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Cresthill High buzzed with its usual morning energy. The hallways were alive with a cacophony of voices: friends catching up, lockers slamming shut, and the occasional teacher shouting at someone to hurry to class. Amid the commotion, Beomgyu strolled through the crowd, a grin lighting up his face.
His arms were loaded with binders, a precarious stack threatening to topple with each step, but he navigated the chaos like a pro. A student leaned out from their locker, calling his name.
“Beomgyu! Great speech yesterday!”
“Thanks!” he called back, his grin widening. “Glad you stayed awake for it!”
Laughter rippled through the hallway as Beomgyu adjusted his grip on the binders and quickened his pace. His mind ticked through his mental to-do list for the day: lunchtime meeting, Spirit Week posters, finishing his English project, and something about reminding Mr. Kim to check the microphone for assembly.
“Alrighty,” he muttered, dodging a cluster of freshmen as they spilled into the hallway.
“Beomgyu!” Another voice called from behind him. “Running for president next year?”
He glanced back with a laugh. “Let me survive this year first!”
It was like this every day. People always seemed to notice Beomgyu, whether it was his bright smile, his quick wit, or just the sheer energy he carried. He loved it––mostly.
Meanwhile, in a quieter corner of the school, a figure stood by the bulletin board. Yeonjun, the new transfer student, exuded a calm confidence that contrasted sharply with the morning chaos. Even in the standard-issue Cresthill uniform, he managed to look like he’d stepped out of a magazine. His tie was loosened just enough to seem stylish but not sloppy, his shoes somehow gleaming despite the scuffed floors of the school.
As he scanned the flyers on the board, a pair of juniors lingered nearby whispering not-so-subtly about him.
“That’s the new guy, right? Choi Yeonjun?”
“Yeah. Transferred from the city. Have you seen his Instagram? He’s ridiculously cool.”
“Does he even try? How is that fair?”
Yeonjun didn’t react, though he must have heard them. He was used to the attention by now, the curious stares, the whispered comments. Instead, his gaze lingered on a brightly colored poster advertising Spirit Week. Right in the center of the flyer was a photo of a boy mid-laugh, holding a microphone. The headline, Choi Beomgyu, was printed underneath in bold letters.
“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun murmured to himself, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “So that’s the guy everyone’s been talking about.”
Back in the main hallway, Beomgyu shoved open the door to the student council office with his shoulder. Inside, Mina, the vice president, was waiting, arm crossed and a clipboard in hand.
“You’re late,” she said, raising an eyebrow.
Beomgyu offered her a sheepish grin. “Fashionably late. It’s part of my charm.”
“Charm doesn’t get posters printed faster,” Mina shot back, her tone dry. “Spirit Week’s in one week , and we’re still missing half the banners.”
“Relax, Mina. I’ve got it under control,” Beomgyu said, dropping the binders onto the table with a dramatic thud.
Mina didn’t look convinced, but before she could lecture him further, the first bell rang. Beomgyu grabbed his things and headed out again, his mind already wandering.
He thought of the transfer student he’d seen in the hall earlier––Yeonjun, wasn’t it? Something about him stuck in Beomgyu’s mind. Maybe it was the effortless way he seemed to carry himself, or the way his smile hinted at something just out of reach. Beomgyu didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling at the thought.
Somewhere else in the school, Yeonjun was thinking of him too.
🩵
The student council office was always chaos embodied before Spirit Week. Beomgyu juggled three conversations at once, fielding questions about banners, budgets, and who was supposed to reserve the auditorium for Friday’s pep rally. Homecoming was the final event of Homecoming week, so lord only knows the effort they put into organizing everything. By the time the second bell rang, he was running late for his math class, his binders stacked even higher than before.
“Don’t drop anything!” Mina called after him as he pushed the door open with his shoulder.
“I never drop anything!” Beomgyu shouted back, adjusting his grip as he hurried into the hallway.
He turned a corner at full speed, his attention split between his precarious stack of binders and a mental list of excuses for his math teacher. He didn’t notice the figure coming from the opposite direction until it was too late.
Crash!
The impact sent Beomgyu sprawling, his binders flying in all kinds of directions. Loose papers fluttered to the floor like oversized confetti, scattering across the polished tiles.
“Ah, crap,” Beomgyu groaned, scrambling to gather the mess. “I’m so sorry––”
His apology died in his throat when he looked up.
The person he’d bumped into was none other than Yeonjun, the hot transfer student. Up close, he was even more striking than Beomgyu had imagined. His features were sharp yet soft, with a confident air that made him seem untouchable. Despite the collision, Yeonjun barely looked ruffled, brushing a stray piece of paper off his sleeve.
“I should’ve been paying attention,” Yeonjun said, crouching down to help collect the scattered papers.
“No, no, it’s my fault,” Beomgyu stammered, feeling uncharacteristically flustered. He quickly ducked his head, hoping Yeonjun wouldn’t notice the sudden heat rising in his cheeks. “I was in a rush and––uh, wow, you’re really fast at this.”
Yeonjun handed him a neat stack of papers, his movements calm and efficient. “It’s not my first paper explosion,” he said with a small smile.
Beomgyu blinked, momentarily distracted. Wow, his smile is kind of unfair.
“You’re Beomgyu, right?” Yeonjun asked, his voice smooth and unhurried.
Beomgyu jolted. “You know my name?”
Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, amused. “You’re on all the posters around school. Kinda hard to miss.”
“Oh. Right.” Beomgyu let out an awkward laugh, suddenly hyper-aware of the crumpled flyer sticking out of one of his binders. It was the same one Yeonjun had seen earlier, the one with Beomgyu’s name printed in big, bold letters under his smiling face.
“I’m Yeonjun,” Yeonjun said, standing up and offering a hand.
