Because of his sharp, slanted eyes, that was the comment he heard most often. No matter where he went, there was always at least one group that looked at him with suspicion. Well, even by his own standards, he didn’t exactly have a gentle face—so there wasn’t much room for excuse.
He was fairly good at being objective about himself, so he tried not to stand out. But life didn’t go the way one intended. After a few such experiences, he realized he needed to at least be able to protect himself—and that’s how he started boxing.
If anyone asked why it had to be boxing, the answer was simple: because he could learn it for free. A hyung who had lived in the orphanage with him became a boxer after bouncing between factories and meeting a coach by sheer luck. Thanks to that, Go Hoon was able to learn boxing from him whenever he had time.
And those skills turned out to be incredibly useful. After pulverizing every jerk who picked a fight over some petty excuse, no one dared mess with him anymore.
Even the thugs had some sense of shame—they never reported him. But a few students had witnessed the fights, so the rumors spread quietly but steadily.
After that, school life became remarkably peaceful. The side effect, however, was that no one dared to approach Go Hoon first. That was probably due in part to his naturally curt personality.
Still, Hoon thought it was better than being seen as an easy target.
He wasn’t the type to be emotionally attached to others anyway, so it didn’t matter. At school, he just studied quietly. All three years of high school, he lived like he was barely even there.
Instead of caring about others, he threw himself into studying and worked like mad to earn money. There was nothing he hadn’t tried: newspaper delivery, warehouse loading, waiting tables, wearing a mascot costume to hand out flyers, car washing and pumping gas at a gas station, scrubbing grills at a BBQ joint, tutoring—you name it.
He even worked part-time as a coach at the boxing gym. The pay was a little stingy, but it was a pretty sweet gig. All he had to do was clean the equipment and the floors, and occasionally spar with intermediate-level boxers.
When a kid turns eighteen, they officially become a “child discharged from protection.” And once that happens, they have no choice but to leave the orphanage.
These days, the system has improved a bit—there are options for extended protection—but back then, there were no exceptions. Everyone followed the same process.
There was something called a self-reliance settlement fund meant to support those leaving the orphanage, but the amount you actually got in your hands wasn’t much. When Go Hoon left the orphanage, the payout was between three to five million won. But that kind of money was laughably insufficient for starting a life on your own.
So becoming a discharged youth was practically the same as being thrown out into society empty-handed. In reality, most kids who left the orphanage had no skills and ended up doing menial labor just to earn a living.
Go Hoon wasn’t much different. Even though he started working early, the money going out far outweighed what was coming in.
After leaving the orphanage, he spent a week surviving on nothing but convenience store meals. That’s when he realized how luxurious the balanced diet at the orphanage had actually been.
Even as he got older, nothing really changed. Poverty was not something you could easily escape.
The tiny one-room studio he lived in now was a place he’d found after searching desperately for days. Still, he couldn’t deny that it was the kind of space that made your chest tighten just looking at it.
Yeah. Let’s be real. Even if he went back to being human, there wasn’t anyone who’d welcome him. All that would be waiting was the crushing weight of financial hardship.
But here, all he had to do was eat, sleep, and take a dump—and Bae Jung-yoon would take care of him like he was precious. There was nothing inconvenient about this life. If he just lay still, Bae Jung-yoon would brush his teeth and comb his fur once a day like clockwork.
Sure, sometimes it was annoying how clingy Bae Jung-yoon could be. But when he imagined himself wandering the streets in this tiny body, it was horrifying in comparison. So relatively speaking, this was way better.
He hadn’t figured out how to return to being human. Which meant, for now, there was no solution. There wasn’t much Go Hoon could do in his current state.
He had to stay in this house no matter what. If he ever got kicked out, he wouldn’t be able to talk to people or do anything at all. And if someone like Bae Jung-yoon—who cared for him so attentively—disappeared from his life, then he’d be in serious trouble.
So he had to stay on Bae Jung-yoon’s good side. That way, he might at least gain a few advantages. It was humiliating, but if it meant survival, he had no choice but to act cute.
With that resolution in mind, Go Hoon was now sprawled out on top of Bae Jung-yoon’s stomach, purring as he offered up his chin to the large hand stroking him. The fingers scratched gently at spots he couldn’t reach himself, and it was maddeningly satisfying.
“Meow~”
Scratch a little harder. He let out a soft cry, and Bae Jung-yoon chuckled.
“Feels good?”
As if. He was just using Bae Jung-yoon to score a more comfortable and easy life. That was all.
“Hmm? You feel good, huh? That’s why you’re purring?”
…Okay. Fine. Honestly, it did feel kinda nice.
“You’re such a little puppy-cat.”
So now it’s not even just a cat, but a puppy-cat? Whatever. Cat, puppy-cat—it’s all the same. What did it matter?
“You like me that much?”
But that question—he didn’t want to admit. It wasn’t that Bae Jung-yoon himself was the reason this situation felt okay.
Back when Go Hoon was human, he absolutely hated relying on others. That’s why, after leaving the orphanage, he barely contacted the director. All the concern and money she sent felt like debts he’d someday have to repay. That made it hard to reach out.
He’d been ignoring his past, but that question snapped him back to reality. Seeing himself now—taking Bae Jung-yoon’s care for granted—felt foreign. The shift in his attitude was unsettling.
Go Hoon climbed down from Bae Jung-yoon’s firm stomach.
Maybe puzzled by the sudden change of mood, Bae flipped onto his stomach, resting his chin on his hand, and stared at Hoon.
