* * *

Everything is a hassle.

Taeshin thought this as he returned from the hospital, led by his parents.

They said there was a problem because he still didn’t speak at the age of five.

He was told that his pheromone response system developed more slowly than others, resulting in lower empathy and delayed social development.

After numerous tests, experts concluded that Taeshin had a problem.

They said there was a “problem.”

Taeshin couldn’t understand why being different and not speaking was considered a problem. He didn’t see why he needed to be like everyone else.

While he didn’t understand, he did grasp that he was being told something was wrong with him. So, he needed to be fixed.

Thus, he obediently followed along.

If something is broken, it needs to be fixed. Though he knew this, the weekly “treatment” sessions were extremely annoying and boring.

“Try this,” “Try that,” “What about this?”

The words encouraging him to do something were loud, and he had no interest in the activities they suggested.

Annoying.

Uninteresting.

Taeshin found the time spent at the hospital and center completely unsatisfying.

His thoughts soon translated into his behavior.

He stopped participating in the treatment.

In response to Taeshin’s apathetic and dull reactions, a new therapist appeared.

“If you solve this puzzle, I’ll let you go home.”

“…….”

The therapy had just begun, but the therapist said he could go home if he solved the puzzle.

Though suspicious, Taeshin solved the puzzle, eager to end the session, and the therapist kept their promise.

It was unexpected.

When Taeshin had adapted to the new therapist and their rule, “Solve the puzzle, then go home,” he was given a difficult puzzle.

As he struggled with the unsolvable problem for a long time, the therapist sighed, saying they were going to be late leaving work.

While the therapist complained, Taeshin noticed a book lying open next to them.

The book contained the process for solving the puzzle.

After reading the book, Taeshin immediately understood the principle behind the puzzle that had eluded him.

Once he grasped the principle, solving the problem was surprisingly easy, shocking Taeshin.

He realized that if he had known about the book earlier, he could have found the answer much faster.

For the first time, Taeshin, who found everything in the world bothersome and uninteresting, took an interest in a book.

Taeshin, who found everything equally annoying, began reading books.

However, instead of accelerating his treatment, this change made him focus solely on one thing.

The treatment, interrupted by his lack of interest, was now sidelined by his newfound interest in books.

Taeshin merely started reading books.

He still found everything in the world bothersome, and when he wasn’t reading, he did nothing.

Those who tried to force him back into therapy by taking away his books eventually gave them back after spending the entire session unproductively.

Only then would Taeshin move, opening the book with both hands and reading.

“Born as an extreme Alpha, but it’s a waste to be labeled disabled.”

People whispered about Taeshin. Sometimes, they described him as autistic rather than disabled.

“A burden on Taesan,” “He’ll be a burden until he dies,” “Wouldn’t it be better to send him abroad?”

These were the words of those who praised the fair and clean Taeshin in front of his parents but gossiped when he was alone.

“Lazy brat. Is it so much trouble to say a word?”

Taeshin’s grandfather scolded him like this every time they met.

Unlike the experts who explained Taeshin’s unusual behavior as emotional stress or psychological pressure, Beomsik accurately understood the reason for Taeshin’s peculiar actions.

It was an intuition based on his long experience with many people.

“Stop worrying your parents and speak at the right time.”

Annoying. Taeshin ignored his grandfather’s nagging and continued reading.

Everyone said that his silence was a problem, but he couldn’t understand why he needed to speak.

Everything was provided before he needed it, and any inconvenience was removed before it became bothersome.

He had never lacked anything since birth, and now, having not spoken for so long, no one forced answers out of him.

Taeshin was lazy, as his grandfather said, and found everything in the world bothersome. He thought that speaking would lead to more annoying situations.

Taeshin didn’t care if people saw him as disabled or autistic as long as they didn’t bother him.

“Are you listening to me, you weirdo?”

Park Kangseop, lying on the sofa opposite Taeshin, who was reading a book, frowned and asked again.

Though he heard everything, Taeshin pretended not to and continued reading, causing Kangseop to get agitated, feeling ignored.

“There will be a lot of people here today, so no hitting, no breaking, and no beating!”

Today, a charity party was being held at their house. His parents had suggested that since there would be many guests and children his age, he might try socializing.

A charity party with lots of people.

Just hearing the words, Taeshin had no intention of getting involved in something so annoying, but he nodded vaguely. His mother, perhaps trying to encourage him, added that it would be fun.

“Alright, I’ll say it again!”

Like his mother had said, there seemed to be many children around his age, and Kangseop kept warning him for a long time, perhaps worried about what had happened a few years ago.

Kangseop was Taeshin’s cousin. A few years ago, Kangseop had come to visit with his aunt.

Taeshin found Kangseop, who insisted on playing with him, annoying and noisy.

So, to stop Kangseop from pestering him, Taeshin broke his arm. He had intended to prevent further annoyance, but it only caused more trouble.

Kangseop, with a broken arm, became twice as noisy, and his crying caused a commotion with his mother and aunt rushing over.

On the day Kangseop was taken away in an ambulance, Taeshin was severely scolded by his parents.

They told him not to use violence lightly.

The books said that one could use force if necessary to protect oneself, so Taeshin couldn’t understand why he was being scolded for breaking an arm.

Even now, he didn’t fully understand why he had been scolded, but he had learned something from the experience.

Excessive violence leads to troublesome situations. So, he figured he should only use as much force as wouldn’t alarm the adults.

“Anyway, I’ve warned you! Be careful!”

