Chapter 1: The Scholarship Letter

It was a late autumn afternoon when the letter came. The sun had already dipped behind the hills of Daesan Town, casting the sky in a watercolor wash of pale orange and purple. Taehyung sat at the low dining table, sorting through practice test papers. The room smelled faintly of kimchi stew and laundry detergent—the comforting scent of a small, overworked home.

The heater groaned in the corner, struggling to warm the drafty apartment. His mother was in the kitchen, humming quietly, her hands worn red from washing dishes. His father wouldn’t be back until after midnight. Two jobs, no holidays.

Taehyung barely looked up when the knock came at the door.

“Could you get that, sweetheart?” his mother called over her shoulder.

Taehyung nodded, pushing aside his papers. The front door stuck slightly in the cold, and when he yanked it open, he found no one there. Just a single, thick envelope on the ground, crisp and white, with gold-embossed letters.

Sohae Elite Academy – Admissions Office

His fingers froze.

Time stilled around him.

He bent down slowly, reverently, as if touching a sacred relic. His heart began to pound—a tight, painful rhythm against his ribs. It was too heavy for a rejection. Far too heavy.

He shut the door behind him, eyes fixed on the envelope.

His mother turned at the sound of his shuffling steps, drying her hands on her apron. “Who was it?”

He couldn’t speak. He held up the envelope instead, and the moment her eyes caught the crest stamped on the wax seal, she gasped.

“Oh my God.”

Neither of them moved. For a few seconds, the kitchen fell utterly silent, filled only by the hum of the heater and the faint clatter of utensils from the neighbor’s window.

“Open it,” she whispered.

Taehyung sat down slowly. His hands trembled as he peeled the wax seal, careful not to tear the crest. Inside was a letter—no, three papers. One was cream-colored, another pure white, and the third was a metallic print with a golden signature.

He read aloud, his voice barely above a whisper.

> “Dear Mr. Kim Taehyung,

We are pleased to inform you that based on your exemplary entrance scores and academic record, you have been selected to receive the Sohae Academic Excellence Scholarship, granting you full tuition, housing, and academic support for your duration at Sohae Elite Academy…”

His voice cracked.

“…beginning this winter term.”

His mother let out a choked sob and dropped to her knees beside him, covering her mouth with both hands. Her shoulders shook.

He stared at the page.

It didn’t feel real.

For a long time, all they could do was cry.

**

Taehyung didn’t come from wealth. He came from sacrifice.

His mother used to be a literature teacher. His father, a driver for a logistics company. After the economy crashed three years ago, they lost most of their income and moved into a smaller place outside the city. But they never stopped supporting his studies. Every extra won went to his prep books. Every hour of free time was spent tutoring him, coaching him, cheering him on.

He didn’t have name-brand clothes or the latest scent filters. He didn’t go to a top private school. But he had something sharper.

He had hunger.

He studied day and night, memorizing formulas in the dark, solving problems on old notebooks passed down from local tutors. He spent summers at the local library while other Omegas in his neighborhood prepped for their first heat cycles.

He postponed his own suppressant schedule to focus on exams.

He chose not to be vulnerable.

Not yet.

**

When the term started, the academy sent a transport shuttle to pick up the new students. Most came in black cars and armored sedans, escorted by family retainers and security bots. Taehyung arrived with his mother at the station, suitcase in hand, wearing a freshly ironed secondhand uniform. The fabric was slightly faded at the collar, but she’d stitched the seams perfectly. She pressed his scent-neutral scarf into his hands and kissed his forehead.

“Don’t let them see you cry,” she whispered. “Even if it hurts.”

Taehyung nodded, trying to be brave.

He didn’t know how long the train ride was. He barely looked out the window. His heart was too loud, too fast. His eyes drifted across the other students—polished, confident alphas and betas, each dressed in immaculate uniforms, eyes bored or haughty.

He didn’t fit.

Not here.

Not yet.

**

The school loomed like a cathedral when he finally arrived.

Sohae Elite Academy was carved into the cliffs overlooking a distant, icy shoreline. The buildings were gothic and massive, wrapped in spiraling black glass and ancient stone. Towers rose into the clouds. The flag of the academy fluttered above the entrance—deep blue silk with a golden wolf in the center, its head raised toward the moon.

It looked like a place built for monsters.

Taehyung followed the flow of students inside. His room assignment had already been messaged to his phone. Dorm 4C, Omega Wing.

As he passed through the main gates, he heard the whispers start.

“Who’s that?”

“New Omega?”

“Doesn’t even have a scent collar…”

He kept his head down.

Eyes on the floor. Shoulders hunched.

No one greeted him. No one offered help.

By the time he found his room, his palms were damp, his jaw sore from clenching. The dorm room was small but clean, with pale gray walls and a steel-framed bed. He sat on the edge, staring at the folded school schedule on the desk.

Every day was packed—lectures, labs, etiquette classes, dominance theory.

He exhaled.

He would survive this.

He had to.

**

That night, Taehyung unpacked quietly, hanging his spare shirt in the closet and setting up his books in the tiny shelf above the desk. He stuck a photo of his parents—worn and slightly faded—on the wall beside his bed.

The room smelled like nothing.

No scent masks, no perfumes, no suppression.

Just cold, clean air.

And it was lonely.

But he whispered to himself before sleep took him:

> “I am here. I earned this. They can’t take that away.”

He believed it.

Until he met Jeon Jungkook.

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