“W-well, that’s……”
Yeonwoo couldn’t bring himself to say that he’d been calling people that since back in the Cluster. For some reason, an instinct rang like a warning bell telling him he shouldn’t. He needed to answer quickly if he didn’t want to get in trouble — but the problem was that he couldn’t even begin to guess why the man was angry.
Not knowing what was wrong with the word master, Yeonwoo could only move his lips silently.
“It’s fine, so talk freely. Who told you to say — no, who taught you to talk like that?”
Kang Sihyeon switched tactics and spoke in a coaxing tone. He even pulled the corners of his mouth up as though to soothe a frightened child — but it looked thoroughly unnatural. The cold glint in his eyes wasn’t even hidden, and it swept around with an edge that said the moment Yeonwoo gave him a name, he would tear that person apart.
“N-nobody. I j-just called him that on my, my own. I’m so, so sorry.”
Yeonwoo stumbled badly over his words.
[Didn’t I tell you to stop stuttering like an idiot?]
The moment he noticed it himself, a familiar voice followed.
[How many times do you need to get hit before you get it together? Or should I just make you mute?]
“I w-won’t, do it a-again. I’ll sp-speak pro, properly, so please for-forgive……”
“You — what the hell, you call that talking!”
Before Yeonwoo could even finish begging forgiveness — at no one in particular — a shout tore out from deep in Kang Sihyeon’s throat. Yeonwoo swallowed a gasp and curled into himself like a ball.
Unable to hold back the surge of anger rising in him, Kang Sihyeon caught himself just before he bore down — and let out a rough breath. Ha. Clearly at his wit’s end, he tipped his head back and glared at the ceiling. He took deep, heaving breaths several times over, chest expanding fully, before turning back to look at Yeonwoo.
“I, I-I really, it was m-me,”
“Don’t lie again. Where does something the size of a cotton ball get off trying to think up excuses.”
He was cut off before he could even finish.
Yeonwoo’s eyes met Kang Sihyeon’s dead on, and he snapped his mouth shut — hup! The unmistakable signal came through loud and clear: one more word he didn’t like and there would be consequences.
While Yeonwoo sat there unable to say a thing, Kang Sihyeon’s eyes suddenly lit up as though a good idea had just struck him. The man who’d been behaving as if he’d shake Yeonwoo apart at any second abruptly leaned back against his chair. The tension that had been coiled tight in his body released all at once.
It was only natural that Yeonwoo was left completely disoriented by the sudden shift. Feeling those cautious, darting glances, Kang Sihyeon opened his mouth with an air of confidence.
“Hey — I think you’re under some serious misapprehension here…… Do you really think that just because you keep your mouth shut, I won’t be able to find out?”
The card Kang Sihyeon played was a threat.
Herding a rabbit was nothing. The man began closing off every possible exit, backing Yeonwoo into a corner.
“How long do you think it’d take to comb through a Cluster the size of a beehive. A day? Two?”
As if telling him to think carefully, Kang Sihyeon tilted his head.
“No — less than half a day.”
Yeonwoo’s eyes wavered helplessly. Kang Sihyeon didn’t miss that flicker.
“And then, what’s anyone going to say?”
He shrugged, speaking in a tone that made it sound like nothing at all. Up until a moment ago he’d put every effort into frightening him — and now he was acting as though it was no big deal.
A cornered rat will bite a cat. Well — getting bitten by teeth the size of a grain of rice wouldn’t even tickle, probably — but he was dead serious about this hunt.
He had no thought whatsoever about how undignified it was that he was going to such lengths to catch a single rabbit smaller than the bottom of his foot.
“I’m just going to know about it because I’m curious. That’s all.”
Kang Sihyeon lied without so much as blinking. If he’d intended to leave it alone, there would have been no need to pry in the first place. But Yeonwoo, who had no way of knowing that, made a face that said — really?
Catching that vacant expression, Kang Sihyeon clicked his tongue inwardly. His suspicion was exactly as small as his body — it was almost laughable enough to make him snort.
“So speak up while I’m still giving you the chance.”
No need to drag it out. Kang Sihyeon extended the option as though granting mercy — and fired off one final warning.
“But the moment I find out on my own — I really will half-kill you.”
“……”
“If you’re fine with that, you can keep your mouth shut to the very end.”
As Yeonwoo’s reddened lips twitched, the crooked lift of Kang Sihyeon’s mouth deepened. He was certain of victory. Just as he’d predicted, Yeonwoo — completely fooled — was moments away from spilling the truth.
“A-actually……”
“Why don’t you stop there.”
Muksirok, who had been watching from the sidelines this whole time, cut in.
“If you don’t want to drop dead, stay out of it.”
“I can’t do that. And besides…… can you manage?”
I’ve got the rabbit right here.
Muksirok laughed softly as he played with the milk-white hair. It was a blatant display. He stroked the hair once, then twice — and didn’t stop there, moving his hand further. The eyes of Kang Sihyeon, who had been glaring daggers at him, sparked with open fury.
Muksirok made no effort to hide his contempt. This was the man who had been most loudly and most stubbornly opposed to bringing a surrogate into the Cluster. The one who had raised every possible objection, carrying on without a shred of dignity — and now here he was, acting the part of a guardian. It was absurd.
