The survivor stared at the candy without so much as blinking. The unwrapped sweet exuded a sugary scent. His ragged breathing, once fueled by excitement, began to steady. But we were close enough that I could feel his tousled hair flutter softly across my forehead.
It was just a gut feeling that he wouldn’t hurt me—nothing more. So bringing the candy, after watching him grow enraptured with sweet food over the past few days, turned out to be a relief.
“Grrrrr.”
A menacing growl rumbled from his throat, yet his eyes refused to leave the candy. Despite his rough demeanor, his face—likely in his early twenties at most—suddenly looked young.
I held the candy out to his mouth. The survivor flinched and scrunched his nose.
“You can eat it.”
“……”
“It’s okay.”
The arm he held me with was starting to ache. As I gently touched the candy to his teeth, he bared them and froze. His trembling pupils revealed a mind torn between hostility toward me and overwhelming hunger.
Unable to resist temptation, his lips slowly parted. As I slipped the candy into the opening, he clamped his mouth shut. It was a large piece of candy meant to last a long time, and it bulged noticeably in one cheek.
“Rrrngh……”
He instinctively chewed, growled, chewed again, and growled once more. The cycle was so comically repetitive that a sigh-like laugh slipped out.
“You already know, don’t you? I’m like you. One of your kind.”
At my words, the survivor froze completely. His dark eyes stared deep into mine.
I carefully clasped the survivor’s hand that was gripping me. Knowing I couldn’t overpower the force that refused to let go, I stayed still instead of provoking him further. Slowly, his grip loosened.
“See?”
I brought my hand to his five fingers, overlapping them like they were one. The survivor flinched, eyes widening as he looked down at them.
“We’re the same species. I’m not going to hurt you. Actually, it’s the opposite. I brought you here to protect you.”
I emphasized our shared physical features as I spoke. That should be enough for him to get the idea.
He made a soft clinking sound as he moved the candy to his other cheek and stared at me quietly.
After a long pause, a low rumble vibrated from his throat as he pointed at his own chest. I followed his gaze and saw the finger aimed directly at a wound. Cold sweat broke across my back.
He was asking why I’d hurt him—if I was one of his own.
“……I heard it couldn’t be helped, if we wanted to bring you in.”
“Grrrh.”
His narrowed eyes scanned every inch of my face, as if trying to separate truth from lies. He wasn’t just simple and impulsive, it seemed. That would explain how he’d managed to survive out there all this time.
“That’s why I came in here—to treat it. With this.”
When I held up the kit, the survivor glanced back and forth between it and my face.
I slowly crawled out from beneath him as he tilted his head slightly. Thankfully, he didn’t try to grab me.
He continued to watch me intently, rolling the candy in his mouth, as I silently opened the kit.
Using tweezers, I picked up a gauze pad and soaked it in antiseptic. The pungent chemical smell made the survivor wrinkle his nose with a grunt.
“Grrr……!”
“It’s medicine to clean your wound. You don’t need to be that on edge.”
He probably had no concept of medicine, but I still extended the tweezers. Though he let out a low, threatening growl as if to object, he didn’t move away. That was good enough.
I gently dabbed at the red, gaping wound. It looked painful enough to make anyone watching wince. He had scratched at it mindlessly until it reached this state, and yet the survivor didn’t even twitch. Did this not count as “touching” it in his eyes? Still, with the antiseptic, there had to be at least some stinging.
As I disinfected the wound, I studied it closely. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to require stitches. I swallowed a breath of relief. His body didn’t react to anesthesia, so if it had come to suturing, it would’ve been a nightmare. Even for someone like him, the pain of sewing up live flesh was probably unbearable.
“……”
The survivor stared down at me as I pressed the gauze gently to his wound. I kept my hands busy, pretending not to notice, but then realized that his gaze wasn’t fixed on my face.
…Where was he looking?
Following his eyes, I saw they were locked onto my researcher ID.
Was he fascinated by the photo that looked exactly like me?
Suddenly, the survivor reached out a finger to my ID badge. I paused mid-motion, hand still holding the ointment.
“Uh……”
“……?”
“Uuh, uu.”
The tip of his scarred index finger traced over the letters of my name—not the photo, but the text. It seemed the writing, not the image, had piqued his curiosity.
Until now, he had only ever made guttural, beast-like sounds. But for the first time, he muttered something close to a word. I listened closely.
