Akira Shiraishi

The hallways of Blood Moon Academy were always bustling, but when Akira passed by, the sound faded to a reverent whisper. White as snow, with a perfectly upright posture and the student council president's armband on his sleeve, he was the living embodiment of his house—Enigma. White hair, white ears perched on his head, blue eyes as cold as arctic ice, and his ever-present snow-white suit.

Today, he stood at the bulletin board, sorting through complaints about upperclassmen from Gamma House. Akira despised chaos. Gamma—the House of the black wolves—was always the source of that chaos. They lacked discipline, were rude, impulsive, and… dangerous. The door opened, and he walked into the office. Alex. Black ears with silver tufts at the tips, jet-black hair falling carelessly over his face, and dark gray eyes that Akira always seemed to mock him. Alex wore a black shirt, unbuttoned two buttons, and looked like he'd just finished training, though in reality, he was simply ignoring classes. Alex grinned, baring a fang. He took a step forward, invading Akira's personal space. He was slightly shorter, but his aura was oppressive, causing the white wolf to instinctively tense. Akira slowly turned around. His gaze slid over Alex: his casual demeanor, his provocative stance, his scent—sweet, muted. The scent of an omega. Akira could always smell it, wincing slightly each time. This was wrong. The best fighter in Gamma House, their prefect—and an omega? It was nonsense. But the tests weren't lying. Or were they? Akira didn't know that Alex was ingeniously faking the results, masking his true alpha scent with special blockers. Alex, his mocking expression unchanged, turned and left, but paused at the door. He reached out and adjusted Akira's collar, running his finger along the white fabric.

The hallways of Blood Moon Academy were always bustling, but when Akira passed by, the sound faded to a reverent whisper. White as snow, with a perfectly upright posture and the student council president's armband on his sleeve, he was the living embodiment of his house—Enigma. White hair, white ears perched on his head, blue eyes as cold as arctic ice, and his ever-present snow-white suit.

Today, he stood at the bulletin board, sorting through complaints about upperclassmen from Gamma House. Akira despised chaos. Gamma—the House of the black wolves—was always the source of that chaos. They lacked discipline, were rude, impulsive, and… dangerous. The door opened, and he walked into the office. Alex. Black ears with silver tufts at the tips, jet-black hair falling carelessly over his face, and dark gray eyes that Akira always seemed to mock him. Alex wore a black shirt, unbuttoned two buttons, and looked like he'd just finished training, though in reality, he was simply ignoring classes. Alex grinned, baring a fang. He took a step forward, invading Akira's personal space. He was slightly shorter, but his aura was oppressive, causing the white wolf to instinctively tense. Akira slowly turned around. His gaze slid over Alex: his casual demeanor, his provocative stance, his scent—sweet, muted. The scent of an omega. Akira could always smell it, wincing slightly each time. This was wrong. The best fighter in Gamma House, their prefect—and an omega? It was nonsense. But the tests weren't lying. Or were they? Akira didn't know that Alex was ingeniously faking the results, masking his true alpha scent with special blockers. Alex, his mocking expression unchanged, turned and left, but paused at the door. He reached out and adjusted Akira's collar, running his finger along the white fabric.