Why are you suddenly bringing that up?
Go Hoon looked at Bae Jung-yoon with a gaze filled with suspicion, then recalled something he’d said in the past.
“You said you got hurt because something fell on you while you were trying to take it down from a shelf.”
“So you really believed that story?”
It’s not that I believe it—I want to believe it. Honestly, I wish I could just erase that day from my memory altogether. Not just that day, but every single day I spent living at Bae Jung-yoon’s place.
It’s not because I hated being with him. On the contrary, there were so many good moments—that’s exactly why I want to forget it all the more.
Life can’t be lived by clinging to the past. Whether the memories are good or miserable, you have to keep moving forward.
But whenever I see Bae Jung-yoon standing in front of me like this, I can’t help but think those thoughts again. Will anyone ever love me unconditionally the way he once did, when I was just a stray like Kkongddeok-i?
Knowing full well that it’s impossible, part of me wishes I could go back to a time when I knew nothing at all.
You don’t even feel the slightest regret over something you’ve never had. But once you’ve had it—even just a little—it’s only natural to want more. That’s why I wish I could erase that day from my memory completely.
Go Hoon, staring back into those jet-black eyes that were fixed intently on him, tried to maintain a calm facade as he replied.
“If that’s what the person says, I guess I have to believe it.”
“But everyone else doesn’t seem to believe it.”
The meaning behind that was clear—he, too, had heard the rumors everyone was whispering about. Go Hoon suddenly felt his mouth go dry.
He didn’t know how to respond. Conversations with Bae Jung-yoon always seemed to leave him tongue-tied. The reason was simple—he was hiding a secret, something Bae Jung-yoon absolutely couldn’t know.
“Anyway, did you ever find that cat you lost?”
Go Hoon quickly changed the subject, retreating from the confrontation. Though this topic was just as sensitive for him, curiosity got the better of him. Was he still searching for Kkongddeok-i? And even though it was impossible, what if he actually found him—what then?
“Kkongddeok-i?”
The name he’d just been thinking of suddenly popped out from Bae Jung-yoon’s mouth, catching Go Hoon off guard. He involuntarily flinched, and the way Bae Jung-yoon was staring right at him made his emotions churn even more.
“Yeah. Kkongddeok-i.”
Saying his name in front of him felt like something stuck in his throat. But Go Hoon didn’t stop questioning.
“Still haven’t found him?”
Jung-yoon blinked, then rested his chin on one of his large hands.
“Why do you bring that up all of a sudden?”
“No reason. Just curious, wondering if you were still looking.”
He brushed it off casually, and Bae Jung-yoon let out a quiet hmm from his throat. Go Hoon, feeling the dryness creeping up again, took a sip of his iced americano.
“I’m doing my best. Sadly, no one’s reported seeing him or taking him in.”
Bae Jung-yoon explained the situation in a surprisingly calm tone. And upon hearing that, an inexplicable emotion washed over Go Hoon—relief, or something close to it.
Maybe deep down, he’d been worried that Jung-yoon had mistaken some other cat for Kkongddeok-i and taken it home.
No. If Bae Jung-yoon was going to keep searching for him, wouldn’t it be better if he had made that mistake? So why was he feeling relieved now?
Startled by his own murky emotions, Go Hoon gave a vague response—I see—and tried to wrap up the conversation with a few empty words of consolation. But then Bae Jung-yoon said something entirely unexpected.
“Actually, I think I might know where he is.”
Go Hoon blinked rapidly. What was that supposed to mean? Might know where he is? His brain froze at the sudden curveball. After a pause, he managed to open his mouth.
“…You think you might know?”
He tried to find something more to say, but that was all that came out. He didn’t understand what Jung-yoon meant in the slightest.
Jung-yoon nodded, unbothered.
“Yeah.”
The crisp certainty in his voice only deepened the confusion. Go Hoon furrowed his brow and pressed further.
“Where is he, then?”
“Closer than you’d think.”
Is this bastard messing with me right now? But no—his eyes were too serious, too sharp for that.
The piercing gaze locked onto him felt like it was tightening around his throat. Swallowing hard, Go Hoon forced out a response.
“Where exactly is ‘close’?”
There was a strange gleam in Bae Jung-yoon’s eyes as he stared back at him. Then, instead of answering, he leaned back in his seat.
“I heard somewhere that when you lose a cat, the first place you should search is the closest one. Cats are territorial, and they’re surprisingly timid, so they don’t go far.”
Go Hoon’s expression grew more twisted by the second. What the hell is he trying to say?
The way he could talk about a cat that went missing and might be who-knows-where with such ease—it felt off. Like he thought he could find him at any moment if he just set his mind to it.
“But you still haven’t found him, have you?”
You said you might know where he is. Then why the hell haven’t you found him yet?
That odd, defiant irritation rose within him, and Go Hoon couldn’t help but point out the obvious. Bae Jung-yoon responded with a faint, almost amused smile.
“It’s not that I can’t find him. I’m just giving him time.”
“…What?”
“I’m giving my cat a chance to come back on his own.”
