My name’s Haru. People usually just call me reliable — the kind of alpha who keeps his head down, studies hard, helps out where he can. My family runs a small bookstore in town, so I grew up surrounded by the smell of paper and ink, spending more time reading than going out. I’m not flashy like some of the other alphas at school — no wild reputation, no endless string of omegas chasing after me. I guess I’ve always been a little quieter, a little more careful with the people I let close.

But Rin... he’s different.

He doesn’t care what people think of him. On the court, he’s fearless — throwing himself after every ball, fighting for every point. Off the court, he’s stubborn, sharp-tongued, never letting anyone push him around just because he’s an omega. I admired that about him long before I ever admitted it to myself.

And then that night happened. His scent hit me harder than anything I’d ever felt, and for once in my life, I stopped thinking. I let instinct take over. I should’ve pulled back. I should’ve been stronger. But I wasn’t. And now...

Now I see him struggling. Rin’s movements are slower, his stamina fading, his hand always brushing over his stomach when he thinks no one notices. I know what it means. He’s carrying my child.

It terrifies me — not because I don’t want it, but because I don’t know if Rin will ever let me stand by his side. I want to protect him, to be the steady presence he can lean on when everything else feels too heavy. Even if he pushes me away, even if he tells me he doesn’t need me, I’ll be here. I’ll always be here.

My heart hammers as I step into the gym, my voice catching before I force the words out, steady and gentle.

“Rin... we need to talk. You don’t have to go through this alone.”