The World of Contrasts Vol. 3 Chapter 2

Author: nicotine

Yukito took a taxi to Roppongi where Ali’s shop was located. When he mentioned having only 2,000 yen, Ali laughed heartily and said he’d send an employee down for him. Until Yukito arrived in front of the bar, he had to mentally map out an escape route from the taxi in case Ali didn’t keep his promise.

Fortunately, the employee Ali sent was already waiting for him on the main street, and Yukito was safely escorted to the bar.

Two blocks away from the upscale area behind Roppongi Hills, the street was quiet, but the underground of the building where the bar was located was packed with drunk people on Christmas Eve.

“There are a lot of people who said they’d come out today, but I made an exception for you, Yukito.”

Ali, of Nigerian descent, laughed, showing his white teeth against his dark face.

“You’ll pay me right away, right?”

“You get paid if you win.”

Ali’s bar was a fight club that skirted the edges of legality. In the tournament-style matches, winners received tokens, which could be exchanged for cash at a small exchange counter at the back of the bar. People would bet while drinking, and fighters would earn their prize money.

Since various drug deals also took place discreetly in this small bar, Yukito had always refused Ali’s offers to work there occasionally.

Even though he knew he could make good money, he had unconsciously avoided anything that might attract official attention, perhaps due to his survival instinct linked to his past.

“Don’t scam me.”

Ali laughed “ha ha” and asked when he would go in.

“It’s your first time, Yukito. How about watching one match to prepare?”

“No. I’m already prepared. I feel like beating someone to death.”

At Yukito’s response, Ali whistled in satisfaction. Just then, someone on the ring was seen leaving with blood dripping from their face.

“Well, then, do your best.”

The announcer recounted the winner’s achievements again. He was a former boxing champion with a particularly sinister look in his eyes.

“And the challenger facing him for the first time today is…!”

Before the announcer even called out the challenger’s name after receiving the paper from Ali, Yukito jumped onto the ring. The applause and cheers from the heavily drunk crowd were loud, but Yukito’s eyes were fixed on the transparent box hanging in the air.

Inside, numerous star-shaped tokens the opponent had accumulated were piled up. The prize money increased with each challenger.

“Did you get the wrong address?”

The boxing champion smirked, taunting Yukito. Yukito’s attire, black trousers and a white shirt, didn’t scream “fighter” to anyone.

“Omega hosts should go to love hotels. If you don’t want to ruin your pretty face… ugh!”

Thud! The match started with Yukito’s foot hitting the face of the man spewing nonsense. Caught off guard, the opponent clenched his jaw and swung at Yukito, but Yukito’s movements were just as fast. When none of the continuous jabs landed, the opponent, now agitated, charged at him.

“You dare to confuse things with your omega status.”

The moment Yukito sensed the alpha pheromones from his opponent, he felt disgusted. He thought his imprint had been broken, but was it a mistake?

If so, the cause was that damn old doctor in O-okubo. He should have known when he was given unverified suppressants. Realizing he might have a side effect of randomly reacting to alpha pheromones, Yukito felt his stomach turn with anger.

“Fuck, this is really shitty!”

Seeing Yukito curse, the opponent laughed, thinking Yukito was reacting to his pheromones.

Some in the audience booed at the detection of alpha pheromones, but others seemed excited at the prospect of watching a fight between an alpha and an omega.

However, Yukito did not make the mistake of releasing his pheromones. He didn’t want to drive the crowd wild. Instead, he curled his red lips and said to him:

“You’ve picked the wrong day to mess with me.”

One minute after the bell rang to start the match, the former boxing champion had both arms broken. This was the only revenge Yukito could give to someone who made a living with their fists.

✽ ✽ ✽

“Haa… Haa…”

Should I stop now?

After defeating six opponents, Yukito took a moment to catch his breath. He had collected 32 tokens. At 10,000 yen per token, he had earned 320,000 yen. With 320,000 yen, he could leave Tokyo for a few days while looking for a job without issue.

“Are you going to proceed with the last match, Yukito?”

“…If I win this one, haa… double?”

Ali nodded with a smile as he watched Yukito panting.

