On a quiet evening around 6 p.m. on February 19, with light snow falling softly outside,
Tougo stepped into the entrance of Amore, the upscale Italian restaurant on the 17th floor of the Peace Department Store. He wore a sleek white chester coat over a white turtleneck sweater, paired with ivory checkered trousers and leather boots. His polished outfit drew admiring glances from those around him.
Before long, an elegant staff member appeared and greeted him with polite warmth.
"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?"
"Um… I'm here to meet Mr.Janda Rose…"
A little overwhelmed by the luxurious atmosphere, Tougo answered in a quiet, hesitant voice.
"Certainly, sir. Right this way, please."
The staff member smiled kindly and led him deeper into the restaurant.
Soft classical music played gently throughout the restaurant, creating a refined and elegant atmosphere. The tables and chairs, all coordinated in white and gold with a European touch, gave the space a lavish, almost palatial feel.
Professor Janda, sipping water, cut a striking figure. At 178 cm tall with a slim, graceful build, he had slightly wavy blond hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore a gray chester coat over a wine-colored three-piece suit. His striking double eyelids framed emerald-blue eyes as clear and beautiful as a mountain lake, perfectly complementing his delicate features. His distinctly French sense of style only heightened his presence.
"Tougo, over here!"
Seeing the professor wave with a warm smile, Tougo felt his nerves ease at once.
"Sorry for keeping you waiting—I'm a bit late."
"It's all right. It's exactly six o'clock, and I only just got here myself."
Ever since Tougo had called to wish him a happy New Year, the professor had kept insisting on treating him to dinner. Their schedules had finally lined up, and they'd chosen this restaurant inside the Peace Department Store—where Tougo also worked part-time at the bookstore.
Knowing it was Tougo's first time at a high-end restaurant, Professor Janda had thoughtfully ordered a special dinner course for two, along with a bottle of premium Italian non-alcoholic red wine called Masseto.
As they chatted pleasantly about little everyday things, a colorful array of vegetable antipasti and the wine were brought to the table.
"This is so good," Tougo said, his cheeks puffing out as he smiled brightly.
Watching that radiant, innocent expression on Tougo's beautiful face, Professor Janda suddenly wondered if this warm feeling was what it would be like to have a child with Paul. A soft, gentle happiness spread through his chest.
"Eat as much as you like," he said with a soft laugh, tasting the asparagus himself.
The two elegant omegas seemed to carry a kind of magic, like stars shimmering in the night sky.
Everyone in the restaurant couldn't help but glance their way, yet the two were long accustomed to such attention and paid it no mind, simply enjoying their quiet meal together.
"Tougo, I got another call from Professor Arlan. He's really eager for you to come to France and join him for some in-depth discussions. Once the new semester starts on March 1, you'll be able to apply for the exchange program. The university will cover all the costs, so there's nothing to worry about. If you do well at France Royal University, you could even skip ahead a grade or graduate early. Please, give it some more thought."
Universities around the world, including Peace University, followed a standardized academic calendar: the first semester ran from March to mid-July, and the second from September to mid-December.
This uniformity made inter-university events and exchanges particularly vibrant and frequent.
"Thank you very much. The truth is, I'm worried about my eighty-one-year-old grandmother, so I haven't been able to decide yet."
"I see, Tougo. I understand your family circumstances. But someone as innovative and extraordinary as you is destined to stir new waves in the stagnant literary world. If you'll allow it, let me take care of your grandmother. I can arrange for a caregiver to look after her full-time. I've already spoken with the dean about it."
"I couldn't possibly impose on you that much. You've already done more than enough for me. I'm truly grateful."
