Predator Alert chapter 26

* * *

“…No, Yoontae is hurt.”

It was clear that Hayan disliked Pyo Yoontae more than anyone else.

Even when Yoontae said he was hurt, Hayan didn’t show any concern; instead, he smirked as if finding it amusing.

Jeongseo couldn’t quite understand why Hayan hated Pyo Yoontae so much.

It seemed to be about their grades, but he couldn’t figure out why that alone would cause such hatred.

“Are grades that important to you?”

“Of course. Why else would I go to school?”

“…Because my mom and brother told me to.”

Hayan let out a short laugh, clearly not expecting that kind of answer.

“This isn’t middle school. You’re not a kid, are you? If you want to live well and make a lot of money in a place like this backwater, the only thing you can do is study. Look at them, like those guys.”

His hand, which had dropped from his notebook, gestured toward the kids playing soccer.

“While they waste their time on temporary pleasures, I’m studying to secure my future success.”

Hayan’s black eyes flickered with the same intense emotion Yoontae had shown when talking about his first love.

But something was different.

“Success is really that important to you, huh?”

“Obviously. You should get your act together and focus on studying, too. Don’t get sucked into the private tutoring nonsense.”

“No, it’s not about getting sucked in. It’s fun to do things together. It’s much better than being alone.”

“…That’s not important right now.”

Muttering softly, Hayan turned his attention back to the notebook filled with English vocabulary.

‘I get it.’

Jeongseo finally realized what the difference was between Pyo Yoontae and Hayan.

When Pyo Yoontae talked about his first love, he seemed happy.

But Hayan didn’t look like he was enjoying anything at all.

“You once said we should be friends. Can we start being friends now?”

It was a sudden, impulsive suggestion.

Jeongseo had found comfort in being alone, but after becoming friends with Pyo Yoontae, coming to school became something to look forward to.

Maybe it would be the same for Hayan—at least, it would be better to have someone to talk to mouseher than being all alone.

However, Hayan’s black eyes were filled with suspicion as he stared at Jeongseo.

“What’s with the sudden change? You said I have a terrible personality and you don’t want to be friends.”

“That doesn’t matter now. Yoontae also has a horrible personality, but it’s nice to be with him.”

“…Most people would at least lie and say I have a good personality at times like this.”

“Lying is even worse!”

Hayan stared at Jeongseo, who spoke so naturally, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, then he slightly pursed his lips.

Although he didn’t seem particularly pleased, the tips of his ears had turned a deep red.

“…Do whatever you want. But if you get in the way of my studies, I’ll cut ties with you immediately.”

Jeongseo, looking delighted, nodded.

His brown ears perked up as well, and Hayan glanced at them.

“I’ve always wondered, why do you always keep your ears out? Can’t you tuck them in?”

Jeongseo murmured, “Ah,” and instead of answering, tucked in one of his ears.

Hayan’s eyes began to widen as he watched.

But as soon as Jeongseo tucked in one ear, the other one popped out.

“I can’t fully tuck them in yet. They always do this.”

As Jeongseo continued to alternate between tucking one ear in and the other one out, a stifled giggle eventually burst from his lips.

Hayan covered his mouth, trying not to laugh, but when he looked at Jeongseo’s still exposed ear, he finally let out a full-blown laugh.

Jeongseo had never seen Hayan laugh so hard before.

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot! This is hilarious!”

…Idiot? This time, it was Jeongseo who glared at Hayan.

“I’m telling you, I’ll be able to tuck them in completely soon!”

“I practice every night!”

Despite Jeongseo’s irritated shout, Hayan couldn’t stop laughing. He really didn’t have the best personality either.

It was a while before Hayan wiped his eyes and finally stopped laughing.

“Ah… I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”

But his voice, tinged with bitterness, seemed to dissolve into the air like a weak breeze.

°❀•°❀°•❀°

The heat that surged through his entire body was unbearable.

Pyo Yoontae grimaced as he swallowed both a suppressant and a sleeping pill.

He had taken some earlier that morning, but the effects had already worn off, and he was on the verge of losing control.

With a sluggish body, he barely managed to lie back down on his bed.

It wasn’t the rut itself that was unbearable—it was the suppressants that turned it into hell.

The twisting in his stomach and the feeling of something being blocked, choking him, were sensations Pyo Yoontae couldn’t stand.

As a dominant alpha with particularly potent pheromones, he had to take the strongest suppressants available.

As he stared blankly at the white ceiling, his mind wandered to the snow-covered mountains he had once seen.

