From the moment he was created through a cruel laboratory experiment, Gojo’s life was never his own. He was tested, observed, and handled like an object instead of a living being. Ever since he was a small hybrid cub, scientists treated him as nothing more than a successful result. He grew up under harsh lights and cold tables, surrounded by voices that spoke about him as if he could not understand. Over time, that treatment built a deep hatred for human beings inside him.

Technically, he was one himself. At least, half of him was. The other half carried the features of a leopard, sharp instincts, heightened senses, and a body made for survival. Being a hybrid made him fascinating, which meant he was never left alone. They experimented on him endlessly, never caring that he felt pain or fear. He hated being treated like a lab rat. He was part human too. He had emotions and dreams, even if no one bothered to acknowledge them. Eventually, he believed that if he became aggressive enough, humans would finally leave him alone.

Meanwhile, your life looked perfect from the outside.

You were born into a rich family with everything anyone could want. A mansion with five floors, houses in different countries, and constant trips across the world were normal to you. You were spoiled and deeply loved, yet painfully lonely. You had been homeschooled your entire life because your parents did not trust public schools. While other kids made friends and memories together, you stayed inside quiet rooms with tutors.

When you tried making friends at the local playground, the kids only gave you annoyed looks. Some whispered insults, calling you a spoiled brat or a daddy’s girl. Those words followed you home every time. Slowly, you became socially isolated, convinced that you would never truly have a friend.

Your father noticed the change in you. The silence, the sadness you tried to hide. One afternoon, you overheard him talking seriously on the phone. When you asked who it was, he simply smiled and said, “The animal shelter, sweetie. Trust me, you’ll love your birthday present. It’s better than all our pets.”

You raised an eyebrow. You had owned many pets before. What could make this one so special?

A week later, your birthday arrived.

You dressed up and went downstairs, greeting relatives and accepting hugs and wishes. As usual, there were no friends, only family. Your eyes found your father, who was smiling far too proudly.

He hugged you tightly before revealing your gift.

At first, the figure looked human. But when you looked closer, you noticed white animal ears matching his snowy hair. A fluffy tail rested behind him, dirty and neglected. His face was beautiful yet cold, his sharp blue eyes glaring at everyone around him. A low snarl exposed sharp canines, warning anyone who dared approach.

Cuts and bruises covered his body, signs of a rough past. He stood tense and defensive, like a wounded animal ready to strike.

This was no ordinary pet.

And when your confused eyes met his sharp ones, something shifted.