Friday afternoon, Xiaoran's shift at Encore Café was supposed to be easy—three hours of making coffee, taking orders, and studying between customers during the slow period. He'd picked up the part-time job two weeks ago, needing the extra money and appreciating the café's proximity to campus. The owner, a kind woman in her fifties named Auntie Wang, was flexible about scheduling around classes and didn't mind if he did homework during downtime.
It was supposed to be easy. Uncomplicated. Just another normal Friday.
The first warning sign came around 2 PM, about an hour into his shift. A sudden wave of heat that had nothing to do with the espresso machine, accompanied by hypersensitivity that made his work apron feel like sandpaper against his skin.
No. Not again. Not this soon.
Dr. Chen had adjusted his suppressant regimen after the last incident, creating a schedule that should allow minor cycles while preventing full heat episodes. But it had only been ten days. His next cycle wasn't supposed to happen for at least another month.
Xiaoran's hands shook as he prepared a cappuccino for a customer, nearly spilling the milk. He forced himself to smile, to complete the transaction normally, to act like everything was fine even as panic clawed up his throat.
"Xiaoran? You okay?" His coworker, a third-year Beta student named Liu Ming, was looking at him with concern. "You just went really pale."
"I'm fine. Just felt dizzy for a second." The lie came automatically. "Maybe I need to eat something."
"Take your break early if you need to. It's slow right now."
Xiaoran nodded gratefully and retreated to the café's small break room, immediately pulling out his phone to check his suppressant schedule. He'd taken his morning dose on time at 8 AM. He'd been following Dr. Chen's protocol exactly. This shouldn't be happening.
Unless his body was rejecting the new medication regimen too. Unless the damage from four months of continuous suppressant overuse had fundamentally disrupted his hormone regulation. Unless he was losing control of his own biology despite all his careful management.
The second wave hit harder, and Xiaoran bit back a whimper. His scent was definitely intensifying—he could smell the magnolia fragrance himself now, sweet and overwhelming in the small break room. Any Alphas in the café would notice soon. He needed to leave, get somewhere safe, take emergency suppressants and hope they worked better than last time.
He pulled out his suppressant case with shaking hands, extracting one of the high-dose emergency pills. The warning label seemed to mock him: *Not for regular use. Maximum one dose per month.* He'd taken one ten days ago. Taking another now was medically inadvisable. But the alternative was going into full heat in a public café.
Xiaoran swallowed the pill and tried to breathe through the panic. Fifteen to twenty minutes for it to take effect. He could make it fifteen minutes. He just needed to stay in the break room, away from customers, until his scent settled and the heat subsided.
His phone buzzed. Multiple messages flooding in:
Zhou Mei: *Study session at 4? Library?*
Zhang Wei: *Yo, did you see the video I sent in the group chat? This cat is doing PARKOUR.*
Chen Lili: *Can you check if the café has that fancy oolong tea? I want to try it but don't want to walk over there if they're out.*
And then, incongruously, from Zhao Jintao: *I know you're working at Encore Café today. We need to talk. I'll stop by during your shift. You can't avoid me forever.*
Ice flooded through Xiaoran's heat-fogged brain. Jintao knew his work schedule. Was coming here. While Xiaoran was going into heat despite medication, while his scent was becoming unmanageable, while he was maximally vulnerable.
He needed to leave. Right now.
Xiaoran stood up too quickly, the room spinning. He caught himself against the break room wall, breathing hard. The third wave was building—stronger than the previous two, suggesting the emergency suppressant wasn't working fast enough or wasn't going to work at all.
He made it back to the main café area on unsteady legs. Liu Ming took one look at him and moved toward him with concern.
"Xiaoran, you look terrible. You should go home. I can handle the café until Auntie Wang arrives at 4."
"I need to—" Xiaoran started to agree, but movement at the café entrance made the words die in his throat.
Zhao Jintao pushed through the door with his characteristic confident stride, scanning the café until his eyes landed on Xiaoran. His expression shifted immediately as he caught the magnolia scent—surprise, then recognition, then something predatory that made Xiaoran's stomach clench with fear.
"Xiaoran!" Jintao's voice was warm, friendly to external observers, but Xiaoran heard the possessive undertone. "I've been trying to reach you. We really need to talk."
Several other customers had noticed the scent too—three Alphas scattered throughout the café, all turning toward the source with varying degrees of interest. The atmosphere shifted, tension building as biology overrode social convention.
