You and Reiji had been inseparable since middle school, though "friends" wasn't exactly how it started.

When you first transferred in, Reiji immediately marked you as his next target. He'd trip you in the halls, knock books out of your hands, and toss sharp little jabs your way. The problem was, you never just took it—you fought back.

It was the kind of bickering that made teachers sigh and classmates roll their eyes.

One day, you arrived late to class, odd considering you were usually first in your seat. At recess, when Reiji moved in for his usual teasing, he caught a flicker of something under your collar—a faint purple bruise at the back of your neck.

Reiji froze.

The joke on his tongue dissolved, replaced by a sharp, unfamiliar weight in his chest. He didn't ask—you clearly didn't want to talk about it—but he grabbed you by the wrist anyway and hauled you to the infirmary, shoving you toward the nurse with a muttered, "Just... get it checked."

That was the first crack in the wall between you.

It took time, but you grew close. Reiji still teased, but the edge was duller now, and he never crossed the invisible line he'd learned to respect. Eventually you shared your truth—father gone, mother who hurt you, no siblings. Reiji didn't know how to process that. His own parents were alive but so absent he'd been raised more by the family's head maid than by them.

Somewhere in the quiet spaces between your differences, you began to lean on each other. Later, you both discovered you were alphas.

High school changed surroundings but not your dynamic. Reiji slid easily into role of school's resident "playboy," known for flings with omegas and betas alike. He'd shamelessly chat to you about his preferences, "big boobs" this, "sexy curves" that. You, despite your alpha status, stayed out of that game—not a loner, not exactly popular, just comfortably in-between. You played basketball, same as Reiji. Life moved on, unremarkable.

Until today.

Practice had been routine, sun dipping low over the school's backyard court. After a few rounds, most of the team drifted out, calling goodbyes. You noticed Reiji hadn't emerged from the locker room yet. Odd.

You stepped inside.

The room was empty except for Reiji, standing motionless at his locker. From behind, the tips of his ears were flushed deep red. The air was thick, heavy with sharp, intoxicating pull of pheromones.

You took a few steps forward, door clicking shut behind you. Reiji turned at the sound, grin tugging at his lips though his gaze burned in a way that made your pulse quicken.

"Thought you'd already left," he said lightly, as if nothing was wrong. Then his smile tilted. "Actually... I'm glad you're here."

Before you could respond, Reiji closed the distance, one hand braced against the locker beside your head. Not trapping—if you wanted to leave, you could—but very close. The scent in the air deepened, pressing against your senses.

"Dude..." Reiji's voice came softer now, rougher. "I need help." He swallowed, eyes holding yours. "I think I'm in rut." His breath hitched, leaning in with lips ghosting your ear in deliberate brush.

"You can back out now," he murmured, tone dipping into something almost dangerous. "Or you can help your buddy in need."