YHP 1

Clean sneakers. Bright sunlight. Unrefined excitement and tender, immature leaves.

The campus welcoming the new semester was the perfect image of March.

The freshmen still had their youthful appearance, and they brimmed with excitement with their steps, while seasoned students who had experienced March many times before showed an awkward mix of bored complacency and mild anticipation. It was the same scene every year on the first day of the semester.

“Excuse me, passing through.”

“Don’t push!”

Of course, the commotion in front of the main gate was the same. The entrance had been crowded from the morning, as it always was when rumors spread of a celebrity enrolling in the school. The only difference this year was that this year’s protagonist was the same person as last year.

“CBS reporter Jeong Yoon-joo. Yoo Ho-jin, how are you feeling?”

“What is the schedule?”

Amidst the sea of black machines, a barrage of questions poured out and flashes went off.

As the students who sensed that something out of the ordinary was happening joined in, the crowd grew rapidly, like ants drawn to candy, and soon began to spill over onto the street. It was a chaotic scene that unfolded in just 10 minutes after Yoo Ho-jin had arrived.

“Could you tell me what your daily routine is like during the semester?”

“What courses are you taking? Give us an outline.”

A national swimming athlete of South Korea. A genius who appeared like a bright star from humble beginnings and managed to win an Olympic gold medal at the age of nineteen.

The first day of school for Ho-jin had already taken place last spring. Yet, there was a different reason as to why the reports were suddenly fixated on him this year.

Of course, neither Ho-jin nor his manager standing beside him was unaware of what people were actually curious about. They were simply avoiding it.

“Today will mostly be orientation. After that, I plan to do some light training as usual.”

“Where?”

“Will you be using the gym alone?”

The reports meticulously noted down Ho-jin’s schedule as if their lives depended on it. A while later, the conversation continued with trivial matters–a result of both sides making a concerted effort not to cross certain boundaries.

“That’ll be all for now.”

Watching everything carefully, the manager drew the line, and the sound of applause and zipping bags could be heard from various directions. Ho-jin felt relieved on the inside.

“Thank you. Then…”

“Just a moment.”

He opened his mouth with a noticeably more relaxed expression, and someone in the distance suddenly raised their hand.

“Do you have any special plans for this spring?”

That question was like a boulder thrown into the middle of an ice rink.

The bustling movements froze instantly, and everyone’s gazes turned to the reporter who had asked the question. Everyone had unanimously promised not to ask about that today, which was the only reason why they had been able to stop Ho-jin after he adamantly refused to do interviews.

Some reporters began to protest by grumbling out loud, saying that it wasn’t right to stir up an athlete on their first day of school and that this went against what they had agreed upon earlier. However, mixed among the curious gazes was a clear sense of envy–no one had mustered the courage to ask the question.

“I am Kim Ju-ho from Hankyung Daily. There hasn’t been any official statement since the incident in Gwangju.”

The reporter confidently lifted his head.

“Many people are curious. Are you in a condition to compete normally in the next competition?”

The question was brutally direct. Instead of answering, Ho-jin looked at his manager. The manager slightly shook his head, signaling not to say anything more. However, there was no way to stem the flood once it had begun. Other reporters cautiously observing began to speak up one by one.

“Are you still recovering?”

“We understand that the rehabilitation program has ended. What have you been doing since then?”

“How are you managing your diet? Are you still receiving treatment at Shingam Hospital?”

“Are you only receiving surgical consultations?”

Just by avoiding Kim Ju-ho’s question, the situation

At first glance, it seemed trivial, but in reality, they were questions that would be troublesome no matter how he answered them. Ho-jin began to speak with a perplexed expression.

“Well, that…”

At that moment, a sharp and loud screech echoed from afar. Everyone surrounding Ho-jin turned their heads toward the sound.

A mid-size sedan suddenly emerged from the six-lane road, drifting at the tail-end of a left-turn signal and charging toward the front of the main gate at an abnormal speed.

Despite being far enough to notice the crowd that had spilled out, the car showed no signs of slowing down. Instead, it approached even faster, and startled people jumped onto the sidewalk. However. several reporters who hadn’t managed to quickly gather their large equipment were still left on the road.

At this rate, a collision was inevitable. Ultimately leaving their equipment behind, people evacuated first, and in the blink of an eye, the sedan came to a screeching halt just two meters away from an aluminum camera box.

Was that person insane? Who drove like that? Amid the commotion, a reporter who just barely made it onto the sidewalk shouted loudly at the driver.

“Hey, this crazy… Hey, you!”

Then the heavily tinted window rolled down slightly. It was too narrow to make out the driver’s face, but a pale, slender finger emerged through the opening. The finger gestured as if to say something about moving the camera box on the road. A reporter rushed over and knocked on the window.

“Hey! Didn’t you see the people here? Who drives like that near a school?”

With that, the finger disappeared from the car window.

“It looks like you can’t even understand a simple sentence…”

Just as the reporter was about to say something more, lowering their gaze toward the crack in the window, the hand reappeared and handed something to the reporter.

“…….”