"Tougo, I turn fifty this year. When I was younger, I was completely immersed in literature, and those days were wonderful. Thanks to my father's career as a diplomat, I lived in all sorts of countries—America, England, Germany, Italy, Dubai, Korea, China—meeting diverse people and discovering rich literary traditions along the way. I fell in love, tasted the sweetness of joy, and felt the bitterness of parting. These days I live alone, but my life devoted to literary research feels deeply fulfilling. And ever since I met you, Tougo… I've felt even more inspired. Every day has become brighter and more exciting. Let's explore French literature together, from the ancient classics to the modern era. With you, I feel we could journey through it more deeply, more freely."
As he spoke, Professor Janda extended his graceful hand, the pink-gold ring on his slender ring finger gleaming—the same design as Paul's—and gently clasped Tougo's hand with tender warmth.
After enjoying a delightful dinner, Professor Janda suggested, "There's a book I'd like to pick up," and the two took the elevator down to the Peace Bookstore on the seventh floor.
With his gleaming blond hair and striking beauty, Professor Janda walked beside Tougo, who was dressed in pristine white and exuded quiet elegance. The two drew every gaze as they passed. Yet, they paid no heed to the attention, instead absorbed in an animated discussion about a recently published work entitled Fabricated History.
For once, Tougo wasn't wearing a mask; he strolled through the bookstore bare-faced beside the professor. Passersby couldn't help but turn for a second look, drawn to the exquisite beauty of his features. Standing next to the blond professor, Tougo's chestnut-brown hair made him look almost foreign.
Professor Janda made his way to the English literature section, pulled a volume from the shelf, and handed it to Tougo.
It was Maud Montgomery's The Sober-Minded Neighbor Universe.
"This was nominated for both the Booker Prize and the Goncourt Prize last year. I heard you hadn't read it yet, so I wanted to give it to you. Don't worry—it's a birthday present. January eighth, wasn't it? I was in Switzerland for a seminar then and couldn't prepare anything in time. Will you accept it now? This book has been called a heretic in the world of English literature."
"Thank you so much. I've truly been wanting to read this. I'm very happy."
As Tougo walked through the bookstore with Professor Janda, Kana—the cheerful coworker from his part-time job—spotted them and called out brightly.
"Good evening, Tougo!"
"Evening, Kana."
Kana's eyes widened as she looked at Professor Janda.
"Wow… who's that gorgeous person?!"
"Oh, he's my professor from university."
"Seriously… beautiful people really do attract other beautiful people, huh? I'm so jealous!"
Professor Janda gave a gentle smile and greeted her politely.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Janda Rose. Tougo is always in your care here."
Her face turning bright red, Kana quickly bowed in return.
"Nice to meet you too! I'm Kana Matsushima. I'm so sorry—that was rude of me to say."
"Not at all, please don't worry about it."
"Well then, enjoy your evening! Tougo, see you tomorrow. Bye!"
With a big smile, Kana headed lightly toward the magazine section.
"She seems bright and kind," Professor Janda remarked.
"Yeah, she is. She's been working here for ten years—she's my senior by far—but she hates being called 'Ms. Matsushima,' so I always call her Kana. She looks young, but she's actually a lively mom with two kids. She's always so nice to me. I really like her."
"I'm glad someone as wonderful as her is part of your world, Tougo."
Professor Janda purchased a total of seven books, including a journal of Japanese pure literature criticism, and then offered to drive Tougo home. The two headed toward the elevator.
On the ride down to the parking garage on basement level three, their conversation turned lively as they talked about the professor's volunteer work. He regularly visited children's support facilities, playing guitar and turning stories into songs for the kids. Tougo had accompanied him once last August during summer break and seen it firsthand. The professor's gentle singing voice had been soothing—a beautiful, resonant timbre that touched the heart deeply.
Beyond his role as an educator, Professor Janda was also an accomplished children's literature author, and he donated nearly all of his annual income to facilities for children and people with disabilities.
Tougo felt nothing but the deepest respect for that selfless dedication.
Professor Janda came from a distinguished lineage. On his father's side, the family was an old aristocratic house deeply rooted in politics; on his mother's, they owned the prestigious Rose Hotel chain and Rose Department Stores—a wealthy and prominent name in business circles.
