Phuwin stirred, hand reaching instinctively for the other side of the bed, only to find it cold and empty. A faint chill gripped his chest, heavier than the morning air. He sat up slowly, the oversized shirt slipping down one shoulder, and his eyes immediately found Pond across the room—silent, focused, and dressed in black.
He was packing.
The sight made something ache inside Phuwin.
"You're leaving already?" His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Pond glanced over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, as always—half a mask of control, half shadowed by something unspoken. "I told you. They want me to start training as soon as possible. I delayed a week already."
Phuwin got up and padded across the room barefoot, arms hugging himself. "I thought maybe you'd… change your mind."
"I don't have that luxury," Pond said quietly, zipping the last of his bag. "I need to learn to control it. What I am. What I can do."
"You don't even know what they'll make you do," Phuwin argued, eyes burning. "What if it's not safe? What if they hurt you? What if—"
"Phuwin." Pond stood, stepping closer. "This isn't a choice. I'm not just an Alpha. I'm an Enigma. You've seen what that means. If I don't learn how to control it, I could hurt you. I already have."
"You haven't," Phuwin said fiercely, eyes glossy. "Not truly. You've only scared me. But I was never afraid *of you*, Pond."
Pond cupped his cheek gently, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped free.
"I'll come back to you," he murmured. "I swear it."
Phuwin's lips trembled. "When?"
"I don't know," Pond admitted. "Maybe weeks. Maybe months. But I need you to be here when I do. Safe. With Off and Gun. Promise me."
Phuwin shook his head like a child refusing to be left behind. "You're asking me to stay while you go through hell. That's not fair."
"Nothing about this has been fair," Pond said, his voice low, his touch lingering. "But if I can come back stronger, safer—for you—then it's worth it."
He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Phuwin's forehead, then another one to his lips, softer this time, lingering as if he could imprint the feeling for the days he'd be gone.
Outside, the sound of a car engine pulling into the drive broke the moment.
"They're here," Pond said.
Phuwin clutched his wrist, eyes brimming. "Don't forget me."
Pond smiled faintly, something heartbreakingly tender about it. "I couldn't forget you if I tried."
He stepped back. Phuwin watched him walk away, every step heavier than the last. At the door, Pond turned one last time, and their eyes met across the room.
*I'll come back to you.*
*Wait for me.*
And then he was gone.
The first day without Pond felt like winter had crept into the house despite the summer sun. Phuwin wandered the estate like a ghost, silent and listless. He'd find himself standing in Pond's room, fingers grazing the collar of a shirt left behind, pressing it to his nose just to remember his scent.
Nights were the worst.
Phuwin had gotten used to the way Pond's body warmed the bed, even if they rarely touched while sleeping. Now, the cold side of the mattress was a cruel reminder of the distance between them. His body would curl around the pillow like it was something living, something that could soothe the ache in his chest.
On the third night, he hadn't eaten. Not because anyone forbade him, but because food didn't seem to matter anymore.
Gun stood outside the bedroom, holding a tray with a bowl of soup, hesitant. Off was beside him, arms crossed, worry etched across his face.
"He's barely spoken in days," Gun whispered. "You know how he was before… what if—"
"I know." Off didn't let him finish. "I'll talk to him
Phuwin lay curled up in Pond's bed, facing the wall when Off came in. He didn't turn when the mattress dipped under Off's weight.
"You're not eating," Off said plainly.
Silence.
"You're not sleeping."
Still, nothing.
Off sighed, the sound more hurt than angry. "You know… I've known Pond since the moment he was born. I've never seen him stay for anyone the way he stayed for you."
That got Phuwin to blink.
"He chose to delay the clan's summons. That's not small, Phuwin. That's *huge* for someone like Pond."
"He left anyway," Phuwin whispered. "And he didn't even look back."
Off placed a hand gently on his back. "He left because he's trying to be someone worthy of you."
"I don't want him to be *worthy*, I just want *him*," Phuwin choked out, finally rolling over, his eyes red and puffy. "I didn't ask him to change. I didn't want him to leave."
Gun entered then, walking slowly, holding the soup. "But you *knew* he had to."
Phuwin didn't respond. The tears rolled silently.
Gun sat at the edge of the bed and passed Off the tray. Then he leaned forward and cupped Phuwin's cheek like a father would. "He loves you in his own broken way, baby. And sometimes love means stepping away, so we don't break the people we care about."
"But what if he doesn't come back the same?" Phuwin asked, trembling.
"Then we'll help you both find your way back," Off said softly. "That's what family does."
