Chapter Ten: Omega
"A-Andrea?" Lucas pressed himself against the thick trunk of a tree and tried not to shiver. Temperatures were supposed to drop below the twenties at the end of the month but it appeared the frosty weather arrived early that year. He felt close to hypothermic, but knew he had to make a call (or two) before changing.
"Lucas? What is it?" Andrea's low voice buzzed through the shattered phone fuzzily. Lucas tucked his knees to his chest and wrapped an arm around them.
"T-They have S-Sam." His teeth chattered painfully, clanging together enough that Andrea could probably hear it from the other end.
"What?! How?!"
"H-Hunter's Association kid was with them. Yui's brother."
"Shit." A pause. "Okay, where are you?" She sounded concerned, in an indifferent sort of way. Lucas worked his fingers against his palm to keep them from getting too numb.
"Near K-Kirinoyama." Lucas looked around. "I t-think I hear a c-creek."
"There's a phone near Kirinoyama?"
"N-no. One of the n-new pack t-threw it at me." Lucas curled in on himself completely, tucking the phone in between his knees facing inward so he could put his forehead against his knees and breathe heat onto his stomach and thighs. "Should I k-keep it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, good going. Okay, I'm gonna come get you now, alright? Stay where you are…transform, but if you see a Hunter run as fast as you can, 'kay? We can track scents; they can't. You'll be safe."
"T-thanks, Andrea…" Lucas sniffed. "G-god, I can't believe they have Sam…" He began shaking again, not because of the cold.
"They won't hurt him." Andrea promised. "I swear, okay? They can't. International Law of the Hunter's Association means that they can't lay a finger on him."
"That d-didn't stop him from k-killing Andrew." Lucas pointed out wearily. There was no answer to that. Instead, he decided it was time to either transform or freeze to death. He dropped the phone and arched his back into the transformation, heat pounding in his veins when he did so. Like a surge of energy he burst onto his feet and shook out his fur, happy to be rid of his human form.
He nudged the phone with his nose and wondered what exactly Andrea wanted him to keep it for. The screen was so cracked that pieces of glass were literally falling out of it, and the metal on the sides was bent in a shape that suggested someone squeezed it a little too hard.
Honestly, he didn't care what they used it for. He just wanted Sam back.
The Next Day…
Midorima looked around as he walked to school. In his mind he debated whether he would spend the night at his parents house or at Aomine and Momoi's, but in the end there was no real decision to make. He didn't want to put his parents at risk and until he was fully able to control the transformation he would not endanger them by remaining in their presence.
He looked up and saw Miyaji sandwiched between Kimura and Ootsubo. Both were chatting pleasantly—probably about the rumors of early snow—while Miyaji seemed…unsure. It was rare to see him in such a state, weird, almost. He appeared caught between leaning into his friends (quite literally) for support, and shunning away from them.
Takao had yet to make an appearance. It was the general consensus that they would refrain from using the rickshaw and other activities that included close contact until Midorima was confident Takao could control his new 'spirit powers of the beyond'. Of course this wouldn't pertain to basketball, but other than that contact between the three would be kept at a minimum.
Even so, Midorima missed the shorter raven-haired teen. He rubbed his lucky item—a heat-changing flashlight—with his thumb and watched the color turn from green to orange.
It was then that the feeling hit him: heat. Not a pleasant or even erotic heat, a painful one like his skin was on fire. Dark red swipes of color began to coat his vision as it blurred. He looked up at his senpai but apparently the other wasn't feeling the same. Midorima staggered in his pace, fear spiking. If he transformed there the effects could be detrimental…
He ran past the gates, past the tennis courts, past the building complex near the school. He ran until he was in an empty neighborhood and no one was in sight. Still unable to rid himself of the heat that threatened to block out his vision, he stumbled into the cement wall of the nearby road and slid against it to the ground. White noise filled his ears. Midorima grabbed his head and put it between his knees, blinking violently when his vision clouded, the frost in the ground freezing the skin beneath his pants.
It wouldn't go away, wouldn't cease, when suddenly there was a cold hand pressing against the back of his neck. A rush of cool water felt like it was blowing over him and he shivered as the pain subsided. The throbbing heat dissipated, lingering in his stomach before vanishing completely.
"Midorima-san." Izuki's dry, alto voice rang through crystal-clear. He sounded worried. "I need you to remain calm. How long have you been here?"
"I don't know." Midorima rasped. His throat ached like he was parched. "Why are you here?"
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" Izuki asked, and his feet scuffled the ground loudly as he kneeled. Midorima looked up, vision clearing enough that he could be sure of his surroundings.
Nothing was recognizable: not the streets nor the houses nor the signs. He was in a completely unidentifiable area that he had most certainly never been in before.
"Where am I?" He asked, finding his throat almost too dry to swallow. His eyes met Izuki's and he took the other's form in. Izuki had circles under his eyes and his skin was paler than it usually was. The hand, which wad felt cold and refreshing at first, felt clammy now. There were cuts and scrapes lingering up his arms and shoulders and a nasty, jagged scab on his jaw. "What happened?"
"I'm fine, it's you we should worry about." Izuki said. "Do you know how you got here? This isn't anywhere close to your school…" He put his hands back on Midorima's neck and a dim blue light emitted from them, sending alleviation through Midorima's spine and slowing his heartbeat to a normal rate.
"Ran." Midorima wheezed quietly, and Izuki frowned. He glanced around them before helping the werewolf to his feet, hooking an arm around Midorima's shoulders to keep him upright. Both their legs quivered under the weight.