His brother, three years his senior and a dominant alpha, had entered politics at a young age and now served as leader of the Social Party, aiming for the presidency in next year's election. His younger sister, four years his junior and a beta, was thriving as executive director of the Rose Hotels. The three siblings were extremely close, and Professor Janda doted endlessly on his three nephews and two nieces.
Although Professor Janda lived in Hibiscus Hill Town, where Peace University was located, he drove in the opposite direction tonight to take Tougo home. A heavy snowstorm swirled outside, blanketing the world in a pure white, dreamlike winter landscape. The two of them laughed and talked about books, lost in lively conversation.
When they arrived at the Gingasui Public Apartments, Professor Janda reached into the trunk of the car and handed Tougo a photography collection by Sarah Moon that he had purchased in Paris.
"I feel bad receiving so much," Tougo said quickly, waving his hands in protest.
"It's fine," the professor replied warmly. "You're like a son to me, Tougo. I was so happy that I bought all of this. Please accept it. And remember the portrait you drew for my birthday in December? It really moved me."
"Then… I gratefully accept your kindness. Thank you very much."
Back at his Peace Tower Mansion apartment in Hibiscus Hill, Professor Janda called out to his British Shorthair cat.
"Paul, I'm home. Mama's back."
When he heard no meow in response, the professor peeked into the living-room cat tower. There, Paul the cat was sleeping peacefully. Smiling softly, the professor gently stroked his head.
Six years earlier, when Professor Janda had been plunged into profound grief over the death of his partner Paul in a plane crash, his younger sister Sophia had given him a kitten to comfort him. The kitten, she told him, had been born at exactly 8:46 a.m. on September 11—the precise moment of Paul's death. The professor felt it was "Paul's final gift" and accepted the kitten without hesitation, naming him Paul as well.
After finishing his shower, the professor settled onto the amber-white sofa, a cup of warm mint tea in hand, and quietly turned the pages of the journal of Japanese pure literature criticism.
The Omega Support Facility in Hoshizora Town buzzes with activity from 7 a.m. during morning cleaning. Tougo's 81-year-old grandmother, Chikako, works diligently—she's the oldest of the ten part-timers.
By 9 a.m., when the facility opens, visitors start coming steadily. It's the only such center in the Kanto region, located in Tokyo's Hoshizora Town, offering programs to raise awareness about omega biology and preservation.
The facility is a six-story building: the first floor houses the Omega Life Support Center, the second floor the Medical Support Center, the third floor a library, the fourth floor an audiovisual room, the fifth floor a concert hall, and the sixth floor the Support Division office. Parking is provided on two basement levels.
Chikako works from 7 to 11 a.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. Many of the staff here have family members or relatives who are Omegas and bring with them experience in counseling. At 11 o'clock, Chikako puts away the cleaning tools, heads to the locker room to change out of her uniform, greets her colleagues, and then makes her way home with a light step.
When Chikako returned home, she eased her fatigue by soaking in a hot bath. Afterwards, she brewed a cup of warm tea and opened the box of Cailler chocolates that Tougo had received from Professor Janda. Just then, the intercom chimed.
It was exactly two o'clock in the afternoon. Wondering who it might be, she glanced at the monitor and saw a strikingly beautiful foreigner standing there.
"Who is it?"
"Good afternoon. My name is Janda Rose, Tougo's professor. I came hoping we might talk for a moment."
"Ah, nice to meet you. Please, come in."
When she opened the door, a tall, elegant figure appeared. Blond waves fell softly to his shoulders, and pale emerald-blue eyes shone with gentle warmth.
"This is just a small gift, but please accept it."
Professor Janda handed Chikako a box of Toraya plum yōkan as a token of courtesy.
"You really didn't have to… Thank you so much. Please, come inside—this way."
