One weekend, Haein found herself overcome with a deep gloom. It wasn’t because she had once again been left in Siyul’s care.
No, it was entirely because of the curse that had been placed on her.
Had she known it would come to this, she never would’ve confessed to the Grim Reaper that she’d grown fond of someone. She wouldn’t have begged to keep her memories either.
There was a clear difference between choosing to remain silent and being forced into silence.
“What’s with you lately?”
“…What do you mean?”
“You’ve lost your sass.”
Even being feisty took energy.
She didn’t feel like responding to Siyul’s teasing as he passed by. Normally, she would have snapped back immediately and gotten into a petty argument—but instead, she just flopped onto her side in the shape of a curled-up D.
“Everything’s annoying.”
“…You really are acting strange.”
Lately, Siyul had changed his approach. He no longer tried to force interaction or get too close to her.
It seemed he’d realized that when it came to cats, the best way to earn trust was to keep a respectful distance and give them time.
So that’s exactly what he did.
Sizzle—!
Maybe because of that, Haein occasionally found herself watching Siyul in return.
Like when he unexpectedly decided to cook something like pasta—wearing an apron and handling the food like a pro.
“Wow, Kang… You’re surprisingly good at this.”
“Right?”
“A man who cooks!”
“A man’s gotta do this much to be loved.”
With a proud grin, Siyul stirred his beef cream spaghetti, which was almost done cooking.
Haein, bored out of her mind, sat primly on the kitchen island and watched him prepare the meal. Taeil was someone who usually just bought his meals, so this was rare entertainment for her.
The aroma wafting through the air was also tempting.
“You need pepper!”
Haein couldn’t hold back as she watched him plate the pasta with flair.
“I don’t usually add pepper to cream pasta.”
“…It’s better with it!”
“If you’re going to eat, I’ll add some.”
Haein pouted.
“I’m not eating!”
The truth was, she wanted to. But in this body, anything other than liquid was burdensome.
Instead, she just sulkily licked her front paws—substituting that for the pasta she couldn’t have. Then, as Siyul moved the plate to the table, he suddenly remembered something and asked:
“By the way, are you really not going to meet your owner?”
“…I’m not.”
“Why not?”
“I changed my mind.”
“You cats really are fickle.”
When Haein turned her head away with a “hmph,” Siyul shrugged, clearly not understanding.
She had been the one who’d asked him to set up the meeting, and now that he had, she was refusing to go.
So contrary. So impossible to please.
“Didn’t you want to meet him as a person?”
“…I used to. Not anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Just because!”
Haein was starting to snap at him.
She was already burdened by the fact that she’d lose her memories and had realized she was some sort of demon that absorbed men’s energy. She wasn’t in the mood to pine for anyone—and Siyul kept pressing her for reasons.
“Look, it’s easy for you to change your mind. But I already promised to set up the meeting.”
“Hmph!”
“I even convinced him to do it, and now you’re backing out. I’m the one left hanging.”
Siyul placed the frying pan in the sink with a sigh and added:
“If you really don’t want to meet him, I’ll introduce one of my other female juniors.”
“…Don’t you dare!”
Siyul’s brow twitched.
“You’re being ridiculous. Didn’t you just say you’re not meeting him?”
“Still! Not while I’m around!”
“He told me he had a tough first love that dragged on for a long time. He said he’s ready to move on now—and he’d meet someone if I recommended her.”
“I said no!”
Rrrgh!
For the first time in a while, Haein bristled, fur standing on end in a display of warning.
It was a side of her that Siyul actually liked—the fiery, catty part of her—but it annoyed him that she was reacting this way because of Taeil.
This possessive cat, wanting to monopolize her owner.
It was ridiculous that she liked a human, and even more absurd that she didn’t want him to meet another woman.
It felt just like a woman’s jealousy.
“Look, people should be with people. If you really care about your owner, then—”
“I! Said! No!”
CLANG!
The moment Haein snapped, Siyul’s brow, which had been slowly furrowing, twisted fully.
He hurled the frying pan into the sink.
The harsh sound of metal scraping rang throughout the kitchen.
Siyul hated the strange emotions he was starting to feel.
No matter how well he treated her, this animal only kept raising its hackles. And finally, he shouted—though even he didn’t know at whom it was directed.
“Then what the hell do you expect me to do?! You’re a cat, for crying out loud!”
“……”
“……!”
Haein flinched in shock, but so did Siyul—startled by his own outburst.
Before he could regret it, he saw her eyes—those familiar eyes of a wounded creature.
His jaw ached from clenching it too hard.
And then, Haein responded quietly.
“I know. I know that.”
“I’m… sorry.”
“……You scared me.”
Siyul didn’t even know why he’d thrown the pan.
He was just… furious. Fed up with the cat’s constant refusals. Nothing pleased her.
While he sat there drowning in guilt, Haein turned away and left the room.
She’d flinched visibly, but she pretended she hadn’t and walked away with small, determined steps.
Still, her tail was twice its usual size, puffed up in fright. That alone betrayed just how startled she’d been.
Watching that trembling tail, Siyul was hit with a wave of regret. Why had he gotten angry?
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
3:00 a.m.
Siyul’s soft, rhythmic breathing filled the quiet apartment. Haein sat by the window, having changed into a loose, sky-blue shirt of his.
One that had been lying on the floor.
I know. I know I’m just a cat. I have no right to be jealous.
