenly the picture looked completely different.
“Don’t worry,” the woman said quickly, clearly misreading his expression. “Haru will never ask anything of you. His student insurance covers the expenses. I will help him get back to the dorm.”
Akihiko handed her the basket of fruit he had bought at the entrance.
Then he opened the door. And froze. The boy he remembered only as a blond head above the marriage certificate was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was terribly thin. Far too thin. His face was covered in bandages and fading bruises. Both of his arms were wrapped in gauze. Bandages also peeked out from under the collar of his T-shirt. The gray garment hung on his body as if it belonged to someone else. He looked small. Fragile. Like an abandoned kitten someone had forgotten in the rain. Akihiko swallowed hard. No one deserved this. Absolutely no one.
Forty minutes later, he was already driving toward the dormitory. Haruki sat silently in the back seat. He hadn’t spoken a single word. Akihiko assumed he simply didn’t want to talk. When they arrived, he realized how wrong he was.
On the way to the dormitory, Akihiko had imagined something completely different. He hadn’t expected luxury. After all, Haruki was a student. He had assumed it would be a small apartment or at least a decent dorm room — cramped but clean. A desk under the window, a few shelves with textbooks, scattered notes. Maybe a potted plant slowly withering because its owner kept forgetting to water it. Something ordinary. Something one could call home.
Instead, the moment he entered the building, he was hit by the smell. A mix of cheap food, damp clothes, and cleaning product that failed to hide anything. The corridors were narrow and poorly lit. The walls bore traces of old repairs and peeling paint. Music played somewhere in the distance. Shouts and laughter came from another room. Akihiko frowned. The noise alone was enough to give him a headache.
When they reached Haruki’s room, his expectations collapsed completely. The space was so small it barely fit four beds. Four. For a moment, he couldn’t even understand how anyone could live like this. There was barely enough space between the beds for two people to pass each other. Clothes, shoes, chargers, and textbooks were scattered everywhere. Empty energy drink cans were piled on one desk. Headphones with a frayed cable hung from another. The air was stuffy. The window was open, but it didn’t help much.
His gaze stopped on Haruki’s bed. It was the one closest to the door. On the blanket lay a few textbooks, a packet of rice crackers, and an old laptop with a cracked corner. That was all. There were no photos. No decorations. No personal items that suggested anyone felt comfortable here. Just a place to sleep.
Akihiko opened the wardrobe. Half of it was empty. All of Haruki’s clothes fit on a few hangers. Next to them stood a single suitcase. For a moment, he realized something he hadn’t noticed earlier. This boy had nowhere to go. No family waiting for him. No home of his own. No one waiting for him at all.
And then his gaze returned to the bandaged hands, the bruises on his face, and the way Haruki could barely stand on his own feet. There was no chance he would recover here. Absolutely none.
“You’re coming with me,” Akihiko said.
Haruki lifted his head.
His golden eyes were filled with confusion.
“My house is standing empty. I’m leaving on tour for over a year. There are people who take care of it. You’ll stay there until you recover.”
The boy opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something. No sound came out. Only then did Akihiko remember the bandage around his neck. And he understood. That was why he was silent. That was why he hadn’t said a single word.
“I won’t argue with you,” he said softly. “Pack your things.”
Less than ten minutes later, the suitcase was closed. That was everything he owned. When he left him in the guest room that evening, Akihiko leaned against the doorframe.
“Don’t move anything and don’t worry about anything. Just rest.”
Haruki only nodded.
“When I come back… we’ll figure out what to do with this marriage.”
And he walked out the door.