Chikako accepted it with a slightly apologetic smile, then headed to the kitchen. She returned with teacups, carefully pouring tea from the teapot.
"I'm sorry for coming by unannounced," Professor Janda said.
"Oh, not at all," Chikako replied warmly. "Tougo always speaks of you with such joy. We're truly grateful for all you've done for him."
She set out some senbei crackers and smiled. "Please, have some."
Professor Janda turned his gaze to the living room, which was predominantly white and exuded a clean, refreshing elegance. Though the space was simple—furnished only with a brown leather sofa and a wooden table—it carried an air of refined sophistication.
On the wall hung two large paintings that immediately caught his eye: one an oil painting depicting a mysterious cosmos, the other a delicate watercolor of wildflowers.
"These paintings are wonderful," he said.
"The abstract cosmos one was painted by Tougo when he was in his first year of high school," Chikako replied. "He was fortunate enough to win first prize in a national high school art competition. The watercolor beside it was done when he was still in fourth grade—and that one also won an award at a national elementary school contest."
"No surprise there," Professor Janda said with a smile. "Tougo is a genius at everything, including painting."
Chikako couldn't hide her joy; her face lit up with a radiant smile.
"There's also a portrait of me that he painted when he was in eighth grade, hanging in this room," she added. "It won a prize at a national competition as well. Please, feel free to take a look."
Professor Janda stepped into Chikako's neatly organized bedroom.
"This is a masterpiece," he murmured. "Truly remarkable. Tougo should become a painter."
Chikako, showered with lavish compliments from Professor Janda—who looked beautifully stylish in a beige Tagliatore polo coat over a brown checkered suit—couldn't hide her delight; she was positively beaming.
Back in the living room, Professor Janda sipped his warm tea and gently broached the subject of Tougo's exchange program. Chikako listened quietly, cup in hand, before speaking slowly.
"Professor, I'll be just fine on my own, so please let Tougo go. His parents were both remarkable people. His father was a recessive alpha doing brain research at university, and his mother was a dominant omega pursuing a doctorate in psychology. They both passed away in an accident when Tougo was ten, and I've raised him ever since. He started writing characters at two and was reading elementary school textbooks by three. He really is an extraordinary child. Oh—there's something in Tougo's room I'd love for you to see. This way, please."
When they entered Tougo's room, which was neatly arranged, Professor Janda's eyes were immediately drawn to a large wooden bookshelf. It was filled to the brim with books in Japanese, Korean, Chinese, English, French, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, German, Russian, and Arabic—a dazzling array of languages. The range of genres was vast—a veritable treasure trove of knowledge—and the professor couldn't help but stare in amazement.
"Most of these books were left behind by his parents… since their passing, Tougo has cherished them and read them all. It may sound unbelievable, but he's gone through every one of these originals. Ah, here—this is his writing. He's written so much, though it's mostly in foreign languages I can't read myself."
Chikako pulled a large white box from beneath the wooden desk. When she lifted the lid, it was packed full of notebooks.
Professor Janda picked up one thick volume at random and gently turned the pages. Inside were poems Tougo had written between the ages of seven and the end of second grade—beautiful verses in Japanese, English, Korean, and French that struck the professor deeply in the heart.
He took a quiet breath, read through them carefully, and finally spoke.
"This is an incredible treasure. These are masterpieces that absolutely deserve to be published for the world to see."
As Professor Janda's eyes shone with genuine excitement, Chikako gave him a gentle smile.
"Since middle school, he's been writing poems on his laptop. Professor, please help guide his talent so it can truly blossom. I'm already eighty-one, and at my age anything could happen at any time. If I'm gone, Tougo will be left all alone—that's what worries me most. I can't leave him wealth or property, but at the very least, I want him to live securely by making use of his gift. I'm counting on you."
Professor Janda reached out with his slender, pale, beautiful hand and gently enveloped Chikako's wrinkled, weathered one in his own.