Chapter Text
The air in the studio felt heavy.
Sheng Shaoyou, oblivious to the strange tension hanging in the air, scrolled through his phone in search of information about someone he had no idea who they were.
It wasn’t the first time he had tried.
He had searched before — more than once, actually — always ending up in the same place: nothing concrete, nothing useful. All he had were two initials and Google, as if that would ever be enough.
HY.
The only trace of someone who has been with him from the beginning.
His first fan. The one who always sent him emails congratulating him and chatting about anything.
Shaoyou has been searching for him for years.
Gao Tu approached where the idol was sitting and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. The gesture was subtle, almost too careful.
Shaoyou looked up from his phone and met his gaze, immediately noticing something different. It wasn’t obvious, not something he could clearly define, but it was there in the way Gao Tu carried himself, in the slight restraint in his expression, as if he was holding something back.
Deep down, Sheng felt something he couldn’t name. He didn’t know whether he should be worried, relieved, or even question it at all. Still, the feeling refused to leave him alone.
Gao Tu was two years younger than the alpha, yet managed to have a very similar physique. Unlike other omegas, he was dominant, with a sturdier build and taller stature, and he could conceal his own pheromones. Even so, around Sheng Shaoyou, the omega would relax, becoming so at ease that, from a distance, he seemed almost comically smaller.
Seated beside the alpha, he sighed before speaking, his voice slightly unsteady.
"Shaoyou, I need to tell you something…"
"Go ahead," the alpha replied, slipping his phone into his pocket without taking his eyes off him.
Over the past few weeks, Gao Tu had been appearing increasingly energetic and fragrant. The omega who had once always been serious, who never released his pheromones, now seemed completely radiant in front of his best friend. Sheng Shaoyou had noticed, often looking at him with suspicion. Perhaps because of the way he was raised, he never asked him directly, afraid of making the omega uncomfortable. But deep down, he knew his Gao Tu was hiding something — and something in the depths of his intuition kept screaming “alpha.”
Gao Tu had another alpha.
And that, strangely enough, bothered him.
It shouldn’t have.
Gao Tu was free to live his own life and be with whoever he wanted. Sheng had never claimed ownership over him and had no right to.
And yet, it bothered him anyway.
Not like anger or jealousy that could be clearly named, but like something quieter and more constant, a pressure sitting at the back of his chest that never fully disappeared.
It was irrational.
Maybe even unfair.
But it was there.
Because deep down, Sheng knew exactly where it came from, even if he refused to acknowledge it.
Because deep down, he had never forgotten how it all began.
Nor how it ended.
And maybe that was exactly why it lingered so heavily now — not because of what Gao Tu was doing, but because of what Gao Tu had once meant to him.
—
Sheng Shaoyou and Gao Tu met in high school, when they were still teenagers.
Gao Tu transferred into Sheng’s school after scoring almost perfectly on the entrance exam, earning a near-full scholarship to one of the most prestigious institutions in the country. Even without a stable financial background, he stood out immediately, collecting awards and recognition as if constantly proving he belonged there.
In their second-to-last year of school, Gao Tu joined the student council and eventually volunteered to tutor struggling students.
That was how he met Sheng Shaoyou.
Or rather, how Sheng ended up sitting across from him.
A student on the verge of failing Mandarin.
By school policy, Sheng was required to study in the library every day at 3 PM. Months passed without improvement, and eventually Gao Tu was assigned to him.
He approached without hesitation.
"Hello, how are you? My name is Gao Tu. I’m part of the student council and I’m here to help you."
The alpha didn’t even look at him. He was completely absorbed in a comic book he had taken from the shelves, while his Mandarin textbook remained untouched on the table.
"Ah, hi."
Gao Tu didn’t react negatively. He simply sat beside him and stayed quiet for a while, observing the space around them.
The library was large, filled with heavy wooden shelves stretching across the entire room. Rows of books of every genre gave it a quiet sense of importance, as if the place itself demanded attention even when no one was paying it.
At the corners, computers stood alongside tables and scattered seating areas, most of them occupied more by abandoned books than by students.
Still, it was comfortable.
Almost too comfortable.
With soft chairs and constant air conditioning, it wasn’t surprising that Sheng Shaoyou often ended up sleeping there instead of studying.
Gao Tu watched him for a moment longer before leaning slightly closer.
The silence between them grew heavier.
Shaoyou eventually lost focus on the comic. The presence beside him became impossible to ignore, pressing gently into his awareness until he finally looked up.
For a brief moment, something shifted in his expression. The air tightened slightly, like his breath had caught without permission.
Gao Tu was striking in a way that wasn’t immediately obvious. His features were soft, with long lashes, a round face, and gentle eyes, but beneath that softness there was something more composed, something that didn’t quite match the expected image of an omega.
For a second, Sheng even wondered if he might be a beta, or perhaps even an alpha.
He quickly recovered, closing the comic with a slight awkwardness.
"Are you just going to stand there?"
Gao Tu turned toward him and smiled.
"I was waiting for you."
It was a school large enough for people to fade into the background. Not everyone knew each other, and most students passed through each other’s lives without leaving much of a mark. Sheng had never paid much attention to that. To him, people were temporary presences, filling space before disappearing into memory.
And yet, some of them lingered.
Not clearly.
Not loudly.
But enough to remain somewhere in the back of his mind.
He didn’t think much about it then.
—
A few days earlier, after a performance, the stage lights were still burning in his memory when Sheng Shaoyou stepped out of the venue.
