Chanyeol never thought he'd get bored of his hobbies, but playing video games for nine hours straight, taking two hour naps, and marathoning the entire Star Wars series has made him feel totally and undeniably bored.

He'd usually be in the water around now, teaching class or just swimming on his own. Check and re-check air tanks and equipment. Fart around on his boat. Just being outside energizes him.

“This is all your fault,” he grumbles to his foot. It sits innocently, wrapped snug in a bandage and bulky boot up on a pillow. Totally innocent. Carefree.

It doesn't hurt so much right now, at least, but he thinks the doctor shouldn't have barred him from the water. He doesn't need both legs to stand in water, and he could probably make propulsion work with a stiff foot. He just wouldn't get anywhere all that fast.

“This suuuuucks!” Chanyeol moans to the ceiling. He doesn't remember talking to things so much before spraining his ankle. He was set for a long break, at least. His fridge and cabinets were full of food; it was like Karma waited to be a little but didn't want to be too rough, so it waited until Chanyeol had gone grocery shopping.

So he can be miserable and well-fed, eating his feelings while becoming one with his sofa to the tune of favorite movies.

He can’t let his routine go completely, though, and grabs a small plastic watering can from the corner of his countertop. After his students heard about his accident, he’s on a first name basis with the boy who delivers flower arrangements and plants. Including the ones from his parents, sister, and Jongdae—although his gifted plant is made of plastic—Chanyeol ran out of room to keep them inside, so they found a home on his balcony. They’ll probably be shriveled by the time winter hits, so he won’t have to worry about hauling them all inside.

The light from his apartment illuminates his balcony enough for him to navigate the pots and leaves, but it also shows a strange lump nearest to the railing. It’s rather large and starts to move when Chanyeol nudges it with his watering can, eventually sitting up. Eyes flash yellow in the light.

“Um—” The eyes close, and Chanyeol notices them shake with a full-bodied shiver. He hastily sets the watering can aside and sees a man maybe his age but smaller and more compact. “Here,” he offers his hands. “Can you stand? Are you hurt?”

The man cautiously takes Chanyeol’s hands, which engulf his, and lets himself be pulled his feet. Upright, he opens his mouth, and Chanyeol assumes he’s going to offer some kind of explanation, but he just yawns and squeezes Chanyeol’s hands.

“Come inside,” Chanyeol says. “I’ll get you water or something.” He leaves the man on the sofa and fills a glass with water, setting water on the stove to boil for tea, but he keeps an eye on the stranger. There are no cuts or bruises or any signs of blood. Nothing that suggests a fall or a long climb. He’s not sweating or squirming. He just appears tired and strangely relaxed.

Chanyeol offers the man the glass of water, choosing to gentle pressing him for information. “You were asleep on my balcony when I went to water my plants. How did you even get up there? This is the seventh floor.” It's possible that the stranger could have scaled the exterior wall, he supposes. He's seen people do some crazy and amazing things; his friend's shy roommate performs parkour and can literally run up walls. Chanyeol still thinks he's a ninja.

Maybe he fell from a higher balcony.

Maybe even on purpose…

But wouldn’t there be some sort of evidence?

“I'm sorry for the inconvenience...and for frightening you.” He drinks the water, shaking a little. Chanyeol gets up to grab a blanket from the armchair.

“It's alright.” He carefully tucks the blanket over the man, at a complete loss as what to do. “My name is Chanyeol. This is my home.”

The man offers a small smile, and Chanyeol feels warm. “My name is Minseok.”

"I'd say 'nice to meet you,' but these circumstances are a bit strange..." He's met people on balconies before, but the big difference is he knew they were there or expected someone there. Minseok showing up out of nowhere raises many many questions. "Where are you from?"

Maybe he'll pick up on Chanyeol's curiosity and offer a perfectly reasonable explanation.

"The mountains."

Or he'll offer the vaguest response possible.

"I love the mountains, but I don't think I could live there. I like the city too much." Chanyeol rests a cheek on the table, taking the weight off his injured foot. "How'd you end up here?"