The next morning, Phuwin came downstairs. He didn't smile. He didn't speak much. But he ate the small breakfast Gun made for him.
Later that day, Off handed him a phone. "It's from the clan. They said Pond sent something for you."
A single voice note. Phuwin opened it in his room alone.
> **Pond's voice, quiet and tired**:
> \_"I couldn't sleep. The training… it's brutal. They say I'm dangerous when I'm exhausted.
> But I thought of you tonight. I remembered how you smiled that one time when you stole my hoodie and pretended to be an Alpha.
> And for the first time in days, I felt like I could breathe.
>
> I miss you. I'm trying, Phuwin. For you."\_
Phuwin clutched the phone to his chest and let himself sob—quietly, but not alone. Because for the first time since Pond left, he knew:
**Pond hadn't walked away. He was fighting his way back to him.**
The training grounds were hidden in a mountain fortress—far from cities, far from any civilization. It was ancient. Cold stone halls whispered with old power. The moment Pond arrived, he was stripped of luxury, identity, and warmth.
"Enigma," they called him. Never his name. Never *Pond*.
He was blindfolded, shackled, dragged into a circular chamber glowing with runes. The moment the cuffs came off, the pain began.
It wasn't physical at first. It was memory.
They forced him to face his worst moments—every rage he'd buried, every time he'd lost control, every flicker of that *other* side of him that threatened to devour everything.
One elder stood above them all: a tall woman with silver eyes and scars on her throat. She didn't speak much. But she *saw* him.
"You feel too much," she said once, after a session where he had exploded with power and nearly cracked the walls.
"I'm not a monster," he growled, hands shaking.
"No," she said. "But your love for that boy will be the thing that either saves you… or destroys him."
That night, Pond nearly ran. But he remembered Phuwin's face—tear-streaked, but brave. He heard Phuwin's voice say, *"You haven't hurt me. Not truly."*
And so he stayed.
Fought.
Changed.
Back at the estate, Phuwin still had sleepless nights. But he was healing in small steps.
Gun began teaching him how to garden in the mornings. "Pond hated dirt," Gun said with a smile. "He said he wasn't made for soft things. You prove him wrong just by existing."
Off took him running in the evenings. "To tire your mind," he said. "To keep it from going places it shouldn't."
Sometimes, when Phuwin cried at night, he didn't hide it anymore. He'd walk into Gun and Off's room like a child, and they would always open their arms. They didn't ask questions. They simply *held* him. Held him until the storm inside him quieted.
And slowly, Phuwin grew fiercer. Not angry. But *steadier*.
When clan members came to check on him, expecting a broken Omega, he sat proudly beside Off and Gun and said:
"I'm not waiting helplessly. I'm preparing to stand beside him when he returns."
And the clan took notice.
Phuwin started writing letters to Pond. Hundreds. Folded, sealed, but never sent.
He poured into them his fears, his hopes, his pain.
> *"I slept in your shirt today. It still smells like you."*
> *"Gun taught me how to make soup you might like."*
> *"I miss your silence. Your chaos. Even your coldness. Because at least then, you were here."*
> *"Please come back. Not changed. Just stronger."*
He hid the letters in a wooden box by the window.
Back on the mountain, Pond stood on a cliff. His final trial loomed: a forced confrontation with the part of himself that he feared most.
The Enigma within.
A magical construct—his double, wild-eyed, cruel, unhinged—appeared before him. Every cruel word he'd ever spoken to Phuwin echoed from its mouth. Every moment he regretted was twisted into violence.
He fought it until his body bled. Until his bones screamed. Until he dropped to his knees.
Then, he did something unexpected.
He stepped toward it.
And whispered, "I understand you now. You wanted to protect me. You were never the monster."
The Enigma double froze… then shattered like glass.
Two months passed.
Then one morning, Off and Gun were preparing breakfast when the front gate buzzed.
Gun answered.
Then dropped the pan.
"Phuwin," he whispered, eyes wide. "Come quick."
Phuwin ran, heart pounding.
At the front gates stood Pond.
Dressed in black, bruised and changed—but not broken. Eyes sharper. Posture different. And yet—
*Still him.*
Phuwin didn't wait. He ran straight into his arms, and for the first time, Pond caught him without hesitation.
"I'm back," Pond murmured, his voice rough, choked. "I kept my promise."
Phuwin punched his chest weakly through tears. "Took you long enough."
Pond smiled. "I had to make sure I was the version of me that deserved you."
Off and Gun watched from the door—Off with his arms crossed and tears in his eyes, Gun with a proud smile and his hand over his heart.