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Summer, in Jisuk’s professional and completely unbiased opinion, was tremendously overrated and not at all worth the praise otherwise heaped upon it. The season, like all things, had its redeeming qualities. Pretty girls in bikinis were always a welcome sight to any teenage boy, and summer break was nice, though Jisuk would probably have appreciated it more had he bothered to attend school with any regularity. Be that as it was, the scant few pleasant things about summer could never make up for its unbearable heat and humidity. At the end of the day, Jisuk was simply not a man built for the summer months. Shinhwa was an association that specialized in the wind, brisk and chilling, and like his organization’s elemental preference, Jisuk liked his weather cold and dry.
Jisuk’s summer activities of choice, if there were no pools to lounge in, chiefly involved sitting in an air-conditioned room and playing some video game or another. Or fighting. Fighting was also good, if only because it allowed him to work off his aggression. For the most part, Jisuk had been content with his lackluster summers, right up until Jiwoo had stormed in and upended life as he knew it.
Ever delighted that he had friends to spend time with, Jiwoo had insisted that everyone should spend their summer break at his place. As a group, the four of them had precious little experience with how normal people their age whiled away their summers. No one had exactly had the most social upbringing, which was perhaps why Jiwoo and Wooin had been so tremendously pleased by the idea. Hanging out with Jiwoo was always a lark, though, and Jisuk wouldn’t dream of missing out on a chance to mess around and cause a ruckus.
Jiwoo had no pool to lounge in, nor was there a conveniently close beach, but Jisuk knew this and had the foresight to bring along some water guns. More accurately, he had the foresight to ask his sister to buy water guns for them, which she had done with that proud, watery, sort of smile that she got whenever Jisuk mentioned having friends.
It had been a good day of over-competitive water fights, even if that bastard Wooin always won — damn him and his impeccable aim. For a moment, a brief water-soaked moment where Jisuk had accidentally shot Subin in the eye when he really meant to aim for Wooin, Jisuk had thought that summer might not be so bad, actually. He was then very quickly reminded of his hatred for the season when night came.
One of the worst things about the summer, something that was almost certainly exacerbated by living in a practically treeless city, was that the night was just as hot as the day. If things cooled down after dark to a reasonable degree, Jisuk might have found the season tolerable. As it was, the temperature stayed insufferably hot regardless of the hour, and the only breeze that moved through the air was facilitated through Jisuk’s ability.
As Jisuk lay, sweating and decidedly not asleep, on Jiwoo’s couch with Subin’s legs sprawled haphazardly over his own and a horde of kittens cuddled at his side, he cursed whichever underpaid construction workers had built Jiwoo’s house. The home was the type of pleasantly modern and modestly upscale suburban building that one expected to see in an American sitcom, but it lacked severely in the air conditioning department. That was to say, there was no air conditioning. A dinky little window unit hummed pitifully and sputtered but was altogether ineffective as anything other than a white noise machine. No one else seemed to have a problem; they all slumbered away, oblivious to Jisuk’s suffering.
Such was the impetus of Jisuk’s impending doom. As everyone else slept comfortably in their puppy pile, Jisuk lay there, too hot to sleep, and awake far later than even he was used to. It was late enough that it had circled back around to being early when Jisuk heard them, the voices.
The voices had started out muffled, as mellow mutterings from behind the basement door. The door had swung open, just as Jisuk thought he might finally drift off to sleep, and had bathed the living room in the dim yellowed glow of the humble incandescent light.
Jisuk wished that the voices belonged to strangers, to known enemies, to literally anyone else. Hell, he’d have even taken an auditory hallucination to the truth.
The voices, or more accurately one of the voices, sent a cold shiver down Jisuk’s spine, instantly recognizable. It was a voice that had haunted Jisuk’s nightmares and driven him to a failed obsession with competitive cat breeding. It was the voice that had taken down one of the Klein brothers, that had beaten one of the Korean Awakened Academy instructors bloody, the voice that had threatened him into silence. It was a voice that Jisuk prayed every day to never hear again. There was no god, though, and Jisuk found himself a yet again unwilling witness to the might of Jiwoo’s fat orange tabby.
“Come on now, don’t be like that. You know it’s a good deal.” The fat cat’s voice was low and amused, perhaps teasing. There was more joy to the sound than had ever been directed at Jisuk, and there was a rumbley sort of undertone that made him think the cat was purring.
