Chapter Text
The Night Yin Turned 18 - The Pain of Rejection.
Midnight came quietly.
Yin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. His birthday had never been a big deal, just a simple dinner with his parents and older brother, Jaii. They had wished him well, smiled, and gone to bed early.
He wasn’t expecting anything special. Just another year.
Then—
Agony.
It struck like a blade to the chest.
A burning, suffocating pain exploded in his heart, sending his body into violent convulsions. Yin’s breath hitched, his lungs locking as if something was crushing them from the inside.
He clawed at his shirt, desperate to breathe, desperate for the pain to stop.
But it didn’t.
It only got worse.
It felt like fire was carving itself into his skin, twisting through his ribs, searing his heart. His hands trembled violently as he tried to undo the buttons of his shirt, his vision blurred with pain and shock.
His fingers finally reached his chest—
And then he saw it.
A mark.
Right over his heart.
A soulmate mark.
A delicate, intricate pattern—the unmistakable proof of a destined connection.
His breath shuddered, chest rising and falling rapidly. He had always wondered what his soulmate mark would look like. He had imagined this moment once or twice, wondering how it would feel to know someone out there was meant to be with him.
But—why did it feel like he was dying?
Then it hit him.
Rejection.
Tonight, somewhere out there, his soulmate had looked at their own mark and rejected him.
Yin’s nails dug into his palm, his lips parting in a silent gasp.
He had heard about this before. It didn’t happen often, but when a person rejected their soulmate, the other would feel an excruciating pain for hours.
A pain so intense, so consuming, it was said to be worse than anything else.
He pressed his forehead against his pillow, his body curling in on itself. Sweat clung to his skin, his breathing uneven.
It felt unfair.
They didn’t even know him.
And yet—they had already decided they didn’t want him.
Yin squeezed his eyes shut, a tremor running through his body as another wave of pain ripped through his heart. He bit down on his lip, hard enough to taste blood. Crying wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t stop the pain.
So he endured it. Alone.
The pain lasted for hours.
By the time it faded, Yin lay exhausted, staring blankly at the ceiling. The room was silent, except for the faint sound of his own breath.
His hand drifted over his chest, pressing lightly against the mark. It was still there. Permanent. A reminder.
Slowly, he forced a smile.
"It’s okay," he whispered hoarsely, though no one could hear him.
"Even if they don’t want me… I’ll be fine."
He buttoned his shirt back up, covering the mark. From this moment on, no one would ever see it.
Especially not his soulmate.
Because Yin had already decided—if they didn’t want him, he wouldn’t force them to.
Morning – A Smile That Conceals Everything
Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the dining table. The scent of freshly made porridge and eggs filled the air as Yin took his usual seat. His mother smiled at him, placing a warm bowl in front of him.
“Happy birthday again, my love,” she said, ruffling his hair.
Yin grinned, letting out a small laugh. “Thanks, Mom.”
Jaii, his older brother, sipped his coffee, eyeing him curiously. “So?”
Yin raised a brow. “So what?”
His mother sat down beside him, eyes filled with anticipation. “Your soulmate mark, of course! Did it appear?”
For a split second, the pain from last night flashed in his mind.
The breathless gasps.
The silent agony.
The rejection.
But Yin didn’t let it show.
Instead, he smiled easily, chuckling. “Nope. Nothing.” He lifted his sleeves, showing his bare wrists. “Guess I wasn’t meant to have one.”
His mother’s expression softened, a hint of disappointment flashing across her face, but she quickly masked it with warmth. “That’s okay, sweetheart. Some people aren’t gifted with a soulmate mark.”
Jaii hummed, nodding in agreement. “Even if you had one, it’s not like it guarantees anything. Some people meet their soulmate and fall in love immediately. Some just become friends. Some… never even meet at all.”
His father, who had been silently reading the newspaper, spoke up. “It’s luck, really. Fate gives you a mark, but it doesn’t control your choices.” He glanced at Jaii. “Like you. You were lucky you met your soulmate right away.”
Jaii smiled at his wife’s name being mentioned, looking down at his own wrist, where his soulmate mark had been since he was 18. “Yeah, I met her a year later, and we got married. But not everyone gets that lucky.”
His mother turned back to Yin, stroking his hand gently. “But you’ll be okay, right?”
Yin laughed, playfully scooping a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. “Of course, Mom. It’s not like I was expecting anything. I’m fine as I am.”
