“He was so jealous, saying both Heeseo and Jaejin were bound to climb up the ranks…”
“Honey.”
“What? Embarrassed? They’re your friends—what’s the big deal about being honest? Everyone probably already knows how badly you want to be the next director.”
That memory—overhearing that conversation between him and Lee Minha when I was younger—resurfaced right after finishing my talk with Min Sanghan. Maybe it was because a part of me suspected Min Sanghan had always been hypocritical toward our family as well.
“Actually, my father…”
I’d told Min Yugeon it was fine, brushing off his troubled expression as he tried to tell me what Min Sanghan had said about my parents… and now what? What’s the point of thinking about it now?
Pointless, pathetic thoughts.
Maybe he sensed how weighed down I felt, because I could feel someone staring at me. That bold gaze bore into my cheek like it could drill a hole straight through.
“Suho.”
“…”
“Suuuuho.”
I turned to look back at Lee Shin, who had been unfolding the cot.
“What?”
“Suho… you’re not feeling good.”
His open, unguarded face showed a flicker of wariness, like he was testing my mood. Tilting his head slightly, Lee Shin spoke again.
“I didn’t listen. Am I in trouble?”
Not that it would matter—he didn’t look like he’d be scared even if I did scold him. Besides, when did I ever teach him what it means to be “in trouble”?
Maybe he remembered it from the guardian he must have had as a child.
I reached up to brush the hair that had fallen over his cheek. I tied it properly every day, but he always ended up running around like some four-legged beast or climbing walls, and his hair would end up sticking out in every direction.
“You’re not in trouble. Why would I scold you?”
Pathetic, letting him pick up on my emotions when I couldn’t even control them properly. As I swallowed a sigh, Lee Shin blinked at me.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong?”
“That’s right.”
I gave his shoulder a couple of soft taps, then set the pillow I’d been holding down onto the bed. I’d brought it myself because I didn’t want to see him curled up on the cold, hard floor.
I took off my gown and wiped the sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.
“Lie down here.”
I patted the bed as I spoke. Lee Shin looked back and forth between my face and the bed, then clambered up onto it on all fours. As soon as he sprawled out, limbs stretched wide, I paused—then gently pulled the blanket over him.
“…?”
He lay there, eyes open and dazed, with the blanket pulled up to his chin. Maybe the feel of soft bedding was so unfamiliar that he froze like a broken machine, unable to move.
“How is it?”
“…”
“Lee Shin.”
I waved a hand in front of his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling. His pupils rolled over to look at me.
“How does it feel? Is it comfortable?”
Lee Shin’s lips twitched at my question.
“Th-this…”
“Yeah?”
“I like it.”
It was the first time I’d heard such a serious tone from him.
I was stunned for a second before letting out a soft laugh, like air being released. Lee Shin stared intently at my brief smile.
“I’m glad. From now on, you can sleep like this.”
I gently stroked his hair. His face looked completely at ease as he closed his eyes under my touch.
I had been worried he might break the bed, but that had just been needless anxiety. Seeing how much he instantly took to it made me hope he could start living in a proper home with real furniture as soon as possible.
Honestly, maybe he could already handle it.
If he acted around others the way he was acting now, he could definitely integrate into society. Sure, there were still words he didn’t understand and sometimes he did things ordinary people wouldn’t get—but as long as he didn’t attack anyone, there wouldn’t be much of a problem living among others.
Of course, he’d need some help adjusting to life on the ship at first, but that wouldn’t be too difficult. It’d be so much easier on the heart than raising him here in the lab.
“…!”
Suddenly, Lee Shin’s eyes flew open wide. I flinched as he leapt off the bed in one swift movement and stood protectively in front of me.
His broad back blocked my view as I looked up in surprise.
“Grrrrrrr……”
Lee Shin crouched low, eyes locked onto the direction of the barrier. I turned my gaze to follow his, breath catching in my throat at the oppressive aura rolling in like waves.
“…”
I sucked in a shallow breath.
Outside the barrier stood Sun Woosung.
“Colonel…?”
His expressionless gaze fixed on us left me unsettled.
How did he get in? Only my team and I should have access rights.
…Ah.
It struck me too late—I’d never revoked the access rights that had been granted to Sun Woosung as part of the handover process on the day Lee Shin was brought into the observation room. Still, I never expected him to show up without saying a word.
Of course, if he came to check on Lee Shin’s condition, it wasn’t like he couldn’t enter. Lee Shin wasn’t a typical beast—he was a rare case, a survivor.