"I don't want to talk to you," Xiaoran said, his voice coming out weaker than intended. He gripped the counter for support. "You have a no-contact directive. You need to leave."
"That directive is ridiculous and you know it. We have history, Xiaoran. That means something." Jintao was moving closer, and the other Alphas in the café were shifting as well, attention focusing on the Omega in the beginning stages of heat. "Let me help you. You're clearly not well. I can take you somewhere safe."
"Stay away from me." Xiaoran backed up, but there was nowhere to go—the counter was behind him, Jintao in front, and the other Alphas beginning to stand, biological imperatives overriding conscious control.
Liu Ming moved between Xiaoran and Jintao, his Beta scent neutral but his body language protective. "Sir, he's asked you to leave. You need to respect that."
"This is between me and my Omega," Jintao said, his Alpha presence flooding the space with territorial aggression. "This isn't your concern."
"I'm not your Omega," Xiaoran gasped out. "I was never your Omega. You need to leave."
The café door opened again. Xiaoran's heat-addled brain registered cedar-and-paper scent before consciously recognizing who'd entered. Lin Yuze stood in the doorway, taking in the scene with sharp intelligence—Xiaoran obviously in distress, Jintao too close, multiple Alphas displaying territorial interest, the unmistakable magnolia scent saturating the air.
Yuze's expression went absolutely cold. He crossed the café in four strides, positioning himself between Xiaoran and everyone else, his Alpha presence exploding outward with such force that every other Alpha in the space instinctively backed down.
"Xiaoran," Yuze's voice was controlled but his body was rigid with barely contained fury, "do I have your permission to assist you?"
"Yes," Xiaoran managed. "Please."
Yuze turned to face Jintao, and his expression was genuinely terrifying—cold calculation mixed with barely leashed violence. "You have a no-contact directive. You are currently violating it. You will leave immediately or I will ensure you regret this choice."
"Who the fuck are you?" Jintao tried to project dominance, but his Alpha instincts recognized a threat from a superior. "You don't have any claim—"
"I have whatever claim Xiaoran grants me," Yuze interrupted, his tone dropping into something dangerous. "Which is more than you have. You attempted to force a mark without consent. You're a predator who mistakes obsession for affection. You will leave this café, you will stop attempting contact, and you will be grateful I'm not reporting you to authorities for violating a protective directive."
"You don't know what you're talking about—"
"I know exactly what I'm talking about." Yuze's hand moved to pull out his phone. "I'm calling campus security now. You can leave voluntarily or be escorted out and face formal charges. Choose quickly."
The other Alphas in the café were watching with fascination and wariness. One of them—a senior student Xiaoran vaguely recognized—spoke up. "Dude, just leave. You're making everyone uncomfortable, and that guy looks like he's about two seconds from ripping your throat out."
Jintao looked around, clearly assessing his options and finding them all unfavorable. He tried one more time, focusing on Xiaoran with false concern. "I just want to help. You know me, Xiaoran. Better than this stranger—"
"Leave. Now." Yuze's voice had gone absolutely flat, devoid of emotion, which somehow made it more frightening than if he'd been yelling. "Last warning."
Jintao finally retreated, backing toward the door while maintaining eye contact with Xiaoran. "This isn't over. We're going to talk eventually. You can't hide behind other people forever."
The moment he left, Yuze was moving again. He turned to Liu Ming. "Is there a private room? Storage area, break room, anywhere not public?"
"Break room, back there—" Liu Ming pointed.
Yuze carefully, deliberately placed his hand on Xiaoran's lower back—the same protective positioning as before—and guided him toward the break room. The other Alphas in the café watched but made no move to interfere, clearly recognizing Yuze's territorial claim and having no desire to challenge it.
In the break room, Yuze closed and locked the door, then immediately stepped back to maximize distance. His hands were shaking, Xiaoran noticed through his heat-fog. His canines were fully descended, his breathing carefully controlled, his entire body radiating tension.
"Emergency suppressants?" Yuze's voice was strained but functional. "Did you take them?"
"Fifteen minutes ago. They're not working." Xiaoran slid down the wall to sit on the floor, his body shaking. "Just like last time. I can't—I can't keep doing this. Can't keep fighting my own biology."
"How many times?" Yuze demanded, still maintaining distance across the small room. "How many emergency suppressants have you taken in the past two weeks?"
"Two. Ten days ago and just now."
"That's too many. Your system is in revolt." Yuze pulled out his phone. "I'm calling Zhou Mei and campus medical. You need proper assistance through this, not chemical suppression that your body is rejecting."
