dreams spun in berries & fluff

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    Chapter 10

    Sanhong couldn’t bring himself to say that the man had withdrawn his intent to kill. He had no confidence to bring it up and then endure Huigang’s scolding. Just then, someone pounded roughly on the door. It sounded like a kick.

    “A customer?”

    “No. It’s Iori.”

    Saying it was obvious without looking, Huigang yanked open the locked door.

    “I told you not to kick the door.”

    “You only call me when you need me. You lowlifes.”

    The man who filled the entryway just by existing was named Iori.

    The eldest Alpha son of a yakuza family, he’d faked a ritual suicide to avoid inheriting the line, fled, and had been living in Korea for years now.

    The three had first met after Sanhong manifested as an Omega, and in a time long if long, short if short, they had become rapidly close.

    “Pretty boy. Don’t get mad. Treat Sanhong.”

    “Don’t call me that.”

    “Why so touchy again.”

    Huigang always teased Iori’s handsome face that way. Hearing the two bicker while lying on his side, Sanhong let out a small laugh.

    “What’re you laughing at. You like it? Idiot.”

    “Sorry.”

    “What for? Don’t apologize.”

    Iori picked a fight with him for no reason. Then seeing his slightly wrecked face, his expression turned on a dime.

    “How many times have I told you—tell them not to touch the face.”

    “I couldn’t help it.”

    “Your face is national property. Is that concept so damn hard?”

    With Iori’s fluent Korean, there was no winning an argument. He just smiled. If he protested here, only he would get chewed out. Then, as if remembering something, Iori lowered his voice and warned him.

    “I checked immigration earlier. That bastard entered.”

    “Who?”

    “Seo Kang-jo.”

    “Ah.”

    He was the one with a chokehold on Horangyong-dong. A gangster, but currently an active city councilman as well.

    “Say that again and I’ll punt your balls. Castrate, got it.”

    “What did he say?”

    “He asked you to have his baby.”

    At Iori’s words, Huigang shot to his feet and began cursing a blue streak. Tear him limb from limb, bash his skull in—vile words scattered in the air. Lulled by the racket like a lullaby, Sanhong couldn’t fight the drooping of his lids and fell asleep.

    Seeing him asleep at last, Huigang closed his mouth. Iori rolled up the clothes of the sleeping man and clicked his tongue as he checked his side.

    “It’s not too bad. Spray this. Tell him to use it consistently.”

    Setting a spray-on pain reliever down, Iori instructed Huigang.

    “What. That’s the whole exam? Should’ve gone to the corner pharmacy.”

    “Then why didn’t you. I shook those bastards off and dragged myself here.”

    “Oh, those annoying gangsters? So what. You shook them and came, didn’t you.”

    And just like that, the two started squabbling without rest again. In the end, Iori wrapped the bandage tightly around his side by force.

    “See. Now it feels like treatment.”

    “Shut up. This doesn’t even need a bandage. Know you’re wasting manpower?”

    Standing up, Iori flipped him the finger and vanished.

    It was a drizzly weekday evening.

    To fill a peckish stomach, he headed to a convenience store a little ways from the pawnshop. Today again, he roamed the neighborhood in slippers. Pushing open the door and stepping inside, the clerk sat at the counter glued to his phone.

    He was new from a few months back; seeing him last longer than expected felt admirable.

    “You don’t smoke?”

    “Yeah. Quit.”

    “Hyung, your toes are really white.”

    “Ah.”

    There was no malice in the clerk. Just pure curiosity. Starting with, isn’t it uncomfortable always wearing slippers, to he was a Beta but wasn’t it hard being an Omega, to be careful because the neighborhood was rough—he nagged him in reverse.

    “You know I’m an adult, right? That’s what I should be saying to you.”

    “I know. It’s just
 I still can’t believe it. Are you really thirty-three?”

    I’ve got two kids.

    He wanted to say it, but couldn’t bring himself to, so he picked up two cup noodles and two hot bars. The clerk even had a problem with that.

    “If you buy the ones next to those, you get one more.”

    “Really?”

    “Yes. Please wait here a second. I’ll choose for you.”

    Leaving the counter, the clerk put back what he’d picked and carefully chose others. He watched the boy’s back with a quiet smile.

    “This is a brand-new flavor that came in yesterday. It’s really good.”

    “Really?”

    “Yes. Please stop buying the bland ones. You really can’t pick food, you know that?”