He had to have been talking with the skinny white cat. None of Jiwoo’s companion pets were normal, Jisuk was sure of that, but the white one freaked him out nearly as bad as the fat one. There was simply something inherently evil, heinously twisted, about those two cats. They sat like people, ate like people, talked like people, and were, assumedly, awakened like people too. They were terrifying, much more so even than Jiwoo’s weird stubby little dog or the angry grey cat.
The white cat scoffed, and Jisuk realized that he’d never heard it speak before. The voice was smooth and cool, entirely unlike the appearance of the emaciated creature. “I thought you were above this kind of begging, but I suppose I overestimated you.”
The cats made no sounds as they moved, but Jisuk could hear their voices come closer. It was hard to tell exactly where they were when all Jisuk could do was stay laying down as he stared at the entrance to the kitchen, but he wasn’t about to sit up and announce his presence in order to see the cats.
“I don’t know why you think your offer is so much better, when everyone else had made it before. You’re not special, you know?” The white cat continued.
“Hey!” The fat cat protested but failed to sound even slightly annoyed. If anything, the voice became even more smug and cloying. “Who said anything about begging? I’m not begging, I’m offering, and you know full well why my offer is so much better than everyone else’s.”
“I’ve turned down everyone else. I have no reason to accept your offer, even with that unbroken winning streak of yours.” Jisuk didn't understand how a cat could have an accent, but the white one did. It was a strange one, for sure. The white cat was exceedingly harsh on all his consonants, save for the r’s, and his vowels were round and throaty. How Jiwoo had managed to find a foreign cat with a fancy accent was a question likely to never be answered.
Jisuk turned his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes; he was unlikely to see anything anyway. For a brief second, right as he had closed his eyes, Jisuk could’ve sworn he heard the telltale crackle of an awakened power. Static hung in the air despite the humidity, and for a minute, Jisuk worried that the fat cat had attacked the white one for real. Regardless, all that followed was a tense silence, and Jisuk hoped that the conversation between the evil cats had been abandoned.
It had not.
After several minutes, the telltale sounds of a scuffle rang out in the silence. Fabric rustled and two voices breathed heavily as they seemingly struggled against each other. The AC unit kicked back on with a horrible gurgle and whir of its fan, but the sound was all but masked by a heavy thump and a disgruntled oof, the suddenness of which startled Jisuk into opening his eyes.
He regretted his choice immediately. Why did it always have to be him, he wondered, why did Jisuk always stumble upon secrets he’d never wanted to know in the first place? Somehow, in his sleepless delirium, he had made a mistake about the identity of the voices. Jisuk had though that Jiwoo’s cats were the most frightening creatures he could accidentally eavesdrop on. Yet there he was, utterly mistaken as he took in the sight in front of him.
The figures of two men should have been frightening for reasons not pertaining to the specifics of who they were, but they were no intruders. Intruders would have been the safer option. No, the silhouettes of the two men were distressingly familiar to Jisuk, who by proxy to Jiwoo, had become acquainted with two of the scariest motherfuckers out there.
Pressed against the rectangular column that marked the divide between the open kitchen and dining area, was none other than Kartein. His face was obscured, but Jisuk could recognize that white suit anywhere. The face obscurer, the reason that Jisuk had to identify Kartein by suit, was none other than Kayden Break. It was he who had Kartein pinned to the dividing pillar, with one hand up by the healer’s head that made it so Kartein’s face was blocked from view by Kayden’s forearm.
Jisuk hadn’t the faintest idea how he’d managed to confuse that cat’s voice for Kayden’s, but the new situation was somehow worse than what it might have been with the cats. The cats were scary and very strange, but mostly under Jiwoo’s control. Kayden and Kartein were two of the most powerful awakeners alive, and they were beholden to no one. If they wanted to see Jisuk dead, then dead he would be.
He almost missed the cats.
“My winning streak is exactly why you should take my offer. Unlike all those other plebs, I can back up my talk.” There was something familiar about how Kayden talked, Jisuk thought, something that made him think he’d heard this conversation before.
Kartein turned his head and Jisuk could just barely make out the man’s profile. His aquiline nose was turned up in distaste, and his lips were pursed into an unfairly pretty sneer. “Everyone who begs for my favor has claimed that they’re the real deal. I’ve had organizations, some of the strongest in the world, grovel at my feet.”
