Chapter Text
Kim Gaon and Oh Jinju were set to become Kang Yohan's newest associate judges. Both were relatively fresh faces. One had just graduated from law school in Seoul, while the other hailed from the countryside and had already handled several cases, including a notable one against a major corporation.
“Chief?” Yohan’s assistant, K, interrupted his thoughts.
“I want you to dig deeper into their backgrounds. Follow them closely, especially this one.” Yohan’s gaze lingered on the photo of Gaon, the other Alpha. There was something about him that unsettled Yohan—a gnawing feeling he couldn’t yet place. Whether it was good or bad, he wasn’t sure. “Keep an eye on his connections, and report anything unusual.”
“Yes, sir.” K left swiftly, leaving Yohan alone with his thoughts, his eyes still fixed on Gaon’s photo. What was it about that face that made him uneasy?
---
It was Kim Gaon’s first day as an associate judge. At 29, the young Alpha felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation as he rode the subway into the heart of Seoul, toward the Supreme Court. The screens on the train replayed footage from last night’s SRF fundraising gala, a spectacle Gaon had watched along with the rest of the country.
President Heo’s over-the-top theatrics dominated most of the event, but it was the calm, aristocratic voice of the man who would soon be Gaon’s boss that had caught his attention. Kang Yohan stood apart from the rest of the crowd—his movements measured, his words cutting like blades.
"Who is weak?" Judge Kang had turned the reporter’s question back on them, a cold smile playing on his lips.
“Excuse me?”
“Of the people I convicted, who was socially disadvantaged?” Yohan pressed.
The reporter stammered. “There was a young Alpha who had just entered his first rut, and an Omega with mental disabilities. Some were homeless, others impoverished—”
“The young Alpha you mentioned?” Yohan’s tone was sharp. “He assaulted a classmate, using his rut as an excuse to justify his actions. Alphas and Omegas are perfectly capable of controlling themselves unless they’ve gone feral. He was a rapist, not a victim.” Yohan let the silence hang before continuing. “And the others? A thief who filmed himself attacking his victim, a murderer with no remorse. Are these people ‘disadvantaged,’ or are they simply criminals?”
“Still, some argue that even the disadvantaged deserve—”
“It doesn’t matter to me what someone’s secondary gender is, or their social status. In my court, they are defendants. I don’t care if they’re powerful or not,” Yohan said with finality, his voice rising. “I am the power. The power given to me by the Korean people. Who is above the people?”
Gaon had always known Kang Yohan’s name—every law student in the country did. He was a star judge, admired by many, with fan clubs dedicated to him. Gaon had thought Min Jungho, now Chief Justice and his direct superior, was his inspiration. But he couldn’t help but be swayed by Yohan’s uncompromising stance.
As the subway came to a stop, Gaon stepped out, heading toward the Supreme Court. The streets were busy, a line of police blocking the entrance to the building. Gaon knew from the night’s broadcast that he, alongside Kang Yohan and another associate judge, Oh Jinju, would be part of a controversial new project—a reality show designed to broadcast live trials to the public.
Gaon sighed as he walked up the steps.
---
“Doesn’t it feel strange?” he muttered, glancing at Yohan’s face on the screen. “Something about him just feels off.”
“What do you mean?” Soohyun had teased him the night before, munching on snacks while Gaon expressed his reservations.
“I don’t know, it’s just a feeling I’ve had since I first saw his photo back in law school. There’s something weird about him.”
Soohyun had laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “You’re a judge now, Gaon. Shouldn’t you be the last person to judge a book by its cover?”
Gaon had rolled his eyes at her comment, retreating to the kitchen to grab more food. Neither of them had noticed how silent Professor Min had been throughout their conversation.
---
Now, as Gaon presented his ID to the officer at the door, he was let inside the courthouse, completely unaware that someone had been watching him closely.
“He’s here,” K spoke quietly into his phone. “He’s been sticking to routine, no suspicious activity so far. He had dinner with Chief Justice Min Jungho and a friend last night, but nothing unusual.”
Kang Yohan ended the call and leaned back in his chair, his hands resting in his pockets as he stared out the window of his office. His eyes narrowed as he processed the information. There was something about Kim Gaon that made Yohan want to know more. Maybe it was his connection to Min Jungho. Or maybe it was the fact that Gaon had lost his family to a conman—something that hit closer to home than Yohan cared to admit.
