Chapter Text
The first rain of April always came without warning. Not a downpour that soaked everything like a gesture of warmth, but a light drizzle that softened the city sky with a silvery gray hue. The leaves of the rain trees by the roadside drooped, wet from the fine spray. The scent of soil slowly rising seeped through the cracks in the window, carrying a fragrance that felt like nostalgia, thought Akihiko Nirei, as he placed his teacup on the edge of the small wooden table in front of the balcony.
The young man sat cross-legged on the floor with a thin blanket over his shoulders, wearing an old knitted sweater that had gone a bit loose at the elbows. His blonde hair, short and messy, fell over his forehead. His dark brown eyes gazed off into the distance at the rooftops of neighboring buildings, now blurred by the misty drizzle.
As usual, the apartment he had been renting for the past two years was quiet. Number seven, second floor, an old building that was almost uninhabited except for a few retirees and a young couple who rarely ever went out. He liked this silence because somehow it helped him focus on writing, helped him reset his thoughts, even helped him heal from bad memories of the past.
Nirei let out a small yawn. He was supposed to finish a manuscript revision today. But his attention was diverted by a loud sound from downstairs—a shout? No, more like...
“HEY! I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH—LIKE THAT—!”
Braaakk!
The shouting was followed by the sound of a bucket falling, then the rough grumble of someone swearing. Nirei instinctively stood up from his chair. Then, hesitated for a moment—but finally gathered the courage to peek through the thin curtain. In the yard below, a man was standing, pointing and yelling at a plumbing repairman. He looked like a character from a manga who had accidentally entered the real world.
His hair was striking—half black, half white, left messy and slightly damp from the drizzle. His build was athletic but not excessive, proportional like a tough teenager used to moving fast. His face was young, almost cute, if not for the expression that always looked ready to start a fight.
But what stood out the most to Nirei, silently observing, were his heterochromatic eyes. One bright blue, the other golden brown, like honey catching the light. Sakura Haruka, Nirei recalled from the list of new tenants. An Alpha.
“Another Alpha,” he muttered softly. He didn’t mean to judge. Just noticing a pattern in how Alphas always stood out in any room they entered. They were usually fiery, and annoying, like Sakura was being now.
But what was surprising was that, after the repairman left while cursing, Sakura stood frozen in place. Not satisfied. Not victorious. Just slightly confused. And maybe—a little embarrassed? Then his eyes lifted, meeting Nirei’s who stood in the doorway of his balcony. Their eyes met.
The blue eye and the brown eye looked straight toward Nirei’s balcony. Nirei quickly gave an awkward smile—reflexively—and immediately closed the curtain. A split second later, his heart was beating too fast.
One day later, at five in the afternoon, the evening sky began to reveal its beauty. When Nirei’s apartment door was knocked on softly twice, he almost didn’t hear it.
Knock. Knock.
Confused, he peeked through the peephole. Another man—tall and slender, wearing loose clothing almost like a modernized version of traditional Chinese attire, black with dark red buttons. His hair was dark brown, straight and neat. One of his eyes—the right one—was covered by a classic-style black eyepatch. On both ears hung long earrings shaped like thin chains with beautiful red pearls. His face showed almost no expression, but his smile felt friendly and calm.
“Excuse me,” he said gently when Nirei opened the door. “I’m the neighbor next door. Suo Hayato.”
“Ah... yeah?” Nirei, from behind the door, didn’t open it all the way. Slightly cautious of the sudden presence of an Alpha.
“Sakura… uh, my unit mate, he overwatered the balcony plants, and I think the water might’ve leaked onto your balcony.” He pointed to the small bucket in his hand. “May I check it for a moment?”
“Oh. Yes—of course, go ahead.” Nirei opened the door fully.
Suo stepped in like the evening mist—calm, making no excessive noise. He seemed alert but not threatening. The one eye that was visible was a dark purple, almost like the surface of an amethyst stone. His gaze was gentle and observant.
“Your balcony is beautiful. Do you care for it yourself?”
“Yes... just a small hobby. I like little plants and birds.”
Suo nodded slightly. “If anything comes up, don’t hesitate to come to us, alright? Sakura is... expressive, but he’s kind-hearted.”
Nirei smiled at that, reminded of moments when he had scolded someone and then felt embarrassed afterward. “Oh, I think I saw that. He seemed... passionate.”
Suo chuckled. Agreeing with Nirei’s choice of words, “That’s a kind word, Nirei-kun.”
