Chapter Text
“I spit on the fact
that Homer and Ovid didn’t create
soot-covered with pox
men like us all.”Vladimir Maiskovski, A Cloud In Trousers
Noise, crowds, warm weather. It all used to excite him.
At the time, though, Wonsik tried his best not to be too vulnerable, and failed.
Sunlight reached his windows and he gradually opened his eyes, stretching his entire body and slowly yawning. Upon seeing some eye makeup smeared on his hand, Wonsik licks it clean.
The dog, stirred by the activity, comes through the door running, ready to join Wonsik on the comfortable bed. It’s sudden, too sudden. As soon as his paws reached the duvets, the man jumped, startled, ending up awkwardly sprawled on the floor.
“Great, Butt,” Wonsik said more to himself than to his dog. Butt barked and Wonsik knew what happened. Daring to check, because it might be ok, today might be one of the easy days , he brought his right hand to his head and figured that no, it wasn’t going to be an easy day.
Butt was still barking, as he often was when it happened. Wonsik could feel all of it now. It’s uncomfortable, having a tail partially under his very human weight—and the ears. He groaned and, out of frustration, rolled on the floor a little.
Wonsik pondered on his best option, which was a slightly warm bath and meditation to leave him in a blank state. He had trouble hiding the bigger aspects of it when they were results of something so out of his control, like a fright. A couple of months earlier he was told it wouldn’t be that hard, and the way he actually believed was a big source of headaches.
❀
“There’s no turning back,” the witch confessed to him, showing no guilt. “You’ll manage. You’ll take back control, mostly.”
Wonsik looked at the guy, thought about how daring he must be to barely offer comfort after turning a life upside down. Feeling small, too small for someone next to a scrawny man with a bowl cut and stupid clothes, Wonsik could feel all of his sparse body hair standing up.
“Would you, maybe,” he tried after gathering his thoughts. “Just tell me why?”
The witch laughed hard and sincere.
“You and your dog really pestered my family, and I thought I could make you learn,” the witch told Wonsik, then started to take off his own shoes.
Wonsik was still lost, hoping for the possibility of a life-like dream, barely able to look at the other person’s eyes. “I could fight,” he thought, before realizing he had never fought anyone in his life. He looked at the bowl-cut witch—and accepted it. Wonsik was a pacifist.
“Please leave exactly from where you got in,” were the witch’s last words before taking off his last piece of clothing and getting much smaller, much more colorful — a bird, Wonsik noticed, before his pupils betrayed him and he could only see the blurry mess of it flying through the window.
❀
Calming Butt down was very important at this point, but Wonsik had difficulty doing it first in the morning because of how energic the dog was. He needed help if he wanted to go through his daily responsibilities.
Wonsik currently has shared his new secret with just one person, who really didn’t mind, as long as Wonsik didn’t get whiny because of the recent, annoying and evergrowing touch starve.
“Listen,” he insisted on the phone. “Bin, please,” he begs, all of his senses on overdrive while he tries not to show off any more feline behavior next to his dog.
“You know I always do my best,” his friend Hongbin said calmly. “But not today, Shik. You know I need to play—are you howling right now?”
“I don’t know! I am stressed!”
Hongbin sighed.
“Come on, you’ve been worse,” he told Wonsik, recalling the day he found out. His friend had been curled up and sulky because of trouble when instinctively trying to hunt insects—Wonsik hated insects. “You thought you’d want to walk on all fours—”
“Yeah, we agreed to not mention that again. Hope you win this thing and take me out for drinks, I’m hanging up,” says Wonsik, knowing Hongbin would get mad because it’s just the beginning of the tournament and not in it for the money.
It couldn’t be real, yet it was. Wonsik, who didn’t own a car , had to go all the way to his pupil’s house — his pupil’s parent’s house — because the entire crew decided their little studio didn’t have enough fresh air . Wonsik, who currently could feel his furry cat tail touching his own back.
He sucks it up, though, because it was likely that starting off his day and living as there was nothing going on would override the feline-Wonsik with his very human self.
Baggier clothes did the job with the tail, even if it felt like hell. A brimmed beret helped with the very soft and very black ears. He didn’t bother looking especially good because if anything happened out there and he had to walk on all fours or leave his clothes behind, he wouldn’t want to lose anything he liked a lot — not again.
His important possession was a small flash drive shaped like a black cat, a gift from Hongbin, who liked to be funny. Wonsik put in one of his hoodie’s pockets because he kept fidgeting with the detachable cartoon animal head.
Walking to the subway station usually went fine. If any dog got exceptionally mad at him, the owners only apologized, and Wonsik tried to accept that it was not the time to pet a stranger’s dog.
Cats still ignored him, mostly. When he felt like holding a stray kitten, they’d try to fight him, and he shouldn’t be scared, but he was.