“But if you lose, you’re penniless.”

Double 320,000 yen was 640,000 yen. Certainly an amount to make him hesitate.

Even though his breath was coming up to his throat and sweat was dripping from his hair, making his bare torso glisten, his stamina wasn’t completely depleted.

No, rather, every time he threw a punch without considering his opponent, his blood felt like it was boiling explosively. At the club, no matter how much of a troublemaker the customer was, beating them like this was impossible.

“I’ll do it.”

“The last one is no easy opponent, though.”

Ali added with a probing tone.

Since the owner wouldn’t want to run a losing business, he had heard from Mami that the final matches were usually against opponents Ali had bought off. But Yukito was confident he could win today, no matter who came out. The line he had been carefully maintaining inside had just snapped.

“I said I’ll do it.”

When Yukito spat out the words, Ali said, “Okay,” and signaled to the announcer. The announcer, grabbing the microphone, raised his voice excitedly.

“Now, the last challenger facing our six-time winner ‘Lookie’ is… a foreigner?”

What the fuck…?

Yukito, who was sitting on a makeshift chair wiping sweat, felt an uneasy premonition and turned around. The moment he saw the man climbing onto the ring, that premonition became reality. His regret that he should have just bought train tickets and run was nothing but regret.

How did he find this place?

Yukito watched the man, who had brought along an interpreter, say something to Ali, panting. Soon, Ali, looking pleased, grabbed the microphone himself.

“The challenger has requested a penalty match. The fight will be with the challenger’s hands tied! If the challenger wins, they will take all of ‘Lookie’s money.”

Again, there was a loud whistle, and the atmosphere heated up. The man put his arms behind his back, and handcuffs were placed on his wrists. Seeing this, a sudden flame of anger rose within Yukito.

It wasn’t just the humiliation of fighting with bound hands. Seeing the man in handcuffs made his stomach churn with some strange feeling, almost to the point of vomiting.

What is this feeling, like someone is pounding on my heart?

“Feeling unsure?”

The man asked with a smirk in Korean, looking at Yukito’s furrowed brow.

“Shut up, fuck.”

Yukito threw off the towel around his neck and charged at him, and with the urgent sound of the bell, the fight began.

“Huh… huff…”

How long had they been grappling? The match was about to end, with only a few seconds left of the five-minute limit.

Pinned to the floor with his body stuck between the man’s legs, Yukito ground his teeth in exhaustion.

He had initially thought the man must have trained in jiu-jitsu or judo, but that was a miscalculation. This wasn’t related to any sport; the man was trained in street fighting. To be precise, his movements were familiar with cutting off someone’s breath.

“What are you doing, stripping in front of all these people?”

The man pressed him with his thick, log-like legs and whispered into his ear. To anyone looking, it sounded like he was performing a strip show.

“Huh, what?”

“You’re being vulgar, Jaemin.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, you bastard…”

Even with his hands restricted, to be this good. Yukito ground his teeth and tried punching the man’s side, but the man, who had turned his body into a rock, didn’t budge.

As Yukito tried to free himself from someone who was defending purely with physical strength, the man suddenly turned.

“Ugh!”

Yukito’s eyes widened in shock, and from below the ring came excited whistles. It was because the challenger had buried his face into Yukito’s crotch.

“You… crazy… shit, you fucking… weirdo…!”

The moment he felt the hot breath through his pants, Yukito’s face turned beet red, and he couldn’t help but tense his neck. The man, ignoring his reaction, rubbed his face against Yukito’s erection, making a harsh moan escape from Yukito’s clenched teeth. Blood rushed to his lower abdomen, hardening his member.

Yukito struggled violently, but the man was even more insane than he had anticipated. Sensing his reaction, the man started to suck on Yukito’s erection through his clothes, his high-bridged nose rubbing against it.

“Ugh…! Fuck, ah! Referee!”

Ironically, Yukito was still in his club uniform pants. Feeling the hot breath and suction through the thin fabric, which was not at all warm, Yukito panicked.

“He’s biting my dick off!”

Only after Yukito screamed at the top of his lungs at the referee, who stood there with his mouth agape, did the idiot blow the whistle.