“I know,” Beomgyu blurted before he could stop himself. Realizing how weird that sounded, he quickly added, “I mean––everyone’s been talking about you. Transfer student from the city, really cool, super fashionable…uh, yeah, I’m going to stop talking now.”
To his relief, Yeonjun chuckled. “Good to know my reputation precedes me.”
Beomgyu took Yeonjun’s hand and stood up, hoping his face didn’t look as red as it felt. “Well, welcome to Cresthill. If you ever need anything, feel free to ask. I’m kind of the go-to guy around here.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yeonjun said, his smile lingering as he glanced at the pile of binders in Beomgyu’s arms. “You sure you’ve got all that?”
“Totally,” Beomgyu said, adjusting his grip again. As if on cue, one of the binders slid loose and landed on the floor with a thud.
Yeonjun tilted his head, his expression unreadable for a moment before he burst out laughing. It wasn’t a mocking laugh––more like genuine amusement, light and contagious. Beomgyu found himself laughing too, despite his embarrassment.
“Okay, maybe I could use some help,” Beomgyu admitted, handing over the offending binder.
They walked down the hall together, Yeonjun holding the binder effortlessly in one hand while Beomgyu tried not to trip over his own feet.
“So,” Yeonjun said as they reached the stairs. “What’s Spirit Week all about? I keep seeing posters, but no one’s explained it to me yet.”
“Oh, it’s the best,” Beomgyu said, launching into an enthusiastic explanation. As he talked, he noticed how Yeonjun listened intently, nodding at all the right moments and occasionally throwing in a question or comment.
By the time they reached Beomgyu’s classroom, he realized he didn’t feel nervous anymore. Somehow, talking to Yeonjun felt easy, natural––like they’d been friends for years instead of just a few minutes.
“Thanks for the help,” Beomgyu said as they stopped outside the door.
“Anytime,” Yeonjun replied, his smile softening. “See you around, Beomgyu.”
As Yeonjun walked away, Beomgyu watched him for a moment, a strange warmth blooming in his chest. He didn’t know it yet, but this was the start of something he’d never felt before––something that would change everything.
🩵
Over the next few days, Beomgyu found himself seeing Yeonjun everywhere––not just in the hallways, but in his thoughts. At first, he convinced himself it was just curiosity. Yeonjun was new, after all, and Cresthill didn’t get many transfer students who were immediately that popular. But the more they talked, the more Beomgyu realized he looked forward to their conversations a little too much.
It started small: Yeonjun asking for directions to the library, Beomgyu pointing out the best spots in the cafeteria. They sat together during a group project in history class, and Beomgyu discovered that Yeonjun was surprisingly witty beneath his calm exterior.
One afternoon, as they walked home after school, Beomgyu tried to mask his growing nervousness with casual chatter.
“So, Yeonjun-hyung,” Beomgyu began, juggling his bag and a leftover flyer for Spirit Week. “Any hobbies? Or is looking effortlessly cool a full-time job?”
Yeonjun laughed, the sound soft and genuine. “Effortlessly cool? You give me too much credit. I’m pretty normal.”
“Yeah, sure. Totally normal,” Beomgyu teased. “So? Hobbies?”
Yeonjun tilted his head, considering. “I guess I like playing with animals. Especially cats.”
“Cats?” Beomgyu echoed, momentarily surprised.
“Yeah. They’re independent but affectionate when they want to be. Kind of fascinating, don’t you think?”
Beomgyu grinned. “I wouldn’t have guessed you were a cat person.”
“What about you?” Yeonjun asked, glancing over. “Cats or dogs?”
“Uh, both?” Beomgyu said, though he immediately filed away likes cats into his growing mental folder of Things About Yeonjun.
Yeonjun smiled again, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made Beomgyu’s heart skip.
🩵
Beomgyu trudged along the quiet street after school, kicking at stray pebbles as the setting sun cast long shadows. The neighborhood felt colder today, though it could just have been the weight of the upcoming night at home. His gaze caught on something usual lying by the curb––an ornate cat mask with golden swirls glinting faintly in the dim light.
Curious, he bent down and picked it up. The mask was surprisingly light but had a tangible warmth to it. As his fingers brushed its intricate surface, a low, unfamiliar voice rumbled from the shadows.
“Beomgyu.”
He froze. No one was there––or so he thought. A figure materialized, cloaked in inky blackness that seemed to ripple like water. Its features were indistinct save for two piercing eyes that glowed amber, catlike.
“You hold something precious,” the figure said, gesturing toward the mask. “A gift. Wear it, and you’ll know the life of a cat. But beware, for within seven days, you must choose––remain a cat forever, or return to your human life. There is no in-between.”
Beomgyu’s finger tightened around the mask. “Why would I want to be a cat?”
The figure tilted its head, almost as if it pitied him.”Freedom. Escape. Perhaps love. You’ll find the answer when you try.”
Before Beomgyu could respond, the figure melted into the growing darkness, leaving him alone with the mask.
💙
At home, the familiar heaviness of the air greeted him as he stepped inside. The small apartment was dim, the only light coming from a flickering television in the living room where his father slouched, a beer can in his hand. His mother sat silently at the kitchen table, her gaze fixed on a crossword puzzle she never seemed to finish.
“Where have you been?” his father barked, not taking his eyes off the screen. “Don’t tell me you were wasting time again.”
Beomgyu swallowed hard, clutching the mask to his chest. “I was at school. Doing work for the student council.”
“Liar,” his father snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’re always full of excuses. Do you think you’re special because of those stupid Spirit Week posters? No one cares about your little performance.”
Beomgyu bit the inside of his cheek to keep from retorting. His mother didn’t even look up from her crossword. She never did anymore.
