UR Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Maybe… maybe it wasn’t a cat after all, but some animal that just looked similar?

I-bom slowly shifted his gaze to the cat and fell into deep thought.

Nah, who knows. Something about it just felt strange. He made a mental note to look up “cats in Korea” on the internet later when he had the time, just to see if anything jumped out at him.

Shaking off his suspicions, I-bom turned away from the cat and got back to work.

He quickly ran through the day’s to-do list in his head. He needed to make breakfast before I-seol left for school, set something out for the cat to eat, call the hospital to check on Grandma’s condition, and then head to work. Even if it was a crappy job where they only scolded him, he was still grateful to have a place that let him participate in society at all.

Wallowing in sad thoughts and stewing in dissatisfaction never changed anything. I-bom was quick to accept reality, and life was too busy to hold on to regrets. So he just sighed once, tightened the apron’s ribbon around his waist, and got to moving.

“What am I even thinking about… I should just focus on making breakfast.”

As he poured the rice into an old steel pot, the grains rattled softly against the metal. The rice the health center provided was old and not the best quality, but it wasn’t awful either. There were no bugs or broken pieces, so it was decent enough to cook and eat.

“I’ll make soup and fry you an egg.”

“Okay. I’ll set the table.”

I-seol nodded and got up.

She’d been whining about being hungry all morning, but for her age, she was smart and mature. She might have seemed like a cheerful little kid to outsiders, but years of enduring cold shoulders from Grandma and their eldest brother had made her grow up fast.

With practiced ease, she opened the bottom cabinet, pulled out the utensil container, and started setting their little table for two. The small tray-table they used when it was just the two of them was something I-bom had salvaged from behind the Happy Bunny café after someone had slapped a disposal sticker on it.

“……”

Scritch, thump.

A strange, unfamiliar sound echoed through the house, growing closer.

It was the kind of sound you’d hear when someone scraped a dirt floor with a broom or a dust mop. Turning his head quickly, I-bom spotted the cat, eyes wide and staring at the siblings with a pitiful expression.

Why are you two eating while I get nothing?—that was exactly the kind of look he was giving.

“Weyaaaaooooouuuuuung.”

A long, drawn-out howl filled the room. It sounded a little like a fussy baby whining, or maybe a female cat yowling in heat.

“Oh—cat food.”

Startled, I-bom smacked his palm against his forehead. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the cat—he’d just been so caught up in the morning rush that he figured he’d feed him after getting everything else done.

“I wasn’t trying to starve you, okay?”

He turned off the rattling pot on the stove and mumbled his not-quite-excuse with an apologetic look. Weoong blinked slowly, his eyes fixed on the pot in front of I-bom.

“Food… uh, but this is for people.”

I-bom let out an awkward laugh.

“You know, right? People food and cat food are different.”

He chattered away like he did with customers at the convenience store.

The cat wore what looked like a collar, so it was probably a house pet—maybe he’d eaten at the same table as humans before?

“It’s hot, so you can’t eat this. Just wait a bit, okay?”

I-bom stood close to the gas stove.

Fwoooosh. As he lifted the lid, a puff of hot, savory steam rolled out, spreading the smell of freshly cooked rice. He turned his shoulder to shield his face from the heat, holding the lid away from the cat just in case. It wasn’t something he’d normally bother with, but he was worried the cat might get too curious and leap up.

“I said it’s hot, alright?”

His voice carried a sharp edge of warning.

“Got it?”

The cat gave a tiny nod, almost like he understood. Thankfully, he wasn’t panting greedily at the sight of human food. I-bom had heard cats were picky—and Weoong, rather than being upset, calmly sat himself down. Right at the foot of the tray-table where I-bom and I-seol were setting up their meal.

Then, as if tidying his spot, he neatly curled his thick tail around and began sweeping the floor with it. Thud, thud—as his tail tapped the ground, it kicked up gritty dust and particles from the floor. He really must’ve taken a liking to the place. Following them all the way home wasn’t enough—now he was settling in at their feet like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“…Thanks for understanding.”

