Go Hoon’s eyes widened in astonishment. One unexpected encounter after another—first Woo Gun-hyung, and now a black cat.
“…You!”
A rush of joy surged through him before he could stop it. Of course he felt that way—he’d searched everywhere for this cat. Back when he was frantically hunting for it, it hadn’t shown even the tip of its tail, and now here it was, appearing out of nowhere. He was still stunned by the sudden reunion when something even more unbelievable happened.
“Yes. I am the one speaking to you now.”
The cat opened its mouth and spoke—in fluent Korean.
Go Hoon’s face twisted for a moment. It felt bizarre, like watching a foreign film with mismatched Korean dubbing. He stared at the cat, dumbfounded, as if trying to confirm what he just heard. The feline tilted its head and spoke again, as if puzzled by his reaction.
“Is there a problem? Why are you staring like that?”
“…The cat’s talking?”
Go Hoon muttered in a dazed voice. Then again, why not? If he himself could turn into a cat, a cat speaking human language wasn’t all that strange. Ha… ha.
“How have you been?”
No. Still weird. What was with that tone? Did this thing time-travel from the Joseon Dynasty or something?
He’d been obsessed with finding this cat, convinced it held some kind of answer. But never, not once, had he imagined it would speak. Like, literally talk like a person.
Relaxing his expression, Go Hoon slowly crouched down to meet the cat’s gaze. With a more serious look, he asked,
“You could talk this whole time?”
“My name is Jiji.”
Total non sequitur. Apparently, the repeated “you, you” had been rubbing him the wrong way. With a firm tone, the cat corrected his form of address and lifted its chin.
Seemed like an attempt to show some authority—but the cute, fuzzy appearance didn’t exactly match the lofty tone. Go Hoon gave a dry chuckle and nodded halfheartedly.
“…Fine, Jiji. But if you could speak this well, why were you completely silent before?”
“I was observing you.”
A breath of disbelief slipped from between his lips.
So it was a test? To see how he’d react? But why? Who gave you the right to test me, cat?
Go Hoon shot him a stunned look, and Jiji blinked slowly in response. The golden irises disappeared and reappeared behind dark eyelids.
“The truth is, you can hear me because you are of the Myoin race. Normal humans can’t understand my voice. To them, it just sounds like a cat’s meow.”
Go Hoon’s eyes narrowed.
“…You’re saying I’m Myoin?”
The moment he caught that thread, his heart began pounding heavily in his chest.
Still—if he was the only one who could understand this cat, then standing around chatting in public was a bad idea. If someone saw this, they’d definitely think he’d lost his mind.
Getting branded a weirdo in a place like this was the last thing he needed. This town was tiny, the kind of place where gossip spread like wildfire. Even the smallest incident could snowball into something huge. If he ran into the landlady right now, who knew what kind of rumors would start?
“You—no, Jiji. Come with me. We need to talk.”
Having made up his mind, Go Hoon scooped up the cat and held him close to his chest.
***
“Alright. Let’s break this down.”
Sitting cross-legged in front of Jiji, Go Hoon furrowed his brow and fell silent for a moment before finally speaking.
“So, what you’re saying is… I’m part of the Myoin race. Myoin are born with the ability to freely shift between cat and human form. But since I was separated from my parents before I even developed a sense of self and raised by humans, I’ve only lived as a human until now. And you’re the one who awakened the instincts that had been dormant inside me.”
“That is correct.”
“…Then my parents must’ve been Myoin too, right?”
“Yes. Either one—or both—were likely Myoin.”
Go Hoon paused before asking,
“Do you know who my parents were?”
“I do not.”
The answer came quickly and firmly. Go Hoon let out a dry laugh—of course not. Deep down, he must have hoped this encounter would offer some clue about his parents. That faint, bitter disappointment confirmed it.
Still, he shook the feeling off. Focus on the now. He gathered his thoughts and spoke again, summarizing what he’d learned.
“Anyway… when Myoin turn twenty-five, they go through a transformation period. As that time approaches, their body starts to destabilize, then gradually finds balance. And once it does, they have to make a choice—to live the rest of their life as a human, or as a cat. Only one.”
