It was exceedingly rare to move residences aboard the ship. Such a change was only possible under the captain’s authority, and without a special reason, it was never approved.
With widened eyes, I looked at Lee Minha and my parents.
“I heard from Yihan. Apparently, the captain has high hopes for the project you two initiated, so he decided to grant you special support.”
Lee Minha glanced at Min Sanghan as she added her remark.
“Oh, well. It’s still only in the planning stage.”
My mother responded with a smile. Sitting beside her, my father looked back at me with an awkward grin. He seemed a little regretful—most likely, they had intended it as a surprise for later.
“We’re just grateful they think well of us.”
“Would they have done so without a reason?”
Wiping the corners of her mouth with a napkin, Lee Minha smiled softly.
“You’re both really impressive. It’s no wonder Sanghan is jealous.”
…
For a split second, a crack ran across Min Sanghan’s expression. But Lee Minha didn’t stop talking.
“He was absolutely green with envy, saying you two would probably even get promoted soon…”
“Honey.”
“What? Embarrassed?”
Lee Minha laughed as she looked at Min Sanghan. Her gaze held a subtly icy undertone.
“They’re your friends. What’s wrong with being honest? Everyone probably knows by now how badly you want to become the next director.”
“Come on… When did I ever say I was jealous? That’s a terrible way to put it.”
Min Sanghan denied her words like someone whose secret had just been exposed.
“It’s something to celebrate, not envy.”
…
…
The sound of cutlery clinking fell silent, and an awkward stillness settled in.
My mother and father looked back and forth between them, visibly flustered. I glanced over at Min Yugeon. He stared quietly at his parents, as if this kind of tension was nothing new to him.
“…Ah.”
Lee Minha eventually shifted her gaze to Min Yugeon, then slowly looked over at our family as well.
“That’s right. When others succeed, we should celebrate with them.”
It sounded like a last-minute attempt to smooth over the situation. Though the ending felt uncomfortable, the chilly atmosphere hanging over the table eased slightly.
My parents offered a smile, clearly trying to hide their discomfort.
“Th-thank you for the kind words, Minha-ssi.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
The conversation continued, drifting through various topics. Naturally, discussions about me and Min Yugeon came up, and we both answered the occasional question from the adults.
Though Lee Minha and Min Sanghan didn’t openly show any lingering resentment, they didn’t exchange another word with each other. The meal ended in that vaguely subdued mood.
After a light dessert, Min Yugeon’s family began preparing to leave. I had thought they’d stay until the evening.
“You better come visit me next time, okay?”
Min Yugeon, remembering that Lee Minha had said she would invite our family next time, stuck out his pinky finger. I silently looked down at his finger, then nodded.
“Alright.”
“You mean it? Then it’s a promise.”
He grinned and wiggled his pinky.
…
Since I hardly made promises, even with my own parents, it felt a little overwhelming. But in the end, I hooked my pinky with his. After all, we’d only meet again if our parents set up another get-together.
Something about his bright, cheerful expression made it feel like I had no choice but to agree.
“Aww, are our little ones that sad to part? Once you start school, you’ll see each other every day.”
My father came up close and ruffled both my hair and Min Yugeon’s with a fond smile. The other adults, having finished their goodbyes, watched us warmly.
We awkwardly unlinked our pinkies and stepped apart.
***
“How is it, Suho?”
Mother asked brightly as she held me in her arms.
“Do you like your new home?”
Feeling the warmth of her cheek pressed against mine, I looked straight ahead. The clean, single-story building looked much larger than our previous home.
“Yes. It’s clean and pretty. But…”
He looked around the area, decorated with artificial grass and trees. The scenery felt strange—just a single house standing alone, with no neighbors in sight. Coming from a district where homes were crammed tightly together, the emptiness made it all feel even more unfamiliar.
“There’s only our house here?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
His father, standing beside him, gently patted his back as he answered.
“Your mom and I will be working here, too. And when that’s the case, we need to be far away from places where people live.”
