Chapter 6: The Apology I never gave.

Naturally, Yooha drifted toward resignation.

For someone like Yooha, who was far more accustomed to giving up, accepting, and resigning himself than to hoping, it wasn’t anything unusual.

Would there really be any alpha who would like a recessive omega like him—one with the most common, indistinct wildflower-scented pheromones, and even those faint in concentration?

Even as he thought that, the fact that there had been no word for over a year made him curious enough that he couldn’t help asking.

The doctor clicked the mouse a few times as if searching for something, then soon lightly shook his head.

From that simple reaction alone, Yooha could easily predict that the answer wouldn’t be positive.

“There were a few recessive alphas with compatibility in the twenty to thirty percent range, but…”

“……”

“Matching only happens when it goes over fifty percent, so let’s wait a bit longer.”

“Yes…”

So that meant no alpha with a compatibility rate over fifty percent had appeared in the past year.

That was why there had been no contact.

Yooha accepted it calmly without feeling particularly disappointed and gave a small nod.

Now that he knew the reason, he felt he no longer needed to wonder about matching.

Well aware that vague expectations often led to greater disappointment, Yooha decided that today would be the day he finally let go of the faint hope he’d been holding onto.

“…Thank you for letting me know.”

Yooha gave the doctor a light bow and stepped out of the consultation room, taking a short, steadying breath.

Get a grip, Jin Yooha.

You already wasted time with a pointless question, so hurry up.

Yooha squeezed his eyes shut, tapped his right cheek twice, then went straight to the desk to schedule his next appointment.

Only after receiving his suppressants did his business at the center finally come to an end.

He took the elevator down to the first floor and was about to hurry out when he spotted a familiar face just entering through the doors.

“……”

He had seen him only once, yet the face was etched so deeply into his mind that it was impossible to forget.

The tall height that would look good in anything and the well-built physique caught his eye at once, and Yooha stopped without realizing it.

It was Shin Joowon.

The Shin Joowon whose face he hadn’t been able to glimpse even once at school since that day—now standing here, at this very center.

He was heading toward the elevator alongside a neatly dressed middle-aged man in a suit.

Yooha had recognized him and stopped, but due to the awkward angle, Shin Joowon didn’t notice Yooha and simply passed by.

He’s an alpha… right?

Yooha didn’t know Shin Joowon’s trait for certain, but just judging by how much taller he seemed, it felt highly likely.

And given that his family was an old conglomerate that had maintained its lineage for generations, there was a strong chance he was a dominant alpha.

Those families often preserved their status by ensuring only dominant traits were passed down.

“…Ah.”

Yooha let out a quiet sigh of realization.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on Shin Joowon’s trait.

There was no guarantee they would ever run into each other at school again, so this might have been the best chance to apologize.

But Yooha merely hesitated, feet twitching, unable to take a single step forward, standing frozen in place.

Just as Yooha had guessed Shin Joowon’s trait, Shin Joowon might also realize that Yooha was an omega if they met here.

He hadn’t lived his life treating his omega status as some grand secret, but that didn’t mean he wanted others to discover it either.

Yooha carefully shifted his gaze in the direction Shin Joowon was headed.

As he clenched the strap of his bag as though to bear its suddenly heavier weight, his entire body tensed.

“……”

He had no choice but to turn away this time too, yet the bitterness creeping in at the thought of losing a precious opportunity once again couldn’t be stopped.

With a faint unease that Shin Joowon’s tall figure and straight, steady gait would linger vividly in his mind, Yooha left the center.

****

Monday, the start of the week, was the busiest day in Yooha’s schedule.

After filling four hours of work at the library starting from nine in the morning, he had to sprint like mad to the business building to make it to his one o’clock lecture.

A librarian who pitied Yooha’s hellish timetable had said it was fine for him to leave earlier on Mondays, but another librarian—unaware of Yooha’s situation—kept him busy with tasks, and he was only able to grab his bag around twelve fifty.

“Yooha, what are you going to do if you can’t even eat lunch? Ah, at least take this.”

Lunch didn’t really matter, but worried about being late, Yooha hurriedly slung his bag over his shoulder.

The librarian looked at him with concern, then readily held out a chocolate frappuccino topped with a generous swirl of whipped cream.

