Chapter Text
The little cafe sat perched between a music store and stationary shop, along one of the busier streets that surrounded the university district. Students ebbed in and out, office workers who stopped by before heading home. A curious tourist trying to follow a TikTok claiming it was ‘Busan’s Hidden Gem’.
To Jimin, however, it felt different.
Maybe, it was because she had spent almost the last three years, her entire degree, working there. Maybe it was because the owner had hired her on the spot after a very clumsy interview and absolutely no cafe experience, and gave pity on an architecture student with the most unpredictable schedule yet.
Or, maybe, it was because the cafe always found a way to feel warm, no matter the season. Probably a result of the managers experience, but Jimin loved to claim that it was all her own little charm that brightened up the place!
The cafe, truly, was small! A handful of tables pushed near the windows, with worn surfaces and pendant lights that hung overhead to cast amber rivets of light across the room. A crowded countertop, the real heart of the cafe, cluttered with every little collected tool to make almost any specialty drink. Heavy shelves throughout the entire store filled with memorabilia, little old records and photocards. Tea tins, coffee blends, knick knacks picked up from the entire world.
The best part of the cafe (beyond being friendly to every hybrid!) was the fact that the owner encouraged each barista to experiment and find creativity in their work. Every barista could create their own signature blend, whether or not it was a remedy against heats or school stress, didn’t matter. Best one of the week always made it to the menu.
Thank goodness Jimin and her contributions always leaned heavily towards the tea, something Minjeong quipped as ‘tea disguised as architecture’. Whatever that one meant!
That day in particular, had been eerily quiet.
The last customer of the day left with a polite bow and paper cup in her hand, muttering her insistence of coming back by morning. Jimin automatically returned a small, shy smile, tail curling and flickering in excitement like a stupid kitty. She hummed and pushed hair back out of her face, barely muffling the sound of the door chiming shut beyond their rustle and flickering.
Silence followed, and there was still another thirty minutes until closing time. Nice! All the time in the world to clean up, and all of the time to continue to pretend like she didn't have a thesis literally looming over her shoulder. It gave her time to try out a few more tea combinations while on the clock!
Goodness, her architecture professors would be so horrified at the idea of Jimin spending all of her time messing around with tea combinations instead of trying to think about her final thesis, but Jimin had been stumped for weeks and weeks and couldn’t grasp a concept further than a stupid blank room.
Regardless, Jimin brushed off her hands and turned to fill up a kettle, setting aside some green tea leaves to try and steep, before something interrupted her.
A scent. Strong, unfamiliar, and wrong.
Jimin’s face immediately morphed into a frown, careful to not drop the hot kettle against her hand and all over the floor. The scent was nothing near what the tea leaves, or the lined up syrups and jams smelt like. She still checked it all regardless, just to triple check, and nothing matched the unfamiliar strong scent that tried to cling to every inch of her brain. The smell lingered and grew stronger, creating a small wobble to settle on Jimin’s lips to settle with the tightening of her stomach.
She turned her head slowly, and noticed the scent directed from the back hallway, towards the staff room… exactly where Minjeong disappeared to almost fifteen minutes ago.
“Minjeong-ie?”
No answer.
So, Jimin, as the stupidly brave alpha she was, began to creep down the hallway as the scent intensified stronger and stronger. Something about it made the hairs against the back of her neck stand up, tiger instincts stirring uneasily beneath her skin. Not with danger, something too unfamiliar.
“Minjeong..?”
Jimin’s tentative fingers reached out and cracked the door to the staffroom open, eyes flickering to try and find where the fawn had disappeared off to.
Instead, her breath caught the moment that scent hit her all at once. Sweet, overwhelming, and so rough and tantalizing she had to fight back urges to focus on the matter at hand, while bright golden eyes focused on Minjeong.
Crouched against the wall, trembling, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Little fawn freckled face flushed a deep red, eyes blown and unfocused, and completely terrified.
For a moment, Jimin simply stared, frozen on the spot, until her stupid alpha brain managed to finally run up until understanding struck her like an entire bus. “Oh shit–”
“Don’t come closer.”
Minjeong’s voice cracked, in a meek little way, scared at the face of a predator clearly finding out her supposed ‘beta’ coworker like this. Minjeong’s fingers tightened against her sleeves, causing Jimin to make an immediate step backwards.
Every little instinct inside of Jimin screamed loud, too loud, and too sharp. Minjeong’s crispy, cinnamon toasted pudding crumbling in the air, wrapping itself right around Jimin and every sense, refusing to let go, causing her to immediately cover her mouth and nose, teeth digging straight into her palm to try ground herself.
Ah, Minjeong was in heat, and that realisation almost knocked Jimin to her knees.
