The bell jingled again, and with it something in the air eased. The store seemed suddenly larger, quieter – empty in a way Yahiko told himself was only relief. He exhaled, finally letting his shoulders drop.

The rest of the shift passed quietly. The storm drummed outside; inside, only the hum of the freezers broke the stillness.

Near closing time Sumimoto-san stepped out from the staff room, wiping his hands on a towel. “No more customers tonight, I guess.” He glanced at Yahiko and paused. “Ah, Takahaya-kun – you have something on your neck. Did you stain it during work?”

“Oh… maybe,” Yahiko said quickly, tugging his collar and lifting a hand to cover the spot. “I’ll just go wash up.”

“Sure.” The shop owner nodded, though his eyes lingered for a second as Yahiko all but hurried to the back.

In the changing room Yahiko peeled off the damp bandage. It was useless now – soaked through from the earlier rain and sweat, edges frayed and torn. He stared at the dark mark visible on his skin, a sigh slipping out before he tossed the ruined bandage into the bin.

He tried to adjust his school shirt, raising the collar higher, even smoothing the fabric with damp fingers, but the humidity kept it from holding. Finally he gave up and decided simply to keep a hand at the back of his neck, as if easing a stiff muscle.

When he returned to the front, most of the lights were off, leaving only the soft glow of freezer cases and a faint line of light along the shelves. The windows rattled softly with rain.

Sumimoto-san stood by the door, keys in hand. “This weather is something else. Let’s hope we get home without trouble.”

“Yeah,” Yahiko agreed quietly.

As the man turned to unlock the door, something in the umbrella stand caught his eye. “Hm? Isn’t that your helper’s umbrella? The man who helped with the sign?”

Yahiko frowned. “Could be… maybe you’re right.”

“Strange it’s still here,” Sumimoto-san said, surprised. “Usually anything left like that on a rainy night disappears quickly. Lucky for him it looks pricey – no one grabbed it.” He picked it up and gave a small approving nod. “We can use it to get to the car.”

Yahiko nodded. Together they stepped out into the warm downpour. The heavy rain muffled every sound but its own as they hurried to the car and started toward home.

The streets were nearly empty, most people already home before the typhoon hit. Raindrops trailed along the car windows, blurring the lights outside. Yahiko sat with one hand at the back of his neck, staring out as if the night scenery deserved his full attention.

When they finally pulled up to his building, Sumimoto-san cut the engine but didn’t reach for the door. Instead, he spoke calmly, eyes forward.

“That wasn’t just a stain on your neck, was it?”

Yahiko’s fingers tightened on the door handle. “I… just got dirty somewhere,” he said quickly.

“My wife has an omega friend,” Sumimoto went on, voice even. “She’s told me more than I ever needed to know about marks. That wasn’t a high schooler’s mark.”

Yahiko froze, a chill crawling down his spine. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sumimoto turned to him now, eyes steady. “A mark like that could only be made by an adult alpha. It’s darker, larger – no makeup can hide it. And the bond it creates isn’t something you can break.”

Cold sweat prickled along Yahiko’s back. He clenched the handle tighter, words stuck in his throat.

Sumimoto’s voice softened, but stayed firm. “I have to ask, Takahaya-kun. Was that mark given with your consent?”

Silence stretched. For a long heartbeat, Yahiko stayed motionless. Then he slowly turned, meeting the man’s gaze. “Yes,” he said quietly but clearly. “I asked for it. I had my reasons.”

The two of them sat in heavy silence. Then Sumimoto exhaled, opened the glove box, and pulled out a clean roll of bandage. “Then you’d better keep it as it was.”

Yahiko accepted the bandage, wrapped it carefully around his neck, and opened the door. “Thank you,” he said softly.

“Hold on.” Sumimoto reached into the basket by the seat and lifted a dark umbrella. “Don’t forget this. I think you’ll need it more tonight.”

Yahiko nodded, took the umbrella, and stepped out into the warm, rain-slick night. Puddles splashed beneath his feet as he crossed to his building.

The moment Yahiko stepped inside, warmth met him like a wave. The smell of soup, rice, and something sweet drifted through the air – so different from the cold rain outside.

“Yahiko! Don’t come in all wet!” his grandma’s voice came from the living room.

He smiled faintly. “Yes, gran!”

He left the umbrella by the door, started taking off his shoes, when soft steps approached.

“Wait a minute,” she said, appearing in the hallway with a towel in her hands. “You’re soaked through, here.”

“I’ll be fine,” he started, but she just pressed the towel into his hands making him grin a little. “Thanks.”

“Dry up, then go shower. There’s soup and meatballs waiting – I’ll heat them up. Go on, before you catch a cold. It’s getting chilly tonight.”

“Okay, okay,” he said with a small laugh, rubbing his hair.

He went upstairs and stepped under the hot water. The steam filled the small bathroom, and for the first time that day, his muscles began to relax. The steady drumming of rain on the balcony roof blended with the quiet hum of the shower.

He wrapped the bandage around his neck again afterward, watching himself in the mirror. Sumimoto-san’s words echoed in his mind. He hadn’t been wrong. That wasn’t the mark of a student.

He’d read enough forums and articles to know what such marks could do – the strange warmth, the confusion, the bond that lingered even when people tried to ignore it.

But this wasn’t like that, was it? Hayashi-senpai wasn’t some young alpha overcome by instinct. He was calm, distant, responsible. There was no bond – not physical, not emotional. It was just… practical. Necessary. From every logical angle, it looked like a perfect arrangement.

At least, that’s what Yahiko kept telling himself.

But deep down, it didn’t feel that simple anymore.