He retreated to his room, locking the door behind him. The room was sparse––a bed, a small desk, and walls bare of any personal touches. It was the only place he could breathe, though even here the shadows of his parents’ indifference seemed to creep in.
Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he turned the mask over in his hands. Its golden patterns shimmered as if alive, almost inviting.
“What do I have to lose?” He whispered, placing the mask over his face. The world tilted, the dim light of his room bending and refracting.
In an instant, his perspective shifted. His limbs felt lighter, his senses sharper. He stretched and found himself not as Beomgyu, but as a sleek black cat, his fur gleaming in the faint moonlight streaming through the window.
As he padded around his room, testing his new form, the first thing he noticed was the quiet. It wasn’t the stifling silence of his household, but a peaceful one, punctuated by the rhythmic hum of the night. The weight he carried in his chest seemed lighter, at least for now.
But when he heard the harsh voice of his father seeping through the walls, even his newfound form couldn’t keep the ache from returning. He leaped onto the windowsill, gazing at the night sky. Freedom , the shadowy figure had said. Was it really out there, waiting for him?
He decided he would spend the week finding out.
🩵
The world looked different through a cat’s eyes. Colors seemed sharper, shadows deeper, and every rustle of leaves or chirp of a cricket called to him. Beomgyu padded silently along the neighborhood streets, his black fur blending seamlessly with the night. For the first time, he felt untethered, unburdened by the harsh voices or cold indifference that awaited him at home.
He had no clear destination, only the quiet thrill of wandering. Eventually, he found himself in front of a tall, tidy house––one that radiated warmth even in the darkness. A light glowed softly from a second-story window, and he felt an inexplicable pull toward it.
Leaping onto the low fence surrounding the yard, Beomgyu made his way up a nearby tree. His new form moved effortlessly, each step sure and silent as he climbed higher, until he reached the window ledge. Inside, he saw Yeonjun.
The older boy sat at his desk, headphones on, his head bobbing slightly to the rhythm of the music. Papers and open notebooks were scattered in front of him, but he seemed lost in his own world. The sight of him, relaxed and unguarded, stirred something in Beomgyu––a strange mix of curiosity and longing.
Unable to resist, Beomgyu tapped the glass with his paw.
Yeonjun turned, startled, his eyes widening at the sight of the black cat perched on his windowsill. He pulled off his headphones and opened the window cautiously.
“Well, hello there,” Yeonjun said, his voice soft. “Where did you come from?”
Beomgyu meowed in response, hopping lightly onto the desk. He weaved Yeonjun’s arms, brushing against him with a purr.
“Friendly little guy, aren’t you?” Yeonjun chuckled, scratching Beomgyu’s ears. Beomgyu almost melted at the touch, warmth spreading through him.
“You don’t have a collar,” Yeonjun mused, inspecting him. “Are you a stray? Or just out for a late-night adventure?”
Beomgyu didn’t answer, of course, but he nuzzled Yeonjun’s hand in appreciation.
“Alright, you can stay for a bit,” Yeonjun said, smiling. “But no wrecking my stuff, okay?”
Beomgyu settled onto the desk, his tail curling neatly around him. As Yeonjun returned to his work, Beomgyu watched him, his sharp cat eyes catching every detail––the way Yeonjun’s brow furrowed in concentration, the faint bounce of his knee to the music, the soft hum of a tune under his breath.
After a while, Yeonjun leaned back in his chair with a sigh, stretching. “You’re good company, you know,” he said, glancing at Beomgyu. “It’s been kind of lonely here lately.”
Beomgyu tilted his head, his ears flicking in silent question.
Yeonjun chuckled. “My parents are away for work most of the time. I’ve gotten used to it, but sometimes…” He trailed off, shrugging. “Anyway, enough about me. What about you, little guy? You must have someone who loves you, huh?”
The words stung more than Beomgyu expected. He blinked slowly, trying to mask the sudden ache in his chest. Instead, he stepped closer, nudging Yeonjun’s arm with his head.
“Thanks,” Yeonjun said with a soft laugh, rubbing Beomgyu’s head. “Guess I needed that.”
The two of them sat together, the silence between them comfortable. Beomgyu stayed until Yeonjun began to yawn, his eyelids drooping.
“Alright, time to go to sleep,” Yeonjun murmured, scooping Beomgyu up gently. “You can stay here tonight if you want.”
He placed Beomgyu on a blanket at the foot of his bed before climbing under the covers himself. Beomgyu curled up, watching Yeeonjun until the boy’s breathing evened out.
For the first time in a long while, Beomgyu felt something close to peace.
🩵
The following day dragged on for Beomgyu. School was the same as ever––crowded hallways, hurried conversations, and teachers droning on about assignments. Normally, he would lose himself in his duties for Spirit Week or chat with his classmates, but today he felt restless. His thoughts kept wandering back to Yeonjun and the surprising warmth of their interaction the night before.
As soon as the final bell rang, Beomgyu rushed home. After a hurried dinner with his father’s usual grumbling and his mother’s silence, he locked himself in his room and pulled out the mask. He hesitated for a moment before slipping it on.
The transformation was quicker this time, almost effortless. Within moments, he was back on four paws, his senses sharpening and his body light.
Without a second thought, Beomgyu slipped out through his window, his sleek back form blending seamlessly into the night. He knew exactly where he wanted to go.
Yeonjun’s window was open when Beomgyu arrived, the light spilling out onto the tree branch like an invitation. With practiced graces, he leaped onto the windowsill and meowed softly.
Yeonjun turned from his desk, his face lighting up at the sight of the black cat. “Hey, you came back,” he said warmly, reaching his arm out to greet him.
Beomgyu purred, brushing against Yeonjun’s hand as the older boy scratched behind his ears.
