Go Hoon moved his feet in a rush.
[blakcat]
“Black cat?”
[I saawblakcatatthehous]
“When?”
[strtothsmstr]
“Start of the semester?”
Hoon nodded, reflecting on the past.
That cat… the pitch-black one that had wandered up to him, eaten his food, then disappeared. That small creature had left behind a chilling, almost supernatural sensation—and now, it refused to leave his thoughts.
[need2finthatcat]
He had completely forgotten about it until now, but suddenly, the memory seized hold of his mind like instinct.
Maybe the black cat appearing in his dream wasn’t just some coincidence. That night he’d passed out drunk on the street—what if something did happen between him and that cat? What if there was a hidden truth buried in the fragments of erased memory? The questions tumbled over each other, one after another.
Maybe he was just grasping at straws. But right now, this was the only thread of hope he had. He had to look for the cat. It had been a while, but maybe—just maybe—it was still roaming the neighborhood near his apartment.
***
This guy really treats me like his personal housecat or something.
Annoyed, Go Hoon cast a sulky glare toward the driver’s seat. Bae Jung-yoon caught the look from the corner of his eye and smiled.
“I know you don’t like the harness, Kkongddeok, but there are people watching.”
There’s no helping it, huh? Yeah right. That was just an excuse. This was a hundred percent the result of his own twisted tastes. Why else would he force something this humiliating on me?
The harness strapped around Go Hoon had tiny angel wings sewn on. As if that weren’t enough, a little star ornament dangled on a spring from the center, bouncing around every time he moved.
Before leaving, Hoon had stood in front of the mirror for a long time, just staring at himself. He hated how ridiculous it looked—but what could he do? Jung-yoon had said he wouldn’t take him outside unless he wore it.
Finding the black cat was more important.
The doubt that had started small was now a firm conviction. He truly believed that everything had started with that cat.
Maybe it was just wishful thinking. But Go Hoon wasn’t ready to give up hope.
Unfortunately, that hope didn’t amount to much. Once they arrived in the neighborhood and combed through every alley, there wasn’t even a single ant in sight. The cats that usually loitered everywhere were suddenly nowhere to be found. His once-eager steps slowed into a discouraged shuffle.
“Hey, look! A cat on a walk!”
“No way, that’s so cute. It’s got wings on its back!”
“But I thought you weren’t supposed to walk cats?”
As a group of students passed by, gawking in curiosity, Go Hoon shrank behind Bae Jung-yoon’s back.
Pfft. A sigh slipped out. His ears and tail drooped low.
Disappointment weighed heavy. He’d thought for sure he’d find it. But everything was going wrong, and now all he was doing was drawing attention he didn’t want.
Standing there, slumped in place, he didn’t even notice when Bae Jung-yoon gently scooped him into his arms.
“We’ve searched everywhere. Let’s go home for today, Kkongddeok.”
“Meow…”
Go Hoon replied in a weak voice. There was no point in being stubborn. Going home now was the smarter choice. They’d already spent over an hour circling the neighborhood, and there was no guarantee the cat would show up even if they stayed longer.
Back at the officetel, still clinging to a sliver of hope, Hoon tried once again to change back into human form.
Nothing.
His body remained completely unresponsive. He’d definitely underestimated how serious this situation was.
Sighing in resignation, he crawled into his hidey-hole. He needed time alone to think. His thoughts were all over the place. Why was his life like this? Nothing ever seemed to go right.
Curled up in a dark corner, trying to calm the storm inside him, he sensed someone cautiously approaching.
“Kkongddeok.”
Hoon didn’t budge.
Well—his ears twitched instinctively, but he didn’t bother looking back. He just wanted to be alone right now.
“Kkongddeok, try this. It’s your favorite—chicken breast.”
But Bae Jung-yoon didn’t know the meaning of giving up. He kept trying, his voice soft and coaxing.
Chicken breast or not, Hoon didn’t have an appetite. Resting his chin on his crossed front paws, he lay there listless—until an intense smell drifted over, catching his nose. His little pink nose began twitching on its own.
Curious, Hoon peeked his head out—just in time to lock eyes with Bae Jung-yoon, who had been watching him.
“Come on, Kkongddeok. Come have some churu.”
He was definitely trying to cheer him up. Trying his best to make Hoon feel just a little better.
Go Hoon reluctantly pushed himself up. He padded over and licked up the churu until the sachet was spotless, then finished off the chicken breast without leaving a single piece behind. Not like starving was going to fix anything. Might as well stay healthy and keep up with three meals a day.