He compressed the long explanation into a single sentence. Jiji nodded once more.
“…So you’re saying that once I make my choice, all memories of the life I gave up will be erased from the minds of regular humans?”
“You’ve understood perfectly. You’re much smarter than you look.”
It was meant as a compliment, but somehow it didn’t feel like one. Did this little furball really think he wasn’t capable of grasping something that simple? Go Hoon’s eyebrow twitched, but he quickly let it go—this wasn’t the time to get hung up on that.
Anyway, according to Jiji, he had to make a decision and put an end to this half-baked existence before the year was out…
Human or cat.
If he had to choose between the two, his answer was clear and simple. No matter what anyone said, he’d obviously choose to live as a human.
He’d spent the past 24 years living as one. The idea of spending the rest of his life as a cat didn’t appeal to him in the slightest.
But then, a thought suddenly surfaced.
If that’s the case… what about Bae Jung-yoon?
If he chose to stay human, all of Bae Jung-yoon’s memories of Kkongddeok-i would vanish, leaving only the human version of Go Hoon. But what would that even mean to him?
Would the memories of Go Hoon disappear too, if everything connected to Kkongddeok-i was erased? After all, their entire relationship had started with the cat.
The more he chased that thought, the more it spiraled, one question trailing another. And somewhere along the way, a dull ache began to settle in his chest. Part of him felt pathetic for worrying about it—but another part couldn’t help feeling a little heartbroken, too.
“Jiji… why did you come to me?”
That day—when he collapsed on the street—how had Jiji ended up finding him? Why had the cat appeared then, of all times? Why had he transformed into a cat that day?
He looked down at Jiji with heavy, searching eyes. The response came quietly, yet with certainty.
“A calling. As a guide of the Myoin, I go to those who seek help from me.”
“…You’re saying I called out to you?”
“Yes.”
Once again, Jiji’s answer was full of confidence. His golden eyes fixed on Go Hoon as he continued.
“We each live our own lives, but we’re still connected. Because you sought me out—I came to you.”
“I never did anything like that.”
Go Hoon narrowed his eyes in protest, but Jiji gently shook his head.
“It wasn’t your words or actions that summoned me—it was your emotions.”
“…My emotions?”
“Yes. Loneliness. Doubt. Longing. Feelings like those.”
Go Hoon was momentarily at a loss for words. So what Jiji was saying was that some emotion he felt that day had called him?
“…That’s even possible?”
“You felt it too, didn’t you? That sudden, inexplicable urge to find me.”
He had. When he’d first turned into a cat and was completely lost, the thought had struck him—sudden, irrational, and urgent—that he had to find the black cat, Jiji. Until that moment, he hadn’t even given it much thought. But then it was like something just clicked, like a divine revelation had struck him out of nowhere.
He’d assumed it was some kind of survival instinct, triggered by panic. But if Jiji had already been reaching out to him… then maybe that impulse hadn’t been his own.
“So that was you—calling me?”
Jiji nodded.
“I’ve always been here, waiting for you.”
“Then why didn’t you show up when I actually came looking for you?”
That day, when the idea had suddenly popped into his head, Go Hoon had acted on it immediately. He’d come here, hoping to find Jiji. But in the end, the cat never appeared.
“Because there was always someone with you.”
There was no mistaking who he meant. Every time Go Hoon had come here, he’d been with Bae Jung-yoon.
“We avoid interaction with ordinary people whenever possible. It’s one of our rules.”
Only then did it make sense—why Jiji had never appeared.
It was because Bae Jung-yoon had been with him. Jiji hadn’t shown himself because he couldn’t.
With that mystery finally cleared up, a new question rose in its place.
“Then why not come to me at another time—when I was alone?”
“We’re creatures of territory. We don’t leave our designated place.”
Come to think of it, he’d heard somewhere that cats were territorial by nature. Maybe that had something to do with it.
Go Hoon looked at Jiji with a deep, serious expression. Trying to take in so much all at once was beginning to make his head throb.
“How did the Myoin end up living like this in the first place?”
But even through the headache, he couldn’t stop himself from asking.
