[O.O?]
What do you mean, “Are you okay?” That was a rather out-of-the-blue question. Sa-yoon absentmindedly tapped his right thumb against the screen, sending a half-hearted reply. The “1” indicating an unread message disappeared immediately—seemed like they were watching the chat.
[ sj ] Sesame, are you okay?
“Ah.”
Well, of course, it wasn’t like they were asking after the well-being of a perfectly healthy male senior in the middle of the night. Seeing those words, he finally recalled something he’d forgotten.
Now that he thought about it, why was that troublemaker so quiet? That was… unsettling. Sa-yoon quickly turned around to check.
The kitten, who had been diligently grooming itself like a cat, was now curled up in the middle of the bed, sleeping like a tiny snail. A sigh of relief escaped Sa-yoon’s lips. It was late; too late for such a young thing to still be awake.
He lowered his gaze back to the screen.
[I regret not being able to buy you a cup of tea that time.]
[I’ll buy you a meal instead. After class, if you’re free?]
The “1” disappeared immediately again, but no reply came. Sa-yoon tilted his head. Something had definitely happened that day… He slowly retraced his memories of last week, back when he had just gotten Sesame admitted to the hospital.
***
Unable to get the tiny kitten out of his mind, Sa-yoon revisited the hospital as soon as the weekend was over.
Fortunately, Sesame had already regained its energy. Its belly, round from eating well, was exposed as it lay sprawled out in sleep. They say young kittens sleep on their backs like humans—and it was true. Finding that unbearably adorable, he silently took pictures through the glass.
As he did, a passing nurse glanced over and chuckled.
“Sesame’s lucky. His big brothers keep coming to see him.”
“Huh? Who came by?”
According to the nurse, a man claiming to be Sesame’s guardian had been waiting to check in on the kitten even before the hospital doors opened. Sa-yoon immediately knew who it was. He felt an odd mix of emotions.
Regardless, now that the kitten was recovering well, the next step was finding it a permanent home. After leaving the hospital, he settled into a café, opened his laptop, and signed up for Because It’s Great to Be a Cat, the largest cat community on N Portal.
He ran into some trouble trying to post without reading the forum rules, but after a few failed attempts, he managed to figure it out.
At that point, Sa-yoon was feeling quite optimistic. After all, Sesame was cute, young, and a beautiful kitten.
People are probably going to fight over who gets to adopt him. What if there are too many applications?
I can’t trust strangers I meet online too easily, so maybe I should meet each candidate at least three times.
I wonder if there’s a guide on the forum with suggested interview questions for adopters?
It didn’t take long for those ambitious dreams to be shattered.
Scroll, scroll.
With each flick of the mouse wheel, Sa-yoon’s expression grew increasingly serious. The adoption board was overflowing with posts. There were far too many cats compared to the number of people looking to adopt.
Sure, Sesame was by far the cutest among them, but judging by the situation, he’d be lucky if even a single applicant showed interest—choosing an adopter would be a luxury.
Like most temporary caretakers, Sa-yoon wanted to carefully select the best possible home for Sesame. As he pondered, one particular face came to mind.
“If only he wasn’t allergic…”
Sa Shin-jae was a verified, trustworthy person—someone he could rely on. Plus, he genuinely liked Sesame. The fact that a college student had waited for the hospital to open early on a Monday morning just to see a cat? That kind of dedication wasn’t normal.
And since they knew each other, Sa-yoon could ask to visit Sesame anytime he wanted. The more he thought about it, the more of a shame it seemed.
Can’t allergies be overcome with sheer willpower? What are all those science majors even doing? How has modern science not found a way to cure allergies yet?
Just as he was lamenting the slow pace of scientific progress—
Ding!
A bright notification popped up from the café’s app. A comment, posted just three minutes after his listing.
Comment – PurringPurring: I’d like to adopt the cat. Is it still available?
I knew it! Someone who truly recognizes Sesame’s value has appeared!
Excited, Sa-yoon clicked to reply.
***
“Ugh, bastards like that should be locked up for life.”
“Locked up? That’s too good for them. They should be fed gravel. No water, either.”
The sharp voices yanked Sa-yoon out of his half-asleep haze. Lifting his head from where it had been resting on his arms, he spotted Yeon-hee, her face twisted in anger, talking heatedly with a friend sitting in front of her.
