Kaya's eyes locked onto his, and this time, she noticed something new—something she hadn't caught before.
At first, it had been all about the ears. The ridiculous, too-real brown rabbit ears that made her question if she was dreaming or just suffering forest madness. But now, now that the initial shock had passed, her gaze fell onto his eyes. And that's where the next surprise hit her.
Blue.
Not just blue—brilliant blue. Not the kind you'd find in regular people. No. These eyes were shining. Not glossy or wet. Not dull like glass. But glimmering. Alive. Like twin sapphires catching the moonlight. Or maybe... the kind of blue you only see in rare, flawless gemstones buried deep under the earth.
She stared, her breath catching slightly.
Then—poof—the man's face flushed, full tomato mode. And it didn't stop there. His neck, his ears, his damn arms turned red like someone had switched on the embarrassment setting and cranked it to max.
And as if that wasn't enough, he raised a hand to cover his mouth—almost shyly—and stammered, "I... I, uh... thank you."
Kaya blinked, completely thrown. Was he blushing? Because of a compliment she didn't even say out loud?
The sheer absurdity of the moment pulled her right out of her daze. She shook her head slightly, snapping herself back to reality. No more staring contests with gemstone-eyed rabbit men.
Cold tone reinstated, she narrowed her eyes and asked, "Alright. Enough. What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, in a pitch-black forest, all alone? ".
The man looked at her, confusion clouding his expression.
"This place… is my home."
"What?" Kaya frowned. His voice was too soft, almost like a whisper lost in the wind.
She stepped closer, narrowing her eyes. "I asked you a question. Speak louder."
He repeated, barely above a murmur, his voice strangely delicate for a man of his build. "This is my home."
It was so soft, so fragile, Kaya almost laughed out of disbelief. A man this bulky, speaking like a newlywed bride trying not to wake her in-laws?
She tilted her head, tone sharp with disbelief. "Louder."
He flinched, then raised his voice just enough. "This place is my home. I just live a bit away from here."
Kaya blinked, then gave a slow nod. "Oh? Is that so?"
A second later, her brows knitted together. "Wait a minute." Her eyes scanned his face with scrutiny. "I was here till morning. Didn't see you. Didn't see anyone. So tell me—how can this be your home?"
The man met her gaze, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Believe me, it is," he said, quietly.
Her patience was thinning. "Speak louder, would you?"
His face turned red in frustration, and then he shouted, "We just live a bit away from here!"
Normally, Kaya would never make such a rookie mistake—lowering her gun while facing a potential threat. But this man… there was something off about him. Not in a dangerous way. His eyes—too clear, too unguarded. No malice. No trickery. Just… strange honesty.
Still, she didn't trust easily. Couldn't afford to. But she also couldn't afford to waste her last few bullets either.
She glanced down at the creature sprawled at her feet. The hyena—or whatever it used to be—was grotesquely large, far beyond its natural size. Its twisted limbs and bloated frame made her stomach churn.
If a simple scavenger could mutate like this, what the hell would happen if she ran into something bigger? An elephant? A bear?
Her grip tightened on the weapon.
If a hyena could become this, then by that logic… wouldn't a bear become a walking disaster? A tower of muscle and rage? And an elephant—gods forbid—wouldn't even need to charge to flatten everything in its path.
The thought alone was enough to make her feel the weight of her dwindling ammo.
She let out a slow breath and finally lowered the barrel. "Lucky you," she muttered, eyeing the man with a mixture of warning and wary curiosity. "I'm not in the mood to waste a bullet".
.
.
.
Sitting face to face, the tension was almost laughable—if it wasn't so damn weird.
The man—Cutie, as he claimed with zero shame—sat stiffly across from Kaya, his back straight like a schoolboy about to get scolded. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead, sliding down the side of his face like they were in a damn race. Kaya, on the other hand, sat cross-legged, arms folded, eyes narrowed into full-blown daggers.
She wasn't even trying to hide her glare anymore.
'It's fucking real,' she thought, her eyes locked on those ridiculous… ears.
Yeah. Rabbit ears. Brown, velvety, twitching ever-so-slightly ears perched on top of this grown-ass man's head like it was the most normal thing in the world.
Kaya tilted her head, squinting.
Nope. Still there.
She had been hoping—praying—they were props. Maybe some hyper-realistic cosplay thing, like how bald guys wear wigs that somehow blend in with their scalp and make you question everything.
But these ears? Nah.
They moved. They twitched. They flinched when she stared too hard.
No plastic prop could do that. Not even the best Hollywood SFX team could make this look that natural.
And worse—worse—they matched his damn hair. Color, texture, everything.
Kaya sat back, arms still folded. Her jaw tightened.
"You're telling me those aren't glued on?" she finally asked, deadpan.
At her words, the man looked up, tilting his head like a puzzled pup. "Glu… glu?" he echoed, blinking slowly.
Kaya raised a brow. "What?"
"Uh… gulu… glu?" he repeated, nodding with odd certainty, as if trying to convince himself more than her.
She took a small step back, utterly thrown off. "Wait—are you trying to say 'glue'?"
The man nodded enthusiastically now. "Yeah… g-g… gulu. Glue."
Kaya stared at him, baffled. "Okay, hold on." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "You do know English, right? Just… basic stuff?"