That same night, Nirei sat on his balcony. The sound of typing on his laptop filled the night air, occasionally interrupted by heavy sighs as he deleted paragraphs. But there was another sound too—a soft laugh from the unit next door. Like two people talking about something silly but warm. He could imagine Sakura talking nonstop and Suo only replying when necessary. As Nirei laughed to himself while reading his manuscript and listening to Sakura's rambling, he didn’t notice the sound of footsteps moving across the neighboring balcony, approaching the divider.
“Hey.” A deep, somewhat low voice.
Nirei turned, startled, not expecting they’d interact like this. Sakura stood across the balcony railing, still with his half-white, half-black hair slightly messy. His face was, as usual, expressionless. But this time he looked at Nirei intensely—not out of anger. He just seemed curious.
“…what were you laughing at?” he asked bluntly.
Nirei blinked. “Huh?”
Sakura glanced at the laptop in front of Nirei, seeing some text he couldn’t quite make out. “Is that your writing?”
“…yeah. I… I’m a magazine editor, actually. But I sometimes write stories too.”
Sakura went silent for a moment. Then, with a blank face but a genuine tone, he said, “Cool.”
Thump.
“A—ah, thank you…” And Nirei saw it. Sakura quickly turned away, his ears red. He pretended to cough softly, then dragged a chair out from his unit and placed it on the balcony. Nirei didn’t understand what Sakura was doing, but he tried to read the boy with two-toned hair—maybe he just wanted to keep him company for a while.
That night, in the end, they sat in silence. Separate balconies, separate bodies, but the same air. Nirei typed quietly, Sakura played games on his phone, and from a distance, Suo brought tea to the balcony and told Sakura to sit somewhere warmer.
A few days passed. That evening, when Sakura and Suo knocked on the door of unit 7 without many words because Nirei’s water pipe seemed badly leaking, the air in the narrow hallway felt different. They could already tell something was wrong when they saw water flowing from under the door of unit number 7 just as they got home. Then, without hesitation or much thought, they decided to help that Omega.
“I can help,” said Sakura as Nirei opened the door in a panic, his expression tense but not directed at anyone in particular. Without waiting for Nirei to say a word, the young man had already stepped inside his unit.
Behind him, with his slightly taller frame, Suo slipped in with calm movements, carrying a toolbox. “We saw water flowing from under the door. Is it alright if we help?”
Nirei, who had been trying to stop the water with a small towel when his door was knocked on hard, nodded hesitantly. “Uh… yes. Sorry, I’ve… been really panicking.”
When the three of them were inside the cramped bathroom, pheromones began to seep out naturally. Warm vanilla and honeyed milk from Nirei spread more quickly due to his panic and the rising temperature in the room caused by tension. It made Suo unconsciously stare at Nirei’s neck longer than he should have.
Sakura, who was crouched down opening the cabinet beneath the sink, grumbled, “Your scent… it’s too sweet, Nirei,” he muttered, half complaining but not backing away.
“Huh?” Nirei turned in panic.
“He means… the room’s stuffy,” Suo quickly interjected, though his face remained neutral. Still, the scent of sea salt and iced tea began to drift from him, creating an odd sense of calm. Nirei felt more at ease without knowing exactly why.
***
A few days later, it wasn’t clear who had initiated it that day, but the three of them were already sitting together watching a classic silent film. The old sofa in Nirei’s unit was too narrow to fit three people, yet they didn’t seem to mind the cramped space, and as they sat pressed against each other, a faint scent began to rise again.
Nirei sat in the middle, his body half-leaning against a cushion, but his pheromones surfaced again when an emotional scene in the film triggered childhood memories. Soft vanilla and the scent of old paper drifted out like mist under a blanket.
Suo, on the right, had been quiet since the film began and grew even more silent when he caught Nirei’s scent beside him, his nose twitching slightly. He said nothing, only stared at the screen, but his body was closer than usual.
Sakura, sitting on the other side, noticed that his own scent had also started to emerge. Burning wood and black pepper filled the small room like slow-burning embers—especially when he saw Nirei chuckle softly at a funny scene. “How can you laugh at a film like this?” Sakura muttered, slightly mocking, but his eyes were fixed on the smile lines on the Omega’s face.
“It’s funny. Look at the expression in his eyes,” Nirei said, pointing at the screen.
Suo only responded with a nod. But his hand moved gently—adjusting the blanket that had slipped from Nirei’s knees.
Pheromones clashed in the tight space, three distinct scents forming something unfamiliar yet warm. But they hadn’t yet realized how quickly those interactions were causing their bodies to begin reacting instinctively.
***
That day, the sky was overcast, and the air in the small yard between the apartment units was filled with the scent of damp earth. The rain had just stopped, and droplets still trickled slowly from a slightly rusted zinc gutter.