After finishing his meal and grooming his fur, Bae Jung-yoon pulled him into his arms. He cupped Hoon’s head with both hands and gazed down in silence. Then, in a low voice, he murmured,
“What if you never turn back into a human?”
Don’t say crap like that, you asshole. My head’s already a mess. He should’ve been trying to reassure me, not tossing gasoline on the fire.
“Meooow, mrrrrowww—”
Go Hoon protested loudly, and Bae Jung-yoon let out a soft laugh. After quietly watching him for a moment, Jung-yoon whispered in a warm, gentle tone,
“Still… don’t worry, Kkongddeok. I’ll take care of you. For life.”
The hand stroking beneath his chin was unbearably gentle. There wasn’t a flicker of hesitation in Jung-yoon’s face—just his usual calm expression as he looked at Hoon in silence.
Maybe from his point of view, it really would be easier if Go Hoon stayed like this—as Kkongddeok. No arguments, no compromises, no need to make space for someone else’s life.
How much of Bae Jung-yoon’s world did Go Hoon even occupy?
The question rose in his chest, uninvited. But he couldn’t ask it—not just because he physically couldn’t speak. It was also because… deep down, he already knew the answer.
That night, Go Hoon had expected he wouldn’t be able to sleep with everything weighing on his mind. But to his own surprise, he slept deeply. Maybe it was thanks to the steady warmth of the arms that held him, unchanged.
A few days passed like that. Still unable to return to his human form, Go Hoon continued living as a cat—just like when they’d first met. The only difference now was that Bae Jung-yoon knew the truth—that he was a person named Go Hoon.
Jung-yoon had already contacted the language academy, saying he wouldn’t be able to attend for about a week due to unforeseen circumstances. But the truth was, they had no idea how long this would last. At this rate, he might end up flushing his tuition down the drain.
Despite the chaos behind the scenes, their daily life passed by peacefully. Jung-yoon had to go to the office during the week, so Go Hoon was left alone at home most of the time.
That day was no different. He sat with a TOEIC book spread out beneath him, doing his best to study in his own way. After killing time like that for a while, drowsiness crept in, and he crawled onto the bed, curling up in his usual spot.
Just a quick nap, he told himself, closing his eyes.
“Bae Kkongddeok.”
He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard a quiet voice call his name. Go Hoon opened his eyes. Still groggy, he stared at the figure who had appeared in his blurry field of vision.
Bae Jung-yoon was kneeling by the bed, meeting his gaze. He rested his chin on his arm and reached out, brushing his fingers softly along Hoon’s face—light, careful touches, like he was handling something delicate and precious.
“You came back.”
…Came back? What?
Still foggy, Go Hoon stared in confusion.
“Look.”
Jung-yoon took Hoon’s limp hand and laced their fingers together, lifting it gently. Pale fingers intertwined with tanned ones. With his cheek pressed against the back of Hoon’s hand, Jung-yoon looked at him steadily.
And finally—Go Hoon understood. After days, he had returned to his human form.
Relief swept through him. But strangely, so did a deeper exhaustion. Maybe it was the lingering fog of sleep—or maybe the emotional whiplash—but even hearing that he was back, his mind felt hazy and heavy.
Right now, all he wanted was more sleep. His eyelids were impossibly heavy. So he let them fall shut again, without protest.
That was when he felt a hand press against his chest.
A large palm rested over the left side, slowly sliding across his skin. Then it paused, as if trying to feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
What the hell? Why is he doing that?
Confusion pricked at the edges of his sleep-addled mind. But once the hand stilled, the sensation faded, and he started drifting again.
Just for a moment.
Then—Jung-yoon’s fingertip began to circle his areola.
A ticklish tingle spread across his chest. Go Hoon turned his head into the pillow, his brows twitching involuntarily.
He could feel those eyes watching him—closely, carefully. He let out a soft groan in protest, hoping it would stop him.
But it didn’t.
Jung-yoon’s fingers pressed harder, rubbing his nipple with deliberate motion—then gave it a tug.
Son of a bitch.
Go Hoon cursed silently.
What kind of pervy shit is this to wake up to?
He wanted to ignore it out of sheer defiance, but his body wouldn’t let him. His shoulders gave a twitch, and a soft, languid breath slipped between his lips.
Under the persistent touch, Go Hoon finally cracked open his eyes.
His gaze locked with Bae Jung-yoon’s, those jet-black irises staring right into his.
“…Quit fondling me, you freak.”
His voice came out rough—maybe from sleep, or maybe from how long it had been since he’d last used it.