“Minjeong…–”
“Stay back!”
Jimin saw it a mile away. Fear directed right at her, not the situation… it was all on Jimin. The sight panged an ache harder than it should have, but Jimin pushed it off, trying to click every bit of focus into helping the little fawn.
Jimin, with teeth peeling out her hand, turned her cheek and scanned along the little shelf in the staffroom for the emergency first aid kit. If her manager was smart, there should be some suppressants in there that could help, something to at least get Minjeong out of there and home safe.
By the time she grabbed the case, her fingers were shaking wildly, but she managed to pull the injector out and carefully loaded it up with what seemed like the correct dose. She turned back to face Minjeong, only to find her pressed impossibly closer into the wall.
…as if Jimin was to do something terrible, as if she expected every alpha stereotype she’d spent her lifetime hearing to suddenly become true.
Jimin hated the look and struggled to shake it off, clearing her throat. “Minjeong…” she whispered, pausing to let the fawn focus on her, deep brown ringlets curling her face as she flinched. Jimin forced herself to stay calm with a swallow. “I’m going to give you this medication.”
For several long seconds, Minjeong didn’t move, her entire body trembling like a wild leaf. And then, slowly, she extended an arm. Giving barely an inch, but trusting enough for Jimin to step forwards. Slide the tiny needle against her arm and administer the suppressant. Neither spoke.
The second it was done, Jimin retreated, the staff room door shut behind her. Only then did she finally let out a heavy breath she had no clue she had been holding for so long. Her entire body felt too shaky, warm and aware of the scent that lingered.
“God.”
No one had really ever explained to Jimin, just how overwhelming the smell of an Omega in heat was, and how powerful it really felt. Well, how would she know when she doesn’t try and leap at every omega when she gets the chance?
Jimin leaned up on the wall and closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly, trying to rid of the expression that clung to her brain. Minjeong, staring up at her in fear. Not embarrassment, not pain, just pure unadulterated fear, directed straight at her.
“Right…” Jimin laughed a little weakly. “That went great.”
Not really.
﹒ ◠ ✩ 𝄞𝄢 ⊹ ﹒
Several minutes later, once Jimin had managed to settle her breathing and wash off the blood from her palm, she finally flipped the sign against the door to CLOSED.
The street beyond the windows had considerably settled down, most people already home and settled in for the evening. For once, Jimin wasn’t focused on that, and instead stood outback, leaning against the doorframe for the staff room. Her hand hovered slowly, careful in reaching out, before gently rapping her knuckles up against the door. “Minjeong?”
A pause drifted, before a stronger voice floated. “...come in.”
Jimin slowly pushed the door open, still holding her breath just in case, but the scent had faded significantly. Thankfully. Still a little strong, but Jimin could think without her tail and instincts going a little bonkers.
Minjeong perched on the corner of the small couch tucked into the corner of the room, her shoulders drawn inward. Complexion remained pale, barely able to make out her little vitiligo fawn spots, even beneath the warm glow of the overhead light. Though, she at least didnt seem like she was about to pass out.
For once, Jimin felt as if she was for a loss of words.
Outside of work, she had barely ever spoken to Minjeong, and it was always about work. Either about shift changes, or from observations.
Minjeong always arrived early. She always practiced finger exercises when she thought nobody was looking. Preferred tea over coffee despite working in a cafe. And, somehow, managed to look irritated while doing… absolutely nothing.
“Uh…” Jimin scratched against the back of her neck, broght eyes searching the floor to ignore Minjeong’s deep stare. “You should probably go home.”
Minjeong blinked. “My shift?--”
“I’ll explain it to boss!”
“But… but the cafe…”
“The cafe will survive.”
Minjeong lowered her eyes, and for a moment neither spoke, until the fawn made an attempt to stand, immediately swaying.
Jimin reached out before she could think and caught Minjeong’s wrist. Warm, far warmer than usual, and startled. She let go almost immediately. “Sorry!”
“No, I…” Minjeong looked away first. “I am fine.”
“You… almost fell!
“I am fine!”
Jimin scoffed, a tiny smile perched on her lips. “You are absolutely not fine..”
Minjeong’s jaw tightened. The stubbornness would have been impressive, if it wasn’t latched onto the fawn who was barely able to stand without swaying like a flag.
Jimin sighed and rubbed her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’ll take you home.”
“No.”
“Minjeong…”
“No.”
“Minjeong-ie!”
Minjeong stared at the tiger in front of her and groaned loudly. Jimin, felt strangely victorious.
That expression was better than fear!
“I can walk.”
Jimin snickered on the spot. “Oh come on… you almost collapsed when you stood up!!”
“Ngh– I’ll take a taxi.”
