Chapter 32: A Fateful Spring

Yoonwoo lifted his head with a brightened expression. Yeon-chae stood before him, a takeout cup in his right hand, looking down with a face etched with concern.

“Senior, are you feeling unwell again? What’s wrong?”

A large hand settled over Yoonwoo’s forehead. A refreshing, gentle scent, like ripples, flowed deep into his chest. Suddenly, the suffocating tightness in his chest eased, bringing a wave of relief. He felt life surge back into him.

Yoonwoo blinked, his eyes slightly obscured by Yeon-chae’s pinky finger. Perhaps feeling the tickle of Yoonwoo’s eyelashes, Yeon-chae widened his eyes before quickly withdrawing his hand, biting his lip with an embarrassed expression. The tips of his ears were flushed crimson.

Yeon-chae averted his gaze, hiding the hand that had touched Yoonwoo’s forehead behind his back. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke.

“…Senior, if you’re not feeling well, let’s go to the hospital together. I’ll take you.”

“No, I’m fine. I don’t hurt at all.”

It wasn’t a lie; he genuinely felt completely normal. He wished he could stay close to Yeon-chae, but Woo-jae and Hyun-jun, seated on either side, caught his eye. They stared blankly, alternating their gazes between Yoonwoo and Yeon-chae.

Yoonwoo, desperately in need of a pheromone supply, couldn’t help but look disappointed.

“Why did you come so late…?”

“I came early, but I went to grab some drinks. I saved a seat over there.”

Yeon-chae gestured towards the front seats of the lecture hall, his expression troubled. It seemed awkward for him to just pull Yoonwoo away from his spot between Hyun-jun and Woo-jae. After a brief pause, Yeon-chae spoke, a hint of resignation in his voice.

“I’ll just come over here.”

“Oh, no. Let’s go to your reserved spot. That seat has a better view of the front, it’s much better.”

Yoonwoo quickly rose, swiftly gathering his textbook and bag.

Woo-jae and Hyun-jun gaped, their faces bewildered. However, Yoonwoo’s own survival was paramount. It would be better to move with Yeon-chae than to sit separated by Hyun-jun. Following Yeon-chae out, he immediately found it easier to breathe than before.

He casually waved off his classmates, who were shouting “traitor” from behind, and hurried towards the front seats.

‘Ah, I can live now.’

Peace settled over him the moment he sat close to Yeon-chae. While Hyun-jun’s presence was one thing, the scent of other Alphas sitting far away was equally nauseating, causing him constant distress. Now, a sweet, vibrant floral scent spread through his chest, melting away his tension and relaxing his entire body. He couldn’t have been more fortunate to share a class with Yeon-chae.

He slumped languidly in his chair, his limbs losing all their strength. At the edge of his right vision, he saw Yeon-chae tilt his head. ‘Why?’ he thought, turning to look, only for Yeon-chae to cast his eyes down. Then, he abruptly held out the takeout cup he was holding.

“Please have this.”

“What is it?”

“Something sweet.”

It was hot chocolate piled high with whipped cream. A hint of bitterness touched Yoonwoo, reminding him of the coffee topped with a mountain of whipped cream he had drunk at a mountaintop cafe in Tongyeong.

The holder bore the name of Yoonwoo’s favorite handmade chocolate shop.

“You went here?”

As Yoonwoo took the cup, his fingers brushed against Yeon-chae’s fingertips, which were still holding it. Yeon-chae silently nodded, his earlobes still a vivid red.

Yoonwoo lightly licked the whipped cream with the tip of his tongue. The sweet and refreshing taste melted delightfully in his mouth. Taking a sip, the rich chocolate aroma and warmth spread through his entire body. His body, exhausted from the headaches and nausea, seemed to gradually stabilize.

“Is it tasty?”

Yeon-chae asked, curiosity in his voice. Yoonwoo nodded, smiling as he replied, “Yes.”

A large hand reached out and touched the back of Yoonwoo’s head. The tips of his fingers, stroking as if to cup his head, sent a tickle through him. ‘Huh?’ he thought, lifting his gaze, and their eyes met. The afternoon sunlight cast a shadow in Yeon-chae’s light brown eyes as he silently watched Yoonwoo.