“I was hoping I’d see you again,” Yeonjun admitted, carrying Beomgyu over to his bed. He sat down, letting the cat settle in his lap. “It’s been a rough day.”
Beomgyu tilted his head, his golden eyes fixed on Yeonjun.
Yeonjun sighed, running a hand through Beomgyu’s fur. “You know, I moved here during the middle of the year, but I thought it’d be easy to make friends. I mean, I guess I’ve met people, but it’s not the same as having someone who really gets you, you know?”
He paused, stroking Beomgyu’s fur absentmindedly. “There’s this one guy, though…he’s different. Bright, full of energy. Everyone likes him, but he doesn’t seem to notice how special he is.”
Beomgyu blinked, his ears twitching in curiosity.
Yeonjun chuckled softly. “It’s silly, right? Having a crush on someone who probably doesn’t even think of me that way.”
Beomgyu froze. Was Yeonjun talking about him? He couldn’t be. No, Yeonjun was probably talking about someone else––maybe someone from the student council or another popular student.
Yeonjun sighed again, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with all this human stuff. Crushes, school, expectations...it’s a lot.”
Beomgyu meowed softly, leaning into Yeonjun’s hand in what he hoped was a comforting gesture
“Thanks,” Yeonjun said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re a good listener, you know? I wish I had that with people.”
The moment stretched, a quiet warmth settling between them. Beomgyu stayed still, letting Yeonjun’s words sink in.
As the night wore on, Yeonjun eventually grew quieter, his eyelids drooping as exhaustion crept in. Beomgyu stayed curled up beside him, torn between the strange comfort of Yeonjun’s presence and the growing weight of his own secret.
Did Yeonjun really mean him? And even if he did, what could Beomgyu do about it in this form––or any form for that matter?
The week was ticking by, and soon he’d have to decide. But for now, he pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of Yeonjun’s breathing as he drifted off to sleep.
💙
The sixth day arrived, and Beomgyu’s heart felt heavier with every hour. The week had been a whirlwind of emotions––freedom as a cat, warmth in Yeonjun’s presence, and the growing ache whenever he thought of the choice looming over him.
By now, he had grown used to the sharper senses and nimble body his cat form offered. It was intoxicating in a way, to slip into the shadows and watch the world pass by without the weight of human expectations. But it wasn’t just the freedom pulling him toward the decision––it was Yeonjun.
At school, Beomgyu found himself wandering aimlessly during lunch. He had been too distracted to focus on anything all day, his mind caught in the tangle of his emotions. As he turned a corner toward the student council office, a burst of laughter caught his attention.
It was Yeonjun. He stood by the door, chatting with Lee Chanhee, the student body president.
Beomgyu froze, watching from the corner. Yeonjun’s face lit up with the same easy smile Beomgyu had come to treasure, and his hand rested casually on Chanhee’s shoulder as they talked. They seemed completely at ease with one another, their conversation punctuated by Yeonjun’s laughter and Chanhee’s occasional chuckles.
The sight made something twist painfully in Beomgyu’s chest.
“Everyone likes him but he doesn’t seem to notice how special he is.”
It had to be Chanhee. How could it not be? Chanhee was charismatic, confident, and respected by everyone at school. Compared to him, Beomgyu felt like a shadow, barely worth noticing.
The realization hit him harder than he expected. Yeonjun’s warmth, his quiet confessions, the moments they had shared––it wasn’t for him. It never had been.
💙
After school, Beomgyu walked home in a daze. His parents didn’t seem to notice his distraction, though he wasn’t surprised. They rarely noticed him at all.
In his room, he stared at the cat mask lying on his bed. The seventh day was nearly here, and the decision he had been avoiding was now unavoidable.
For six days, he held on to a fragile hope that being human was still worth it––that maybe, just maybe, Yeonjun saw him the way he saw Yeonjun. But now that hope was shattered, and all he was left with was the cold reality of his life as Beomgyu.
He didn’t want to go back to that––back to the coldness of his parents’ house, the relentless weight of trying to meet everyone’s expectations, and the ache of watching Yeonjun from afar, knowing he could never measure up.
But as a cat, he could be free. Free to wander, to live without the burdens that had chained him for so long. Free to be near Yeonjun, even if it meant only ever being his companion, never more.
That night, Beomgyu donned the mask once more. The transformation felt final this time, as if the mask itself knew he had made his choice.
The familiar warmth spread through him as his human form melted away, replaced by sleek black fur and sharp, feline grace. He leaped onto his windowsill, gazing out at the moonlit world.
“I’ll be okay,” he whispered to himself, his voice a soft meow now.
He wasn’t sure if he believed it, but as he leaped into the night, he tried to hold on to the promise of freedom, the one thing that still felt within his grasp.
Choi Beomgyu disappeared the night of Homecoming.
💙
Beomgyu’s first destination after his transformation was obvious–– Yeonjun’s house. Despite everything, he couldn’t stay away. The warmth and safety he had felt there had become an anchor in his whirlwind of emotions.
He leapt up to the familiar tree branch outside Yeonjun’s window and peered inside. The room was dark, the bed neatly made, and the desk clear of its usual clutter. Beomgyu meowed softly, his call swallowed by the quiet night.
💙
The next morning Beomgyu prowled the streets near Yeonjun’s house, hoping to spot him. He ventured into alleys, peeked into cafes, and perched on fences, his sharp eyes scanning every passerby. But there was no sign of Yeonjun.
Days passed in a blur. Beomgyu had no real home now, no routine to ground him. His sleek black form moved unnoticed through the bustling city, just another stray cat in a world too busy to care.
At first, he managed to scavenge scraps from trash bins or pick at discarded food. But as his strength waned, even these small victories became harder to achieve. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, and his once-graceful movement grew sluggish.
