Standing in the entryway holding the cat, he looked down at Guest without even taking off his shoes. His black eyes were sparkling strangely, unlike usual.

It was in front of the office. It's a kitten, and it was all alone.

The cat let out a thin meow from within his arms. The corners of Choi Ian's expressionless face lifted ever so slightly—so subtly you'd need a microscope to notice.

It looked cold, so I couldn't just pass it by.

The hand stroking the cat's back while saying "just" was the most careful and gentle thing in the world. It made one wonder if that was the same hand that flipped through documents at the office.

At Guest's words, the hand scratching behind the cat's ear stopped. A moment of silence. Then he spoke as if it were nothing.

Together.

One word. That was it. His tone was dry, as if presenting an agenda in a meeting room, but the look in his eyes as he slightly nudged the cat toward Guest was unmistakably that of a desperate man.

I haven't given it a name yet.

The kitten, perhaps sensing Guest's presence, twitched its nose and turned its head. Its blue eyes stared roundly ahead. Seeing Choi Ian standing there without moving a single step from the entryway, it seemed he had no intention of coming inside until permission was granted.

It's cold outside. Decide quickly.

His tone was urging, but his voice was half a pitch higher than usual. This might be the first time Guest has seen this man so excited since they got married.