Chapter Text
Omegaverse Vocabulary:
- Alpha: A “dominant” subgender. Both men and women can be Alphas. Female Alphas are relatively rare, making up a very small fraction of the global population. While male Alphas are more common, they still only make up about 10% of the global population. Alphas are able to impregnate Betas and Omegas. They have a mating cycle that comes irregularly, on average, three times a year, during the winter to spring, spring to summer, and summer to fall seasonal changes.
- Beta: Betas can be both men and women, and they make up a majority of the global population. Betas have no mating cycle nor exceptional drive to reproduce. They still produce pheromones, generally milder than that of an Alpha or an Omega. Their pheromones are neutral, comparatively speaking, and often are used to diffuse tense situations or to calm other subgenders down in times of high stress or aggression. Betas can impregnate Omegas and other Betas who are able to get pregnant.
- Omega: A “submissive” subgender. Both men and women can be Omegas but male Omegas make up a tiny fraction of the global population and are exceedingly rare. Both male and female Omegas are able to get pregnant, though male Omegas tend to struggle with fertility and about thirty-percent of all male Omegas are completely infertile, contributing to the lack of the subgender trait being passed on biologically. Only family trees with male Omega genes can produce male Omegas, and the trait tends to skip generations. They have a mating cycle that comes monthly that involves ovulation and a subsequent menstrual cycle, the same as assigned female Betas.
- Rut: The Alpha mating cycle, which comes typically every few months unless triggered by high stress or pheromones of an Omega. A rut lasts roughly one week during which the Alpha will experience a higher than normal sex drive, irritability, and a stronger urge to protect their pack/home which can lead to more intense animalistic behavior and a general need to keep their pack and (if they have one) mate close. A rut passes more quickly if the Alpha is able to engage in sex and knot their partner. A rut is generally when an Alpha is at their strongest, physically, and they are more volatile during this period. Most Alphas take time off to stay home during this time but can still function mostly normally with periods of rest and good hydration as well as emotional coping mechanisms for their mood swings.
- Heat: The mating cycle of an Omega, which comes monthly. Heats cause an increase in bodily lubrication, intense fever, heightened senses, a state of intense arousal, delirium, cramping, headaches, and irritability. A heat lasts roughly 4 to 5 days at most, during which an Omega is typically bed-bound by their symptoms which can be alleviated with orgasms. Omegas are prone to rapid dehydration during their heat and need an excess amount of calories to keep their body from growing weak. A heat passes more quickly when an Omega has an Alpha partner who can knot them and satiate the biological mechanism for procreation.
- Pre-Heat: A period of time not dissimilar to PMS or PMDD. Not all Omegas experience Pre-Heat, but those who do often suffer with symptoms of melancholy, an urge to clean or nest, moodiness, the need to scent their pack, along with headaches, body aches, and intense cramping. When in pre-heat their pheromones start to become more strongly identifiable to those around them. Pre-Heat typically comes a week before the Omega goes into heat and lasts until heat starts. Symptoms of pre-heat can be countered with OTC anti-inflammatory medications and are sometimes alleviated entirely by suppressants but this is not always the case.
- Pheromones: All genders give off distinct pheromones determined by genetics. Pheromones change with extreme shifts in mood or physical condition, such as stress, arousal, depression, or sickness. Pheromones were once flaunted to attract mates, though this practice has gone out of fashion in the modern age. This, however, does not stop individuals from using or enjoying pheromones (their own and others) to heighten feelings of desire or to entice partners into sex. It is generally frowned upon to go to public spaces without some kind of pheromone blocker, such as OTC patches or body creams that help neutralize the scent. There are six pheromone glands that release scent, one on each side of the neck beneath the ears, one on the inside of each wrist, and one on the inside of each thigh.
- Scenting: A practice of rubbing one’s scent/pheromones on another person, generally reserved for pack bonding and for family/mates. Scenting is a common, but intimate practice that helps foster a feeling of comfort and closeness between individuals. This is also called “scent sharing” when the scenting is mutual.
- Pack: A group of individuals who are bonded emotionally. Children tend to only pack bond with their immediate family until they reach adolescence and go through presentation. In middle school and high school, it is not uncommon for pack bonds to form among peers and groups of friends that last until maturity is reached and a family is started.
- Scuffling/Challenging: A form of pack bonding that involves physical altercation. This is generally something Alphas participate in (when it is two or more Alphas it is called a Challenge), but Omegas and Betas can and do also engage in this activity. It’s a playful attempt at social dominance that is often repeated every so often. Scuffling allows for the release of pent up emotional stress and energy and is usually looked on as friendly and encouraged, though is not considered acceptable to do in shared or public spaces.
- Alpha Voice: A tone produced by a secondary set of vocal chords by Alphas that induces a state of docility in Omegas to make them compliant. It is highly regarded as dangerous and it’s frowned upon to use it in any case that is not an absolute emergency to ensure the health and safety of an Omega. Using Alpha Voice in situations not deemed appropriate can result in legal action and is considered assault.
- Feral: A state of frenzy produced by intense fear or duress. Omegas are the most prone to ferality, though on occasion Alphas have also been known to go feral. During a feral episode, the individual enters a fugue-like state in which they are entirely operating on instinct, generally to protect themselves from a perceived extreme threat. The individual will generally not be able to tell friends or family from threat while feral and will lash out at anyone that attempts to subdue them physically. Episodes of ferality are most common in those who come from environments of domestic abuse, those with a history of mental health issues, and Omegas who are pregnant.
- Knot: A bulbous protrusion around the base of an Alpha’s genitals that swells in states of heightened arousal or during a Rut. The knot is large and helps keep sperm inside the Alpha’s partner to help better the chances of impregnation.
- Omega Lock: A tightening of the walls of an Omega’s birthing canal that happens during sex. It holds the Alpha’s knot inside in order to increase the possibility of impregnation. Omega Lock lasts about fifteen minutes, during which the muscles cannot relax and the Alpha will not be able to withdraw. Betas, however, are generally able to pull free during this period as they don’t have a knot that obstructs them.
- Tying: The extended period during which Omegas and Alphas cannot separate from one another after reaching climax.
