The sight of Min Yugeon walking into my home with that heavy-looking bag slung over his shoulder is something I’ll never forget.
Just the day before, I’d finally managed to kick him out after pushing him to leave. Even though I’d shaken off some of the aftereffects of the accident, he’d still been staying in my house.
“What is this?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Why’d you come back?”
I stared at Min Yugeon in disbelief as he walked right into the living room and casually set his bag down.
He blinked, then smiled faintly.
“Oh. When I couldn’t see you in front of me, I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, felt like I was dying. I guess I got too used to being around you.”
“What?”
“I think you might need to take responsibility for me.”
Those bold words left me frozen.
Not because I was shocked.
…Because I was happy.
He was an adult now. He could’ve easily moved into the housing unit the ship provided. But he chose to stay with me. And in that moment, all I felt was joy.
Even when I told him to go back to his place, deep down I’d felt a little regret. But now, that lingering emotion was gone, and my heart started to beat with a quiet kind of thrill.
“Uh, I’m not asking you to do anything special or anything…”
Behind the glint of mischief in Min Yugeon’s sparkling eyes, a quiet sincerity peeked through.
“I just want you to let me stay by your side.”
That desire to stay near me—those words weren’t new. He’d been saying that for a long time.
Now it was finally my turn to give him an answer.
“……”
I took a quiet breath and opened the door.
And there he was, waiting for me like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Inside the silent house, I looked at him properly—and he looked terrible. His jawline had grown sharper, his lips were cracked and dry, the skin under his eyes was shadowed. It wasn’t until now that I truly saw him for what he was: completely hollowed out. I could tell how much of his mental strength had been drained.
“Suho.”
Out of the hundreds—no, thousands—of times I’d heard him call my name, never had it sounded so fragile, so broken. His bloodshot eyes, rimmed with red, shimmered with tears. He looked like he might fall apart at any second, and it made my chest twist painfully. I clenched my fists and held his gaze.
“I met with Min Sanghan.”
Then, slowly, I opened my mouth to speak.
“They say he’s going to be expelled from the ship soon.”
“……”
“So I’ve decided to let it happen.”
Min Yugeon didn’t even breathe loudly. He just listened.
“I don’t even want to try forgiving him.”
If I didn’t want Min Sanghan to die, there was a chance he wouldn’t be cast out. He was Yeo Wonjin’s enemy, yes, but Yeo Wonjin had handed over the right of punishment to me. He wouldn’t ignore my decision.
But I wasn’t that kind of person.
I wasn’t kind enough to save the man who took my family from me.
“…Even if he’s your father.”
There was no forgiveness.
At my cold declaration, Min Yugeon bowed his head low. He stared at the floor between us—just a small space, yet it felt far—and I couldn’t see his face.
I just looked down at the crown of his head.
“Are you disappointed in me?”
“…What?”
Min Yugeon’s head shot up immediately.
I asked calmly.
“Are you disappointed in me?”
“No. No, Suho. Of course not.”
He looked terrified that I might’ve misunderstood, shaking his head so violently it almost seemed desperate.
“Why would I be disappointed? If anything, if you wanted… I’d do it myself…”
His words trailed off. His teeth clenched.
Finally, those anxious eyes wavered—and the tears fell.
“…I’m sorry.”
The apology came out choked with heavy guilt.
“I’m really sorry.”
“……”
“I know even saying this is shameless. But…”
Min Yugeon staggered, then dropped to his knees.
“What do I do… No matter what I try, I don’t think I can go on without you.”
Back when I rejected him, thinking our feelings didn’t align, Min Yugeon had left—he didn’t want to burden me.
But just as I’d realized my own feelings after he nearly died… it seemed like this time, he’d come to understand his, too.
This desperate confession, clinging to me like his life depended on it, was both heartbreaking and unbearably moving.
“Min Yugeon.”
I approached as he began to sob helplessly, his shoulders trembling not with grief, but fear.
I knelt before him and met his eyes.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. You have nothing to apologize for.”
“……!”
His eyes widened.
“This isn’t your fault.”
I should’ve said this long ago.
Instead of running away and leaving him drowning in guilt and fear, I should’ve held that trembling body close and told him exactly this.
“I’m sorry for turning away.”
The truth was, I was the cruel one. I’d always known, on some level, that just as Min Yugeon held up my world, I held up his. But I’d never grasped just how deep his suffering was after I turned him away.
Accepting the dull ache in my chest, I cupped his face in my hands.
“…Ah.”
He froze, lips parting slightly like someone whose mind had gone blank. The tears had stopped, but the dazed look on his face made it clear—he was still unsure if he’d heard me right.
“Just now…”
His expression told me that no matter how many times I said it, he still wouldn’t believe it. So I leaned in and kissed him.
Min Yugeon didn’t resist at all. He simply stopped breathing as he was pulled into me.
