Chapter 2: A World Not Meant for Me

The uniform felt heavier on his shoulders that morning.

Taehyung stood in front of the full-length mirror attached to his dormitory closet, brushing down the fabric of his blazer with careful hands. It was perfectly clean. His mother had pressed every seam. The Omega badge gleamed silver against the navy lapel, polished so hard the metal glinted in the rising sun.

Still, it didn’t feel like it belonged to him.

The room behind him was silent. No roommate yet. Most of the elite Omegas at Sohae had private rooms—perks of wealth and bloodlines. Taehyung had one too, not by privilege, but by design. The school didn’t want a scholarship case disrupting its social hierarchy.

He adjusted the fit of his scarf—just loose enough to seem casual, just tight enough to cover his gland—and slung his old canvas bag over his shoulder. The others would have leather satchels, monogrammed backpacks, scent-coded tablets.

But this was all he had.

He stepped into the hallway.

And the silence shattered.

Sohae Elite Academy was a universe of its own.

Glistening black marble floors, glass-paneled walls, hallways so wide they echoed with the faintest step. Every student walked like they owned the earth beneath them—shoulders straight, scent masks glimmering like jewels against their throats. Alphas strutted in groups, laughing loud and without restraint. Betas walked with careful grace. The few Omegas that passed by carried themselves like royalty—well-groomed, sweetly perfumed, groomed to perfection since birth.

And then there was Taehyung.

His soft brown eyes scanned the corridors, trying not to look too long at any one person, trying to remember directions. Classroom 3A. Lecture Hall C. Omega Etiquette Orientation.

He kept to the edge of the crowd.

Whispers followed him.

“That’s the scholarship one, right?”

“Kim… Tae-something?”

“Why isn’t he wearing a scent collar?”

“He doesn’t smell like anything…”

“Must be masking naturally. Weird.”

He kept walking, ignoring them. Or trying to.

Their voices slid into his bones like splinters. He’d expected it. Prepared for it. But knowing a thing was coming never made it easier to endure.

He found his first class—Introductory Ethics and Power—minutes before the bell. The lecture hall was vast, sleek, and tiered like an amphitheater. Hundreds of students were already seated, murmuring, checking their schedules, whispering.

All the seats in the center were filled.

He found an empty one at the far left, second-to-last row. He sat, back straight, eyes down, and pulled out his notebook. The cover was fraying at the edges, corners bent. But inside, the pages were clean.

He was halfway through copying down the course code from the screen when the temperature in the room shifted.

A low hush rolled through the hall like a pulse.

And then—footsteps.

Heavy. Confident. Laced with something electric.

Taehyung looked up.

Jeon Jungkook.

He entered like a shadow unfolding in daylight—six feet of polished arrogance, black hair swept back with casual perfection, broad shoulders filling out his elite Alpha blazer. His scent slipped through the air—rich, spicy, dangerously sharp, like smoke and wild musk. Taehyung caught it even from where he sat.

The Alpha’s presence was... overbearing.

Beautiful, yes. Charismatic.

But terrifying.

He didn’t walk alone. Two other Alpha students flanked him, both laughing at something Jungkook muttered under his breath. People made way for them like a tide parting. And when Jungkook reached the middle of the room, he stopped, glanced up toward the back rows—

And locked eyes with Taehyung.

Time cracked.

For a moment, it was just the two of them.

Taehyung’s breath stuttered. His fingers clenched around his pen. Jungkook’s expression didn’t change. But his eyes—dark, unreadable—dragged over Taehyung like they were stripping him down to his soul.

Then he turned away and took his seat in the center.

A ripple of whispers broke through the spell.

“Why was he staring at him?”

“Did Jungkook just—”

“No way he cares about some no-name Omega…”

Taehyung felt his heartbeat in his throat.

He lowered his head and didn’t look up again until the lecture started.

The first week blurred.

Taehyung made no friends. He barely spoke. Most Omegas ignored him, unwilling to associate with someone so beneath their social rank. Alphas sneered at him. Betas watched him like he was a curiosity—something strange behind glass.

Still, he excelled.

Every test, every reading, every lab—they were the only places he felt safe. Numbers didn’t care where he came from. Words didn’t judge his scent. Equations didn’t demand he bare his throat or hide his trembling hands.

He submitted every assignment early. Spent every lunch alone under the north courtyard’s ivy-covered arches. The greenhouse, he discovered, was always warm. He sat there often, beneath the glass roof, breathing in the scent of lilacs and dirt, pretending for a little while that he belonged.

He didn’t notice how often he was being watched.

Jungkook had noticed him on the first day. Not because he was interested—no, never that.

At first, it was irritation.

Why did that no-name Omega feel so... calm?

He should’ve looked anxious. Fragile. Weak. Omegas like that weren’t meant to survive Sohae, let alone top their classes.

But Taehyung walked like a ghost with purpose.

Then came the rankings.

Jungkook sat in the common room that Thursday, flipping casually through the digital board as it updated.

> 1. Kim Taehyung – 99.2%

Jeon Jungkook – 98.9%

The room went still.

Jungkook’s smile faltered for the first time in months.