Whirrr.
Cat’s eyes looked sorrowful as he stared at me. His drooping whiskers and limp tail made me feel like I was doing something terrible.
“…Colonel?”
Sun Woosung tugged on the hand he was holding. Pulled by surprise, I ended up close enough that our shoulders touched. I looked at him. Last time, he had seemed awkward just holding my hand, but today, he was acting like it was nothing.
Truthfully, I was the one feeling awkward now. He had seen me completely passed out after waiting for him earlier in the morning. It was because I had woken up from a dream at dawn and hadn’t been able to fall back asleep.
“You seem weak to that beast’s eyes. It looked like you were about to let go.”
Sun Woosung spoke flatly.
“…”
He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I gave in to everything Cat wanted. Looking displeased, I stayed silent while Sun Woosung glanced over at Cat.
“He really is smart. Rather than getting angry, he’s pretending to be pitiful to appeal to your sympathy.”
I had to agree, looking into Cat’s unusually dewy eyes today. He must’ve realized that growling at Sun Woosung was pointless.
Grrr…
Looking sulky, Cat snorted for a while before burying his face in his front paw. Rai had never been that bothered by my interactions with my parents. Maybe it was just a personality difference, or perhaps he simply harbored especially strong hostility toward Sun Woosung. I couldn’t be sure.
While watching Cat, I suddenly closed my eyes, which felt dry enough to tear, and rubbed my lids.
“Tired?”
“No. Just a little dryness in my eyes.”
Sun Woosung quietly studied me.
Now that I thought about it, I never did answer his question about my eye color. Back then, Cat had conveniently distracted him, so I managed to avoid it.
It would feel silly to bring it up now, so I decided to stay quiet.
Just as I was about to turn my gaze back to the front, I paused. There was something different about the look in Sun Woosung’s eyes. His black irises, which always seemed devoid of emotion, now sparkled faintly with a strange vitality.
Sparkling and Sun Woosung didn’t exactly go together. It felt wrong, even thinking that. Curious, I asked:
“Did something good happen?”
“Pardon?”
“Your face looks better than usual.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Sun Woosung’s face. It must have been the last thing he expected to hear.
He rubbed the space between his brows, seeming to mull over his response for a moment.
“I’m not sure. It’s not all good.”
I tilted my head, puzzled by the vague answer. But after a glance at my face, Sun Woosung didn’t offer anything more.
Just as he didn’t push me, I didn’t press him either. Still, I was curious. What had changed in Sun Woosung’s gaze?
His hand gripped mine a little tighter. Maybe we had been holding hands for too long, but I could feel heat radiating between our joined palms.
***
“Team Leader…!”
“T-Team Leader!”
Tears welling in their eyes, the team members hurried over as soon as they spotted me in the hallway. I was puzzled at first, wondering what could have them teary-eyed this time, until I let out a small sound of realization.
I remembered that I had asked them to check whether Lee Shin was properly receiving his meals, since I would be delayed due to some tests that needed to be run on Cat.
Back when Lee Shin first entered the lab, we had been wary of any emergencies, so we monitored him in real time via the observation room’s cameras, sometimes reviewing the footage. But once his condition stabilized, we deemed it unnecessary and disabled the cameras entirely to respect his privacy. Even so, I found myself more anxious than before, worrying about something happening when I wasn’t watching.
“I-I think we made a huge mistake,” Seol Young-jun said, looking completely drained.
“When you first told us, well… sure, it sounded scary, but we figured he couldn’t be worse than a beast, you know?”
“But we were wrong. It’s actually scarier because he’s human… or is he really human?”
Lee Seo-rim, looking as if she had fled in terror, murmured in a dazed voice. I had never seen her like this, though I could believe it from Seol Young-jun.
“The moment he saw us, he punched the wall and the whole observation room shook. He’s… incredibly strong.”
“How can someone climb a bare wall like that? It’s just… impossible.”
“…As I mentioned before, his physical capabilities are somewhat beyond normal.”
I tried to soothe the two of them, who were still visibly shaken. Lee Seo-rim, who had been sniffling, suddenly lifted her head as if recalling something.