Staying true to his nature as the foolish dog who lives his whole life devoted to a single mate — had he already gone and lost his heart to someone who was supposed to be used for the Cluster’s survival and prosperity? Handing over the leash to the very one who should be kept on one — it was almost funny. As ever, there wasn’t a shred of the quality it took to lead a Cluster to be found anywhere on him.
A dog suited guarding the door, Muksirok thought — and began handling the rabbit with deliberate openness. His large hand swept down the slender nape of Yeonwoo’s neck and came to rest on the finely trembling shoulder.
Even through the clothes, the lean body was entirely perceptible beneath his palm. He lightly traced the small protruding bone near the rounded curve of Yeonwoo’s shoulder. The moment the small body leapt as though it had been burned, Kang Sihyeon — who had been watching with bloodshot eyes — reacted instantly.
“You — shameless son of a bitch, get your hands off him right now!”
“The dog here is you, not me. If you’ve got that much energy to spare, go outside and run around naked.”
Unlike Kang Sihyeon, who had not a trace of composure left, Muksirok was completely unhurried — with the rabbit still in his arms. Kang Sihyeon’s eyes flashed as though he was about to lunge and seize him by the collar at any moment, but in the end he didn’t move. Catching the sight of those round eyes watching him with wariness, he even showed a flash of something that looked like being struck by emotion.
The tide had turned decisively on one side, and the balance of the situation had shifted entirely the other way. A moment later, Kang Sihyeon stiffened his mouth and dropped back into his seat with an irritable jerk.
Having confirmed that things had settled, the staff set the table with the dishes. Muksirok, who had never stopped making a show of his prize, finally withdrew his hand. As the warmth that had grown familiar in such a short time left him, Yeonwoo looked up at Muksirok — both cheeks flushed pink. He seemed to catch himself and flinched, quickly lowering his head again — but not before it happened.
Muksirok smirked. If he’d been this endearing earlier, he would have helped him sooner.
Well — this was a first, so it was the expected result. Leaving the rabbit to be cornered had been a deliberate choice. He’d needed to make it clear who Yeonwoo should be leaning on. If he kept showing him, again and again, who it was that protected him when he was being driven into a corner — eventually Yeonwoo would reach out on his own.
Thanks to Kang Sihyeon willingly casting himself as the villain, Muksirok — who had no need to rush — lifted Yeonwoo from his arms and set him down on the chair beside him. He smoothed down his clothes with careful, attentive hands, and Yeonwoo wriggled his small fingers, completely at a loss for what to do. Meanwhile, the suit that had been without a single crease was now thoroughly wrinkled.
Not noticing any of that, Yeonwoo was too preoccupied with trying to hide his face. It was the first time he had ever experienced a gentle touch. It wasn’t rough. It didn’t hurt. If anything……
It tickled.
Every time the man touched him, his fingertips tingled and his toes curled in on their own. His breath grew short, and his face felt numb — as though he’d been slapped. On top of that, a tingling ran down his spine, and he’d barely managed, more than once, to keep his tail from popping out.
Strange.
It was a sensation he’d never felt before, and he had no idea whether this was normal. On the off chance it might give something away, Yeonwoo stole a glance at Muksirok. The man sat with a blank expression, posture perfectly composed. He didn’t look like he was forcing himself to hold back the way Yeonwoo was — he genuinely seemed completely unaffected.
[Stupid idiot — you still can’t do what a seven-year-old can? Do you need to get hit before you get your head straight?]
His hyung’s voice surfaced in his mind.
Between what his hyung had always said and the sight of the man sitting so neatly across from him — so unlike himself — it only became more certain. The sensation he was feeling right now was not a normal reaction.
Yeonwoo, having arrived at the wrong answer — that it was his own fault for being defective — studied Muksirok once more. The man was looking straight ahead. Confirming that, Yeonwoo quietly patted his own head and backside, as though checking.
Thank goodness.
If his tail had slipped out because he couldn’t hold it in — that would have been catastrophic. There had been a time when he’d had to get hit every single day because no matter how hard he tried, his ears and tail wouldn’t go in properly — but now that it came to it, he found himself glad he’d been made to learn that way.
His hyung had been right after all — act stupidly, and you deserved to get hit.
Don’t ruin this.
Yeonwoo reined in the foolishly loosened thoughts inside him. He was in the middle of reminding himself, again and again, of the grace the Cluster had shown him. Just as he did — as though to interrupt him — a faint sweetness drifted in through his nose.
Yeonwoo, who had been staring down at nothing but his own knees, lifted his head as if in a trance. What filled his vision was a table set from end to end with colorful food. Yeonwoo’s eyes went wide and round. So much food he’d never seen before in his life, all laid out at once. The shapes and colors were so beautiful that it felt less like looking at food and more like looking at a flower garden.
“Once you’ve finished this, I’ll serve you more.”
Muksirok moved Yeonwoo’s portion of carrot porridge a little closer to him as he spoke. It was already within easy reach — but Muksirok didn’t let it pass without doing something. This was a rabbit who startled like a spring at even the smallest sound, and there was hot food scattered here and there across the table. The chances of him accidentally knocking something over and scalding himself looked quite high.
Muksirok was in the middle of debating whether to pull Yeonwoo back into his arms.
“I, I’m f-fine……”
Yeonwoo, who had been leaning so far toward the table it looked like he might fall in, drew his body back.