“Direct injury to the groin is a foul!”

The man rolled off him and lay on the floor sideways. Yukito, instinctively, backed away while still seated. Seeing this, the man on the floor laughed, showing his even teeth.

✽ ✽ ✽

“Ha ha…”

That wasn’t the fake smile the man had given him back at the club. He was genuinely laughing because he was having fun. He had stuck his head into Yukito’s crotch, directly confirming how hard he was.

“If you win, I’ll have sex with you.”

“…What, you bastard?”

At the man’s absurd words, Yukito frowned, his face flushed.

“Your dick is in that state; I can only imagine what your ass would be like.”

His dark eyes sparkled with delight. The moment Yukito realized that the man was aware of his arousal and was enjoying it to the fullest, something inside him exploded.

“…Shut up.”

“Why, I’m here to help.”

His piercing gaze and the slight curl of his lips. Yukito was sure he knew this face. Otherwise, there was no way to explain the reaction of his heart beating wildly inside him.

“First, suck on my nipple.”

His lewd gaze locked on Yukito’s nipples, which had reddened from the friction of the fight. The moment he licked his lips, Yukito hallucinated the sensation of the man’s hot breath sucking on his nipple.

“Why. Already turned on?”

Goosebumps rose all over his body, and his small nipples stood erect. The fire he had suppressed along with his lost memories now engulfed Yukito like a huge blaze.

“I’ll kill you, fuck!”

Yukito straddled him and punched his face. The man, laughing so hard his Adam’s apple shook, didn’t even try to dodge.

✽ ✽ ✽

“Please hurry up and change this for me.”

The middle-aged woman at the exchange counter gave Yukito a sharp look before saying “Sumimasen” in a tone that suggested she wasn’t sorry at all. Yukito cursed under his breath at her unapologetic expression.

After counting the money several times with the machine, she finally handed him the cash.

“It’s 500,000 yen.”

The amount he should have received was originally 640,000 yen, but Ali mentioned that 30% would be taken as a fee, only telling him after the match. Ali said with a show of generosity that he would take less since it was Yukito’s first time, but there was nothing Yukito could do, being the one in need.

As Yukito stuffed fifty 10,000 yen notes into an envelope, he instinctively tensed at the smell of cigarette smoke beside him.

“…”

Even amidst the faint smell of tobacco, the man’s scent was distinctly felt. It was indeed a scent that set his nerves on edge.

“You’re not running away.”

“…I’m preparing to flee.”

Yukito bit his lip once after answering honestly. The man stared at him intently while taking a deep drag from his cigarette, and Yukito did not avert his gaze.

Even on second look, the man was stunningly handsome, beyond the traits of alpha or omega, the kind where anyone of the same gender would wish to be born like that.

After fighting him on the ring, Yukito realized that his skills weren’t just in his looks, making the victory feel more like a defeat.

“You should keep your promise before you go.”

As Yukito was about to retort, “What promise?” he saw the man’s meaningful expression and shut his mouth. He remembered the man’s nonsense about having sex if he won.

What good is a perfect exterior when the inside is complete trash?

“Does it make you feel better to masturbate over losing a fight like that?”

His sarcastic tone, something Mami had pointed out before, came out as an instinctive reaction. The man chuckled softly, raising his eyebrows.

“Ha ha…”

For Daeyoung, seeing Jaemin use polite language was hard to accept. The Jang Jaemin he knew would rather choose to be beaten to a pulp than use honorifics to deceive him.

Had Jang Jaemin really forgotten him? Was that even possible?

“Do you think I’m saying I lost on purpose to you? To have sex?”

“Isn’t that it?”

“That’s right.”

You damn bastard.

When Yukito made a face of disbelief, the man stepped closer.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk quietly.”

Yukito shook his head at the man’s absurd suggestion.

“I don’t want to be found dead after being alone with you.”

The man slightly furrowed his good-looking brows.

“You think I would kill you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“So, you wouldn’t?”

“Why are you using polite language all of a sudden?”

As the man finally pointed out his speech, Yukito immediately countered.