- Purring: A sound used to soothe or express contentment, or sometimes an autonomic sound that can be a sign of distress/anxiety. Alphas purr, Omegas and Betas do not.
- Keen: A sound specific to Omegas, high pitched and meant to call for the attention of Alphas, generally used in times of distress or during heat to help Alphas find them. It is an autonomic response.
- Chirrup: A friendly noise often used by and toward children that all genders can make. Think of the sound a cat makes when you wake them when petting them. Chirruping is not dissimilar. This sound is typically a kind of happy greeting and releases dopamine & oxytocin when made or heard. Children chirrup at each other quite frequently, though it is not common for adults to chirrup at one another.
- Mating Bites/Marking: A mating bite/mark creates a bond between Omega and Alpha. When an Alpha leaves a mark it is temporary, lasting one to four months, a period during which the Omega will feel drawn to the Alpha and be especially sensitive toward their pheromones. Omega mating bites are permanent. Once an Alpha is bitten by an Omega, the bond is lifelong. If an Alpha is bitten by an Omega, they cannot be bitten again and will struggle with space or distance should the Omega decide not to be with them anymore. In many instances, this leads to impotence and an inability to engage sexually with any other partner for the Alpha. This can cause despondency and depression in the abandoned and marked Alpha. Omega mating bites are heavily discouraged until after marriage. Alphas, however, do not have to be nearly as concerned about their own biting and marking habits.
- Presenting: A period during adolescence when the subgender becomes apparent via hormone fluctuations and mating cycles beginning. It is normal for children to get a SG Panel (a simple blood test) at age 12 to determine their subgender prior to starting their mating cycles.
- Suppressants: A medication that helps regulate heat cycles and pheromones, as well as hormone levels. There are suppressants for both Omegas and Alphas, though generally Alphas do not take suppressants as their mating cycles are far less frequent than an Omega’s. Suppressants require a doctor’s prescription to acquire and are generally not prescribed to anyone under the age of 13, though many male Omegas seek them regardless with parental consent in order to help them blend better with their peers. Each prescription is set in a 30 day cycle with 3 days during which the Omega will go into heat but it will be much milder with less aggressive symptoms. For Alpha’s, it is a 90 day prescription cycle with a 7 day rut period. There have been many clinical studies that show a link between long-term suppressant use and infertility in Omegas, moreso male Omegas than female Omegas.
- Nesting: A practice generally common in Omegas in which they clean and arrange their living spaces to be more comfortable for them. This includes taking items that carry the scent of pack members and placing them strategically in their common relaxation areas, such as a favorite chair or in their bed.
- Nest: A pile of pillows/blankets/scent heavy soft objects arranged for comfort reasons, generally on a bed. Omegas make nests to help alleviate symptoms of pre-heat or during pregnancy to reduce stress and produce oxytocin.
- Piles/Piling: A pack bonding practice in which the entire pack snuggles and scents one another for comfort and closeness.
- Scruffing: The act of grabbing an Omega by the back of the neck while applying pressure to the scent glands in order to direct the Omega bodily where they desire. This is usually only done by parents and their children, though on occasion an Alpha may do this to their mate.
- Fated Bond: Often considered to be an old wives tale, a Fated Bond is a bond between an Alpha and Omega not unlike a soul-mate. This concept is believed to be derived from pheromone compatibility which does occur and has a biological purpose. Those who are pheromone compatible are more likely to be successful in procreating.
About Omegaverse Biology:
Omega Biology:
- Male Omegas can usually be spotted at birth by their unique genitalia. Their penis generally extends from labia minora and majora, sitting just above the genital opening used for intercourse and birth. There are rare occasions in which a child born with this particular set of genitalia will still present as a Beta later in life, though this is rare. Female Omegas are indistinguishable from female betas unless in heat or pre-heat.
Alpha Biology:
- Female Alphas can usually be spotted at birth by their unique genitalia. Their genitals are not dissimilar to a male Omega’s and they have a set of internal gonads which are viewable by a medical professional with an ultrasound. It is possible for those born with Female Alpha genitalia to present as Betas, but this is uncommon. Male Alphas are indistinguishable from male Betas until they present and begin mating cycles.
"Excuse me?" Jotaro asks, and the look in his mother's eyes is deeply apologetic. He's never seen her look quite so somber or serious and it's setting his teeth on edge. Her calming pheromones are doing little to settle the sudden heat rising in his chest. It's a familiar feeling, the rage that comes from fear, specifically.
"We think it would be for the best. If you can start somewhere fresh, far away from all this, then you have a chance of–"
"Bullshit. He wants to send me away because he doesn't want to deal with me," Jotaro snaps. Holy cowers. He hates being like this, he hates feeling so damn angry all the time but from the moment he fully presented five years ago, it seemed like dear old dad had finally written Jotaro off as a lost cause. From what Jotaro had understood, they’d all been so certain he'd be an Alpha, but then he was born and the countdown to when Jotaro would fully present began. There had been a sliver of hope that he might still turn out to be a beta but that was a slim to none chance and wishful thinking. Jotaro was the first Omega born to the Kujo family in decades, the first male Omega ever . It seemed the Joestar genes were simply stronger or maybe life just… Had other plans for Jotaro.
The fact that he was an Omega at all was a statistical anomaly. Male Omegas made up just about 2% of the global population. It was such a rarity but Jotaro knew his great-great-grandfather was also a male omega, the only other in the Joestar line on record. A male Omega that was built like him. Big, imposing, misunderstood. Jotaro sometimes wished Jonathan Joestar was still alive or that he could go back in time and speak to him, but that simply wasn’t to be. Jotaro was an island unto himself and even his mother struggled to understand exactly what it was like. To be an Omega that no one could possibly want, that no one could ever believe was an Omega at all upon first glance. To be looked at with expectations by the world he could never meet while facing ones he never wanted within his own home.
It was suffocating.
And he was suffering, for being born this way. He felt like he was being punished for something completely outside of his control dictating the entirety of his life when he wants is to be able to live peacefully. To be accepted. But no one wants to accept him. That's the root cause of why he's standing here in the foyer with his mother after yet another doctor’s appointment, another meeting with their lawyers, another day of being ferried around in a car with tinted windows and extra private security on his father’s payroll. He never asked for this, but it was his bullshit to deal with. Of course it was. Life wasn’t fair. Jotaro’s less so than many others.
