Choi Yeo-min, who had promised to bring me news of Se-yul, seemed to be avoiding me afterward. Whenever we were together and a conversation seemed about to start, he would suddenly stand up, claiming he had something to do, and disappear somewhere.
It was almost hard to believe he had been assigned to keep an eye on me, given how often he left me alone. Thanks to his frequent absences, I had plenty of opportunities to search for gaps in the garden’s security. Not that I ever succeeded.
He definitely recognized Se-yul back then.
The moment he heard that Se-yul was my younger brother, his wavering eyes had spoken the truth. But despite that, Choi Yeo-min insisted he didn’t know him. That was probably a lie.
I had no idea why he would lie about it, but since he wasn’t willing to tell me, I saw no point in pressing him for answers. It didn’t matter anymore.
And so, the days passed in a calm, quiet routine. One night, as usual, I had fallen asleep—only to wake up gasping, my breath ragged from a feverish heat.
Sweat had drenched my sheets, soaking them through. I had hoped it was nothing, but the fever that followed refused to subside, tormenting me for days.
It hurts…
I curled up, wrapping my trembling arms around myself. Ever since coming here, I had never been this sick before. That only made it worse.
Unlike in District 5, where this wasn’t an issue, I couldn’t afford to let anyone find out I was an Omega. Calling for the physician wasn’t an option. I had no choice but to endure it, relying on the fever reducers Choi Yeo-min had brought me.
But I knew better than anyone that this was no ordinary fever. My pheromones were unstable. And the real problem? The medication I needed didn’t exist here.
This is unbearable.
I dragged my heavy, battered body upright and peeled off my sweat-drenched clothes before slipping back under the covers. My body burned like fire, yet I shivered as if trapped in ice. It was a wretched fever, the kind that left me stuck between burning heat and bone-deep chills.
Hiding beneath the blankets, trembling uncontrollably, I heard the sound of someone entering my room. I cautiously peeked out to see who it was.
It was Choi Yeo-min.
“Are you feeling any better?”
“…No.”
I couldn’t even manage a polite lie. Once this kind of fever started, it lasted for at least three days—sometimes over a week. And without the right medication, who knew how long it would drag on? If it kept up, I could very well die like this.
“I brought more fever reducers, but…”
“They won’t help.”
“Still… isn’t it better to take them?”
Choi Yeo-min handed me a glass of water and the medicine. Figuring it was better than nothing, I took the pills from him, silently praying for this wretched fever to break.
I placed the small pill on my tongue and swallowed it with a sip of water. Having barely eaten anything throughout my fever, even a single mouthful was difficult to get down. Once the cup felt lighter in my hands, I returned it to Choi Yeo-min and crawled back under the covers.
“Your blanket is completely soaked.”
“I’ve been sweating too much—ugh.”
“Seo-yul-nim?”
My vision blurred, fading in and out, before a sharp, needle-like pain spread across my skin. My body convulsed, and I collapsed onto the bed, clutching my arms as uncontrollable tremors wracked my body.
“Seo-yul-nim!”
The moment Choi Yeo-min’s hand touched my shoulder, the darkness consuming my vision swallowed me whole. His voice, calling out to me, grew distant—until it disappeared entirely.
When I finally opened my eyes again, I was surrounded by nothing but darkness. It was so pitch black that I wasn’t sure if my eyes were even open. The fever still hadn’t broken.
I blinked sluggishly before closing my eyes again, drawing in a shaky breath through my stifled lungs. That was when I caught the faint scent of familiar flowers. Without thinking, I reached toward it.
Could it be you?
My fingers grasped at empty air, touching nothing—but somehow, I felt as if he were right there. Then… was this a dream? He wasn’t in the estate. I knew that much. But the scent was so vivid, so real.
Slowly lowering my hand, I parted my lips. What should I call him? My mouth hesitated before finally uttering a name I hadn’t spoken in so long.
“Vin…”
Lost in my fevered haze, I didn’t even register the name I had called. But once my lips had spoken it, they couldn’t seem to stop.
Vin, Vin, Vin. Why did you do it?
A fleeting warmth brushed against my limp, sweat-drenched hand before vanishing just as quickly. Only then did I realize—this was all just a fever dream. A faint smile tugged at my lips.
Of course. There’s no way you’d be here.
—Don’t hate me. You’re all I have, Seo-yul-hyung.
