“You must’ve been starving. Look at you eat.”
The sight of the cat eating so eagerly instantly swept away any petty feelings he’d had. With a faint smile, Go Hoon watched the little thing lap away with all its might. The chomp chomp of its enthusiastic chewing continued without pause.
“Slow down, idiot. You’re gonna get sick at this rate. No one’s gonna steal your food.”
It might’ve been more comfortable for the cat if he stepped away, but just in case, he figured it’d be better to stay until it finished eating. After all, there were bastards out there like Choi Joo-won who’d have no problem messing with a street cat.
“Is it tasty?”
Back when he was a cat, he used to curse out Bae Jung-yoon and Choi Joo-won for talking to him like this. But now that he was in the same situation, he was doing the exact same thing. Maybe trying to talk to an animal that can’t speak was just a built-in human instinct.
Honestly, after discovering his ability, he’d secretly hoped he might be able to communicate with cats. But weirdly, while in human form, there was no connection at all. No different than with any normal person. All Go Hoon had gained was the ability to transform into a cat.
Sure, if he did transform, he might be able to try talking to this black cat. But in a place like this—where people often passed by—he didn’t feel like risking that kind of stunt.
“Purrrr.”
Before he knew it, the cat had polished off the entire can of food and was now purring happily, circling around Go Hoon. Then, with a thunk, it bumped its small head against his leg and started rubbing against him in earnest.
The soft, warm little body pressed into him with unexpected strength, and it felt… good. He started to understand why people fell for cats so easily.
“That’s right, the one who feeds you is always the best, huh?”
Go Hoon asked with a voice laced in amusement. As if in agreement, the cat’s tail shot up vertically and gave a little quiver. From experience, he knew that kind of twitch was an involuntary reaction whenever a cat felt truly happy. The fact that he understood a cat’s mood was somehow both funny and oddly satisfying.
“Meow—”
Letting out a delicate cry, the cat kept rubbing its face against him. Go Hoon carefully extended a hand and gently stroked the back of its round little head.
The soft, plush fur tickled his fingertips. It felt a little awkward—this was his first time petting a stray cat—but also kind of amazing.
So this is what it feels like to touch a cat. Firm, but with a hint of squishy softness.
Go Hoon chuckled softly as the cat raised its head and rubbed its face into his palm. Slowly, he lowered his hand and scratched gently beneath its chin. At his tender touch, the sharp slant of the cat’s eyes relaxed and melted into a contented daze.
The sight overlapped with memories of himself purring under Bae Jung-yoon’s affectionate touch.
“Must be nice being full, huh?”
Lowering his head to get closer, Go Hoon spoke in a hushed voice. The cat’s round eyes stared back at him, all traces of wariness gone.
From far away, its eyes had just looked yellow. But up close, he could see golden ripples dancing within them. It was a color unlike anything he’d ever seen before, and it completely captured his gaze. As a strange calm settled over him, he started to feel like he was being drawn in—enchanted by the creature.
“But I can’t afford to take care of you.”
He whispered as he lightly scratched the cat’s cheek with his fingertip. The cat stared at him through slitted eyes, its purring growing louder.
“Wanna know a secret?”
After holding its gaze for a long moment, Go Hoon suddenly looked around and lowered his voice even further.
“I can turn into a cat too.”
The confession spilled out impulsively.
Maybe it was just the need to tell someone—even a cat—the truth he had no one else to share with. Not that the little guy could possibly understand what he was saying. But maybe that was exactly why it felt easier to say it.
And yet, shockingly, the soft purring that had been rising from the cat suddenly stopped. Its glassy eyes stared directly into his. As if it actually understood.
Its pitch-black pupils rapidly dilated, then contracted. Swelling until they filled the entire eye, then shrinking back to a thin line—all in eerie succession. Watching that movement sent a chill down his spine.
“What the hell…”
Go Hoon instinctively jumped to his feet. He took two steps back. But the cat simply looked up at him calmly, as if that strange moment had never happened.
“Meow.”
The black cat let out a faint cry as Go Hoon stared down at it with a bewildered expression. What was that just now? That thing had definitely reacted like it understood him. The way its jet-black pupils had shifted so unnaturally fast was still stuck in his mind—it had looked almost grotesque.
“Hey… don’t tell me you actually understood what I said…”
Maybe it was someone like him—someone who could transform into a cat. He asked cautiously, filled with suspicion. But the black cat just stared up at him blankly, like it didn’t have a single thought in its little head.
“Ugh, creepy. What the hell was that…”
Still, a familiar feeling crept in. Go Hoon scowled and started scrubbing the back of his neck with both hands. But no matter how much he rubbed, the goosebumps stubbornly refused to go away.
Whether he understood or not, the cat bared its sharp fangs and let out a long, lazy yawn, then stretched out with a leisurely motion. With the grace of something that had no more business here, it leapt up onto the wall.
