Untitled Part 44
Chapter Forty Four: Intelligent Rage
Daichi~
After keeping a watchful eye on Suga the entire day, from an uncomfortable distance, Daichi had followed the boy to the library in the evening. The campus was mostly quiet for a Thursday, something which he was eternally grateful for. With less people around, there was a smaller chance of Suga falling into some unknown danger.
He felt immensely guilty about trailing his former Omega, but his desire to keep the silver boy safe all but stifled his logical mind. There was no ulterior motive for his sneaking around the brick building that housed the silver boy within. He wasn't doing it in a creepy, stalking sort of way. He wasn't doing it as a means to get the Omega back in his good graces. It was purely done to satiate a strained desire that commanded he keep Suga within his sights. Nothing more.
It had been two days. Two days since he had last scented the Omega. Two days since the breakup. Daichi was certain that he was going absolutely mad. His first day as a single Alpha had been a tragic mess of raw emotion. His stomach knotted in waves of nausea and his heart-- oh, his heart! It maintained a deep, vengeful ache that pooled into his nearby lungs, leaving him with ragged breaths of air for the entire day. His emotions were turbulent and deeply mournful-- not that he could really sort through them in the first place. They were braided together so intricately that he couldn't even tell the difference between joy and upset anymore. Not even the ever-present fear for Suga's safety held the power to make him leave his quiet room. Instead, he remained in bed, smelling the small tones of the Omega's lingering scent in his sheets. The fragrance helped to keep him sane and he was careful to not inhale too much-- fearing the inevitable...that the sweet smell would run out.
And then it did.
Without the lingering scent of his Omega on his sheets, Daichi's emotions somehow evolved into something much worse. He woke up and found his bereaved melancholy gone-- replaced with a troubled desperation for the familiar sweet fragrance. His body and mind were absolutely starved of it-- mouth dry and lips cracked. He felt lost in the driest of deserts, praying for water that would never come.
He left the room Wednesday morning with the sole intention of inhaling the silver Omega-- to get the fix he so badly needed. When Suga's scent whirled into his nostrils, lingering remnants from inside the paint room, Daichi's mind was pushed to the brink of sanity. The fragrance was different. Very different. It no longer held the playful, affectionate overtures that he had grown so accustomed to in the last month. While it was still sweet, it was more dull and lifeless than he remembered-- not that he had much to go on anymore.
All he had left were fading memories.
Thursday morning, Daichi had opened his dark eyes feeling more aware than he had in the previous forty eight hours. He no longer felt like he was going through motions from behind an emotional fog. Instead, his instincts were finally awake and rearing inside his mind-- commanding him to find and protect the Omega that was no longer his.
He had cursed and thrown a large fist into his mattress at their not-so-subtle request. He had sworn that he would not trail Suga if the boy was no longer expressly his to protect, but his instincts seemed to have a way of bypassing his logical mind. For the first half of the day, he unwittingly trailed Suga by way of scent, but he quickly found himself unable to continue-- opting to use sight to follow the boy instead. The lifeless, grey fragrance made him want to vomit. Not from the smell, per say, but from the feeling it invoked inside of his waking soul.
For the first time in three days, he could finally put a finger on a specific emotion in the chaos of his own mind. He realized that something deep inside of him was missing. It wasn't an entire half of his being, but rather a small, distinct part that nothing else could ever fill-- as if he had lost a single fragment of the thousand piece puzzle that was his soul.
At that recent memory, a now familiar pang erupted inside of Daichi's chest, pulsing through his tired limbs. He shook his head and grimaced with a renewed need to vomit. Lurching his head up, he glanced through a clear window of the library and fixed his sights on Suga, praying that it would stabilize the dull ache in his chest. The silver boy blew a stray hair from his pale face, then flipped over a page of a large, leather bound book. After a few minutes, he sighed and planted his forehead on the oaken desk in front of him in defeat.
