Chapter Text
Two decades ago, the Omega Rights Movement demanded an overhaul of Omega treatment and protection in the state of Japan. Similar movements were happening across the world. The trafficking of young, virgin Omegas had become common, though hushed, knowledge. It was not unusual for Omegas, both unbonded and bonded, to be taken off the street and sold into prostitution. When a child presented Omega, usually around the age of fifteen, it was standard practice for them to be moved to a homeschooled environment, simply to prevent fights between adolescent Alphas over them in school. An Omega college graduate was a rare spectacle. The percentage of Omegas unmated by age twenty was less than 7%.
In answer to the growing pressure, both internationally and internally, the Japanese government organized a civil reconstruction of public Dynamic interactions. The police were dispatched in force to break up the trafficking rings and prostitution houses. New curriculums were implemented for Dynamic education and training. And dozens of new security measures were instituted to ensure Omega safety and equality. While the laws were numerous, three main changes became writ in an Omega’s life.
- No unbonded Omega could be found in public space without the supervision of a state-licensed Beta chaperone.
- All adult, unmated Omegas would spend their heat in a certified stayhouse.
- Unmated, presented Omegas of any age registered with a matching agency and interviewed prospective Alpha mates weekly.
For the majority of Omegas worldwide, these changes and restrictions led to a great improvement in available opportunities and life choices. Of course, those activities which had once been common practice, simply moved back into the shadows. Omega disappearances decreased from daily to monthly. Most people forgot that Omegas were once considered only breeding stock for the taking. Most new generation Omegas never even worried about being kidnapped off the street. And most never begrudged the security measures instituted for their safety.
Light Yagami was not one of those Omegas.
Light sipped his coffee, carefully tilting the newspaper to get a better look at the small follow-up piece tucked in at the bottom. No new developments.
He’d already known the NPA had hit a roadblock from his father’s case files. But there was always a chance the press would find some hot new tip. Or just make one up. Their creative interpretation of stories had proved surprisingly useful on several occasions over the last few years; they told Light what was unimportant, by virtue of accurate reporting, and what was being hushed up, by what was omitted or altered.
Light folded the paper and downed the rest of his coffee in a single gulp. He rose to leave the little café, his current favorite, and headed towards his ‘office’.
Technically, he worked from home, only calling his Beta nanny, Kite, two or three times a week. Since his formal address was one of the more tricked out Omega apartment complexes around Tokyo, Kite didn’t find it so odd that Light rarely went out. Usually their trips involved shopping, visits to Light’s family, the occasional restaurant, and, of course, mating interviews. Kite was blissfully content with his easy charge, never thinking that Light had a fun little secret passage exit from the basement. (Technically a forgotten, abandoned air-raid shelter the complex had run into when it bulldozed its way in and the entire reason Light had rented the apartment in the first place.)
Light may have found it a little too European-castle clichéd, but it worked.
He navigated the lunch-busy streets, drawing more than a few eyes with his lithe, graceful form. But since he didn’t smell like an Omega, the eyes quickly slid away from him. He grinned; those Omega pheromone inhibitors were expensive (and illegal), but worth every penny.
The To-Oh grad had played to his across-the-board brilliance after graduation (first Omega ever) and made some key investments to guarantee his financial independence. Light checked them every morning, occasionally making adjustments, so in Kite’s defense, the Omega really did work from home. It was just that Light’s official job only took about an hour of his time.
His unofficial job, took a bit more effort.
Light didn’t even look up as he crossed the threshold into the Nonaka Tower. It was illegal for him, as an Omega, to own or work in a space like this, without proper vetting and safety installations. Most Omegas found the process too much of a hassle, so almost all businesses in the downtown area were populated solely by Alphas and Betas. Light cynically wondered if the government had realized how segregated the populations would become after the reconstruction.
He winked at the secretary from seven, as he boarded the crowded elevator. He pressed the button for 18, and offered a friendly nod to the lawyers from twenty five.
“Hey Killua,” the dark haired one greeted. Light catalogued his name as Victor. “You ever gonna join us for bowling night at the Badger?”
“Miku warned me you were trying to hustle the building,” Light said, cheekily, “I think I’d like to keep my money.”
“Aw, I’ll only take a little. Those boys should be paying you ten times what I’d take off you.”
“If that’s truly how the math breaks down, I believe I’ll have to pass, gentlemen.”
Light gave them a mocking salute as he ducked out onto floor eighteen, disappearing down the hall. He’d run background checks on everyone in the building, and knew that Victor’s bowling nights usually ended with a visit to an Omega strip club. Nothing illegal, but less than tempting for an Omega avoiding having his scent aroused. Those places were designed to scream SEX .
But, if it had been an Alpha strip club… Well, that was something Light just might have risked seeing. His pheromone suppressants wouldn’t be overly taxed, if he was merely trying not to crack up at the sight of a dominating Alpha shaking his ass.