“You’re not the only one who’s had organizations beg for this kind of deal, you know. There are awakeners out there who would kill for the kind of thing I’m offering to you. You should honestly be honored I’m not asking for more, I’d be doing most of the work anyway.” The moon illuminated Kayden’s face in a ghastly pale light as he grinned, all sharp teeth and confidence. Something in the way he stared Kartein down reminded Jisuk of a cat stalking its prey, or a panther waiting to strike.
Clothing rustled as Kartein reared his head back as much as he could to try and shift away from Kayden. He didn’t have much room to work with though, so he didn’t get very far. “It doesn’t matter how splendid you think your deal is, I’m not taking it! I’m a free agent, unaffiliated, and I will not be monopolized.”
Kayden clicked his tongue and shook his head with a mock pout. “Who said anything about monopolizing your great skill? I don’t want to own you, I just want priority, and in return, you’d be my priority.”
Jisuk had finally realized what it was that had struck him as familiar about Kayden’s tone. He’d heard this exact type of conversation before. Back in the day, before he had met Jiwoo and when he still entertained himself by leading a common gang of ruffians, this type of conversation was a common occurrence. Kayden wasn’t trying to threaten Kartein, he was trying to seduce him.
It was the exact kind of shtick Jisuk had heard his former underlings try and pull on pretty girls they didn’t know how to talk to. One of Jisuk’s boys would find a girl he liked and, completely unable to communicate like a normal person, they’d treat her like someone they were trying to shake down. It was always the same song and dance, one of the thugs would corner and pin the pretty girl and make her an offer; he’d fight for her and keep her safe if only she would date him. It was, for the same reasons, also a move that many a man had tried to pull on his sister, so Jisuk was opposed to the method by default. He’d always made an effort to break up those types of conversations back when he'd been in charge of his little gang, but somehow Jisuk thought that Kayden and Kartein wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted. Jisuk certainly wasn’t going to yell at Kayden to keep it in his pants.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Kayden, I’m not stupid. And who says I want to be your priority?” Despite his protestations, Kartein made no further attempts to flee. Kayden’s pin was weak, full of possible escapes and clearly more for show than an actual attempt to trap Kartein. If the other truly wanted to leave, he could, and Jisuk was struck with the horrifying realization that Kartein was simply playing hard to get.
Kayden moved his face lower, right next to Kartein’s ear, and Jisuk’s view of their faces was once again blocked. It was probably meant to be a whisper, but when the only other noise was the hum of the AC unit, Jisuk heard every word of what Kayden said anyway. “You know, I think you rather enjoy being my priority. Our situation now isn’t all that different from what I’ve been suggesting; you already heal Jiwoo for me, and I do most of the fighting for us, so why can’t I get some preferential treatment of my own?”
“Ugh!” Kartein brought up a hand and pushed away Kyden’s face. “I don’t heal Jiwoo for you, and you better not be telling people that’s what’s going on! If our situation is already so close to this quid pro quo of yours, why bother changing it anyway?”
Kayden laughed as he was pushed away and only grinned churlishly. Jisuk knew he should have looked away, it was bad enough to listen, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn his head.
“Ah, but you have so much to gain, Kartein. It’s no secret that you avoid fighting your own battles until you have no other option.” Kayden dodged Kartein’s hand as it came up again to push at him, “And we both know you liked that I killed Astra for you.”
Jisuk flinched so hard that he almost fell off the couch. He was almost certainly not supposed to know that information. Everyone knew that Astra had been defeated by Kayden, but his former disciples had been tight lipped as to what had brought Kayden out to their neck of the woods. Apparently, Kartein had been the reason. To know that Kayden had killed Astra, a top tenner, all for Kartein’s sake, that was information that many people would kill for. Jisuk had known that Astra had been after Kartein for a while, but the connection between Astra dogging Kartein and his Kayden-induced death hadn’t been on the forefront of anyone’s mind when they asked themselves ‘why go so far as to kill?’. Romance may have been dead, but killing Kartein’s enemies was one hell of a way to revive it.
“I– you did not kill Astra for me, you-” Whatever else Kartein was about to say was cut off as Kayden cackled.