The freedom he had craved now felt like a cruel joke. Without Yeonjun, without purpose, the vast world only amplified his loneliness.
Beomgyu collapsed in a quiet alley, his thin body trembling with exhaustion. His fur, once sleek and glossy, was now matted with dirt, and his golden eyes, once so sharp, had lost their light.
He curled into himself, the cold seeping into his bones. His mind drifted to memories of Yeonjun––his gentle smile, the way his voice softened when he spoke of loneliness, the warmth of his hand stroking Beomgyu’s fur.
I just wanted to stay close to you , he thought, his heart aching with regret.
As his breathing slowed, the world around him faded. The bustling noise of the city grew distant, replaced by a heavy silence.
In his final moments, Beomgyu thought of the life he had left behind, the of the choices he had made, and of the boy who had unknowingly captured his heart.
“I hope you’re happy,” he whispered into the void, his soft meow carried away by the wind.
And then, there was only stillness.
🤍
Beomgyu’s eyes fluttered open to a soft, white glow. He was lying on what felt like a hardwood floor, the ground beneath him formless yet tough. The air was still, eerily quiet, yet not entirely unpleasant.
He pushed himself up and looked around. The space stretched effortlessly, filled with wisps of fog and shimmering light. There was no horizon, no clear direction––just the infinite expanse of white.
“Where…am I?” he murmured, his voice echoing faintly.
“We call it ‘the place between.’”
Beomgyu turned sharply, startled by the voice. A figure stepped out of the mist––a young woman with hollow eyes and a faintly glowing form. Behind her, more figures materialized, each wearing expressions of longing, sadness, or defeat.
“The place between?” Beomgyu repeated.
“The space where souls go when they can't move on,” the woman explained, her voice devoid of emotion. “The cat-like entity that gave you the mask…it’s trapped us all here.”
Beomgyu’s stomach dropped. “Trapped? Why?”
The woman shrugged. “Because we failed. We clung too tightly to something we couldn’t let go of––our regrets, our fears, our attachments. This place feeds on that.”
Beomgyu’s mind raced as he looked around at the other souls, each weighed down by their own invisible chains. Was this his fate now? To linger here, haunted by his mistakes and the life he’d left behind?
Days turned into weeks. The space between offered no sense of time, but Beomgyu could feel its weight pressing on him. He wandered the misty expanse, his memories playing in endless loops—his parents’ indifference, his father’s harsh words, and most of all, Yeonjun’s warm smile.
He tried to escape, as the others had, by letting go of what tied him to his past. But every time he tried, Yeonjun’s face would appear in his mind, and his heart would ache all over again.
“You can’t escape if you don’t truly let go,” the woman had told him. But how could he let go of Yeonjun? How could he erase the one person who had made him feel seen?
Six months passed, or so it felt. Beomgyu had grown accustomed to the monotony of the place between. He no longer tried to escape, resigned to his fate.
Until the day he arrived.
A glowing figure stumbled into the space, his form more vivid than the others. He had a gentle presence, his wide eyes filled with confusion and determination.
“Newbie, huh?” Beomgyu asked, tilting his head as he studied the boy. “Name’s Beomgyu.”
The boy managed a small nod, his voice barely above a whisper. “I…I’m Soobin. Where am I?”
Beomgyu sighed, shrugging. “We call it ‘the place between.’ It’s where souls like us end up after we chose to be cats and lost our human lives for good. Sort of like a waiting room…but, uh, forever.”
“So…this is it? I’m just…stuck here?”
Beomgyu’s smile turned a little sad. “Pretty much. I’ve been here for six months now. Everyone here chose to give up their humanity, thinking life would be easier as a cat. But once you make that choice, you lose everything you thought you’d escape. All that’s left is…well, this.”
🩵
Over the next few weeks, Soobin’s arrival brought an unexpected energy to the In Between . Unlike the other souls, he didn’t seem ready to give up. He asked Beomgyu questions, prodding him for answers, and even dared to venture deeper into the misty void.
“You’ve been here a long time, haven’t you?” Soobin asked one day, sitting beside Beomgyu.
“Too long,” Beomgyu admitted, his gaze distant.
“Then why haven’t you left?”
Beomgyu hesitated. “I… I can’t. I’ve tried, but I can’t let go.”
Soobin studied him for a moment. “What are you holding onto?”
Beomgyu’s chest tightened. “Memories. Of someone I… cared about. Yeonjun-hyung.”
“You think if you let go, it means you’re abandoning him?” Soobin asked softly.
Beomgyu nodded, his throat tight.
“But maybe holding on is what’s keeping you from him,” Soobin said gently. “Maybe letting go isn’t forgetting—it’s freeing yourself to move forward.”
Beomgyu’s journey to let go wasn’t easy, but Soobin’s presence gave him the strength he needed. For the first time, he allowed himself to confront his memories fully, not as a chain, but as a part of his story.
One day, as he stood in the mist, a thought struck him.
“Yeonjun-hyung wouldn’t want me to stay here,” he whispered. “He’d want me to live—even if it’s without him.”
Beomgyu held his hand out to Soobin, an encouraging smile on his face. With a shaky breath, Soobin took Beomgyu’s hand. The shadow stood up from its desk, facing the two with a menacing aura surrounding him.
“Close your eyes and follow me.” Beomgyu instructed, knowing the ritual by heart. Soobin complied, closing his eyes, Beomgyu tugging him forward into a corner away from the shadow’s influence. “Breathe. Then drift.” Beomgyu’s grip on him loosened, Soobin following his instructions as Beomgyu closed his eyes and grabbed Soobin’s other hand. They let themselves drift into the mist, the world around them beginning to fade. Their forms dissolved into the soft light as they surrendered to the unknown.
