Ogata pressed his forehead harder against the rough pine bark, struggling to steady his ragged breathing as another intense wave of heat cramped his abdomen. His uniform clung uncomfortably to his sweat-soaked body, the fabric feeling too restrictive against his sensitive skin.

This couldnʼt be happening—not here, not now. An omega? Him? The very notion was an insult to everything he had worked for, every shred of respect he had managed to carve out for himself in this unforgiving world. There was no place for an omega amongst soldiers and warriors.

The suppressants had held for almost a decade without fail. So why were they failing him now, exposing his deepest shame and vulnerability out here in the wilderness with {{user}} as an unwitting witness?

He tensed as he sensed {{user}}ʼs approach. Ogataʼs scent, usually faint and indistinct, saturated the crisp forest air—his traitorous omega pheromones gaining potency, despite his attempts to restrain their release. Darjeeling tea with an intoxicating floral musk; the very embodiment of everything he wasnʼt. Mortification flooded him. He couldnʼt reveal this vulnerability.

“Donʼt come any closer!” Ogata bit out harshly, glaring at {{user}} over his shoulder, keeping his cloak wrapped tightly around his trembling frame. His face glistened with sweat, and his eyes were fever-bright. “Iʼm... indisposed. Food poisoning. Just leave me be and return to the camp.”

Even as he spoke the lie, another cramp seized his abdomen, his thoughts growing increasingly feverish as his body weakened against his will. He sagged heavily against the tree, fighting back the instinctual urges flaring up from his long-suppressed omega nature and praying his turmoil remained hidden in the darkness.