3) What Must Happen, Happens
Before dawn had even broken, Ha-jin was already up and moving about with practiced efficiency. He made porridge for Yushin, prepared his prescribed meds and supplements, and set them all neatly on the dining table.
Last night, when he’d finally come home late from work due to an unexpected incident, he’d found Yushin collapsed in bed, sick. With an immune system weaker than a rubber band, it wasn’t an unfamiliar situation, but of all days, it had to be the one when he’d come home late. That made it sting all the more.
His brother’s desk was still covered with signs of intense studying. Yushin, whose body was so frail that even daily life was a struggle, had likely pushed himself out of guilt—because Ha-jin was always looking after him, or because he was ashamed of his own condition.
He could still picture him, sick as he was, sitting at the computer studying design tools, determined to find some freelance work to help with money. It weighed heavily on Ha-jin’s mind.
In my past life, I snapped and told him to just do nothing and take care of his health…
Now that he’d been given a second chance, he wanted to do it all better this time. Much better. Ha-jin tidied the desk a bit, then walked over to the sleeping Yushin, checked his temperature, and gently shook him awake.
“Wake up, Yushin. Eat some porridge, take your meds, and then go back to sleep. I’ve got to go to work.”
“Oh… yeah… sorry. I didn’t hear the alarm again.”
“I turned it off before it went off. Can you wash up on your own?”
His silence said enough—he was still dizzy. Ha-jin helped him up and sat him at the table, then brought over a wet towel so he could wash his face and hands.
Such a sweet little brother. He could’ve easily whined or thrown a fit—I’m sick, You don’t understand, Screw all this—but no. Even now, look at him: obediently lifting weak hands to eat, just because he was told to. It made Ha-jin feel grateful.
“I wish I could stay with you today, but I can’t.”
He said it gently, watching Yushin’s trembling hand struggle to hold the spoon. Yushin gave a small smile and shook his head.
“No, it’s fine. I just woke up, that’s all. Once the sun’s up, I’ll feel better.”
“What are you, a flower? Getting energy from the sun?”
“Maybe not a flower. More like a weed?”
Weed? Please. There’s no such thing as a weed this pretty.
Suppressing a smile, Ha-jin took the empty bowl and handed him a glass of water. Then, like always, he began his checklist of reminders.
“When you go to the bathroom, take your phone with you. If anything feels even slightly off, call 119, and call me right away. If I don’t answer, call Mari noona.”
“Got it.”
“Don’t hold back.”
“I said I’m fine.”
With his heavy work bag slung over his shoulder, Ha-jin paused again at the front door and turned back.
“Make sure you finish the porridge. Don’t take your meds on an empty stomach.”
“Go already.”
Just before the door shut completely, he added, Call me later! He caught Yushin laughing from behind as he stepped out—persistent as always. That image warmed him on his way to work.
Down the sloped alley stretching toward the main road, golden morning sunlight poured in. Ha-jin glanced down at his scuffed shoes as they clacked against the uneven concrete. I really need new ones, he thought, but he kept putting it off.
He looked back one more time, lingering. The house was long out of sight, but he still felt tethered—his thoughts hooked like a fishing line, unwilling to let go of Yushin.
If you were going to send me back in time, you could’ve sent me even further…
He found himself grumbling at a god he didn’t even believe in. If only he’d gone back to the day before their father died. He could’ve stopped the accident. Yushin wouldn’t be like this.
And maybe he wouldn’t have ended up spending his life using his body to bottle Alpha pheromones.
“Haaah…”
The thought of seeing Cheon Tae-seong again made his steps feel ten times heavier.
“Hey, Ha-jin!”
He was staring down at the ground with a sullen look when someone called out to him.
“Still an early bird, huh? Out for work at the crack of dawn.”
“Good morning.”
It was Go Yeon-mok, the owner of the convenience store at the end of the alley—and also the landlord of the multi-family unit where Ha-jin and Yushin had been renting for a year.
He wasn’t short on property, either. Ha-jin knew of at least a few other rental units Yeon-mok owned in the area, probably enough to live comfortably without ever working again. But the man was unusually industrious and ran three convenience stores himself. Always preaching that this is how you succeed.
“Still doing night shifts yourself, sir? That’s impressive.”
Ha-jin said what he knew the man liked to hear.
They weren’t due for lease renewal anytime soon, and they weren’t behind on rent, so there was no real reason to talk—but the landlord always managed to corner him into a conversation. Yushin wasn’t making noise during the day or anything. Still, whenever Ha-jin ran into Yeon-mok, he felt weirdly anxious and found himself falling into a submissive posture.
