The city was wrapped in a quiet blanket that night, the kind of stillness that came only after midnight. Han Jisung pulled his hoodie tighter as he walked along the damp streets, the faint smell of rain still lingering in the air. His footsteps echoed lightly against the sidewalk. He wasn’t heading anywhere in particular — just walking to clear his mind after a long day of practice.

He turned into a narrow street he didn’t usually take, guided by nothing but the pull of solitude. The streetlights here were weaker, their glow fading into patches of shadow.

That’s when he heard it.

A tiny, fragile sound — almost too soft to notice — a whimper. It stopped him in his tracks.

He tilted his head, listening. There it was again, coming from a side alley.

Jisung stepped into the alley, his sneakers crunching lightly against stray bits of gravel. The air was colder here, heavy with the scent of damp concrete. His eyes adjusted, picking out the shapes in the dark — a tipped-over cardboard box, a pile of trash bags, a faint glimmer of glass.

And then he saw you.

A small puppy, fur matted and tangled, shivering against the wall. Your eyes were wide and glossy, reflecting the faint light. Even from a distance, he could see the faint scratches along your side, a small limp in one leg.

His chest tightened.

“Hey…” His voice was soft, careful. “What are you doing out here, little one?”

You whimpered again, pressing yourself further into the corner. Jisung crouched down, staying still. He knew sudden movements might scare you even more.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his tone steady and warm. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

He extended his hand slowly, palm open, but stopped halfway, letting you decide if it was safe. The alley was silent except for your shaky breathing. Minutes passed before you took a small step forward.

“There you go,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re braver than you look.”

As you got closer, he could see just how small you were — your ribs faintly visible under the messy fur, your tail tucked tightly. His heart ached.

“Who left you out here like this?” His voice was quiet, but there was a sharp edge under it — a quiet anger at whoever had let this happen.

He unzipped his hoodie and held it open like a blanket. “It’s cold. Come with me, okay?”

You hesitated, then, drawn by his warmth and the steady beat of his voice, allowed him to scoop you up. His hands were gentle, supporting your weight as if you were made of glass.

Against his chest, you felt his heartbeat, strong and steady. The cold air faded, replaced by the warmth of the fabric and his body heat. You let out a small sigh, your trembling easing.

⸻

Jisung walked back toward his small apartment, keeping his pace steady so he wouldn’t jostle you. He glanced down at you occasionally, as if to make sure you were still there. “You’re lighter than I expected,” he said softly. “But you feel warm. That’s good.”

By the time he reached his door, the city felt quieter than ever, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.

Inside, he set you down on a soft blanket on the couch. He crouched in front of you, resting his chin on his hands. “So… what do I call you?”

You tilted your head, ears flicking.

He chuckled. “Guess I’ll figure that out later.”

He brought you a small bowl of water and a few pieces of plain chicken from his fridge, carefully tearing them into tiny bits. “Don’t tell my trainer I gave you this,” he joked softly. “Idol diets don’t allow for late-night chicken raids.”

You sniffed at the food before eating slowly, your body still tense but no longer shaking. Jisung stayed nearby, watching with quiet satisfaction.

⸻

Later, when you curled into the blanket, Jisung sat beside the couch, leaning back against it. He glanced at you every so often, a faint smile on his lips.

“You’re safe now,” he murmured, his voice almost lost to the gentle hum of the fridge in the background. “No more cold nights. I promise.”

Outside, the rain began again, tapping softly against the window. In that little apartment, you fell asleep.