“Do you understand the contract terms now, Mr Hagakure?”.
“Please call me Sora, all my friends call me Sora”. He's sniffling. Great start.
“We’re not friends, Mr. Hagakure.” Eiji exhales like a man who’s already regretting every life choice that led him here. Not that he’s made any bad life choices, he even has a good job and steady pay.
People would die to be in his shoes.
But money doesn’t buy fewer regrets—it just upgrades them. His current regret? Not dragging this omega out of the private room the moment he stumbled in drunk that night.
“Then we can be friends now, can’t we?”
Of course, the omega says this like it’s a reasonable business proposal.
Eiji had to question the entire security team and go through all the recorded surveillance feeds to find the omega sniffling in front of him. He finally found him in the restroom, four seconds away from a breakdown— looking like he was going to off himself right there. Right in his favourite cubicle.
Like hell he’d let that happen.
“You seemed to be having breathing trouble earlier. How are you feeling now?” He spent twenty minutes coaxing him out. Twenty minutes. Surely Miyamura hadn’t done anything—
“He jabbed me in the throat with his finger!”
Ah. Of course. Miyamura. The walking HR complaint.
Eiji can feel his blood pressure rising.
Why does that bastard have no self-control? And why does Eiji always have to clean up after him? He never wanted to “hire” this omega. He was against Miyamura’s trickery from the very beginning.
As a beta, he is not in tune with his instincts like alphas and omegas, so he knows how dangerous Miyamura’s newly found interest in this omega is.
If he hadn’t met Miyamura in high school, he’d be somewhere sunny and normal—living his best, stress-free life. Damn it all.
He should have just dropped out of high school.
“We have a medical unit in this building—”
“He jabbed me in the throat!!” Sora’s eyes are huge, panicked and unseeing. “I didn’t even do anything! I didn’t know I signed that stupid contract! You can’t keep me here—I—I—”.
He’s spiraling. Panic attack incoming.
Eiji stands fast, circles the desk, and kneels to meet him eye-level—never looming, never threatening.
He has no desire to frighten the omega any more than he already is.
Damn Miyamura and his petty tricks.
“Hey, hey… shhh. Breathe. Look at me. One, two, three… in and out. Good. Keep going… yeah, that’s it, Sora. You’re doing great.”
The omega follows his rhythm. Slowly, his shaking stills. A deep breath later, he slumps into his seat, rubbing his face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “Haven’t had one of those in a while. I’m… sorry”. The rawness in his voice stings more than it should.
It’s painful to hear.
“You don’t need to apologize for that,” Eiji says softly. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s him. Or Miyamura. Preferably Miyamura.
“Miyamura’s not… a good person.” That’s putting it mildly. “He’s… mean-spirited.” That’s just a polite way of saying that he’s an ancient demon cosplaying as an Alpha.
“He does cruel things because he can. Because being a dominant alpha gives him the pass.” And I’m the poor guy he keeps tied to him under the guise of ‘friendship’. I need a new job.
“Then you can help me.” Sorahiko is looking at him like he’s salvation wrapped in a suit— it makes him feel like garbage.
Because he knows that no one can go against Aronohai Miyamura.
“If you know how he is, then you can talk to him. You can save me, right?” God. Miyamura.
That goddamn asshole.
“The thing is—I can’t.” Eiji stands. He doesn’t want to see that hope die in Sora’s eyes, but it’s too late “He’s a bastard, yes, but he won’t hurt you for fun. Not when it’s just a joke to him.”. He adds to soothe him.
“A… joke?”. It seems like it’s not quite as soothing as he thought.
“Yeah.” Eiji shrugs. “He tricked a mouthy omega into being his secretary. Classic Miyamura. All fun and games.” He’s baiting him. Hook.
Sorahiko gapes at him in shock.
“I—I’m not mouthy! I was drunk!”.
“Then that’s even better, isn’t it?”. Line.
“What do you mean?”. And—sinker.
“I looked through your previous contracts,” Eiji says casually. “You’ve never earned as much as you’ll make here.”
Sora blinks. Eiji blinks back.
‘Good, still with me’, he thinks to himself.
“So—work here. Take the money. Collect the benefits. And if you’re as boring as you claim, Miyamura will get tired of you in three months tops.” He holds up three fingers.
The omega’s eyes widen, finally catching on.
“He’ll fire you, but you’ll walk away with a fat paycheck and Rohai Corporation on your résumé. What do you say?” Eiji flashes him a reassuring smile.
“And all I have to do is work?”. Eiji almost respects him for not falling for it entirely. Almost.
“He won’t be kind,” Eiji warns. “He’s still got the power to ruin you”. And do much worse.
“But he won’t—because this is just a joke to him.”
Sorahiko nods slowly. “He has no reason to really hurt me”. Now they’re on the same page.
“Exactly.” Eiji offers his hand. “Welcome to Rohai Corp, Hagakure Sorahiko.”
They shake hands— two unwilling players of whatever ridiculous game Miyamura is playing.
“As is mine, Mr Yamato”.
“Please call me Eiji”. He refuse to be so formal with such a kindred soul.
Any person that sees past Miyamura’s glamour is a person worth speaking to.
“Only if you call me Sora”.
“Sorahiko”.
“Yamato”.
A smile here, a grin there. And, it's a deal.
⸻
Five minutes after Sorahiko leaves his office, Eiji’s intercom buzzes.
“Badmouthing me with strangers now Eiji?”.
‘If I keep quiet and hold my breath for two minutes, he'd get bored and stop speaking’, Eiji thinks to himself.
“You’re being so mean you know?”.
Maybe he should invest in holy water. Is that possible? Can he do that?.
“Go make other friends”.
Huh?
“That one’s mine”.
Freaking bastard.