Earlier, Yohan had already met Oh Jinju, the other associate judge, and had found K’s information correct: she was a fan of his, gushing over the opportunity to work with him. Harmless enough, but easily manipulated. Gaon, on the other hand, remained an enigma. He wasn’t exactly a fan, nor had he made any particular move to align himself with Yohan.
Gaon asked for directions at the reception desk, following the signs toward Min Jungho’s office. He found the plaque with his former professor’s name on it and knocked lightly on the door.
“Come in!”
“Reporting to Professor—Oops, I mean, Chief Justice Min,” Gaon corrected himself with a grin as he entered, his first genuine smile of the day. Min Jungho, a Beta, got up from his desk and greeted Gaon with a half-hug, his usual warmth evident.
“You’ll get used to the new title eventually,” Min chuckled. “Come on, let me give you a tour of your new home.”
The two walked through the building, Min showing Gaon around the key areas: the break rooms, the offices, and finally, the courtroom itself. Gaon couldn’t hide the awe on his face when they entered the grand, imposing space. The enormous statue of Themis stood in the center, her scales of justice towering over everything. It was like stepping into a temple dedicated to the law.
Gaon’s expressions were always clear as day—he wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait that could work both for and against him as a judge. He had mastered the art of the poker face when necessary, but on days like today, his wonder was too evident.
Min Jungho laughed softly. “Feels real now, doesn’t it?”
This is real. This is my first job, and I’m a judge, Gaon thought. He hoped his parents, wherever they were, and Soohyun would be proud of him. Soohyun certainly had been the night before when they celebrated together.
The professor guided Gaon toward the next room, where most of the work would take place. The courtroom was designed like an arena, with stadium-like seating arranged to face the judges’ bench. The judges would sit at the highest point, looking down over the entire courtroom—literally above it all, like the law itself. The quiet, empty room felt like a movie theater just before the lights dimmed and the film began.
Despite all his training, Gaon felt a small knot of nerves. He had spent four years as the top of his class, completed two years of specialized judge training, and passed the exam with flying colors. Yet none of that fully prepared him for the reality of what was about to come.
Gaon was snapped out of his thoughts as Min’s voice broke the silence. “Kang Yohan isn’t your typical judge,” Min said, his tone carefully neutral.
Gaon frowned. “What do you mean? From what I’ve seen, he’s dedicated to eradicating corruption.”
Min’s expression darkened slightly. “That’s exactly the problem. He doesn’t think like a jurist. He thinks like a politician. He’s too focused on power, and in turbulent times, power creates monsters.”
Gaon hesitated. “Then why did you put me here? If you don’t like him, why am I working with him?”
Min’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Ever heard the saying, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer?’”
Gaon’s frown deepened. “You want me to spy on him?”
“I want you to stand on the side of justice, Gaon. It won’t be easy, but if it were, anyone could be a judge.” Min patted Gaon’s shoulder, a familiar gesture from their classroom days. “Now, let’s get you to Yohan’s office. You’ll be working closely with him.”
Gaon had sent a box of his work materials with Min the night before, the same night they’d watched the SRF broadcast. It was easier to move things in Min’s car than haul them on the subway. Nodding, Gaon followed Min down a quiet corridor.
“I hope he’s everything people say he is,” Gaon muttered under his breath, unsure if he was more anxious or curious about meeting Kang Yohan face-to-face.
Min left him at the entrance to Yohan’s office, the heavy wooden doors looming at the end of the hallway.
“Good luck,” Min said before disappearing down the hall, leaving Gaon alone.
Taking a deep breath, Gaon knocked on the door. He waited a few seconds, hearing nothing from inside. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and stepped in, moving through the narrow passage lined with bookshelves until he emerged into Yohan’s spacious office.
The man himself stood with his back to Gaon, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city. Yohan’s posture was commanding, his hands in his pockets, his suit immaculately tailored to his tall, broad frame. The air in the room felt charged, Yohan’s Alpha presence palpable, even though he hadn’t turned around.
“Nice to meet you,” Gaon said firmly, trying to control his nerves. His voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of tension he couldn’t fully suppress.
Slowly, Yohan turned to face him.
It was like time froze.
For a moment, the two Alphas simply stared at each other, sizing each other up. The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. The cool breeze from the air conditioner couldn’t hide the fact that Gaon’s palms were beginning to sweat. His heart raced, though he attributed it to meeting his new boss.
Gaon inhaled, and that’s when it hit him—the scent. Mint and pineapple. He hadn’t expected Kang Yohan, an Alpha like him, to have a scent so… appealing.