He smiled.
He laughed.
He pretended nothing was wrong.
Because no one knew the truth.
No one knew that somewhere out there, his soulmate had already rejected him.
And what Yin didn’t realize—what no one realized—was that this wasn’t the end.
It was only the beginning.
Because as long as his soulmate continued rejecting him, he would experience that same unbearable pain… again and again.
Once a month.
Every month.
For the rest of his life.
Learning to Live with Pain – Yin’s Silent Struggle
Yin had always been good at adapting.
He learned quickly, observed quietly, and adjusted to situations without causing trouble. It was just how he was.
So when the pain came back exactly one month later—just as intense, just as unbearable—he didn’t panic.
He endured.
The first time had caught him off guard. But now, he was prepared.
Yin bit down on his blanket, muffling his ragged breaths as his body curled inward, shaking from the sheer force of the agony.
It was the same—a burning, twisting, suffocating pain that wrapped around his heart, tearing through his chest like an invisible fire.
His fingers dug into the bedsheets, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.
But he didn’t scream.
He didn’t cry.
Because this time, he understood.
Somewhere out there, his soulmate had actively rejected him again.
And that was okay.
They had their own reasons.
He didn’t hate them for it.
Instead, as he lay there, his body drenched in sweat, his breathing uneven, he closed his eyes and prayed.
"Please… be happy."
"Please be healthy."
"Even if you don’t want me… please, don’t suffer like this."
Because Yin knew.
He knew how unbearable the pain was.
He knew that if he wished for his soulmate to feel the same pain—if he wanted them to suffer like him—then they would.
It would be as simple as that.
A soulmate bond wasn’t one-sided.
If he resented them, they would feel it. If he wished pain upon them, they would experience it.
And Yin didn’t want that.
He never would.
Because love—even one-sided love—shouldn’t be about hurting someone.
Even if his soulmate would never love him.
Even if they would never want him.
Yin still wanted them to be okay.
Hiding the Pain – The Art of Pretending
The days passed. The months slipped by.
And Yin mastered the art of hiding everything.
His smiles never faltered.
His laughter never wavered.
His voice never cracked.
Every morning, he woke up, ate breakfast with his family, went to school, studied hard, and lived as if nothing was wrong.
No one noticed how his hands trembled slightly every time the pain struck at night.
No one saw how he clenched his fists under the table to stop them from shaking.
No one heard the way his breathing would falter whenever someone mentioned soulmates.
No one knew.
And that was exactly how Yin wanted it to be.
He convinced himself that he was fine.
And for the most part, he was.
Because the pain was only temporary.
A few unbearable hours once a month.
That was all.
It was manageable.
It had to be.
He refused to let it define him.
He refused to let it make him bitter.
Instead, he focused on being a good person.
If he couldn’t have love, then he would at least make sure he gave it to others.
He helped his friends with their studies.
He spent time with his family.
He made people laugh whenever he could.
Because if he wasn’t meant to be loved…
Then at the very least, he would be kind.
He would wish happiness upon others.
Even upon the soulmate who had rejected him.
And for years, this was enough.
Or at least, he convinced himself that it was.
The Unavoidable Fate – Meeting His Soulmate
Yin turned 22.
By then, the pain was nothing more than routine.
He had graduated, started working as a sound engineer, and built a life that was steady, predictable, and free of unnecessary complications.
And then—one fateful day—he met War.
A meeting that would change everything.
A meeting that would unravel the years of carefully built walls.
A meeting that would force Yin to confront the one thing he had spent his whole life running from.
Because the moment Yin laid eyes on War’s wrist—
The moment he saw the soulmate mark War had openly rejected years ago—
Yin had heard of War before—his reputation in the industry was strong, known for his perfectionism and ability to bring grand concepts to life. But nothing had prepared Yin for the moment he saw him in person.
War was sharp, confident, and effortlessly charismatic. But Yin’s focus wasn’t on any of that. His gaze landed on War’s wrist.
A soulmark.
The same mark that Yin had hidden on his own body since he turned 18.
His breath caught in his throat. War was his soulmate.
For a moment, the room around him blurred. His mind raced back to that painful night four years ago—the unbearable agony that struck him at midnight, the suffering that lasted for hours. He had never understood why it happened so suddenly.
But now, looking at War, he knew.
War had rejected his soulmate.
And the worst part? He probably didn’t even know it had been Yin.