Wonsik couldn’t help hoping every bird that flew past him would materialize into a smirking skinny man with a long neck, and say it was all a big joke, have fun being entirely human again. He liked to think that was the reason for his new obsession with birds, not his tail getting rigid and his glaze quick to follow anything that could fly.
❀
Public transport was bearable with good music and any task that made him forget he was surrounded by people. Texting helped, so Wonsik tells his friends he’s on his way — and forwards it to Hongbin, who apparently saw the message, but didn’t answer.
The subway got a little more crowded, and Wonsik instinctively got up in case anyone wanted the seat. His eyes don’t leave his phone, though, as he received a video from those he was going to meet.
He tried not to laugh too much, not to be scandalous, but Chiwoong really couldn’t dance — Wonsik found his attempts hilarious.
Not holding anything for balance, he ended up moving along with the wagon, not much bumping but actually colliding with someone. The person skipped reason whatsoever because Wonsik could feel his hoodie getting grabbed, making him join a dramatic fall.
Focusing on keeping his ears hidden, Wonsik’s house keys and flash drive scattered on the floor, along with the stranger’s fabric bag and its contents.
He looked at the stranger, whose embarrassment was clear by the pink tone all over his face, a match for his hair color of choice. No one offered to help, as they were quickly on their feet, though squatting to gather their belongings.
“I am so sorry,” the stranger said. He had the fullest cheeks, highlighted by his ashamed face. He picked Wonsik’s house keys from the floor. “I believe this is yours.”
They got up, Wonsik ready to jump if any more startled than he was.
Wonsik struggled to understand all of it, the man spoke too quietly for the entire environment. As he picked his keys, Wonsik noticed his flash drive getting put in the fabric bag.
Ok , Wonsik figured, a thief. He wasn’t the confrontational kind, so that could be ignored, like must troubles in life. But the image of his colleagues laughing at him for being unable to speak to a shy pink-haired man was all he could think of, so he tried.
“Thank you,” he said. That’s something. “You know, you have my flash drive, I think.”
The stranger widened his eyes, covering his own face with a hand.
“I can’t believe I did that,” he said. “I’m gonna sit down to find it for you.”
“It’s no big deal, you must have picked it up with all the candy you dropped,” Wonsik told him with a smile.
“It’s for my nephews and nieces,” the man answered while going through his bag. He opened his mouth to talk, Wonsik noticed, but gave up. “I don’t think I have your—this is awkward.”
Wonsik looked at the man’s hands. He had two decapitated black cat flash drives.
“What are the odds of this,” he said, all while Wonsik panicked, looking at the smallest details that could tell him how to solve that.
“Cats are something that tests my luck frequently,” he told the stranger. “Where are you heading to?”
“Nowhere really,” the man answered, laughing softly. “I just like the city noises when I need inspiration.”
Wonsik couldn’t believe someone would ride public transport for fun, but he went with it.
“Would you mind, you know,” he started, his entire body against it. “Going somewhere to figure this out? I was headed to the second to last station.”
Wonsik was ready to apologize, say please, you can take it, upload somewhere if you feel like it. The stranger only grabbed his wrist, gently, and pulled him along towards the nearly-closing doors.
“We need to go catch one to go back,” the man told Wonsik, who agreed, sort of glad his own embarrassing bad decision didn’t turn out to be either bad or embarrassing.
His heart still raced, and his hidden tail was still reminding him of his unfortunate state. He took some time to breathe, maybe to pretend his anxiety was nothing more than human.
The pink-haired stranger looked at Wonsik like he was a piece of pretentious modern art — one you aren’t yet sure you are allowed to like. Or understand.
“Are you ok?”
Wonsik nodded.
“I’m sorry I grabbed you,” he said while Wonsik made sure his ears were hidden. “My name is Taekwoon.”
“It’s fine, you just surprised me. I’m Wonsik.”
“I hope you won't mind being a little late then,” Taekwoon told him, giving an awkward smile before supporting his own figure on a pillar.
Wonsik giggled, feeling himself get more relaxed when a little away from an enclosed space and so many people.
“If I can be honest, I think you pulled me out of there at a good time,” he answered, feeling more human than ever — blushing near a cute guy and feeling his heartbeats at his fingertips.
“I have no idea what you meant with that,” Taekwoon said. “At all.”
Wonsik closed his eyes as if it had hurt, but could notice himself feeling lighter.
❀
Wonsik had not thought through. He giggled, unsure if stupid or just out of his bashful nature. After just following the wind — Taekwoon — like a leaf, he found himself taking off his shoes in a completely new environment.
A pop song played from a room, loud but in a way Wonsik appreciated. Music was a part of everything he did so it could rarely startle him.