Unfortunately, he closed his mouth again almost immediately. Instead, he tilted his head and kept glancing between the name and my face.
“Yeah.”
I took the survivor’s hand and pressed his finger firmly over my name.
“That’s my name. I told you on the first day.”
The survivor’s eyes, half-hidden behind his shaggy hair, widened as he focused intently on my words.
“This is ‘Seo.’ And this is ‘Su… Ho.’ Seo Suho.”
I guided his finger over each character of my name, one by one, spelling it out. The sensation of being physically guided seemed unfamiliar to him, as he twitched his fingertip and stared down at the letters.
Seizing the opportunity, I applied the ointment and wrapped his chest with a breathable bandage. His torso was so broad I had to nearly hug him to get the wrap around, and the location—connected to his shoulder—made it especially awkward.
“Don’t touch it until I say you can.”
I caught my breath and continued.
“If you keep scratching it, it won’t heal. Even if it does, the scar will be terrible.”
His body was already covered in scars, but that didn’t mean he needed more. The survivor didn’t respond, only quietly rolling his eyes up to meet mine.
He probably wouldn’t listen. I reached into the inner pocket of my lab coat and pulled out a small case full of candy.
“This is what I mean when I say ‘don’t do that.’”
I made a wild scratching motion across my chest and shook my head firmly.
“Got it?”
“……”
Finally, the survivor glanced down at his own torso wrapped in white bandages, his brows twitching in clear displeasure. His discontent was written all over his face.
As he rolled the now-smaller candy around in his mouth, he stared at the candy case in my hand. He seemed to realize that this was a reward—a trade for cooperation.
He could easily snatch it from me by force, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. But surprisingly, the survivor stayed calm. Though he glanced warily at his bandaged chest, he didn’t touch it, showing that he’d accepted the deal.
If I had just spoken through the glass, never entering, I doubt I could have gotten this far.
Feeling reassured, I handed him the case. The survivor blinked.
“Take it. One piece at a time.”
“……!”
His expression lit up as he cautiously accepted the case, hugging it like it was something precious.
I suddenly became aware of the state of the room. There wasn’t leftover food or anything messy, but something else was off. I packed up the medical kit and stood, then walked around the enclosure, picking up the scraps of shredded clothing scattered across the floor.
“……Grrrr.”
Still clutching the candy case, the survivor watched me for a while before suddenly rising to his feet and starting to trail behind me. I turned, puzzled, and met his vacant stare.
“Lie down and get some rest.”
I wanted to bring in a bed, but whether that was possible would depend on whether I could get out of here safely. For now, even the mattress we’d lowered in for feeding had been torn to shreds. I let out a sigh at the sight.
I wished he’d at least lie on the floor and get some decent sleep. But ever since being confined here, he had stubbornly refused to fall asleep—nodding off only to jolt awake in a panic.
I understood. He couldn’t feel safe. But without proper rest, his health was bound to deteriorate.
Still, the survivor barely acknowledged my words and simply caressed the candy case, the rattling sound of sweets faintly audible.
“Sleep, will you?”
“Snrk.”
His snort said, What’s it to you?
I stared at him in mild frustration, then gave up and went back to tidying the floor.
Come to think of it, his hygiene wasn’t bad. That was probably because he stood under the monster-sized shower in the corner whenever the observation room was empty. It seemed like a method to keep himself from falling asleep.
My back ached from walking the entire perimeter picking up the scraps. When I finally turned around with the last handful of debris, I locked eyes with the survivor—right as he was letting out a massive yawn.
He quickly shut his mouth and hugged the disproportionately tiny candy case tighter to his large frame. I stayed silent too, and the room fell still.
Fatigue must’ve been pushing him to the limit. After the fight with Sun Woosung, I’d been dragged in and hadn’t had a proper rest either.
It was surprising to see him let his guard down and show how tired he was—but it wasn’t something he could hide anymore.
“……Are you sleepy?”
The survivor blinked.
Did he not understand?
I had a vague sense that he didn’t comprehend all of what I said. He probably picked up on certain key words and the tone of our interaction to grasp meaning.
I studied his innocent expression for a moment, then glanced around. There was nowhere ideal to sleep, so I just plopped down on the floor.
The survivor watched, puzzled by what I was doing. I nodded once.
“Come here.”
