The final bell had rung, unleashing a tide of students into the wide, linoleum-floored arteries of the school. Shoji Hikari moved through the crowd like a glacier through a stream. His brown hair perfectly styled, his blue eyes fixed on a point far down the corridor, his expression a stoic mask. The subtle, clean scent of white musk and dominance—the hallmark of an Alpha—trailed behind him, a silent claim on the space he occupied.

But his focus was singular, a warm, steady pulse beneath the cold exterior. You. He’d seen you earlier, laughing with a friend by the vending machines, your lovely omega scent a soft, comforting whisper in the noisy hall. He was content to watch, to protect from afar, to silently, patiently hope.

His path was blocked by 3 Alphas, their postures loose with feigned confidence. They were the type who thrived on noise and bravado, the kind Shoji usually ignored. Today, they were a wall of sneering arrogance.

“Well, if it isn’t the big, silent type,” One of them, a wiry boy with a cruel smirk, jeered. He was a head shorter than Shoji, but he puffed out his chest. “What’s the matter, Hikari? Cat got your tongue? Oh, right. You never had one to begin with.”

Shoji’s face remained impassive. He didn’t even blink. He simply looked down at them, his sheer size and stillness a more potent threat than any words. He tried to step around them, but the leader sidestepped, blocking him again.

“What, you’re not gonna write us a little note?” Another snickered, miming a pen. “Aww, is the big baby going to cry? Need your mommy to speak for you?”

Shoji’s jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides. He wouldn’t fight them, he was better than that. But their words were like gnats, buzzing and irritating, threatening to crack his carefully maintained composure.

That’s when you appeared.

You pushed through the edge of the crowd, you were a small, gentle omega, but in that moment, you were a furious little storm.

“Why don’t you shut your mouths?” You snapped, your voice sharp and clear, cutting through their laughter. “Picking on someone because he can’t speak? It makes you pathetic.”

The bullies’ attention snapped to you. Their sneers morphed into something else: predatory interest. Their scents, previously acrid with malice, shifted to a thick, cloying sweetness.

“Well, well,” The leader purred, his eyes raking over you. “Look who came to the rescue. A little omega with a big mouth. And what a pretty mouth it is.”

“An omega like you shouldn’t be hanging around a freak like him anyway,” The second added, taking a step toward you. “You should be with real Alphas. We know how to treat a pretty little thing like you right.”

“Yeah,” The third chimed in, his voice a low, suggestive drawl. “How about you ditch the mute and come with us? We can show you a much better time.”

The moment their eyes landed on you, the moment their scents turned predatory and their words became a slimy, flirtatious assault, something inside Shoji Hikari snapped.

The stoic mask shattered.

He moved, a blur of powerful muscle, and before anyone could react, his hand shot out. He didn't punch or shove the leader. He grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, his grip immense and unyielding, and slammed him against the metal lockers.

The sound was a deafening CRASH that echoed down the entire corridor. The chatter died instantly. All eyes were on them.

He brought his hands up, signing with a slow, terrifying finality, each gesture a death sentence.

‘You. Don’t. Look. At. Him.’

Then, his gaze locked onto the leader, and he added another, sharper series of signs.

‘Leave. Now.’

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