Once, long ago, he had clung to me, whispering those words.
Eight years should have been enough time for everything to change, and yet, he remained frozen, still the same child he had been back then.
A boy who had never known what true love was had grown up twisted, incapable of letting go of the only person who had ever shown him affection. And now, he dared to call that love. Even though he had never truly understood what love meant.
I had always pitied him. I knew his story better than anyone, having read it in books, and perhaps that was why I could empathize with his pain so deeply.
That was why I had wanted to change everything. His fate had been far too cruel. He was too beautiful to be tainted by the darkness of this world. I wanted him to see only beautiful things, to live under the warmth of the sun, even if only from now on.
But in the end, I was nothing more than an outsider who had stumbled into this world. I couldn’t change a single thing. Everything had unfolded exactly as fate had dictated. The only thing that hadn’t followed the natural course of this world… was me.
I should have hated him. The one who destroyed my district, who killed Se-yul. I should have pushed him away, rejected him with every fiber of my being. Even if it was fate, even if it was inevitable—because I was Han Seo-yul.
—”I love you, Seo-yul-hyung.”
If only we had never met, neither of us would have to suffer like this.
***
“…I’m sorry.”
Whatever he was dreaming about, Seo-yul was crying.
Choi Yeo-min had only intended to check on him and leave, but the moment he saw Seo-yul start to sob, he froze.
“Vin…”
Seo-yul kept calling out a name.
Vin… Who was that?
Yeo-min thought about it for a moment before realizing—Vin was none other than Vincent Shining, the owner of this bedroom.
He acted like he hated him, yet here he was, whispering his name in his sleep with such heartbreaking desperation. Or… maybe not? If he was apologizing, then perhaps it wasn’t like that after all. Since he had uncovered nothing solid about Han Seo-yul yet, it was impossible to be sure.
Then again, was Vincent Shining even capable of feelings?
Ask anyone in District 1, and they’d all say the same thing: Vincent Shining was nothing more than a rabid dog who knew only how to tear people apart.
Love? What a joke.
Yeo-min sat carefully on the edge of the bed and reached out to wipe away Seo-yul’s tears. He hadn’t eaten for days, his body reduced to little more than skin and bone, yet even sleep wouldn’t grant him peace. A small act of comfort was all Yeo-min could offer.
They really don’t look alike at all.
He should have known the moment that familiar name left Seo-yul’s lips, but their appearances were so drastically different that the thought had never even crossed his mind.
He did mention having an older brother.
Back then, Han Se-yul would always talk about his sickly brother whenever he got the chance. He was supposed to have attended school with them, but his frail health had kept him confined to the mansion.
Yeo-min had never imagined that brother would turn out to be Han Seo-yul. And even more shocking was his connection to Vincent Shining.
Of course, thanks to Seo-yul, Yeo-min had been able to enter the District 1 estate without suspicion.
What the hell do I do with this…?
He pulled a small slip of paper from where he had hidden it. Ever since Seo-yul had asked him, he had been looking into Se-yul’s whereabouts.
And what he had found was… reassuring.
Se-yul’s life was not in danger, and his recovery was going smoothly. Yeo-min had felt genuine relief upon hearing the news. Even if they had grown apart, they had once spent countless hours together.
But the real problem was whether he should tell Seo-yul.
I can’t afford to be careless.
For now, he couldn’t risk making an enemy of Vincent Shining. If even he had managed to learn of Han Se-yul’s whereabouts, there was no way Vincent didn’t know as well.
And yet, he was keeping it from Seo-yul.
There had to be a reason for that.
After a long pause, Yeo-min tucked the note back into his pocket. His gaze lingered on Seo-yul, who had finally fallen into a deep, undisturbed sleep.
It was cruel, but there was nothing he could do. Unless Vincent himself decided to tell him, Yeo-min had too much at stake to reveal the truth.
“…Han Se-yul.”
He murmured the name, letting it roll off his tongue after all these years.
The memories it stirred made him smile unconsciously—but as soon as he noticed, he wiped the expression from his face.
What was the point of reminiscing over something that had already ended?
He had made up his mind to sever all meaningless attachments.
There was no room left for sentiment.
After confirming that Seo-yul was sleeping soundly, Yeo-min rose to his feet and quietly left the room.
The moment he opened the door, the moonlight poured in.
He scowled.
No matter how many times he saw it, it never failed to disgust him.