"Jotaro please," Holy pleads, reaching for him and at first Jotaro flinches away, takes a step back because he feels so tender. Betrayed. She sees through him so damn easily and closes the distance between them. Four more steps and then her hands are on his face and he goes, ducking and tucking his face into the crook of her neck. He inhales the soft scent of lilac and ozone. His mother's spring flower and summer storm scent soaks his senses and he calms. How is he meant to contend with himself? His anxieties and his moods without his mother around? This is where the scent of comfort is. This is supposed to be where he's safest but he hasn't felt safe in years now. When his father is home he feels like he ought to hide and the instinct to crawl on his belly and tiptoe around his own fucking house is what's made him this way. Always angry, always on edge, the calming scent of his mother the only comfort he has in this fucked up situation. He doesn’t even really have friends.
He’s never let anyone get close after fully presenting. The thought that now he was a fully-fledged Omega, that he could go into heat, that he could be picked out by scent in a crowd during pre-heat if he wasn’t especially careful, had been a major motivating factor in Jotaro focusing entirely on his studies and keeping everyone he could as far away as possible.
"You won't be alone. Josuke is attending the same school. Your Jiji has made arrangements so you'll be in the same dorm and with the protocols they have in place you'll pass a lot easier there. You can focus on school instead of… Of all of this."
Her reasoning makes sense but Jotaro struggles to find the prospect of relying on a relative he's not seen since he was six years old at all comforting. As close as he and Josuke had been as children, that relationship was all but dissolved, wasn’t it? They've barely spoken in years. Ever since Jiji moved Josuke and his mother to New York they simply didn’t travel back to Japan. Grandma Suzi came from time to time. Her being a Beta allows her the ability to avoid the worst of these secondary gender politics, and Jotaro knows she’s felt frustration ever since the existence of Josuke and Tomoko was discovered. Tomoko. An Omega who captured Joseph’s heart. Fated. He’d had no choice but to keep her close. And Josuke…
Jotaro can recall how well they’d gotten along as children but the memories were getting fuzzier with time. What would Josuke think about all this? What kind of person is he now? Jotaro used to take comfort in his presence and would have easily said Josuke was his best friend. In many ways his one and only friend. But Josuke is an unknown now, all Jotaro has are photographs and a lukewarm idea of what Josuke's been getting up to via social media but Jotaro has been too cowardly to break the stretching silence between them over the years.
"Does he know? About… me? About what happened? Or that I'm coming?" Jotaro nuzzles under his mother's chin, trying somehow to feel smaller, to feel more secure but she's so slight compared to him. His stature being unprecedented for an Omega is half Jotaro's problem when dealing with the public. It’s all so fucked. This whole stupid situation is a disaster, top to bottom and Jotaro wants it to go away. He doesn’t want to have to be the one to leave to make that happen, it’s not fair.
"I've told him you'll be joining him soon, but I didn't see a reason to explain your situation to him. What happened is something only you have the right to share with anyone else. And your secondary gender doesn't define you, Jotaro. It's not as important as the world makes it seem."
Stealth.
Jotaro is being sent to a boarding school halfway across the world in the hopes that he can start somewhere fresh and live stealth where no one knows his secondary gender or what he's been through. So that Jotaro is no longer at risk. So he doesn't have to worry so damn much about what other people might do. A precaution that feels more like a consequence for actions that aren’t even his own. He is the victim and yet everyone around him has placed the weight of the aftermath on his shoulders.
"There's also a councilor there, waiting for you, who specializes in… In incidents… Circumstances like yours. Will you please at least do a few sessions? For me?"
Therapy.
Jotaro feels so off-kilter, so disconnected from his sense of self. It's been three weeks and he's recovered physically but everything else is a quagmire of thoughts and emotions that simply don't feel like they're part of him at all. He exhales and wraps his arms around his mother, squeezing her tightly against his chest. He’s not adverse to therapy, but it doesn’t make him feel good, to think that he might need it. That his mother is on board with sending him away when he’s clearly in a fragile place. But what can he do? He doesn’t have much choice in the matter. Just like he didn’t have a choice in being born this way. No one explained to him when he was little that this would be the way he’d have to navigate the world, and now that it’s happening, he would rather simply not exist like this at all.
So maybe therapy is a good idea. He can’t be the only Omega who’s ever felt this way.
"Fine."
It’s useless to argue against any of this. Everything has been decided for him, the only decision he can make, the only agency he has is how agreeable to it he can be. What else can he do? Holy strokes her fingers through his hair and her soft, low humming resonates through Jotaro's entire body, soothing him until his hackles finally lower completely. It's a temporary relief, this much he knows for certain. He can’t live the rest of his life in the shelter of his mother's arms. He has to face the world again, eventually.
"Your final court appearance is on Monday, so take the rest of the weekend to rest. Your father is going to take you to the airport on Friday."
Six days. Only six days to appreciate this place, his mother's presence and unwavering kindness. Only six damn days to pack up his life and one of those days he'll be standing in a stuffy courtroom, listening to the judge deliver a sentence that will never feel long enough for Jotaro. If there's one benefit to the entire situation, it's that there was too much evidence of what happened for anything to be denied. Still. The video is in circulation, passed among friends despite the criminality of simply having it at all. The evidence is also a lingering harbinger of doom hanging over Jotaro like a big cartoon anvil waiting to splatter him like a ketchup packet beneath a car tire. Human debris.
He barely feels human at all, with how people are treating him.
He feels like a goddamn inconvenience.
Jotaro lets Holy go and steps away from her, looking deeper into the labyrinthine hallways of his home, the darkened corridors barely lit by the sunset spilling from the open front door and across the hardwood. The concept of rest has been especially foreign to him these past few weeks but he gives a single nod and sulks away. He feels, at the very least, a little less livid. He tries, as he wanders through the halls toward his bedroom, to think about this whole situation logically.