"I walked."

"Are you backpacking?"

Without a backpack.

Minseok looks around the apartment, and Chanyeol thinks that he's being ignored when the stranger's eyes fall on him again. It's the sort of gaze that's heavy, weighing the person on the receiving end down. Pinning them in place. "Sort of."

His phone rings, playing an obnoxious club song that he'd chosen so he would actually find his phone and answer it or turn off the alarm. Minseok nearly jumps out of his seat, spilling some water on himself and the blanket.

“Sorry! Sorry, it's awful, I know, but it makes me pay attention.” It's Jongdae, pulling double-duty and covering for him at the diving school while he's on medical leave. “I gotta take this. I'm sorry.” He hobbles to his bedroom for privacy, trusting his guest will continue to behave. “Hey, Jongdae.”

“Chanyeol!” Jongdae greets loudly. Someone’s shouting in the background. Probably Jongdae’s roommate, Baekhyun. “How goes the R-and-R?”

“Well, it was going well until just about now.”

He hears the rustling that indicates Jongdae's sitting up from his usual lazy slouch. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“I'm fine! It's just...” he lowers his voice, even though he's closed his bedroom door. “There was some guy on my balcony just now.”

“Chanyeol. You live on the seventh floor.”

“I know! He was sleeping, I guess... I thought maybe he jumped? Or fell? Climbed? I dunno. He’s not hurt, that I can tell, and he's awake, now, so I brought him inside. He's nice and not confused or anything...” He sighs, pushing his hair off his face. “I don't know what to do. It’s kinda late. Do I call the cops? The hospital?”

“Well,” Jongdae drawls, and his tone calms Chanyeol a bit. Jongdae's the more rational between them. No less caring. “Get what you can out of him—name, address, phone number, and if he can't remember any of that, then I'd say take him to the hospital. If he's coherent and answers everything, then ask what he wants to do. There could be a reasonable explanation he's there, but he is a stranger, Chanyeol. So be careful.” Chanyeol’s been known to be too trusting, and it’s burned him in the past. He remains optimistic of everyone, though.

“Of course. I think he's a good guy, I mean—It's not like he knocked my door down, tied me up, and my toes or something.”

“What.”

“It's an irrational fear I have, but I have it all the same. Don't tell anyone.”

“Chanyeol,” Jongdae says softly, “would you like me to come over?”

Company would be nice. It’s miserable by himself. Jongdae can sometimes come across as intimidating, though, especially when he’s taken on the role of protector. “No, you've got class tomorrow. You need to rest. I'll be fine. Really.” He smiles, knowing Jongdae can hear it in his voice, somehow. “Thanks for calling, though.”

“Gotta make sure you're not malfunctioning without me. Baekhyun says hi, by the way; he wants us to have dinner or something soon, but I think he just wants to steal your crutches on the stairs.”

“Rude. Tell him I value my life more than I value his, so I’d be sure to fall on him.” He hears a bark of laughter and smiles.

“You can tell he’s real worried.” Jongdae scoffs. “Take care, Chanyeol. We’ll talk later.”

“Bye bye.” Chanyeol hangs up just as someone starts wailing. There's at least one nearby neighbor who's abusive. Maybe they’re beating each other again.

The floor and walls aren't very thin, so people need to work at being heard. There's a lot of shouting and crying, but for all the times he and others have called security or the police, it keeps happening, so they're wrong, or whoever the people are cover themselves somehow.

His living room is empty, but the balcony door is open again. Minseok is standing outside, looking out. Closer, Chanyeol thinks the man's smiling.

“What's going on?”

Minseok looks at him, and he's not smiling. His eyes are bright, though; he's obviously feeling better. The blanket drapes low across his back like a shawl. “No idea. Someone just started screaming.”

“Like, in pain? Are they okay?” Chanyeol tries leaning over the balcony railing to see, but the upstairs balconies are empty and solid cement. He can't see through cement. The apartments on either side of him are lit, but he can’t see any movement. “You think I should, like, call someone?” As he speaks, he sees flashing lights in the distance. Someone must have called, already; they’re heading right to his building.