💙
The first day Beomgyu didn’t show up to school, Yeonjun brushed it off. Maybe he was sick or busy with something else. But by the second day, unease began creeping in. When Beomgyu’s absence stretched into the weekend, Yeonjun could no longer ignore the growing pit in his stomach.
He began searching everywhere he could think of––school, the park, their usual hangouts. He asked anyone who might know where Beomgyu was, but the answers were always the same: “We haven’t seen him.”
Desperation gnawed at him as the days passed. Yeonjun visited Beomgyu’s house, only to have the door slammed in his face by Beomgyu’s father. He stayed up late at night, scrolling through old messages, replaying their last conversations and wondering if he had missed some sign, some secret message behind Beomgyu’s sudden disappearance.
“Where are you?” he whispered into the quiet of his room, his heart aching with worry.
💙
Two weeks later, Yeonjun sat on his bed, his hands trembling as he clutched his phone. The calls and texts had gone unanswered, and his hope was dwindling.
That night, he cried into his pillow, muffling the sounds of his sobs as the weight of Beomgyu’s absence crushed him. The boy who had lit up his world, who had made him feel less alone, was gone.
For months, Yeonjun carried the ache with him. He went through the motions of life, but the spark he once had was dimmed. Every now and then, he’d glance at the door of the cafe they used to frequent, hoping to see Beomgyu walk through it with his bright smile and easy laugh. But each time, he was met with disappointment.
🩵
It wasn’t until six months later that everything changed once again.
Yeonjun was sitting at their usual table in the cafe, nursing a cup of coffee and scrolling aimlessly on his phone, looking through Beomgyu’s Instagram account. He sighed to himself, standing up and making his way to the door, only to stop when the soft chime of the door rang through the cafe.
Beomgyu needed to see Yeonjun. He ached to see him. Once he went back hom e to change into a hoodie, his parents paying no mind as he ran to his room and back out in a flash, he ran to the cafe he frequented with his Yeonjun-hyung.
Yeonjun walked towards Beomgyu unbelievingly, face lighting up in surprise and relief. The corner of his eyes pricked with tears, breath silently catching in his throat.
“Beomgyu…” Yeonjun breathed, stopping just in front of him. His eyes softened as he took in Beomgyu’s familiar features, the same mischievous spark in his gaze that he remembered so well. But when he noticed the faint outline of ears beneath Beomgyu’s hood, his eyebrows raised. “Is that…are those cat ears?”
Beomgyu flushed, a sheepish smile spreading across his face as he pushed back his hood, letting his ears twitch freely. “Yeah…long story.” He muttered, scratching his head. “But hey, I guess this is what happens when you disappear for a while.”
Yeonjun laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief. He was still Beomgyu. He hadn’t seen him in six months, but he was still his Beomgyu. “I always thought you had a bit of a wild side, but I didn’t think you’d take it this literally.” He teased, laughing softly as the tears brimming in his eyes dried.
“Yeah, yeah, make fun of the cat boy,” Beomgyu grumbled, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face. For a moment, they just stood there, a comfortable silence settling between them. Then, Yeonjun’s expression turned serious, his gaze searching Beomgyu’s face.
“You have no idea how worried I was,” Yeonjun said quietly. “I thought I’d never see you again. I looked everywhere––asked everyone ––praying you’d just show back up one day.”
Beomgyu swallowed thickly, the weight of his disappearance settling over him. “I’m sorry, Yeonjun-hyung. I didn’t mean to make you worry like that.” He hesitated, looking down. “I…I was going through a lot, and…I thought I could escape it all. I didn’t realize how much I’d be giving up.”
Yeonjun relieved, reaching out, lifting Beomgyu’s chin so their eyes met. “Well, you’re here now,” he murmured, his thumb brushing softly against Beomgyu’s cheek. “That’s what matters to me.”
Beomgyu felt his cheeks grow warm, his heart racing as he searched Yeonjun’s eyes. Yeonjun easily recognized it. “Yeonjun-hyung, I… there’s something I need to tell you.”
He smiled gently, nodding for Beomgyu to continue.
“I…I’ve liked you for a long time,” Beomgyu admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought maybe you just saw me as a friend, so I never said anything. But…after everything, I don’t want to keep it to myself more.”
Yeonjun’s eyes softened, and he let out a small laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Beomgyu, you have no idea…I’ve felt the same way about you since… forever.”
Beomgyu blinked, Yeonjun’s heart softening as he gazed at the soft expression. “You…you have?”
He nodded, his gaze warm and tender. “I’ve always loved you, Beomgyu. I was just too afraid to say it first. I thought…maybe you wouldn’t feel the same way.”
Beomgyu reached out, pulling Yeonjun into a tight hug, burying his face against his shoulder as his tail curled happily around them.
Yeonjun chuckled, wrapping his arms around Beomgyu, holding him close. “Guess we were both fools, huh?”
Beomgyu nodded, pulling back just enough to look up into Yeonjun’s eyes. “Yeah. But at least we finally got here.”
Yeonjun leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to Beomgyu’s forehead, and Beomgyu closed his eyes, savoring the warmth of the moment. At last, Beomgyu was home, in his hyung’s arms, right where he belonged.
🩵
Yeonjun couldn’t stop smiling as he held Beomgyu’s hand, leading him out of the cafe. The confession earlier had left them both giddy and flushed, their hearts still racing from the emotions spilling out after months of longing and separation.
“So,” Yeonjun said, his voice teasing as they walked down the quiet street. “What do you want to do for our first date, Mr. Catboy?”
Beomgyu groaned, his face burning. “Hyung, don’t call me that.” He swatted at Yeonjun’s arm, but the movement only made his tail flick behind him, emphasizing his feline features.
