Ch 11

Through the rearview mirror, Ideun caught sight of Ji-an, who had been standing absentmindedly, finally entering the studio apartment, prompting him to press down on the accelerator with a wry chuckle escaping his lips. His right index finger tapped steadily on the steering wheel as he held it.

Meeting Ji-an on the street had been nothing more than a coincIdeunce. It was a reluctant outing, spurred by Haneul’s insistence that he be the one to pick him up when he went out with friends for the first time in ages. 

Though he could have walked past Ji-an as he stood there, cheeks and ears flushed, gazing at the traffic with a blank expression amidst a crowd, he found his feet halting in front of him.

Had Ji-an taken advantage of the brief moment he stepped out to run away? And thinking of the cash left on the table made his blood boil. It was a sum one could call either large or small, an amount typically carried by someone on a trip. 

He had rifled through Ji-an’s wallet, wanting to know who he really was. The thought of him taking out all the cash he’d glimpsed so casually and making a run for it… 

Sure, one might chalk it up to the shock of waking up next to someone, but couldn’t they have just talked it over slowly? As Ji-an himself had said, it wasn’t forced, and they had both enjoyed it. 

Regardless, Ideun was exasperated by Ji-an’s cheekiness, from the checkout to his sudden flight back to Korea. Did he really think he wouldn’t be found? It was hardly difficult to remember the name, ID number, and address so plainly written on his resIdeunt ID card left in the wallet. 

In any case, they had crossed paths again on the street, and Ideun was not so foolish as to let that moment slip by. Had Ji-an not spouted those ridiculous words about compensation… Or if he hadn’t been wandering around drunk and defenseless… maybe Ideun would have ignored him. 

With a pouty face, Ji-an retorted slyly, claiming he wasn’t the clingy one here. A companion? His expression was far too ambiguous to be talking about any supposed companion. 

Sitting in the passenger seat, looking drowsy while eating ice cream, staring boldly enough to make Ideun uncomfortable, and even calling him “Ahjussi” with those wide eyes— 

There was no way he could correct that nickname; after all, eight years of age difference meant he was an “ahjussi,” didn’t it?

Confirming again from Ji-an’s mouth what he already knew brought nothing but a sigh. What was he even doing with someone eight years younger? All that lingered was a feeling of self-reproach. 

And now he’s calling it a “mutual fault.” The worst part? He couldn’t disagree.

With the kid gradually looking drowsier from the alcohol, Ideun had little choice but to drive him home. 

At least he had managed to get a correct phone number out of Ji-an after he gave him a fake one at first, thinking he was being cute. That was everything he managed to accomplish today. 

An unscented omega. That’s how he could fool people so easily. But it didn’t mean he was innocent or pure. Thinking about how Ji-an’s body had responded to an alpha’s touch made Ideun feel stifled.

An alpha who could recognize an unscented omega. 

No bond, only casual enjoyment—was that it? Or maybe a partner? 

If not a partner, then perhaps it all made sense. The sigh that escaped Ideun grew longer as he thought about Ji-an’s background. 

Whatever life Ji-an lived was his, and Ideun had his own life to lead. He didn’t even remember—so why should Ideun go out of his way to tell him there was no companion and that it was actually him? Why ask with that glint in his eyes, only to forget?

Let’s just not meet again. Better to leave it as a fleeting fling and move on, like Ji-an suggested. That seemed to be the best solution.

But that resolve crumbled in less than 30 minutes. When he got out of the car, a 10,000-won bill caught his eye. 

“What the…?”

So the money he left that night was for the room, and this must be for the taxi fare?

He really did have a knack for leaving traces, if that could even be called a skill.

Pocketing the 10,000 won and returning to his office, Ideun headed straight to the break room, where he drank a cold glass of water filled with ice, a hollow laugh escaping his lips again and again. 

“Oh? What’s up? Why are you back?”

“Work piled up. Why are you here at this hour?”

“Me too, work. But what happened? I heard Haneul got someone else to bring him back? He seemed disappointed.”

“So?”