“Then can I use informal language?”

“Whatever. But it’s cute when you use polite language.”

Seeing Yukito’s expression turn fierce, the man gave a faint smile. Yukito sharply retorted while looking at him.

“If I curse, I’m the lucky one. You look much older than me.”

The man turned his head, laughing as if he was exhaling a sigh. Watching him with his finely furrowed nose, something in Yukito’s chest thudded down.

“Jaemin.”

“…”

“That’s your name.”

Yukito blinked twice. Although Tokyo in December was warm enough that it didn’t feel like winter, he couldn’t understand why he suddenly pictured snowflakes swirling under a gray sky. At the same time, what was this tingling feeling in his left chest?

“You’re not very surprised.”

Because it was a name he had heard on the street recently. Yukito guessed that this might indeed be his past name.

“If you didn’t know me, there’d be no reason to chase me down here to kill me.”

“I’ve been trying to tell you, I have no intention of killing you.”

The man took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled.

“Then why did you come looking for me?”

When Yukito asked out of genuine curiosity, the man slightly furrowed his thick eyebrows before finally letting out a dry laugh.

“Are you curious?”

“…Not really.”

“You look like you’re dying of curiosity.”

After flicking away the shortened cigarette butt, he pulled out his wallet from his coat.

Although his guard was not completely down, Yukito felt some of the tension dissolve while talking to the man. He was curious about what card the man was holding in his large hand that had caught his attention.

“Are you giving me a credit card now?”

When Yukito asked with a grimace, a white puff of smoke, like a sigh, escaped from the man’s lips.

“If you want, I’ll give you that too.”

“Forget it.”

Was he planning to ensnare him with some new form of card fraud? Yukito shook his head, not knowing what kind of trouble he might get into. The man stepped closer.

“If you want to know what kind of relationship we had, come here.”

The card key he held out was attached to a blue keyholder. It wasn’t from one of the love hotels scattered around the club but from a high-end hotel logo at the bottom, exclusive to those with money. How much of the money he had earned by knocking out those big guys in the ring today would it cost to go there?

“I won’t go.”

Despite hearing Yukito’s refusal, the man’s expression didn’t change. The card key dropped with a thud at his feet, his attitude ambiguous about whether he was throwing it away or giving it.

The man, after tossing the card key, turned away from him without hesitation. The car that seemed to have been waiting for him left, making a fine engine noise as it disappeared down the street.

Is he really leaving just like that?

Yukito stood still until the car was completely out of sight. He desperately wanted a cigarette, but having fled directly from the club, he only had his phone and a thin wallet with him.

He scanned his surroundings, but there were only occasional drunks walking in the narrow alley, no suspicious characters in sight. Confirming that no one was planning to stab him from behind or run him over with a car, Yukito finally turned around.

After taking a few steps, he glanced back to see the card key on the ground. Yukito swallowed hard and touched the thick envelope stuffed in his jacket pocket. It felt as if the anxiety that had been slowly building in his chest was diluting.

Right. Maybe this is the last chance.

Yukito’s steps quickened as he crossed the street.

✽ ✽ ✽

“What should we do?”

Seonho asked from the driver’s seat, and Daeyoung answered with silence. An even heavier air than usual hung in the car.

For about a week, after Song Hangyeol saw Jang Jaemin in Kabukicho, Daeyoung had deployed over a hundred people to comb through the area until they pinpointed his location. During that time, Daeyoung looked like he had lost half his mind.

Before entering the club to meet Jaemin alone, he even saw him taking suppressants for the first time. It was the first and last time Seonho had seen Seol Daeyoung lose his composure, back when he was told Jaemin had gone missing.

In reality, Daeyoung’s state was so excited that it wouldn’t have been surprising if he had gone into rut the moment he saw Jaemin face to face.

“The owner of the bar he’s living with seems to owe money to the yakuza. Shall we provoke them?”

As Seonho spoke while turning the steering wheel, Daeyoung scoffed.

“Would Jang Jaemin come to me out of concern for his roommate’s safety? Seriously?”

