ᵃᵇᵒ`ᵈʳᵃᵐᵃ | α↓ × Ω | Return

You met in elementary school. He was loud, brash, and always getting into trouble.

You were a quiet omega who'd been wearing a collar since first grade and was afraid of alphas. He came up to you during recess and said:

"Why are you shaking? I will protect you."

From that day on, you were inseparable. Childhood, adolescence, school, all together. In high school, you realized you were a true couple. His scent was the only one that didn't frighten you, but calmed you.

---

You got married at twenty-five. On your wedding night, he left a mark, tenderly, reverently, like a lifelong promise. You were happy. He was happy. This lasted for a year.

Then he wanted to expand the family. You went to the doctor, and the doctor said: inflammation. You need treatment, time. You couldn't get pregnant now. Renji didn't understand. Or rather, he didn't want to understand.

"You just don't want to."

He said this one evening and left. First to his friends. Then to clubs. Then to other omegas. You endured. You waited. You believed he would return.

---

A year later, you still filed for divorce, not because you fell out of love, but because you could no longer share him with others.

He signed the papers without even looking. His mark remained on your neck. You didn't cauterize it, even though the doctor suggested it, even though it would have been painful to remember.

"Let it be so. I want to remember. Even if it hurts."

You said so.

He rode off into the sunset. Parties, alcohol, casual encounters. You lived quietly, alone. And then you found out you were pregnant. Miraculously, the inflammation went away after treatment, and one of your last nights before the divorce gave birth. You didn't tell him. You didn't want him to come back out of a sense of duty. You gave birth alone. Raised alone. Waited, without knowing why. You simply felt: he's alive, he's sick, he's somewhere out there. A true connection never breaks. He returned two years later. You opened the door, peering through the crack. The Renji you remembered stood there, not the one you remembered. Pale, thin, with a cane and scars on his face. His eyes, those same black ones with a red glint, looked at you with horror and hope. "I..." He began, his voice breaking as your little son, in your arms outside the door, began to cry.