The quiet years were almost peaceful.

After fleeing to another country, Yumi and Evan had settled in a secluded place, far from the shadows of the past. The house they made was simple, hidden, and surrounded by silence — the kind that heals.

Noa had woken up long ago… but he hadn’t truly come back.

Though conscious, he rarely spoke. His gaze often drifted to empty corners. The trauma lived behind his eyes like an echo. Still, Yumi and Evan took care of him with unwavering devotion — as if watching over something fragile and irreplaceable.

Months passed.

And then, amidst the winter rains, Noa gave birth to a child — a beautiful, delicate baby boy.

He was small, warm, and quiet… as if carrying both his parents' pain and their hope.

They named him Leo.

Yumi and Evan loved Leo deeply. The child was like sunlight breaking through after a long, gray storm. And slowly, Noa began to improve — at least physically. He smiled sometimes. Ate regularly. But the silence between him and the world remained untouched.

Years flew by.

Leo grew fast. He had curious eyes, soft brown hair, and a quiet charm. Noa watched him grow with gentle pride — even if he couldn’t always hold him close. Yumi became the child's comfort. Evan, his quiet strength.

By the time Leo reached middle school, he had become a calm, observant boy with a thoughtful demeanor. Like all students his age, he had to undergo the mandatory secondary gender identification test — a medical protocol regulated by the government. Most children manifested their secondary gender around age 12 or 13, and early identification helped prevent... incidents.

For most kids, the results arrived quickly — some were happy, others disappointed, but all learned to accept what they were born with.

Except Leo.

Weeks passed, but his report never came.

One afternoon, the school doctor called Leo into her office. With a strange tone, she requested that he bring one of his guardians the next day.

Leo, confused but obedient, brought Yumi.

Inside the infirmary, Yumi sat across from the doctor while Leo waited outside, unaware of the storm building behind the closed door.

The doctor’s voice was steady but low.

“We ran multiple tests to be sure. Leo is… genetically male, but he’s presenting as a Dominant Omega.”

Yumi blinked — unsure she’d heard correctly.

“That’s incredibly rare,” the doctor continued. “Omegas are mostly female, and even among male Omegas, dominant ones are almost never seen. But that’s not all.”

The doctor opened a file and hesitated before speaking again.

“There’s something else... Leo doesn’t seem to respond to Alpha pheromones. A student in his class recently manifested as an Alpha, but Leo didn’t react at all. Not even biologically.”

Yumi’s brows furrowed.

“It’s as if… his body doesn’t recognize their presence.”

“And… one last thing.”

The doctor’s voice dropped further, careful, cautious.

“Leo’s hormonal levels are unstable. His hormonal patterns are... unusual. If left unchecked, this might affect his health in the future. He may need long-term monitoring — possibly advanced care.”

She gently slid the file forward.

“I strongly recommend you consult a specialist. Someone from a top genetic-endocrine research facility. This is… beyond school medicine.”

For a long moment, Yumi said nothing.

Then, slowly, she closed the file.

Her voice was calm but cold.

“Don’t speak of this to anyone.”

The doctor nodded. “Of course. It’s confidential.”

Yumi rose from the chair, thanked her politely, and stepped outside.

Leo stood waiting just outside the door, his curious eyes watching her face.

She didn’t say a word.

She simply held out her hand.

Leo placed his hand in hers without question — and together, they walked away.