Seonho’s face stiffened slightly, visible through the rearview mirror. Daeyoung dropping the honorifics he had maintained until now clearly showed that he was not in a state to be composed. After swallowing hard, Seonho quietly replied to Daeyoung.

“…He’s kind-hearted, after all.”

This time, Daeyoung’s brows slowly furrowed. To say Jang Jaemin was kind was an expression of Seonho’s arrogance, showcasing a sense of superiority that even if Jaemin was cruel to others, he was different with him. It made him want to kill him.
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✽ ✽ ✽

“Threaten the bar owner to make Jang Jaemin come to me on his own.”

“That seems to be the most effective approach currently.”

“Stimulating weaknesses to get what you want is something I learned from Jang Jaemin, isn’t it?”

Daeyoung scoffed, reading Seonho’s silence as affirmation.

“That’s not something you call kind; it’s being thoroughly bad.”

“…People have many sides.”

Seonho still couldn’t bear to speak negatively about Jang Jaemin. Daeyoung twisted his lips in self-mockery at the fact that someone else was taking his omega’s side.

“Shut up.”

“…”

The reason Daeyoung had kept Seonho alive until now was because he knew Seonho would work harder than anyone to find Jang Jaemin. But this kind of defiance was not acceptable.

“I know countless faces of Jang Jaemin that you don’t.”

Daeyoung spat out in a vile voice. He knew what kind of moan Jaemin would make if he kissed the nape of his neck, which had been flushed with heat under him just moments ago, something Seonho would never know.

“Where should we go?”

Seonho’s voice was low in the car that had stopped at a signal light. He intended to change the subject, but Daeyoung was not in the mood.

“To the hotel. Jang Jaemin will come there.”

Even though Seonho had also seen Jaemin turn away after dropping the card key, Daeyoung’s tone was full of certainty.

“It’s highly likely that he really lost his memory.”

Seonho genuinely advised him. He was at the bar where the street fight gambling took place, but Jaemin hadn’t recognized him at all. It wasn’t that Jaemin didn’t look at Seonho; he just passed him by with the same indifferent look one gives to just another face in a crowded space.

For Seonho, it was shocking, but it confirmed that Jaemin had indeed lost his memory.

Daeyoung, too, had to admit that Jaemin wasn’t lying. When he first heard from the hospital that Jang Jaemin didn’t remember his past, Daeyoung had scoffed. If Jang Jaemin could live his life perfectly deceiving even his traits, he could certainly wash away his past.

The fact that Jaemin pretended not to know him when he saw him was hard to accept, but he had tolerated it with a hundred compromises. He kissed him, thinking that physical contact would reveal Jaemin’s true feelings, but the result was contrary to his expectations.

Jaemin had honestly gotten an erection and reacted, but there was no emotion in his eyes that Daeyoung had anticipated. There was only confusion, irritation, and fear.

If it was the Jaemin he knew, there should have been anger or self-loathing added to that mix, but in the eyes of his omega, living under the name Yukito, there was no shadow of the past.

As if all past memories had been cut off with his shortened hair. Of course, including the memory of him.

“Want to bet? Whether Jang Jaemin comes or not.”

Daeyoung continued, hearing Seonho’s slight intake of breath.

“If you win, you’re free. I’ll give you enough money to feed your family for life and ensure you never have to deal with me again.”

It was an offer with no reason to refuse. Seonho’s grip on the steering wheel tightened.

“But if you lose, I’ll burn down your house. How about it?”

Daeyoung’s tone had no hint of hesitation or threat, which made it even more terrifying. He spoke of burning down a house as casually as one would dispose of trash.

Seonho knew Daeyoung was serious. This was the man who had killed everyone on the spot who had touched his omega. The crime scene had been so gruesome that the prosecutor had unusually requested the death penalty.

“Let’s do it. If you’re confident you’ll win, it doesn’t matter.”

Daeyoung laughed with a twisted voice as he asked him. Seonho, when with him, often couldn’t help but think of Chairman Jang.

“You’re not confident, are you?”

Chairman Jang’s wish had certainly come true. He had wanted a strong alpha to inherit all he had achieved, but he had almost been purged by his own son.

