Chapter Eighteen

Elizabeth Kobayashi was generally a plain looking woman, quite lanky and tall but with silken long hair that flowed down her back like a waterfall.  Otherwise her eyes that were a muddy brown were uninteresting and her features that were not ugly did not stand out in any other way.  Her height was likely the only other thing to make her noticeable in a crowd, otherwise, she would have blended completely within it.  However, this woman now stood in a spotlight of controversy as she had paired and married one of the hottest Hollywood actor's currently in existence.

In a photograph of the pair standing side by side, she was as tall as her boyishly handsome man while wearing kitten heels and a silver sheen dress that hung from her narrow shoulders and managed to make her look quite formless. The matching silver collar about her swan-like neck was very obvious as well. The comments from critiques and her husband's fans, both green-eyed and otherwise open minded were the same; this pair just did not seem to match well.

And yet, in the same photograph, the woman's plain eyes seemed to come to life as they beheld the man standing beside her with his genuinely joyful smile and Ichiro believed that she looked beautiful.

The not so flattering photograph, paired with a few other pictures of both man and woman happened to appear in a magazine along with a question and answer type interview from them. In it, Torin mentioned his fans; thanking those who continued to support him and also offered in turn support for his marriage and bride, while spurning those who would send his wife disgusting hate mail and troll messages. "I do not need that type of fan," he stated.

Ichiro closed the magazine and placed it back on the shelf with the others before opening another package of magazines and filling the spot where they were located. The excess magazines were placed upon a narrow trolley and wheeled into the small warehouse attached to the back of the store.

After more attempts than he could count, Ichiro managed to find himself a small part time job in a convenience store. The shop was owned by a man and his wife, the former happened to be particularly stingy, happy to flout laws such as minimum wage and income tax, just to scrap as much profit from his small store as possible. Thus Ichiro was paid a pittance in cash at the end of each week with no wage slip. However, Ichiro had been desperate, his savings were now empty due to a flurry of bills and the new rental payment.

Having finished filling the magazines, he gathered boxes of confection and crisps next, before the owner yelled at him to look at the section of canned goods. Ichiro agreed without hesitation, ignoring the ache in his feet as grabbing a break was pretty much impossible in this store. Only the owner, as he sat at the register reading a paper or watching clips of comedians on his tablet, was allowed to rest during his shifts.

The man's wife entered the store, heading straight for the register to wheedle some money from her husband; she wanted to go shopping with 'the girls'. The owner looked reluctant, not even wanting to part with the cash in the til on the request of his 'beloved' wife. Ichiro didn't know if the woman actually worked, only that he'd never seen her work in the store. In fact, this was the second time he'd seen her and both times she was after funds for her purse. And just as the previous time, she wheedled her husband out of a handful of notes before leaving satisfied.

The owner was clearly not satisfied and pushed Ichiro to stack shelves faster, while he returned to reading his paper.

*****

A tired and weary Ichiro locked up the Hall after leading a small group of women and a young man, through self-defence exercises.  Glancing up the road, he couldn't help but feel sorry for himself as he pushed his body into a slow run, thinking that the distance between the dilapidated Hall and his apartment never seemed so long.  And wouldn't you know it, the elevator had broken down again.  His muscles complained bitterly as he dragged himself up the numerous flights of stairs.

Almost three weeks had passed since he'd managed to secure a second job and almost two weeks had passed since he'd last seen Zandre.  While his weekdays had been filled with stacking shelves between eight and four before rushing to the Hall to set up classes and his weekends were classes, an evening shift stocking shelves and running the til as well as more of the same on Sunday with just the afternoon given him to wind down, Zee's training had intensified, in addition he'd been sought by an entertainment agency wanting to use his name, good body and face for their own purposes.  They still texted from time to time, but although Ichiro was not completely willing to admit the fact out loud, he did miss the Alpha's presence... just a little bit.

Call it a side effect due to their compatible pheromones (Ichiro would never say it was down to any pairing of fate), but the Omega couldn't help but feel completely comfortable and relaxed in the other's presence.  All his tensions, worries and fears melted into insignificance when he stood next to the larger man, as if his very aura could cleanse Ichiro's own.  Even the painful memories that he'd kept locked inside him stemming from coming out as an Omega seemed to no longer scratch incessantly at his mind like the tip of a tiny thorn stuck in a sock scrapping against sensitive skin of his foot.  They were still there, still a part of his being, but they no longer seemed a bother.  What others thought of him, he couldn't control, yet why was it only when an overbearing, persistent Alpha barged into his life had he come to really accept this?