Nirei was sitting alone on a wooden bench near the plant shelf he tended. In his hands, he held a cup of warm ginger tea, and on his lap lay a small notebook filled with handwritten scribbles—his personal journal. His voice was soft, rereading a few lines, before his gaze drifted blankly to the yard, to a pot that had tilted from yesterday’s wind.
The silence was barely disturbed—until the sound of quiet footsteps approached. Suo appeared, wearing a pale beige light jacket and carrying a cup of black coffee in his own hand.
“Your pot’s tilted,” he said softly, placing his cup on the low concrete railing. “If the wind comes from the north again, it might break.”
“Oh... right,” Nirei replied quietly, a little embarrassed for not realizing he’d been watched. “I haven’t had time to fix it this morning.”
Suo didn’t say much more. He stepped forward slowly, knees bending as he crouched in front of the pot—not far from his own balcony—tilting the plant slightly back into place and sliding a small stone under one side to balance it. “There,” he said, without looking at Nirei, though a faint smile tugged at his lips—barely visible.
Nirei opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no right words came. He just nodded, then lowered his gaze to the tea, which had started to lose its steam. And in the cooling air, the faint scent of Suo’s pheromones began to emerge.
Sea salt and freshly brewed black tea. Not an overpowering scent, nor a possessive one. But strong enough to cut into Nirei’s chest—making his breath catch for a moment. He didn’t even realize that his own scent—vanilla and soft honey—was beginning to rise slowly from the skin at the nape of his neck.
Suo went quiet. But his eyes flicked toward Nirei’s breath, now just a bit heavier. “Did you... have a bad dream?” Suo asked suddenly, his voice gentler than usual.
“Huh?” Nirei jumped, flustered. “N-No. Why?”
“Your under-eyes… look darker,” Suo replied simply.
Nirei didn’t know what to say back. But he let out a small, awkward laugh. “Maybe because I stayed up writing. I like to jot down dreams, even if they’re weird.”
Suo nodded, as if storing that information in his mind. “Dreams… sometimes they’re not just dreams, you know.”
“What do you mean?” Nirei furrowed his brows, looking curious at Suo’s words.
“Sometimes dreams are the body’s way of speaking. Especially for an Omega,” Suo said, now looking straight at him. “You’re often quiet, Nirei-kun. But your pheromones… they’re never really silent.”
Thump.
Nirei almost dropped his teacup. “D-Does it bother you...?”
Suo slowly shook his head. “You’re too honest through your scent. But it doesn’t bother me. In fact, smelling it makes me feel calmer.”
There was a long pause between them. The wind blew again, and this time Suo’s pheromones slowly wrapped around them—like the ocean at night, cold but not painful.
“Thank you,” Nirei said at last.
Suo simply nodded, then sat at the edge of the bench Sakura had placed on their balcony for chatting with Nirei. They didn’t say much. But when Nirei’s fingers touched his teacup, and Suo happened to glance over, their eyes met. And for a split second, the silence didn’t feel empty anymore.
And that night, in his journal, Nirei wrote:
“Today I smelled the scent of the sea—not from the ocean itself, but from someone. He sat beside me and didn’t say much, but it felt like I wasn’t alone, even though the sky was very overcast.”
***
That morning, the sun had yet to rise high, and the apartment corridor still felt cold from the leftover night air. Nirei had just finished rolling up his sleeves, a canvas shopping bag hanging from his right arm. He slowly opened the door to his unit, double-checking the small shopping list on his phone: bread, almond milk, green tea, and ginger.
As the door of unit number 7 clicked shut behind him, there was a sharp click from next door. The door of unit number 6 swung open with force—nearly hitting the dividing wall.
Sakura appeared in an oversized black T-shirt and cargo pants, his half-black, half-white hair a mess, as if he’d just fought with his pillow. He carried a large tote bag covered in strange designs, with cables sticking out of his jacket pocket. His steps were quick, his expression firm, his eyes still half-drowsy.
“Oh.”
They both stopped. Sakura’s gaze immediately went to the shopping bag in Nirei’s hand, then to Nirei’s face, then to the row of tiny plants hanging on a rack beside the door. It was strange seeing him look slightly flustered in a face-to-face moment with Nirei.
“Morning,” Nirei greeted uncertainly. He still wasn’t used to talking directly with Sakura, who often looked at him with an intense gaze.
Sakura gave a curt nod. “Morning. Heading to the convenience store?”
“Yeah.” Nirei gave a small smile, gripping his bag a little tighter. “Getting some things for breakfast. You too?”
