The days passed quietly as usual, the city outside the car a blur of muted colors and restless motion. Soo-hyun sat comfortably in the passenger seat, legs crossed, his gaze fixed on the glowing screen of his tablet. His expression was unreadable at first—calm, composed, even distant. But then, a faint curl tugged at the corner of his lips.
He was reading articles—one after another, each headline louder than the last.
Reports detailing how all of Jisung's former victims had risen from the shadows, their voices lawsuits. Every one of them sought retribution.
Soo-hyun's smirk widened, sharp and deliberate, the kind of grin that carried both satisfaction and mischief. His eyes glinted with something close to triumph—a silent declaration that the tables had turned.
From the driver's seat, Kiyonari caught sight of him through the rearview mirror. His fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel, eyes flicking back and forth between the road and Soo-hyun's reflection. He didn't need to ask what had him smiling that way. He already knew.
It was the fall of the Kwons—an empire cracking beneath the weight of its own corruption. Jisung's carefully built façade was collapsing, piece by piece, and those he had trampled on were now fighting back.
Even Ms. Song, the woman who once refused to speak a word, had come forward to tell her story.
Kiyonari exhaled quietly, his gaze darkening with thought. I just hope they win this.
He knew too well how cruelly the world favored the powerful. Laws bent easily for men like Jisung. Justice was always blind—it just turned its head for the right price.
His hands tightened again on the steering wheel, knuckles pale under the dim light. The hum of the engine filled the silence between them, but Kiyonari's mind was far from still.
The gamble in this is too much, he thought grimly. Powerful and greedy people always win when it comes to justice...
And yet, watching Soo-hyun's quiet, dangerous smile reflected in the mirror, he wondered—just this once—if maybe, power had finally met its match.
Not long after, the sleek black sedan rolled to a gentle stop at the curb in front of a towering high-rise hotel. The building loomed above them, glass, steal, and its polished façade reflecting the afternoon sun like it wanted to blind whoever dared to look too long.
Soo-hyun exhaled sharply through his nose, recognizing the place instantly. A familiar wave of annoyance washed over him. He didn't even need to ask what this was about. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered under his breath.
He stepped out of the car, the door shutting with a dull thud that echoed his irritation.
Behind him, Kiyonari closed the driver's door and approached, his posture crisp yet cautious. He could already sense the temperature of his boss's mood dropping several degrees. "Sir, is everything alright?" He asked carefully, his voice low, measured.
Soo-hyun turned to him with a cold scoff. "Do I look alright to you?" He snapped, his tone laced with venomous sarcasm. "What the hell is going on here, Mr. Soo? Why am I still doing this ridiculous matchmaking nonsense?"
Kiyonari sighed faintly, almost imperceptibly, through his nose. "I'm sorry, sir. I know for a fact that you dislike the idea of meeting potential partners... but the Association insisted you continue—for the sake of completing the trial properly."
"Trial, my ass," Soo-hyun muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair. His patience was wearing thinner with each word. "Haven't they learned their lesson from the last time? Just how many disasters does it take before they wake up from their delusions?"
"Would you like me to send a message and request to terminate the trial here?" Kiyonari offered evenly. "We can also have your name permanently removed from their list, if you wish."
Soo-hyun pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, exhaling a long, weary breath. "No. Forget it."
Kiyonari nodded once. "Understood, sir."
Without another word, he stepped aside and gestured toward the entrance. The two men entered the restaurant—Soo-hyun walking with reluctant strides, Kiyonari trailing a respectful distance behind.
The restaurant was a portrait of luxury: crystal chandeliers glittering overhead, soft jazz humming in the background, and faint aroma of expensive coffee lingering in the air. At a table near the window sat the next candidate.
The man stood as they approached—neatly dressed, polished, and polite. Everything about him screamed refinement. Clean records, prestigious family, spotless reputation.
Kiyonari introduced him formally, his voice steady. As he did, he couldn't help but think, the Association must've tightened their vetting process after the last fiasco. They're being extra careful this time.
Or so he thought...
Once the introduction were done, Soo-hyun sat down across from the man, his expression unreadable but visibly unamused. Kiyonari retreated a few paces, choosing a discreet corner to stand watch from. His eyes stayed sharp, observant—ready, just in case the Director needed rescuing from yet another failed "date".
*****
[Minutes later]
The restaurant doors swung open, and Soo-hyun emerged with an exasperated sigh, fingers already loosening his tie. "Ugh...! That man talked nonstop about girl idols and fan meetings." He dragged a hand down his face, visibly exhausted. "Does he have an obsession or something?"
He climbed into the back seat of the car, still grumbling. "I swear, he listed every member of every idol group from the past decade. I was even told I look like one of his favorite!"
Kiyonari slid into the driver's seat, glancing at him briefly through the mirror. "Would you like me to cancel your dinner appointment with him, sir?"
"Yeah," Soo-hyun responded almost immediately, slumping against the seat. "I don't want to spend my life with an obsessive fanboy like him."
"Understood, sir," Kiyonari replied simply, starting the engine.
As the car pulled away from the curb, Soo-hyun stared out the tinted window, his reflection faint against the city lights. The Association might keep pushing him into these trials, but every encounter only reminded him how far he was from what they wanted him to become.
