Chapter 6: A Cold Shadow and a Warm Hand

“Did our little chick come?”

When Haejun opened the squeaky, worn-out front door and walked inside, he found his grandmother sitting on a mat laid out in the yard, trimming wild greens. They looked like spinach to be served as a side dish. Since the weather had turned cool lately, it seemed she had come outside to wait for her grandson while keeping her hands busy.

His grandmother ran a small baekban diner near their house. Thanks to her skilled hands, she had a solid base of local regulars. When they lived in their hometown, she used to keep the doors open from morning until late at night without taking a single day off. But after moving up to Seoul, she only opened for early breakfast and lunch. That was thanks to the decent income Haejun earned from his part-time jobs, which spared her from slaving away late into the night.

“Did you eat?”

“I ate.”

“Is that a lie again?”

“No, it’s not. I really ate.”

Haejun replied nonchalantly as he squatted down by his grandmother’s feet—even though, in truth, he had lost his appetite from sheer exhaustion and hadn’t eaten a bite.

Usually, his grandmother was the only one worrying about his meals, but lately, Sijin had also been trying to feed him every chance he got. As a result, Haejun was currently lying to his grandmother that he’d eaten with Sijin, and lying to Sijin that he’d eaten with his grandmother or a friend.

He didn’t know how things had devolved to this point. Realizing that he was turning into the boy who cried wolf, Haejun let out a self-deprecating laugh.

“With that… Moon what’s-his-name?”

“I told you, it’s Moon Sijin.”

“Right. Moon Sijin.”

His grandmother responded in an indifferent tone and went back to trimming spinach. It was obvious she wouldn’t remember his name the next time either.

On the day he reunited with Sijin and returned home holding a bag of ice cream, Haejun had confessed honestly to his grandmother that he had met Sijin again. His grandmother was already well aware of the high school boy from the next neighborhood who used to look after her grandson when Haejun was little.

Yet whether gratitude was one thing and remembering names was another, his grandmother could rarely get Sijin’s name right. “That lad,” “that boy,” “that young fellar”—callings soaked in thick dialect were her ways of referring to Sijin. Then again, even when calling Haejun, she used pet names like “little pig,” “little chick,” “crumb,” or “rabbit” far more often than his actual name. In a way, this might just be her own way of showing affection.

“Brother Sijin is someone else’s precious grandson too. Would it kill you to say his name properly just once?”

“That pretty lad Moon Sijin. Satisfied now?”

His grandmother still lacked any real sincerity. Haejun pouted his lips. He didn’t know whether he should be happy or not that his grandmother’s affection was reserved solely for him.

The dirt-stained paring knife split the spinach root into two pieces, then immediately into four. The prepped spinach was tossed carelessly into a large plastic bag. Haejun stared blankly at the simple, repetitive motion.

“Does our Haejun listen well to his hyung?”

Just when Haejun thought “that pretty lad Moon Sijin” had already vanished from his grandmother’s mind, she surprisingly brought him up again.

“Your grandson is a good boy, Grandma. Of course I listen to him.”

“Right. You’re too soft-hearted, that’s your problem.”

She said he was a good person, but the words didn’t sound like a straightforward compliment. Haejun scratched his cheek awkwardly and shifted his eyes.

“A younger brother has to listen to his hyung to be loved.”

His grandmother muttered as if to herself. Hearing that, Haejun couldn’t bring himself to confess that he was lying to Sijin as easily as breathing.

Sijin was always trying to give him something. Not just snacks, but also exam study guides he’d organized himself, reference materials Haejun could use for assignments, and textbook editions that were practically brand new. When they couldn’t meet in person, it was common for Sijin to send digital gift coupons over text. With this going on for half a month straight, Haejun had no choice but to count down the days until tomorrow, when his part-time pay would be deposited.

On top of all that, more importantly than anything else, he needed pheromone suppressants to be around Sijin.

Haejun had been working part-time jobs since high school to support his grandmother and keep their household afloat. Since he’d jumped into the workforce, their life had become a bit more comfortable, but at best, it was only a slight loosening of a tight leash. In a life where they scraped by day to day, there was no way he had spare money to buy suppressants.

If he had to live as an Omega anyway, it made more sense to get good at controlling his pheromones. So Haejun had been honing his pheromone control for several years. Whenever he let his guard down or experienced intense emotional triggers, he would leak pheromones inadvertently, but in everyday situations, he was capable of keeping them locked down almost perfectly.

Moreover, Haejun didn’t think of himself as fragile like typical Omegas. Working nonstop had built up lean muscle, allowing him to introduce himself as a non-recessive/unmanifested person without raising suspicion. At school, no one except a few professors and Kang Hangyeol knew he was an Omega, and Sijin undoubtedly assumed he was a Beta as well.

Even during brief encounters on campus, a faint yet distinct Alpha pheromone lingered around Sijin. Just like the subtle scent of cigarettes Haejun used to catch when he was little, Sijin seemed to suppress his pheromones almost completely, yet a trace always remained.

