“You’re late today.”
“Were you out playing with your friend?”
The soldiers standing by the roadside near the house greeted him. Their tone and expressions were all casual and relaxed.
“Yes. I’m back now.”
Having watched him grow from a lisping little boy to who he was now, they treated him with a certain fondness. The feeling was mutual. As he greeted the familiar faces, his eyes met Ji Chanwoo’s—and he faltered.
Ever since the child, said to be sick, had fallen into a coma a few months ago, Ji Chanwoo’s complexion had grown noticeably darker. Even taking that into account, though, his face now looked far too pale.
Like he might collapse at any moment.
“…Mister, are you feeling okay?”
Speaking gently, Seo Suho addressed him. Ji Chanwoo flinched at the question.
“Hm? What’s up, Suho?”
“You don’t look well.”
“Ah…”
Ji Chanwoo closed his mouth briefly, flustered.
“I guess I’m just tired.”
“…”
“Don’t worry about me, Suho. Go on inside.”
His words trembled slightly at the end, despite the clumsy smile he tried to muster. He fidgeted with the sling securing his rifle across his chest and even avoided Suho’s gaze.
Suho glanced around at the other soldiers. Judging by their expressions, they hadn’t heard anything unusual either.
In the end, he simply bowed and turned to leave. It wasn’t right to keep prying when someone insisted they were fine.
“Suho’s home!”
“Welcome back.”
As soon as he stepped into the front hall, his mother and father, seated side by side in the living room, greeted him warmly. They each had a teacup in front of them—probably enjoying some tea time.
“You two came upstairs.”
Taking off his shoes, he looked back and forth between his parents. Ever since he’d gotten older, they’d spent most of their days down in the lab, so it was rare for them to greet him on the ground floor like this.
“Yeah. Rai’s asleep, and we figured it’s about time to start getting dinner ready.”
“That rascal’s not interested in spending time with us. He only gets excited when you’re around.”
His father grumbled like he was genuinely sulking. Suho exchanged glances with his mother and let out a soft chuckle.
Their long time together had paid off—Rai no longer showed any signs of wariness toward their family. Of course, Rai had always been calm around Suho, but it had taken his parents a very long time to earn that trust.
In the beginning, Rai’s behavior toward Suho’s mother and father had been vicious, as if it would never change. That kind of reaction was natural for a beast whose hostility toward humans was practically instinctual.
The stark contrast between how Rai acted with Suho and how he treated others had left his parents at a loss for words. It wasn’t until much later that Suho began to understand why.
…Even now, he wasn’t completely sure. Maybe Rai had simply seen him as a harmless child and hadn’t shown any aggression for that reason—and that same attitude had just stuck ever since. Or maybe there was another reason entirely.
After dropping off his bag in his room, Suho washed his hands and returned to the living room. As he sat in the empty seat, his mother reached over and patted his head.
“You were at Yugeon’s place, right? That’s why you’re late?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s been a while since I saw Yugeon’s face. Is he doing well?”
The question came naturally, and he fell silent for a moment.
The image of Min Yugeon, putting on a brave face as he saw him off, hovered in his mind.
“He said… after graduation, he’s planning to go into engineering.”
“Engineering?”
His parents blinked, clearly surprised.
Maybe Min Sanghan had often told people that his son would follow in his footsteps. That Yugeon would become his junior someday.
Suho chose not to tell them what had happened today. He just tilted his head slightly at their puzzled expressions.
“Oh, right. Suho.”
As if she’d just remembered something, his mother clapped her hands together with a smile.
“Your father and I decided to hold a mid-phase demonstration.”
“A mid-phase demonstration?”
“Yeah. It’s a chance to show everyone how much progress we’ve made in our research.”
Originally, Rai wouldn’t behave unless his parents were with Suho. But now, even when they were with Rai alone, he remained surprisingly calm—so they’d decided to run some simple training exercises in preparation for the event. His mother went on to explain that she’d even visited the lab this morning to relay her thoughts.
Apparently, Min Sanghan had been there in person. He’d flashed a cheerful smile and encouraged them, insisting they could count on him to handle the preparations.
The image of Min Sanghan—furious, seething with rage—flashed through his mind, utterly at odds with the cheerful demeanor his parents had described. Min Yugeon must have only learned about the application rejection that afternoon… so when his parents visited the lab earlier, Min Sanghan would have still been acting normal.