“Great!”
Minjeong frowned. Jimin beamed, tail spinning beyond her control, kitten like excitement bubbling. “I’ll ride with you!!”
The taxi ride was quiet, almost painfully quiet. Minjeong sat next to the window, and Jimin on the other side, neither speaking up as the city passed in streaks of gold and white. Occasionally, Jimin glanced and caught Minjeong staring outside with a young curiosity, before her eyes quickly looked down again. As if she was trying very hard to not acknowledge Jimin right besides her.
Which was difficult when Jimin practically hosted the height of a small building.
But for twenty minutes, silence settled, blending into the steady hum of radio and traffic. Jimin tried to not stare, and Minjeong tried to shrink into herself. Just a fawn and a tiger, omega and alpha. Well… she didn’t know that Minjeong wasn’t a beta but…
Ah.
The taxi pulled up in a small residential district, packed tight with little apartment buildings. Nothing fancy or too run-down, small and quaint. Minjeong slowly reached out, spots glowing in the soft streetlights, but paused.
“...thank you.”
Jimin blinked, the words sounding almost painful to come out of Minjeong’s lips. And yet, before Jimin could respond, Minjeong quickly continued. “You don’t need to follow me.”
“What if you pass out?”
“I wont.”
“But… but what if you do?”
“I won’t.”
“What if–”
“I won’t!”
Jimin swallowed and held up both hands. "Okay... okay. Alright. I get it." She whispered, even with the tiny little smile on her lips, seeing Minjeong's narrowed gaze. She must not have believed her well, fair enough. Jimin could barely believe herself either.
She sat still as she watched Minjeong exit the car, the fawn briefly settling still, under the light of the streetlight. Small, tired, and still drastically pale. And then she disappeared toward the shadows of the apartment building. Jimin watched until the entry door closed around her, and only then did she finally relax against her seat.
﹒ ◠ ✩ 𝄞𝄢 ⊹ ﹒
Jimin spent the entire taxi ride back to her place, forehead pressed up on the windowsill, tail crumpled in her lap as she let the city buzz into nothingness. Her thoughts remained stubbornly elsewhere. On Minjeong, her heat, the fear in her eyes, the way she immediately assumed Jimin would hurt her.
She understood why.
Yes, the world had gotten better over the years… mostly. But, still, people still talked and made assumptions. Labels that should have meant very little, and yet types still zoned and gravitated towards their own kind. People shaped the way they moved through the world, even if Jimin had never particularly cared. She had grown up hearing the need to treat everyone properly, and equal, and to always be kind. Jimin followed that like a prayer.
Tonight though, was the first time she had ever seen somebody be genuinely afraid of her, because she was an alpha. That realisation alone sat uncomfortably in her chest. Maybe… maybe Minjeong was embarrassed. Didn’t want anyone to ever know her secret. What if… what if Minjeong hated her now?
The thought bothered her beyond belief.
﹒ ◠ ✩ 𝄞𝄢 ⊹ ﹒
Jimin, keys in hand, paused in front of her front door. Eyes focused downward, staring at the light that spilled out beneath her front door.
Ah… okay. Right. She was here.
Jimin giggled under her breath and knocked on her own front door, causing it to swing open almost immediately. Yizhuo stood there with wide eyes, a disaster in the making. Charcoal on her smeared cheek, graphite on her forehead, and something suspiciously blue on her sleeve as she gripped a small model tree.
“...you look insane Yizhuo.”
“Huh?”
“Yizhuo?”
“What?”
“You… you have model glue in your hair.”
The white leopard in front of her froze up, eyes widening and fluffy tail flying around in a panic, almost knocking the door closed. “Oh my god–”
Jimin burst out laughing while she stepped in, watching Yizhuo stumble deeper into Jimin’s apartment, dropping the tiny tree onto the dining table before she disappeared into the bathroom. A loud, horrified yelp followed several seconds later.
“JIMIN?!”
Jimin closed the door and walked towards the dining table to inspect the little catastrophe. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?!”
“Hey. I just got here!”
The response earned Jimin another offended noise she grinned at, sitting down with a loud huff at the table to stare at the small diorama. The apartment wasn’t the biggest, a small one bed one bathroom. A little open space kitchen connected to the open living room that was drowning in everything architecture. Sketch papers rolled up in a corner with a clumsy pile of collected material samples. A variety of half-finished models, all looking a little different than the other.
Well, the dining table had also stopped functioning as one a month ago, and her place was practically a second studio space for herself and one of her closest friends.
Jimin sat down, her eyes immediately gravitating to the model sitting in the centre of the room.
A concert hole… or at least, the beginnings of one. Several curved walls that all spiralled inwards around a central performance space.