"I think I might know what's happening, but first let's get you somewhere where we can sit down." Izuki walked Midorima down the street and they reached a patch of forest. "It's the beginning of a garden. There's a shrine somewhere inside where we can rest; it'll do for now."
"Why are you helping me?" Midorima asked, feeling foolish. Izuki wasn't indebted to him in any way and although he was good friends with Takao he'd only spoken to Midorima once or twice. It wasn't that Midorima didn't appreciate the help—he truly did—but it confused him that Izuki would aid a complete and total stranger.
Izuki sniffed a little as they made their way into the garden, wiping his sleeve against his reddening nose. "I don't need a reason to help you." He spoke quietly as they stumbled over a little bridge. The chilled water of a thin river laced and curled around itself beneath their feet. Droplets of water began to fall from the sky and Izuki sighed softly before quickening their pace. "You needed help, isn't that reason enough?"
The shrine finally came into view: a stone one with moss overtaking it. Izuki waved his hand and some sort of semi-transparent barrier formed around it. He muttered something quiet under his breath, a prayer of sorts, and didn't wait to take cover underneath the shrine. Midorima hesitated, fearing disrespect for whosever shrine it was, but Izuki just smiled and motioned him over with a tilt of the head.
Midorima sat down next to Izuki on the moss-covered floor of the shrine and put his arms around his knees. Next to Izuki he felt inadequate, though he wasn't sure why. Izuki seemed so mystical and fantastical, with his glowing white skin, black hair, and calm ash eyes. Midorima felt out of place and aloof in comparison, what with his bright green features.
"You said you knew what's happening to me?" Midorima broke the silence as the rain turned from a drizzle to a downpour, thundering against the shrine loudly.
"It's only a theory," Izuki admitted, leaning back on his hands. "I couldn't help but notice before I left the…dynamics between you and Miyaji-san."
"Senpai and I?"
"Well, your age and previous relationship would usually mean that he is the Alpha between you. Your situation is special because you were the one to bite him, but it remains that you will inevitably struggle with the way things are now, and the way you interacted then. It's a tough change." Izuki's eyes were far away as he spoke, watching something that no one else could see.
"Should I be the Alpha?" It hurt to ask, for some reason. A lump formed in Midorima's throat, thick and painful. He didn't feel being an Alpha was strange for him, but it was also odd to become so possessive and protective of Miyaji who had made it very clear that it was unneeded. Midorima just wanted things to be the way they used to, when the biggest worries he had were about basketball and tests.
"There's no real answer to that question." Izuki replied. He put a reassuring hand on Midorima's shoulder and pushed until they faced each other. "But if you want my opinion: yes. You and Miyaji-san would both be adequate, thats unquestionable and actually quite common between Betas and Alphas. I think the reason you struggle is because everything is new right now and you need time to adjust. Your pack stability is weak and I think everything will settle in once you and Miyaji-san have time to understand your new relationship."
"But would Miyaji-senpai be a better Alpha?" Midorima rephrased his question.
"Again, that's up for debate." Izuki repeated. "I really wish I could give you a straight 'yes or no' but that doesn't exist in this situation. If you want my advice, keep being the Alpha. I'm not a werewolf or pack expert, but I think any dynamic changes this early could really complicate things later on. It might not be this simple, but stay as you are. If it doesn't work later, then you can cross that bridge when you get to it. The pain—or whatever you're feeling right now—will probably go away once you sort everything out. Unfortunately, the only medicine for it at this point is time."
"I see…" He turned and, for the first time, felt a deep respect for Izuki. It wasn't as though he didn't respect him to begin with, Midorima just never had time to get to know him. But he got the impression that there were a lot of things to be learned from Izuki. "Thank you, Izuki-senpai."
Izuki smiled. "You're welcome, Midorima-san." He stood up. "I hope you don't mind, but I have to get going now. But," his gaze sharpened sternly, "Call me whenever you need to, alright? And tell the others the same."
Midorima chuckled awkwardly. "Yes. I'm sorry for keeping you."
"Oh, don't worry about it." Izuki waved him off. His wrist seemed bruised but Midorima didn't mention it. He didn't want to be rude or overbearing. "I'll talk to you later. Contact me if you have trouble getting home."
"Mm." Midorima watched Izuki's back as the other walked away, resting his head on his hand and sighing. When Izuki left the heat returned ever-so-slightly, ruining his focus and making his head pound with a dull thud.
Everything felt so confusing. On one hand, he definitely liked the idea of Miyaji being alpha: he was strong, reliable, and older. But on the other…instinct was pushing Midorima to maintain his position. He liked being able to protect other people and have them look to him for help. He liked being important, needed, and while he knew he would be with or without staying an alpha, it wouldn't be the same.
A twig nearby snapped and Midorima's head whipped towards the noise. "Izuki-senpai?" He called, though inside he knew that the 'magic-user' was long gone. He stood up and his head pounded harshly, sending him crasing to his knees. Mud kicked up from the ground upon impact, splattering his face and glasses. More movement filled his ears and he quickly pulled off his glasses and began to wipe them of mud, unable to make out the fuzzy images around him.
Rough hands grabbed him by the clavicle and threw him to his feet. He stumbled for a single panic-stricken moment and began to fall back to his knees when a leg connected with his back. Instead of simply dropping to the ground the force of the kick threw him forward several feet. Rain pounded against Midorima's body as the heat inhibited him from fighting back against his unseen enemy and his palms scraped around the muddy moss ground for his glasses, which he dropped in the foray.
Hands grabbed him by the junction of his shoulders and neck and pressed down hard enough that Midorima felt something snap. "This is for Sam." A girl's low, angry voice hissed in his ear. Then everything faded to black.