Yuji stared at the ceiling of the car, letting the soft hum of the engine lull him into a moment of semi-calm.
He had just signed a contract to carry the child of a man who looked like a villain he had drawn in his insomnia-fueled days. The surrealism of it hadn't worn off. If anything, it was getting more vivid.
The ride was smooth. Too smooth. Like the universe was mocking him with luxury.
"Do you wish to review the medical terms again, Mr. Yuji?" the AI assistant embedded in the sleek car console chimed in.
Yuji groaned and covered his face. "No. Please no."
The car, mercifully, shut up.
He sighed into his hands.
He did read the whole contract. Every page. Every term. Twice. Then once more just to be petty. And the terms were... surprisingly respectful, if a little cold.
There would be no forced bonding.
He would receive medical supervision by an independent team.
The pregnancy would be medically supported in any way he required, and he retained all reproductive and parenting rights unless he explicitly signed them away later.
He would also receive monthly compensation, a full relocation package, protection status as a national surrogate, and, if desired, a brand-new condo in a secure area of the city.
Basically, they were treating him like a walking national treasure. Or a highly sensitive bio-asset.
And it was all signed under one name: Nikolai Sergeyevich Dragunov.
Yuji snorted to himself.
"Pfft... Nico. That's what I'm calling you. Nico."
The name rolled off his tongue with dangerous ease. He leaned his head against the car window.
"I don't care if you're some mega alpha with a ridiculous jawline and scary eyes. You're Nico now."
He chuckled softly.
"Sounds like a cat's name, honestly. Nico the Shorthair. Fits him too, all quiet and full of attitude."
Yuji, being Japanese, had a fondness for giving weirdly cute nicknames to scary things. It was cultural, probably. Like calling a hulking yakuza "Tama-chan."
And maybe, deep down, it made things feel more manageable. Less terrifying.
Because right now, the idea of carrying a national weapon's baby was sitting in his chest like a cannonball.
The contract even detailed hormone balancing protocols, postnatal housing options, and emergency clauses should either party die during the process.
He had to sign three different confidentiality agreements just to read the medical section.
Yuji had joked in his head, Damn, this is more thorough than my birth plan.
___
Elsewhere in a different wing of the city, Nikolai stood in front of a large interactive screen filled with reports. Financial, genetic, security. All being reviewed in real-time.
He looked calm. But his finger paused on one tab: Subject: Yuji
The word "Signed" was now marked in green beside the contract code.
He smiled faintly.
"Good choice."
"Sir," his assistant, a beta woman in her forties, said hesitantly. "About the surrogate—"
"Yes?"
"He just sent a message to the shared channel."
She handed over a sleek tablet.
Nikolai read the single text.
[ Yo. What's up, Nico. When do I get my new fridge? ]
Nikolai stared.
"...Nico?"
He said the word like it was a foreign substance on his tongue.
The assistant cleared her throat and wisely walked away.
Left alone, Nikolai stared at the tablet, rereading the message. Not because he didn't understand it, but because... no one had ever called him that.
Nico.
Like a stray cat. A pet. An adorable nuisance.
His brow twitched.
___
Back in his temporary housing, Yuji dropped onto the plush bed, tossing his phone aside with a satisfied grin.
"This is fine. Everything is fine. I'm not even freaking out."
He definitely was.
But calling the most powerful alpha in the country "Nico" helped. Just a little.
Especially when the name made him imagine a grumpy cat wearing a three-piece suit.
He laughed to himself, curling onto the bed like a shrimp. Well Nico or neco, really suit him.
A cat.
"Nico, huh... Wait till I draw that."
A new sketch idea formed in his brain. Russian mafia boss in cat ears. Captioned: Nico: Will Purr for War.
Yuji grabbed his tablet and immediately began sketching.
Because if he was going to survive this surreal life shift, he might as well turn it into art.
A message popped up on his device: [Editor: U ALIVE???]
Yuji hesitated.
Then he typed back:
[Somewhat. Got offered a weird job. Took it. Might be pregnant soon.]
[Editor: ...WTF. Is this a comic pitch?]
[Nope. Real life. Long story. Can't tell you. NDAs.]
[Editor: Are you okay??? Do I need to fly in???]
Yuji smiled faintly.
[I'm okay. Just wanted to say thanks for being my only contact with sanity.]
[Editor: Yuji wtf. You're scaring me. Are you in danger?]
[No. Just… surrounded by people with bulletproof limos and fridge money.]
[Editor: You're weird. But I'm glad you're safe. Ping me if you need me.]
[Will do. Thanks, Jun.]
Yuji set the tablet down again, warmth curling in his chest.
He didn't have many friends.
Being an introvert who barely left his apartment didn't help. His editor, Jun, was maybe the only human being who consistently checked on him without being annoying.
Yuji let himself sink deeper into the bed.
"Nico and Jun... what a combo," he muttered.
He exhaled slowly, one hand resting on his stomach.
He wasn't sure if he was ready.
But for once, he didn't feel entirely alone.