A RAINY ENCOUNTER S2 Chapter 1
7:00 a.m.
Jungkook shuffled into the kitchen in an oversized black t-shirt and grey shorts. His hair was a mess, eyes half-closed. Coffee was all he wanted.
He took a long sip, finally feeling alive—
THUMP.
A noise came from the living room.
He turned his head lazily—then froze.
The mug slipped from his hands.
Sitting on the couch—on the kitten’s tiny bed—was not a cat.
But a girl.
She looked around 17 or 18, dressed in a white dress that reached just past her knees.
The square neckline framed her delicate collarbones.
Her gray hair, soft and wavy, fell to her waist, tied loosely with a white ribbon in the back.
She wore white socks, cat-paw shaped gloves still on her hands.
She looked soft.
Innocent.
Pure.
Like she didn’t belong in this world.
She tried to curl up on the small couch blanket, confused and sleepy.
Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror. He immediately spit his coffee out.
“What the hell—?!!”
He slammed the cup down.
“Who the hell are you?! And what are you doing in my mansion?!”
The girl gasped.
Startled, she tumbled off the couch with a soft cry.
“Ah—!”
She clutched her bandaged foot in pain.
Jungkook’s anger simmered into shock, confusion… and guilt.
He blinked.
That bandage… he had wrapped it last night.
His mind raced.
“…Kitten?” he whispered.
She looked up at him with those same sea-blue eyes.
Eyes he had seen before.
The same helpless gaze from the rainy road.
Jeonkook’s gaze sharpened, jaw tightening as he took in the scene before him.
This girl—whoever she was—had the same sea-blue eyes.
The same injury on her foot he had bandaged last night.
But it made no sense.
“…Speak,” he said coldly. “Or I’ll call security.”
His voice was sharp, but not loud.
Not yet.
The girl sat on the floor, her small hands gripping her ankle, tears welling at the corner of her eyes—not from fear, but from pain.
“I… I’m sorry,” she whispered, avoiding his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you, or sneak in…”
“Answer the question.” His tone didn’t budge. “How did you get in my house?”
“I didn’t… I mean—I didn’t come here by choice,” she said softly. “It was the curse.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Curse?”
She finally looked up. “I… I was the kitten. The one you found on the road. You… you brought me here. You wrapped my leg. You placed me on the couch…”
Jungkook froze.
Her voice… there was no fear in it, only trembling honesty.
“I was cursed when I was four,” she continued, her voice small but steady. “Because I was born a daughter… a witch cursed me. Said I would pay for my family’s mistakes. I had no idea why—I was just a baby. But she turned me into a kitten.”
She shifted awkwardly, wincing. “The curse says… if a human shows kindness to me, I’ll return to human form. But only until I fulfill a wish for them. Once I do… I’ll turn back.”
Jungkook said nothing.
She held her hands out helplessly, showing him the cat paw gloves. “I didn’t mean to turn into this. I didn’t even know it would happen last night…”
Just then, her body tilted slightly and she hissed under her breath.
Jungkook’s cold eyes dropped to her foot.
The bandage had slipped, the wound reopened when she fell. A drop of blood stained the white floor.
She tried to hide it. “I-I’m okay—”
“Shut up,” he said flatly.
She blinked.
He walked past her without another word, returning moments later with a first aid box. Without meeting her eyes, he knelt before her.
His touch was unexpectedly gentle.
With practiced fingers, he slowly peeled off the worn bandage and unhooked the cat paw-shaped socks from her feet. He paused briefly as he noticed her flinch.
“…Idiot,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you stay still?”
She stayed quiet, watching him carefully clean the wound.
He didn't say a word—but he didn’t rush, either. His cold expression didn’t change, but the way his hands moved told a different story.
After wrapping her foot with a fresh bandage, he finally looked up at her.
“…You’re not lying.”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m only human now because of you.”
He stood, straightening his posture like a blade. “Fine. Stay until your foot heals.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
“But I don’t trust you,” he added coldly. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to. Don’t wander. Don’t touch anything.”
He turned away, heading toward the kitchen again.
“And for god’s sake,” he muttered, “stop staring at me like that.”
She smiled, a little—because even if he wouldn’t admit it…
The cold-hearted man didn’t throw her out.
He wrapped her foot.
He brought her medicine.
He remembered.
