The door behind Seo Suho opened just then.
“Suho!”
Lee Shin burst out from inside and pulled Seo Suho into a tight embrace. Caught off guard by the sudden force, Suho’s paper-thin body swayed, but he didn’t fall, trapped securely within Lee Shin’s arms.
“Why aren’t you coming in?”
Smiling brightly as he asked, Lee Shin’s eyes met Sun Woosung’s. He had clearly sensed Suho’s presence and come out, so there was no way he didn’t realize Sun Woosung had accompanied him.
The smile vanished, and his gaze sharpened with suspicion as he glared at Sun Woosung. Even letting out a threatening growl through bared teeth, but Sun Woosung’s reaction was different from usual.
“……”
Normally, he would’ve met Lee Shin’s hostility with his own icy glare, his killing intent flaring—but this time, he offered no response. His lips remained tightly sealed, his gaze fixed solely on Seo Suho.
Yet today, there was a strange shadow over his face. Lee Shin, who knew just how much life those normally dark, unreadable eyes could show when turned toward Suho, instinctively sensed something was off between the two of them.
But Suho didn’t seem affected at all. Lee Shin tilted his head in confusion.
“Let go, for a second.”
Seo Suho patted Lee Shin’s arm. But of course, saying it wouldn’t make Lee Shin actually listen. In fact, his grip only tightened, and Suho quickly gave up. Instead, still trapped in the embrace, he looked at Sun Woosung.
“Colonel, what is it you wanted to say?”
“It’s nothing.”
Sun Woosung slowly closed his eyes, then opened them again, his expression seemingly returning to normal. But the heavy emotion layered behind his eyes didn’t disappear. Suho might not have noticed, but Lee Shin, unhappy with that gaze being directed at Suho, growled with a scowl.
“You, get lost!”
“Lee Shin.”
Immediate correction.
“Where did you even learn to say something like that?”
Seo Suho’s voice was stiff, his face clearly displeased. Lee Shin slowly let go of Suho and hunched his shoulders.
From the look of things, it seemed he’d said something wrong. But he was hesitant to admit the truth—it was a line he’d picked up from an anime. Lee Shin, currently immersing himself in learning about the residents’ culture, had recently been binge-watching movies.
“I dunno.”
Afraid that if he told Suho the truth, he might lose his precious movie privileges—one of the few bright spots in his otherwise tedious education—Lee Shin told an obvious lie.
Suho let out a dumbfounded snort. It was highly unlikely any of the instructors teaching Lee Shin language would’ve taught him something like that. Most likely, it had come from something like a movie.
And Suho knew well how obsessed Lee Shin was with anime. It wasn’t hard to figure out why he was pretending ignorance and lying. What kind of movie had he even watched?
Still too early to be teaching him curse words… Suho debated whether to start screening the movies Lee Shin watched or properly explain the concept of profanity.
“Come on in, Suho!”
Trying to distract him, Lee Shin quickly shoved Suho’s back. Pushed forward, Suho stepped through the half-opened door—crunch—and looked down to find something underfoot. Candy.
Lee Shin’s place was a mess of scattered candies and clothes. Come to think of it… Suho turned and gave Lee Shin a once-over. Lee Shin obediently spun in place as Suho’s hand guided him. Suho nodded. At least now he could tell front from back when putting his clothes on. If only he’d stop tossing his worn clothes all over the floor, things would be fine.
Suho began walking around the house, picking up clothes here and there. It wasn’t much different from the lab. Since Lee Shin, who had lived freely all his life, didn’t understand the concept of tidiness, getting him to clean was no easy task. So whenever Suho visited, he’d do a rough cleanup.
“Why are you even here? You should—get lost.”
Lee Shin spat the words while glaring at Sun Woosung. He wasn’t happy about Sun Woosung interfering with his alone time with Suho. But Sun Woosung ignored him, took off his shoes, and stepped into the house. Each time his foot landed on an irritating candy, he kicked it aside. Lee Shin caught one of the candies that flew straight at his forehead.
“Grrr!”
Seeing that as a deliberate attack, Lee Shin clenched his fists, ready to pounce. But Sun Woosung leaned silently against the wall with arms crossed, his expression devoid of emotion. He didn’t spare Lee Shin a single glance, his attention solely fixed on Seo Suho.
Lee Shin narrowed his eyes and glared. The mood was a total letdown.