“Then shut up and drive.”

Daeyoung ended Seonho’s brief reverie with one sentence. He then buried his head in the seat, closing his eyes, recalling the look in the eyes of his lover, whom he had finally met after seven years.

“Then why did you come looking for me?”

There was no sarcasm in those eyes, which were transparent enough to seem naive, revealing his inner thoughts. There was only curiosity, questions, and a bit of confusion mixed in. It was natural for Daeyoung to burst into laughter, not because it was funny, but because it was so absurd.

The fact that you really forgot me is just unbelievable.

Seol Daeyoung, who had never felt the sting of defeat in 23 years, was completely shattered when Jaemin disappeared from his life. The fact that he could do nothing while his freedom was restricted had shattered his mind, and even after his release, he scoured Japan and Korea, even flying to America, but not finding any trace of Jaemin had caused him to have suicidal thoughts dozens of times a day.

When he first confirmed that Jang Jaemin, free from him, was living each day like a child at play, it felt like his whole body had frozen.

The Jang Jaemin who had led gangs roamed small snack bars and clubs for the past five years, dealing with drunks as a bouncer. Not only that, on his days off, he would go to the convenience store to pick out the cheapest beer, and carefully select groceries during supermarket time sales.

Jang Jaemin, who probably never stood in front of a sink to cook in his life.

He would take and pick up laundry for the omega he lived with, and once a week, he would get two packed lunches from a bento shop near his apartment.

His long hair, which once slipped smoothly between his fingers with its warmth, was not only cut short but shaved, and he wore what he called ragged, beggar-like clothes every day, which he wouldn’t have even glanced at before.

But what pierced Daeyoung’s heart like a knife was the photo of Jaemin in front of the club, laughing with a cigarette in hand among colleagues. Seeing Jaemin with a relaxed smile that even Park Sejun, who had been brutally dealt with by him, had never seen, Daeyoung genuinely wanted to kill the black-haired man beside him.

“Are you okay?”

Seonho asked cautiously, watching Daeyoung bang his head against the car window.

The bright lights flickering outside the window felt surreal. A fire was rising in his belly, tormenting him without extinguishing. The past times when he thought of Jaemin out of reach were torturous enough to want to cut off his limbs, but today was different.

There was only one way to escape this pain: to transfer this fire to Jaemin and burn together. If he had known how hard it would be to be apart from the imprinted partner, he might not have imprinted Jaemin.

No, even if time could be turned back, his choice would have remained unchanged. He only regretted not biting Jaemin’s nape earlier. Daeyoung should have made Jaemin his omega on the very day they first met.

“Fuck…”

As he started to masturbate, exposing his erection through his pants, the small noise of the radio filled the car.

“Tell me about when Jang Jaemin was young.”

No matter how many times he heard it, the situation never became familiar; Seonho always started speaking with a trembling voice, unable to bear the shame. Today, too, hearing Seonho’s voice starting awkwardly, Daeyoung roughly pulled his hand away, unable to concentrate.

“Ha…”

Jaemin’s eyes, looking at him like he was a stranger, wouldn’t shake off from his mind. At that moment, Daeyoung wanted to tear that clear face apart.

“Sir.”

“No, just shut up.”

“Uh…”

As confusion spread in Seonho’s voice, Daeyoung opened his eyes that he had closed.

“What is it?”

Seeing Seonho’s eyes fixed on the phone, Daeyoung realized something was wrong.

“Director Jang is at Tokyo Station.”

He had told Seonho to put a location tracker on Jaemin’s phone, not anticipating this situation. He just wanted a minimal safety measure. The nightmare of not knowing where Jang Jaemin was was something he never wanted to experience again in his life.

“…What?”

As Daeyoung frowned in disbelief, Seonho opened his dry lips while staring at the phone.

“It seems like he… just boarded… a train.”

Finally, a hollow laugh escaped from Daeyoung’s lips, frozen like a statue.

Jang Jaemin had run away. Even after kissing him, wrestling with him in excitement, and getting an erection, despite being given a chance to return safely, he had kicked it away, leaving the city in defiance.