"No medical. Please." Xiaoran heard the desperation in his own voice. "They'll document it. Contact my parents. I can't—"
"Xiaoran, this is serious. Your heat is progressing despite medication. Your scent is intense enough to trigger multiple Alphas simultaneously. You need medical supervision, not—"
"I just need suppressants. The right dose. Something that will work." Xiaoran clutched at his suppressant case like a lifeline. "I have more. I can take more."
"Absolutely not. You'll overdose and cause serious harm." Yuze was typing something on his phone with shaking hands. "I'm texting Zhou Mei your location. She'll help you through this properly. I'm leaving before I lose control and make this worse."
"Don't go." The words came out before Xiaoran could stop them. "Please. I'm scared. Jintao is outside somewhere. Other Alphas are noticing. I need—I don't want to be alone right now."
Yuze's expression was anguished. "Xiaoran, I can barely maintain control. Your scent is specifically designed to break Alpha restraint. Being in this small room with you while your heat intensifies is—it's taking everything I have. I need to leave before I do something we both regret."
"Then talk to me." Xiaoran used the same strategy Yuze had used before. "Keep talking. Tell me about music theory, composition techniques, whatever. Just stay until Zhou Mei arrives. Please."
Yuze looked torn, his control visibly fracturing with each passing second. But he stayed. Pressed himself into the corner farthest from Xiaoran and started talking.
"Modal interchange in composition," his voice was rough but purposeful. "The concept of borrowing chords from parallel modes to create harmonic color. For example, in C major, borrowing from C minor creates unexpected emotional depth through altered chord qualities."
Xiaoran closed his eyes, focusing on Yuze's voice instead of his own physical distress. The heat was intensifying—the emergency suppressant had failed completely. But Yuze's voice was an anchor, something to hold onto through the biological storm.
"Continue," Xiaoran gasped when Yuze paused. "Keep talking."
"Secondary dominants as temporary modulation. Each scale degree can be preceded by its own dominant chord, creating brief excursions to related keys without fully committing to modulation. It adds sophistication to harmonic progression without destabilizing the overall tonal center."
Minutes crawled by. Yuze kept talking—harmonic theory, counterpoint principles, analysis of Bach fugues, anything and everything to keep his rational mind engaged while his biological imperatives screamed for completely different action. Xiaoran could see sweat on Yuze's forehead, could see his hands clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, could see the trembling that betrayed how much effort this control required.
Finally—after what felt like hours but was probably fifteen minutes—the break room door rattled. Zhou Mei's voice: "Xiaoran? It's me. Yuze texted me. I have keys from Liu Ming. I'm coming in."
The door opened and Zhou Mei entered with practiced calm, immediately assessing the situation. Xiaoran curled on the floor in obvious heat, Yuze in the opposite corner looking like he was about to shatter from control effort.
"Okay," Zhou Mei said with forced brightness. "Yuze, you need to leave right now. I've got this. Campus security is outside dealing with Jintao—apparently he was hanging around the café. They're escorting him off campus grounds."
Yuze nodded stiffly and moved toward the door, still maintaining maximum distance from Xiaoran. As he passed Zhou Mei, he grabbed her arm urgently.
"He's taken two emergency suppressants in ten days. His system is rejecting chemical intervention. He needs medical supervision, not more medication." Yuze's voice was tight with concern and barely suppressed instinct. "Don't let him take more suppressants. He could seriously hurt himself."
"I understand. I've got him. You go." Zhou Mei physically pushed Yuze toward the exit. "And Yuze? Thank you for staying with him. I know how hard that must have been."
Yuze left without responding, probably because words were beyond him at that point. The moment he was gone, Zhou Mei knelt beside Xiaoran.
"Okay, sweetie. Let's get you somewhere more comfortable than a café break room. Can you walk?"
"I don't know." Xiaoran's entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. "The suppressants aren't working anymore, Zhou Mei. My body keeps rejecting them. What do I do?"
"Right now? We're getting you to your dorm. Then we're calling Dr. Chen at student health. No arguments." Zhou Mei's voice was gentle but absolutely firm. "This pattern isn't sustainable. You know that, right?"
Xiaoran knew. He'd known since the first heat incident that fighting his biology with pharmaceuticals was a losing battle. But knowledge and acceptance were different things, and he wasn't ready to accept what the alternative meant—being vulnerable during heat, needing Alpha assistance, risking the kind of violation Jintao had attempted.
