“Are you hungry?”
Grrr…
The beast placed its front paws on the barrier wall. Standing tall and stretching its body, the shadow it cast completely engulfed him. The creature’s reaction was so clear, it almost seemed as if it had heard that same question countless times from his parents.
Convinced now that it was hungry, Suho craned his neck all the way back to stare up at the beast.
“Mom and Dad aren’t home right now, though…”
Just as he began to wonder if he should rush upstairs and call them—
Pssssshhh…
The beast’s nose twitched, and suddenly, a mist-like fog sprayed out from within the wall. He couldn’t tell where it originated, but in an instant, the haze enveloped the beast.
The creature blinked slowly, then swayed, one paw still propped against the wall.
It looked as if it might collapse at any moment. His eyes widened.
“Yes, the button you mentioned worked just fine. It seems the issue was only with the automatic feeding function. I’ll confirm it’s asleep properly before heading up—”
Ji Chanwoo’s voice rang out.
Startled, Suho turned around to see Ji Chanwoo walking over, wrist to his lips, mid-phone call. He froze upon spotting Suho, clearly stunned to find him there.
At that exact moment, the ground trembled with a thud.
He whipped his head back to see the beast sprawled out across the floor.
***
When his parents returned from the conference and heard the full story from Ji Chanwoo, their horrified reaction was inevitable.
After repeatedly apologizing, claiming he thought the underground entrance had automatically locked, Ji Chanwoo was finally sent off. Suho’s parents rushed to check him over from head to toe.
“You’re not hurt anywhere, are you, Suho?”
“Why is your hair such a mess…? There were a lot of stairs—did you maybe trip?”
Seeing their worried faces, guilt for acting recklessly came crashing down on him. His shoulders slumped without even realizing.
“…I’m sorry.”
“No. No, honey.”
Startled, both his mother and father shook their heads quickly.
“It’s natural to be curious about places you’ve never been.”
“Of course it is!”
Honestly, he had expected to get scolded. But instead, they were remarkably understanding, saying it was only natural to be curious about areas that were normally off-limits.
“Our little Suho must’ve been so scared.”
“…”
Wrapped in his father’s arms, being gently patted on the back, Suho sank into thought.
Was this really something to be comforted over?
To him, the brief adventure earlier had been thrilling—fun, even.
“…I wasn’t scared.”
After hesitating for a moment, he looked up at his parents and shared how he had truly felt. He knew the way he was saying it might sound strange, but the feeling he’d had when facing the beast wasn’t fear.
It was something closer to… an odd sense of familiarity. Almost like he was happy to see it.
“I… want to see it again. Is that not allowed?”
At his cautious question, his parents’ eyes grew round with surprise.
They were completely dumbfounded.
“Uh…”
They glanced at each other, scanning his face as if trying to confirm whether they’d heard him right, then turned back with expressions of disbelief.
“My god… Suho’s never asked for anything like this before…”
His mother murmured, clearly stunned.
His father, even more overwhelmed, brought a trembling hand to his mouth, eyes glistening.
“This isn’t a dream, right?”
“…Honey. What if we go down there with him and just watch together? That should be okay, right?”
“H-huh? But even so, what if it affects him emotionally…”
Mid-discussion, they suddenly fell silent.
They realized it wasn’t appropriate to talk it over right in front of him.
“Suho. Is it alright if Mom and Dad think about it a little more before answering?”
“Yes.”
His heart lifted at the possibility—they didn’t say no.
He nodded obediently, but then paused as a thought suddenly struck him.
“Then… why did you put the beast to sleep?”
“Huh?”
His parents blinked. He thought back to the creature.
“It was hungry. But instead of feeding it, you sprayed something and made it fall asleep. That man said he did it because you told him to.”
“…Suho, how did you know the beast was hungry?”
“I asked if it was hungry, and it said yes.”
“…”
His parents exchanged bewildered glances.
“Uh… did it?”
They all seemed genuinely baffled that Suho had managed to understand the beast’s condition. Wondering if he’d done something wrong, he looked to their expressions for clues, but his parents quickly composed themselves and answered his earlier question first.
They explained it in terms he could easily understand. Apparently, they had originally set up a management system to automatically drop food for the beast. But a temporary malfunction had occurred today, and the scheduled feeding didn’t happen on time. That’s why the beast had grown anxious and irritable from hunger.