Sirens wail, screeching as the ambulance gets closer. “Maybe somebody died,” Minseok remarks.

“That's a little morbid, don't you think?”

Minseok shrugs. He’s the easily distracted type, apparently, because he points to Chanyeol’s leg. “What happened to your leg?”

Chanyeol looks down at himself, a throb of pain reminding him that he’s not supposed to be on his feet for long. “I sprained it pretty bad after work a couple days ago.” Walking with Jongdae after a late night, Chanyeol had missed the sidewalk completely, tried to catch himself, but fell—hard—on the outside of his foot. “So I’m gimping around as little as possible. All I can do is wait to heal.”

“Like wounded prey.”

“Yeah, although that is kind of a weird way of putting it. I'm definitely not out-swimming a shark or anything like this, though.” He can walk short distances okay, but the longer he's on his feet, the more painful it gets, and the doctor warned him about that—more than once, even—which is why he was sent home with crutches. They're behind Chanyeol's bedroom door. Jongdae gifted him a cane from when he had busted his own foot, and that is hanging over the door handle to Chanyeol's pantry.

Someday, he'll learn. That day is not today.

They both lean over the balcony railing to watch a pair of paramedics rush into the front door of the building, a stretcher pushed between them.

“I hope whoever it is is okay,” he says softly.

“Why?”

Chanyeol blinks, momentarily stunned. Usually, his comment is considered facetious. “What?”

“Maybe whatever happened was deserved.”

This guy is strange. “Maybe...but who are we to say if it was or not? It’s probably someone having a heart attack; there’s an old man living a couple floors down who’s had, like, three already.” He seems to live on fast food and soap operas. Everyone is surprised he’s managed to pull through. “Whatever, though. We won’t know anything until tomorrow.” When the rumor mill starts turning.

“How are you feeling?” They return indoors; Chanyeol locks the balcony door.

“I’m fine.”

“No...headache or dizziness or anything? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“What’s that?”

Chanyeol’s never had to explain a hospital before. Even Jongin’s niece and nephew, toddlers, understand the purpose of medicine and doctors, although they fight yearly physicals. “A place with doctors, healers, to go to when you’re hurt.”

Minseok looks at himself. “I’m fine.”

‘Do you have someplace to go? Your home?”

“No.” If the man doesn’t want to tell him anything, then Chanyeol won’t push. Sometimes, things just aren’t his business. He waves a hand and extends his arm, gesturing to the hall. “You can crash here for the night, then. I live by myself, so no big deal. I'll show you around real quick.”

Chanyeol begins the tour in his modern bathroom. He had been rather excited to get a place with an actual bath tub, although it's rather small for someone his size. “This is the bathroom. Shower, toilet, sink... Oh, you said you lived in the mountains, right? Did...Did your house have plumbing?”

“I didn’t live in a house.” Minseok tilts his head quizzically. “What's plumbing?”

“That's a no.” Chanyeol sighs. “Uh, this handle here?” He leans over the tub and pulls the levered handle. “This turns the water on, and moving it up more will increase the heat of the water. Moving it down will lower the temperature, and pushing it all the way down like this,” he demonstrates, “turns it off completely. To turn the shower head on,” he points up, and Minseok obediently looks, “pull this little plunger thingy.” Chanyeol wants to laugh when Minseok physically jolts at the noise of water being diverted. It takes a second, then a spray of water cascades from the shower head. Minseok jumps again, looking just like a kitten, and creeps closer when the water does nothing more than fall.

Inventor of indoor plumbing, thank you, Chanyeol prays silently. I would never survive in the wild. He’d be fine as a fish; he loves swimming. They don’t need to bathe, either, depending on plantlife to rub parasites and old scales off or other, smaller creatures to pick their scales clean. It must be like spa day everyday.

Treat yourself.