Daichi snickered at the classic case of exasperation, but his smile quickly dissipated. Once upon a time, he was a happy companion for Suga during his studies. Once upon a time, he was seated next to the Omega, smelling the boy as he eagerly flipped through textbooks. Daichi subconsciously sniffed the air, reliving a past memory of them together, but the mental image soon flickered-- leaving him to smell nothing but clean, night air. He swayed on his feet and grimaced again.
What did Suga smell like, again? What did he smell like before? Baked...goods?
As the questions poured out of his brain, his heart twisted into a shriveled ball of terror. He searched the archives of his mind for memories of Suga's fragrance, growing more panicked with each passing minute he couldn't find one. Frantic and absorbed in his quest, he barely noticed the silver boy saunter down the library steps.
He sucked in a break, shelved his quest for later, and reigned in his scent. Then, he ducked behind a potted cherry blossom tree-- out of sight on the cobblestone near the side of the library. Even from the small distance, only ten meters away, he couldn't smell Suga's fragrance. Not that it mattered anymore. The literal scent wasn't enticing, it was guilt inducing, and it's only goal seemed to be to fill him with a terrible heartache at his loss.
Whatever bond they once shared, was certainly broken now.
After Daichi was confident that Suga would not detect him, he quietly shuffled out from behind dark leaves and began a slow, methodical walk behind the Omega. He admired the way Suga's lithe body swayed with each step and even smiled under his breath when the boy paused to search his leather satchel-- ensuring that he hadn't left anything behind.
Intelligent people...always so scatterbrained.
When at long last Suga rounded the corner to the cul de sac that housed their familiar yellow house, Daichi's heart sank. Being forced into such a claustrophobic area alongside his exomega was excruciating. The small confines always did nothing but flood him with unchecked rage-- a vengeful frustration with his unwanted circumstances. Circumstances that he had no control over.
Did Suga even care? If he did, Daichi couldn't tell. The boy's scent had become too polluted to his nostrils-- he could hardly ascertain any emotion from it at all.
He felt another familiar pang of grief when he watched the Omega sniff the air inside the house through the living room window-- he implicitly knew that the boy was looking for a sign of his presence. He wasn't sure if Suga was pleased or upset at his absence, but he prayed for the latter. It was easier than thinking that he had already moved on.
Daichi remained outside, feeling the humid early autumn air blow across his skin-- unable to bring himself to take even one step towards the yellow building. Ten minutes went with him watching Suga flip through a textbook at the dining table-- probably Latin literature. After thirty minutes, the Omega disappeared and the light of the nest room was flicked on. An hour passed and room was once again shrouded in darkness. Suga had gone to sleep.
He sighed and sluggishly made his way towards the house, but quickly stalled in place as a familiar cacophony of voices filled the quiet night around him-- drowning out evening cicadas. Before him, his housemates made their way across the yard in a flurry of loud, playful banter. Some were paired up with their Omegas-- a tragic sight that all but ripped Daichi's soul from his body. He was Jealous of his teammates, but he was more embarrassed than anything else. Embarrassed that he had failed. He had wisely avoided everyone over the past three days. He didn't want their sympathetic eyes. He didn't want their comforting words. He didn't want their advice. He knew that there was none to give. Suga had shoved him out of his life, and there was nothing that anyone could say to remedy that fact.
As the boys slowly clamored into the house, Dachi's eyes darted to Bokuto-- holding a familiar bag with...volleyballs.
Why was the owl dragging around a sac of them? He glanced down at his watch, nearly 9:00pm. Had they...did they...rent out a gym? Did they...play volleyball?
At that recognition, his rage nearly tripled. He didn't care that they left him out of their plans. In fact, he was certain that they had smartly left him out for a very specific reason-- he would never have allowed them to play with their injuries.
Really, he thought to himself with gnashed teeth, did they really need someone to tell them that it was unwise to do physical activity with broken bones?!
As the remaining members pushed into the oak door, he started a brisk walk towards them. Hiking up the veranda stairs, steps booming out on the wood boards, his throat began to grumble with hot rage. He knew that it was somewhat unwise to chew out his housemates in his current state-- residual anger from his recent breakup was going to make him much more hostile than necessary. For a brief moment, with a large hand on the copper handle, he contemplated dropping the entire thing.