“Myaong.”
As if bidding farewell, the cat glanced back once, flicked its tail with a soft sway, and then strolled off beyond the alley without a care in the world.
Go Hoon stood rooted in place, dazed, unable to move until the cat’s long tail had completely vanished from sight.
The alley, now empty, suddenly felt unreasonably quiet and bleak. Snapping out of it at last, Hoon quickly cleaned up and headed home. It had been a bizarre day.
***
The strange, unsettling events of that day soon faded from Go Hoon’s mind. With university life in full swing and his nightly part-time job, life had become too hectic for him to dwell on it.
Even on the weekend, he’d worked extra shifts at the factory at the Factory Manager’s request, and before he knew it, the dreaded Monday had arrived.
Their team meeting was scheduled for 2 p.m. Since Hoon had no classes that Monday afternoon, he’d eaten at the campus cafeteria before arriving early at the café where they were set to meet.
Not long after, Bae Jung-yoon contacted him. He happened to have the same free time and came to the café early as well. The two of them were now waiting for the rest of the group, each doing their own thing.
— He’s not picking up…
Well, more accurately, he was clutching his phone and furiously trying to reach someone.
Kim Yeo-jin had said she’d head straight to the café after her 2 p.m. class. The problem, as always, was Park Ki-cheol. They hadn’t heard from him since last night.
When Bae Jung-yoon had asked if everyone could attend the meeting, both Hoon and Yeo-jin had replied yes right away. But Park Ki-cheol had remained dead silent. That’s when a creeping sense of dread began to rise—and of course, those ominous gut feelings always turned out right.
“Still no answer from Ki-cheol sunbae?”
“Yeah. Still nothing.”
Hoon nodded with a furrowed brow. He’d sent dozens of messages, tried calling ten times. The guy just wasn’t responding.
I knew it. He was deliberately ghosting them. They’d even set the meeting time to fit his schedule—2 p.m., just for him.
At this point, Hoon had no hope that Park Ki-cheol would show up on time. Hell, why even enroll in a class that required group projects if you were gonna pull this crap?
As Hoon tried to suppress the growing irritation bubbling under his skin, Bae Jung-yoon quietly observed him, then finally spoke.
“Can’t be helped. I’ll summarize the meeting and post it in the group chat later. I’ll let Ki-cheol sunbae know separately too. He probably won’t pick up no matter how many times you call, so just let it go.”
Clearly, Jung-yoon had already concluded that Park Ki-cheol wouldn’t show. That much was obvious from his calm tone.
Hoon dropped his phone onto the table with a frustrated thud. The words Let’s just leave his name off the presentation hovered on the tip of his tongue, ready to slip out.
But he reined himself in. No need to jump the gun. Let’s just wait and see. Maybe something came up, maybe—yeah right. This was just him saying fuck you in the most passive-aggressive way possible.
While Go Hoon stewed in frustration, sighing deeply, Bae Jung-yoon didn’t look the least bit angry. It was like watching the reincarnation of Buddha—an infuriating level of patience.
Doesn’t this guy get annoyed at all? He’s impossible to read. As Hoon stared at the peaceful face calmly gazing into his laptop, his eyes drifted to the prominent scar still visible on Jung-yoon’s forehead.
“Your forehead okay now?”
Hoon asked casually. He’d promised himself not to dwell on it, but the guilt still gnawed at him.
Jung-yoon looked up from the screen. He seemed unsure what Hoon meant, so Hoon clarified.
“The scar on your forehead.”
“Ah.” Jung-yoon nodded, finally catching on.
“Yeah, it’s fine. As you can see, it’s all healed.”
“You’re not gonna get it treated? They’ve got laser therapy and stuff these days.”
“Nah, I haven’t really thought about it. Does it look that bad?”
He rubbed his forehead with a nonchalant expression.
“No, not really… It’s just, you’ve got a clean face, so I figured it’d bug you.”
Jo Seong-il’s dumb jokes about insuring Jung-yoon’s face suddenly came to mind, making Hoon feel a bit conflicted. He hadn’t meant to cause it, but the scar had happened because of him.
Not that a single blemish could ruin that face. Still, he wasn’t a complete jerk—he had a conscience, and it was stabbing him in the chest every time he looked at it.
And now he’d have to see that injured face for the rest of the semester. That gnawing guilt must’ve shown on his face, because Jung-yoon suddenly chuckled.
“Why’re you looking at me like that? Anyone’d think you were the one who hurt me, Hoon.”
Bullseye. Hoon flinched, his shoulders stiffening, and twitched an eyebrow. Was this guy always this sharp-tongued, or was he imagining it?
“By the way.”
Jung-yoon leaned forward slightly, the corners of his lips curling up.
“Aren’t you curious how I got this scar?”