Attending a boarding school in which suppressants are mandatory that has a very strict Do Not Disclose policy in order to help tamp down on fraternization, will definitely allow him to focus and hopefully prevent another incident. Josuke, from what little he remembers, is sweet. At least, when they were small children, he certainly seemed sweet, if a bit rambunctious. They'd only spent three summers and a handful of Holidays together after Josuke's existence was discovered. It's anyone's guess how much Josuke has changed since then. He remembers his Jiji bragging with pride when Josuke presented as an Alpha over Christmas a few years back. That video call had been brief, just Jotaro and his mother opening gifts from Jiji while he caught them up on everything that had been going on in New York over the year. Jotaro had wondered where Josuke was during the call, if he got the gift and card Jotaro sent, just like he did every year.
Jotaro only hopes that Josuke won't try and figure out what Jotaro is. Or worse, assume he's an Alpha like everyone else and try to pull some stupid dominance shit. Jotaro just wants to live. That's it. He wants to not think about genders or expectations. He just wants to graduate and move on with his life. Whether or not this boarding school is actually the answer remains to be seen. It's not like Jotaro can avoid going, let alone predict what will happen once he gets there. He'll simply have to go and find out.
Sadao picks up Jotaro's suitcases and leads the way toward the car. Jotaro doesn't really know what to make of the gesture. His father has been distant ever since Jotaro presented but in the last month he's been especially quiet, more withdrawn than ever, and what's somehow worse, he's been treating Jotaro like he's made of glass. Does he think Jotaro's simply going to break at the slightest provocation of his delicate Omega sensibilities? Jotaro doesn't ask and definitely doesn't protest. He just needs to get through this stupid car ride to the airport and then he can get out from under the stifling pressure of his father's presence until winter break. Jotaro swings into the passenger side seat and pulls the belt across his chest, staring straight ahead as his father loads the cases into the trunk. The silence is so heavy, so loaded, but Jotaro's not going to be the one to break it. He has nothing left to say to his father.
As Sadao gets in and starts up the car, he taps through the digital menu and chooses Jotaro's phone from the connected devices list. A kindness… Is this some kind of guilt thing? A last-ditch effort to apologize without actually saying sorry. Jotaro pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls through his playlists, choosing one that won't grate on his father's nerves, though doing exactly the opposite is briefly tempting. Jotaro has always enjoyed jazz. He'd spent so many hours as a child, laying on piles of pillows, buried in his father's strong, woodsy scent while listening to him compose from his baby grand piano. The way the light would filter through the leaves and boughs just beyond the screens and dapple the ceiling, shift as the breeze made everything sway, had been so uniquely settling. The sound of his father at the keys, the creak of the foot pedals, so beautiful and organic, still echo in Jotaro's dreams sometimes.
The rumbling motion of the car and the smooth notes of a saxophone help lull Jotaro back from the razor's edge of total anxiety. He's flown on planes before, many times, but not in several years, and being stuck in a tin can full of harsh, recycled, dry air full of scents left behind by suitcases or passengers who weren't polite enough to wear blockers on a plane was gross, annoying– headache-inducing. His father had sprung for first class which would make the flight more tolerable, sure, but it was still going to give him a headache. He can't sleep on planes, so the long flight ahead promises to be very draining. He closes his eyes, preemptively trying to get some rest in for at the very least, the duration of this car ride.
The peace lasts less than fifteen seconds.
"Your mother and I aren't doing this to punish you," Sadao says, so quiet and toneless he may as well have skipped saying anything at all as far as Jotaro is concerned. Regardless of their intent, that is precisely how this feels. To be forced out of his home, his own town, because–
"I just want you somewhere safe. At least until you're finished with high school."
"Yeah. Sure. This is all for my protection. It's got nothing to do with your career or the fact that I'm not…" Jotaro presses his lips together, holds it in. What would be the point in saying the rest of what's been on his mind since before all this even began?
…not what you wanted in a son.
…that you're not able to understand me at all. Not that you ever even tried.
"My publicist is doing her best to keep this quiet as much for your sake as mine. Just because it benefits us both to keep you as far from ground zero as possible does not mean that I'm doing it solely for me, or that I don't care about you.” Jotaro hears the creak of Sadao’s grip tightening on the wheel. “You're my son."
"You could try saying that like you mean it, you know." Jotaro folds his arms across his chest, slumps in his seat, and tries to shrink away from this conversation. Why can’t Sadao just leave it alone? Why does he have to say shit like that? It’s unfair. It’s a prop, just an item in Sadao’s ‘Real Father’ toolkit. Bullshit.
"I don't want to fight with you, Jotaro." The exhaustion in Sadao’s tone is paired with a grating sigh. It rubs like 80 grit sandpaper across Jotaro’s senses.
"Of course you don't." It’s not the most eloquent response, more reflexive than anything else but Jotaro doesn’t care. He won’t pretend to believe Sadao cares about him in any way that really matters. There’s nothing warm or nurturing or fatherly about him and this whole boarding school fiasco only makes that more starkly apparent.
"I can't make you believe me or my intentions." Not that Sadao had ever tried to convince Jotaro of his caring to begin with. Of course Jotaro doesn’t believe him. He would be a fool to expect anything different from his disappointment of a son.
"How's your neck?" Jotaro’s teeth grind together as he asks it, even though he shouldn’t. It’s the only thing he can think of to end this pointless back-and-forth.
Sadao's silence, however, isn't a victory. It's just uncomfortable. Jotaro glances sidelong at his father's soft cream turtleneck, eyeing the edge of a fresh bandage. Sadao's jaw is tight, flexing as the subtle scent of discontent makes his woodsy, fir tree and juniper pheromones grow acrid like ash. A forest fire. Choked with smoke and death. It turns Jotaro's stomach, makes it harder to breathe, makes him feel like his world is tipping on its axis as the deeply ingrained fear of his father’s wrath bubbles up inside him, an innate instinct telling him to bare his throat and hold his tongue. He props his elbow along the lip of the window and cradles his forehead in his hand. He hears Sadao take a slow breath. He's steadying himself, preparing to speak again so Jotaro braces for impact.