Sakura huffed softly. “Going to get frozen rice. We ran out of regular rice and Suo forgot to shop yesterday.” It was the longest sentence he’d ever said to Nirei since they met.
“Oh,” Nirei let out a small laugh, “if you’re planning to cook, I actually have rice in my unit?”
Sakura turned quickly. “I didn’t ask for any.”
“N–no, I didn’t mean— I just… well, if you need it…”
Sakura looked away, slightly flushed. “I know.”
They fell into a brief silence, letting the sound of small birds chirping from the far end of the balcony fill the air, along with footsteps from an upstairs neighbor. And in that moment, the morning breeze passed between them—carrying with it the slow rise of Nirei’s pheromones, growing stronger from nervousness: the soft sweetness of vanilla, laced with a hint of honey that only emerged in certain moments.
Sakura blinked, tensing slightly. “Huh… you…,” he narrowed his eyes. “Your scent’s coming out.”
Nirei startled, then reflexively zipped his jacket up to cover his neck. “Sorry! I… I forgot to spray neutralizer this morning.”
Sakura quickly looked away and stared at the floor. But the tip of his nose had gone a little red. He adjusted the strap of his bag quickly. “It doesn’t bother me. Just… kind of hits suddenly and smells really sweet,” he murmured, almost inaudibly. “Like a milk candy.”
“That’s… not a compliment, is it?” Nirei asked quietly, brow furrowing in confusion. He wasn’t sure if Sakura’s words were meant to be praise or an insult.
“Not an insult either,” Sakura replied quickly, as if he knew exactly what Nirei was thinking.
There was another pause between them, but thankfully not as tense as before. Then Nirei, with a careful voice, asked, “Would you… like to go together?”
Sakura looked at him, slightly confused. “Together where? The store?”
“Yeah. If… you don’t mind?”
Sakura went quiet. His expression was hard to read, like he was weighing the potential risks of walking together—or maybe just trying to hide his own nervousness.
“…Whatever.” Which, in Sakura’s language, meant “yes.” And somehow Nirei understood that instantly and smiled with quiet delight.
They headed down the stairs together. Not side by side—Sakura was half a step ahead, with Nirei behind him. But once they reached the sidewalk and crossed the street toward the shop across the way, their steps finally fell into rhythm.
At the convenience store, small things happened—things that only someone truly observant would notice. Sakura looked incredibly serious while choosing a sauce. Nirei watched from the side, trying to hold back laughter because the Alpha’s focused expression looked like he was selecting a weapon for battle.
“I usually go with this one,” Nirei said eventually, after they had been standing in front of the same shelf for five minutes, pointing to a bottle of spicy sauce from a local brand.
Sakura slowly turned toward him. “…Can you even handle spicy food?”
“Not really.” Nirei gave a small smile. “But it tastes better when it hurts a little.” He looked at Sakura, now smiling so wide his teeth showed.
Sakura stared at him for a moment, then raised an eyebrow. “…You’re weirder than I thought.”
For some reason, that made Nirei laugh softly. Sakura’s pheromones suddenly began to seep out—like hot charcoal and burned shrubs after a rain, a scent that didn’t usually appear when he was comfortable. But this time it came in a faint wave, mixed with something that felt protective. A sweet kind of alertness. Like a guard dog that wasn’t barking, but had its ears up, watching.
Nirei sensed it, even if only faintly. And somehow, it made him feel safe. “If you cook often, I could help with the dishes,” Nirei said after the cashier finished bagging their groceries.
“Who said I wanted to cook for you?” Sakura replied flatly.
“…Oh. Sorry.” Nirei’s face turned red with embarrassment. The closeness from a few minutes ago had made him a bit too hopeful, assuming Sakura wanted to cook for him. He suddenly felt guilty.
Sakura huffed. But then he added—almost like a mutter, “...But if you like that kind of tongue-burning spice, maybe I can cook something spicy for you sometime.”
Nirei stopped walking for a moment and looked at Sakura, whose ears were already red. “…That… kind of sounds like a promise?”
Sakura looked straight ahead, walking quickly. “It’s not. Don’t get cocky.”
But Nirei smiled softly. And without them realizing, their two pheromone scents had started to intertwine—calm honey-vanilla and warm burnt brushwood—blending into an ordinary morning that no longer felt ordinary.
***
At the end of that week, as Nirei was jotting something down in his small journal—about the sparrows returning to their nest that evening, and about two strange Alphas who had begun to make the silence in his apartment feel colorful—he paused mid-sentence.
The tip of his pen rested on the paper, and he turned toward the window, where Suo and Sakura were visible, assembling a new hanger for Nirei’s plant pots.