“We haven’t set a date yet, but… maybe our Suho can come watch, right?”
His father’s eyes sparkled with excitement. In his imagination, Suho was already sitting dignified in the audience, fully grown into a researcher, calmly observing the demonstration.
“That’s when I’ll go around bragging that you’re my son.”
His mother nodded and chimed in. Whatever exactly she meant by “bragging,” the mere thought of getting attention from her faceless colleagues sent a cold sweat down his back. Suho quietly turned his eyes away from his overly enthusiastic parents.
The lively conversation dragged on into the evening, and the family ended up eating dinner a bit later than usual. After filling his stomach and retreating to his room, Suho pulled out the test paper he’d been working on earlier at school.
Just as he was reviewing the final question, his parents knocked softly and stepped into the room. Two warm hands—different in size but identical in their tenderness—gently rested on his shoulders.
“It’s already midnight, Suho.”
“I just want to finish this part.”
“Alright. Then your mom and dad will go sleep first.”
“Okay. Good night.”
“Sleep well, sweetheart.”
“We love you.”
Just like always—whether when he was little or now—his parents never forgot to leave with warm, affectionate words. Once they left, Suho finished organizing the rest of the test paper and slid it into his bookshelf.
Midnight already. It was late… but a thought crossed his mind: maybe Rai was waiting for him. They saw each other almost every day, and on the rare occasion Suho didn’t visit, Rai—despite pretending otherwise—would sulk a little.
He grabbed the cube Rai liked and quietly slipped out of the room. The house was dead silent. Making his way to the basement entrance, he entered the passcode he now knew by heart. The door to the lower level slid open smoothly.
He descended the stairs quickly and rounded a column. At the far end of the straight corridor, Rai was there—unchanged, as always.
“You said you took a nap, but you’re still awake, huh.”
The beast, sitting with all four legs tucked underneath him, stared straight at Suho as he approached. Not a single thing about him had changed.
Beasts didn’t age, after all.
—Grrr…
“Sorry. I had a lot of homework today, so I’m late.”
—…
Rai gave him a sidelong glance, silent—but not in annoyance. He was reading Suho’s mood.
Whenever Suho was even a little down or out of energy, Rai wouldn’t growl or make any noise. He would simply sit there, tail stretched across the floor like a statue, quietly keeping an eye on him.
Maybe he’d sensed the lingering turmoil Suho had brought back from Min Yugeon’s house. Being looked after like that… it didn’t feel so bad, and a small chuckle escaped his lips before he realized it.
He sat comfortably on the floor, leaning against the wall. As he talked about what had happened at school that day, he absentmindedly played with the cube. Rai’s ears, hidden within his thick mane, subtly perked up, and his gaze followed Suho’s hands.
The child-sized cube—just four squares per side—was no challenge now. With a few quick twists, Suho aligned the colors perfectly, then scrambled it again, repeating the process. Before long, Rai had scooted closer to the wall near him. Resting his chin on his front paws, he let Suho’s voice wash over him like background noise while focusing intently on the cube.
—Kuruk.
Suddenly, Rai’s whiskers twitched. His expression contorted sharply, like a person frowning in disgust, and his gaze shot to the ceiling.
Suho stopped mid-turn and tilted his head as he looked up at him.
“Rai?”
—Grrrrrrr…
Rai opened his jaws wide and began to growl. With his head lifted high, his eyes gleamed with a chilling intensity.
That killing intent—one Suho had never once felt when they were together—was now so palpable, it could almost be touched.
Why, all of a sudden…? Alarmed, Suho rose to his feet and followed Rai’s gaze upward. But there was nothing visibly unusual, making the gesture feel pointless.
Had he heard something from the upper floor?
—Grrng!
Rai looked down at him, snorting as his shoulders rose and fell with tense breaths. Then, without warning, he took a step back—his massive form lowering into a four-legged stance—and twisted his body to the side.
Then he lunged.
“…!”
Boom!
The impact rocked the wall, causing it to shudder with tiny tremors. The massive sound that echoed through the corridor rattled not just Suho’s eardrums, but his entire body. For a brief moment, his vision felt like it was swaying.
It was unmistakably an attack.
Frozen in disbelief, Suho stared at Rai. There had been no signs leading up to this—no warning. His mind stuttered to a halt at the sight of Rai, suddenly acting violently for the first time ever.