"You can hate me all you want Jotaro, but that feeling is not mutual. We may not get along, we may not be close, but we are family. What happened was not your fault. I do not hold it against you." Sadao’s explanation leaves a lot to be desired. Jotaro doesn’t need Sadao to tell him that what happened wasn’t his fault. He doesn’t need empty platitudes about familial love. He doesn’t need anything at all from his father. He’d given up hope on having any kind of close relationship years ago.
"Maybe you should." Jotaro doesn’t feel good about what he did to Sadao, but he doesn’t feel bad, either. He doesn’t really feel much of anything beyond the numbness that’s overtaken his world since he woke up strapped to a hospital bed, delirious on sedatives, alone.
"Why would I do that?"
Jotaro doesn't have an answer. He's simply being combative on reflex, he knows he is, deep down. This conversation is pointless. It's going nowhere. He doesn't really know why Sadao started it to begin with. What could they really accomplish, talking about why this is happening? The result is the same, either way. Jotaro is being sent away. He won’t see his mother again until Christmas, and he probably won’t see Sadao at all since the man is always booked solid through the winter.
"Jotaro, you were in serious danger. What happened was merely a biological defense mechanism. It's morally neutral." Morally neutral. Jotaro scoffs at the sentiment.
"You used Alpha Voice on me." He can’t stop himself. He can’t hold in the urge to keep fighting, to keep pushing. He’s as guilty as Sadao for keeping this nonsense going and the strain on their relationship may have started with Sadao, but Jotaro sure as shit didn’t help things and still isn’t.
"What choice did I really have? I did it to protect us both. If you were in my position, what would you have done? If I had let you hurt me would you be able to live with that?"
Another question Jotaro doesn't really have an answer for. He doesn't hate his father. Hate and resentment aren't the same thing. He resents Sadao for dangling the idea of what kind of father he could have been, only to snatch it away when he realized Jotaro would never bond with him in the ways he'd been expecting. These stupid secondary gender dynamics, the social expectations, the pressures… They're all so goddamn pointless. Dividing lines and for what? He would have been happier as a beta.
"I never asked to be this way."
"No one does, Jotaro. There's nothing wrong with being an Omega."
"No. There's just something wrong with being an Omega who looks like me."
"You will find someone who accepts you."
Sadao's words are meant to be a comfort. Jotaro knows they are, but they sound like a rejection. Someone out there will accept him. Right. Because no one here fucking did. It wasn't like Jotaro went out of his way to be treated like an Alpha. He never said he was one. He never pretended to be anything. He spurned the attention of girls and guys alike. He didn’t make friends. He didn’t do a damn thing, and yet all those assumptions, things he never tried to project that people saw anyway because of his size and stature, were what got him in this mess to begin with. The moment he was discovered everything went to shit. He'd been so careful but one little locker room scuffle–
'Holy shit– Kujo has no fuckin' balls! You're an Omega!?'
His throat feels too hot and too tight to swallow. It's painful, he tries, he tries so damn hard but it's like all the air has left his lungs and his entire chest is being compressed beneath a steel girder. It's all collapsing inward, a sudden, crushing sensation, starting in his throat and going down, down, down. His vision dims around the edges as he tries not to think about it. Tries to get out of the memory that's still too fresh, the scent of Alpha fury, the feeling of being backed into a corner, cold wet tile on his skin, it's all so damn close.
'You think you can get away with pretending to be one of us? You're just a–'
"Jotaro? Jotaro–"
The car isn't moving and Jotaro finally gets a full breath when he feels a hand gently touch his shoulder, just a brush of fingertips. Not grabbing, and the voice, so resonant and familiar and not at all part of the horrific memory, drags him toward the surface. He's shaking. He can't stop shaking and he feels hot all over.
"You're having another attack Jotaro. Try to focus on something tangible like the specialist said."
Sadao's stern tone is oddly effective. It lacks paternal warmth but Jotaro's pretty sure if he heard that kind of affection he wouldn't believe it to be real in the first place and just tune it out. He fights through the muck in his mind, like wading through wet sand and thigh-deep water. He can't let himself slip away again. He can't risk it. Once was more than enough for a lifetime. He doesn’t want to lose control like that. Not again.
He has an answer to Sadao's question now. No . He doesn't think he could live with himself if he hurt his father worse than he already has. Not because he is concerned about Sadao’s well-being. He doesn't want to become an animal again, a slave to self-preservation instincts that only make him violent. He's not in that locker room. Those boys are serving their sentences and Jotaro is leaving the country. He's safe. He's going to be safe.
"Can you hear me, Jotaro?"
Jotaro nods, the motion making the interior of the car feel like it's a spinning teacup on an amusement park ride, the world beyond the windows is an indecipherable, nauseating blur. The vertigo makes him want to close his eyes as they rapidly flick back and forth, trying to make sense of motion that isn’t really happening, while his mind tries to orient him properly once more. He doesn't close his eyes because he knows what he'll see. He doesn’t want to see it, but it’s there, waiting in the shadowy recesses of his mind, stinking like an open wound left to fester, aching and throbbing, feverish to the touch. He tries to shake his head, shake it loose, make it feel farther away, and the motion makes his stomach pitch, bile rising, an acidic tide in the back of his throat.
Lingering like this is pointless.
"Just drive. I'm… I'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" Sadao asks, though it doesn't sound mistrustful. It simply sounds… Concerned. Jotaro can still feel the light touch of Sadao's fingertips on his shoulder. It's enough but also too much. He yanks away, pressing himself against the door of the car and pulling the brim of his cap down lower on his brow.
"I don't wanna miss my flight. Let's just go."
Sadao doesn't press him further and pulls back out onto the road.
The rest of the drive goes by in total silence.
Jotaro immediately detests the smell of the Heathrow Airport. It's been so long since he's traveled outside of Japan and those memories are from a time when he was much younger, much less aware of the reality that is Western Culture. All the perfumes, the scented deodorants, the hair care products, the overwhelming lack of people wearing blockers. It's a muddy, noxious cloud of other people's smells and it's not doing anything for Jotaro's piss poor mood. The concept of Scent Annoyance is nearly non-existent in western cultures, Jotaro already knew this, but to be reminded the moment the plane door opened was like getting kicked in the cunt with a steel toed boot.
It was too fucking much.