It was hard to see, considering that the figures were illuminated only by the sinking moon and the basement lights, but there was a glint of something manic in Kayden’s eyes as he laughed. His arm dropped slightly lower on the wall so that he could toy with Kartein’s hair, and while Jisuk couldn’t see Kayden’s other hand, he was sure it was nowhere decent, if Kartein’s bug-eyed look was anything to go off of. Kayden lurched forward suddenly, and for a moment, there was no telling where Kartein’s silhouette ended, and Kayden’s began.
“Did- You bastard! Did you just bite me?” Kartein’s voice jumped an octave and several decibels as he shrieked in indignation. Jisuk had no idea how everyone else managed to sleep through such a ruckus.
“Heh, so what if I did? You don’t even bruise. And don’t tell me what my motivations are for my actions. If I say that I killed Astra for you, then I killed him for you. Besides, you still didn’t deny liking it.” Kayden managed to sound somehow more smug than he already was, a feat that Jisuk didn’t know was possible.
Jisuk wished more than anything that he had Wooin’s same capacity to fall asleep instantly anywhere. He was not meant to know what he now knew, was not meant to have heard the conversation at all. Regardless of if the pair cared about PDA or not, Jisuk certainly hadn’t wanted to see all of that. Secrets stressed him out, and Kayden and Kartein were the worst possible people to piss off. Doubly so now that pissing off Kartein meant making an enemy of Kayden.
“You impossible bastard! You don’t even want me to heal you, what happened to your pride?” Kartein’s face, as far as could be seen behind Kayden’s arm, was flushed completely red. His breathing was labored, and his white overcoat had slipped off his shoulders sometime during the back and forth. Jisuk finally caught sight of where Kayden’s other hand was, and he very much wished he couldn’t see the fabric-wrinkling grip that Kayden had on Kartein’s upper thigh.
Jisuk was suddenly very glad that no one else had awoken in the commotion. He could only imagine what kind of monumental fallout would occur if the two were interrupted by confused teenagers. Wooin would be the only one to have enough sense of self-preservation to not say anything, but it was equally likely that, given his obliviousness and proclivity for blunt honesty, he might have weighed in on the couple’s situation. Subin still snored away gently, and Jisuk had never been happier to hear her nightly lawnmower impression. Subin waking up would set off nuclear levels of disaster, likely heralded in by some sort of nervous breakdown on Subin’s part. Jiwoo would probably survive the destruction, but destruction would be had regardless of any protests he might be able to throw around.
Kayden hummed thoughtfully as his hand inched further and further back until it was no longer on Kartein’s thigh. “What about my pride? There’s nothing shameful about being healed by the greatest healer alive. In fact, I think that having an exclusivity agreement with the oh so coveted Kartein would really raise my social standing.”
“I already said I won’t be monopolized! I still intend to take on interesting cases, damn you.” Kartein slapped away Kayden’s hand, though did very little else to dissuade Kayden’s leery gaze. That he had already started to negotiate rather than deny the advances was very telling.
“Mmhm,” Kayden hummed as he grinned down at Kartein, “naturally, I would expect nothing less. I couldn’t possibly demand that you give up healing and cater to Jiwoo and I alone, never mind that you’re halfway there already. But think, wouldn’t it be nice to have me stand guard as you heal, even beyond when Jiwoo no longer needs us?”
Jisuk scrunched up his nose at the unabashed flirting. Couldn’t the two take it to one of the several unoccupied bedrooms in Jiwoo’s too-big suburban house? The unshakable fear of death finally allowed him to pull his eyes away from the impending train wreck that was the two awakeners. As if to chase away the awful images that he’d been unwillingly subjected to, Jisuk closed his eyes as tightly as he could. It did nothing to muffle the conversation, and if it wouldn’t have caused the cats to yowl in annoyance, Jisuk would have picked up two of the kittens to try and use as a pair of earmuffs, heat be damned.
“You do all that already!” Kartein’s voice had lost most of its bluster and had devolved into a whine. Several soft thumps followed, paired with the slight movement of fabric, and Jisuk surmised that Kartein had begun to bat at Kayden in a fruitless effort to deter his wandering hands.
“You’re so stubborn,” Kayden chuckled, but his voice sounded muffled, as if he had his mouth pressed up against something. Kartein was probably that something, and Jisuk cursed himself for allowing the thought to cross his mind.