The biggest problem here was that Baek Haejun, an Omega, reacted to Moon Sijin’s Alpha pheromones. The pheromones of other secondary-gendered people felt merely unfamiliar, but Sijin’s pheromones felt distinctly different.

Every time Haejun sensed his pheromones, he felt as though he might leak his own without realizing it. Not only that, but his nerves would unravel, a chill would run down his spine, and a faint, restless tingling would spread deep within his lower stomach. This physical sensation, experienced for the first time in his life, was endlessly unfamiliar, yet he didn’t find it unpleasant. Instead, it was slightly sweet and ticklish. He felt embarrassed to experience such a sensation, yet even amidst that embarrassment, it felt good.

“…”

He had merely retraced the sensations he’d felt in the past, yet his body seemed to itch all over again. Haejun shivered violently, like someone whose skin had been nipped by a cold wind.

At any rate, once his part-time pay came in tomorrow, he would buy pheromone suppressants first thing.

His grandmother’s hand slipped, and a split piece of spinach fell just short of the plastic bag. Haejun picked up the spinach and put it in, tallying his bank balance in his head. Seeing him slowly clean up the dirt cluttering the area, his grandmother spoke up.

“It’s covered in dirt, so don’t touch it.”

“I can just wash my hands.”

“Stop messing around and go inside. You’ll get eaten by mosquitoes.”

He was about to retort, Mosquitoes in September? when a buzzing sound vibrated near his ear right on cue. Haejun swatted at his ear sheepishly.

The way adults looked at Haejun generally fell into two categories. One was pity; the other was contempt. To put it simply, those who pitied him were somewhat good people, and those who held contempt were usually bad people. Moon Sijin’s first impression belonged to the latter.

He had called him a son of a b*tch.

It was a phrase his father screamed while turning the household upside down, and Haejun was not young enough to be ignorant of the fact that it was a common insult. Though Sijin was wearing a school uniform and couldn’t be called a full-fledged adult, he was as tall and well-built as most grown men. In particular, his cold, unfeeling gaze—as if looking down at something worthless—was more than enough to terrify the young Haejun.

‘That hyung is a little scary, but I still like you. Can I call you Happy? How about Happy? Do you like this name too?’

Facing each other across the iron fence, Haejun and the Golden Retriever looked like lovers caught in a tragic romance. Though their homes were different and even their species differed, Haejun really liked his new friend.

Haejun came to play in the neighboring town every single day. The next day, and the day after that, without missing a single day. Whenever Haejun appeared, Happy, who had been lying in the middle of the yard, would leap to his feet and wag his tail furiously. After realizing that was a sign of joy, Haejun even saved up a week’s worth of pocket money to buy dog chews.

‘I was wondering why this kid was always hanging around here.’

Meeting the scary hyung again happened a month after that first day.

Haejun froze in the exact posture of pushing a dog chew through the fence. Moon Sijin, dressed in casual clothes, radiated a mature air convincing enough to pass for an adult.

‘Because this guy sits right here waiting for you, all the flowers in this garden bed are dead.’

Sijin pointed to the flowerbed where Happy was standing. Because they always met in front of this fence, the plants near that spot had indeed all withered away. Since it was in a spot hard to see from where Haejun stood, he had only just realized it now.

‘I’m… I’m sorry.’

Realizing that he had caused the destruction of someone else’s garden bed, Haejun’s face flushed with embarrassment. Just as Sijin was about to reply, Happy tapped Sijin’s leg with his front paw. It was unclear whether he was asking for attention for himself or telling him not to pick on his friend. When Sijin stroked his chin and head, Happy panted happily with his tongue hanging out.

Haejun’s eyes naturally drifted toward him as if spellbound. In that moment of showering the dog with affection, he wasn’t a scary hyung at all. The gentle touch and the eyes filled with warmth made Haejun’s heart flutter, even though that warmth wasn’t directed at him.

Sijin quietly looked down at Haejun through the cage-like fence.

Is he about ten years old? The clothes and shoes he wore were clean. Seeing him here both last time and today, his house might be somewhere nearby. Though he looked thin and small, his neat appearance suggested he wasn’t a kid from a dirt-poor family.

Then why does he keep looking like an abandoned puppy on a rainy day?

Even Sijin himself couldn’t figure out why he was turning a perfectly fine kid into a pitiful one, but the vivid impression already etched in his mind was not easily erased. That was why Sijin acted differently from his usual self. Normally, he wouldn’t care whether someone passed by the house or not, but right now was different.

‘Want to go for a walk together?’

The question was directed at Haejun, but Happy, reacting to the word “walk,” began bouncing around with his massive body. Haejun wasn’t about to miss the chance to directly touch and play with Happy, whom he had met every day across the fence like star-crossed lovers. Haejun nodded his head repeatedly, his eyes shining brightly.

Watching him, the corners of Sijin’s eyes crumpled slightly into a faint frown. To his eyes, the two small fists clenched in anticipation looked far too tiny and fragile.

📚 Also on NHV Novels

Sweet Peach Punch

Age GapBLBoys Love

Read Now →
Not interested