He had dozed off for a moment during their major lecture, but now, the classroom was filling up—class must have been about to start.
“What are you looking at?”
“Good morning, senior.”
“Oh! Senior, you need to see this.”
A phone screen was suddenly thrust in front of his face. Out of reflex, his eyes skimmed the first line.
“Boy who secretly killed eight adopted stray cats—what kind of punishment will he face?”
…What?
It was like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over his head. Fully awake now, he took the phone and started reading properly. The article was disturbingly detailed, complete with blurred-out images.
“What a fucking lunatic.”
Adopting perfectly healthy cats, torturing them to death, then adopting more just to do it again—”lunatic” wasn’t even a strong enough word for filth like that.
“Right?! Total psycho. Like, does he have nothing better to do than—”
“I don’t understand why cat hate has gotten so bad lately. Remember that time someone put rat poison in a cat’s water bowl on campus?”
“Yeah, I remember…”
That had happened? Sa-yoon had no idea. Maybe Sesame hadn’t been abandoned by its mother after all—maybe it had lost her to something much worse.
With a heavy heart, he scrolled further down the article—then let out a frustrated sigh. The screenshots attached to the report looked painfully familiar.
A sinking feeling twisted in his gut as he suddenly remembered the adoption request comment from last night.
It couldn’t be… right?
He had been chatting with the commenter, “PurringPurring,” since the night before, asking standard questions—had they raised a cat before? Did they live with family? How much time did they spend at home? But the replies had been slow, the conversation dragging on in broken intervals.
Now, after reading that article, even someone who responded in just three minutes like “PurringPurring” seemed suspicious.
And, of course—Sa-yoon had barely finished the thought before he was pulling out his phone and checking the user’s profile.
Sure enough, “PurringPurring” had scattered adoption requests all over the forum, like Hansel and Gretel dropping breadcrumbs.
Sesame’s adoption post had already been pushed back to page three. No new comments had appeared.
“The world is getting harsher or something… It feels like there are more lunatics than ever.”
Sa-yoon nodded in agreement. Just then, his phone vibrated. A message from the animal hospital.
[Hanmaum Animal Hospital]
[(Photo attached)]
[Hello, guardian! Sesame is doing well—super energetic! He just had breakfast and ate really well.]
[He should be ready for discharge tomorrow ^^]
In the photo, Sesame sat neatly with his tiny paws tucked together. His dazed eyes seemed to ask why he was even there. His mouth was slightly open, revealing two tiny fangs, smaller than grains of rice.
How could I possibly give away something this cute?
He was still too young to be handed over to a stranger. Even if a potential adopter did show up, after reading that article, Sa-yoon knew he’d be plagued with anxiety.
Wouldn’t it be better if I just kept him?
It was an impulsive thought, but not a bad one. The only reason his family hadn’t had a pet since their golden retriever, Neureong, lived out his natural life and passed away was because the heartbreak of losing him had been too much.
But that didn’t mean they didn’t love animals. Quite the opposite. And Sa-yoon wasn’t a child anymore—he was fully capable of taking responsibility. There was no real reason to send Sesame away.
“Alright, class is starting.”
The professor entered, signaling the beginning of the lecture, but Sa-yoon found it hard to focus.
By the time the class was nearing its end, his decision had solidified. The moment the professor closed the textbook on the podium, Sa-yoon opened his messenger app.
[Shin-jae.]
[Sesame’s getting discharged tomorrow. Want to come with me?]
He had sent the message in the heat of the moment, only to remember—too late—that Shin-jae had a fur allergy.
[I’ll bring a carrier, so the fur should be contained.]
He hurriedly added that last part. The reply came almost instantly.
[ sj ] What time are you going?
***
“Your address.”
“Huh?”
On the day of Sesame’s discharge, Sa-yoon had naturally assumed they’d be taking public transportation home. It was the only option for someone without a car.
What he hadn’t accounted for was the fact that the pet carrier—despite being designed for a kitten—was bulkier than expected. Or that Shin-jae had driven there.
Through the transparent dome attached to the carrier, Shin-jae peeked at Sesame before heading towards his car. Then, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, he turned to Sa-yoon and asked for his address.
“Huh? You’re giving me a ride?”
That wasn’t why he had invited him to come along. He had actually been debating whether he should take a taxi, but since Shin-jae was offering, there was no reason to refuse.
“Thanks. My address is…”