Yohan, meanwhile, was studying him in silence, his brown eyes scanning Gaon’s face as though it were an intricate piece of art that needed to be deciphered. The longer Yohan looked, the more Gaon felt a chill crawl down his spine.
“Is something wrong?” Gaon finally asked, breaking the strange tension.
Yohan blinked, snapping out of whatever had held him. “Nothing. Apologies.” He cleared his throat. “You must be Judge Kim Gaon.”
Gaon nodded, still trying to shake off the odd feeling. “Yes, that’s right.”
Yohan extended his hand. “Welcome… to the battlefield.”
Gaon hesitated for a moment before reaching out to shake Yohan’s hand. His grip was firm, his fingers calloused but warm. The handshake lingered just a little longer than it needed to, the weight of the moment settling between them.
“Thank you,” Gaon said, trying to ignore the subtle trembling of his fingers as he pulled away.
Yohan didn’t say anything more. He simply turned back to his desk, dismissing Gaon without another word. Taking the hint, Gaon gave a quick bow and left the office, shutting the door behind him.
As he stood outside in the hallway, Gaon took a deep breath, his heart still racing. He looked down at his hand, frowning slightly. What was that?
It had been the strangest introduction he’d ever experienced with another Alpha. Something about it had felt… different. Most Alphas didn’t react well to other Alphas—there was usually an undercurrent of competition or indifference. But this? This had been something else entirely.
Shaking his head to clear the fog of confusion, Gaon turned his attention to his next task: settling into his shared office.
---
Gaon spotted a plaque outside an office, identical to the ones by Kang Yohan’s and Chief Justice Min’s doors, except this one had his name alongside his new colleague’s. He couldn’t resist snapping a photo for the memory. Who knew how long this moment would last? He quickly pushed aside his pessimistic thoughts, slipping his phone back into his pocket before entering the room.
“Judge Kim Gaon?” A bright, cheerful voice greeted him. A woman with an oval face and reddish-brown hair approached, her smile wide and welcoming. This had to be Oh Jinju, the name next to his on the office plaque. “It’s so nice to meet you! I’m Oh Jinju.” Yep, definitely her.
Gaon realized within moments that they were complete opposites—though not in a bad way. He hoped to have a friendly working relationship with her, especially since they would be seeing each other daily, along with Kang Yohan.
“Nice to meet you, Judge Oh,” Gaon replied, smiling back politely but with a touch of reservation. His introverted and somewhat shy nature often gave people the impression he was aloof, but he just needed time to adjust to new environments and people.
Jinju was still arranging things on her desk, gesturing enthusiastically as she spoke. Gaon noticed a smaller box on the left side of the room—likely his desk. He began unpacking his belongings while listening to Jinju chatter away. Though Gaon mostly nodded along, offering brief replies, he made sure to keep up with the conversation, occasionally glancing her way.
It wasn’t long before Gaon picked up on Judge Oh’s scent. If someone hadn’t been paying close attention, they might have mistaken her for an Alpha, given how strong her presence was. However, she was actually a Beta-A, and Gaon couldn’t help but admire how confident and self-assured she seemed.
Once they were both settled in, they started exchanging casual details about their backgrounds—discovering that they shared similar stories of humble beginnings and that this was their first real job in a big city like Seoul. It wasn’t long before Jinju revealed something surprising: she was part of Kang Yohan’s fan club.
Not only that, but she had a small cut-out photo of the Alpha’s face, with a handwritten note of support she had added herself. It was the final piece of décor on her desk. Gaon barely managed to hide his shock, carefully schooling his expression to avoid appearing rude.
He didn’t really get it, but who was he to judge? In a way, it was kind of endearing.
---
Gaon stepped out of the courthouse after his first day, the sky a clear, cloudless blue. The air quality was better than usual, as his weather app had indicated, making it a perfect day—
The screech of tires and the blare of a horn snapped Gaon out of his thoughts. He, along with several nearby guards, turned to see a school bus barreling toward the courthouse, smashing through the security barriers.
Instinct kicked in—his first thought, hearing Soohyun’s voice in his head, was to move out of the way. But then, he saw a teacher leading a group of children across the crosswalk. She didn’t have enough time to turn back. One little girl tripped and fell, left frozen in terror as the bus honked, speeding right toward her.
Gaon didn’t think. He was already running.
He reached the child in time, crouching to scoop her up. That’s when he heard it—a gunshot rang out, shattering the bus windshield. Gaon’s pupils contracted, every nerve in his body flaring with the primal instincts of his Alpha, driven to fight-or-flight.
---
Coincidence?
