“What do you mean by that?”
Even though I had clearly heard what Han Jae-hoon just said, my mind simply refused to process it. I desperately tried to deny it.
I must have misheard. Or maybe Han Jae-hoon had just misspoken for a moment.
“Father, I misheard you, right?”
There was no way Han Jae-hoon didn’t understand what it meant to leave Vin behind in District 1. So please, let it not be true. Let it just be a slip of the tongue. I silently prayed as I waited for his response.
“No, you heard correctly.”
I had tried so hard to deny it, but Han Jae-hoon drove the final nail in, leaving me with no escape. My vision blurred as my mind spun between disbelief and fleeting hope, only to crash back into reality. Clenching my trembling hands into fists, I forced myself to speak calmly.
“But Father, Vin was ‘disposed of’ in District 1—”
“The District 1 leader made an offer. If we return Shining, they’ll double the power supply they send to our district from now on.”
Now I understood. This was a deal. A trade. Giving up Vin in exchange for electricity.
Even in a world where human life had lost all value, I never thought Han Jae-hoon of all people would force such a decision on me.
No, that wasn’t right. Han Jae-hoon was just another human, after all. He might have been endlessly kind to me, but he was also the same man who had ruthlessly abused Vin when he was first brought in. This was who he had always been.
So what had I been hoping for?
“So you’re saying we should trade Vin for electricity? And you got me to promise in advance so I wouldn’t refuse?”
“……”
“Father, isn’t that too cowardly?”
Even after hearing my bitter accusation, Han Jae-hoon remained silent. I let out a hollow laugh in disbelief.
He had made me promise beforehand so that I wouldn’t be able to refuse. It was so despicable.
I raised my hands to cover my face. I didn’t even know how to look at him right now. Until I calmed down, it was better to just block everything out.
After a moment, once I had barely managed to suppress my turbulent emotions, I forced myself to finish the conversation as indifferently as possible. I didn’t want to be disappointed in Han Jae-hoon any further.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”
“My dear…”
“I know how important electricity is. But this isn’t right. You know exactly what will happen if we leave Vin here. You know everything, yet you’re asking me to abandon him? Why are you doing this to me?”
The more I spoke, the more the emotions I had fought to suppress began to rise again. I had to calm down. But I couldn’t.
Tears welled up and spilled down my cheeks. Han Jae-hoon, startled, reached out, but I stepped back, avoiding his touch.
Lifting my arms, I wiped away the tears roughly, making sure he saw me do it.
Right now, I didn’t want to be anywhere near Han Jae-hoon. I hated him too much. I was too angry. The sheer cowardice of trying to force me into such a choice was so disgusting it made me sick.
“My dear, I know what you’re worried about. But that won’t happen.”
“Why not? Did the District 1 leader promise to take good care of Vin if we left him there?”
Han Jae-hoon hesitated before nodding.
He always used to say never to trust the Shining. And yet, he believed them now? Like some naive child? It was ridiculous.
“They won’t kill him. That, I can guarantee. What you’re afraid of will never happen.”
The moment the word “guarantee” left his mouth, I couldn’t hold back my laughter. I laughed so hard I teared up, and only after getting it all out did I start tearing his nonsense apart.
“Even if they don’t kill him, he’ll just live as miserably as before. He’ll be nameless again, called nothing but a bug, struggling to hide so no one notices him! You don’t even know how Vin lived here, do you? That’s why you can say things like that.”
“My dear, just listen to me a little more—”
“No, I don’t want to hear it. Don’t say anything. Just leave. I don’t want to see your face right now.”
Han Jae-hoon tried to step closer. But my fury was too overwhelming—I shoved him back with all my strength. He wobbled slightly but didn’t move from his spot.
A string of curses burned at the tip of my tongue. But I couldn’t bring myself to spit them out.
As much as I despised him for trying to trade Vin for electricity, I couldn’t say I didn’t understand.
Han Jae-hoon valued me, but he also cherished District 5 just as much. Every time the power supply dwindled each quarter and the people suffered, he was in pain. I knew that, so I couldn’t bring myself to completely hate him.
“This isn’t just for our district. It’s a decision for your sake as well, my dear.”
“In what way is this for me?”
Now he was changing his words, claiming it was all for my sake.
If he had really thought of me, he wouldn’t have even brought this up in the first place.
If the District 1 leader wanted Vin, he should have just said no. Or at the very least, found another compromise.
Han Jae-hoon avoided my gaze, unable to face the resentment burning in my eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was strained.
“…It’s because of that child.”
“What the hell are you—”
“The reason your manifestation pains were so severe, the reason your pheromones were unstable… It was all because that child was an Alpha.”
