Still, it clearly weighed on Professor Myung Jun-su that he was running experiments without telling Hyun Tae-oh. Unexpectedly, it was Chi-yu who began persuading him instead. Originally, Jun-su had planned to convince Chi-yu first, then bring Tae-oh around afterward—but somehow the tables had turned.
“I’ve really never done anything for Tae-oh.”
“What do you mean? You literally walked into the lab yourself, saying you’d find him a new drug.”
“I failed.”
“Sure, you failed. But most people wouldn’t even try when danger’s staring them down. That’s why I said you’re a good kid.”
“Then, Professor, why don’t you help this so-called good kid actually become a good one?”
When Chi-yu scrunched his nose and grinned, Jun-su let out a breathy, half-laugh.
“Ha… well, I was the one who made the offer first. If anyone deserves the blame, it’s me.”
Chi-yu’s face lit up with a wide smile.
“But if Tae-oh comes after me, you’ll have to stop him.”
“Haha, sure.”
“But it really is going to hurt.”
Jun-su’s expression grew more serious, his tone heavy. Chi-yu simply nodded.
No matter how painful it was, he didn’t care. It was for Tae-oh. And he was certain that if anyone could succeed, it was Jun-su. If it failed, then so be it. But if it worked—Tae-oh would never have to swallow the medicine he hated again. That alone was worth any pain.
***
“You’re helping with what research?”
When Chi-yu explained he’d be assisting Professor Myung Jun-su for a while, Tae-oh looked puzzled.
“Oh, we were talking about Catdog, and he said he’s researching a way to extract beastification waves.”
The project was already halfway done, so technically it wasn’t a lie.
“Ah, I see.”
Tae-oh wanted Catdog to recover quickly and go outside with them just as much as Chi-yu did, so he accepted the excuse.
“So what exactly do you do to help?”
“Well, since we can’t take Catdog into the lab, I run surveys there and report his condition in detail…”
“Wouldn’t it be better if the professor just came here?”
“He’s too busy to be going back and forth. And with other kids in the experiments, it’s even harder for him to leave.”
At that, Tae-oh nodded.
“You sure it won’t be too much for you?”
“There’s nothing hard about it. Besides, I want Catdog to get better quickly too. That’s why I want to help.”
“…Alright.”
Thankfully, Tae-oh accepted it without argument, and Chi-yu had his reason to go to the lab.
But he had underestimated it. Energy extraction came with pain so sharp it was nearly indescribable.
On the first day, Chi-yu was in such agony he couldn’t move a finger, bedridden the entire day. He told Tae-oh it was just a bad cold, but he worried the boy would see through the lie.
Sure enough, Tae-oh called Jun-su demanding what he had done to make Chi-yu sick, and Jun-su brushed it off, saying the lab was a bit cold. Thankfully, they had already agreed to use “a cold” as their cover in case Chi-yu couldn’t get up.
But Tae-oh still blew up—ranting that there was no reason to keep him in such a freezing room. Jun-su ended the call by promising to keep Chi-yu outside from then on.
Because Tae-oh even skipped his duties at the Central Bureau to take care of him, Chi-yu was flustered. But Tae-oh was adamant: Chi-yu’s health came first.
And when Chi-yu finally recovered, Tae-oh insisted he dress as if he were heading to the Antarctic in midwinter. Even though it was only late autumn, he forced Chi-yu into a scarf, fur hat, fur boots, fur gloves—and three padded jackets. Who knew what kind of logic produced that nonsense?
Still, since he wouldn’t let him go otherwise, Chi-yu trudged to the lab in that ridiculous getup—only to be met with Jun-su’s thunderbolt words.
“I’ll try to manage with what we’ve already extracted. I think you can stop now.”
“No, I can’t. That’s not enough. If one time were enough, you would’ve said so from the start. But you didn’t.”
“You have no idea how hysterical Hyun Tae-oh got when you collapsed.”
“I heard the phone call.”
“If it had only been a call, that’d be nothing. He came storming in, demanding to know why I left you in the cold, why only you caught a cold, why I stayed warm while you froze—on and on and on.”
Jun-su shook his head in disbelief.
“Just look at you now. What is this ridiculous outfit?”
“…He said he wouldn’t let me leave unless I dressed like this.”
“Hah! That lunatic. It’s autumn, autumn.”
At that, Chi-yu laughed awkwardly, tugging off his scarf and hat.
“Next time, I’m sure it’ll hurt less.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I won’t be bedridden all day again, so don’t worry. Have you started on the research?”
“Yeah. Look, here’s a sample made from the energy we took out of you…”
Jun-su showed him the research sample. At first, Chi-yu couldn’t make sense of it, but as Jun-su explained the contents of the transparent box in detail, it gradually began to make sense.
***
Time passed, and the day of the second extraction arrived. That morning, as Chi-yu was getting ready to head to the lab, Tae-oh clung unusually close.
“You actually enjoy going to the lab?”
He even followed him into the dressing room, firing off questions.
“Hm? It’s not fun. I do it because I have to.”
“What do you usually do there again?”
“Uh… I just report Catdog’s condition every day, things like that.”
“Ah, Catdog.”
“Why?”
“Mm? Just curious.”
“Since when are you curious about that?”
“Good question. Since now.”
Tae-oh’s gaze on him was heavy, searching. Chi-yu tilted his head and kept dressing.
“Actually, I’m not feeling so great today…”
He mentioned it to soften things in case he collapsed again afterward.
“Then don’t go.”
Tae-oh immediately cut him off.
“No, it’s not that bad.”
“Better not go.”
“I said it’s not that serious.”
“You just said you’re not feeling well.”
“Only a little. Just a tiny bit.”
“Then you should rest at home.”
“Do you stay home when you feel a little off?”
“You should.”
Tae-oh stressed the word you.
Chi-yu wondered if he’d made a mistake bringing it up and hurriedly shrugged on his jacket.
“I’ll be quick.”
“……”
“You’re not going to the Bureau today?”
“I’m off duty.”
“Ah, right. I forgot.”
“Want me to go with you?”
“No!”
The reflexive rejection made Tae-oh’s eyes widen. Startled by his own shout, Chi-yu rushed to cover it up.
“I-I mean, they’re busy. You’d just be a distraction.”
“Hmph.”
“I’ll come back soon and play with you.”
“And what exactly will you play?”
The word “play” flipped a switch. Tae-oh pressed against his back, voice low. His arm was locked tight around Chi-yu’s waist, impossible to shake off.
“Anything. Whatever you want.”
He said it just to escape quickly. After all, once the extraction was over he’d be too drained to do anything, and Tae-oh—who always noticed his condition even better than he did—wouldn’t make a move when he was that sick. That was the calculation behind his words.
Of course, he’d regret them later.
But for now, Tae-oh loosened his grip, satisfied with the promise. Chi-yu pressed a quick kiss to his lips, then hurried off toward the lab.