Yeonjun laughed, his eyes crinkling with joy. “I’m serious, though. I owe you the best first date ever. You’re the one who’s been missing all this time.”
Beomgyu hesitated, his tail curling slightly behind him. “I don’t know…something simple, maybe? I’m still getting used to all this.” He gestured vaguely toward his ears and tail.
“Then it’s settled,” Yeonjun said, squeezing his hand. “Let’s keep it low-key. How about a walk in the park and some takeout? You always said you loved watching the sunset.”
Beomgyu’s heart warmed at Yeonjun’s thoughtfulness, and he nodded, his lips curving into a soft smile. “That sounds perfect.”
🩵
The park was quiet as they strolled through it, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows across the grass. Beomgyu caught himself twitching his ears every time the wind rustled through the trees, and he could feel Yeonjun’s amused gaze on him.
“It’s weird,” Beomgyu admitted, reaching up to touch one of his ears. It flicked involuntarily, and he huffed in frustration. “I don’t know how to control them yet.”
“I think it’s cute,” Yeonjun said, his voice full of affection.
Beomgyu shot him a glare, but it lacked heat. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Maybe a little,” Yeonjun teased, bumping their shoulders together. “But I mean it––you’re still you, Beomgyu. Ears and tail included.”
They found a quiet bench near the edge of the park, where they shared a box of takeout under the fading light. Yeonjun told him stories about the time he spent searching for him, about how much he had missed him, and Beomgyu listened with tears in his eyes, apologizing over and over.
“You’re here now,” Yeonjun said, cutting off his apology with a gentle smile. “That’s all that matters.”
🩵
Later that evening, they returned to Yeonjun’s house. Beomgyu hesitated at the door, his tail swaying nervously behind him.
“You can stay the night,” Yeonjun said, sensing his hesitation. “My parents aren’t home.”
Beomgyu nodded, following Yeonjun inside. The house was warm and inviting, filled with soft lamplight and the faint smell of lavender from a diffuser in the living room.
Yeonjun led him to his room, where he handed Beomgyu an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants. “Here, these should fit. Well, mostly.” He grinned.
Beomgyu took the clothes with a small smile. “Thanks.”
After changing, he sat cross-legged on Yeonjun’s bed, fiddling with the hem of the hoodie. His tail peeked out from the back, curling loosely over his leg. Yeonjun plopped down beside him, lying back with his hands behind his head.
“Comfortable?” Yeonjun asked.
Beomgyu nodded, his ears twitching slightly.
Yeonjun reached out, brushing his fingers gently along one of Beomgyu’s ears. “Do they feel sensitive?”
“A little,” Beomgyu admitted, his cheeks pink.
“I’ll stop teasing, then,” Yeonjun said with a chuckle, pulling his hand back.
They stayed up late, talking about everything and nothing. Beomgyu told Yeonjun more about the place between and how he had found his way back. Yeonjun listened intently, his eyes never leaving Beomgyu’s face.
As the night wore on, Beomgyu’s eyelids grew heavy. He curled up beside Yeonjun, his head resting on the older boy’s shoulder.
“You know,” Yeonjun murmured, his voice soft in the quiet room, “I’ve never been happier than I am right now.”
Beomgyu smiled, his tail flicking lazily. “Me too, hyung.”
Before long, they drifted off to sleep, their hands intertwined under the blanket.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Beomgyu felt truly at peace–– cat ears, tail, and all.
🩵
When Beomgyu awoke once more, he silently disappointed at the lost warmth he now realized, blinking his gaze only to notice his Yeonjun-hyung wasn’t beside him. He stood up from the bed, blinking lethargically as he met Yeonjun’s eyes silently.
“Oh, sorry. Did I wake you up?” Yeonjun smiled softly, Beomgyu shaking his head in response. Beomgyu’s eyes trailed down Yeonjun’s figure, cheeks heating as the older was wearing gray sweatpants and nothing else, hair still dripping. “I just got out of the shower. Do you wanna take one too?” Yeonjun smiled, rubbing his hair with a towel as Beomgyu’s eyes stayed silently linked with his bare skin. His cheeks silently heated, eyes widening as he pulled the covers over his torso, hiding his hard-on as he turned his face away from the older.
Yeonjun immediately took note of his boyfriend’s new demeanor, sitting on the edge of his bed as he laid his hand over Beomgyu’s legs. “Beom? Is something wrong?” He asked, genuinely concerned about the boy’s sudden silence.
Beomgyu reached his hand over his mouth, blush pinkening harder against his cheeks. Yeonjun’s eyes silently trailed to the covers, connecting the dots as he gazed at the bulge under the covers. He silently smirked, crawling toward Beomgyu with an alluring smile painting his face. Beomgyu looked at him wide-eyed, laying his hands over his torso, as if protecting it from Yeonjun’s lust.
Yeonjun spread his legs over Beomgyu’s still hidden by the covers. He gently grabbed Beomgyu’s hand, staring at it for a moment, before bringing it to his bare chest, blush coating his cheeks.
“Hyung…” Beomgyu whispered, eyes glistening as his fingers ran over Yeonjun’s chest.
“It’s okay! I like this…” Yeonjun whispered back, Beomgyu’s hand trailing to his abs and torso.
“A––are you sure?” Beomgyu whispered, hand resting on Yeonjun’s hip as his heart stuttered in his chest.
After a silent moment between the two, Yeonjun replied. “Yes. I want you Beomgyu.” He whispered, a lovestruck smile filling his expression.