He continues his tour of modern amenities. “Toilet's simpler. Once you're done doing your...you know. Business or whatever. You just push the lever on the side of the tank here.” Minseok seems amazed at the swirl of water. It reminds Chanyeol of the videos he's watched of cats playing with toilets. He'd hate to have those families’ water bill.

“How does it work?”

“I honestly do not know.” An excellent question. He’s always taken it for granted; as long as it works, no questions asked. “It can't be that difficult, though,” he muses. “I think modern plumbing has been a thing, generally speaking, not here, for over one hundred years.” Great. Something else he can look up in his infinite spare time, now.

The door to the immediate left of the bathroom is Chanyeol’s room, which he doesn’t show, because it’s a complete mess and not the kind of place that would impress anyone; directly across from the bathroom is what’s technically a guest room, but Chanyeol has his computer and “stuff” in there, instead of an extra bed.

“And then you know the living room and kitchen.” The water cooler belches, releasing large air bubbles, and Minseok flinches.

“You’re kind of a scaredy cat, aren’t you?”

Minseok glares at him, and while there is some actual heat behind it, Chanyeol can’t help but think it’s kind of cute. His weakness is small people trying to be intimidating. Like a kitten standing up to a German Shepherd.

The doorbell rings, and Minseok jumps once again.

Chanyeol doesn’t comment and walks to the door with a weird feeling in his gut. It’s too late to be anything good, particularly when paramedics are in the building.

A uniformed police officer stands in the hall. She introduces herself as Officer Bae.

“Sorry to disturb you. We’re looking into a suspicious death this evening. Are you the only one home?”

“Uh, no…” He looks behind him, but Minseok’s standing beside him. Chanyeol sneezes into his elbow.

The officer looks at them strangely, then opens a notebook. “Did either of you hear anything suspicious or out of the ordinary tonight?”

“Yelling,” Chanyeol replies, unsure if he should elaborate or not; he doesn’t want to get anyone uninvolved in trouble. “That’s nothing new, though. There’s a couple that fights a lot.”

“What about unfamiliar people nearby or inside the building? Anyone lurking or who didn’t seem to belong?”

Aside from a random man on his balcony? “No.” He can’t read what she’s writing, but it’s either shorthand or nothing much, because she clicks her pen and slips it into the rings of her notebook. “Um, can you tell us who died?”

Officer Bae considers for a moment, but they’ll find out soon enough. It’s no secret when something happens in an apartment. “Miss Son in apartment 7E.” Chanyeol lives in 7C. “Her roommate found her tonight, after she returned from work.”

Poor Seulgi. No wonder they’re considering it suspicious if Son Seungwan is dead; she’s so young. Chanyeol knows them. They’re both really sweet girls. He’d just seen them a couple days ago. They were excited about the stray cat they’d befriended and were planning to sneak into their apartment, swearing Chanyeol to secrecy.

Officer Bae asks a few more questions, noting their names and address. She must assume they live together when Minseok doesn’t offer up a different apartment number or address. “If we have any more questions, we’ll be in touch.”

“Yeah… good night.” Once the door is closed, Chanyeol stares at it for a full minute before realizing his right arm is really warm. He looks at it but sees the top of Minseok’s head. “I feel bad for Seulgi. Maybe I’ll have Jongdae take her on a dive...” He can vaguely hear knocking as the officer makes her way down the hall, asking questions door-to-door. “Nothing to do now, though.” He yawns and asks, “Are you okay sleeping on the sofa...hyung? How old are you?”

“Older than you.”

“You don’t even know how old I am!”

“I don’t have to. I know I’m older.”

“Okay...hyung, then.”

Minseok leaves his side, and his arm feels cold. Sitting on an end of the sofa, Minseok looks perfectly content with the blanket wrapped over his shoulders again and closed over his folded legs.

“Well, I am going to bed… If you need something and can’t find it lying around right away, just knock, I guess.

Chanyeol leaves him, marveling at how relaxed he looks. When Chanyeol is in a new place, he’s nervous and uncomfortable and goes out of his way to be as polite an unobtrusive as possible. Minseok just...seems to have moved in.

He texts Jongdae after changing into pajamas and answers his phone on the second ring.