“What are you so afraid of, huh? We both know no one alive or dead can match me, and you know that I’m not in the habit of owning people. I’d be assuming more of the risk in this relationship, and you know it, but I don’t mind fighting the bigger fish if that means I get to keep you.” Kayden’s voice had gone soft, almost sentimental, tinged with an affection that Jisuk had never heard in anyone but his parents when they spoke to each other.
Kartein grumbled out something between an annoyed whine and a thoughtful hum before he deigned to speak again, “I know you could win any fight you want, that’s not the point. And don’t act like fighting on my behalf is some great sacrifice for you; you love to cause trouble, and I bet you would love to use me as an excuse to throw yourself into some pointless battle. I will not be used as bait so you can pick fights with high-ranked awakeners!”
Kartein still protested, but even Jisuk could tell that he had already resigned himself to whatever deal Kayden had initially offered. If Kartein was bargaining, then he must’ve been most of the way to agreeing already. The thought didn’t shock Jisuk as much as it should have. Kartein and Kayden claimed to hate each other —or rather Kartein claimed that they hated each other— but their actions had said otherwise for ages now.
“Aww, you’re actually worried for me, aren’t you?” Kayden’s voice took on a teasing lilt, though it lacked any bite.
The dull thunk of a socked foot against wood sounded, and Jisuk almost laughed at the thought of refined and put-together Kartein stomping his foot in frustration. “I am most certainly not! Why would I ever be worried about your safety? Get in as many fights as you want with that damaged force core of yours, see if I care!”
Kayden laughed, gleeful and a little bit animalistic, which seemed to be the only way he knew how to laugh, “Oh, but you do care about me! After all, how would you know what’s wrong with me if you hadn’t been concerned enough to check!”
There was a long silence after that. Jisuk hoped that it might have meant that they’d decided to take their conversation elsewhere, that they’d stop with their awful means of disguising serious conversations as antagonistic flirtations and go back downstairs where they couldn’t interrupt the sleep he wasn’t getting anyway. He knew, though, that such hope was futile and that he was doomed to hear all the emotional intimacies of Kayden and Kartein’s relationship.
“Come on now, you don’t have to be scared for me. I’m unbeatable now when I’m half-healed, so I’ll be a god once I’m healed! Unless you think you can’t do it…” Kayden cajoled.
“Hah!” Kartein barked out a haughty laugh, “Of course I can heal you; it would be nothing to me. I just don’t like to see my handiwork disregarded, that’s all”
“I am a man capable of compromise, Kartein. If you’re so worried about your handiwork getting busted up, I can promise you I’ll never start a fight I can’t win. You won’t go without thanks, either. I can assure you, your hard work will be thoroughly appreciated.” Kayden’s voice returned to that salacious purr he had started out with, low and sultry and clearly meant to tempt Kartein into making bad decisions.
Jisuk wasn’t so sure how much Kayden’s offered promise was actually worth, considering that the guy fully believed he could defeat anyone who looked at him funny. Doubly so now that Kayden had more or less confirmed that he absolutely could kick the living tar out of anyone in existence. For someone as powerful as Kayden, it seemed unlikely that he’d ever come across someone who’d make him doubt his ability to win a fight. Still, Jisuk was shocked that he’d made a promise of such nature at all. Bloodthirsty megalomaniacs like Kayden weren’t known for agreeing to play it safe. Kartein had a hell of a sway over Kayden’s actions, and that was even without this weird mutually beneficial dating-agreement.
There came again the slight pop of awakened powers being used, this time accompanied by a brief flash of light that Jisuk could see even through his closed eyes. Jisuk wondered if Kayden and Kartein had sealed the deal through an actual Contract. It seemed excessive to do for what amounted to more or less an agreement to date each other, but who was Jisuk to judge? Only two of the people in the room would be getting any in the near future, and neither of them were him.
“Shut up, you. Fine, we’ll be… exclusively intertwined or whatever you want to call it. Damn pushy bastard,” Kartein grumbled, though his annoyance was clearly only for show.
Jisuk wondered briefly if this was the type of thing he ought to inform his sister of. Marriages between powerful awakeners tended to be of international importance, and while Kayden and Kartein weren’t exactly hitched, it was close enough. Not that Jisuk intended to shout to entire world that the two scariest people on earth were shacking up, but it might have been a nice tip off for his sister. On second thought, though, maybe it was a bad idea to share that information, even to someone as trustworthy as Jiyoung. The last thing Jisuk needed to do was implicate his association, his family, with something that might piss off Kayden. He’d already nuked one Korean Awakener Association, and Jisuk was not going to be responsible for putting Shinhwa as the next number on the shitlist.
