Chapter 0: Prologue

“Is that really… all you have to say?”

Dismissing the deeply severe expression etched across the other man’s face, So Gi-hyeon let his mind drift elsewhere. He caught himself wondering why this man had abandoned his current lover’s birthday just to attend his commissioning ceremony. A melancholic sentiment washed over him. You really know how to drown a person in your affection.

“Hey, answer me,” the man snapped, his brow furrowing as he saw right through Gi-hyeon’s stoic facade to notice his distraction. “Don’t just spew all that bullshit and then ignore me.”

Gi-hyeon silently studied the beauty mark resting on the bridge of the man’s nose, a tiny speck like a splash of dark paint, before giving a slow nod. He found it strange that the other man would demand an answer to such an obvious question. No matter when he asked, the response would always remain the same.

To Gi-hyeon, those feelings were as mundane as a daily greeting.

Ever since the moment of realization, that love had been his constant companion, as natural as the sun rising in the east or the inevitable march of a new season stepping forward as the old one faded. Loving him was a preordained promise. Acknowledging this undeniable truth, Gi-hyeon nodded again. “I’m more surprised that you didn’t know.”

It was his most honest sentiment. So Gi-hyeon possessed absolutely zero talent for letting people close to him; the only person he had ever wanted by his side throughout his entire life was Jo Yeon-oh.

There was simply no way such a profound attachment had gone unnoticed. He first recognized the depth of his feelings during his second year of high school. Naturally, he had fought against them. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t agonized over the situation; Yeon-oh was too precious to him as a friend. Terrified of fraying the edges of their bond, Gi-hyeon had desperately tried to purge every emotion that extended beyond mere friendship and brotherhood. He had simply failed.

Over all those years, the man who knew Gi-hyeon better than Gi-hyeon knew himself could not have been entirely blind to his heart. Even if he lacked absolute certainty, he must have harbored a vague suspicion.

Gi-hyeon was a man of a stark, stoic disposition, a stubborn eccentric with unsmiling lips who possessed zero capacity for jokes. He was a murky, diluted gray, resembling a canvas where a chaotic mix of dark, muddy paints had been recklessly smeared with white. In that desolate, colorless world, Jo Yeon-oh was the sole entity radiating a distinct, vibrant hue, one that only grew more blindingly brilliant with each passing day. If Gi-hyeon had looked at him with such unwavering devotion, Yeon-oh must have known.

Aware of this, Gi-hyeon had genuinely tried to kill the affection. He spent years attempting to forget, forcing himself to look at others, denying his emotions, and burying them deep where they might rot beneath simple curses. He had silently screamed for the feelings to scatter.

But could they ever be forgotten?

Instead, as the years bled by, the love merely cemented itself as an irrefutable law of nature. While every agonizing attempt to bury those feelings had been driven by his own willpower, his inability to forget them was beyond his control.

Brushing a speck of dust from his officer’s cap, Gi-hyeon stared at the bouquet Yeon-oh had brought for him. The Alpha stood with the extravagant flowers in one hand and a cigarette pinched between the fingers of the other, his brow deeply creased. Despite hovering in a secluded corner designated for an outdoor ashtray, nearly every passerby threw a glance his way. It was a rarity for someone not to stare, and Gi-hyeon completely understood why.

Amidst the rigid rows of newly commissioned second lieutenants clad in pristine dress uniforms, Yeon-oh stood draped entirely in black: a dark turtleneck, a heavy coat, and polished dress shoes. Even dressed so inconspicuously, he effortlessly drew the gravity of every gaze in the vicinity.

The man himself, however, flicked his ash with callous indifference, acting as though he had never once registered the weight of those stares. His entire posture radiated the dangerous aura of someone barely keeping a vicious temper in check.

An educated thug.

A hoodlum in designer clothes.

A punk wearing a polite mask.

The sheer accuracy of those silent monikers forced a quiet, involuntary chuckle past Gi-hyeon’s lips.

“Don’t fucking laugh after turning my stomach upside down,” Yeon-oh growled. Clearly aggravated by Gi-hyeon’s relaxed demeanor, he shoved the cigarette between his sculpted lips, inhaling so sharply that his cheeks hollowed. The cherry flared violently, burning down to the filter in a single drag before fading to a dull ember.

Gi-hyeon returned his gaze to the massive, lavishly arranged bouquet Yeon-oh gripped. It was the kind of ostentatious display meant to stroke a graduating friend’s ego, likely costing a small fortune, yet it was composed entirely of blooms whose language symbolized eternal love.

Why are these flowers for me? Why am I the recipient instead of his Omega lover on their birthday?

Gi-hyeon had long outgrown the naivety required to agonize over such questions. He was never confused by Yeon-oh’s actions, because he knew the absolute truth: Jo Yeon-oh did not love So Gi-hyeon.

That singular fact was the entire purpose of this confession.

It was a declaration of an ending, the final execution of the desperate heart that had spent a lifetime yearning for a man who would never return its affection. Today was his graduation and commissioning ceremony; it served as a fitting stage for a finale.

