Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Chi-yu gently stroked Catdog’s back as the little creature slept sprawled across his thighs. The research lab footage Min Yu-hyun had projected earlier must have shaken him more than he let on. Even in his sleep, Catdog flinched now and then, whining softly as he burrowed deeper between Chi-yu’s legs. Chi-yu kept petting him, steady and soothing.
Now that he knew Catdog had been created for the purpose of siphoning off his ability, he couldn’t help but feel conflicted. The thought that this tiny, innocent-looking creature might one day endanger his life made him swallow hard. But cutting ties with him was unthinkable. Chi-yu had already grown far too attached, and Catdog trusted him enough to fall into the deepest sleep in his arms.
He wasn’t the only one, either. Hyun Tae-oh, Lee Jun-hyung, Beom Do-il, Min Yu-hyun, Yoon Do-jae—every one of them worried about Catdog and adored him. By now, he was more like a companion animal than anything else. So even if Catdog’s true identity was that of a lifeform built to steal Chi-yu’s power—possibly a dangerous one—no one could bring themselves to suggest separating them. None of them wanted harm to come to him. None of them wanted to see him disappear.
Even if the unthinkable happened and Catdog really did put Chi-yu’s life in danger, they would find a way to stop it. But taking Catdog away from him? None of them could imagine it.
Hyun Tae-oh least of all. Tae-oh cared about nothing and no one except Kang Chi-yu, and if Chi-yu wanted something, he would do it without hesitation. Watching him dote on Catdog the way he once had on his old pet cat, Tae-oh had been racking his brain for ways to keep Catdog close.
Of course, Chi-yu would always come first. But even Tae-oh had grown fond of the creature.
“Is he asleep?”
The bathroom door swung open, and Tae-oh, freshly showered, looked over at him. This was Chi-yu’s room, but lately Tae-oh had been spending his nights there as naturally as if it were his own.
“Yeah. After seeing that footage, something must’ve stirred in him. He keeps trembling, even in his sleep.”
Chi-yu’s quiet words carried a note of pity. Tae-oh walked over, towel in hand, sat beside him, and brushed a light kiss across his temple.
“He’ll be okay.”
“Mm.”
Chi-yu nodded.
“But hey—could you stop touching me and kissing me in front of everyone?”
It had gotten especially bad lately. He’d casually steal kisses when the group was together, sling an arm around his shoulders, fiddle with his ear—all of it happening far too often. That old, easy sense of twenty years of friendship had completely vanished, swept away by the intensity of just a few days.
“You don’t like it?”
“That’s not it. It’s just… the cameras are rolling, people are watching—”
“So what? You’re mine. Why shouldn’t I touch what’s mine?”
“Why am I yours? I belong to myself.”
“Fine. You belong to you—and I’ll belong to you too.”
“Why? You’re yours, not mine.”
“Sure. But Hyun Tae-oh belongs to Kang Chi-yu.”
He pressed another kiss to his cheek, grinning slyly.
“And today, Kang Chi-yu’s Tae-oh wants a little affection from him.”
“What? No. We just did that the other day.”
“Exactly. The other day. Not today.”
Resting his chin on Chi-yu’s shoulder, Tae-oh let out a long, theatrical sigh.
“Your Tae-oh is suffering, you know. He hasn’t gotten any love today.”
“……”
“He can’t even sleep unless he touches you at least once a day.”
Chi-yu stayed silent, which only spurred him on.
“And he needs to kiss you every day too, or he doesn’t have the strength to—”
Before he could finish, Chi-yu clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Enough! Stop!”
But Tae-oh slipped his tongue between Chi-yu’s fingers, making him yelp and snatch his hand away. With a mischievous smile, Tae-oh captured his lips in a slow, lingering kiss.
Chi-yu couldn’t move much with Catdog on his lap, so Tae-oh wrapped an arm around his waist, holding him comfortably. Chi-yu loved those small gestures of thoughtfulness.
Even back when they were only friends, Tae-oh had been unusually considerate—but only to him. At the Esper Academy, his attentiveness had always been there. He’d refill Chi-yu’s glass before he even asked, offer a cold drink when he was hot, warm him up with his fire ability when he was cold. If Chi-yu bent to pick up a pen, Tae-oh would cover the desk’s edge with his hand so he wouldn’t bump his head on the way up. If Chi-yu was sick, Tae-oh noticed before he did, dragging him to the infirmary or shoving all sorts of medicine into his hands.
Maybe it was those countless small kindnesses that made Chi-yu fall for him in the first place. And now he could see clearly—Tae-oh had done all that because he liked Chi-yu just as much as Chi-yu had liked him.
Hyun Tae-oh loved Kang Chi-yu. Kang Chi-yu loved Hyun Tae-oh. Years of cause and effect had led them here, to this relationship.