Blushing slightly, I-bom met the cat’s gaze and offered a quiet thanks. His soft brown eyes locked with Weoong’s—golden-green, flecked with a hint of red, glinting like scattered jewels. Their eyes met, quietly evaluating one another, with a strange tension in the air—like a spark, the heat of their exchange unfamiliar and oddly intimate.

Do I look that strange to you?

I-bom raised a hand to his cheek, self-conscious under the cat’s intense stare.

“Oppa, what do cats eat?”

Hearing their silent exchange, I-seol got up and started rummaging through the cabinets. Their household didn’t have much to offer—a poor home with no fish, no meat, nothing special that a cat might like.

“Hmm…”

I-bom absentmindedly fiddled with the edge of his apron, muttering to himself. He’d never had a cat before, so he didn’t know what they could or couldn’t eat. He made a mental note to ask Somi at Happy Bunny later—she’d definitely know.

“Can we give him kibble? We’ve still got some of that dog food the landlord gave us.”

“I don’t think dog food’s a good idea… Oh! We’ve got milk. UHT milk.”

I-bom suddenly remembered the boxes of shelf-stable milk their landlord had given them, acting like he was being generous because the expiration date was near. He’d told them to give it to I-seol, but hey—at least it was something the cat might be able to drink.

“Kitty, you’ve waited a long time, huh?”

I-seol carefully set a plastic bowl in front of the cat. The milky-white liquid inside swayed to the brim, threatening to spill—but miraculously, not a single drop sloshed over. It settled neatly on the floor with practiced precision, despite her still-clumsy hands.

“Weyaaang.”

The orange-striped cat gave a firm, clear response. Then, like a well-trained dog, he puffed out his chest fur and sat upright in perfect form.

Blinking her brown eyes, I-seol crouched next to him, studying him like a curious little scientist. Her brother had scolded her many times, saying squatting like that would stunt her growth—but this was just the most comfortable way to sit. The result was an oddly charming scene: the two of them side by side, almost like siblings themselves.

“Eat well.”

Lifting her small palm, I-seol gently patted the cat’s head. As soon as she finished speaking, the cat, who had been sitting with puffed-out dignity, lowered his head and stuck out his tongue, beginning to lap at the milk. Thankfully, he could drink it without issue.

“Good boy…”

While the cat was distracted drinking, I-seol carefully ran her fingers through his fur.

The sensation was unfamiliar—completely different from the dogs she’d touched endlessly in the past. It was like brushing against a soft blanket or stroking a doll’s hair that had been treated with conditioner.

“But what’s your name? Why’d you follow my oppa here?”

Her voice was filled with pure curiosity. It was her first time actually being around a cat, and she had so many questions.

What species was he? What was his name? Where had he come from? Where had he been living before?

The cat, bombarded by her flood of questions, turned his head away as if pretending not to understand. Then, with a flick of his tongue, he started grooming his front paw—lap, lap—entirely absorbed.

His ears twitched as he groomed with focused dedication, and his long, graceful whiskers glinted in the light.

“Hmmm…”

Unlike I-bom, I-seol had spent plenty of time exploring the mountains with her friends, often encountering wild animals. Whether it was instinct or just a natural gift, she had a good sense for telling wild animals apart from domestic ones. Wild creatures never dropped their guard, always keeping a cautious eye on people. Domestic animals, on the other hand, barely flinched at human voices or movements.

Even ignoring the glossy, brushed-looking fur and the well-trimmed appearance that screamed “professional groomer,” the lack of reaction to people was a dead giveaway—he’d clearly been raised by humans.

Oppa totally fell for it.

“I think I know your secret,” I-seol whispered, just low enough that only the cat could hear.

She was genuinely curious. What was this cat’s deal?

His size alone—roughly 1.5 to 2 times larger than an ordinary housecat—meant he had to be a rare breed or a designer hybrid raised by some rich person. She hadn’t said anything when he started tagging along after her brother, but her keen nose had already picked up the scent—this cat had definitely been washed with the kind of luxury pet shampoo they sold at department stores.

Pause.

The cat, who had been calmly grooming himself, froze completely at I-seol’s loaded whisper.

Not missing a beat, I-seol grinned.

“You… understand human speech, don’t you?”

TL/N: UHT milk is milk processed at high temperature to kill bacteria and extend shelf life.