She reflected on Siyul’s earlier anger, acknowledging that he wasn’t entirely in the wrong.
Even from her own perspective, she’d been acting unfairly.
She rested her forehead against the glass and hugged her knees to her chest, staring into the night sky.
Even though she had returned to her human form, she didn’t feel human.
She could clearly see the face of a passerby several floors below. If she focused, she could hear the footsteps of people in apartments far above.
Her senses were far too sharp for a human. It was disheartening.
“……”
Time passed. The moon moved slightly across the sky before Haein finally stood up.
Once she confirmed Siyul was deeply asleep, she crouched down and reached under the sofa, pulling out a sketchbook.
Only someone with small, delicate hands like hers could’ve retrieved it from such a narrow gap.
Siyul had bought her the sketchbook and the 4B pencil—but she had still hidden them away.
“He probably doesn’t know I hid it.”
Showing someone an unfinished drawing was embarrassing. Not that she’d show him even if it were finished.
Pulling out the pencil tucked into the top coil, she flipped through a few pages to where she’d left off last week.
A faint sketch of a willow tree appeared. Its long, drooping leaves gave it an ancient, weathered look. The tree stood alone in the middle of the sea.
Haein settled into the patch of moonlight and flexed her fingers a few times before returning to the sketch.
Scratch, scratch.
She focused on the sound of pencil against paper.
Adding shadow after shadow, drawing each leaf’s silhouette, rubbing graphite with her fingertips to capture the soft ripple of waves.
This was her skill, her hobby, and her joy.
In this moment, at least, she could forget her tangled thoughts.
As an illustrator by trade, Haein could only draw while staying at Siyul’s place.
Taeil’s house was bigger, but if he caught her drawing, it would be a disaster.
At least Siyul knew part of her secret. That made things easier.
And being able to draw, even like this, felt like rain in a drought.
Lost in her work, she parted her lips slightly in concentration. It wasn’t until much later that she paused.
“Ah… I feel alive again.”
There was a calming effect in drawing. Maybe just the feeling of doing something helped.
“Hm?”
She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but dawn was creeping in through the window.
Time to hide the sketchbook again.
But something else made her pause.
A sharp, acrid smell stung her sensitive nose.
Sniff. She shoved the sketchbook back under the sofa and stood up, sniffing the air near the ceiling.
She instantly knew—it was the smell of fire.
Not breakfast. Not cooking. It was too harsh for that.
Something was burning.
She couldn’t say exactly where, but it wasn’t far.
“Oh no!”
She bolted for Siyul’s bedroom.
The apartment had a simple layout—one living room, one bedroom.
Normally, Haein avoided entering Siyul’s room, but this was an emergency.
She deliberately made noise as she approached, but Siyul remained dead asleep.
Unlike Taeil, who was a light sleeper, Siyul was out cold once he hit the bed.
“Kang! Wake up! Don’t you smell that?”
Slap.
She smacked his cheek lightly. When that didn’t work, she grabbed his collar and shook him.
There was a slight reaction this time, but his eyes stayed shut.
“…Ughh?”
“There’s a burning smell! Something’s on fire nearby!”
“Mmhh…”
He mumbled groggily.
She debated pouring water on him. Just as she considered it, Siyul cracked his eyes open.
Rubbing them slowly, he tried to gather his vision.
“Hurry up and wake up!”
Haein leaned in close, watching him blink in slow motion, clearly still dazed.
She reached out to shake his shoulder—
And then, oddly enough, Siyul brought her hand to his cheek.
Too stunned to pull away, she watched as he gently kissed the center of her palm.
Soft. Reverent.
Then his other hand emerged from under the sheet and slowly curled around the back of her neck.
He pulled her toward him—
Brrrrrrrring!!!
“……!”
The fire alarm blared through the entire apartment like a siren.
Siyul’s eyes flew open.
The first thing he did was push Haein off him in a panic, face freezing in shock.
He stared at her like she was the most bewildering thing in the world.
Even though the alarm was deafening, he didn’t react to it at all. Just stared.
Their eyes met—hers narrowed in disbelief.
“Did you just dream about kissing a pretty woman?”
She sneered.
It hadn’t happened, not quite. She decided to be generous and let it go.
After all, she was the one who’d climbed into a man’s bed in human form first thing in the morning.
“…No… I…”
Siyul let out a dazed groan. He still hadn’t fully woken up.
“That was you, wasn’t it…”
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
[Attention, residents. This is a fire emergency. This is not a drill. Please evacuate immediately. Take valuables and exit the building in an orderly fashion. Repeating…]
Still dazed, Siyul stared at Haein. But the loud alarm and repeated announcements forced him back to reality.
He jumped out of bed, scooping her up—but she shouted:
“Grab your valuables first!”
“You first—”
“I’ll turn back into a cat. You go!”
Even though there was clearly a fire somewhere nearby, Haein instinctively knew it hadn’t reached their unit.
Her body was like a walking antenna.
While Siyul rushed out, Haein sniffed the air again and turned back into a cat.
It was the fastest, safest way to evacuate—and most natural for her.
“Kitty!”
Moments later, Siyul returned and scooped her into his arms.
As they escaped the apartment, acrid smoke trailing behind, he realized something like a bolt of lightning:
For once, he remembered everything about the dream.
Every detail.
And it hit him—like some kind of revelation.
He didn’t see Haein just as a cat.
Otherwise, he would never have dreamed of kissing her like that.