Soon, the black sedan rolled to a gentle stop in front of a grand condominium building, its towering glasses facade gleaming under the soft city lights. The quiet hum of the engine faded as the door on the passenger side opened.
Soo-hyun stepped out, one polished shoe hitting the pavement, then the other. He straightened his posture, tugging lightly on the hem of his tailored suit jacket, a habit of precision rather than necessity.
Behind him, Kiyonari exited the driver's seat and closed the door with a firm click. The cool evening breeze tousled his hair as he approached.
Soo-hyun turned slightly, his eyes sharp and tired. He pressed his lips together before speaking. "Leave the car," he said curtly.
"I'll have someone else take care of it."
Kiyonari blinked in mild surprise but quickly nodded. "Oh, yes sir."
He bowed politely. "Have a good night, sir—"
"You." Soo-hyun's voice cut through the air like a blade.
Kiyonari straightened immediately. "Sir?"
"Save my number."
"I..." He faltered for a second, unsure if he heard him right. "I'm sorry?"
"I said, save my number," Soo-hyun repeated, his tone edged with impatience. "How am I supposed to contact you when I need you?"
Kiyonari's eyes widened slightly before realization hit. "Oh!" He exclaimed, fumbling for his phone. "Of course, Director Je. I'll save it right away."
Soo-hyun gave a faint, dismissive nod. "Good. Now leave. I want to rest."
"Yes, sir. Have a pleasant rest," Kiyonari replied, bowing again with a respectful dip of his head.
Soo-hyun turned without another word, the soft click of his shoes echoing against the marble steps as he disappeared into the building's illuminated lobby.
The night had deepened. At a nearby bus stop, Kiyonari sat slumped against the cold metal bench, his posture weary, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. The faint rumble of the city stretched around him—distant horns, the buzz of street lamps, the whisper of passing cars.
He let out a along sigh, head tipping back. Damn... I feel like I could pass out any moment now, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck. His muscles ached, his body begging for rest after a long day spent following his temperamental boss.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone. The screen lit up with several unread messages. The name flashing at the top made him smile faintly.
"Seong-jun..." He murmured.
The messages were as blunt as ever:
[Hey! Didn't I tell you not to go anywhere?! Where are you? Seriously, take a day off for once, for fuck's sake.]
Kiyonari couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. "He's such a worrywart," he muttered, shaking his head.
Still, his smile softened. I feel bad for always making him worry like this... he's been like that ever since I told him about my family situation.
He exhaled slowly, his gaze drifting toward the dimly lit road. Even more so now, he thought bitterly. Especially after what happened during my rut.
[A few days ago]
A sharp clang rang through the apartment as Seong-jun slammed his cup down on the table, coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim.
"Seriously, you big idiot!" He yelled, voice low but seething with frustration. "What were you thinking going out like that when Dr. Lee told you not strode around for the time being? Let alone go near an Omega!"
Kiyonari stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck like a child being scolded. "Ah, well..."
"Don't ah, well me!" Seong-jun barked, leaning forward with both palms flat on the table. "Do you want to get fired? Or worse, end up in court for attempted assault? Because that's what it would've looked like if he had reported you!"
Kiyonari winced, his lips curling into a sheepish grin. "C'mon, he wouldn't do that. So relax."
Seong-jun froze, then blinked. "Wait. He wouldn't? What do you mean by that?"
"Yup," Kiyonari replied with a shrug, shifting his weight. "He told me himself he won't report me. Besides, no mating happened that day—I was able to control myself."
Seong-jun gnawed at him. "And you believe that?!" He barked, voice cracking with disbelief. "Kiyo, that man could ruin your career with just a flick of his finger! Are you insane?!"
Kiyonari could only rub the back of his neck again, his grin turning nervous. "Maybe. But I don't think Director Je will go back on his words."
He's not that type of person, Kiyonari believed.
Seong-jun shifted his weight, arms folding across his chest. His brows furrowed deeply, voice edged with disbelief. "How are you so sure he won't just change his mind and report you? You don't even know the guy that well, Kiyo."
Kiyonari glanced up at him, then away again, his expression uncertain. "Well..." He murmured, rubbing his palms together, "even if he does change his mind..."
Seong-jun narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Kiyonari turned his head slightly to the side, gaze distant, voice softening. "I don't really know.... what I'll do if it comes down to that."
For a moment, silence settled between them. The usual spark in Kiyonari's eyes dimmed, replaced by something fragile, maybe even quiet fear. His shoulders slumped, and his whole aura seemed defeated.
Seong-jun let out a rough sigh, dragging a hand down his face. "And to think, you sounded so sure earlier. Acting like you had everything under control."
Kiyonari forced out a dry, hollow laugh.
"Ha... ha ha... yeah. Guess I'm not as confident as I thought." His laughter carried no life—just exhaustion."
"Honestly," Seong-jun muttered, shaking his head. "You should've been more careful. They don't usually hire Alphas as secretaries to high-ranking Omegas like him. But since you lied about your gender on the application..." He trailed off, sighing again. "There's no way they've could've known."