Yin swallowed the lump in his throat and forced his expression to remain neutral. He had gotten so good at hiding emotions—he wouldn’t break now.
Then, as if fate wanted to twist the knife deeper, War chuckled lightly, adjusting the sleeve of his jacket to cover his mark.
"I don’t believe in soulmates," he said casually, speaking to a colleague. "Just because someone’s born with a matching mark doesn’t mean I have to love them. I’d rather choose love myself."
Yin’s fingers clenched under the table, nails pressing into his palm.
He had already known War had rejected his soulmate. But hearing it again, directly from War’s lips, still hurt.
So, Yin did the only thing he could do. He smiled.
He acted like nothing was wrong, like War’s words didn’t cut into him. If War didn’t want a soulmate, then Yin would never force himself to be one.
But fate wasn’t done playing with them yet.
He knew.
War was his soulmate.
And the worst part?
War had no idea.
The Meeting – A Conversation Over Lunch
Yin sat in silence.
His heart pounded painfully in his chest, but his face remained unreadable.
Across the table, War laughed at something Bonz said, his sleeve pushed up just enough to reveal the mark on his inner wrist.
The mark that matched the one over Yin’s heart.
Yin didn’t react. He simply looked away, focusing on the food in front of him, his fingers gripping his chopsticks a little tighter.
They had invited him to lunch—War, Prom, Bonz, and a few other crew members.
Bonz, the scriptwriter, was also new to the team. He had the same height and hairstyle as Yin, leading to occasional confusion. People joked that they looked like twins.
But their personalities couldn’t be more different.
Bonz was warm, charismatic, and always smiling. Yin, on the other hand, had a cold, intimidating presence. His sharp eyes and expressionless face made him appear distant—unapproachable.
Yet when he smiled, the effect was immediate.
People melted.
It was no wonder Bonz had already noticed.
Yin felt Bonz’s gaze shift towards War’s wrist.
Then, as if prompted by fate itself, Prom spoke.
“You keep staring at War’s wrist, Bonz.” Prom smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “Thinking about soulmates?”
Bonz let out a chuckle, lifting his own wrist.
“My own soulmate mark is here,” Bonz said, pointing to the faded mark on his arm. “Met my soulmate when I was nineteen. We didn’t work out, but we stayed friends.”
Prom grinned and rolled up his sleeve, showing his own mark.
“Mine’s on my shoulder. I haven’t met them yet,” Prom said, shrugging.
Then, Bonz turned to Yin.
“What about you, Yin? You got a soulmate?”
Yin stilled.
For a second, he didn’t move, his gaze fixed on his plate. Then, with practiced ease, he lifted his drink to his lips and took a slow sip.
He set the glass down before replying, voice calm and nonchalant.
“Never met them.”
It wasn’t a lie.
He had met War.
But War had never met him as his soulmate.
Bonz hummed, not pressing further.
The conversation naturally drifted back to War, whose soulmate mark had always been a subject of interest.
“I don’t hate the idea of soulmates,” War admitted, leaning back in his chair. “But I hate the idea of falling in love just because of fate. I want to choose for myself. I don’t want my life dictated by something I didn’t ask for.”
Yin listened quietly.
He already knew War’s stance.
But hearing it again—hearing it directly from War’s lips—made his chest feel hollow.
Bonz sighed dramatically. “You better hope your soulmate isn’t suffering somewhere because of you.”
War exhaled, his expression unreadable.
“If my soulmate is in pain because of me, I’m sorry for them,” War said simply. “But there’s nothing I can do about it unless I go against what I want.”
Yin’s fingers curled slightly under the table.
You could choose them.
You could love them.
But he said nothing.
Instead, he lifted his gaze and spoke calmly, his voice steady.
“Maybe you should hide your soulmate mark,” Yin suggested. “In case they see it and realize you’re their soulmate.”
War shook his head.
“I don’t want to hide it,” War said. “If they see it, they deserve to know the truth. I won’t change my mind, but I won’t lie about it either.”
Yin nodded, understanding.
Even if that truth crushed someone completely.
“That makes sense,” Yin said gently. “I hope… whatever happens, you and your soulmate will find happiness, no matter the outcome.”
War looked at him, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Thanks.”
Yin gave a faint nod and returned to his food.
Bonz let out a laugh, nudging Prom. “Man, Yin’s a softie. Who knew?”