Jimin cocked her head. The design looked… familiar, but not right.
“...you are still working on that?” Yizhuo asked as she emerged from the bathroom, no more glue in her hair, towel trying to dry it off. “You’ve been staring at the same thing for three weeks.”
Jimin grimaced, squirming as she hugged herself. “And?”
“And? And you hate it!”
Jimin snorted. Architect students were truly their worst enemies. “I know.”
Yizhuo sat down and let out a small huff, her eyes immediately zooming straight to the bandage on Jimin’s palm. “Your hand?”
Instinctively, Jimin tugged her hand back, an inch too late, Yizhuo was already zooming straight in on her. Stupid leopard. “Why is your hand bandaged?”
“It’s… it is nothing.”
“Jimin…”
With a heavy sigh, Jimin leaned back into the chair, trying to shrink away while the younger leopard stared her down. Annoyingly patient and waiting. She hated when people copied her exact methods. “...fine. Something happened at work.”
Yizhuo perked up and leaned forwards, ears flickering wildly in excitement and interest. “What happened?”
Jimin hesitated, for a fraction of a second, trying to find where to start as the events replayed in her head. The strong scent, the intense panic. Minjeong. And her beautiful but frightened eyes. “...one of my coworkers got sick. Like…” she paused, waving her hand to try explain. “Like… that kind of… sick.”
Yizhuo had to blink for a little, her tiny alpha brain running a million miles until it caught up, mouth forming into a little ‘oh’. “Oh oh… oh okay! Yep!”
Jimin sighed and leaned into the chair, trying to relax a little. Exhaustion settled deep into her bones, adrenaline drifting off, leaving only a tiredness behind as silence settled for a second.
Yizhuo’s expression softened. “A… coworker? The quiet one? The… the pretty blonde?”
Jimin shot up and almost stuttered before she could even look at her. “Well… nngh…” she stuttered, cheeks flushing, knowing she had been caught.
Yizhuo giggled and leaned forwards slowly. “You know her name and her oordeerrr and you somehow know her college timetable… ooh~ is big scary tiger Jimin in loveee with this deer?”
Jimin groaned and tried to lean away, cheeks flushed red, and yet her eyes still managed to slowly lock back on the bandage on her hand.
“...unnie? You okay?”
Immediately Jimin straightened and slid on a careful smile. “Yeah… I’m okay. It’s just… it’s just weird!”
Yizhuo cocked her head, fingers picking up her tools to go back to working on her model, bright eyes staring her down. “Go on.”
Jimin sunk as low as she could, struggling to let her body relax even now, her brain trying to piece it all together. “She… she looked scared.” She started, staring across back to the musical model. “I… well, I don’t think it was because she was sick or because she was caught like that but… ugh. More because of me. She was scared of me.”
The apartment fell quiet. For once, Yizhuo didn’t try to make an immediate joke or tease her, she simply sat still and nodded along slowly. Eventually, she exhaled slowly. “Well.”
“...well?”
“I’m making… ramen!” She insisted and shoved back up onto her feet.
Jimin struggled to follow. “What does that have to do with… anything?!”
“Everything feels far easier after eating ramen! And and… you haven’t had the double ning special in forever unnieeee!”
“That…”
“Shh! Don’t worry! Do not overthink!”
Jimin leaned back as she watched Yizhuo scutter off, the sound of cupboards and fridges opening and closing immediately following her out. She exhaled and tried to focus on the familiar scent of her friend, and to let go of the worries of the day… because, this should simply be nothing. Nothing would probably follow from this, because… well. Minjeong was purely her coworker, and it wasn’t like they ever had a conversation beyond just… work. “Aiyah…”
Jimin couldn’t get her mind off the model that sat centre stage on the dining table. Even with Yizhuo clanking around and creating a loud ruckus in the kitchen, all Jimin could hear was the faint trickle of piano keys, following the mimicked movements Minjeong played on the coffee bench. Her butt scooted over to nick some of Yizhuo’s trace paper and drawing materials, eyes trying to focus in the low light. Maybe she needed to focus on college to get her mind off of things. She should work, sketch, try and start to figure out her final thesis. And yet, instead, her brain was clung to the memory of the pianist, sat silent in the back room of the cafe. Trembling and alone.
Jimin closed her eyes and knocked her head back, barely able to shove the fawn out of her mind. “...I should just sleep.”
“AFTER RAMEN.”
She still managed to chuff. “Fine. After ramen.”
The apartment settled into comfortable ruckus and movement. Outside, the lights continued to glitter white and gold, spring making her mark and fluttering petals over the small balcony, a crisp wind flickering curtain edges. Inside, Jimin tried very hard to not think about Minjeong, and failed miserably.