Gi-hyeon traced the deep furrow between Yeon-oh’s brows. The way the Alpha impatiently rubbed his forehead with his thumb signaled that he was either wrestling with a dilemma or confronting a thoroughly unpleasant situation. Knowing Yeon-oh, it was likely both. This confession was merely an inescapable nuisance the man would have preferred to avoid. Not wanting Yeon-oh to suffer too deeply over it, Gi-hyeon settled his officer’s cap back onto his head and broke the silence.

“I only told you so you would know. I don’t harbor any other expectations.”

Perhaps that was the absolute worst thing he could have said. The swirling confusion in Yeon-oh’s eyes plummeted into something dark and dangerously cold. His eyes narrowed, and his lips curled into a sharp, terrifying sneer. His tongue dragged across his lower lip before pressing hard into the inside of his cheek.

Witnessing the subtle shift, Gi-hyeon mentally clicked his tongue. Ah. The bastard is pissed now.

The sheer wave of Yeon-oh’s fury crashed over him. Yeon-oh in this state was notoriously difficult to manage. Anticipating the fallout, Gi-hyeon flinched slightly, a reaction justified a second later when Yeon-oh violently hurled the expensive bouquet onto the concrete.

Staring at the crushed petals scattering across the ground, Gi-hyeon could decipher the root of that explosive anger. The Alpha was furious at having this emotional burden unilaterally dumped on him. Yet, to Gi-hyeon, the confession had grown so deeply ingrained that holding it back any longer would have suffocated him. He had chosen today to hand the final verdict of his love over to Jo Yeon-oh.

“It’s just so obvious to me, that’s why I said it,” Gi-hyeon continued softly. “As for choosing today of all days…” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings.

In the distance, a massive banner declared the graduation and commissioning of the Military Academy’s latest class, underscored by a grandiose slogan that made Gi-hyeon offer a faint smile. No one understood the gravity of this day better than Yeon-oh. To have a heavy confession dropped on such a monumental occasion likely felt immensely suffocating. Gi-hyeon wanted to clarify that he hadn’t intended to burden him, that the words had simply burst forth organically, much like a blooming flower incapable of holding back its petals.

“I suppose it might feel heavy to you. But that wasn’t my intent—”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Yeon-oh viciously flicked his cigarette stub against the concrete wall, sending a shower of sparks into the air. Gi-hyeon’s attention snagged on the discarded butt tumbling across the ground, the cherry still burning bright. It wasn’t annoying; it simply bothered him. The sight of something cast aside and rolling in the dirt while still desperately burning felt far too akin to his own pathetic existence.

Lifting his gaze, he found Yeon-oh digging his fingers into the underside of his brow bone, a clear sign of an encroaching migraine. A headache always made Jo Yeon-oh infinitely sharper and crueler.

Perhaps I chose the wrong day after all. Yet, if he hadn’t spoken today, he feared he would have swallowed the words for the rest of his life. Waiting was no longer an option. Besides, no matter what day he chose, the inevitable answer would always remain the same.

Gi-hyeon systematically erased the lingering hesitation circling his mind.

Admittedly, dumping such a heavy confession onto a childhood friend who had come to celebrate his commissioning, while holding the fiancée ring that matched his own officer’s ring, was incredibly burdensome. When Yeon-oh arrived today, he certainly hadn’t expected to be ambushed with a symbol of lifelong devotion. Reflecting on this, Gi-hyeon felt a sharp pang of regret pierce through his previous resolve. Maybe he should have just kept his mouth shut.

Such rapid regret was absurd, but realistically, he had survived perfectly fine while burying these feelings. Even without laying his heart bare or confessing the depth of his devotion, Gi-hyeon had managed to live remarkably well for a man shouldering the crushing weight of an unrequited love. Perhaps its sheer familiarity had made it bearable.

From the moment he recognized his feelings at eighteen until now, loving Yeon-oh had felt akin to chronic rhinitis: unbearably agonizing when it flared up, but otherwise just a mild, constant discomfort. That chronic pain was precisely why he had needed to confess. The long-endured emotion had become too ingrained, and he harbored a desperate hope that vocalizing the grueling sentiment might finally force it to an end.

“So what the hell do you want to do about it?” Yeon-oh practically snarled.

The crushed, guttural voice tearing through his gritted teeth revealed an anger so absolute that Gi-hyeon felt an immediate rush of guilt and embarrassment. Was my confession truly that repulsive? Left with no alternative, Gi-hyeon scrambled to downplay the situation. He had wanted to avoid such cowardly backpedaling, but Yeon-oh’s terrifying reaction had genuinely rattled him.

“Nothing. Like I said, I just wanted you to know,” Gi-hyeon replied, offering a deadpan shrug. Though it slipped out sounding like a hollow excuse, it was the absolute truth.

He could hardly demand a relationship from Jo Yeon-oh, a man who absolutely despised the very thought of dating Betas. Yet, Gi-hyeon had desperately needed to prove that his biological status as a Beta did not invalidate the immense gravity of his love.