Jisuk waited a good long while before he came to the conclusion that Jiwoo’s terrifying mentors had left the room. Hesitantly, he opened his eyes, and was graced with the blessed view of an empty living room. The moon had set, though the sun had yet to peek above the horizon, and the room was bathed in a hazy dawn glow. Jisuk hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, but he had survived the night, and that was enough.
Jisuk heaved a great and audible sigh of relief and ran his hand through his hair. “Thank fuck it’s over,” he whispered, nearly delirious with glee that he had not been smote into ash.
He had just settled himself into a more comfortable position, one that didn’t make his legs go numb, and set himself to try and catch at least some sleep, when Jisuk felt a great weight land on his chest and push the air from his lungs. His eyes flew open in shock, and much to Jisuk’s dismay, the heavy weight was none other than Casein Nitrate who, despite the limitation of his cat features, managed to look monumentally pissed. The cat had his claws extended and, more importantly, the air around him visibly crackled with electricity.
Curtain — Jisuk was pretty sure that’s what Jiwoo had called the white cat — joined suit and hopped onto Jisuk’s chest as well. Curtain looked far less angry, but something about the cat had always felt sinister. Maybe it was the was its eyes almost bulged out of its head, or maybe it was the way that the cat always seemed to carry itself; like it was missing something fundamental and inherent to normal cats. It didn’t matter what Jisuk thought in that moment, because Curtain slunk up next to the fat one and batted at the clawed paw that had seemed ready to slash Jisuk’s throat.
“Why is it always this one?” Curtain sounded almost exasperated, if cats could even feel such an emotion.
Casein Nitrate huffed and did his best cat-approximation of a shrug. “Beats the hell outta me. He sure does make a nuisance of himself, though.”
As the white cat hummed in thought, Jisuk was struck with the most horrifying realization yet; when he first thought the voices from the basement belonged to the fat cat and the white one, he hadn’t been wrong, after all. It made perfect sense, too much sense, even. Jiwoo’s special cats acted human, they were far stronger than even could be expected of awakened animals, they could talk, one healed while the other busted heads. They sounded exactly like Kayden and Kartein, and the cats were notably missing whenever the two awakeners were around. The timeline matched up, too. Jiwoo acquired the fat cat around the same time that Kayden was said to have touched down in Korea, and the white cat showed up not long after Kartein first came to heal Jiwoo. Kayden and Kartein were Jiwoo’s freak cats.
Jisuk was going to die.
The Kayden cat said something, and having been ignored by a reeling Jisuk, stomped on the boy’s chest in displeasure.
Jisuk could only widen his eyes in panic, though if it was possible for him to have scrambled away, he would have. Instead, he could only gape stupidly at the two very powerful, and very angry, awakeners disguised as cats. “Wuh?”
“I said,” Kayden cat stomped again which made it very difficult for Jisuk to catch his breath, “that the only reason I’m not killing you is because it would make Jiwoo very sad.”
Jisuk nodded his head frantically and thanked every higher power he could think of that Jiwoo was so beloved by everyone who met him.
“And because I am doing you the great favor of not blasting you into a thousand tiny pieces,” continued Kayden, heedless of Jisuk’s fear, “you are going to repay that favor by not saying a single word about whatever it is you think you heard tonight.”
Again, Jisuk nodded, “Yes, sir… sirs! I heard nothing at all, no one said anything, and no one had anyone pinned to anything and I uh… I’ve been asleep this whole time. Goodnight.”
Jisuk forced his body to go lax beneath the two cats as he squeezed his eyes as tightly shut as possible. He tried not to wince as he belatedly realized that he’d let them know that he not only had heard too much, but had seen too much as well. Oh well, Kayden had already said he wouldn’t kill Jisuk, and he couldn’t go back on his word without upsetting Jiwoo.
Kayden harrumphed, but hopped off Jisuk’s chest, allowing the boy to finally breathe properly. The much lighter weight of Kartein’s cat form lingered a smidge longer, tapping Jisuk twice before also hopping down to the ground.
The sun started to creep up the sky as Jisuk tried desperately to calm his erratic heartbeat. He still knew too much and was probably indebted to those two for forever now, but at least he was alive. For now.
God, fuck, Jisuk hated the summer.