…They were going to work from home? That meant they wouldn’t be commuting to the research lab every day anymore.
He closed his mouth and stared at the building. It must be where the beast was kept. Just like his father said, it made sense that the entire area would be under strict control.
“You all arrived early.”
“Hello.”
“Good afternoon.”
Their family exchanged greetings with the soldiers stationed around the house. One of them, in particular, gave him a warm look. The man had dusky skin and a laid-back aura, appearing about the same age as his parents.
“Hey there, buddy. I’m Ji Chanwoo.”
With a rough but gentle touch, Ji Chanwoo ruffled the top of his head. When he bowed politely, the man chuckled and praised him for his manners. Soon after, he struck up a friendly conversation with his parents, mentioning that he had a child about the same age. He seemed to have a personality as sociable as Min Sanghan.
Life in the new house began smoothly. His parents strictly secured the underground facility to prevent him from entering by accident and alternated responsibilities—one worked while the other cared for him. For someone who preferred his parents over a babysitter, this brought a greater sense of comfort and stability than before. Thanks to that, he was able to adjust quickly to the unfamiliar environment.
A research facility where they could observe and interact with the beast directly, yet also a warm and cozy home. For his mother and father, the new house was an ideal place to balance their demanding project and parenting. Since the Military Beast Project required an immense amount of time, it was clear that the captain had arranged this environment out of concern for the young child they couldn’t help but worry about.
Of course, as a child, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. He simply felt a sudden surge of curiosity about the beast likely lurking just beneath his feet.
“…The beasts appeared! Roar! They opened their huge mouths, trying to eat people, but the people were so shocked that they ran away as fast as they could. All the way here—to the ship where we live now.”
On an ordinary afternoon, while listening intently to his father’s animated reading of a historical fairytale, he suddenly spoke up.
“Where did the beasts come from?”
“Hmm. It’s not entirely clear… But it’s assumed they emerged from a place just like this—out of nowhere.”
His father drew a circle in the air. As he focused intently on that spot, his eyes gravitating toward it, his father chuckled affectionately, finding his concentration adorable. But he was dead serious.
“Maybe someone released the beasts on Earth. Told them to wipe out all the humans.”
“Oh…”
His father paused, momentarily speechless, searching for an appropriate response. He always took time to consider his answers, but not once had he ever failed to respond.
“That might be possible.”
At last, his father gave a candid reply.
“But we still don’t know for sure, Suho. Just like you said, maybe some entity let the beasts loose in our world—or maybe they just appeared on their own.”
He stroked his face, unable to offer a definitive answer, a faint bitterness in his expression.
“But what really matters to people isn’t the reason…”
His father trailed off. Even though he didn’t finish the sentence, he understood what came next. For the survivors, the cause of the beasts’ arrival was less important than figuring out how to fight them or how to stay alive.
He looked down at the illustration in the storybook. Cartoonish drawings of various beasts attacking people filled the pages. The final scene depicted the survivors smiling brightly inside the ship, having escaped safely.
…Could this really be called a happy ending?
“Those weren’t all the people, right?”
His sudden question was met with silence.
His father hesitated, clearly debating whether the truth about the overwhelming number of deaths was too much for a child to hear. A faint shadow passed over his previously gentle face.
“Yes. Suho, your grandma and grandpa died during that time, too.”
Eventually, his father gave the answer and lifted him up in his arms.
“They sacrificed themselves so your mom and I could board the ship. Thanks to them, we were able to meet… and you came to us.”
The sorrow passed quickly. The way his father looked at him—like he was the most precious thing in the world—was filled with warmth. The way he held him, so gently, felt safe.
“Suho. Your mom and dad’s wish is to live on the surface with you someday.”
His father shared stories of his own childhood, living on the outside world before the catastrophe. Skyscrapers that touched the sky, amusement parks bustling with people, oceans where he swam freely, mountains that changed colors with each season…
To him, born aboard the ship and knowing nothing else, it all sounded like something out of a dream.
He gazed at his father’s face, memorizing the expression full of longing.
