My eyes flew open wide as I froze in place. When Lee Shin pulled me into a tight embrace, a breath of heat brushed against the nape of my neck. He must’ve been moving around so much that his body temperature naturally spiked.
Instinctively, I hunched my shoulders and grabbed onto Lee Shin’s forearms. He was holding me so tightly it was almost painful.
“Wait, let go of me for a sec—”
“No.”
“…!”
Without another word, Lee Shin hoisted me up like baggage and began striding forward. My vision shook violently, making me blink.
He roughly laid me down on the bed and immediately nestled in beside me. The bed was small enough that lying together meant being pressed up close, but even considering that, our bodies were far too entangled. His warmth wasn’t just comforting—it radiated through the fabric like heat.
Staring blankly at the ceiling, I finally turned to look at Lee Shin. Lying on his side facing me, his gaze never left mine. His expression wasn’t threatening, but the mood had shifted drastically from before.
“Suho, you kept not coming.”
His voice was slow, deliberate.
“Over and over… I thought you’d never come again.”
His pitch-black eyes, locked onto mine, glistened oddly. Looking closer, there was something akin to fear gathering there.
“Lee Shin.”
My heart sank with a thud.
“I’m the one responsible for you until you leave this place. Why would I ever neglect you?”
“……”
“I didn’t choose not to come this time… I couldn’t come.”
I expected some kind of confused reaction, but instead, Lee Shin’s gaze simply settled on my cheek. His fingers brushed it with a touch that tried, in its own way, to be gentle.
“You got hurt?”
I nodded in silence.
I didn’t want to go into detail. It wasn’t something to casually share with anyone, and besides, this kid would one day leave this observation room and live among the ship’s residents. I didn’t want to sour his view of the world by feeding him stories of crime and violence.
“So stay next to me.”
Suddenly, Lee Shin leaned in, bringing our faces close. I lifted my eyes to meet his. His warm breath grazed the tip of my nose.
“I’ll make sure Suho doesn’t get hurt.”
“……”
“Suho won’t be in pain.”
His voice brimmed with certainty, leaving me speechless. His large hand slid around my waist and pulled me tightly against him. Oof. My face was buried in his soft, broad chest. I reflexively moved to push him away—but stopped.
I could feel the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.
“…Lee Shin.”
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes.
Dragged into an unfamiliar place, surrounded by strange things and people, it was only natural for him to cling to the one person he could communicate with. But I’d overlooked that, treating Lee Shin’s emotional state too lightly. I felt ashamed for being the one who made him feel so insecure.
The way he clung to me now, flaunting his usefulness just to keep me from leaving again, pierced something deep inside me.
“I can’t stay here all the time. There are things I have to do.”
Lee Shin clamped his mouth shut.
“But I’ll make you a promise.”
I raised a hand and gently ran my fingers through his hair. It was a mess—no one had taken care of it in days.
“As long as you need me, I’ll be right here with you.”
It sounded dramatic, but in truth, the promise wasn’t anything special. As long as he was at the research facility, I’d continue to be his point of contact. Even if he left and became a resident, I’d help him adjust.
Still, my words seemed to ease him a little. The frantic rhythm of his heart began to settle into something calmer. I could feel it—his heartbeat pulsing faintly through our touching bodies, a quiet window into his state of mind.
Still holding me close, Lee Shin quietly accepted my touch.
***
Lee Shin didn’t really know the circumstances of his birth or the environment he had come from. His memories began from the moment he and his one and only older sister were sprinting down a steep path.
Monsters driven by hunger never stopped moving. The moment they caught the scent of a human, pursuit was as inevitable as breathing. For the siblings who survived by hiding in trees, abandoned buildings, or sometimes even earthen burrows, there was no such thing as a fixed home. Lee Shin didn’t know what a “home” was.
It wasn’t even a word he was familiar with to begin with.
“Why weren’t you eating? Aren’t you hungry?”
The human who stroked his hair had been the first to teach him the concept of home. A safe haven where there was no risk of being hunted by monsters—this ship. Though each resident had their own living space inside, the entire vessel itself was a massive shared home. And now, Lee Shin was told, he was one of the people who lived in this house called the ship.
…He had been so terrified when he first arrived.