“You’re dressed too light for this chilly morning. Isn’t that too thin?”
Yeon-mok narrowed his small eyes, examining Ha-jin’s outfit. A white short-sleeve shirt and thin beige slacks—not to the older man’s liking. He stared at it with disapproval.
“Want to borrow my windbreaker? It’s designer, believe it or not.”
“I’m fine. I’ve got a cardigan in my bag.”
“Is it ‘cause you feel bad? Don’t. This is nothing to me.”
He shook out the windbreaker dramatically. Ha-jin just gave a polite, crinkled-nose smile.
“Well, alright then. But don’t blame me if you catch a cold.”
It was still early, and the convenience store behind him was empty. As usual, it fell on Ha-jin to wriggle out of the conversation.
“The weather’s been unpredictable lately—people are getting sick left and right. How about I treat you to some premium Korean beef? Just got rid of a real headache of a tenant, so I’m in a good mood. Your brother can come too if he wants. If restaurants are too much, we can just do it at my place.”
Just as Yeon-mok stepped in a little closer, trying to set a date, a loud honk blared behind them.
Startled, Ha-jin turned to see a massive black sedan gleaming under the morning light. The tightly spaced chrome grille and the small goddess hood ornament made it instantly recognizable—Cheon Tae-seong’s car. But he should’ve been in the hospital at this hour, which made Ha-jin slow to react.
The beast of a car flashed its high beams aggressively.
“Ahh! My eyes!” Yeon-mok cried, shielding his face.
As Ha-jin floundered in confusion, the car door slammed, and the sound of leather shoes echoed closer. It was Tae-seong.
But just before reaching Ha-jin, he suddenly turned back. He marched to the driver’s side, knocked on the window, received something, and came back. Then—pssh, pssh—he started spraying pheromone neutralizer all over the place.
He covered his nose with his sleeve and made a disgusted face, all irritation and no filter.
“Was that your brother’s pheromone? It’s strong.”
“How did you get here?”
Ha-jin wiped the damp mist from his hand, but Tae-seong twisted his lips.
“I drove.”
“No, I mean…”
Ha-jin was about to press for an actual explanation, but fell silent when Tae-seong shoved the neutralizer into his pants pocket. It felt like being told, Clean yourself up.
“I was going to shower before work—if you hadn’t shown up at my doorstep at the crack of dawn…”
“Oh, you mean ‘Fluffy Bathhouse’?”
It’s Boseong Bathhouse, not Bbosong. How much digging had he done? Ha-jin furrowed his brow slightly, but Tae-seong kept going.
“I heard you go monthly. How much do they charge?”
Maybe he hadn’t looked into the pricing? Ha-jin was about to answer—it wasn’t exactly a secret—but Tae-seong waved a hand.
“Never mind. I’m not that curious.”
He turned halfway around and nodded toward the car. A silent order to follow. Ha-jin rushed after him, only to have his wrist grabbed.
He froze, about to jerk away, but forced himself to turn around calmly. It was landlord Go Yeon-mok, wearing a face that clearly said explanation, please.
Tae-seong answered for him.
“Lee Ha-jin, the CEO’s waiting.”
He leaned on the open car door, one elbow propped, voice raised like a megaphone.
Embarrassed, Ha-jin’s face flushed red as he bowed to Yeon-mok. The landlord’s hand slowly fell away, powerless.
“What’re you waiting for? Get in.”
Already in the car, Tae-seong shouted again, impatient.
Ha-jin reached for the front passenger door—but click, it didn’t budge. Locked.
He always used to sit in the passenger seat of this car.
Something felt off, but he didn’t have time to think about it. As he hesitated, he approached the backseat. Tae-seong was already sitting inside, eyes fixed on the laptop on his knees, not even looking up.
That’s when Ha-jin really noticed him.
The deep-colored suit was immaculately pressed. His shirt, buttoned to the top, was crisp and white as snow. A black tie with subtle polka dots gave the whole look a refined touch.
He looked stunning—as if he hadn’t just slept in a hospital bed the night before. The backseat might as well have bloomed with flowers. Ha-jin couldn’t help but picture a massive bouquet of peonies.
Probably because of what Yushin had said earlier—Once the sun rises, I get stronger, like he was some kind of flower. So now Ha-jin couldn’t stop thinking about flowers. That, and Tae-seong’s pheromones literally smelled like them.
Sneaking glances, clutching his bag, Ha-jin climbed in. Tae-seong smirked.
“What, you checking out how handsome your CEO is?”
“N-no, not at all. Really.”
Honestly, he might’ve looked like a flower, but the way he jabbed at people with words made him more like a damn wasp.