Light sighed as he flicked on the lights to Freecss and Netero Financial LLC. It was well known that neither Freecss nor Netero ever came to their small Japanese office (and less well known that they never would, as only Light knew that they didn’t exist), but the lights made it seem like their accountant, Killua Zoldyck, was ever bubbly and reliably present. Though everyone knew those partners had the poor Beta running near constant errands.
Light ducked back into the hall and climbed a single flight of stairs. The offices at the bend in the hall on floor 19 were out of sight and rarely visited, as the space had been rented by a reclusive artist, lucky enough to have a wealthy patron to pay for the studio. An oddity in a building full of financial and legal types, but keeping with the Tower’s motto of promoting diverse business.
There was a ceramics studio on the second floor, and a dentist’s office on the third, for heaven's’ sake. The mixture of professions made it just that much easier for an undercover Omega to blend in.
It was considered normal for the door to the Morow Studio to be locked twenty four hours a day, not that anyone ever came down to that little far corner to check it. Even the maintenance staff had been requested not to disturb the artist’s ambiance. Occasionally, the man would hang one of his new paintings in the floor’s elevator lobby.
Light chuckled as he remembered talking with the boss of floor twenty. The bigwig was certain the kid was doomed to failure, and his poor patron was a conned fool. Light had been slightly offended at the time; he worked hard on those paintings.
Well, sort of…
Light carefully let himself into the studio, taking care to disarm the wire behind the door, so as not to activate the trap that would fry the entire network of surveillance tech, hidden behind a few of the artist’s strategically placed gallery walls. The system was also designed to look like an art installation at first glance; not likely to fool anyone long term, but might buy a small window of opportunity, if the studio was ever compromised.
The Omega hummed in contentment as he stepped into his real office. Complete with espresso machine and overstuffed arm chair. (Sometimes Light succumbed and indulged his Omega nature. Just a little bit.)
It wasn’t that he didn’t respect the laws mandating him to be accompanied by a Beta like Kite at all times. It was just that it was a lot harder to do illegal crime fighting activities in the presence of a government official.
So to work.
First objective, turn on the coffee. (Light was not ashamed to admit he was an addict, and he cheerfully blamed his last semester at To-Oh for it. He’d kept the small vice when he realized it made him seem more approachable.)
He settled into his seat and got down to work. He needed to find the routes the Yggdrassill family was using to smuggle their goods in and out of the city. Light knew he shouldn’t be referring to kidnapped members of his Dynamic as ‘goods’, but he’d had too many experiences with being just a little too late and seeing the corpses of the victims he couldn’t save in his father’s case files the day after. Therefore, he refused to let himself think of them as people, until he could be sure they’d live.
It was just too depressing otherwise. And Light really hated to lose.
By all accounts and statistics, Kanto was a fantastic place for Omegas to live. Most places were nowadays. But Light Yagami had grown up as the police chief’s son and had become intimately familiar with the distinctly unsafe sides of being an Omega.
The Yggdrassill family, for instance.
They were an international organization, and were somehow running a trafficking ring through Tokyo. Weapons, drugs, and humans all counted as inventory in the Yggdrassill logbooks. They specialized in supplying Omegas to wealthy buyers, but also tractable Betas, for both sex and muscle.
Light grinned darkly at the monitor, recalling the look on Shishio Yggdrassill’s face when the NPA descended upon his motorized enclave, arresting him and his son. They’d also rescued three Omega teens from the trunk in the process. The mug shot was now set as his background.
All possible because of countless hours of electronic investigating and lesser bits of actual legwork, compiled by what the family would label as a helpless, breedable commodity.
Anonymously of course.
Omegas were banned from field law enforcement for obvious reasons. He’d seen the two Omegas in his father’s precinct - glorified secretaries. Even if they tried, they were shunted away from real cases; all to protect their precious Omega innocence.
So rather than find himself in a dead end job with a hundred cops looking over his shoulder, the gifted brunette had hired himself as an independent private investigator. He could afford it and the puzzles crime solving presented were some of the few things he could hurl his intellect at full force. Plus he got the added bonus of absolutely wrecking the lives of Alphas like the Yggdrassills, who perpetuated the reasons for the discrimination against his Dynamic.
Light rolled his shoulders, ready for another long day of research and tracking. He would have to go out tonight to follow up his most promising leads, but he’d be damned if the rest of that family walked free.
He grinned behind his coffee mug as his personal system greeted him.
“Welcome back, Kira.”
L glared at the city sprawling out beneath the jet’s wing - Tokyo lacked the abundance of patisseries that he’d become accustomed to in Paris. The detective sat perched on the seat cushion, occasionally taking a bite of the red velvet cake balanced on his knees, as he made a mental aerial map of the region surrounding the airport.
It was nearing sunset, as the plane began its descent towards the private runway.
“L, I have Chief Inspector Yagami.”
“Thank you, Watari. Patch him through.”