And somehow, even faintly, the scent of their contrasting pheromones was beginning to smell like home.
Nighttime, Unit Number 6
The main light in Unit 6 was only partially on—just enough to illuminate the dining table and the couch, where two Alphas were lost in their own thoughts. The ceiling fan spun slowly, its gentle breeze keeping the night calm.
Sakura sat on a wooden chair facing the window. His knees were pulled up, chin resting on them. He wore a faded gray hoodie and shorts, his hair as messy as usual, with strands sticking out in unruly directions. In his right hand, a can of cold soda was starting to gather condensation.
On the other side, Suo sat cross-legged on the carpet reading. His white shirt was loose, sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He held a small, dark-covered book, but the page he was on hadn’t turned in several minutes.
The silence between them was comfortable. But also waiting—for something to be said.
Sakura spoke first. His voice was hoarse but calm. “You smell it too, right?”
Suo gently closed his book, his eyes shifting to Sakura, who was still staring toward the balcony. The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional sounds of distant traffic.
“Nirei’s pheromones?”
“Mm.” Sakura took a sip from his drink. “It’s so sweet and invasive. But strangely, I don’t feel bothered when I’m around him.”
“More than not bothered,” Suo said, his gaze moving to the window. “It feels like something is tying me to him.”
Sakura scoffed. “I’ve never believed that something like pheromones could actually ‘bind’ people. That’s just a cliché concept—bonding, soulmates—half the people who talk about it don’t even feel it. I could be stuck with someone like you, an annoying Alpha, and life still goes on just fine, doesn’t it?”
Suo didn’t answer right away. He watched the shadows of streetlights dancing along the walls of their apartment. Only after a while did he speak, his voice low. “But both of us reacted almost the same way when we smelled his pheromones. It’s different from when I smell yours, or when you smell mine—am I right?”
Sakura clenched his teeth, annoyed whenever Suo said something that turned out to be true. “You become so calm when you're near him. What’s with that? You’re usually harder to read.”
Suo gave a faint smile. “And you’re rougher than usual when you're alone with Nirei-kun. A bit more reactive.”
Sakura looked away, but Suo could clearly see the flush of red creeping up his face. “That’s because you are too calm.”
“And you are too honest, Sakura-kun.”
Sakura let out a long sigh and placed his can on the table. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Nirei’s too gentle. He feels like a scented letter—something delicate. I get scared... like if he touches something dirty, he’ll get stained. Or if someone grips him too tightly, he’ll tear.”
His voice was quiet. Not angry, not frustrated—more like fear quietly spreading through him.
Suo nodded slowly, a sign of agreement. “He looks fragile. But maybe that’s why he lives so carefully. And us, as Alphas... we’re too big. Too rough for him.”
“You feel the same fear as I do?” This time Sakura turned to look at him, eyes searching. They’d known each other a long time—it wasn’t surprising that their feelings often mirrored one another. Sakura and Suo rarely needed to say what they felt because, deep down, they always knew.
Suo answered after a brief silence. “I wonder how far we can step into his world without breaking it.”
Sakura kept his eyes on Suo. “You want to step in?”
Suo returned his gaze, his smile faint, eyes soft but clear. “I already have, I think.”
Sakura clicked his tongue, looked down, and ruffled his own hair. “...Yeah, damn it. Me too.”
They went quiet again. But this time, the air wasn’t heavy.
Sakura continued, his tone softer. “You know... this morning when he offered us rice, I almost said ‘yes’ just so he’d come inside our unit.”
Suo raised an eyebrow. “That’s rather manipulative coming from you, Sakura-kun.”
"I'm not manipulative like you, Suo. I just can't say things directly. Unlike you, who can smile with that fake cool style," Sakura said with a hint of emotion, which made Suo chuckle softly before he stood up. He closed his book and placed it on the table.
"I'm glad he's our neighbor," he said as he walked toward the small kitchen.
Sakura looked at Suo’s back, then turned his gaze once again to the balcony in front of him. “Me too. But if he gets hurt because of us…”
Suo interrupted softly from the kitchen, his voice calm yet firm. “Then we learn. So that these feelings won’t hurt him, but become a place he can come home to.”
Sakura stayed silent for a long moment, gripping the empty can in his hand. Then he smiled—awkwardly, but with understanding. “...Damn. You really did fall for him.”
“Side effect of reading too much poetry,” Suo replied from the kitchen with a soft laugh.
The living room light finally went off. But in the darkness of Unit 6, the two very different Alphas quietly carried the same name in their minds. And that night, they fell asleep with one simple thought:
How do we stay close… without making Nirei afraid.