Kang Yohan had left work earlier than usual that day. He rarely did so, but now, standing outside without his briefcase and far from the garage where K typically picked him up, Yohan realized that his spontaneous decision had placed him in the middle of a terrorist attack.
And right there, in the midst of the chaos, was the young Alpha he had met that morning. Gaon, standing directly in the line of danger. Without hesitation, Yohan’s body moved on its own—another decision he would later label as “spontaneous,” though it felt far too much like the protective instinct he reserved for Elijah.
---
Gaon shielded the little girl with his body, his heart pounding. When he looked up, he saw Kang Yohan—this time holding one of the guard’s guns, aiming at the bus driver with chilling precision. Yohan’s eyes and posture were as controlled and primal as Gaon’s own instincts.
Yohan fired, the shot forcing the driver to swerve in panic. The bus skidded sideways, flipping over and sliding across the pavement at high speed. Gaon’s heart raced as he turned his back to the wreck, fully covering the child and bracing for impact.
By some miracle, the bus came to a stop just a few feet away from them.
Gaon shakily checked on the little girl—she was unharmed. He glanced up again, this time meeting Yohan’s eyes. The older Alpha’s gaze was unreadable, intense. They held each other’s stare for what felt like an eternity, until Yohan broke the moment, turning away and handing the gun back to the guard, scolding him for not using it properly.
Another loud noise. The acrid smell of smoke. The bus had caught fire and was seconds away from exploding.
People around them panicked, screaming about the driver still being trapped inside. Without thinking, Gaon acted again, sprinting toward the bus with no regard for his own safety.
Yohan watched from a distance, a strange mix of interest and disbelief flickering across his features as Gaon pulled the unconscious driver out of the wreck just moments before the bus exploded. Both were thrown to the ground by the blast, and the crowd ducked for cover.
But Yohan remained still, his eyes fixed on the younger Alpha as flames shot up into the sky. The scene was hauntingly familiar, yet entirely different.
Gaon’s ears rang as he slowly sat up, his hands pressed to the ground. Dazed, he stared at the roaring fire that had nearly killed him. Once he regained his senses, he immediately checked on the driver, confirming that he was alive, though unconscious.
Yohan wasn’t sure if Gaon was brave or foolish. He decided to leave before he had to find out.
---
Gaon walked home at sunset, his mind spinning with everything that had happened on his first day. If the rest of the year was going to be like this, he wasn’t sure he’d survive.
But more than the near-death experience, he couldn’t stop thinking about his first interaction with Kang Yohan—how Min had warned him, the way Yohan had expertly handled the gun, and the cold efficiency with which he aimed to scare the bus driver.
Gaon sighed as he reached the steps of his apartment. One of the plant pots was cracked, probably knocked over by someone passing by. He carefully picked it up, climbing the remaining steps to the small area outside his door where he kept his plants. As he prepared the soil in a new pot, Gaon sensed the familiar scent of his childhood best friend before he even heard the gate creak open.
He smiled.
“Trying to grow a jungle here?” Soohyun teased as she approached. It was exactly what Gaon needed after such a long day—her presence was like a soothing balm against the chaos and danger he had faced. A contrast of peace in a day full of the unexpected.
Soohyun, sensing the change in Gaon’s mood, relaxed too. She’d been worried ever since she heard about the attack. It was the reason she’d come to visit him today, despite having seen him just the night before.
“I heard about the terror attack in front of the Supreme Court.”
“You heard already?” Gaon wasn’t surprised. It wasn’t that Soohyun was constantly glued to the news—she was a police lieutenant, and sometimes she got this kind of information firsthand.
When she asked if he had been involved or put himself in danger, as he so often did, Gaon lied. Nothing had happened. There was no point in worrying her unnecessarily. He knew his limits. Or at least, he liked to think he did.
Luckily, none of the news reports mentioned his name or showed his face.
Gaon finished repotting the plant and joined Soohyun on the terrace for a drink. After catching up on the more mundane details of their day — Gaon left out all the bizarre parts of his, of course — Soohyun brought up Kang Yohan.
“It can’t hurt to work with a star like him. He’s got such a compelling story—progressive Alpha, heir to a great fortune, handsome unmarked bachelor, survivor of a tragic accident… People eat that stuff up.”
“You’re right.” Gaon thought back to the teenagers on the subway and to Judge Oh. He chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. “His story’s totally different from mine.”