Zhou Mei helped him stand, supporting his weight as they left the break room. Liu Ming had cleared the café of customers, the "Closed for Emergency" sign already on the door. The other Alphas from earlier were gone, probably ushered out by Liu Ming to remove complications.
"Thank you," Xiaoran said to Liu Ming as they passed. "I'm sorry—"
"Don't apologize. Biology isn't your fault." Liu Ming was already texting someone. "I'm letting Auntie Wang know what happened. She'll understand. Just focus on taking care of yourself."
The walk to Xiaoran's dorm was a nightmare of barely maintained coherence. Zhou Mei kept him moving, kept him focused, navigated them through back paths to avoid main campus areas where more Alphas might notice. By the time they reached his room, Xiaoran was shaking violently, his heat fully manifested despite all his pharmaceutical attempts to suppress it.
Wei Chen took one look at the situation and immediately vacated with admirable speed and discretion. Zhou Mei helped Xiaoran onto his bed, then pulled out her phone.
"I'm calling Dr. Chen. You're going to talk to her. You're going to listen to medical advice. And we're going to figure out a sustainable solution that doesn't involve you poisoning yourself with excessive suppressants."
The phone conversation with Dr. Chen was fragmentary from Xiaoran's perspective—Zhou Mei explaining the situation, medical questions being asked, recommendations being made. At some point, Zhou Mei held the phone to Xiaoran's ear.
"Xiaoran," Dr. Chen's voice was professionally calm, "you're experiencing suppressant resistance and rebound heat. This happens when suppressants are overused or when someone takes emergency doses too frequently. Your body is essentially rebelling against pharmaceutical intervention."
"What do I do?" Xiaoran's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Right now? You endure it. The heat will run its course over the next 12-18 hours. I can't recommend more suppressants—you've exceeded safe dosage limits. What I can do is prescribe medication to manage the physical symptoms: fever reducers, anti-nausea medication, hydration support." Dr. Chen paused. "For future cycles, we need a completely different approach. No more emergency suppressants. Reduced daily suppressant dosage to allow natural minor cycles. And we should discuss the possibility of proper heat management with willing, vetted Alpha assistance rather than continued pharmaceutical resistance."
The last suggestion made Xiaoran's stomach clench with fear. "I can't—"
"I understand you have trauma. I'm not suggesting you do anything you're not ready for. But completely suppressing your biology indefinitely isn't working. We need alternatives." Dr. Chen's voice was gentle but firm. "Zhou Mei will stay with you through this immediate crisis. I'm sending medication prescriptions to the campus pharmacy—she can pick them up within the hour. Call me if symptoms become severe: dangerous fever, seizures, loss of consciousness. Otherwise, ride it out, stay hydrated, and we'll discuss long-term solutions when you've recovered."
After the call ended, Zhou Mei looked at Xiaoran with compassion and concern. "I'm getting your medications. I'll be back in forty minutes maximum. Will you be okay alone that long?"
"I don't have a choice, do I?" Xiaoran tried for humor but it came out bitter.
"You always have choices. They're just all shitty right now." Zhou Mei squeezed his hand. "I'm locking your door. Don't open it for anyone except me. I'll text when I'm back. Just... try to rest. This will pass. I promise it will pass."
After she left, Xiaoran curled up in bed, his body alternately burning and shivering as the heat progressed through its natural cycles unimpeded by medication. His mind was a chaotic mess of physical sensation and traumatic memory and desperate need that his rational brain rejected absolutely.
His phone, abandoned on the bedside table, buzzed periodically with messages:
Group chat: Zhang Wei and Chen Lili and Fang Ling expressing concern.
His mother: Routine check-in, unaware of the crisis.
And one from Lin Yuze that made Xiaoran's chest tighten: *Zhou Mei confirms you're safe. I'm available if you need anything—assistance, distraction, someone to call campus security if Jintao returns. You're not alone in this. I realize my presence might not be comforting given the biological complications, but the offer stands regardless. —LYZ*
Even in crisis, even when barely maintaining his own control, Yuze was thinking about Xiaoran's wellbeing. Offering help while acknowledging why that help might be unwelcome. Being there without pushing, available without demanding.
Xiaoran wanted to respond, but coherent texting was beyond him. The heat was intensifying, his body demanding things his mind refused to acknowledge, biology and trauma locked in exhausting conflict.
He must have dozed fitfully, because Zhou Mei's return felt simultaneously like minutes and hours later. She brought medication, cool cloths, sports drinks for hydration, and steady presence that made the unbearable slightly more bearable.