“…”

The reporter immediately fell silent upon realizing that what had been placed in his hand were twelve checks worth a million won each, and the students watching the situation began to murmur.

“Is it a professor? What is that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see it clearly. It looks like some kind of paper…”

About ten seconds passed before the car next to the stunned reporter flashed its hazard lights a couple of times and then turned into the opposite lane.

It skidded backwards, then swerved back into its lane and soon disappeared around the corner. For a moment, the onlookers were mesmerized, but then they soon lost interest and turned their heads away.

“Huh?”

However, the spot where Ho-jin should have been standing was empty.

“Then we’ll wrap this up now.”

While everyone was distracted by the crazy car, the manager had secured an escape route and concealed Ho-jin behind him.

“Please direct any questions about his health to the company.”

Beside them stood security personnel who had just arrived at the school’s request.

The reporters muttered in disappointment and began to leave reluctantly. This included both the reporter who had asked the first question and the one who had nearly been hit by the car.

Eventually, Ho-jin and the security guards soon headed toward the inside of the school gate. The crowd that had gathered like a flock of clouds dispersed.

“But Yoo Ho-jin is really handsome.”

“I know right? He looks even better in person.”

Only a few students, still excited by the unusual scene, remained until the end, whispering among themselves, but even that quickly died down.

The scene was like a new spring, with countless things blooming and withering silently.

***

March in Korea was much colder than he remembered. Jeong-in slammed the car door, his shoulders shivering against the chill through his thin sweater.

It had been the middle of January when he had arrived at the airport, so the biting wind was to be expected. In theory, however, the weather should have warmed up by March

“Yes, Uncle. I’ve just arrived and parked.”

He adjusted the stack of books in his arms. Even though there were only three or four, their thickness was almost too much for one arm to carry comfortably. A gentle urge to end the call tickled at her consciousness, but alas, the person on the phone still had a lot to say to Jeong-in.

Now, he was insisting on replacing Jeong-in’s car–even though he hadn’t taken the temporary license plate off yet.

“Yes, the ride was fine. Um, no. You really don’t have to do that. Driving here is pretty bad and I don’t think anything bigger would be comfortable. Yeah, I might as well get a new place nearby.”

The roads around the century-old campus were in complete disarray. Even the main road in front of the gates was a hellish tangle of people and vehicles, while the maze of alleyways displayed on the navigation system was ugly.

Clearly, this neighborhood had not been designed with personal vehicles in mind, let alone the larger model his uncle was proposing.

“I’m really fine. I’ll let you know if I need it.”

Jeong-in’s firm refusal momentarily silenced his uncle, but he soon pivoted to other concerns, repeating the words he had heard at least ten times on the way to school.

–You have to call home, Jeong-in.

“Alright.”

Recognizing his attempt to brush it off, his uncle adopted a stern tone.

–Don’t just say you understand.

Feeling a bit embarrassed Jeong-in stayed silent as Hyun-wook continued speaking.

–Stay close to Hyo-jun, and if you feel even a bit unwell, go see the director. Don’t be lazy about carrying your bag, and contact me anytime if you need pocket money.

Ironically, Jeong-in was not following a single piece of advice in his lengthy instructions.

He didn’t want to go looking for Cho Hyo-jun, and although he felt a little feverish in the morning, he shrugged it off as something that happened often. The thought of carrying around a bag and opening it and closing it was a pain in the ass, so he didn’t even consider it. Earlier, he’d given away all the cash in his wallet as an on-the-spot settlement at a reckless guy who had jumped out onto the road moments before, but he thought it was unnecessary to mention that such an incident had already happened less than an hour into the school day.

“…”

Wondering if someone was watching him, Jeong-in quickly scanned his surroundings. All he could see were a few parked cars in the shade and people walking in the distance.

–Don’t forget your umbrella. It should be in the trunk.

“Umbrella?”

He lifted his head to look up. Between the peacefully following clouds, an intimidating blue sky poked through.

–They said it would rain today. Don’t catch a cold by getting wet for no reason.

“Yes. But I need to go to class now, Uncle. Cho Hyo-jun is here too. I’ll call you back later.”

–Jeong-in.

“I love you, bye.”

He quickly hung up the phone.

What replaced the voice that had been filled with worry until the end was a peace so profound that it was almost lonely. Standing in the midst of it, Jeong-in inhaled a small breath. The crisp air was faintly imbued with the fresh scent of grass, accompanied by the fragrance of flowers that hadn’t bloomed yet.

The scent of flowers seemed out of place in this weather. It probably meant that another Alpha or Omega was nearby.

“This won’t do.”

Jeong-in opened the car door again and took out a pill bottle rolling around in the cup holder. He hesitated for a moment, remembering the doctor’s advice to only take the medication when the pain felt severe. However, after making the big decision to attend school, he didn’t want his mood to be ruined on the first day by being overwhelmed by the scents of others.

Thinking that one day should be fine, he swallowed the suppressant pill without water.

From now on, it’s a gamble. Jeong-in prayed silently, his brows slightly furrowed.

Please, let today be the same–

So that no one may know me.

And let me go unnoticed.