The hall was quiet, but the silence wasn't peaceful.
It was heavy, thick, as if every wall, every floorboard was holding its breath.
Taekyun stood in the center, shoulders tense, chest tight, breaths coming sharp and uneven.
His anger hadn't faded
It had only sharpened
But now beneath it was something darker, something he couldn't quite name.
Haru's cries tore through the house like jagged glass.
High, piercing, and desperate, shaking the floorboards beneath his feet more violently than any winter storm.
Bora had let the child go.
She had seen everything.
She knew exactly,
what Haru was doing
And exactly who she was running after.
Yet she hadn't stopped her.
Not even for a second.
She had let her go, and in doing so, she had challenged him silently.
When Taekyun stepped forward instinctively, moving toward the echoing sound of his daughter's sobs, three of his most loyal servants moved in unison, placing themselves directly between him and the exit.
Heads bowed,
Hands trembling,
Bodies rigid.
A human shield, strong and immovable.
A single line of defiance meant to give a child freedom to chase a omega her heart was already tethered to.
Taekyun froze.
What is happening?
Why is everyone standing against me?
Why is she walking away from me?
A weight settled in his chest, heavier than anger, more suffocating than any frustration he'd felt in years.
His eyes darkened, not in fury this time, but with a fear that sat like stone in his chest.
Why… for him?
Outside,
The small figure of Haru clung desperately to Haneul's leg.
Her little hands gripped his coat with such force that her knuckles were white.
Tears streaked down her cheeks, leaving trails on the fabric of his coat.
Haneul's chest tightened violently.
His heart ached at the sound of her cries, at the sight of her trembling body.
Slowly, he bent down to meet her, carefully gathering her into his arms.
The warmth of his small body met hers, trying to soothe her, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling in both of them.
"Haru-ah… don't cry,"
He murmured softly, brushing her hair back from her tear-streaked face.
"I'm not going anywhere far. I'll be nearby. I'll come see Haru every day."
Haru shook her head violently, her small body trembling.
"안돼 몽기 안돼 (No… mongi… no)"
The words tumbled out in Korean, raw and desperate.
Each syllable stabbed at Haneul's chest, breaking his heart in ways he hadn't expected.
"Haru,"
He whispered again, holding her closer,
"if I stay here, your dad will be angry right?. I'm just your mongi… not abba.
And Mongi loves Haru… only Haru. I have to stay close to you in a way that doesn't make him angry. I'll come meet you. I promise."
Still, she shook her head, tears flowing freely. Her tiny fists gripped his fingers, desperate, unwilling to let go.
"제발… mongi… 가지마…"
(Please… mongi… don't go)
Haneul's heart cracked.
The pain in his chest was almost physical, sharp, unrelenting.
His body reacted in ways he didn't fully understand the heat cycle beginning, a sudden warmth spreading uncontrollably, emotions and hormones crashing through him like a storm.
Bora stepped forward quietly, calmly,
She knelt beside Haru, taking her small hands in hers.
"Haru-ah," she said softly,
"He's not going anywhere.
I'll take Haneul to my house today.
It's right behind your residence.
You'll be able to see him and play with him every day."
Haneul looked at her, eyes wide, silent.
Bora gave him a small, reassuring nod.
He knelt down, pressing a gentle kiss to Haru's cheek.
"Don't be rude to abba, okay?
We'll meet every day. You can come to Bora's house anytime. I'll be waiting."
Haru's sobs slowed.
She buried her face in his chest, wrapping her small arms around him.
The heat radiating from Haneul's body, so intense against the cold winter morning, comforted her.
Slowly, her little fists loosened their grip, though her tears still flowed softly.
Bora handed Haneul a key card.
"Go. Don't worry," she said.
Haneul's small hands closed around it tightly.
He nodded, stepping back slowly, glancing once more at the girl.
Her eyes were wide and red, but there was a calmness settling over her, even if anger still lingered somewhere deep inside.
As he left,
Haru let herself return to the house.
The sobs had faded into quiet hiccups, and finally, she walked,
Lihan appeared in the hallway, a small smile on his face.
"Haru-ah,"
He said softly, reaching out.
But Haru passed him like a shadow.
She didn't slow down, didn't glance back.
Lihan blinked, dumbfounded, then turned to Bora for explanation.
"Bora… what's going on?"
She rolled her eyes with a slow, knowing sigh.
"Go ask sir yourself,"
She said, disappearing again into the house.
Lihan stared after her for a moment, muttering under his breath,
"Seriously… why is everyone acting like chili today?"
He straightened and walked toward Taekyun's study,
And pushed open the study door.
Meanwhile,
Haneul crossed the short distance to Bora's house.
His tiny body seemed swallowed by the oversized shirt he wore, sleeves hanging past his hands.
His heart hammered violently in his chest not from the cold morning, but from the remnants of hurt, embarrassment, and a heat that surged painfully from within.
The Bora's house came into view, only a few feet from Taekyun's residence, but it felt like a sanctuary miles away from the storm he had just left.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately enveloped by warmth the soft heat of radiators, the faint scent of clean blankets, the careful order of Bora's small space.
He didn't take a single thing with him not clothes, not even his pheromone suppressant.
All he brought was himself, raw and trembling.
Haneul sank slowly onto the couch, pressing his back against the cushions.
He wrapped his arms around his torso as if to contain the storm inside, letting his tears fall freely.
They burned his cheeks, searing with the sting of humiliation, rejection, and that unfamiliar ache he didn't know how to process.
"I'm a fool… an idiot,"
He whispered, voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the heater.
"I… I'm not supposed to like him… not this much… but why… why does it hurt so much?"
His hands clutched his chest, trying to hold onto something.
"How… how can he… say 'get out' to me?" His voice cracked, barely a whisper, repeating the words over and over, like they had branded themselves into his chest.
The tears kept coming, hot and unrelenting.
"I… I didn't mean to… I just… I…"
Haneul whispered to himself, but the words didn't finish.
He simply buried his face further into the couch, letting the warmth and solitude comfort him in ways no one else could.