“Oh, and the survivor asked for you. He only calmed down when we said you’d be coming soon.”
“Exactly. He kept calling your name—it almost felt like we were the villains keeping you two apart… though that’s separate from how terrifying he is.”
I nodded, relieved that the team could now communicate with him and were starting to calm down.
After chatting a bit longer with the still-babbling team members, I left and headed straight for Lee Shin. But not before grabbing some candy—an essential.
The observation room where Lee Shin stayed greeted me with nothing but silence. My heart dropped for a moment when I couldn’t see him, but I let out a breath of relief when I spotted him crouched in the corner, wrapped in my lab coat.
White-on-white made him practically invisible.
“Lee Shin.”
Knock knock. I lightly tapped the barrier, but he didn’t react at all.
Maybe I should’ve warned him in advance that team members would be stopping by. I felt a pang of guilt, realizing my oversight had probably startled both Lee Shin and the team.
Staring at the unmoving figure, I rounded the corridor and headed to the other side of the barrier.
I walked in without softening my footsteps, yet he remained still. Whether he was upset or not, I couldn’t tell until I saw his face.
Crouching beside him, I gently tapped his elbow where it poked out from under the coat—his frame was so big that it didn’t all fit under the fabric.
His head flinched slightly beneath the coat.
“The ones who came earlier—they’re my team members.”
I spoke softly.
“People I work with. I thought I might not make it in time today, so I asked them to check in on you. Sorry I didn’t warn you beforehand.”
Only the front half of his body was covered by the coat, so I reached out and stroked his bare back. I could feel the tension in his stiff muscles slowly melting away under my touch.
“Did I scare you?”
“…”
“…Lee Shin.”
His sulking form reminded me of Cat. Watching him maintain that curled-up posture, I asked:
“You planning to stay like this forever? Not gonna look at me anymore?”
He shook his head, as if to say that’s not it. That was at least a small relief.
Not wanting to push him when he clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk, I placed the candy I’d brought next to him and got up.
“I’ll be heading out early today, so get some rest.”
“No!”
Lee Shin sprang up and grabbed my wrist. The coat fluttered to the floor. Maybe he was panicking—his grip was surprisingly forceful.
“W-Why are you leaving already?!”
He stared at me with accusatory eyes.
“Suho, you come late and leave early. You’re irresponsible.”
The fact that he used the word irresponsible shocked me into silence. I just blinked, stunned, while Lee Shin bit his lip, his jaw trembling.
“You… Suho has friends. Strong guy, Suho’s friend. Suho has many friends. But I have none.”
“…What?”
“Lee Shin has no friends here.”
His expression darkened as he realized something was wrong. His face was twisted in frustration.
“Suho is not Lee Shin’s friend.”
Having grown up without forming relationships with anyone other than his older sister, Lee Shin struggled to grasp the concept of friendship. I had explained to him that friends were the people you spent time with—but it seemed that had broadened the definition too far.
He assumed that anyone who looked familiar with someone else must be their friend, and he had started labeling my teammates and even Sun Woosung as my friends. Worse yet, he seemed to think someone could only belong in one category—either your friend or someone else’s—not both. Maybe I should’ve taken more time to explain it properly.
“Lee Shin… is alone.”
His shoulders slumped as he muttered, a melancholic air settling over his soft features.
“What do you mean alone? You’re my friend too.”
I ruffled his disheveled hair, replying firmly. I had never said something so direct to anyone before—not even Min Yugeon—so it made my face feel hot.
But Lee Shin shook his head, undeterred by my awkwardness.
“No. Not a friend.”
“….”
I looked down at his hand, still tightly clutching my wrist like a stubborn child refusing to let go.
He lived in isolation, only interacting with the person assigned to him—me. Realizing that I had other “friends” must’ve been a shock to him. He even seemed to feel a faint sense of loss.
“So what, then? I’m not your friend, and you hate being alone?”
Lifting the wrist he held, I asked him:
“Do you want to leave this place?”
“…!”
Lee Shin’s head snapped up, eyes wide in surprise.