Kiyonari bit his lip, his gaze dropping to the floor. "... Yeah."
A pause. Then, in a low, hesitant voice, "Um... hey, Seong-jun..."
"Hm?" Seong-jun looked up, his tone still rough but attentive.
Kiyonari fidgeted, fingers tapping lightly on the table before curling into a fist. He looked like he was fighting with himself—wanting to speak, yet dreading the reaction that would follow. After a long pause, he finally said, in a near whisper, "Actually... the truth is..."
Seong-jun straightened, sensing something was off. His eyes stayed on Kiyonari, waiting.
Kiyonari swallowed hard.
For a moment, there was only silence. The words seemed to hang on the air, refusing to sink in. Then, slowly, Seong-jun's eyes widened—first in confusion, then in absolute disbelief.
His lips parted, trembling slightly.
"W-What?!"
Kiyonari flinched at his tone, shoulders instinctively tensing. He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eyes contact. "Why are you so shocked...?" He muttered under his breath.
"You thought—" Seong-jun's voice cracked. "You thought he was a Beta all this time?!"
"Y-Yeah..." Kiyonari stammered, cheeks heating in embarrassment. "It's actually pretty embarrassing to say it out loud, since I've been working there for almost a month now and I had no idea."
"Embarrassing?" Seong-jun barked, his voice rising a notch. "Kiyo, that's not just embarrassing—it's stupid! Sound so stupid." He threw hands up in exasperation. "You're such an idiot—Hashida Kiyonari!"
The sound of his full name hit like a slap.
Kiyonari winced, looking up in protest. "Hey! What's up with calling my full Japanese name?!" His tone was defensive, but there was no real anger in it—just mortification.
"And I get it, alright? It was stupid of me."
"I'm pretty sure they've already told you back at the interview."
"I was..."
"You weren't paying much attention back then, am I right?"
"..."
Seong-jun groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Unbelievable... you really need a babysitter, not a best friend."
Kiyonari sighed deeply, sinking into his chair. "Yeah, well... too bad you're already stuck with me."
Despite his irritation, Seong-jun couldn't help the faint twitch at the corner of his lips. "You're hopeless." He muttered.
"I know," Kiyonari said softly, eyes lowering again—his tone half a joke, half the weight of something he didn't dare say aloud.
Seong-jun let out yet another long, heavy sigh—the kind that sounded like he was exhaling all his patience at once. "Man," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, "I don't really know what to do with you anymore, Kiyo."
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes narrowing in mild frustration. "You should really start listening to your doctor."
Kiyonari looked up, blinking. "Why are you suddenly bringing up Dr. Lee?" He asked, puzzled.
His friend flopped onto the couch beside him, sinking into the cushions with a tired groan. "Because," he said, staring up at the ceiling, "I heard that an Alpha's rut lasts longer than an Omega's heat cycle."
Kiyonari stayed quiet, his jaw tightening slightly at the reminder.
Seong-jun tilted his head toward him, brows knitting. "But then again," he continued, "you were able to leave that night without any problem. And you're not even releasing that thick, ugly pheromone of yours anymore."
Ugly? He echoed softly in his mind.
Kiyonari blinked, a faint crease forming between his brows, unsure whether to take offense or laugh it off.
Seong-jun looked at him curiously, as if studying him for answers. "Why do you think that is?"
Kiyonari dropped his gaze to the floor, his expression turning distant. "I don't know either," he admitted after a pause. "But my guess is because of the inhibitor I took that day."
He rubbed his thumb against his palm absently, as if trying to remember the sensation. "The dosage was higher than what I'm usually prescribed."
Seong-jun's brows furrowed even deeper. "Damn," he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "That's tough."
Kiyonari let out a small, humorless chuckle. "Yeah, it does," he said quietly, though his faint smile didn't reach his eyes.
Silence fell between them—a heavy, uneasy silence that seemed to settle over the room like a thick fog. The sound of the clock ticking on the wall filled the space, marking every second that passed.
Finally, Kiyonari spoke again, his voice softer this time. "But... that's what I need the most."
Seong-jun glanced sideways at him, concern flickering in his gaze. "Kiyo..."
Kiyonari didn't meet his eyes. Instead, he stared down at his hands—trembling faintly. He could still remember the burn in his veins from that doubled dose, the way his body fought against itself, and the pounding ache behind his skull that didn't ease for hours.
He knew it wasn't safe. Dr. Lee had warned him multiple times about the risks—organ strain, hormonal imbalance, long-termside effects. But what choice did he have?
He can't go back to the standard dosage. It was too weak now, too unreliable. And if anyone at the company ever found out what he truly was—an Alpha posing as a Beta—he'd lose everything.
So he made his decision.
If he wanted to keep his job, his carefully built life, his freedom... then he had to take the drastic route. He had to suppress everything—his instincts, scent, and identity.
It's the only way I can keep everything I have now, he thought bitterly, pressing a hand against his chest as if to steady the ache underneath.
Across from him, Seong-jun watched in silence, his expression softening. He could tell from Kiyonari's eyes that this wasn't just stubbornness—it was desperation.
And that, somehow, worried him more than anything else.