His long eyes slowly curved, forming a crescent shape.

“I’ll buy it for you every day. So please, don’t be sick anymore.”

Yoonwoo couldn’t meet his gaze and lowered his eyes.

“Okay…”

Season after season passed, and spring returned. It was a day when flower petals fluttered in the early spring breeze outside the open window. This spring wouldn’t last long. Yet, even if April would soon fade, that brief afternoon, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Yeon-chae, was enough.

Though days passed, Yoonwoo remained unable to make a decision. He wavered with a heavy heart, knowing the answer yet unable to act. This was something he shouldn’t have had to agonize over so much; he regretted not having scheduled the surgery on the very day he received his test results at the hospital.

He tried to pretend otherwise, but the tiny, bean-sized life stirring within him constantly gnawed at his thoughts.

To summarize the situation:

Yeon-chae, who had been suddenly overcome by rut, and Yoonwoo, who was drunk, had a one-night accident. To make matters worse, Yoonwoo had experienced a late onset of his secondary gender, but as a recessive Omega, he hadn’t even realized it. Adding to this incredulity, this twenty-one-year-old Alpha had instantly impregnated a recessive Omega who, despite being older, had yet to experience a single heat cycle. And Yeon-chae didn’t even properly remember that night.

Yoonwoo wished Yeon-chae hadn’t remembered, but the situation was so absurd that he almost resented him for not remembering. Though older than Yeon-chae, Yoonwoo was only twenty-three. Both of them had yet to graduate from university.

If this had been someone else’s problem, he would have smacked the irresponsible fellow on the back and asked what they were going to do. The most pathetic part was his own inability to make a swift decision, even after things had escalated to this point. Yoonwoo could only sigh, exasperated with himself.

However, the day eventually came when Yoonwoo had to steel his resolve. His physical condition had deteriorated to the point where he couldn’t even sleep properly at night.

“Ugh… bleh…”

The meager breakfast he had barely managed to eat came back up in its entirety. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, his eyelids, swollen from tears, stung. This state, like fighting a war every morning, had continued for a week.

For several days now, he hadn’t even dared to go to school. While his condition would improve as if by magic whenever he met Yeon-chae at school, in his current state, he feared he might collapse on the street before even reaching school. As the days without seeing Yeon-chae lengthened, his condition rapidly worsened—a vicious cycle.

Moreover, midterms were just two weeks away. If he took the exams in this state, he would surely face academic probation, with a report card full of D’s and F’s, let alone any scholarship.

“I’m going to the hospital today…”

Wiping away cold sweat, he stumbled into the master bedroom and collapsed onto the futon spread on the floor. The ceiling spun before his eyes. Deciding to go to the hospital was good, but how to get there was the problem. First, he would have to make an appointment. Simply showing up and demanding surgery wouldn’t work, a procedure that couldn’t possibly be arranged on the spot like some instant meal.

There was one more problem.

“It’s probably better if Yeon-chae never finds out…”

He mumbled in a hoarse voice. Yeon-chae also had rights concerning the life growing inside him. However, if he couldn’t carry the pregnancy to term anyway, it would be better not to burden Yeon-chae with it. That night had been a mistake, Yeon-chae was still young, and he didn’t even remember it.

Furthermore, if blame were to be assigned, it was Yoonwoo, the senior, who bore more responsibility for failing to maintain his composure and getting swept up in the moment, rather than Yeon-chae, who had lost his senses due to rut.

Lost in these thoughts, Yoonwoo pushed himself up. He intended to visit the hospital to make an appointment and consult with the doctor before the surgery.

With each step he took towards the front door, his stomach churned, threatening to spill its contents. Yoonwoo clenched his fist, lightly tapping his chest, and opened the door. A cool spring breeze gently brushed his cheek.

“Huh?”

For a moment, Yoonwoo wondered if he had seen wrong and rubbed his eyes with both hands.

“Senior.”