“Ha… Ha ha…”

Jang Jaemin, his omega, had completely forgotten him. Contrary to what he had confidently told Seonho, that Jaemin would come to him, that he couldn’t refuse him, Jaemin had fled the moment they met.

All the moments they had shared no longer existed in this world. Daeyoung felt as if hot blood was bursting from his heart.

“…Fuck!”

The car window shattered into pieces from his punch, fragments falling onto the road.

Even in the taxi heading to Tokyo Station, Yukito was contemplating his destination. The first thing that came to his mind was the sea. He didn’t know why he thought of it.

He had never gone even though Mami had sung the praises of going together every summer vacation, but now, cornered, he finally thought of the sea.

“Haah…”

Yukito pondered at the bustling station. He had no desire to face the man he met today again, so he had to leave Tokyo, but he didn’t want to go too far because of Mami.

Where should he go? Chiba to the east? Shonan to the west? But both were too close.

The idea that came to his mind was Izu, three hours by train from Tokyo. The emerald sea that Mami, who was from there, had boasted about came to mind, and he made his decision.

Only after buying a bento from the station and boarding the express train did Yukito let out a long breath. As Tokyo receded through the train window in the early morning, he didn’t feel as much regret as he expected. Instead, there was more excitement about seeing the sea.

Even in this situation.

“Ha…”

It should have been called the worst Christmas Eve, but in a way, it didn’t seem that bad. He now had 500,000 yen, and in a few hours, he would reach the sea. No matter what his past had been, he could start anew in a small town.

It was daunting to figure out how to begin, but just like he had managed to live for five years in Tokyo with a clouded mind, he felt a vague confidence that he could do it again.

Just like he had lived up until now, like a weed wedged between stones.

“If you want to know what kind of relationship we had, come here.”

When the man’s voice suddenly came to mind, Yukito’s face in the dark window hardened. The gaze that had looked at him with burning eyes was different from any other alpha’s gaze he had encountered before.

The eyes that had shaken him to the core, making his stomach churn, were a first. Or perhaps not the first? Yukito, feeling his left temple throb again, twisted open a cold green tea bottle and drank it down in one gulp.

Two people had called him Jang Jaemin this month already. That name was likely his real name. But the more he tried to think about his past, the more he got goosebumps and felt disgusted, both then and now.

‘Let’s not think about it.’

Yukito shook his head and swallowed hard. For now, he needed to figure out how to explain the situation to Mami, who would panic upon hearing this. After that, everything would be fine.

Yukito, who had been thinking with his eyes closed, dozed off and had a nightmare of being chased by that man. No matter how much he ran until his breath was stuck in his throat, the man pursued him like a beast. Even as he tried to escape from the man charging at him with a baseball bat ready to smash his head, the distance between them only shrank.

“Haah… Ah…”

The man finally caught him by the back of his neck and pinned him down. Yukito begged for his life, to be spared just once, but it was futile against the monstrous man.

Unable to look at the man who was tearing his clothes apart with bare hands, Yukito turned his head and buried his face in the ground. Then raindrops fell on his cheek. Feeling something strange, he looked up to see the man’s eyes, long and torn, shedding tears.

“…I don’t regret it.”

The man, with bloodshot eyes and veins bulging in his neck, spat out as if vomiting blood. He said he didn’t regret it.

What is this? What the hell is this?

“…Are you okay?”

As someone asked him cautiously, Yukito gasped, waking from the nightmare. The train had already arrived at its destination, and the surroundings were empty. He quickly got off, bowing slightly to the station attendant wearing a cap.

Damn it. Yukito belatedly realized his shirt front was wet. He had wet himself while dreaming of being almost raped by the man.

✽ ✽ ✽

He checked into the nearest business hotel from the station and took a shower first. With the money he earned from Ali’s shop dwindling as he bought clothes from a nearby 24-hour convenience store, he couldn’t wander around in wet pants.
After finishing a hot shower, he ate breakfast using the hotel’s service. Even after devouring two large bowls of rice with natto, scrambled eggs, and pickles, Yukito was still hungry, so he spread jam on the bread from the Western food section.