The thought of leaving Haneul standing on the street with just an ice cream in hand made his head throb. He was right in front of a restaurant with his friends, no longer a child—he’d surely make it home fine. 

“What do you mean, so? He whined to me to come pick him up and take him home. I just got back after doing that.”

Of course, it was Taemin who let slip that Ideun was working late and about to leave. It was Ideun’s fault he hadn’t ignored Haneul’s call when he quickly rang, asking him to take him home.

Haneul was the child of a prominent entrepreneur, a well-known name. He’d spent most of his school years abroad, and Ideun, who had never crossed paths with him until recently, had only met him by chance. Taemin, however, had known his family since childhood and treated him like a cute younger sibling.

So, he seemed to trust and like Taemin more, but Ideun had somehow become close enough to share meals with him on occasion.

Calling him “hyung” repeatedly, he was adorable in his own way… But the memory of someone obliviously licking the pink spoon smeared with ice cream crossed his mind, and Ideun ran a hand through his hair roughly. 

“Doesn’t matter as long as someone took him home.”

Draining the last of his water, Ideun poured himself another glass of cold water.

Just work. Just focus on work. His startup had grown thanks to his dedication and a bit of luck. Plus, he had partners willing to work overtime of their own accord. 

“Did you see the list of new hires this time?”

He cast a quick glance at the file Taemin was waving from his seat on the massage chair but just raised a hand to indicate he was heading out. The HR department would surely handle it well. 

“They hired five. Wonder what they’re like this time… So many resumes look impressive but don’t show up in practice. How many will last, I wonder?”

“You only know when they start working.”

“So, who was the kid you took off with? You don’t know anyone who’s Haneul’s age.”

Ideun’s steps halted at the break room door.

“Why?”

“Haneul was curious. Said he’s his closest friend and wondered what your relationship with him was. He couldn’t think of any connection between you two.” 

“No connection, huh… I guess that’s true.”

There’s a saying that coincIdeunce upon coincIdeunce is fate, and after all, the first day they met, they locked eyes, shared kisses, and even shared a bed multiple times. The problem was that the other person didn’t remember.

“Treat Haneul well, you punk. He’s walking around with a big smile because he likes you. With someone like Haneul, there’s no reason to oppose it anywhere, right?”

“Do you even know how old Haneul is?”

“Haneul? Twenty-four. So what? He’s a dominant omega from a good family, and even your strict family welcomes him with open arms. He’s sociable, polite, cute, and pretty. Saying it all like this, our Haneul really is amazing. Compared to an old fox raising snakes in his belly, Haneul’s too good.”

Watching Taemin counting off compliments for Haneul on his fingers, Ideun clicked his tongue.

“Get to work, and stop with the nonsense.”

“Haha. Don’t tell me you’re actually feeling guilty about Haneul’s age or something absurd like that?”

Absurd thoughts.

As Taemin said, Ideun couldn’t turn down Haneul’s requests, who would blush and smile bashfully whenever he looked his way. Haneul would constantly pester him to do things and use his wits to get closer to him, which was cute. When Haneul cuddled up, claiming he was cold, Ideun didn’t particularly push him away.

So what?

With one person, just the thought of him brought up feelings of a cute little brother who he should look after, while the other…

Ideun sighed softly as that person subtly crept back into his thoughts.

Both of them were twenty-four and were apparently close friends. But one was simply an adorable kid, someone he should take care of, while the other…

Dwelling on it wasn’t going to change anything. It’s not like that person would reach out first, and if Ideun didn’t make a move, it would just end.

“Get back to work, Ha Taemin. Unless you want to see the break of dawn again before heading home.”

“Seo Ji-an? Same age as Haneul, too. That guy Haneul mentioned earlier was named Ji-an.”

Standing in front of the break room, Ideun quickly strode over to Taemin, grabbed the file without asking, and checked it.

The first thing he noticed was the ID photo, taken with a neat suit and facing forward. Then came the name, date of birth, and even the same address he’d visited earlier. Ideun’s brows furrowed.

“Hey, this is him, right?”

More than anything else, what caught Ideun’s eye was the word “beta” written in the genotype field.