Ji Chanwoo had noticed the strange behavior, gone down to investigate, and contacted them to take appropriate action.
Though the creature throwing a fit wouldn’t have caused the building to collapse or anything, the ongoing stress from hunger could negatively impact its mental state. That’s why they had chosen to put it to sleep instead. His parents also added that a beast, acting purely on instinct, struggled to endure hunger.
“Then we should fix the broken machine.”
“Exactly. When Rai wakes up, we need to make sure it can eat properly.”
“Rai?”
“That’s the name of the beast you saw.”
His mother explained that while each beast had its own official code name, they had given them simpler nicknames for convenience.
Rai… Suho mouthed the name to himself, silently deciding that next time, he would call it that too.
Once the explanation was over, his parents busied themselves again. After changing into more comfortable clothes, his mother stayed with him while his father went down to the lab to check on things.
Apparently, the issue was simpler than expected. His father returned to the first floor in less than an hour.
“Hey!”
“Oh, you already checked everything? Should I go down too?”
“No, I already fixed that part—it’s fine now. But that’s not the issue right now.”
His father’s voice was noticeably more urgent than usual as he waved the tablet in his hand. Suho, who had been fiddling with a Rubik’s Cube, and his mother, who had been cleaning the floor, turned their attention to the tablet.
“I was reviewing the footage, just to make sure Suho didn’t fall or anything—and look at this.”
He patted the spots beside him on the sofa, inviting them to come see. Suho understood he was welcome too and plopped down on one side. The whole family lined up on the couch.
His father, seated in the middle, manipulated the device. When Suho tilted his head to view the screen, it showed footage—not a photo, but video—of him and the beast facing each other across the barrier wall.
The entire area, including the hallway around the beast’s containment space, had been fitted with cameras from multiple angles.
“…! Rai’s reaction…”
His mother muttered in surprise as she watched.
She quickly took the tablet from his father, turned up the speaker volume, and replayed the footage.
Suho glanced back and forth at his parents, unsure what the issue was.
“It’s this calm?”
“It’s not just calm—it’s showing signs of wanting to communicate. It really responded to what Suho said. How is this even…”
The two of them launched into an intense discussion. Some of the terminology they used flew over Suho’s head.
He tried to follow along for a while but began to lose track.
“…Maybe…”
His mother finally took her eyes off the screen and looked directly at him. Suho met her gaze, confused.
“…Mom?”
“…”
“Hey.”
His father placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched.
“Uh, yeah.”
She shook her head, as if snapping herself out of it.
“No, it’s nothing. I just had a completely ridiculous thought.”
She mumbled as if even she couldn’t believe it herself.
After that, his parents replayed the footage of him approaching Rai several more times. With evident curiosity, they started asking him all kinds of questions.
What did he feel when he faced Rai? What went through his mind? How did Rai appear in his eyes?
Honestly, he didn’t think his answers would be of much help, but they were all simple questions—easy enough to answer. So he replied without hesitation.
For the first time, he felt like he was seeing his parents in their roles as researchers. The sparkle of curiosity in their eyes struck him as fascinating.
And so, after a whirlwind of a day, bedtime finally arrived.
“Sweet dreams, Suho.”
After confirming that Suho had closed his eyes in bed, his father kissed his forehead and quietly left the room.
“…”
Suho slowly opened his eyes again.
The bright light outside was blocked by the curtains, and the room was completely still, but sleep wouldn’t come.
Maybe he was still too excited from everything that had happened.
His mind was wide awake, and his throat had started to feel dry.
He pushed back the blanket, stepped out of bed, and walked to the door.
The moment it creaked open, he heard his parents’ hushed voices from farther down the hall.
“…It’s not clear. It seems like Rai calmed down after making eye contact with Suho, but maybe not.”
“Mm.”
“Well, our kid’s eye color is a little unusual, sure, but what difference would that make?”
He turned his head slightly and caught sight of his own reflection in the mirror hanging beside the door.
The room was dark, so the image of himself in the mirror was shadowy and indistinct—but even in the dim light, the golden shimmer scattered in his eyes stood out sharply.
Maybe not in daylight, but in this kind of darkness, the glow was unmistakably clear.
