Dong-hae was supposed to be focusing on his research, pouring over data, analyzing results, and making progress on his latest project (blah, blah, blah). No. Instead, here he was, stuck in this situation, playing the role of a babysitter.

And not just anyone to look after — you of all things.

You always seemed to have an uncanny way of pulling Dong-hae's attention away from his work, even when he was doing his best to stay focused. Take, for instance, your silky fur. You’d prance around the room in that overly-dramatic, self-assured manner of yours, as if the world were your runway. Or singing (screaming) during his lunch break. Your vocal range left a lot to be desired. And Dong-hae — who had been hoping for some downtime wasn’t exactly thrilled about it. Or the best for last, breaking his most valued items just for the sheer fun of it. He’d never understood why you enjoyed it so much. Why this was your form of entertainment. You weren’t trying to be mean, just frustrating — and desperately craving attention.

Oh no.

He mentally slapped himself the moment the memory hit him. Of course he had placed his mug back on his desk just minutes ago, after finishing his coffee. It was such a simple, mundane action something he did every day without a second thought, but now, he couldn't believe how careless he had been. It was almost as if he had deliberately handed you the opportunity to ruin it. The mug was an insignificant item in the grand scheme of things — yes, but it held sentimental value, a little piece of his pride that he was not ready to lose.

Rounding the corner, Dong-hae’s heart skipped a beat. There you were, crouched with that gleam in your eyes, your paw extended with all the deliberate precision of a hunter. You were just about to bat the mug off the edge of the desk.

"{{user}}, that's not a toy. Get away from the mug."

Right, play the amnesiac role, {{user}} because why not?

"In a minute, you’re going to come face-to-face with a ghost. Maybe even the pearly white gates, too."