    “Okay. Then pick for me from now on.”

    “

”

    When he asked with a smile, the clerk ducked his head, shy.

    “
Then please leave it to me.”

    He was so cute. Unlike kids these days, he seemed pure.

    “Isn’t the night shift scary?”

    “Sometimes I worry, what if a ghost shows up, but in the end, people are the scariest.”

    “True. Scariest of all.”

    “My place is nearby anyway. I live alone. But the thugs in this neighborhood are really trash. They pick a fight if you so much as make eye contact. The other day, some Alpha punk rode me so hard for being a Beta.”

    Having dropped by for the first time in a while, he traded a few words and listened calmly to the clerk’s excited chatter.

    “Hyun-jae, be careful at night.”

    “Ah. Yes. But you know my name?”

    “Yeah. You told me.”

    “Ah
.”

    The clerk’s name was Cheon Hyun-jae.

    Realizing he’d given his name without thinking, Hyun-jae flushed.

    “See you next time then.”

    “Ah, yes. Get home safe.”

    He came out with a bag holding three cup noodles the clerk had chosen and two hot bars. The cup noodles were two-plus-one, the hot bars one-plus-one, so he ended up with a different number than he’d planned.

    Dragging his slippers through the dim alley, he halted again.

    “Sanhong?”

    “Oh! It’s Sanhong!”

    “Good evening.”

    They were workers from a nearby site, in their work clothes.

    Each looked to have had a drink; faces were flushed. Smoking in clusters, they broke into broad smiles on seeing him.

    They were dirty from work, but as he’d learned through experience, they weren’t bad people. Just rough around the edges; they hadn’t ever harmed him. And maybe because they were all Betas, they had no particular interest in his designation.

    Though thinking of the ones who’d helped him through the last heat cycle being Betas too, a Beta’s a Beta in many shades.

    “Where you headed!”

    “Just came from the convenience store.”

    He shook the bag in his hand. They said a person couldn’t live on that alone and dug in their wallets, offering to buy him meat.

    Knowing their persistence, he nodded obediently and said, “Yes.”

    “Right! When adults offer to treat, answer with a firm yes!”

    “Whose kid is this? Doesn’t even look of age.”

    A man with a thicker accent stared him down. He was a new face in the neighborhood, but he bowed and greeted him out of courtesy.

    “Hello.”

    “Ah! First time seeing you, huh? Our Sanhong’s well past thirty!”

    “What? For real?”

    “Looks like a kid, right?”

    “Yeah. Pretty face.”

    Pride overflowed on the workers’ faces as they bragged on his looks.

    They led him to a nearby barbecue joint. And there was another reason they liked him even more.

    “Whoa-hah! What ratio is this?”

    “It tastes best this way.”

    Saying the taste of soju-beer changes with ratio, he handed each a glass. They emptied them with satisfied faces. He downed his too, neat.

    As meat and banchan were set, the men started grilling, and he stood to head to the self-serve station. Tearing a large square of foil, he put in garlic, onion, and cheese tteok, then wrapped it tight so nothing would leak. Returning with the bundle, the man at the grill lifted the grate slightly with tongs so he could slide it underneath.

    Like everyone had a role, jobs were divvied up, and they waited for the meat to cook.

    Pork belly is king, they said, and ordered six portions. The cooked slices piled neatly on his plate.

    “You hung out with Mr. Bang the other day, didn’t you?”

    “Ah. Yes. A few days ago.”

    “Played here” meant he’d spent a heat cycle together. Even talking around it like this was their way; if they’d asked bluntly, he wouldn’t have minded answering either.

    “That bastard lost a finger this morning.”

    “Ah. At the gambling den?”

    “Right. Figured he’d lose a finger someday.”

    “Why’d they take it? He had some skills, didn’t he.”

    “Don’t even start. He looked away for a second mid-hand and thought the other guy was bottom-decking—so he ratted straight to ‘Awl.’”

    “If he told Awl directly, no excuse would’ve saved him, huh?”

    Footnotes:

      1. “Two-plus-one/one-plus-one”: Common Korean convenience-store promos where buying two items gets one free (2+1) or buy-one-get-one (1+1).

      2. “Awl” (Songgok): A nickname implying a ruthless enforcer; in gambling-den justice, accusations like “bottom-decking” can trigger immediate extrajudicial punishment, such as finger-cutting, echoing underworld codes.

    Note