Getting through customs is an equally nightmarish affair, so when he gets to baggage claim and finally sees a driver standing there, holding a sign with his name on it, it's a serious relief. Jiji and Sadao had gone to a lot of trouble to ensure everything went smoothly. As unnerving as being this far away from everything he's ever known is, there is definitely a blossoming feeling of freedom. Freedom from the social pressures back home, room to actually breathe and decompress for the first time in a month because no one here gives a damn who he is. No one here knows. He can just exist.
Now that this is suddenly all very tangible, he sighs and lets go of his irritation as best as he can while following his appointed driver to the Bentley waiting outside. The soft leather interior is blissfully less tainted by the scent of other people. The only thing he really smells is the lingering evidence of how damn new the vehicle is, and the driver's own subdued scent which is simply that of clean laundry. A Beta, Jotaro guesses.
"The drive is a bit long, about two hours from here to Ipswich. Feel free to relax and sleep if you like," the driver says. He's a cordial man, and his Japanese is stilted, but still clear enough that Jotaro doesn't have any issue understanding him. It's yet another nice touch. He settles in and slouches in his seat.
"Thanks.” Jotaro savors being able to speak his own language for a little while longer. He's expecting to only really get the chance to speak it during calls home or with Josuke. If the kid hasn't totally assimilated. He's been going to this specialized school since shortly after he presented. Jotaro's wondering why that is. Maybe Josuke's had as much trouble as Jotaro, dealing with the stupid expectations that come after presentation. He wonders if Josuke felt the same way Jotaro did, that everything the world led them to believe, was ultimately hollow. Devoid of real meaning.
He'll find out eventually. Or maybe he won't. Only time would tell.
He closes his eyes and let the gentle vibration of the cushy luxury vehicle rolling down the highway lull him into a light sleep. He’s vaguely aware of time passing, of the light beyond the tinted windows changing as early morning faded into afternoon. The school itself is northeast of Ispwich a ways, nestled into rolling green, off the beaten path. It looks like something out of a period drama, the school grounds appear to be comprised of several smaller buildings around a sprawling courtyard and a main building which stands five stories high. The driveway itself curves in a circle around a massive fountain that is turning green with age, moss and discoloration clinging to the stone. Jotaro isn't sure what to make of the place at a glance upon arrival. There are people waiting to greet him on the stone steps just outside the main doors.
One is clearly someone who works at the school, if the age and attire are anything to go by. He's an older gentleman, in his late fifties as far as Jotaro can tell, with salt and pepper hair and an aged byt well cared for suit the color of an overcast day. The other person looks familiar but also not. As Jotaro gets out of the car and gets a better look, he can hardly believe his own eyes. The last time he'd seen Josuke, the boy had been much smaller than him, slight, with an untamed tangle of midnight blue hair and a permanent smudge of dirt on his cheek. He was a rowdy little thing. But this… This is different.
Jotaro would know those violet-blue eyes anywhere, not to mention the familial resemblance is uncanny despite them only being half uncle and nephew. Joestar genes were damn strong. Josuke is easily 190cm tall now, broad across the chest, but his hips look fit for birthing children, which is an awful intrusive thought Jotaro would like to scrub from the surface of his mind with salt coated steel wool. His hair is coiffed into the most ostentatious pompadour Jotaro's ever seen and his uniform looks like it's screaming for mercy across his pecs.
"Jotaro? Holy shit–" Josuke's call from the steps is deep, it carries, it's warm and inviting, as if no time has passed at all even though the last time Jotaro heard his voice it had been high pitched and melodic. He's grown so damn much it's hard to believe this is the same boy at all. Josuke descends the stairs two at a time and dashes across the pebbled driveway. All at once, Jotaro finds himself wrapped up in an unexpected embrace with Josuke's nose tucked under the hinge of his jaw as he nuzzles in and scents him, just like he used to when they were little kids.
"It's been so long– Ten… No. Eleven years. " He speaks into Jotaro's shoulder like they're sharing a secret. They're not strangers, but this is strange. They might as well be, considering how much they've both changed since they last saw one another. Just the same, some deeply rooted instinct in him has Jotaro leaning into it. He nuzzles against Josuke's neck and shoulder in turn, inhaling the faintest whiff of him through his blocker patch. It's not much, but it's enough. It's familiar though matured. When they were kids, Josuke always smelled like the sea and night blooming flowers. Jasmine. He smelled of salt air and wet sand and summer time. It’s not so different now, though it’s so muted Jotaro can barely make it out. For that brief moment he enjoys the nostalgia of it, butting his temple against Josuke’s as they separate.
For as much as he’s changed physically, Josuke’s undercurrent of kindness, of sweetness and softness, is still there, physically manifesting in the way his hands settle against Jotaro’s elbows, squeezing slightly. His smile is so charming and brilliant, no longer gap-toothed, but still just as dimpled and crooked. Josuke barely has to tilt his head to look Jotaro in the eye anymore. His jaw is so sharp, brow so damn strong, and his posture is impeccable. Straight back and squared shoulders, befitting the Alpha that Jotaro knows he is. He looks genuinely happy to see Jotaro and he’s the first person who has in over a month now. It’s become foreign to him, to be smiled at without a single sign of frustration or melancholy.
“It’s good to see you, Josuke,” Jotaro smiles and his words are quiet but sincere. Josuke gives a nod and takes a step back, half turning as the older gentleman strides down the steps to join them.
“Mr. Kujo. I’m happy to see you’ve made it with no complications. By request of your grandfather, Mr. Higashikata will be joining us on your tour before we get you fully settled in. No need to worry about your bags. We’ll have them taken to your room,” the man says as he extends a hand toward Jotaro to shake. “I am Arthur Benton, Head of the Admissions board.”
“Good to meet you,” Jotaro’s reply is bland as a spring breeze as he takes that hand and shakes it with a far more crushing grip than the man obviously expected. The subtle wince and awkward laugh as he releases Jotaro’s hand gives him away. Even with Jotaro’s stature, the guy was expecting Omega Behavior. Expecting a flower petal and getting a meat grinder. Serves him right. Or maybe that was just Jotaro projecting his own feelings onto a man who probably spent more time playing golf and drinking than he did actually talking to the teenagers in his care. Benton turned toward the staircase and gestured with one hand for Jotaro to follow.