“’I’m sorry.’” Jongdae quotes. “What happened?”

“I've adopted the man from my balcony.”

“What.”

“Minseok hyung doesn't even know what a hospital is Jongdae! He's a total mountain man. Lived off the land. Ate bugs and bark and hunted things and stuff, probably.”

“What is he doing in he city, then?”

“I dunno.”

“You didn't ask?”

“That's kind of personal, isn't it?”

“Chanyeol, he could be confused. Not knowing what a hospital is? Maybe he hit his head and has a concussion. Amnesia. He could be emotionally unbalanced, and you're not gonna find out until you wake up to a knife in your neck. Instead of sitting around binge-watching Star Trek—”

“Star Wars.” Star Trek is on his list of things to re-watch.

“Close enough—Be proactive and help this guy, since you're so determined. Don't just let things skate along on their own.”

“I know, but I also kind of told the cops they could find him here.”

“You called the police?”

“They were already here.”

“What? Why?”

“Son Seungwan just died, and they’re considering it a ‘suspicious death.’”

“Chanyeol… That could be a murder, and you have a strange balcony man in your apartment.”

“Hyung had nothing to do with it.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s clean and, like, really calm. Except when he hears something unexpected, then he jumps, and it’s actually cute.”

“Oh my God,” Jongdae mutters.

“What?”

“I’m coming over tomorrow.”

“You have class!”

“They’ll understand if I cancel a day. I’m worried, Chanyeol.”

“You don’t have to be. I’m fine.”

“Right now, maybe.”

“What, you think he’s gonna kill me in my sleep?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know him. You don’t know him. Who knows? He could act out your irrational fear.”

“Oh…” Chanyeol shakes his head and rolls into his back. “I doubt it. He’s too normal.” He hears Jongdae sigh softly and senses the strong eye roll.

“Just be safe, Chanyeol,” he finally says. “I’ll send out an email now, canceling class—”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Either I drop by or Kyungsoo does.”

Chanyeol can imagine Kyungsoo’s respond to this whole night. He doesn’t always show emotion on his face, but he can express a multitude of emotions with a raised eyebrow. “I really don’t want you to have to cancel class...”

“Then I’m calling Kyungsoo. He has tomorrow off. Baekhyun’s been whining about it all week.” There’s an indignant I have not! away from the phone.

“Everything’s fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Ha. I’ll talk to you later.”

They hand up, and Chanyeol drops his phone to his blankets. What does Jongdae expect him to do? He’s not about to kick someone out just because they’re a stranger. He sees the good in everyone, and he likes that. Maybe it’s a little idealistic, but oh well. It’s not failed him, yet.

Chanyeol looks over the arm of the sofa on his way to the bathroom. Minseok’s sprawled out and silent, probably asleep.

He’s harmless, Chanyeol tells his reflection. Toothpaste froth escapes from the corner of his mouth and drops to the sink. Tomorrow I’ll take him wherever he’s going, and that’ll be that. My good deed.

He turns off lights against the little voice asking if it’s the best idea. The officers and paramedics and ambulance have all left. In the quiet of the night, Chanyeol lies awake and thinks about poor Seungwan and Seulgi.

He falls asleep wondering if there’s anything he can do.

His dreams take him outside, into the mountains. He likes being outdoors; he’s always been athletic and adventurous, but these mountains are thickly forested and don’t allow much light to reach the ground. There aren’t any birds or even wind. The only sound is the soft, deliberate crunch of pine needs beneath careful feet behind him. Every time he looks, he only hears himself breathing and a distant, unnatural screech.

Something leaps and knocks him down. Chanyeol catches it on his chest and tries to roll over, to breathe again. There’s a weight holding him down. He wakes up when it’s gone.

Twin flashes of yellow from the foot of his bed raise the hairs on his arms.

“Hyung?”

“I’m sorry.” Minseok replies after a beat. “I tried to be quiet.”

“You were quiet.” Very quiet, considering the land mines of obstacles strewn across his floor. He catches a sneeze in his hand and sniffs. “Did you need something?”