Yooha glanced back and forth between the plastic cup extended toward him and the librarian’s face before asking carefully.

“…Didn’t you buy that for yourself?”

“I did, but I think it’d be better if you had it. Let’s say I’m on a diet. Go on, take it.”

With a warm smile, the librarian pushed the drink toward him again.

Was it really okay to accept it?

It felt shameless to take it outright, but refusing seemed rude as well.

Yooha often found himself at a loss over how to accept kindness from others.

In the end, though, he couldn’t refuse—because the warmth of someone else’s goodwill felt far too precious to him.

“…Thank you.”

“Hurry and go. You’ll be late.”

“Yes… I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Bowing deeply in thanks, Yooha left the library with the frappuccino clasped tightly in his hand.

The drink was as cold as the air outside, quickly numbing his fingers, but his heart felt warmly buoyant.

Yooha began his solitary sprint through the campus, weaving past people strolling leisurely.

After running and running, he made it halfway up the hill—the final hurdle before the business building—when the strength he’d forced out began to drain away like sand slipping through his fingers.

For Yooha, who had never been good at exercising and lacked stamina to begin with, this was pure agony.

But he couldn’t stop.

Being late was something that could never exist in Jin Yooha’s life.

With the business building now right in front of him, Yooha ran at full speed, without even a moment to catch his breath.

As soon as he pushed open the entrance, his feet continued pounding the floor toward the lecture hall.

Turn the corner at the end of the right hallway on the second floor, and that was it.

The unnatural quiet of the building made him worry that class might already have started, urging him to go even faster.

Just as he reached the second floor and was about to turn the corner—

“Ah…!”

“Ah, shit—”

In his haste, Yooha failed to watch where he was going and slammed straight into someone coming around the corner from the opposite direction.

The plastic cup clenched tightly in his hands crumpled instantly under the impact, and Yooha, unable to overcome his momentum, was knocked backward and landed hard on his backside.

His left hand, braced reflexively against the floor, twisted painfully at the wrist.

The pain shooting up from his tailbone, which had nearly hit the floor vertically, was no joke either.

But Yooha didn’t have the presence of mind to worry about himself.

He had to check on the person he’d collided with first.

“Ah… I’m s-sorry…!”

Startled enough to forget the pain, Yooha scrambled up and bowed deeply in apology.

Still gasping for breath, he finally noticed the other person’s sneakers and froze on the spot.

The dark brown liquid and white foam coating the pristine white shoes looked all too familiar.

It was the chocolate frappuccino the librarian had given him.

As Yooha slowly lifted his gaze, his face grew paler by the second.

Whipped cream and frappuccino had splattered onto the other person’s pants and black coat as well.

Unaware that his own clothes and shoes were in worse condition, Yooha kept repeating his apologies.

“I-I’m really sorry… Ah…?”

The moment he fully raised his head, Yooha’s words caught in his throat, leaving his mouth hanging open.

When he met the cold gaze looking down at him, his heart began pounding even harder than it had while running at full speed.

Standing before him was Shin Joowon.

Shin Joowon, silently radiating a chilling presence with his entire being.

In an instant, pheromones laced with anger wrapped tightly around Yooha’s body, making his lips dry and burn.

He’d suspected Shin Joowon was a dominant alpha, but thinking it and experiencing it firsthand were completely different things.

For Yooha, whose tolerance for pheromones was low due to being recessive, the dominant alpha’s pheromones flooding the area were more than enough to feel threatening.

Every shallow breath he managed to take carried the scent of grapes deep into his lungs.

It was a fragrance that called to mind dark wine—less sweet, more bitter and astringent—so heavy it numbed even his sense of smell.

As breathing itself became difficult and he thought he might pass out, Yooha tensed his entire body in fear that his own pheromones might leak out.

Just as his body began trembling violently and his balance wavered, the sharp, suffocating pressure of the pheromones gradually started to fade.

When his dimming consciousness slowly returned, he saw Shin Joowon standing there with a bright smile spread across his face.

It was so lively and radiant that it was hard to believe the suffocating pheromones and icy expression from moments ago had ever been real.

Only then did Yooha come back to his senses, his shoulders jerking as he hurriedly bowed his head once more.