* * *

Ji-an wasn’t sure if it was morning or afternoon sunlight, but the bright light forced his eyes open, and he burrowed under the covers to escape it. Yet soon, feeling suffocated, he poked his head out, blinking and looking blankly around the room.

In the sparse apartment with only the bare essentials, the only things standing out were the clothes strewn about from the previous night. Ji-an tilted his head as he looked at them, tossed one by one from the entrance to the bed.

Did he drink himself senseless last night? He didn’t think he drank even half of his usual limit. He remembered meeting that compensation-rambling guy, Ideun, and even remembered being driven home by him, but did he blurt out his address during their conversation?

The details of their conversation were hazy. Ji-an, feeling a wave of self-loathing, buried his face back into the blanket. But just then, an image of a paper bag near the entrance flashed in his mind, prompting him to lift his head again.

Wearing only his underwear, Ji-an crawled out of the blanket and squatted down as soon as his feet hit the floor.

*Cough.*

Oh, great. A cough, too? With a pounding headache and a sore stomach that were clearly hangover symptoms, he seemed to have caught a cold as well. Instead of getting dressed, Ji-an clumsily wrapped himself in the blanket, turned up the boiler to warm himself, and opened the fridge.

Grabbing the last 500ml bottle of water, he downed it all, shivering at the cold, then went to retrieve the paper bag at the entrance.

Even if he was out of his mind, he should have put it in the freezer. Regretting the melted ice cream, Ji-an returned to bed, his face devoid of any life.

He used to be healthy, back when he’d stay up all night sorting parcels for a part-time job and head to school to catch a morning lecture. But now, even slight overexertion left him noticeably drained. Lying on his side, Ji-an’s stomach growled.

Without a clock on the wall, he had to check his phone for the time. Letting out a long sigh, Ji-an muttered to himself, “Might as well sleep it off. Maybe this ache will disappear if I rest.”

* * *

Ji-an’s life, left to his own devices, was a complete mess. Until the trip that went terribly wrong, he’d had goals like “I’ll do this” or “I’ll try that,” but those had all vanished by now.

Occasionally keeping in touch with Haneul or lurking in a group chat with his classmates, he would lazily submit resumes and even go on interviews, but when alone for too long, everything faded again.

Maybe it was because he’d lived the past five years more intensely than most people. Feeling completely burned out, Ji-an squeezed his eyes shut, then forced himself to sit up like an inflatable clown doll.

He had to take care of himself—who else would? There were still so many things he hadn’t done.

Pulling himself out of his slump, Ji-an washed up thoroughly, tidied the scattered clothes, and put them in the washer before stepping outside. Despite the cold and feeling a fever coming on, he checked his forehead, unsure if it was his cold hands or a genuinely warm forehead. Ji-an shoved his hands into his pockets.

Not wanting to go far, Ji-an planned to get some simple ready-to-eat meals and cold medicine from the nearby convenience store when he stopped in his tracks at a faint sound. Thinking he misheard the winter wind, he moved on, but then came to a halt again.

*Meow.*

Following the barely audible sound, Ji-an turned his head to find a tiny creature no bigger than his fist shivering in the corner of a flower bed near the officetel entrance. He bit his lip, hesitating to reach out, wondering if the kitten’s mother was nearby.

Was she in the middle of moving her litter in the cold? Maybe she’d gone to find food… Still, in this freezing weather, he wanted to wrap a scarf around the little thing. Yet he worried he might scare off the mother, so he just watched, anxiously pacing.

The convenience store was less than a hundred meters away, so Ji-an had dressed lightly, and he ended up shivering beside the abandoned kitten for over an hour.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured, finally deciding he’d freeze before the mother returned. He scooped up the kitten, wrapping it in his scarf.

With its eyes barely open, skinny with bits of dried grass tangled in its sparse fur, the kitten looked so frail it wouldn’t be surprising if it died any moment. Ji-an, cradling it, quickened his steps.

Unlike his hurried entry into the vet’s office, Ji-an left hours later with his hands full of supplies for the kitten.