“Right?” Prom chuckled. “With that cold expression of his, I thought he’d be the type to brush it off, but look at him—he’s so damn considerate.”
Bonz grinned. “And those girls at the office? They love Yin. Especially when he smiles. You guys should’ve been there on our first day—they were practically swooning.”
Prom smirked. “Well, that makes sense. Yin’s the type to surprise people.”
War chuckled. “I get it now. He’s the cold-but-secretly-sweet type.”
Yin only smiled faintly, taking another bite of his food.
Because no one at this table—not even War—realized how much pain he was enduring just to sit there and smile.
After the Lunch—A Subtle Connection
The lunch continued with lighthearted conversations, but Yin remained mostly quiet, listening as Prom, Bonz, and War bantered back and forth. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy the company—on the contrary, it had been a while since he had felt comfortable in a setting like this.
But every word War said carried a weight only Yin could feel.
He learned new things about War in just this short time—his work philosophy, his friendships, the way he laughed easily but also spoke with a quiet, thoughtful certainty when it came to things he truly believed in.
Like rejecting his soulmate.
That part, Yin already knew. But now, he understood why.
It wasn’t just stubbornness. It was a belief in free will.
Yin admired that about him. Even if it hurt.
After lunch, Bonz had to return to the production office, and Prom left to handle another meeting. That left War and Yin walking back to the venue together.
The midday sun was warm but not unbearable. War stretched his arms over his head, then shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked beside Yin, who kept his gaze ahead.
“You’re quieter than I expected,” War mused.
Yin turned to him slightly. “You expected me to be talkative?”
War chuckled. “Not really. But Bonz kept saying you’re different once people get to know you. I was curious.”
Yin tilted his head slightly, considering his words.
“I don’t talk much unless necessary,” he admitted.
War hummed in understanding. “That’s fine. I like quiet people.”
Yin’s lips twitched, amused by the irony.
You like me, but you wouldn’t want me as your soulmate.
War glanced at him. “I can tell you’re the type who listens more than he speaks. That’s probably why people like you.”
Yin gave a small hum in response.
As they neared the venue, War suddenly changed the topic.
“You’re a sound engineer, right?”
Yin nodded.
“You think you can teach me a bit about it? I’m curious about how the tech works behind the scenes.”
Yin paused slightly, then nodded. “Sure.”
War grinned. “Great. I always work with the set design side of things, but I feel like understanding sound better would help with staging.”
Yin felt a small warmth in his chest at War’s genuine interest.
They reached the venue, and Yin led him towards the control panel backstage. War leaned in, watching as Yin adjusted the levels on the mixer with precise movements.
“You really know your stuff,” War murmured, impressed.
“It’s part of the job,” Yin replied simply. “You want to try?”
War hesitated. “You sure I won’t mess it up?”
Yin finally gave him a rare small smile.
“I won’t let you mess it up.”
War chuckled. “Alright, then.”
For the next half-hour, Yin patiently guided War through the basics, letting him adjust volume levels, test different outputs, and get a feel for how sound engineering worked.
War was a fast learner, but he was also clumsy with the controls, causing the speakers to blare too loudly at one point.
“Damn—sorry!” War winced.
Yin simply reached over and adjusted it back to normal, his movements quick and smooth.
“You need to balance it better,” Yin said, demonstrating again.
War watched him closely, noticing how effortless it seemed when Yin did it.
“You’re really good at this,” War said, this time softer.
Yin glanced at him, but War wasn’t joking around this time. His admiration was real.
Something about it made Yin’s chest tighten.
Instead of replying, Yin simply said, “Let’s go again.”
War grinned. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Later That Night – A Lingering Thought
Yin sat alone in his small apartment, staring at his own reflection in the mirror.
His chest ached—not just from the faint, dull remnants of the pain he had endured for years but also from something else.
Today, he and War had gotten along effortlessly.
War liked him.
Not as a soulmate. Not in the way fate had dictated. But as a colleague. As a friend.
And Yin knew that this was enough.
It had to be.
Because if War ever found out the truth…
Would he still look at Yin the same way?
Would he still smile at him, talk to him so easily, ask him to teach him things?
Or would he pull away, just like he had always promised to do to his soulmate?
Yin exhaled softly and leaned back against his chair.
He would never let War know.
And maybe, if he played his role well enough, they could keep getting along like this forever.
Even if it slowly killed him inside.
A Slow-Burning Realization
Months Later – An Unnoticed Shift