His body was stiff, completely frozen. I pressed our lips together gently, hoping to warm his cold mouth with mine. Slowly, as our skin met and shared heat, our lips began to grow lukewarm.
I stared into his eyes—eyes like sun-dappled tree bark, eyes that had always given me a sense of peace. I bit down lightly on his lower lip, then let it go.
“Breathe.”
“……”
Only then did he exhale, like his lungs had been waiting for permission. The warm rush of his breath tickled my skin.
“Suho, I… Is this… Is this really happening?”
His voice broke, sentence by sentence, overwhelmed by emotion.
“This isn’t a dream, right?”
His eyes shimmered again, fresh tears welling up.
His words made my heart ache. I didn’t know what kinds of dreams he’d been having, or for how long—but this was real. To make that clear, I silently wrapped my arms around his neck.
When I kissed him again, tears spilled from his eyes in a quiet rush. This time, joy gradually overtook the confusion, and the flush spreading across his tear-streaked face showed that he was finally accepting it.
Min Yugeon grabbed my waist tightly. In a flash, I was straddling him, and as he tilted his head to kiss me more fiercely, I opened my lips to him. His tongue, hot and impatient, slipped into my mouth.
“Mmph…!”
Our tongues tangled as I ran my hand down the back of his neck. It wasn’t just Min Yugeon who was desperate. I wanted more. I wanted to give him everything and feel everything he had to give.
Right now… if souls really existed, then maybe—just maybe—ours could be joined, not just in body, but in spirit too.
“Hngh…”
Min Yugeon let out a soft groan, like he could barely hold himself back. His body burned with heat from head to toe, muscles tense with restraint, sweat beginning to form on his skin.
Our lips parted with a slick sound, damp with shared breath. I lowered my head until our foreheads touched.
Catching his breath, Min Yugeon finally spoke.
“…Now it feels real.”
“Yeah. You look like it does.”
Neither of us said who laughed first, but we both broke into helpless, giddy smiles.
“Suho.”
With a look like he might die from happiness, Min Yugeon gently stroked my cheek.
“Thank you. And…”
I looked into his eyes, quietly waiting.
“I love you.”
“……”
“I’m in love with you. And I will be—always.”
Min Yugeon’s eyes gleamed with devotion as he kissed my forehead, the bridge of my nose, and then my lips in order. His affection was so immense that just meeting his gaze felt like it could fill me to the brim.
And then, I finally spoke the truth I’d been holding inside.
“Me too.”
Just like I always have—and for the rest of my life.
“I love you, Min Yugeon.”
His eyes welled up, and he broke into a radiant smile.
***
A quiet morning at the lab.
I sat at my desk, poring over the data tied to the Military Beast Project. The papers were spread out before me—so many revisions needed, it was practically a new blueprint altogether.
Knock knock! Knock-knock-knock!
The sharp, urgent knocking broke through my focus. Curious, I checked my watch. It was much earlier than the usual arrival time for my team.
“Team Leader, are you in there?”
The anxious voice belonged to Lee Seo-rim, so I answered without hesitation.
“Yes, come in.”
I hadn’t even finished replying when the door flew open.
Lee Seo-rim and Seol Young-jun burst into the lab, only to freeze at the sight of me calmly reviewing documents.
“Team… Team Leader?”
“Y-You’re… okay, right? You are, aren’t you?”
Their faces were filled with worry, doubt, confusion as they cautiously approached. Given what they knew—that I had been kidnapped, miraculously returned, and was supposedly recovering—it made sense that seeing me back to work, completely fine, would throw them off.
“As you can see, I’m fine.”
I gave a light shrug, and the two exchanged looks.
Then, almost in unison, they both slumped as if their bodies had finally relaxed.
“Thank goodness…”
“Thank you… for coming back safely…”
They must have had a mountain of questions about that day, but neither dared voice them aloud. That small consideration and concern made the corners of my lips curl up slightly. I felt both grateful and proud of them.
As they approached the desk, their eyes fell on the towering stack of blank logs and training guides.
“Huh? Team Leader, that’s a lot of new training manuals.”
“Wasn’t only one beast added recently?”
Rai, who’d been transported to the ship not long ago, had nowhere else to go and was temporarily placed in Building B with Cat. Even including Rai, the number of beasts I managed was still quite small—so they were understandably confused by the sheer volume of documents.
Glancing at the logs, I gave a small nod.
“I’m planning to go down to the surface to train a larger number of beasts more efficiently. Unlike the lab, things can be handled on a broader scale there.”
“Ahh… Wait, what?”
“Wait, what?”
They had nodded reflexively, but now both wore stunned expressions. It didn’t take long before they were looking at me again, as if unsure they’d heard correctly.
“T-The surface?”
“Broad scale?”
Watching their intense reactions, I simply blinked and turned to look at the towering stack of training logs.
It was time to begin the real training.
[The End]