As Kangseop jumped off the sofa and left the room after his warning, Taeshin returned to his book.

Despite looking silly, Kangseop was quick-witted. Or perhaps he had developed some awareness.

“Hey! See my arm? Try hitting me! Go ahead, try hitting me again!”

Park Kangseop, who appeared with a cast on his arm, provoked him like that. Perhaps thinking he wouldn’t retaliate, Taeshin unhesitatingly hit the cast with a book.

Struck by the book, Park Kangseop fell to the floor. Thinking he wouldn’t hit back—Park Kangseop was both stupid and oblivious.

Park Kangseop hurriedly left, and Taeshin resumed reading his book. As long as guests didn’t bother him, it didn’t matter.

Despite Park Kangseop’s concerns and warnings, the charity party continued without anyone disturbing him.

The everyday peace that seemed like it would last all day was shattered in an instant when someone entered the room.

“Hello?”

The uninvited guest was a child.

Hearing there would be many children at the charity party, Taeshin assumed this was one of them and ignored the greeting, thinking the child would leave soon.

“…?”

As he read a line in a dramatic format, a scent wafted from somewhere.

The faint fragrance became more distinct as the presence at the door approached.

The scent, which he’d never smelled before, was ticklingly sweet and tangy.

Forgetting the book, Taeshin focused on the scent.

When he unconsciously turned his head, a child was sitting next to him.

“Hello?”

The child waved and greeted him. The ticklish and unfamiliar scent came from the child.

When the child made eye contact and greeted him, Taeshin felt the scent flood in, making his heart flutter as he couldn’t take his eyes off the child’s face.

Taeshin took in a breath as he traced the child’s features—round forehead peeking through the hair, large, shining eyes, plump cheeks twitching, and small, pursed lips.

The sweet and tangy scent tickled him so much that he had to grip his toes. The scent suited the child perfectly.

Taeshin’s heart raced so hard he wondered if he might be ill. Gripping the book tightly, he etched the child’s face and scent into his memory.

When the child’s gaze roamed the room, Taeshin felt an impulse to press his face into the child’s palm.

“We’re playing hide-and-seek outside. Do you want to join?”

The child, whose expressions changed every moment, asked with rolling eyes.

And for the first time, Taeshin felt curious about someone’s name.

‘What’s your name? How old are you? What do you like? Why do you smell so good?’

Questions that had always seemed annoying now surfaced for the child.

‘Who are you?’

After the charity party, when the child left holding hands and went home, Taeshin felt his chest tighten and his breath catch.

From that day on, he thought about the child all day, every day, with the scent lingering in his nose. Taeshin didn’t read a book in a long time.

No, he couldn’t read.

The words didn’t sink in, and his appetite vanished completely.

He wanted to see the child.

He wanted to touch and feel the child. Lost in helplessness, Taeshin thought of the child’s face, scent, and name.

The child’s name was “Moon Sunwoo,” whom he met at the charity party.

They were the same age and attended the same school, though assigned to different classes.

Recalling the few pieces of information, Taeshin thought, then let’s go to school. If he went to school, he could meet Sunwoo.

Taeshin immediately left home to find Sunwoo at school, not realizing the difference between taking a car and walking to school for a child.

As he retraced his steps to school, Taeshin realized he didn’t know the way.

Lost and wandering in an unfamiliar place, he ended up in a park where, miraculously, he met the child. He saw Sunwoo playing with other children.

“Young master, we found you.”

His joy was short-lived; before he could reach Sunwoo, he was caught.

The bodyguards, who came to find him after he disappeared from home, quickly subdued Taeshin, who resisted to get to Sunwoo, and took him home.

Back home after a short outing, his parents scolded him harshly.

His mother, deeply shaken, was too emotional to speak clearly and even shed tears.

As he was scolded and held in his tearful mother’s arms, Taeshin thought, I can’t do it on my own. Then I’ll have to change my approach.

“…School.”

“Taeshin?”

“Taeshin, what did you just say…?”

“…School… go…”

He had to go to school. Though it was a place filled with troublesome memories, thinking of Sunwoo being there made Taeshin suddenly want to go.

If he went to school, Sunwoo would be there. He could meet Sunwoo.

“I want to… go to school…”

The small voice he barely mustered came out awkwardly. His parents, stunned by Taeshin’s sudden words, held onto him and continued speaking.

Ignoring their words, Taeshin thought about Sunwoo.

He wanted to go to school soon. He wanted to see Sunwoo.

Speaking was indeed a bothersome task. Once he started, they wanted him to say more.

Besides, what Taeshin wanted was to go to school, but his parents took him to hospitals and centers first.

He could only attend school much later.

After a long wait, when Taeshin finally went to school, he immediately sought out Sunwoo.

He never forgot the face—eyes shining like stars, a bright nose, and a small mouth that smiled.

The sweet and tangy scent that always accompanied thoughts of Sunwoo lingered in his nose.

As he entered the classroom hallway, the scent, like a mirage, grew stronger, confirming Sunwoo’s presence. In the middle of the hallway, Sunwoo was sitting by the window, chatting with friends.

“Uh?”

Seeing Taeshin, Sunwoo widened his eyes, blinking a few times before waving.

“Hello. Do you go to our school?”

Taeshin opened his mouth, then closed it. He still couldn’t speak well. His vocal cords, long unused, produced awkward and poor sounds.

Taeshin didn’t want Sunwoo to hear his voice like this. So he awkwardly raised his hand and waved.

Hello, hello.

He had something to do now.

* * *