All the landscapes looked the same, no matter how far he walked, and his footsteps seemed to circle back endlessly.

It was as if the mountains were telling his he would never escape.

He had climbed those snow-covered mountains alone as a child for no grand reason.

He just wanted to disappear to a place where no one could find him.

His maternal grandmother hated Pyo Yoontae.

No, he resented him.

After giving birth to his sister and suffering a miscarriage, his mother’s health rapidly deteriorated.

But his mother, forced by his father’s side of the family, had to go through with another pregnancy.

He gave birth to Pyo Yoontae, which only deepened his grandmother’s anger and hatred.

When Yoontae was born, his mother’s life was at risk, both during and after childbirth.

This fueled his grandmother’s resentment toward the family, and he included Yoontae in his anger.

Even though Pyo Yoontae had been too young to understand much of this, he had sensed his grandmother’s subtle yet unmistakable hostility.

His gaze, full of hatred, and his words and actions toward his were noticeably different from how he treated his sister.

Little Yoontae had noticed all of it.

One day, around the Lunar New Year, Yoontae’s mother took his children to his parents’ house, just like every year.

As usual, Yoontae tried to avoid his grandmother as much as possible.

That day, the entire family gathered to hold a ritual near the mountain for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

It was a ceremony they did every year, and after that, they would return home like nothing had happened.

Everything would have been normal if Yoontae hadn’t overheard his grandmother muttering under his breath as he watched his mother cough.

“If only that thing hadn’t been born, things wouldn’t be like this. It’s eating me up inside.”

Her quiet lament echoed through the still house, and despite the distance, Yoontae heard it clearly.

It wasn’t hard to guess who “that thing” referred to.

Yoontae already knew his grandmother didn’t like him, but hearing those words firsthand was a different matter.

The shock hit his hard.

He told his family he would wait in the car and walked away.

The ritual wasn’t going to end anytime soon, so no one would come looking for him.

For some reason, Yoontae didn’t want to be found.

Maybe it was stubbornness, but he climbed up the snow-covered mountain alone.

How long had it been?

By the time he realized he had gone too far, it was already too late to turn back.

‘I’m going to die here,’ he thought.

His grandmother hated him, so no one would look for him.

At just eight years old, Yoontae’s thoughts were simple, and despair came quickly.

He gave up on everything and crouched down beside a tree, crying.

The mature and composed child that everyone thought he was, broke down, weeping his heart out.

That’s when a white mouse appeared.

Or so he thought—it was actually a young person with snow-white hair, round ears, and a long tail.

The figure’s face was blurry, mostly hidden by bangs that almost covered his eyes, but the white hair, round ears, and long tail sparkled in the fading sunlight.

At least, that’s how eight-year-old Pyo Yoontae saw it.

The white-haired child shimmered, and Yoontae’s heart skipped a beat.

In that instant, Yoontae instinctively knew:

‘That’s mine.’ Though it was wrong to think of someone like that, there was no other way to describe it.

“…But you disappeared without even telling me your name. It pisses me off…”

A vague yet vivid memory from his childhood brought a dry chuckle to his lips.

Even now, he couldn’t help but feel angry.

Every day, he had walked that long mountain path, hoping to learn the white-haired child’s name.

But every time, the child, in his mouse form, would tilt his head and make a squeaking sound before darting off.

Nine times out of ten, he’d respond like that and run away.

The one time he didn’t, he just ran off without a word.

Yoontae clenched his teeth.

“I’ll definitely find you.”

He didn’t know how angry he was as a child when he didn’t chase after him, and he would just turn around and stare at him blankly.

Whenever he pretended to ignore his to catch him, something he wasn’t even good at, he seemed to get more excited. Maybe he thought of it as some kind of game.

Well… he eventually gave up and just played along anyway.

“I’m not sure if it was even a mouse…”

Pyo Yoontae recalled the memory, trying to picture the boy.

Usually, mouses don’t have fur on their tails, but this boy had white fur all the way to the tip.

He tried to think about it more, but it was then that the sleeping pill finally started to take effect, and his eyes began to close.

Bzzz… The phone on his bedside table vibrated.

When he checked the screen, a number appeared along with a [(OㅅO)] emoji.

It was Seo Jeongseo.

He should’ve answered, but Pyo Yoontae couldn’t fight the drowsiness overtaking him.

For some reason, the vibration from Jeongseo didn’t bother him, and Yoontae slowly drifted into sleep.

Emotions are truly unpredictable things.

Who would have thought that a fleeting feeling could color his whole heart?