No. If he didn't say anything now, then the idiots would never learn to take better care of themselves. He jerked the handle and pushed the door open, accidentally hitting Hajime with the edge of the wood.
"Hey-" The snarky Alpha started in protest, but he clamped his mouth shut when he smelled Daichi's enraged scent. "Daichi, man. Are you oka-"
"Are you...are you guys kidding me?" Daichi interrupted, his face flabbergasted. "Who the hell thought it was a good idea to..." He paused as Oikawa's figure flashed in the corner of his vision-- likely trying to make a clean getaway before the lecture. "OIKAWA. Don't take another goddamm step."
The chestnut Omega froze and slowly turned on his heels with an audible eep. "Look, Daichi. I really didn't do much. Just a bit of practice hits-"
"You are coming off of a concussion. And broken ribs!" Daichi barked out, cutting Oikawa's explanation short with a raised finger.
For a moment, the chestnut boy remained shamefully silent before opening his mouth again in protest. "Omegas heal-"
"I don't give a fuck if Omegas heal faster than Alphas! Christ, Oikawa. What is wrong with you?!" He growled deep in his throat, then turned to face the other housemates-- stalled in the entryway with sheepish looks plastered on their faces. "And I swear to god, Tsukishima. If you played with your fucking broken fingers I am going to lose my fucking mind!"
Tsukishima let out a quiet laugh and gave Daichi a fake smile that was one part innocent, two parts nervous. "I didn't play. Just coached from the sidelines," he said, jiggling splintered fingers out in front of his lean body. "Scouts honour, captain."
"Oh really?" Daichi sarcastically remarked as he crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes darting between the blonde Alpha and the freckled boy at his side. "Coaching your omega then? The one who has a broken arm? I thought you had more of a brain than that, Tsukishima."
Tsukishima tensed, but Daichi couldn't tell exactly which part of his declaration made the boy react. He had called the blonde Alpha stupid, alleged that he put Yamaguchi in harm's way, and openly voiced the freckled boy as his Omega. Not that Daichi really cared to know the answer-- the boy deserved every word of it.
When Tsukishima sucked in a harsh breath, Yamaguchi pleaded softly with beseeching eyes. "My serving arm is fine! I just had someone toss the ball up for me...I didn't use my broken arm at all...I swear..."
"Yeah, sheesh, captain," Bokuto inserted himself into the conversation, shuffling uncomfortably from foot to foot under Daichi's narrowed gaze. "Don't you think you're laying it on a little thick here? I mean...we were just having a bit of fun!"
A bit of fun? A bit of fun?!
"Have you lost your damn mind!?" Daichi snarled and the astonished owl took a wobbly step back. "Your nose is broken! It had to be fucking set! What do you think would happen if it got hit by a stray volleyball?! Weeks more recovery and a lot of extra fucking pain, that's what! Oh, and I'm sorry, but you see those splints on your hand? I bet you didn't just coach with those broken fingers."
Bokuto flushed and averted his yellow gaze to the hardwood, granting Daichi with the answer he already knew. "But my nose didn't get hit...it's fine...it's not a big deal."
"That's not the point!" Daichi snapped, then caught a glimpse of Tobio's damaged arm in the corner of his eye.
Oh hell no.
He slowly raked his gaze over the setter, huffing and puffing with instinctual anger. Tobio stiffened and the colour drained from his face-- scared of the storm of a lecture he was about to receive.
"Did. You. Play. With. That. Arm." Daichi snarled in a slow, low tone that sent visible shivers through the group.
Tobio's dark eyes widened and he quickly nodded his truthful answer-- knowing a lie would only make things worse for him.
Daichi willfully let a tense silence fill room and he slowly raked his gaze down the line of housemates before him. God dammit, he thought with a shake of his head, they were so stupid! So fucking stupid! Did any of them know how to think things through?!