“No.” He bends down and makes a neat stack of books Kyungsoo had brought him when he’d heard about Chanyeol’s injury.

“Okay...”

Minseok moves confidently among the debris. Pants and shirts are folded or tossed into Chanyeol’s laundry hamper. “Your noisy thing has been going off for a while.”

“My noisy thing.” He hears it. His phone. It’s unearthed from among his sheets and blankets; no wonder he could hardly hear it. “Hello?”

“Oh, good, you’re not dead.”

“Hi, Soo. Did Jongdae talk to you?”

“He did, and he’s right to be worried. Not everyone is a charity case or even a friend, Chanyeol.”

“I know, but… What was I supposed to do?” Chanyeol watches Minseok look over his floor, somehow seeing well even in the dark, and apparently deem it enough progress, finally leaving. He doesn’t close the door behind him.

“Anything but what you did do.” Chanyeol puts the phone on speaker and gets up to get dressed. It’s later than he usually wakes up, but he’s been taking advantage of not having to be anywhere and sleeping in. “It’s reckless, to put it simply. You know nothing about this person. And the timing is suspicious, with the death of your neighbor.”

“Would a killer really climb two balconies over from the scene of their crime and fall asleep?”

“I’d say ‘stranger things have happened,’ but I can’t think of anything.” He sighs in a tone much like Jongdae’s. “Anyway, I’m heading over closer to lunch. I’ll pick something up. Don’t do anything too stupid until then, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, but I promise nothing.”

Minseok is on the sofa again, situated so a sunbeam falls across his chest and belly, fast asleep. Chanyeol’s not sure if he should wake him or not; it was a rather eventful evening.

After taking care of his morning beauty regimen, Chanyeol writes a quick note saying he’s going a couple doors down and leaves it on the floor beside the sofa, easily seen.

Seulgi’s mom, a kind woman with a soft voice, answers the door to 7E when Chanyeol knocks, and Seulgi herself is right behind her. Neither look like they’ve slept and have matching red eyes and full luggage beneath them.

Chanyeol shakes his head and opens his arms. “I am so sorry...” Mrs. Kang steps aside, and Seulgi steps in for a hug. She sniffles again, and Chanyeol quickly but gently walks them out of the doorway and to a loveseat.

“They don’t have any news,” Mrs. Kang informs. She perches on the arm of a chair, wringing a tissue between her hands. “I’ve been helping Seulgi pack things; she doesn’t want to stay here, now.”

“Understandable.”

Seulgi pulls back a little, and Chanyeol pats her shoulder. “They won’t even tell me what happened,” she says thickly. “I’d just come home, and it was weird, because the cat would always greet us at the door; he’s so friendly, and it was really cute. I thought he was napping in one of our rooms, but he wasn’t in mine, and Seungwan’s door was closed…” Her eyes look at the closed door but don’t see it. “She was just lying on her bed. I didn’t know she was dead at first. It’s not as though she’d fallen or hurt herself; she just laid there.

“And I couldn’t find the cat. I have no idea where he is or what anyone would want with him!”

“Did you tell the police?”

Seulgi shakes her head. “I didn’t want to get in trouble with the landlord on top of...this...”

“I think he hid until the paramedics came, then get scared and left when the door was open.” It’s plausible, Chanyeol supposes, but they’re still on the seventh floor. A cat would’ve been noticed riding the elevator or pacing up and down flights of stairs.

“Well, I won’t keep you. I’m going to ask Jongdae to take you for a special dive, okay? Bring whoever you want.”

“I don’t know...”

“It’ll be something nice, honey.” Her mother leans over to pet her hair and push it behind her ear. “It’s a good idea.”

Seulgi nods and tries to smile. “Thank you, Chanyeol oppa. Maybe later.”

“Are you going to be okay by yourselves? I could stay for a while.”

Mrs. Kang shakes her head and stands to walk with Chanyeol to the front door. “We’ll be okay, dear. Yerim and Sooyeong are coming with their parents today, so it’ll be a full house.”