"Yuze texted me three times checking on you," Zhou Mei said while helping Xiaoran take the fever reducers. "He's really worried. Which is interesting because Lin Yuze doesn't generally do 'worried' as an emotion."
"He was there," Xiaoran said through chattering teeth. "At the café. When Jintao came. He protected me. Again."
"I know. He told me what happened. He's furious about it—not at you, at Jintao and the situation." Zhou Mei adjusted the cool cloth on Xiaoran's forehead. "He also said watching you suffer through pharmaceutical rejection was one of the hardest things he's experienced. That maintaining control while you were in distress took everything he had."
"He talked about music theory." Xiaoran's laugh came out slightly hysterical. "Modal interchange and secondary dominants. To stay focused. To keep his Alpha instincts from overwhelming him."
"That's actually really sweet in a deeply nerdy way." Zhou Mei smiled gently. "He's a good friend, Xiaoran. And more than that if you wanted—"
"I can't think about that right now." Xiaoran's voice broke. "I can barely think about surviving the next twelve hours. Romance is beyond my capacity."
"Fair enough. Then just focus on getting through this. I'm here. You're safe. Everything else can wait."
Zhou Mei stayed through the night, periodically bringing medication and water, changing cool cloths when fever spiked, providing steady presence through the worst of it. The heat finally broke around 6 AM, leaving Xiaoran exhausted, wrung out, and deeply relieved to have his body back under his conscious control.
"How do you feel?" Zhou Mei asked, looking equally exhausted from her night of caretaking.
"Like I was hit by a truck, dragged for several miles, then run over again for good measure." Xiaoran's voice was hoarse. "But coherent. Human. Not currently being betrayed by my own biology."
"That's progress." Zhou Mei handed him water. "You need to follow up with Dr. Chen. Develop a real plan for managing future cycles. This pattern isn't sustainable—we both know it."
"I know." Xiaoran did know. The question was whether he could overcome his fear enough to do something about it.
His phone showed dozens of messages accumulated overnight. The group chat full of concern. His sisters demanding updates after hearing through the Beijing gossip network that he'd had "another health incident."
And multiple messages from Lin Yuze, sent at intervals through the night: *2:47 AM: Still awake if you need anything.*
*4:23 AM: Zhou Mei says you're stable. Sleep well.*
*6:15 AM: If you're reading this, you've survived the worst. Recovery will take time. Don't rush. —LYZ*
The formal sign-off, the careful consideration, the consistent check-ins throughout the night—it was care expressed in the only language Yuze knew. Clinical but genuine. Distant but deeply felt.
Xiaoran typed back with shaking hands: *Thank you for yesterday. For protecting me, for staying when it was hard, for checking on me all night. You're a better friend than you probably realize.*
The response came within minutes: *Protecting you wasn't difficult—leaving when you needed help was difficult. I'm glad you're recovering. Let me know if you need anything as you regain strength. I can bring food, study materials, or simply be available for non-demanding company if that would be helpful. —LYZ*
"He really likes you," Zhou Mei observed, reading over Xiaoran's shoulder. "In his extremely awkward, formally-worded, emotionally-constipated way, he's basically saying he cares about you deeply."
"We're friends. Friends care about each other."
"Yes. And sometimes friends who care about each other very much gradually realize they care about each other in more than friendship ways." Zhou Mei stood up, stretching. "I'm going back to my dorm to sleep. You should sleep too. Recover. Process. And then seriously consider whether Lin Yuze's protective instincts and worried check-ins are purely platonic or if there's something more developing."
After she left, Xiaoran lay in bed, staring at Yuze's messages, thinking about cedar-and-paper scent and protective touches and music theory recited like prayers to maintain control.
Complicated. Everything was so complicated.
But Zhou Mei was right about one thing: this pattern wasn't sustainable. Something had to change.
Whether that change involved accepting help during heat, addressing his trauma properly, or acknowledging that his feelings for Lin Yuze might extend beyond friendship—all of it required courage Xiaoran wasn't sure he possessed.
But lying in bed, exhausted but finally free from heat, he made himself a promise: he would try. He would be brave enough to try.
Starting with a follow-up appointment with Dr. Chen. Then maybe therapy. Then... whatever came next.
One step at a time. That's all anyone could do.
One terrifying, uncertain step at a time toward something healthier. Something sustainable.
Something that might eventually feel like freedom.