“This way, please.”
Jotaro took one step and then felt a nudge at his side. Josuke’s elbow. He looked over and Josuke leaned in close, whispering to him in Japanese:
“Artie here used to play golf with Joseph. That’s how he got this job in the first place. Apparently he used to be a CFO or something like that… for a rival Real Estate brokerage and hated it. Joseph got him this gig, in exchange for the guy's shares. Private sale, backroom deal shit. Joseph now owns that brokerage too. Fuckin’ suits, man,” Josuke explains this as they walk a few paces behind Benton and follow him up into the building. Josuke seems irritated with the entire concept and Jotaro does not blame Josuke for that one bit. As far as Jotaro is concerned, real estate is a scam. Exploitative and slimy at best. He can recall being ten years old and listening to his father rip into Joseph about how he built his fortune. The two had never really gotten along for various reasons, and Sadao detested Joseph in the same way someone hates a piece of gum they’ve realized a month too late is stuck in the sole of their shoe. An annoyance that would take far too much effort to remove, it’s already become one with the tread so all that’s left to do is live with it.
It also did not escape Jotaro’s notice that Josuke was calling Joseph… well. Joseph. Not ‘dad’. When they were children, Josuke called him ‘Jojo-san’ or ‘Joestar-san’ when his grasp of the language improved. Jotaro couldn’t recall a single time he’d ever heard Josuke call Joseph anything other than some variation of his name. Despite having been raised from the age of three by the man, in his presence, it seems to Jotaro as though Josuke has no real bond with Joseph at all. What has it been like for Josuke to live in New York and then England? How has Josuke been coping with their separation these past eleven years? Jotaro has questions but he’s too reserved, or maybe too polite to simply ask them.
“... in 1920 there was a protest…”
Benton yammers on about the school’s history and policies while leading the way across gleaming, waxed stone floors toward yet another ridiculous staircase. This place is more like a mansion than a school. Everything Benton says drifts through one ear and out the other as Jotaro’s gaze is drawn back time and again to Josuke, who seems perfectly content to stay silent and walk by his side. There’s a small, warm smile, ever-present on Josuke’s face, like he’s completely at ease. Could he really feel that comfortable around Jotaro after all the time that’s passed since they last saw one another? It seems a little too good to be true, as far as Jotaro’s concerned, but he’s not one to spurn good fortune. It’s a relief to know that, at least for the moment, he has one person here that is glad of his arrival. They wind through long hallways, peeking into empty classrooms, then descend the stairs and sweep around through the massive mess hall.
“Meals are served from 06:00 to 08:00 for breakfast, 12:00 to 13:00 for lunch, and 18:00 to 20:00 for dinner… Snacks and other personal care items can be purchased from the school commissary from 10:00 to 16:00…”
Jotaro doesn’t really care. He wants to get this tour over with so he can spend twenty minutes alone with Josuke and catch up. He’s tired. Jet lagged. His back is sore. His head still hurts. He’s irritable and it’s got to be showing because when Benton turns around to look at the pair of teenagers behind him, his face twitches with what looks to be nervousness. Jotaro arches a brow as Benton stammers through a ‘right this way’ and leads them to the admissions office where Jotaro is made to sit and sign a bunch of paperwork. Josuke hovers in his periphery, hands tucked casually in his pockets, looking at the ceiling rather than paying this incredibly mundane process any kind of attention.
“Mr. Higashikata, I must ask that you step outside so I can discuss a private matter with Mr. Kujo,” Benton says as Jotaro signs the last of the paperwork. Josuke blinks and seems to come back to himself, as if his mind had been a million miles away until his name was called.
“Sure thing, Artie,” Josuke says, giving a lazy little salute. Benton grimaces at him, like he wants to scold Josuke but a quick glance in Josuke’s direction shows Jotaro a sight he’s not accustomed to. Josuke looks smug, like he knows he’s just done something wrong and that he’s going to get away with it. It reminds Jotaro of those moments when Alphas would get snarky with the teachers back home, but knew that they wouldn’t be scolded for their behavior because they were the backbone of the various sports or academic teams that brought the school notoriety. It was a kind of smugness that spoke of privilege.
Just how much Joestar money kept this school afloat?
Jotaro watched Josuke disappear through the big wooden door, snapping it shut behind him. And now Jotaro was once more alone with a stranger and felt the creeping dread that came with such a thing. He’d spent a lot of time in closed rooms with people who wanted to discuss his “incident” over the past month. He was pretty damn tired of it, all told, but this, he hoped, would be the last one for the foreseeable future. Benton threaded his fingers together atop the paperwork on his desk that Jotaro had just finished signing and fixed him with a look that was both serious and sympathetic.
“Mr. Kujo, we were made aware by your father when the application came through as to what occurred at your previous school,” he says, like a doctor delivering bad news, all grave severity with just enough softness to make him seem empathetic to the situation Jotaro was in. Jotaro knew better. He knew people thought he was the problem. The Omega was always the problem. He knew better than to expect real sympathy from anyone other than his mother, and maybe Grandma Suzi.
“We have a very good team of counselors here who are available 24/7,” Benton continues, reaching into his desk to pull out a small packet of papers and a business card. He slides them toward Jotaro, “There is a crisis line, as well as office hours for structured visits. No one here is going to force you to take advantage of these services, but you are not the first, nor will you be the last to come here for similar reasons. We value our student’s safety above all else, which is why we have such strict non-disclosure policies and provide suppressants and blockers to all who attend here. Once a month, the entire school shuts down for a four-day period during which all the rooms are sealed and meals are brought to the students to allow everyone in attendance to peacefully go through their heat and rut cycles without risk of being discovered by other students.”
Jotaro blinks, brows lifting as he lets this information sink in. Jotaro has avoided taking the portion of his suppressants that allowed him to still go through his natural cycle since he started high school. He’d been too afraid of falling behind and missing school, not to mention being discovered. His mother had warned him that it could lead to infertility but Jotaro has never cared about that. He's not interested in being a kept Omega. Barefoot and pregnant sounds so damn miserable. The thought that he’ll be going through heats again for the first time in a few years has his heart thudding awkwardly against his ribs. Is it really safe? Can he really go through with it without being discovered?