But even after blinking several times, the clear, bright face before him, as if painted with a delicate brush, was indeed Yeon-chae’s.

“Why aren’t you coming to school?”

The corners of his long, almond-shaped eyes, looking down at Yoonwoo, trembled imperceptibly. As if he had bitten his lower lip repeatedly, the chapped corners of his lips were stained a blood-red hue.

“The test results weren’t good, were they? You’ve been throwing up and feeling sick ever since.”

Though late spring was approaching, the wind remained chilly. How long had he been standing there? Yeon-chae’s cheeks, neck, and earlobes were all red. He was dressed in a hoodie and jeans, without a jacket.

“Are you in a lot of pain?”

A deep, low voice, heavy with emotion, asked.

“Is it a serious illness?”

The clarity of his expression clouded over. His downcast eyelashes fluttered, heavy with unshed moisture, each time Yeon-chae blinked.

Yoonwoo didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t answer, only lowering his gaze.

“It’s not that. You don’t need to worry about it.”

Eventually, a small voice escaped his parting lips. Yeon-chae lowered his head, meeting Yoonwoo’s downcast eyes. His transparent irises were a bright, light brown.

“Please don’t be sick.”

“Yeon-chae.”

His clear, bright eyes were full of moisture. His tears seemed poised to spill at the slightest touch, heavy and overflowing.

“Please…”

His pale face was exceptionally white. Shadows fell across his large, light brown eyes. The tears that had welled in his eyes finally streamed down his cheeks. Yoonwoo, flustered and at a loss, bowed his head deeply. His responding voice trembled faintly.

“I’m not sick.”

“But you are sick, aren’t you?”

“I said I’m not.”

“You’re not sick? Then what is it? Can’t you tell me?”

Yeon-chae covered his mouth with his hand, bent forward, and knelt down on one knee. He bit his lip, swallowing his cries. Without even a faint sob, his tears simply streamed down, falling with soft thuds onto the ground. The exposed nape of his neck, pale and vulnerable, stirred a pang of regret in Yoonwoo. His perfectly sculpted profile, thoroughly soaked with tears, shone starkly in the morning sunlight.

Perhaps that was why.

Yoonwoo simply couldn’t face that expression and lie. The words he had kept buried deep within him, the secret he had guarded alone, spilled forth the moment he faced Yeon-chae’s tear-streaked, flushed cheeks.

“I’m pregnant…”

Yeon-chae’s breath hitched, stopping with a sharp gasp.

Between the breezes that brushed his neck, Yeon-chae’s floral scent spread. The sunlight on his back felt warm, making for a peaceful morning.

Yoonwoo crouched in front of Yeon-chae, hesitantly reaching out a hand towards his wet cheek. He cupped Yeon-chae’s cheek with his palm and gently wiped away the moisture near his eyes with his thumb. However, unable to do anything about the already thoroughly soaked cheek, he grew flustered, then removed his hand and fumbled through his sling bag for tissue scraps.

As the warmth that had caressed his cheek disappeared, Yeon-chae burst into tears again.

“Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Yeon-chae. Hmm? We’re right in front of my house, what if someone sees…?”

Yoonwoo felt a little embarrassed as he frantically wiped Yeon-chae’s eyes and cheeks with tissues. Tears, seemingly endless, continued to stream down Yeon-chae’s swollen cheeks.

“Senior, I…”

The scent, like spring blossoms dampened by a gentle drizzle, wafted to Yoonwoo’s nose. Yeon-chae spoke, his voice thick with tears, hiccuping softly.

“I’ll do well…”

“…Do well at what, you idiot…?”

Noticing the exasperation in Yoonwoo’s voice, as if he wanted to hit him, Yeon-chae stopped crying mid-sob. Then, he gently leaned his wet cheek against Yoonwoo’s shoulder. Yoonwoo softly stroked Yeon-chae’s broad, faintly trembling back with his palm.

The moisture seeped into his shoulder. It felt as if his own chest was becoming heavy and soaked.

Yoonwoo tightly closed his eyes, the gentle warmth he had yearned for so long now a distant, comforting embrace.