Beomgyu’s eyes silently widened, before he wrapped his arms around Yeonjun’s waist, pulling him down onto the bed next to him. He stood before him, hovering over the older for a moment silently before kissing Yeonjun on the lips passionately, the older immediately kissing him back as his heart tumbled around his chest. Beomgyu closed his eyes, choosing to savor the moment and lose himself to his passion as he pulled Yeonjun’s sweatpants down under the covers. The older kicked them off as well, lust for Beomgyu increasing every second they stayed connected. Beomgyu pulled down his boxers, eyes glistening as he gazed at Yeonjun’s large cock.
“Hyung you’re so…beautiful.” Beomgyu breathed out, throwing the covers aside as he wrapped his fingers around Yeonjun’s penis.
Yeonjun sucked a breath in as Beomgyu began pumping his hand on his cock, legs spreading as he reached a euphoric state. “Oh, Beomgyu…you have no idea…how much I wanted this. For so long…oh… you’re so much better than I imagined.” He whined, chest heating up as Beomgyu continued to jerk him off.
Right before he felt his stomach bunch into knots, telling of his soon-to-be-cumming state, Beomgyu stopped. Yeonjun whined out, opening his eyes as he immediately stood up from his bed, ready to beg for Beomgyu to finish him off. His protests died in his throat as he realized Beomgyu was taking his sweatpants off as well, throwing them on the floor, before throwing his boxers to the floor as well. Just as Beomgyu was about to remove Yeonjun’s sweatshirt, he stopped the boy, grabbing his wrist.
“Wait. Don’t take it off. I…I like seeing you in my clothes. Make me cum while you’re wearing my clothes. Please. ” Yeonjun pleaded, with a desperate tone in his voice. Beomgyu stared at him for a moment, before nodding silently.
Beomgyu silently kissed Yeonjun once more, laying on top of him before turning their positions so Yeonjun was above him. Beomgyu spread his legs silently, looking Yeonjun in the eyes as he positioned his asshole against Yeonjun’s cock.
“Tell me if it hurts,” Yeonjun positioned his cock against Beomgyu’s entrance, the younger nodding silently. Yeonjun slowly pushed his cock into Beomgyu’s, the younger gasping and sucking air in. “Does it hurt? Should I stop?” “No! Keep going. I’m fine. Please…I need you in me.” Beomgyu pleaded, breaths hot and labored. Yeonjun silently continued, heaving out as he fully inserted his cock into Beomgyu.
And then he started pumping. And Beomgyu felt like he was floating into heaven. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. With his Yeonjun-hyung no less. The boy he was so madly in love with. The boy he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The boy that spent weeks looking for him. The boy that spent weeks crying over him. Beomgyu couldn’t believe it.
Right before Yeonjun came, the older stopped in his tracks, laying his hand on Beomgyu’s cheek carefully as the younger laid his arm over his eyes, lips silently trembling. “Beomie? Are you okay? Should I stop?”
Beomgyu silently wiped at his eyes, lips still silently trembling as Yeonjun picked him up carefully, laying both of his hands on Beomgyu’s cheeks. “No…no, it’s not that, hyung. I just…” Beomgyu wrapped his arms around Yeonjun suddenly, leaning his face on the older’s shoulder. “I love you. I love you so much. I…I’m sorry for making you worry so much. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Beomgyu broke down, voice cracking as his grip on Yeonjun tightened.
Yeonjun slowly brought his arms up to Beomgyu, hugging him tightly as his eyes glistened and an ache spread through his body. Tears had long soaked Yeonjun’s shoulder, but Yeonjun’s hoodie was still fresh, the scent of Yeonjun and Beomgyu’s sweat intertwining with each other. Yeonjun loved this boy so much. Oh, he hoped this ache would never go away. The ache he felt while loving this boy and feeling loved by this boy. He wanted to hold onto him forever and never let him go.
“I know, Gyu. I know you never meant to make me worry. It’s okay. I love you. I’m just happy you’re back. I’m so happy I can just hold you in my arms like this. I genuinely love you, Beomgyu. You don’t have to apologize. I know what you went through. I know how much you missed me. It’s okay. I love you. I love you so much.”
Beomgyu tightened his grip on Yeonjun, tension unwinding in his body as Yeonjun’s cock still throbbed inside his entrance. The older grunted softly, cock heating up once more as Beomgyu’s insides enveloped him once more. Beomgyu adjusted his position silently, wrapping Yeonjun’s cock tighter around his core, if that was even possible. The older gasped out, nails slightly clawing into Beomgyu’s back as his eyes widened and glistened. Beomgyu slowly moved up and down Yeonjun’s cock, heat bunching up in his stomach as he felt himself come close to cumming again. Beomgyu continued to move slowly, cheeks overly red and a pleasurable expression at his helm. Right as Yeonjun felt himself ready to cum, Beomgyu paced faster up and down, moaning out as Yeonjun banged against his prostate.
They both came simultaneously, bodies curling into each other as they both moaned out audibly. They both panted heavily as they fell back on Yeonjun’s bed, sweat adorning their bodies.
“I love you. So much.” Beomgyu whispered, panting in between his words.
“Me too. And I always will. Forever.” Yeonjun whispered back, panting as he fully laid on his bed and intertwined his fingers in Beomgyu’s.
They held each other’s hand silently, staring at the ceiling as they continued panting for a minute. When they looked at each other, they smiled softly, Yeonjun kissing Beomgyu softly as he rubbed Beomgyu’s ears softly. The younger softly sighed, a fond smile on his face as he sleepily blinked toward his Yeonjun-hyung. The younger soon fell asleep, a fond smile overtaking Yeonjun’s face as he gazed at his boyfriend. “I promise I’ll always love you.” He whispered, before closing his eyes silently, a fond smile still on his face.
At last, Beomgyu was home. And Yeonjun sure as hell was never gonna let him go again.
Fin