7. The Return of the Death Flag
Each breath I took tightened my chest, the pain waking me from sleep. Looking around, the early dawn felt as if I were submerged in ice-cold water.
“Ugh…”
Clutching my throbbing chest, I sat up, only to find my blanket soaked as if water had been spilled all over it. Lifting my damp hand to my forehead, I felt the heat surging through my body.
Was it starting again? I let out a deep sigh, already familiar with this pain. Kicking off the blanket, I got out of bed and slipped on my slippers, heading toward the medicine drawer.
‘I’m dizzy.’
I staggered over, opened the drawer, and blindly grabbed the suppressant among the countless pills inside, tossing it into my mouth. I tried to swallow it dry, but my throat was too parched.
‘Where’s the water?’
Glancing around, I spotted a water bottle nearby. I reached out, grabbed it, and gulped down just enough to push the pill past my dry throat.
‘Now that I’ve taken the medicine, it should be fine.’
But the moment that thought crossed my mind, my vision wavered as the fever worsened. I needed to get back to bed before someone found me collapsed on the floor again, like last time.
As I moved to put the bottle down, my grip faltered.
Crash!
The sharp sound jolted me, and I snapped my eyes downward. Shards of broken glass lay scattered across the floor, reflecting the dim dawn light like glittering jewels.
“…Ah.”
I lifted my foot slightly to step away, but a sharp sting shot through me. Looking down, I saw a long, fresh cut on my ankle, likely from a shard scraping against my skin.
Beads of blood welled up and seeped into my slipper. Reaching down, I wiped the blood away half-heartedly before dragging myself back to bed. I knew I should treat the wound, but my body had already sunk into the soft sheets.
As if the fever wasn’t already unbearable, the thick scent of chocolate filling the room made my stomach churn.
‘I wish this would pass quickly.’
Even if I had grown accustomed to these unpredictable heat cycles, it didn’t mean I had become numb to the pain. It was always the same—agonizing, suffocating, and maddening.
All I could do was hope and pray that the medicine would work quickly. Exhausted from waiting for its effects to kick in, I eventually drifted into a deep sleep.
When I opened my eyes again, the sun had risen high in the sky, marking the middle of the day.
The first thing I did was check the floor where I had left the broken water bottle.
At some point, someone had come in. The scattered shards had been cleaned up without a trace, and even my bloodstained slippers had been replaced with a fresh pair.
Lowering my feet from the bed, I instinctively touched my forehead. The fever had completely subsided, thanks to the medicine working properly. That was a relief—if the drug hadn’t taken effect, I would’ve been bedridden for days.
Getting up, I paced around the room before finally throwing open the window.
Was summer approaching already? The once-cool breeze now carried the weight of lingering heat.
“The weather’s really nice.”
Leaning against the windowsill, I pulled a cigarette from a silver case. Placing the filter between my lips, I struck a match and lit it. As I took a deep drag, the flame slowly consumed the cigarette.
‘I can finally breathe.’
Exhaling a stream of white smoke, I felt the suffocating pressure in my chest ease, leaving a soft smile lingering on my lips. A strong cup of coffee would’ve made this moment even better, but calling someone just to ask for one felt like too much trouble.
My gaze dropped to my ankle, resting on the windowsill. A scab had already formed over the wound from earlier that morning. Absentmindedly, I ran my fingers over the rough, raised surface, and without thinking, I picked at the edge.
“Tch—shit.”
A sharp sting shot through me as fresh blood welled up, trickling down my ankle in a thin, red line. I wiped the long streak of blood away with my fingers when—
Ahem.
A deliberately awkward cough broke the silence. It was Se-yul.
“When did you get here?”
“Just now.”
Se-yul frowned at the cigarette between my fingers. Taking advantage of his distraction, I casually shifted to conceal my injured ankle.
“A cigarette first thing after waking up? Seriously?”
“It’s just a habit.”
Having learned from experience that scolding me was useless, Se-yul just sighed heavily. Instead, he handed me one of the two mugs he was carrying.
Coffee—the very thing I had been craving.
“Thanks, Se-yul.”
“If I’d known, I would’ve brought you cocoa instead.”
I lightly smacked his shoulder, telling him not to say such horrifying things. Laughing, Se-yul took a step back to escape the cigarette smoke.
“How’s your body feeling today?”
“You didn’t hear about the bottle breaking at dawn?”
“The bottle broke?”
Oh. I had assumed the housekeeper would’ve told him, but apparently not. If only I could take back my words—but it was too late.
“Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
Good thing I had already hidden my ankle. Otherwise, I’d be in for an endless lecture—scolded for not being careful, urged to call the attendants, nagged for not taking better care of myself.
Moments like this always remind me that Se-yul is Han Jae-hoon’s son. They may not look alike, but their personalities are practically identical—especially when it comes to worrying endlessly once they start.
“For God’s sake, be careful, hyung.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“You always say that, but you never actually do.”
Se-yul pouted. I kept making empty promises, saying I’d do better from now on—promises I had no intention of keeping. After all, promises didn’t mean anything to me anymore.
“Oh, right. Father told me to call you.”
“…Again?”
The good mood I had just been in plummeted instantly. There was only one reason Han Jae-hoon would summon me—to check whether the new medication was working.
It had been eight years since I manifested as an Omega, yet Han Jae-hoon still couldn’t let go of his lingering hope. The delusion that, one day, I would return to being “normal.”
Because of that, the leadership of District 5 remained undecided. Han Jae-hoon wanted me, while the elders wanted Se-yul. The unresolved conflict dragged on for years, and before anyone realized it, eight had already passed.
Han Jae-hoon wanted to hide the fact that his son was an Omega, but the problem was that I was a defective one—a broken Omega with unpredictable heat cycles that struck without warning.
Typical Omegas went into heat on a monthly cycle, but mine was so erratic and irregular that there was no way to predict when it would hit.
“Is the medication helping at all?”
“Not at all.”
“So this one’s no good either, huh.”
I had long since given up counting how many different drugs I had tried. From medicines that claimed to regulate an Omega’s heat cycle to those that promised to suppress pheromones, I had taken them all. None had worked.
“Tell him I’m not going.”
“You’re really not going?”
“No, I don’t want to.”
I let out a long sigh, crushed the dwindling cigarette into the ashtray, and climbed down from the windowsill. Taking a final sip of my now-cold coffee, I set the empty cup on the table.
“Wanna go for a walk, hyung?”
Se-yul must have noticed my foul mood. I knew he was trying to cheer me up, but I didn’t feel like going outside today. Lately, I found it exhausting to even step out of my room.
“No, I just want to rest.”
“You’ve been sleeping all day.”
“And I’m going to sleep some more.”
Instead of answering, I simply waved a hand at Se-yul and turned back toward my bed. That was when I noticed the outline of the moon flickering in and out, growing hazy before sharpening again.
For a moment, I thought I was seeing things. I turned fully toward the window, staring at the sky to get a better look.
Se-yul followed my gaze and spotted the shimmering moon as well.
“It’s doing that again.”
“…Has it always been like this?”
“Not often, but sometimes.”
I had spent so much time holed up in my room that I was completely out of touch with what was happening in the world.
I used to at least read the newspaper regularly. But then again, why should I care how this world is turning? None of it had anything to do with me.
“People are saying that District 1 might fall.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Yeah, I think so too.”
We exchanged words as if joking, but the moment passed, and the moon returned to its usual shape. As I stared at the round moon hanging clearly in the sky under the sun, a sharp pain throbbed in my head.
Was it because of the memories I had been trying so hard to forget—no, the ones I desperately wanted to erase?
“Hyung, are you okay?”
Before I realized it, Se-yul had moved closer, supporting me as he asked. I instinctively tried to say I was fine, but my throat felt blocked, and no sound came out.
Ah, not again. The fever was rising.
“Hyung, you’re burning up…”
Se-yul helped me to the bed, pressing his hand against my forehead. I shifted my heavy body to lie on my side, my breath coming in short gasps from the fever as I forced out my words.
“I’m fine. It’ll pass soon.”
“What about your meds?”
“I took one at dawn.”
I wished I could take another every time the fever hit, but the doctor had strictly advised only one pill per day. Suppressing my pheromones too aggressively could cause side effects, so I had no choice but to endure it.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just need to rest.”
Se-yul, still full of concern, hesitated to leave. I waved my hand dismissively, signaling for him to go. Only when he finally closed the door behind him did I let the forced smile slip from my face.
“…This is exhausting.”
The effects of the suppressant from earlier had long since worn off. Now, I was left to fight this battle alone. As the thick scent of chocolate filled the room, I clenched my teeth and struggled to suppress the rampaging pheromones inside me.
By the time my body finally calmed down, an entire day had passed.
With blurred vision, I turned to look at the cold moon hanging in the pitch-black sky. Then, closing my eyes, I let out a slow breath.
I was beyond tired. Completely drained.