Go Hoon couldn’t make sense of what he was hearing. He was clearly having a conversation, yet it felt like they were speaking entirely different languages. Every one of Jung-yoon’s replies seemed… off.
“I kinda think Kkongddeok-i knows his way back home but maybe isn’t coming back ‘cause he’s scared I’ll scold him.”
“…You think that makes sense?”
Go Hoon just barely held back the words Are you insane?, staring at Jung-yoon with a face that practically screamed, You’re joking, right?
And honestly, it was too absurd for a sane person to believe. Giving the cat a chance to come back on his own? Assuming he’s deliberately not returning out of fear of punishment? What kind of utter nonsense is that? Since when do cats make rational choices like that?
He was even starting to wonder if Jung-yoon’s iced americano had secretly been spiked with alcohol. But Bae Jung-yoon only looked more serious as he countered:
“And why wouldn’t it make sense?”
“Because he’s a cat. A cat. Not like he’s a genius or something—”
“Mine’s a bit different.”
Jung-yoon’s eyes flicked upward, like he was recalling something. Then, locking eyes with Hoon again, he added:
“Sometimes he felt… almost human.”
Go Hoon’s pupils trembled.
“Sometimes he felt almost human…”
He remembered those words. That was something Bae Jung-yoon used to mutter to himself every so often when looking at him. A shiver ran through him as a terrifying suspicion crept in. …Could it be? Does this guy know? That Kkongddeok-i is actually a person? That he—Go Hoon—was Kkongddeok-i?
Jung-yoon didn’t take his eyes off Hoon’s stiffened face and slowly leaned forward, closing the distance.
“He’s also a lot more timid than he lets on, my Kkongddeok-i.”
He must’ve noticed Hoon’s unease by now, but Jung-yoon didn’t seem to care. Instead, he smiled—wide and openly. The brilliant white of his teeth flashed beneath his lips, including unusually sharp-looking canines.
Go Hoon felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. But he couldn’t bring himself to question him outright.
It wasn’t like Jung-yoon had directly said anything to suggest he knew the truth about Kkongddeok-i. If Hoon panicked and confessed something, and it turned out Jung-yoon actually didn’t know anything…
As he stood paralyzed, unable to decide how to react, a sudden vibration from the phone sitting on the table broke the tension. Jung-yoon’s gaze finally dropped to his phone, and the oppressive atmosphere lightened just enough for Hoon to breathe again.
While Jung-yoon read the incoming message, Go Hoon let out a subtle sigh of relief. Does he know… or not? He couldn’t be sure. Hoon quietly swallowed the mess of emotions welling up inside.
Then Jung-yoon’s expression shifted. The playful spark that had been in his eyes just moments ago was gone, replaced with a cool, composed gaze. After staring at the screen for a moment, he finally spoke.
“Ki-cheol sunbae messaged me.”
Go Hoon’s eyes instantly sharpened. The heat surged up again, clearing his head in an instant. He’d definitely contacted Park Ki-cheol more times than Bae Jung-yoon had, and yet his own messages had gone completely ignored. But this guy got a reply?
“What’d he say?”
Grinding his teeth, Go Hoon demanded an answer. Jung-yoon held out his phone so he could see.
“Said he’s not feeling well, so he won’t be able to make it to the meeting today.”
Go Hoon’s eyes naturally dropped to the screen now being held out in front of him. From the looks of it, they’d exchanged some personal messages in the past few days. But he didn’t bother reading the previous texts—he focused instead on the most recent one.
***
Park Ki-cheol sunbae
[Sorry, Jung-yoon, but I suddenly got food poisoning ㅠㅠㅠㅜ]
[Looks like I won’t be able to come to today’s meeting, sorry!]
[I’m really really sorry]
[You guys should just go ahead without me today]
[I promise I’ll be there next time, I’m so sorry]
1:59 PM
***
Go Hoon’s eyes scanned the messages again, this time checking the timestamp. Exactly one minute before 2 PM. What is he, a broken alarm clock that rings right before meetings?
With a grimace, Go Hoon snatched Jung-yoon’s phone and dialed immediately. But Park Ki-cheol, sharp as ever, didn’t pick up.
The call rang on and on before going to voicemail. Irritated, Go Hoon hung up and shoved the phone back at Jung-yoon.
“…Ugh. Seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do with this guy?”
‘Is this what they mean when they say your fists start crying?’ Muttering in disbelief, Go Hoon seemed to be talking to himself—but somehow, Bae Jung-yoon understood and looked at him intently as he asked,
“What do you want to do with him?”
His tone suggested that he would go along with whatever decision Hoon made. No arguments. Or rather… it carried an even more dangerous implication: If you want me to take care of it, I will.
Without warning, the image of Choi Joo-won’s bloodied, wrecked face flashed through Go Hoon’s mind. ‘When will I ever be free of that memory?’
Staring into Jung-yoon’s pitch-black eyes, Hoon hesitated for a long moment, then finally let out a deep sigh.
“What else can we do? We just go ahead without him for today.”
One strike. Out of three.
Hoon: 😨💀
Jung Yoon: 😁🔪