As he melted into Tae-oh’s insistent kiss, Chi-yu wished with all his heart that this feeling would never change. But that didn’t mean he was about to give in to him now. Handing Catdog over to Yoon Do-jae tonight would feel too much like betraying him.
***
At the same time, Min Yu-hyun, Beom Do-il, Lee Jun-hyung, and Yoon Do-jae were gathered in Do-jae’s room, discussing how to keep Chi-yu and Catdog safe. Mostly, Yu-hyun laid out ideas while the others weighed in.
“Implanting a tracking chip in Catdog sounds like a solid plan.”
“Maybe, but if we do that, won’t the lab notice immediately?”
At Do-il’s concern, Jun-hyung frowned, but Yu-hyun nodded, replying:
“True. That’s why I thought maybe we could use Hyun Tae-oh’s light-attribute instead…”
“Oh, that’s perfect! With light-attribute, you can track location!”
Do-il blurted out, excited, before Yu-hyun had even finished. Do-jae cut in.
“But Tae-oh’s the only one who can use it. If we want to track Catdog ourselves, the chip is our only option.”
Yu-hyun nodded again.
“Right. Which is why I thought—what if we use a video beam instead?”
“A camera?”
“Huh?”
“Listen. After I asked my fan to record Building N at the lab, it made me realize something. Chips are a sensitive area. The lab, the Central Bureau, even the Association—they all monitor them closely. But video beams? Hardly any restrictions.”
“Well, yeah. Nobody carries those around anymore, much less uses them to record.”
“Exactly. When you pulled one out earlier, I thought, wait, those still exist?”
Jun-hyung’s remark made Do-il nod vigorously.
Video beams really were old tech. Back when they first came out—tiny as marbles—people carried them everywhere, projecting movies and videos into the air. But once phones came with built-in projectors, video beams became relics.
So the fact that Yu-hyun had managed to get such sensitive footage with one? Impressive.
“Oh, my uncle owns a factory. He’s a video beam enthusiast—makes them as a hobby and gives me a few now and then.”
Once Yu-hyun explained, the others nodded in understanding.
“Perfect. Then it won’t be hard to get more. We just need to stick one on Catdog.”
“Exactly. And since Tae-oh can manipulate electromagnetic waves, he can stream the footage directly to our phones. Even if the researchers find and destroy the chip, we’ll still know where Catdog’s been. Even if they lock him in a bunker, we’ll have the entire trail.”
“But… if we hang a video beam on a necklace, even an idiot would recognize it right away.”
Jun-hyung muttered, worried. Yu-hyun gave a short nod.
“That’s why we need to think of a way to disguise it. You guys work on that too. Chip plus beam plus light-attribute—no matter how hard the lab or higher-ups try to hide Catdog, we’ll find him.”
The others nodded firmly. If they could just attach the beam to Catdog without drawing attention, it would be perfect.
Do-il racked his brain for possibilities. Watching Yu-hyun’s sharp decisiveness, his quick thinking, his calm leadership—he found himself seeing him differently. He’d thought Yu-hyun was just a narcissistic, stubborn elitist who never listened. But no, he was thoughtful, clever, and adaptable. No wonder he was the strongest S-rank Guide. And maybe his popularity wasn’t just his looks or his rank—it was his competence, his natural authority.
For the first time, Beom Do-il saw Min Yu-hyun in a new light.
“Yoon Do-jae.”
The door suddenly swung open, and Hyun Tae-oh walked in, Catdog blinking drowsily in his arms.
“Take him for the night.”
Without explanation, Tae-oh shoved Catdog into Do-jae’s arms and rushed out. His hasty retreat made Jun-hyung smirk faintly.
“Did the baby just wake up? Choo-roo-roo, choo-roo-rooo—”
Do-il puckered his lips and made a ridiculous sound at Catdog. Normally people went “ch-ch-ch” with their tongue, but his version was unique. Yu-hyun couldn’t help laughing under his breath.
When Do-il caught him laughing, he blinked at him twice before quickly turning away, fixing his gaze back on Catdog. Jun-hyung, watching, seemed thoughtful for a moment before saying to Do-jae:
“Let’s wash him up so he can sleep properly.”
As always, sharp-eyed Jun-hyung was giving Do-il and Yu-hyun some time alone.
Watching Do-jae and Jun-hyung disappear into the bathroom with Catdog, Yu-hyun asked:
“You’re fine leaving those two together?”
“Huh?”
“I mean, Jun-hyung and Yoon Do-jae. You’re not bothered by them being off together?”
Do-il’s mouth drooped into a frown.
“Why would I be? No need for all four of us to crowd around just to bathe Catdog.”
“……”
“Wanna head up to the roof for a beer, hyung?”
Do-il turned to Yu-hyun.