“Why are you upset again?”
‘Because of you, you bastard.’ Hoon thought flatly, tucking all four limbs beneath his body. With his paws and feet neatly hidden, he sat in the perfect loaf position and glared up at Bae Jung-yoon. Watching the mix of gray and white fur clumped together in that intense little loaf, Bae let out a breathy chuckle.
Those pitch-black pupils clung to him like glue before Bae slowly reached a hand toward him. Hoon stayed still, silently watching Bae Jung-yoon’s every move.
As fingers brushed his cheek, Hoon’s eyes naturally narrowed. Despite the earlier distance he’d put between them, he now quietly accepted the touch. Bae Jung-yoon slowly moved his hand, calmly watching Hoon surrender to the affection.
“Kkongddeok-i is cute, so even when you act like a brat sometimes, I’ll let it slide.”
A glimmer flickered in those eyes framed by sloping lashes.
A while later, Bae Jung-yoon disappeared into the bedroom, saying he had work to do. Given the nature of his major, he seemed to have constant group projects and assignments lately.
‘If I return to being human and go back to school, I’ll have to live like that too.’ Watching him, Hoon could almost see a glimpse of his own future. No—his would be even harsher. He’d have to squeeze a part-time job into that 24-hour schedule as well.
‘Future me can worry about the future. For now, let’s enjoy the present.’ Left alone in the living room, Go Hoon lazed around for hours on the top of the cat tower.
His gaze drifted toward the wall clock. The hands pointed precisely at 6 p.m.
As expected, it was mealtime. Since becoming a cat, it was bizarre how sharply his body remembered feeding times. Feeling his stomach twist, Go Hoon stretched out and rose to his feet.
He leapt down from the cat tower and shuffled slowly toward the room. Bae Jung-yoon was seated at his laptop, expression locked in focused concentration—probably working on a report.
‘Should I behave and wait until he’s finished?’ The thought crossed his mind briefly, but who knew how long that would take? He couldn’t afford to wait forever.
In the end, Hoon jumped onto the desk and plopped his butt right on the laptop screen Bae Jung-yoon was staring at.
“Huh? What’s wrong, Kkongddeok?”
At the sudden interruption, Bae Jung-yoon let out a small laugh and reached out to pat the back of Hoon’s head. The touch felt nice, sure—but that wasn’t what Hoon really wanted right now.
“Myaaang.”
‘Feed me.’ He let out a long cry, and Bae Jung-yoon finally glanced at the clock.
“Ah, it’s already this late.”
“Nyaaah!”
‘Exactly. It’s dinnertime. Now hurry up and give me my food. I’m starving.’ This tiny body digested so fast—hunger struck in no time.
“Let’s go eat, Kkongddeok.”
As Bae Jung-yoon stood up and walked toward the kitchen, Go Hoon followed right behind with his tail held high, picking up the pace.
Tonight’s dinner was plain grilled atka mackerel. The warm, thick white fish flaked apart delicately in his mouth.
Kneeling down with one hand supporting his chin, Bae Jung-yoon watched Hoon eat with great interest.
“You’ve got such refined taste.”
‘Got a problem with that?’
“You won’t touch kibble no matter what.”
No matter how much his outer appearance had changed, inside he was still human. Eating cat food was absolutely unthinkable—it would mean tossing away all human dignity.
Of course, Bae Jung-yoon had tried to feed him kibble and wet food, worried about nutritional balance. But every attempt ended in failure. If it wasn’t chicken or fish, Go Hoon wouldn’t even sniff it.
After licking the bowl clean down to the very bottom, Hoon began grooming. With his leg stretched high, showing off those sleek, slender lines, he ran his rough tongue over his fur. Bae Jung-yoon’s stare prickled against him.
Ignoring the intense gaze for a while, Go Hoon finally let out a sigh and stood. He sauntered over, tail flicking, and as expected, Bae Jung-yoon’s hand reached out right away.
The hand slid down his back and tapped gently near the base of his tail. A sharp pleasure jolted up his spine.
“Muaaaang─.”
A soft moan escaped him, and before he knew it, he was instinctively arching his back and lifting his hips.
At first, he’d been startled and mortified by the shameful response, pulling away from the touch. But after getting used to it, it no longer bothered him.
Honestly, once he experienced what it felt like to be a cat, resisting temptation wasn’t so easy. The addiction of butt pats was real. He’d once wondered if this was what doing drugs felt like.
With his butt fully raised, Go Hoon began rhythmically kneading his front paws, one after the other. With each slow press and release, his sharp claws briefly emerged, only to sink into the soft pads again. A deep purring rumbled from his throat.
As Bae Jung-yoon’s fingers drummed down his spine again, the hand climbed back up and gently toyed with Hoon’s soft ears. Then it stroked his face all over—forehead, cheeks, under his chin. The sensation made him drowsy. As a massive yawn tore from his mouth, Bae Jung-yoon chuckled softly.
“Sleepy after eating, huh?”
That gentle voice buzzed in his eardrums.
Hoon let out a breath through his nose and rolled onto his side, sprawling out comfortably. Bae Jung-yoon lay down beside him, using his arm as a pillow.
Staring into those jet-black pupils from the same height, Hoon recalled the question from earlier.
“Do you like me that much?”
‘And you—do you really like me that much in this body?’ Ignoring the ticklish sensation of that affectionate gaze, Go Hoon slowly closed his eyes.