“How do I get to Shirahama Beach?”

Following the kind guidance of the female staff at the check-in desk, Yukito took a bus from in front of the hotel. The Christmas atmosphere was still present here, but as he moved away from the city and closer to the sea, the scenery gradually turned to nature.

“…”

After getting off the bus, Yukito stood still for a moment before letting out a wry smile. Instead of the emerald sea and dazzling white sands Mami had shown him in pictures, he saw a gloomy blue sea that felt eerie.

The pictures were from summer, and now it was winter, with no sunlight and cold wind, so the different scenery was only natural. Yet, Yukito found it amusing. He liked this unexpected view of the sea.

Watching seagulls flying around, he slowly walked down to the beach. Even on this winter’s Christmas Eve, there must have been young couples setting the mood, as traces of small fireworks could be seen, but now there was only an old man walking his dog.

Splash.

The sight of large waves causing white foam was endlessly captivating. The checkered shirt under his thin jacket was fluttering wildly in the wind. Yukito took off the knit cap he had pulled over his head and, as if bewitched, walked closer to the sea. He couldn’t even understand why he had hesitated to come to the sea before.

Every breath of the sea breeze filled his chest, making him feel liberated. The higher the waves, the faster his heart beat. Not realizing his shoes were getting wet, Yukito’s steps suddenly stopped.

“…”

Because a strange scent had invaded with the sea breeze deep into his chest. Or should he call this scent strange?

The moment he turned around, Yukito froze.

“Huh…”

Realizing that the protagonist of his nightmare was pointing a gun at his chest, Yukito’s eyes widened, bloodshot. Was he going to die like this, with barely any memories flashing before his eyes…!

“Click.”

The man broke Yukito’s reverie by pulling the trigger, and there was a click of metal. Yukito fell to the ground, his legs giving out. The seawater wet his clothes and hands, creating and then erasing ticklish bubbles.

…Is this guy fucking insane?

Yukito trembled as he looked up at the man in a black coat, who was looking down at him. It wasn’t a toy; it was a real gun. In Japan, he had never seen anyone with an actual firearm. It was natural for Yukito to freeze, recognizing the weapon by instinct.

How did a foreigner get a revolver? The image of the gangster from the club the previous night, who had greeted the man warmly, overlapped with this mystery.

Only then did Yukito realize that once he was caught by this man, there might be no place for him to escape to in this country.

The man slowly bent down and lifted Yukito’s chin with the gun barrel. Yukito’s face was completely drained of color, pale.

“I was really pissed off, but seeing you like this calms me down.”

“…What are you talking about?”

Yukito managed to say with his swollen throat. The man’s voice, as he gently traced Yukito’s cheek with the gun, sounded terrifyingly calm.

“It feels good that the place you ran to after escaping from me ends up being here.”

“…What?”

“Our last memory was by the sea. Seeing you cry like this makes me satisfied.”

Only then did Yukito realize he was crying, his cheeks soaked. After biting his lip hard, he slowly reached out a trembling hand to lower the gun, and the man’s lips seemed to curve into a faint smile. He whispered as he put the weapon back into his coat.

“I don’t feel like joking anymore. I had one real bullet in there.”

The events of last night replayed before Yukito, who still couldn’t move. With a thud, the blue card key fell in front of him, and Yukito frowned. The man said in the same voice as the night before:

“If you’re curious about what our relationship was, come find me.”

“…”

But his eyes were different.

“Don’t drive me crazier by rejecting this chance I’m giving you.”

Yukito had a gut feeling that if he kicked away this opportunity, the man might really punish him. After dropping the card key, the man turned and slowly walked away. Yukito remained there for a long time after he left before finally standing up.

When he returned to the hotel in wet clothes, receiving a glare from the bus driver, he noticed a fluttering note on the desk.

[Happy Birthday.]

Beside the note was a bouquet of roses exuding a fresh scent. Yukito, with bloodshot eyes, stared at the note before throwing the bouquet to the floor like a madman.

His heart was pounding as if it would explode, and it felt like all his blood was rushing out. Even after stomping on the red petals several times, the burning anger inside him only grew stronger.

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