Chapter Text
The lecture hall was suffocatingly hot. Taki sat in the very back row, his knees pressed against his chest as he tried to blend into the shadows. He had barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he either smelled crushed mint or envisioned the twisted metal of his dad's car accident. To make matters worse, his morning sickness had officially kicked in, leaving him lightheaded and clutching a cold bottle of water like a lifeline.
At the front of the room, Professor Sato clapped his hands together, his voice booming over the chatter of the students.
"Alright, settle down. For the mid-term marketing campaign, I have already pre-assigned your partners based on your academic tracking. No exceptions, no switches."
A collective groan echoed through the room. Taki didn't mind. As long as he got someone quiet who wouldn't notice how much water he drank or how often he had to breathe through his nose to fight off nausea, he would be fine.
"Wang Yixiang and Byun Euijoo," the professor called out.
Across the room, Taki saw Euijoo offer a subtle, relieved smile to Nicholas, who merely smirked, leaning back in his chair with an air of absolute confidence. Because everyone at school knew they were together, nobody blinked twice at the pairing—though Taki knew they'd have to be careful not to let any gossip slip back to the Wang estate.
"And finally," Professor Sato flipped a page on his clipboard. "Hirota Riki and Takayama Taki."
Taki’s heart stopped. The static buzz of his post-trauma epilepsy flared in his ears for a terrifying second, sparked by pure panic. No. Anyone else. Please, anyone else.
Across the lecture hall, Maki froze. His head snapped toward the back row, his dark eyes locking onto Taki with a look of pure, unadulterated fury. The alpha’s scent—usually a controlled, crisp note of crushed mint and smoky vetiver—suddenly spiked, turning aggressive and sharp enough to make the omegas in the front row shift uncomfortably.
"Professor," Maki’s voice cut through the room like a razor. "I request a different partner. I work better alone."
"The syllabus is locked, Mr. Hirota," the professor replied, not even looking up from his papers. "Even the Hirota family has to follow the curriculum. Sit with your partner and begin brainstorming."
The silence that followed was heavy. Maki pushed his chair back with a harsh scrape, grabbing his expensive leather bag. Every eye in the room followed him as he marched up the stairs of the lecture hall, straight toward the back row. He shoved his way into the row and slammed his notebook down onto the desk next to Taki.
"Don't flatter yourself," Maki hissed under his breath, his voice laced with venom as he sat down, keeping as much physical distance between them as the small desk allowed. "I'm doing this for my grade. You will do exactly what I tell you to do, and we won't speak outside of this project. Understood?"
Taki swallowed hard, his throat dry. Up close, Maki's alpha presence was overwhelming. His maternal omega instincts wanted nothing more than to curl up against Maki's side, to seek comfort from the alpha who had saved his life and fathered the tiny spark in his womb. But the reality of Maki's coldness slammed into him like a wall.
"I... I understand," Taki whispered, keeping his eyes glued to his own tattered notebook.
"Good. Here's the data for the Hirota luxury line. We'll use it as our case study," Maki said, sliding a tablet across the desk.
But as the tablet slid forward, a sudden draft from the lecture hall's ancient ventilation system blew across Taki, carrying his scent straight toward Maki. Because of the pregnancy, Taki's scent was beginning to change—the bright yuzu and wildflowers were turning deeper, sweeter, and distinctly maternal.
Maki stopped mid-sentence. His nostrils flared, his dark eyes narrowing as he took a sharp breath of the air between them. A look of profound confusion flashed across his handsome face, followed closely by an intense, possessive flare in his eyes that he quickly tried to mask.
"What is that?" Maki demanded, his tone dropping into a dangerous growl. "What are you wearing?"
"What?" Taki panicked, pulling his oversized hoodie tighter around his frame.
"Your scent," Maki said, leaning a fraction closer, his eyes tracking the pulse point on Taki's neck. "It smells... different. It's distracting. Stop using whatever cheap perfume you're wearing to get my attention."
Before Taki could defend himself, a violent wave of morning sickness hit him like a freight train. His stomach churned aggressively. He slammed his notebook shut, clamped a hand over his mouth, and stumbled out of his seat, knocking his chair to the floor.
"Takayama?" Maki called out, his voice laced with sudden, unexpected alarm.
Taki didn't look back. He sprinted down the stairs of the lecture hall and burst through the double doors, desperately searching for the nearest restroom before his secret spilled over for the whole world to see.