Go Hoon calmly assessed the situation.
The most promising possibility was that Bae Jung-yoon would come looking for him. Since Jung-yoon had installed a location-tracking app on his phone, he’d likely head to the center once he noticed Go Hoon’s location.
No sooner had he come to that conclusion than the words he’d hurled at Jung-yoon just hours earlier echoed back in his mind.
“Am I just a fuckhole you use whenever the mood strikes?”
“Yeah. To you, my confession probably didn’t mean a damn thing. Guess that’s just the kind of guy you are.”
“You just see me as something you own, don’t you?”
“Just… please. Leave me alone. For a few hours—no, even one hour would be enough.”
At the same time, he remembered the look in Bae Jung-yoon’s eyes—his last expression, stiff and frozen.
They’d split after a nasty fight. Would Bae Jung-yoon really come looking for him after that? He was human too. Maybe he was so offended that he wouldn’t even care whether Go Hoon came home tonight.
Should he try calling for help from Jiji? But the cat had made it clear—he didn’t leave his own territory. Which meant asking for his help would be pointless.
Go Hoon had even considered trying to get home by himself. But this was unfamiliar ground. Could he really navigate a 25-minute bus route on his own, without getting lost—and without a phone? And on top of that, he wasn’t even in a human body right now, but a cat’s. Who knew what kind of danger he might run into if he wandered around recklessly?
Besides, Bae Jung-yoon had drilled it into his ears more times than he could count: If you suddenly transform into a cat, do not get separated from your phone.
So for now, the safest move was to stay near the phone. He’d head toward the service center and wait for Bae Jung-yoon there. If nothing happened after an hour, then he’d reevaluate.
Go Hoon glanced around. Since he had no idea how the situation might unfold, he figured he should hide his clothes and wallet somewhere safe.
Just then, he spotted a wooden board leaning at an angle along the alley. If he tucked his clothes behind that, no one would find or touch them. Grunting from the effort, Go Hoon shoved the bundle deep behind the board.
Once everything was secured, he made his way toward the service center. Avoiding people’s attention, he slipped beneath parked cars and crept through tight spaces, eventually arriving at the front of the building.
He picked a good spot. Since the tracking app likely didn’t provide floor-level accuracy, he figured it was best to watch from outside.
He settled at a distance where he had a clear view of the entrance. All he could do now was wait—and hope that Bae Jung-yoon would show up.
***
A month ago, during summer break, Bae Jung-yoon had attended a counseling session. There wasn’t any specific reason. It was more like an annual tradition.
It had been nearly seven years since he began receiving regular at-home sessions with a professional counselor. His maternal grandfather was the worrying type—especially when it came to his grandson’s mental state.
There was always a certain sharpness in the old man’s gaze, like he was staring at a time bomb he couldn’t predict. Whenever Jung-yoon faced him, he honestly couldn’t help but find it laughable.
The only reason his grandfather even pretended to care was because Jung-yoon was his sole blood relative—the only one to carry on the family line. Actually—let’s correct that. Did the man even consider him a person? Bae Jung-yoon wasn’t sure.
The sessions were always held at the family home. The counselor would usually ask the same questions—how he was feeling, whether anything unusual had happened lately.
And each time, Bae Jung-yoon gave the same kinds of answers—just the sort of emotions any ordinary person might feel in daily life. After years of sessions, he’d learned how to respond just enough to seem normal.
But that day was different. In the middle of their usual dull exchange, Jung-yoon impulsively asked a question.
“Have you ever thought about killing someone?”
Odd as it might sound, Bae Jung-yoon had never seriously wanted to kill anyone—not even the ones who’d ended up bleeding because of him.
It had always been in the heat of the moment. His body moved before he even had time to think. By the time he realized what he was doing, the other person was already on the ground, bleeding.
Most of the violence he committed was impulsive. But it wasn’t driven by a desire to kill—just a way to vent his frustration.
But lately, something had changed. Whenever he looked at Go Hoon, strange urges would occasionally rise to the surface. He’d catch himself wondering what might happen if he kept squeezing that throat—if he kept cutting off that breath.
How had the therapist reacted to the question? He seemed momentarily caught off guard. It was rare for Jung-yoon to be the one initiating such direct questions.
“Well… I’ve imagined that about people I truly hated or despised. But do you know what made you think about something like that?”
The surprise lasted only a second before the counselor’s professional instincts kicked in. He asked Jung-yoon what might have led to such a thought.
But Jung-yoon had no easy answer.
It wasn’t that he hated Go Hoon—not at all. If anything, it was the opposite. He liked him. His body, his eyes, his every reaction fascinated him.
One thing was clear—he didn’t know what any of it meant.
Why was he drawn to Go Hoon? What exactly about him was so compelling? Where had it all started? Was it simply because Go Hoon had once been his pet cat? And more importantly, why did he occasionally feel an overwhelming urge to kill him?