“!!”
I had vaguely considered the possibility that Vin might be an Alpha. But what did that have to do with my manifestation pains or my pheromones?
My mind filled with endless questions, leaving me speechless. Taking advantage of the silence, Han Jae-hoon continued.
“I just heard it from Lady Xenia. Seo-yul, before you even fully manifested, you were exposed to an Alpha’s pheromones for an extended period of time. That’s why you became an unstable Omega. That’s why you had those unexplained fevers, why you collapsed…”
Han Jae-hoon let out a deep sigh, pausing briefly.
Xenia—she was the old woman I had sought out the moment I arrived in District 1. She was also an Omega, just like me.
She had clearly shown interest in Vin and had tried to tell me something.
I never got to hear the rest because of an unexpected intruder, but… was this what she had been trying to say?
The unease in my chest slowly solidified into certainty.
“If you continue staying with that child, it won’t just be that you go into heat at random. The heat will become constant… and it will eventually kill you.”
“What…?”
The fact that Vin, the one closest to me, was the cause of the fever that had tormented me all this time—it was too hard to believe. My first thought was that Han Jae-hoon was lying.
That he was saying these terrifying things just to shake me, to force me into letting Vin go because he knew I would never do it otherwise.
But as if mocking my desperate denial, his eyes held not a single trace of deceit.
I had to accept it.
Everything Han Jae-hoon said was the truth.
“No. That’s a lie. You’re just trying to take Vin away from me.”
“My dear, you know that’s not true.”
“No!! You’re lying!!”
I screamed, covering my ears.
I didn’t want to hear anything else. I wanted to turn away from this truth that was crashing down on me like violence.
Han Jae-hoon gently pried my hands away from my ears. Unlike before, when he had been restless, his gaze was now eerily calm as he looked at me. His lips moved slowly.
“Just remember this. If anything happens to you, I won’t hesitate to kill that child.”
A chilling intent brushed against my skin.
***
Vin, having been chased out by Han Jae-hoon, stood idly by the door, passing the time. He had no idea what they were talking about inside, but the conversation had been going on for quite a while.
Kicking at the ground absentmindedly, he noticed an ant struggling to crawl past him. He stared at the insignificant little life wriggling before him, and only then did he realize—he was standing in the light without a second thought.
‘That’s strange.’
Had he ever looked up at the towering moon so freely before?
He had spent his whole life avoiding people’s eyes, which meant avoiding light, too. He had never taken the time to observe the moon like this.
Back in this grand and luxurious mansion, the only place he had ever been able to rest was the garbage dump in the underground passage.
That place had been damp, reeking of filth, and shrouded in darkness like a cave where no proper light could reach.
To others, Vin had been even less than a lowly insect crawling on the ground. Just the sight of him was repulsive to them, so they called him a bug, trash—anything but his name. If their eyes happened to meet his, they would scream and throw stones at him.
‘Well, not that I care.’
It wasn’t as if he held any particular feelings toward District 1.
His childhood had been miserably, unbearably wretched, but it was already in the past.
Vin was that kind of person.
He couldn’t empathize with others, nor could he even sympathize with himself.
What was in the past was simply in the past. That was all.
People said that a Shining who had been “disposed of” had returned.
But Vin had never once wanted to return here.
He had simply ended up here because things had gone wrong.
Once this was over, he would leave for District 5 with Seo-yul.
This colorless, gray world held no meaning for him—except for Seo-yul.
In his dull, monochrome existence, Seo-yul was the only one who had color.
Nothing else mattered. No one else was important.
He had long since realized that his feelings for Seo-yul were far from simple.
At first, he had thought it was enough just to be with him.
But as those feelings grew, they twisted into a possessiveness so consuming that he wanted to hide Seo-yul away somewhere no one else could find him, just for himself.
Of course, Seo-yul didn’t know.
But one day, perhaps, he would make it happen.
It was his only delusion—his only hope.
Click.
At the sound of the door unlocking, Vin shook off his thoughts and pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against.
He had expected Han Jae-hoon to come out first, but this time, it was Seo-yul who stepped out.
Relieved to see him, Vin started to move toward him—but then he stopped.
Seo-yul’s eyes were red and swollen.
He had been crying.
“…Did you cry?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Seo-yul lied—so obviously that it was almost ridiculous.
As always, he smiled beautifully, but the sadness lingering in his gaze wouldn’t fade, no matter how much he tried to mask it.
He was saying he hadn’t cried, even though it was clear that he had.
Vin wanted to ask why.
But those dark, wavering eyes seemed to plead with him not to ask.
In the end, Vin could only nod silently, keeping his mouth shut.