“Why’s there a crack in the dining table?”
Suho came from the kitchen and approached them, asking. Lee Shin scratched his head.
“The dining table…”
Even now, Lee Shin’s body retained habits from living on the surface. Any elevated surface, and he’d immediately want to jump on it. To him, the dining table felt more like a chair than the actual chairs, and he’d often leap onto it from the ground. The table had endured that a few times, but eventually, it gave in and cracked.
“I sat on it and it just—snap!”
Spreading his arms wide to demonstrate, Lee Shin painted the scene with exaggerated gestures. Watching him, Suho let out a deep sigh.
“Alright. We’ll have to send that in for repairs. But once it’s fixed, don’t do it again.”
“Yeah.”
“And today…”
Seo Suho looked between Lee Shin and Sun Woosung.
“I came with Colonel Sun Woosung because there’s something you need to sign—he’s going to be your new guardian from now on.”
Since Lee Shin still needed to continue adapting to life aboard the ship, he required a guardian who would oversee and manage him until his socialization was complete. Naturally, that role had initially fallen to Seo Suho, who had supervised Lee Shin at the research institute and personally brought him back aboard the ship.
However, Suho couldn’t stay in that position forever, especially with an upcoming deployment to the surface. While considering who could take over, he’d eventually decided that, despite their strained relationship, Sun Woosung—who cared more about Lee Shin than anyone else aside from himself—was the best option.
Even if Lee Shin ever started to veer off track, Suho figured that the awareness of being under the supervision of the very person who once captured him might keep him somewhat grounded.
That was why he had brought Sun Woosung here today, to officially transfer guardianship.
Originally, Suho had intended to explain all of this while also informing Sun Woosung about his ground deployment. But since Yeo Wonjin had already delivered the news, there was no longer a need for that explanation.
“Guardian?”
But Lee Shin still needed an explanation.
Suho placed a hand on Lee Shin’s head as the boy tilted it, puzzled.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll be leaving the ship soon.”
Lee Shin’s eyes widened like someone struck by lightning.
“…Leaving?”
“I’ll be working on taming the monsters down there. A whole lot of them.”
“…!”
Lee Shin stared at Seo Suho, lips slightly parted.
Memories of monsters not attacking Suho flashed through his mind. Having spent time on the surface with him, Lee Shin knew better than anyone that Suho wasn’t bluffing. The wonder and awe he had felt back then were still vivid, as if it had happened just yesterday.
But leaving…?
His eyebrows slowly twisted in pain.
The idea of being left behind—of Suho leaving him—was unacceptable.
“No.”
Lee Shin grabbed Suho’s hand tightly. His round eyes gleamed with defiance.
“I’m going too. I’ll go with you.”
“……”
“I followed you here. If you’re not here, I won’t stay either.”
His words were clear and resolute, each one delivered with conviction. It was the kind of statement that wouldn’t change no matter what response came next.
Suho gazed at Lee Shin in silence. It wasn’t an entirely unexpected reaction.
“…Lee Shin.”
He finally spoke, softly.
“I want you to get used to living here.”
“…!”
“No—actually, you’re already doing really well.”
Bringing Lee Shin back to the ship hadn’t been without concerns. With everything that had happened regarding Min Sanghan, Suho wasn’t sure he’d be able to give Lee Shin the attention he needed.
But surprisingly, once Lee Shin was given his own home within the ship, he’d started behaving rather calmly, perhaps because he now saw it as his own territory. Even in Suho’s absence, he could communicate reasonably with others and didn’t behave aggressively. Not that he had the kind of temperament to hurt anyone in the first place.
Though he’d heard that Lee Shin’s behavior wasn’t always ideal, the fact remained—he was attending daily lessons and maintaining some semblance of a home life, even if the place was messy.
“So if you keep doing well like this… couldn’t you try to help others too?”
“…Help?”
“I mean, it’d be great if you could share all the wisdom you gained while living on the surface.”
Suho tapped Lee Shin lightly on the chest.
“Tell them how you survived among the monsters.”
What he did each day, what his rarest experiences were, how he managed to stay alive for so long despite being constantly at the edge of death.
A survivor’s story like his could one day become an essential resource for others trying to survive—maybe even sooner than they realized.
Even allowing for a partial analysis of Lee Shin’s physical capabilities, within the limits he was comfortable with, would still yield valuable data.