“Grrr!”
Lee Shin started backing up, slowly pushing me behind him. I couldn’t help but get pushed along as I kept a cautious eye on Sun Woosung.
“It’s okay, Lee Shin. He’s not someone who would hurt us.”
“No!”
Lee Shin immediately contradicted me, baring his fangs toward Sun Woosung.
“I fought him. That one’s strong. Suho, you need to be careful.”
“…”
I appreciated the gesture of protection, but—what happened to the memory of me standing beside Sun Woosung, the two of us watching him from outside the glass? Was his mind so overtaken by rage and fear back then that nothing registered at all?
“Lee Shin. Lee Shin, look at me.”
I grabbed his tense face, forcing eye contact. His breathing was rough as he looked at me, shoulders trembling.
“Calm down. That man lives on the ship with me. He fought to help bring you here.”
“…”
“You remember, right?”
Lee Shin frowned.
“I remember. But strong things are still dangerous. Can’t let them get close.”
It was the same attitude as someone who had survived among beasts—deeply ingrained instinct to keep threats at a distance. He couldn’t bring himself to stay near someone who could take his life at any moment. The habits of living in constant danger on the surface were carved into his bones.
“He’s strong, but he’s not someone who harms others without reason.”
I gently patted Lee Shin’s chest and spoke in a soft voice.
“He probably came because he was worried about how you’re doing. I’ll go out and talk to him, so just wait here.”
Lee Shin pressed his lips tightly shut.
His stubbornness didn’t break until quite some time later.
***
“I thought you’d left for the day.”
I offered Sun Woosung some tea in my lab as I spoke. I had assumed he’d finished his morning schedule and left the institute—I hadn’t expected him to show up at the observation room in Building A.
“May I ask what brought you to visit Lee Shin?”
“…”
His still, silent eyes bore into me. As if trying to read something more than confusion from my face, he didn’t look away.
“Since when.”
Instead of answering, Sun Woosung asked his own question.
“You were clearly bothered by the injury I caused him… Is that when you went in?”
His tone had a subtle but definite edge of reproach. I looked at his cold, hardened expression and slowly opened my mouth.
“I went in because he needed treatment. That was all.”
“And yet I asked you to notify me beforehand. Did it not occur to you that the survivor might attack you?”
“I was prepared, to an extent.”
“Was that preparation as reliable as calling me in?”
If Lee Shin had truly tried to harm me, there was no question that having Sun Woosung there would have made all the difference. But if Sun Woosung had entered with me, Lee Shin likely would’ve exploded in fury before I even had a chance to de-escalate.
I stayed silent, not arguing with Sun Woosung’s concern for my safety. A brief stillness settled over the table between us.
“Every time, I’m struck by how fearless you are.”
The problem was the words that followed—coldly delivered.
“Even among our unit, there aren’t many with guts like yours, Mr. Seo Suho.”
Normally, I would’ve just let the comment slide. I knew better than anyone that Sun Woosung had never been one to sugarcoat his words.
But today, that sarcastic remark scraped roughly against my nerves.
“…”
The unstable emotions I’d managed to forget for a moment while with Lee Shin surged up again, swelling without direction and taking the shape of anger. My disappointment in Min Sanghan and the tangled mess of thoughts clamoring in my head urged me to lash out at the wrong person.
“Whether I go into the cage to see Lee Shin or to meet Cat, I don’t think that’s something Colonel Sun Woosung has any right to interfere with.”
The words spilled out before I could even choose them.
“I’m a researcher with the authority to act autonomously on the matters I’m assigned here. Strictly speaking, Colonel, you’re an outsider. You seem to be overly invested in what I do, so I’d appreciate it if you could respect some boundaries.”
Even to my own ears, my tone was sharp, almost cutting. But Sun Woosung didn’t blink—his eyes stayed fixed on my face, devoid of even a flicker of surprise.
I hadn’t expected much of a reaction from him anyway, so I simply stood up.
“I need to get back. I’ll excuse myself first.”
This wouldn’t be enough to truly create a rift between us, but the thought that I’d been unnecessarily harsh still passed through my mind.
I turned away with a trace of self-reproach and began walking.
“Seo Suho.”
Just before I reached the door, a hand stretched out from behind and caught my wrist.
“Do you think I’m interested in your work?”
His voice, low and steady, brushed against my ear as I froze mid-step.
“I’m just… interested in you, Seo Suho.”