His body was still warm from movement, muscles slightly tense from the dance, but his mind was already detaching from it. Performances always left that strange emptiness behind — applause fading too quickly, replaced by silence that felt heavier than sound.
He walked through the backstage corridor while staff moved around him in controlled chaos.
That was when he saw it.
An envelope, placed carefully in a way that didn’t look accidental but also didn’t draw attention at first glance. It wasn’t dropped, and it wasn’t handed directly to him. It was positioned as if it had been waiting there on purpose.
There was no name on the front.
Only a small marking in the corner.
HY.
Sheng stopped.
He didn’t move for a moment.
Then he picked it up.
The paper felt ordinary in his hands, but the timing didn’t.
He glanced around. No one seemed to be paying attention to him specifically.
Still, the feeling lingered — as if someone had just been there moments before, or as if someone already knew he would arrive.
He opened it.
Inside was a short message.
Nothing excessive. Nothing decorative.
Just a few lines that felt strangely deliberate, as if they had been written with him in mind rather than about him.
He read it once.
Then again.
And for reasons he couldn’t explain, he didn’t throw it away.
He kept it.
—
The years passed.
What once were two strangers with completely different lives eventually shared the same university, and later, the same apartment. Gao Tu and Sheng Shaoyou began living together shortly after college started. At first, Gao Tu refused. Sheng came from a wealthy family and had no real need to work even if he insisted on doing so. Gao Tu, on the other hand, always felt slightly out of place in that world.
For a long time, he felt like he didn’t belong.
But Sheng was persistent — annoyingly so. Eventually, Gao Tu gave in under the condition that everything would be split equally.
Somewhere along the way, their relationship shifted.
Gao Tu didn’t hide his feelings.
He never needed to say them directly. They were in the way he stayed close, the way he lingered nearby, the way he always remained within reach.
But Sheng never returned them.
Not in the way Gao Tu wanted.
It came out one spring afternoon.
"I love you."
Sheng hesitated.
"I love you too… but I can’t give you what you want."
"I want you. I want you, Shaoyou. Nothing else."
"You don’t understand."
"Then explain it to me."
"I promise I will. Someday."
"But I love you…"
"I love you too. I’m sorry."
Gao Tu understood then that it wasn’t rejection, but it also wasn’t acceptance.
Over time, what he felt changed. What had once been love slowly softened into something quieter, something steadier — almost protective, like affection that no longer demanded anything in return.
Sheng, however, never completely forgot him.
So, he tried with others.
There were others, simple relationships that required nothing from him emotionally, nothing that forced him to confront what he avoided.
But none of them were Gao Tu.
In the end they still together on the day Shaoyou was called for his first job as a backup dancer in a neighborhood band.
They still together when Gao Tu was accepted into the secretary position he had wanted so much.
They still together when the alpha was called to debut at HS Entertainment
Together.
That was how Gao Tu came to be assigned as the manager of Shaoyou’s — life — career.
—
Gao Tu was nervous.
His hands tightened around the clipboard pressed against his chest. His usual calm expression had cracked, replaced by something closer to unease. Even his pheromones carried a faint trace of anxiety.
Before he could speak, a shout cut through the studio.
"Oh my God! Mr. Hua is arriving any minute!"
The room instantly erupted into chaos. People rushed in different directions, voices overlapping, equipment being moved in a hurry.
It was pandemonium.
Sheng didn’t notice when Gao Tu stepped away.
When he finally looked again, Gao Tu was gone.
His chest tightened slightly.
He reached into his pocket.
Empty.
Worried about the omega, his trembling hands searched for his phone, hoping to contact him. Troubled by his empty pockets and completely oblivious to the crowd, he began to feel along the seats behind him, while his gaze swept across the room. Shaoyou searched for the omega he loved so much at a dizzying pace, his eyes resting on each person for less than half a second before dismissing them for not being his Gao Tu. All the while, he desperately—and unsuccessfully—tried to find his phone and send him a message.
Then his hand brushed against something.
Soft. Warm.
Shaoyou froze.
He turned abruptly and found a face only a few centimeters away from his own.
Large dark eyes stared at him with pure adoration.
However, Shaoyou didn’t take long before staring into those eyes and realizing where his hand was resting. Completely flustered, the alpha jumped back and stood up. He bowed repeatedly to the stranger, repeating, "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…"
Receiving no response, the alpha returned to his usual posture and finally took a better look at the person in front of him. The stranger was still staring at him without saying a single word.
It was like a silent devotion, yet completely obvious.
His eyes shimmered in an unmistakably tender way.
There was something there.
It didn’t feel exaggerated. It felt… directed.
He looked like he was seeing the absolute fucking heaven.
The man stood up, now almost shoulder to shoulder with the alpha, and extended his hand.
"Hello, Mr. Sheng! My name is Hua Yong. I’m so happy to finally meet you! You are absurdly talented. Has anyone told you that today?"
Shaoyou hesitated before accepting the handshake.
Something about this didn’t feel exactly wrong.
But it didn’t feel normal either.
It didn’t sound like empty flattery.
It was too specific.
As if it wasn’t just praise spoken out of politeness, but something thought out long before this encounter even happened.
He watched as the smile on Hua Yong’s face grew before he stepped back a few centimeters.
The alpha felt a strange chill run down his spine, but in a bizarre way, that sensation was suddenly replaced by a — almost — genuine interest in the small man in front of him.
"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hua. I appreciate the compliments, but don’t be such a flatterer."
Inexplicably, the strange man — whose name was Hua Yong — only smiled even brighter.