Back then, Bae Jung-yoon hadn’t been able to answer that question. And now, the question Go Hoon had thrown at him earlier felt like a direct extension of that very thought.
Still, Jung-yoon had no answer. He hadn’t found one yet. What had he been thinking when he met Go Hoon’s gaze?
“Jung-yoon, be careful with the ones who say they love you.”
“They’re all liars.”
“Liars.”
A soft voice suddenly whispered in his ear.
As that voice filled his head, he felt a sudden tightness in his chest—like his breath had been cut off. His hand, still gripping Go Hoon’s arm, clenched tighter without realizing it.
Then, as he stood there dazed, watching Go Hoon’s retreating back, he snapped out of it and ran after him—but it was too late.
Go Hoon was already gone.
He instinctively reached for his phone to open the tracking app, but his hand stopped mid-motion.
“You just see me as something you own, don’t you?”
Bae Jung-yoon hesitated—something rare for him.
Instead of launching the app, he turned around and walked away. He rushed back to the parking lot and drove home as fast as he could—but as expected, Go Hoon wasn’t there.
The truth was, what he really wanted to ask when he grabbed Go Hoon’s arm had been something else entirely.
Aren’t you curious what I talked about with Kang Soo-yeon?
That was what he’d wanted to bring up.
She had been waiting for him in front of the department building. At first, he hadn’t even noticed her. If she hadn’t stepped out and blocked his path, he probably would’ve walked right past her.
“Why haven’t you been answering my calls lately?”
She sounded accusatory, like she was being denied something rightfully hers. And to Bae Jung-yoon, that was just plain annoying.
“Sorry, Soo-yeon. I’m a little busy right now. Let’s talk later, okay?”
By then, Go Hoon had probably already arrived at the parking lot and was waiting for him.
Jung-yoon tried to walk past her, but Soo-yeon didn’t seem ready to let him go. She followed behind and, once they reached a quieter path, grabbed his arm.
“How could you do this to me?”
Her eyes sharpened as she threw the question at him.
Exhaling slowly, Bae Jung-yoon responded in a calm, gentle voice.
“What did I do?”
“…What?”
She looked genuinely taken aback.
He smiled faintly at her confusion.
“I’ve just been caught up with job applications and stuff, so I haven’t been in touch. That’s all.”
Why did people always jump to conclusions just because someone treated them a little kindly? Always assuming it meant something more.
“Soo-yeon, we’re just friends.”
Her lips trembled slightly.
And right at that moment, Go Hoon appeared.
He popped up between the two of them, acting uncharacteristically flustered, and pulled Jung-yoon away. Soo-yeon yelled something after them, but they didn’t stop walking.
Trailing behind Go Hoon, Bae Jung-yoon twitched the corner of his lips. The irritation he’d felt earlier at running into Soo-yeon had completely faded—and oddly enough, he felt good.
A smile spread across his face without him realizing it.
If Go Hoon had asked why he was smiling, he might’ve just told him the truth.
But Go Hoon never looked back at him.
On impulse, Jung-yoon had pressed his lips to Go Hoon’s fingers.
A second later, an unpleasant smell hit his nose, snapping him out of it. The words that escaped his mouth weren’t the ones that had been circling in his head.
He’d bitten his tongue, and it stung sharply.
How did one calm someone down when they were this angry? He couldn’t remember.
He’d never been this emotionally shaken before. He was definitely flustered.
Why?
Was it because there had been something different in Go Hoon’s eyes when he looked at him?
Bae Jung-yoon suddenly found himself wanting to ask. To dig deeper and find out. But not now—not yet.
“Just… please. Leave me alone. For a few hours—no, even one hour would be enough.”
Go Hoon’s pleading words resurfaced.
Right now, the best thing he could do was give him time to cool off. Pushing him in this state would only make things worse.
So Bae Jung-yoon sat down quietly and waited.
His dark eyes fixed on the ticking clock, perfectly still. Just one hour. He would wait exactly one hour. If Go Hoon came home before that, he’d be grateful beyond words.
If not… then he would move.
Tick, tick, tick.
The ticking of the second hand echoed through the living room.
When the minute hand completed a full circle and the second hand pointed at the twelve, Bae Jung-yoon abruptly stood up.
He grabbed his phone and called Go Hoon.
No answer.
Only a pre-recorded message played: the phone had been turned off.
…Turned off?
Bae Jung-yoon froze. Completely still, not even blinking. Then he launched the tracking app.
Even if the phone was off, it would still have the data from before it shut down.
His eyes narrowed as he read the final recorded location. About fifteen minutes away by car.
What was Go Hoon doing all the way over there?
“You just see me as something you own, don’t you?”
Go Hoon’s voice echoed in his ears again.
Grabbing his car keys, Bae Jung-yoon started moving—fast.
A sharp, gut-level instinct cut through his brain like a blade.
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