The laptop screen on the table in front of him was suddenly filled with the face of an aging Alpha, sitting straight-backed at his desk in the NPA headquarters. L could hear the unidentifiable crackle of commotion on the other end. Busy day? He noted the haggard circles under the inspector’s eyes.
Welcome to my world, Mr. Yagami.
“Chief Yagami,” L opened, knowing the man could only see the large, gothic L on his end. “Any progress on the locating the missing Omegas?”
When L had first taken the case, he had expected to be able to solve it from his vacation condo in France.
But whoever was distributing XoXo was clever. He was both amused and annoyed that the criminals were cunning enough to lure him away from Angelina’s heavenly macarons.
How quickly the case had spiraled from simply locating the most probable synthesis labs, to tracking a rather large handful of missing Omegas being used as incubator test subjects was an almost poetic practice in unraveling the criminal mind. The detective was pleased to have a challenge; even though it brought him into closer contact with Omegas than he really ever wanted to be.
L had calculated that an Omega’s natural scent led to a 8% decrease in his deductive reasoning capabilities. Add in any form of distressed (or heat) scent, and that percentage increased four fold. Omegas were a veritable liability when the world’s greatest detective just wanted to solve the puzzle.
Luckily, most of his work was done behind a computer screen, so the Alpha rarely had cause to lower his intelligence with actual human interaction. This case was rapidly becoming a nettlesome exception.
L took another bite of cake.
“Yes, earlier this afternoon, we were able to rescue two Omegas being transported through privately owned properties within the city.”
The detective’s fork clattered to the ground. How had they found them? Oh right, fork... He bit back a growl, at the complication this brought to finishing his cake. Fingers it was.
“How did you find them?”
“We received another anonymous tip…” The chief hesitated and L’s eyes narrowed. He knew where this was going.
“Kira, based on the similarities to his previous communications. Following the lead, however, we were able to intercept two of the trucks carrying the Omegas. The two we found have been identified as Marisella Figueroa and Natalia Krasko.”
“Where are they now?”
“The suspects are in custody and awaiting interrogation. The victims are at Takanawa Hospital. We have trauma specialists on site for when they wake up.”
“Move the suspects to a secure location immediately. Do not begin interrogations until I instruct you to.”
L ran his thumb over his lip as he watched the chief transmit his orders to his people. So Kira interferes again, huh? The older Alpha eventually looked back to the giant 'L' on his screen.
“Chief Yagami, what is your impression of Kira?”
The man’s eyes widened slightly and he coughed.
“He is intelligent. Based on the usual type of information he provides, ‘Kira’ is likely a hacker whose methods are less than legal, and therefore he hides behind the pseudonym. However, he has delivered photos that could only have been taken in person, so he likely conducts his own field work. His communications with the police are always short and untraceable, but obvious in their intent. He seems to be on our side.” The chief swallowed. “My personal opinion is that he is a brilliant detective.”
L smirked. So you want to play my game, KIra? Careful, it’s a dangerous one…
“Inspector Yagami, there is a 75% chance that Kira is a prominent figure within the underworld himself, as many of his ‘anonymous’ tips contain information only a higher up in one of the mob packs would know.”
“Then why would he continually contact the police?” the man on the monitor challenged, folding his arms. Politely. L rolled his eyes.
It seemed Kira was popular among the NPA. Interesting…
However, L was relatively confident that Kira was not, as the police seemed to believe, a ‘good guy’. For that to be true and for Kira to also provide the kind of information he did, the man would have to have be nearly as intelligent as L himself. Possible. But unlikely.
“The most obvious reason is that he wishes to cripple his competition. It is also conceivable, though improbable, that Kira suffers from a mental dissociative disorder, leading him to occasionally need to reach out to the police with what he knows. The fact that he has left the calling card of ‘Kira’ suggests he seeks recognition and distinction for his efforts, likely from a compulsive need for admiration. Regardless, the odds of Kira not being involved at least tangentially with the underworld is less than 5%, and, as I said before, it is highly likely he holds a position of power.”
The chief shifted uncomfortably in the screen, and L contained a snort of amusement.
“However, my concern is the Yggdrassill’s production of XoXo, not Kira. I will expect a full reports on your potential suspects’ activities. Since the head of the family is behind bars, someone must have stepped up to take over operations.”
“Very well,” the older Alpha nodded, “I will have it emailed to you by tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you Chief Yagami. Please ensure that no word of the drug being transported with the Omegas is leaked. Do not include it in your reports or files. We do not want to do the mob’s advertising for them.”
Chief Yagami nodded again, and L disconnected the call. He felt the landing gear open and prepared to arrive in Japan.
He wondered how Kira would feel about the world’s greatest detective coming to play in his city. Despite L’s words to the chief, his gut told him not to ignore that 5% chance that Kira was simply the single most brilliant vigilante alive.
I suppose if I have time, I’ll have to see just how clever you really are, L thought, finishing the last of his cake.