Episode1

The spring rain fell gently over Busan that night, washing the petals from the blooming cherry trees and filling the air with a soft, earthy calm. The Park estate, nestled quietly on a hill overlooking the bay, was lit with warm golden lights—one window glowing brighter than the rest.

Inside, the world was changing.

“He’s an Omega,” the midwife whispered, staring down at the small, quiet bundle in her arms. “A natural-born Omega.”

Gasps filled the room. Not from shock, but from awe. Omegas were rare—beautiful, soft-scented, instinctively nurturing. To be born as one, without any enhancers or induced presentations, was a miracle in itself.

Park Jiwoo, Jimin’s mother, looked up from her pillow, her skin damp with sweat and tears. “Omega?” she echoed, breathless.

The midwife smiled, nodding. “He’s perfect. You should be proud.”

And he was.

Park Jimin, her child, was perfect.

---

The boy was impossibly quiet for a newborn. He didn’t cry, even as he was cleaned and wrapped in a white cotton blanket with delicate gold embroidery. He blinked slowly, eyes still adjusting to the world, and let out soft coos but never wailed. His scent had begun to emerge even then—gentle and warm, like sweet milk and fresh petals.

Jiwoo looked at her husband with tearful joy. “He’s an Omega. And he’s so peaceful…”

Mr. Park leaned down and kissed her forehead, his own chest tight with pride and awe. “You’ve brought the Moon’s blessing into our home,” he murmured.

Their attendants smiled. Their home buzzed with soft energy. But none of them knew that word had already begun to spread.

---

By morning, a sleek black car pulled up the winding drive.

From within stepped Min Taekho and his wife, Min Hyejin, dressed in dark coats but with soft smiles on their faces. At their side was a quiet, pale-skinned child with sleepy eyes and a small mouth—Min Yoongi, five years old and sharper than most children three times his age.

They were not strangers.

The Parks and the Mins had been friends for generations. Both families had deep-rooted ties in society, strong reputations in business and academia. But more than that, they trusted each other.

It was on the veranda of the Park estate, five years ago, that Mr. Park had once told Min Taekho:

> “If our children ever align by fate—if one is Alpha and the other Omega—let us promise to bond them. Not for power. But to keep them safe. With each other.”

Taekho had smiled, glass in hand.

> “Then it’s settled. A pact of friendship—and perhaps something more.”

And now, that perhaps had become destiny.

---

Yoongi tugged slightly at his sleeve, his fingers curling into the fabric. “Why are we here?” he asked quietly.

“To see the newborn,” his mother said gently, smoothing down his coat. “Your Uncle Park has had a baby.”

Yoongi blinked. “Babies cry a lot.”

Min Hyejin chuckled. “Maybe. But this one’s different.”

---

Inside, the air smelled of warmth and new beginnings. The moment Yoongi stepped into the nursery, he paused. His nose twitched. Something—something strange—filled his senses. Something sweet, faint, like blooming jasmine after rain.

He didn’t understand it, but it made his chest feel… light.

He followed the scent instinctively. And then he saw him.

A baby, barely a day old, swaddled in white and gold, resting in a bassinet carved with stars. His hair was a soft brown tuft. His lips were a gentle pink. He didn’t fuss. He didn’t wail. He just looked up, small fingers twitching, as if dreaming.

Yoongi stood still.

So still.

“That’s him,” Hyejin whispered beside her son. “That’s Park Jimin.”

Yoongi blinked. “He’s quiet.”

“Very. He hasn’t cried once,” said Jiwoo proudly as she sat propped in her bed.

Mr. Park rose from his seat beside her and extended a hand toward Min Taekho. “It’s happened,” he said, eyes gleaming. “He’s an Omega. And… the doctors confirmed—his scent aligns with Yoongi.”

The room fell silent. Even the nurses stilled.

Min Taekho raised his brows. “Are you certain?”

“His secondary gender came early. Too early for testing interference. And when Yoongi entered… look at Jimin.”

They all turned.

Jimin, who had been dozing, was now awake—wide eyes locked on the boy across the room.

Not on his mother. Not on his father.

But on Yoongi.

---

The two boys looked at one another.

Yoongi stepped closer, almost unknowingly. He didn’t say a word. He just stared. Not out of curiosity, not because he was told to.

Because he felt drawn.

He didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know what scent resonance was. But the moment he stood next to the bassinet, Jimin’s little hand reached toward him.

The baby made a sound—soft, like a hum.

Yoongi exhaled slowly.

> “He’s quiet,” he repeated.

And for the first time that day, a small smile tugged at his lips.

---

The parents watched in silence, something tender swelling in their chests.

“This is no coincidence,” Jiwoo whispered. “It’s fate.”

Min Taekho stepped forward. “Then let us honor the promise.”

He looked down at his son, then at the baby in the cradle.

“From this day,” he said solemnly, “let Min Yoongi be betrothed to Park Jimin. Let their bond be protected by us. Let their union be guided by the Moon.”

“And by love,” Jiwoo added quietly.

---

The official papers were signed later that week. The news made the rounds quietly among high families. There was no public announcement—only a small ceremony held in private, a simple thread of gold wrapped gently around the baby’s wrist, and another tied around Yoongi’s.

A symbolic tether.

One that would not bind them by force—but by fate.

---

That night, as the Min family rode home, Yoongi leaned back in his seat, silent as ever.

But something was different.

“Was he what you expected?” his mother asked softly.

Yoongi looked out the window, watching raindrops race across the glass.

“He looked at me,” he said.

“Did he scare you?”

“No,” Yoongi murmured. “He felt… quiet. Like me.”

His parents exchanged a glance.

Yoongi didn’t speak again that night.

But long after he was tucked into bed, and the house fell silent, he stared at the golden thread on his wrist, twisting it slowly between his fingers.

And in his mind, he remembered a baby with wide eyes and gentle breath—

The only one who had ever looked at him like he wasn’t strange.

---

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***