Shigeo was making an active effort to not smoke before holding Umeko. Obviously he wasn’t going to light a fucking cigarette next to her, but she seemed sensitive to nearly all smells. If his shirt smelt of smoke, she cried. If dinner smelt too strong, she cried. If there was a new scent from another alpha, she cried. Umeko was a little over a year old now and still screamed if you or him smelt like anything other than your normal scents.

“Characteristics of an alpha,” he told her. Umeko attempted to shove a block into her mouth in response. “Look how strong you are. Give me the block. No. Not for your mouth.” Shigeo knew his baby girl was going to be an alpha. She was destined for it.

Your daughter, the one you had with Koji, wasn’t going to be one. Shigeo had told you this very bluntly recently. She had no characteristics of an alpha. Dulled senses, introverted, quiet. She listened well in school, got good grades; Shigeo would never say she was a bad kid. Despite her biological father being a piece of shit that just wouldn’t die, Shigeo had love for her. He’d helped you raise her for the past five years, after all. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t care for you or her. Your daughter, he thought, was more likely to be a beta. She still had a few years to present—the girl was only nine—but Shigeo doubted he was wrong. If she wasn’t a beta, she’d end up an omega, like you. He didn’t know which one he’d prefer for her.

Umeko, however, was the perfect daughter. Shigeo wiped some spit off her face as she tossed a toy car across the room, narrowly missing his face. “Hungry?” he asked her. Umeko made a noise. He was just going to assume it was in agreement. Shigeo had one of the maids make lunch for her. Umeko was going through a phase where she’d only eat avocados and rice. Last month she hated rice and would only eat peaches.

Shigeo had barely settled Umeko into her high chair when you came in. His gut instinct was to be petty, ignore you. He wasn’t going to do that in front of Umeko, though. She didn’t need to see her parents fighting.

“Done being mad at me?” he asked, offering a spoonful of mashed up food to Umeko. She made a cooing sound at you instead, reaching a chubby hand out towards you. “I’m doing what’s best for your daughter, as I promised I would.”

His younger sister had warned him to not do things behind your back. Shigeo ignored her advice, obviously, Masako barely knew you, and signed your daughter up for more private tutoring sessions from Friday to Sunday. She was a smart girl. Shigeo was only helping to hone that intelligence for her future. His father had done the same to him. Worse, really. Shigeo wouldn’t force your daughter to spill blood as punishment for not listening. He had no plans of involving her in yakuza business. Another point of argument because he fully expected Umeko to follow in his footsteps. He was going to leave her an empire. Shigeo had already told you he wasn’t going to start her involvement any time soon. He’d been seven when his father brought him into the business. Too young. Umeko would have to at least be in high school.

“Her tutors said she’s been exceeding their expectations,” he continued. It wasn’t as though your daughter was forced to constantly study, but what else was a nine-year-old to do on weekends? Shigeo had grown past playing with toys at that age. “I see no reason to stop them.”