In truth, So Gi-hyeon was still profoundly naive. He had leaped into the confession without fully untangling the complexities of his own heart. Even after years of loving Yeon-oh with absolute certainty, Gi-hyeon remained terrified of the unknown. He couldn’t predict how this confession would mutate the lifelong bond between two men who had practically grown up together, nor what devastating conclusion it might hurl them toward. Jo Yeon-oh, after all, was his first everything.

Ah. Perhaps that’s the real reason.

Entirely ignorant of love because Yeon-oh was his first, Gi-hyeon was likely terrified that if he left things as they were, Yeon-oh would inevitably become his last. That terror was why he had unleashed the confession today, right when the man had arrived to celebrate his commissioning, a desperate plea for Yeon-oh to execute the feelings on his behalf.

Condemn my love. Punish this selfish heart that chose to abandon our friendship and ignore your pain. Please, end it for me.

That plea might have been the sole underlying objective of his confession.

Unfortunately, Jo Yeon-oh had always been unusually weak when it came to So Gi-hyeon.

“You just want me to know?” Even though Yeon-oh glared at him with eyes brimming with disgust, his expression fractured beneath the weight of countless warring emotions.

“…”

“You’re just spouting infuriating bullshit to piss me off again,” the Alpha muttered, dropping his head and burying his face in his palms. He looked so genuinely tormented that Gi-hyeon almost stepped forward to soothe him. “Was what we shared love? No, it wasn’t. But here you are, spewing romantic garbage completely on your own without my fucking consent. Fuck…”

Yeon-oh clearly viewed the confession as a visceral betrayal. He perceived it as a renunciation of every bond they had ever shared, a cruel declaration of goodbye to their shared history and brotherhood.

That profound sense of betrayal was why the man’s face had drained of all color as he spat those venomous words. Gi-hyeon genuinely hadn’t expected him to interpret it that way.

…No, a small corner of his mind had always known.

He had always understood that his love would violently crash into this exact, miserable ending.

I might lose Jo Yeon-oh today.

He had confessed fully prepared to pay that devastating price. He would likely have to pour the entirety of his remaining life into the grueling task of forgetting the Alpha. Eventually, a day would come when this shattered memory no longer hurt. Even before Yeon-oh had finished speaking, Gi-hyeon had already surrendered half his heart to defeat.

“You crazy bastard. Fucking ambushing me on a day like this, fuck… Did you completely forget that you’re a Beta?” Yeon-oh choked out, his pallid face twisting as he hurled profanities between visceral dry heaves.

The sheer violence of that physical rejection inflicted a deep, jagged wound. A heavy, suffocating ache bloomed in Gi-hyeon’s chest. Yet, he still understood his friend and the agonizing object of his affection. Yeon-oh possessed perfectly valid reasons for that repulsive reaction. Gi-hyeon had instigated this despite fully anticipating this exact explosion. He finally registered the brutal truth: he hadn’t confessed to begin something beautiful; he had spoken up to forcefully annihilate it.

Moving past mere comprehension, Gi-hyeon suddenly felt a profound surge of remorse for Yeon-oh’s panic. He had essentially forced the agonizing burden of rejection directly onto the Alpha’s shoulders today.

Yeon-oh was now completely hunched over, desperately fighting off a wave of nausea. Struck with panic, Gi-hyeon rushed forward, patting his back, only for Yeon-oh to viciously shove him away.

The Alpha slowly lifted his head.

“…”

“…”

The gazes of the betrayed and the betrayer violently tangled in the heavy air. Staring into Yeon-oh’s bloodshot eyes burning with fury, absolute regret instantly pulverized Gi-hyeon’s resolve. If this confession was going to wound you this deeply, I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut.

However, it wasn’t too late to salvage the wreckage.

He could easily laugh it off as a sick, twisted joke orchestrated for his commissioning day. Yeon-oh wouldn’t believe it initially, but Gi-hyeon only had to play dumb until the Alpha eventually buried the memory. Armed with that desperate rationalization, Gi-hyeon parted his lips to speak.

Instead, Yeon-oh ruthlessly trampled the discarded bouquet beneath his dress shoes and closed the distance. A brutal, unyielding hand shot out, its fist twisting into the pristine tie and lapels of Gi-hyeon’s dress uniform. The freezing temperature caused the icy metal rank insignias to clatter harshly against one another.

Jerked forward by the collar, Gi-hyeon stumbled a few paces closer.

Yeon-oh bared his teeth.

“Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s date, you fucking selfish bastard.”

Despite the venom tearing through his throat, Yeon-oh’s eyes held a devastation that cut deeper than rage. In that suspended second, Gi-hyeon finally grasped the horrifying reality: every single word he had uttered today felt like a ruthless severing of their lifelong bond to Jo Yeon-oh.

Ah…

A quiet, miserable groan slipped past Gi-hyeon’s lips.

If he had only apologized—if he had uttered a single word of remorse for inflicting such profound agony yet again—would the two of them have forged a vastly different relationship that day?

The confession tasted like blood and bitter tears.

It was the miserable beginning of a thoroughly salt-rimmed relationship.