Fuck, he must be tired if he is thinking about such things.  Stupid Alpha, its all his fault any way.  He'd had no problem continuing the status quo; enjoying his days, teaching his classes and supplementing his income by entertaining women, who were independent, but occasionally felt lonely.  Struggling with money, exhausting himself to this point for it and no longer being able to look nor touch a woman, it was definitely that man's fault.

So what if being near him felt comfortable and the stolen kisses pressed upon him were beyond comparable with those he'd shared with the girls to the point that the sensation continued to haunt him in his dreams.  After that man had claimed his lips for the first time, Ichiro had vowed that he would not let the irrepressible Alpha claim a second one and yet that bastard had forced his plush, juicy lips over Ichiro's before letting the Omega leave his car to return home, Ichiro had been powerless to refuse him.  In fact, Ichiro's body had shivered in his grasp, but it was not with distaste.

The same phenomenon had occurred during a brief meeting on the following Saturday, when Ichiro was moving between work places and Zandre had dropped by to see him.  Ichiro did not turn down the lift that was offered; he'd just had two classes that morning with little ones and not so little ones.  A spring cold had caught a hold of many, so some children didn't show and there was much more wiping noses and sneezing than martial arts movements amongst those who had, but somehow this had proven to be just as tiring.  Once more, after winding through the streets to the convenience store, Zandre had insisted on a kiss in payment.  Ichiro's body had been far from pushing him away, froze instead to prevent its owner from denying what it wanted, what it anticipated even.  And it had felt so good.

No... not good, he stubbornly grumbled to himself as he reached the last flight of stairs.  A sigh of relief slipped from his lips and he dragged the exhausted him up those last few steps and reached for his keys, unlocked the door and stumbled in.  The sound of laughter reached his ears, the childish high pitch tone of his little brother as well as a deep rumbling tone that caused his soul to shiver in delight.  Taking his shoes off and placing them besides the boats that did not belong in the small hallway, he shut the front door behind him and attempted a nonchalant walk into the living area of the apartment.  Sure enough, two Omega's, one small, one not so small and one very large Alpha with the skin tone of rich, varnished mahogany, scented like freshly cut teak and pine sat upon the old sofa and chair, drinking coffee.

He feebly fought against the two large hands that grabbed his waist and drew him onto a warm, welcoming lap.  He complained that Zandre's thighs were too hard and uncomfortable, but maybe his pleas were too weak as all he received for his complaints was a bright, knowing grin from the cheeky youngest teen and a look of indulgence from an irrepressible Alpha.  Ichiro looked sharply away, his expression discontent, but he still happened to take a deep breath in of the scent of the body holding him and allow its therapeutical properties to ease and comfort him.

"I feel extraneous," Jiro muttered and pushed himself from the sofa, heading the couple of steps to his computer.  He had homework to complete and while it wasn't due for a week, didn't mean that he would rather watch the games between his stupid brother and his future brother-in-law. And he should really go online and check to see how that was working out...

Saburo giggled and asked Ichiro if he wanted coffee.  "Make it a decaf," Zee said before Ichiro could reply, though it sounded more like a demand than a suggestion.

"Oi," Ichiro pouted.  "Why can't I have a normal coffee?"

A calloused finger gently stroked the delicate skin below Ichiro's eyes.  "Coffee will keep you up too late," he replied, softly, "and you look as if you could do with the sleep.  You are working too much."

"I have bills to pay," Ichiro reminded him.  Zandre sighed inwardly, but didn't offer him money.  His Omega's pride had already been worn thin by himself, by the fact that he was Male and clearly more dominant in this relationship that Ichiro never wanted nor could easily accept.   Zee didn't want the remainder to shatter; Ichiro's pride, his stubbornness, his determination, they were all a part of the charm that Zee was falling for.  Yes he wanted him, wanted to clearly define and move beyond the ambiguous nature of their current relationship, but he didn't want to break Ichiro while doing so.

"I know," Zandre pressed his lips against the other's forehead and watch as the man's cheeks became stained by natural rouge.  "I should pick you up next time." He would have collected him this time, but this visit had been on the spur of the moment, following the last training session and subsequent meetings before an important league game.  He'd only actually arrived a few minutes before the man he had desperately wanted to see, would have likely missed him if he'd taken to the winding roads that led to that old building Ichiro used as a dojo.

"No need," Ichiro failed to hide his yawn behind his hand and subconsciously leaned against the Alpha, his head nestling upon the other man's shoulder as his eyes began to lose focus.

Saburo watched from where he stood in the kitchen preparing drinks and some white fish and rice for Ichiro's late meal.  He smiled to himself as he amused himself thinking about potential outfits for his oldest brother's wedding.  He didn't believe that the ceremony would be too far into the future after all...