Suddenly surrounded by beings of his own kind—whom he had never even seen before, save for his sister—they attacked him en masse, restrained him, and loaded him onto a strange object that flew into the air. That moment had become one of the most unforgettable memories of his life.
Strange beings, an unfamiliar environment, and the feeling of being controlled. Consumed by intense wariness and rage, Lee Shin had defined every human on the ship as an enemy. They had used force to bring him here, locked him in a space with no way out—it was impossible to see them as anything close to friendly.
When he first met Seo Suho, Lee Shin had been too busy pounding on the walls, determined to shatter the barriers, to take any real notice of him. All he registered was that this person stood amicably beside the monster-like man who had practically subdued him alone.
But on the day he learned the name of the person in the white coat, who frowned and watched him with evident concern—everything changed.
Because that was the name his friend, left behind on the surface, had written into the dirt every single day.
…! Grrrr!
KWAANG!
It had happened after he’d surfaced from the sea, collecting uncontaminated seaweed.
A thunderous crash—like an explosion—shook the air, making the sea churn violently nearby. Though startled, Lee Shin wasn’t afraid. Such unexpected situations were part of his daily life. Calmly, he approached the source of the blast.
Peering from between the dense bushes, he saw something unbelievable.
A massive beast lay sprawled out like a corpse.
…!
Its body, covered in grotesque wounds and bound in bizarre restraints Lee Shin had never seen before, was a pitiful sight. He briefly wondered if it had fallen from somewhere, but the sky above was clear.
Tilting his head, puzzled, he cautiously moved closer to the beast.
Despite being soaked in blood, the mane flowing from its body gave off an extraordinary aura. Lee Shin had seen countless monsters in his time, but none had possessed the same majestic and breathtaking presence as this one.
He debated whether to kill the beast or not.
Sometimes, when a monster looked weak or injured, he would kill it to use its hide and blood for survival. The scent of his own kind would often deter other monsters from approaching.
…Grrrk, grrrrr…
Just as Lee Shin approached, the beast’s eyes snapped open.
Its gaze sharpened, baring its teeth through clenched pain, and it glared at him instantly. Its eyes, glinting with raw hostility, scanned him from head to toe.
Then, just as it opened its mouth wide—as if to roar—it abruptly stopped.
Instead of attacking, it shut its jaws and looked away.
Lee Shin stepped back slightly, staring in confusion. But the beast no longer seemed interested in him. Instead, it squirmed and twisted, examining its own body.
There was no hunger, no bloodlust—none of the typical behavior monsters displayed toward humans.
Lee Shin thought it was a strange one.
And with that came the passing idea—maybe he didn’t need to kill it. Maybe… they could travel together.
Silently, Lee Shin approached and inspected the restraints.
The beast was clearly in bad shape, and it didn’t look like removing the bindings would be difficult.
Without hesitation, he began loosening the cords. As he worked, the beast simply lay its chin on the ground, blinking slowly, watching him.
Their relationship from then on was simple.
Lee Shin followed the beast. The beast ignored him.
Other monsters would often charge at Lee Shin, only to stop in confusion when he hid within the beast’s thick mane.
There were a few who still attacked regardless, but in those moments, the beast flew into a rage and unleashed brutal vengeance on anyone who touched him.
Over time, Lee Shin grew used to the convenience of having the beast around.
As its appearance had suggested, the beast was incredibly powerful.
He no longer needed to flee constantly.
All he had to do was stay near the beast, and it would handle the rest.
The comfort it provided was indescribable.
Occasionally, the beast would look at him and lick its lips, but it never actually harmed him, and so the peace between them continued for a long time.
…?
Lee Shin had often seen the beast scratching the ground with its claws.
At first, he thought it was just grooming behavior, something all monsters did, and didn’t pay it much mind.
But one day, he looked closer—and realized the beast was writing something.
Though he had never formally learned to read or write, he at least knew what letters were. His sister, long gone, had once taught him that much.
Seo Suho.
…Seo Suho.
Lee Shin etched the three letters deep into his memory.
He didn’t know if the beast was longing for someone, or trying not to forget them—but it had engraved those characters into the earth with a deliberate, almost desperate intensity.