“You will be given suppressants on the same schedule as all the other students so that your cycle aligns with everyone else, which will help you maintain your privacy. Your suppressants can be picked up at the campus clinic and instructions have been sent along to your dorm room ahead of you along with your luggage. As you are in the same building as Mr. Higashikata, he will show you the way. Visiting other dorm buildings is not prohibited, but there is a curfew of 21:00 on campus. Any students caught not in their own dorms by curfew will be subject to demerits and in school detention. On the weekends, there are two buses that run from campus into Ipswich so that you may leave the grounds and let off steam. However, the same curfew and rules of conduct apply.”
Benton pulled out yet another packet and dropped it on top of the first:
“All this information is detailed in your student handbook, where you’ll find dress code and scent etiquette regulations as well. I have attached your class schedule to the last page. Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Kujo?”
Jotaro took the hefty stack of stapled paperwork from in front of him and did his best not to let it show just how disinterested he was in everything that was contained in those pages. Most of it was surely common sense. Still, he’d read it. Despite his reputation, Jotaro rarely tried to cause issues. He was just more than happy to resolve them when they occurred.
“No. I think you’ve covered everything. If I need to know something else I’ll just ask Higashikata.”
“Very well then. Enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Kujo. We’re happy to have you,” Benton waves a hand to dismiss Jotaro, and while he sounds fairly genuine, Jotaro is pretty positive that the administration is not pleased in the slightest. Once an Omega goes feral, it’s there, a blemish that marks them as volatile and unpredictable. It’s on his permanent record and he knows it’ll be following him like a dark omen the rest of his life, while the people around him wait and wonder when it will happen again. Not if.
When .
Jotaro excuses himself from the office and steps into the hall, finding Josuke casually leaning against the wall beside the door, one hand in his pocket, the other tapping away on his phone with a look that Jotaro recognizes to be the specific brand of bored serenity that comes with scrolling endlessly down Twitter. Probably looking at pornography, if the way he quickly pockets his phone the second he sees Jotaro is any indication. Jotaro isn’t one to judge. That is pretty much what the internet is for.
“Hey. All set?” Josuke straightens his spine as he speaks, offering up another one of those charming, dimpled smiles and Jotaro finds himself huffing a laugh, smiling right back, as if by call and response. He can’t really help it. Josuke’s always been infectious and it seems that this hasn’t changed in the slightest. It’s hard to feel gloomy when Josuke smiles like that.
“Yeah. Where to?”
“Dorms. This way,” Josuke gestures and starts walking, setting a leisurely pace that is easy to fall into. The halls of the main building are surprisingly empty. Jotaro can only assume this is because most students are in Ipswich, enjoying what little freedom they’re allowed, rather than hanging around the school that they have to see every other day of the week.
“Guess you had to hang back just for my sake,” Jotaro comments. It’s not quite an apology but it’s close enough. Josuke shrugs as if it makes no difference. Even if it is an imposition, he seems wholly unbothered to lose his weekend for Jotaro’s sake.
“No biggie. Not a lot to do in Ipswich anyway. Some of the guys decided to hang back, too. There’s a welcome party waiting in the dorm, so. Be prepared for that.” Josuke shrugs and tucks his hands in his pockets as he walks, his expensive shoes clicking subtly on the pristine floors.
“Welcome party? They don’t even know me.” Jotaro isn’t up for any kind of partying. He’s got tonight and tomorrow to get himself together for classes on Monday. He needs to try and sleep off some of this jet lag and adjust to the new time zone. It feels much later in the day than it actually is and Jotaro just wants to curl up in bed and do fuck all.
“Yeah but I do. And I’m glad you’re here. I think they just kinda got wrapped up in my own excitement. They’re a good time. Pretty chill.” Josuke leans and bumps his shoulder to Jotaro’s as he speaks, and when Jotaro looks at him there’s a faint dusting of pink along his cheeks. His smile has turned sheepish. Shy, even, which seems so unsuited for him.
“You were excited I was coming? Why? We haven’t hung out since we were kids.” Jotaro doesn’t want to be combative, but it’s strange to him to hear Josuke’s been looking forward to this. They don’t really know each other anymore. Not really.
“I think you just answered your own question.” Josuke’s words are accompanied with a wistful laugh, something that whispers of all the missed opportunities to get closer that have piled up over their years apart.
“What? You missed me?” Jotaro shakes his head and snorts in disbelief, his tone bending toward derisive.
“Well duh. You were like. My best friend, dude. Maybe you didn’t see it that way, but when Joseph stopped makin’ the trip out there I was pretty heartbroken. Used to look forward to summer. Not so much anymore.” Josuke holds the door open for Jotaro and then steps out after him. The breeze feels nice, the sunshine isn’t too oppressive, and walking the grounds, being in open air that doesn’t carry any lingering pheromones or the scent of wood polish is a relief Jotaro hadn’t realized he’d needed.
“It’s ‘cause he and my dad hate each other.” Jotaro doesn’t really know why he says it. It would have been more appropriate to say that he’d missed Josuke, too. He’s not sure that would be true, but it’s also not a lie. Jotaro misses the simplicity of their childhood, of scuffling together in the back yard, or playing complicated games with rules that made sense to them and no one else in the way that only small children can. He misses the feeling of friendship. It’s been a long time since he’s had such a thing.
“Yeah. I know. Feels pretty shitty, to keep us apart just because they can’t stow their personal beef.” Josuke kicks a stray rock off the walking path and into the well-manicured grass that makes up most of the grounds. There’s a hunch to his shoulders now, a distance to his gaze as he stares ahead into the middle distance. Jotaro wishes he’d just said he missed Josuke, too.
“Well. I’m here now, I guess.” It’s a piss poor attempt, but Jotaro gives it. Josuke glances his way and smiles but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.
“Yep.” Josuke pops the final consonant and gives a nod that makes his hair bounce. Jotaro doesn’t know what more he can say.
The lull in conversation feels a little heavy, but the silence lasts until they reach the dormitory building.