“There’s a coat hanger here, I’m gonna go check if Sanghyuk has my computer,” Taekwoon said, directly bursting the many bubbles of thought that were around Wonsik.
He knew he was his fully human self at that moment, at least visibly, but wondered how easy it would be to embarrass himself. It had been a shaky day from the beginning.
How rude to keep on his beret full of fur stuck around it. So he took it off, messy mop of hair that gladly still looked ok with the undercut — or so he thought.
He waited anxiously for Taekwoon to come back, noticing how a white coat was stained with pink hair dye near the collar. Pink was a tough one to get rid of, he recalled out loud. Unexpectedly, Taekwoon was there to agree with him.
“I’m sorry, my roommate is in his online dancing class,” he told Wonsik, rolling his eyes. “It won’t be long, but please come sit down and I’ll get you something to drink.”
“Thank you, you are really kind,” Wonsik said, which earned him a smile.
❀
Wonsik was on his fourth cup of jasmine tea, battling an urge to play with one paper figure that was on a side table right next to him.
“I forgot to ask what is inside your flash drive,” Taekwoon mentioned. “You were really scared about losing it.”
“I’m a freelance producer,” Wonsik answered. “I’m working on something with my friends so we can have our own label.”
Taekwoon had a curve on his lips. “I wish I had your ambition,” he said. “I started giving piano lessons just so I could get out of my parent’s house but that was seven years ago.”
Wonsik frowned at the confession that felt too intimate to hear — like a thought before falling asleep.
“Do you wish you were doing something else?”
“Sometimes, yes,” Taekwoon sighed. “But recently I’ve been able to limit my students to just children — that made my life brighter.”
The genuine smile once again touched Wonsik with how delicate and sentimental it was.
“I understand,” Wonsik added. “Not the kids, I’m awful with children,” he carefully noted. “But I quit an office job a couple of months ago because—for health issues.”
His palms started sweating when he noticed the time Taekwoon took to process that dialogue.
“That was unexpected,” Taekwoon finally spoke. “I’d never say someone like you could endure a boring office job.”
“What do you mean? I’m twenty-seven!”
“No, just,” Taekwoon gestured to Wonsik’s appearance. “I hope you get better soon, even if you don’t want the job back.”
“Don't I look serious enough?” Wonsik stubbornly insisted. He knew about his attire and messy hair but never thought that’d make him look sloppy.
“You just look too good, that's what I meant,” Taekwoon sighed. “Like a celebrity.”
The roommate’s loud music comforted Wonsik, whose entire focus was on not getting too flattered and outright purring . It didn’t go unnoticed.
“I’m sorry, that was inappropriate,” Taekwoon started to apologize.
“No, it wasn’t, I’m just,” Shy. A cat. Dumb. A cat. “Just a—”
“Here you go, the class is over,” interrupted a man in workout clothing. “I’m Sanghyuk.”
Wonsik politely introduced himself while Taekwoon was setting up the computer. Sanghyuk excused himself shortly after, claiming his nose was burning for some reason.
While Taekwoon moved on with their main goal, Wonsik noticed there were even more paper figures surrounding him than he had initially registered. He picked up a crane the size of his hand, made with what looked like to be just a leaflet.
“There are so many,” he said looking at the tiny beak. “So delicate.”
Taekwoon hummed.
“Want to learn?” he asked. “I make those when I’m fidgeting too much.”
❀
Inside his hoodie’s pockets, Wonsik was clutching both the flash drive and a cat jong-i jeobgi he got from Taekwoon. Walking home was the best option to successfully avoid any more direct human contact for that day. He ignored a couple of messages, thought about how everyone must have been very tired of his behavior, how he wasn’t as dependable as he used to be.
“It feels like the ugliest scar I’ve ever had,” he confessed to Hongbin once. “And I cannot tattoo over it.”
“Can’t you?” Hongbin had answered.
He still didn’t understand.
He got home only after stopping at a take-out place two blocks from his apartment, eager to just take off his shoes and feel the texture of his living room rug. He absolutely craved twelve hours of sleep and fresh sashimi.
“Did you miss me?”, Wonsik picked up Butt. “I don’t think so, we’ve been practically quarantined lately.”
He sighed.
The tuna was a shade of pink that got him thinking about the man he met on the subway. He put the jong-i jeobgi so the cat could be standing in a counter, unreachable for the dog, and smiled.
❀
“Get up or I’m going to cuddle you,” Taekwoon told Sanghyuk through the latter’s bedroom door. “I’ll be back before dinner.”
Sanghyuk sleepily hummed something, which was enough. Taekwoon would call him in fifteen minutes just to be sure.
As he opened his door to leave, Taekwoon quickly took a big step back and went to Sanghyuk’s door again.
“Hyuk, get up,” he ordered. “There are dead things on our doorstep.”