“You know I’m just down the hall.” He bends down, and the older woman stands on her toes to hug him. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.”

“Thank you. We’ll let you know about the funeral arrangements, okay?”

Chanyeol nods and looks over her shoulder. Seulgi hasn’t moved, staring at nothing and looking lost. He’s had family die before, but they were all older. It wasn’t unexpected but was still sad.

Minseok is still on the sofa, having only rolled so his back is warmed by the sunbeam. Chanyeol picks up his note and looks around his apartment.

He may as well water his plants now, since he didn’t last night. Kyungsoo won’t be able to use their dehydration against him, then.

It’s nice outside, especially in the sun. He picks up the watering can he’d left out overnight and plucks a leaf to scoop out a floating bug before checking the dirt in every pot the way his mother once taught him, so he won’t over-water anything.

Leaning against the railing, he’s enjoying the warmth on his face when the hairs on his arms stand on end. He has a weird feeling and looks over his shoulder, meeting the intense gaze of a cat.

Chanyeol doesn’t know cat breeds, but this doesn’t look like an average housecat. It’s slender, with long legs and a spotted coat, like a leopard’s. The chest and belly are perfectly white. It has a small head, short white muzzle, and long, rounded ears. Its small head is marked with two prominent dark stripes and a short, narrow white muzzle. Rings encircle the end if its short tail, slung low behind it. Overall, it’s a really cute cat, but he has a feeling it doesn’t care so much about its appearance as much as it does bringing down prey.

And right now, its yellow eyes are focused solely on Chanyeol.

A brief knock on the front door is followed by Kyungsoo calling to Chanyeol and announcing his immediate entrance, using a copy of Chanyeol’s key. The cat’s not moved except to flip an ear back, listening for Kyungsoo while watching Chanyeol closely.

“I bought a family-size this time, not knowing if your guest is still here, but I figure you can have leftovers later—” He reacts faster than Chanyeol, dropping the plastic bag of food and hefting an antique oxygen tank Chanyeol had found at a junk sale over his shoulder, ready to defend.

Chanyeol throws out a hand. “Wait! Don't hurt him!”

“Chanyeol, are you serious right now?” Kyungsoo seethes. “That is not a lapcat!”

“Please, hyung; it’s okay. Just...relax. Trust me.” He's looking at his friend, begging with his eyes for him to put the tank down while reaching for the spotted cat.

Kyungsoo frowns and doesn’t relax. Chanyeol’s too trusting, and today’s the day that will get him in trouble. He's kneeling, holding out both arms, now, and the cat seems to consider Kyungsoo a moment before sauntering over to Chanyeol and sitting in his embrace. Like something out of a fantasy movie, its shape changes, and a man sits where the cat did.

The face is practically the same. The eyes, at least. They're smug and guarded, gauging Kyungsoo from their short distance.

Chanyeol sneezes, and the man jumps, ruining the intimidating effect of his expression. “Kyungsoo, this is Minseok. Hyung, Kyungsoo, one of my best friends.”

He looks silly, now, holding a tank like a bazooka while Chanyeol and Minseok kneel on the floor. Reluctantly, Kyungsoo lowers it. “You’d better have a really good explanation, Park Chanyeol,” he says, picking up the food bag and checking its contents.

“Uh, funny story,” Chanyeol sniffles, “but I have no idea what’s going on.”

a/n: Written for Binghuo Fest. (prompt no.R1036 I found you sleeping on my balcony when I went out to water my plants. Why are you here and more importantly, how did you get up here? We're several floors up.)

The end expresses my state of mind, too. jwj

I didn't really get to it, because once I reached the halfway point, I kind of lost my words, but Minseok is a creature called a "senri" (仙狸). In Chinese folklore, there's a belief that leopard cats that grow old enough are given a divine power to transform into a beautiful human and people's spirits. It's similar to the Japanese nekomata, which some believe came from the Chinese senri.

For those unfamiliar with the species, leopard cats are one half of the original parentage that gives us the household hybrid, Bengals.