“What’s wrong with your story?” Soohyun’s voice had a slight edge of defensiveness. She hated when Gaon compared himself to other Alphas. “You’ve been through a lot, and it made you stronger. You’ll be a star now too, with all the fame and money that comes with being on TV.” She began ticking off points on her fingers, grinning. “You’re also a handsome unmarked bachelor, by the way.”
Gaon smirked, but he didn’t need to say anything—he could tell by her scent that she was trying to hide her feelings. It was ironic. Despite how close they were, Gaon found it easier to hide his emotions from Soohyun than from anyone else. It frustrated her at times, especially since she couldn’t hide anything from him, or decipher his scent, since Betas didn't have a keen sense of smell for pheromones.
“Aish, now that you’re a judge, you should move somewhere nicer.”
Gaon felt himself getting defensive. “What’s wrong with my neighborhood?”
“I’m encouraging you to move, not criticizing you,” she huffed, and he laughed. “This area’s changed. There aren’t many people left, and it’s not safe anymore.”
“But it’s the only place…” Gaon trailed off, his eyes distant, memories flooding back.
“What do you mean?” Soohyun already knew the answer but gave him the space to say it anyway.
“It’s the only place that reminds me of my parents.”
Silence fell between them. Soohyun’s gaze lingered on Gaon’s profile, understanding. The Alpha smiled softly, finishing his beer. “Stay for dinner.” He turned to her with a playful scold. “You’ve lost weight. Haven’t been eating well, have you?”
The change in topic brought a grin back to Soohyun’s face. “Hey, if you keep this up, I might just ask you out again.”
Gaon scoffed, rolling his eyes as he stood. It wasn’t the first—or last—time she had said something like that. He got up from the makeshift bench beside her.
“You’ve rejected me five times since kindergarten, but it’s never over until it’s really over.” Soohyun teased, standing as well, her voice light and cheerful.
“I don’t want to lose my best friend,” Gaon replied with a small smile, though it wasn’t the whole truth. He cared deeply for Soohyun, knowing no one in the world understood him the way she did. They’d been through everything together.
But Soohyun didn’t know Gaon’s secret. She didn’t know that he wasn’t as unmarked as she believed him to be.
Gaon’s soulmate mark had appeared when he was 19, during his first year of law school. He had been waiting for Soohyun's visit when a burning pain tore through his back, like fire etching itself into his skin.
Gaon had spent months researching, combing through libraries and online resources. He eventually stumbled upon a rare phenomenon—an anomaly that occurred once every 100 years. Only four cases had ever been recorded, though there may have been more that had gone unnoticed or forgotten over time.
The theory was that these rare soulmates were the same two people, reincarnating across different lifetimes. Some considered it a myth, a fictional story passed down through the ages. Others believed in its historical validity, citing it in academic texts. These soulmates would receive their marks not at the typical age but after some significant, fateful event—sometimes even years after the usual cutoff.
Gaon had laughed bitterly at his own misfortune. What were the chances that he would become the fifth recorded case of this anomaly? It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going to let it define his life. He had already made his decision when his parents passed away: he would choose his own destiny.
If Gaon ever settled down, it would be with Soohyun—the Beta-O who had stood by him through everything. No soulmate mark would change that. He wasn’t going to leave her, and he wasn’t going to give up on what they had. No force in the universe could take that away from him.
Honestly, Gaon couldn’t even picture himself with an Omega. Their scents were pleasant, sure, but they had never triggered any primal instincts in him. Even in high school, when he’d caught the irresistible scent of an Omega in heat, he had been able to separate logic from emotion. He didn’t need an Omega.
People had managed to avoid meeting their soulmates and still lived happy lives with partners they chose for themselves. And who was to say soulmates couldn’t be platonic? The important thing was that Gaon’s mark was easy to hide, tucked away on his back. He planned to keep it that way.
If he ever did meet his soulmate, they’d only recognize each other if they happened to see the matching mark. Until then, Gaon would focus on his career. He would eventually confess to Soohyun, once they were older and had more stability in their lives. When that day came, he would tell her everything, including the truth about the mark.
But for now, he wouldn’t risk their friendship.
“I'll cook,” Gaon said, snapping back to the present as he gathered the empty beer cans. “You finished your drink, right?”
Soohyun rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle attempt to change the subject, but she still smiled. “Yes… you heartless jerk.”
Gaon laughed and made his way down the stairs toward the kitchen. “Love you!” he heard Soohyun shout after him. He turned back, forming a finger heart with his hand—then quickly flipped it into a middle finger, drawing a burst of laughter from her.
It was worth it if they could keep making each other happy like this.