The Omega is a Novelist

Chapter Two

     The Oshiro family were an old elite family with political connections. Lawyers, judges, politicians, these were the sorts of positions that their sons and daughters were expected to aspire to. The current matriarch was once a respected judge, her deceased husband a politician and her daughter a lawyer. Her son-in-law, who had married into the family and taken the name as his own was an astute business man, dealing mainly in the financial world. All of the Oshiro's were Alphas. As expected, Alpha children were born to the couple, first a female, then a male. But the Oshiro's had a secret that they attempted to hide within the shadows of their household; a second boy had been born to them and that boy was an Omega.

     Hideaki Oshiro didn't understand what that meant, he only had ever wanted to play with the baby that was his brother, younger by four years. His sister had always ignored him and he had found it hard to make friends at the private elementary school his parents sent him too. But the baby had to like him, right? "Mother, where's the baby?" He recalled asking one evening some time after the swelling of his mother had vanished.

     "It's asleep," his mother replied shortly, while sipping at her morning coffee.

    "What's his name?" He asked, innocently.

      "It doesn't have a name," she told him.

      "Why?"

      "It doesn't need a name," her voice contained a sharp edge that he'd never heard before.

      "What should I call him then?" He asked, confused. "Mother, when can I play with the baby?"

      A horrified expression spread across her usually composed features. "Let's not talk about that now. How was school today?"

      Hideaki was gently distracted for a short time, but it did not take long for his curiosity to take hold once more. Less than a week later, he snuck from his room and wandered down the corridors following the helpless cries of the baby as they echoed through the night. The nursery was far from the families sleeping quarters, a heartlessly plain room that contained nothing but a cot. Squirming beneath his blankets, the baby's face was red and eyes wet from crying, the mop of dark hair on his head sticky to touch. But the young Hideaki was completely enchanted, nonetheless. He poked his chubby fingers through the bars of the cot to touch the baby's soft skin. Instinctively, perhaps, the baby reached for him, his tears temporarily abated as he sought for the warmth of his brother. The baby snuffled for a bit, before falling into an exhausted slumber. Hideaki simply watched what seemed like for hours, but was probably only minutes before he returned to his own bed.

      His visits to the baby's room did not end there, but he sensed from the attitude of his parents and the servants that he should definitely keep them a secret. He was happy, though, when he found out that the baby had finally been given a name; Yori.

      But the happiness he shared with his brother was not to last. It was not long after Yori's second birthday; he had been so excited about giving Yori the picture he had painted at school as a gift, he hadn't expected his parents to be home early that day. He didn't hear them as they called, while bounding up the stairway towards the distant room his brother was confined in. Yori had looked up at him from where he sat, playing with one of the old picture books Hideaki had slipped into his possession once and offered the small rare smile reserved only for his brother.

      "Look what I have!" Hideaki had boasted, rummaging around in his backpack for the precious picture. The door behind them slammed open, a look of fear swept across the younger boy's face, before Hideaki had turned to see his outraged parents standing above him. A slap smarted his cheeks, though he was too shocked to feel the pain, before he was dragged from the room, his picture all but forgotten.