Asahi stepped forward, his lips twisting as he searched his brain for the right words. "We didn't mean any harm by it, Daichi. I don't think it was-"
"Be quiet," Daichi barked, happy for a continued outlet for his rage. "Go check on your stitches. If they opened, I'm calling Ukai and he can give you a lecture," he paused to look at the other boys in front of him. "He can give you all a lecture."
Asahi's bronze disposition paled considerably at the threat-- Ukai was much more terrifying to face than his captain. When he remained in stiff and in place, Daichi growled again to assert some unnecessary dominance.
"Go. Upstairs. Now."
Immediately, the bunned giant shuffled past him and up the stairwell, but the remaining housemates stood frozen in the entryway-- unsure of whether the command was for all of them. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, the front door swung open behind and Yuji clamored inside, dragging Yachi along with a free hand.
"Heeeeey!" He exclaimed with excess energy before furrowing his brows at the dejected scent of the room, and the sullen disposition of his friends. "Woah...who...uh...who died?"
Daichi met his gaze and the blonde Alpha swallowed a lump of a fear, his adam's apple bobbing with anxiety.
"Were you two playing volleyball today, too?" Daichi challenged with a raised eyebrow-- like an unsatisfied dad waiting for a long expected lie.
"Um, no," Yuji remarked, instantly relaxing. Daichi rolled his eyes, the kid was telling the truth. There was no faking the happiness on his face-- the joy in knowing that he wasn't the bad kid this time around.
"You know how fucked I would be if a stray ball hit me in the jaw?!" Yuji continued in rushed explanation. "It's only just stopped aching. No thank you. Nooooooo thank you!"
What backwards universe had he stumbled into...where Yuji was somehow the smart Alpha in their pack?
"You wanted to go..." Yachi said softly and Yuji hurried to shush her with shaking hands. "You said that you-"
"Shh, Yachi!" You want me to get in trouble with dad over there?" He quickly seethed in hushed tones before snapping his gaze back to Daichi. "The point is, I didn't play volleyball. Not like these idiots! I used my brain!"
Scratch that, Daichi mused with a sly smirk as Yuji gestured his housemates in desperation. Yachi was the brains behind the scrappy kid. He should have suspected that.
"Hey cap," Tanaka quipped with a shrug of his shoulders. Daichi cringed at the scent-- a combination of guilt and pride. "Some of us were okay to play, right? You can't be mad at every-"
Daichi's dark eyes snapped up and the bald Alpha instantly cut the words short. "Oh, I can be mad at everyone. And I am," he asserted as he flicked his gaze over the boys in question-- Shoyo, Keiji, Hajime and, much to his surprise, Kuroo. "You guys are just as bad as the rest of them! You shouldn't have let the others play! Christ...what is wrong with all of you?! Do you have a death wish? Do you even care about healing in time for fall volleyball? Am I speaking another language?!"
"Aw, cap. C'mon," Kuroo whined with a playful grin-- trying to lighten up Dachi's dad mode. "Stop worrying. We made a mistake and we all know it now...right guys? No one was hurt...so we can just live and let live."
A murmur of agreement passed through the small crowd and Daichi rolled his eyes, feeling suddenly tired. "Fine. Don't do it again," he commanded, then shoved through the group and out the front-- effectively ending the tense conversation with his exit.
As he slammed the oak door behind him, he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The clean air whirled around him, banishing the anxious scents of his pack from his flared nostrils. He was mad them for their absolute idiocy, but he was keenly aware that his anger was more twisted than usual-- his recent breakup with Suga had seen to that. As his rage slowly calmed from the evening breeze, the familiar feeling of emptiness seeped back into his bones. He sighed and ran a large hand through his hair, trying to banish his sudden desire to punch something. Expressions of anger seemed to be the only thing able to dispel his inner turmoil over Suga. It was not a good sign.
Just how long was he going to keep feeling this unchecked emptiness? How long was he going to have to replace it with anger? He had never been a hostile person, and fuck, he didn't want to become one.
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