Archive of Our Own

Being a cat shifter wasn’t something Iwol had ever particularly hidden, but he also had never outwardly shown it, either. In a world where it was more common to see people walking around with their other selves’ ears and tail out on the street than not, he was considered odd for never actually showing them. 

Everyone had another animal form of themselves in this world, but whether they chose to shift or not was up to them. Either looking fully human, having the characteristics of their other self but still mainly looking human, or fully shifting, people could theoretically do any of the three in any setting. While there were some unspoken rules about politeness in different spaces, generally speaking, the majority of people chose the middle option.

That was why it wasn’t odd to sit in an office with someone who had wings sprouting from their back, or to get on the train and sit next to a person with ears and a tail.

At Hanpyeong Industries, employees had been strongly encouraged to remain in a fully human form throughout the workday. The official reason was to make things easier for those in the office, because while shifting was something everyone could do, allergies to other animals did still exist, but unofficially it had always seemed to be more about control than anything else. The employees who cleaned the buildings after hours, at least, had told Iwol at times when he was the last one left in the office that it did make cleaning easier not to have to sweep up fur or feathers.

Still, it was impossible to never shift. If one didn’t fully shift at least once every month or so, there would be a clear negative impact on their physical and mental health. 

That was one of the many reasons Iwol found the whole thing troublesome. As someone who rarely ever got a full day off, the few he did get, he had to spend at home shifted and unable to do any work. While he could technically go out if he tried, he didn’t want to leave the window of his house open, and he couldn’t exactly close and lock a door easily as a cat.

Most people who knew him didn’t even know what animal he was. He never spoke about it unless strictly necessary. As a member of the HR team who processed leave requests, he was familiar with what the other employees were, having read their paperwork, but his own was considered one of the great mysteries around the office. Iwol wouldn’t have even known his co-workers had been curious about it to such a degree if one of the interns hadn’t outright asked him once. 

While he didn’t enjoy shifting, that wasn’t to say Iwol necessarily needed to keep it a secret, so he had told them easily enough when asked.

He was a house cat.

It had been impossible not to see the shock fly across the face of others whenever he revealed that fact. For some reason, people seemed to expect him to be something like an eagle or a panther. He had gotten a few reactions that were odd in a different way, but he was always quick to escape those conversations and make a note to contact the Ministry of Labour one day if it continued.

Iwol hadn’t always refrained from shifting, though.

When he was young and living with his older sister, he had been a cat more often than he had been a human. It was easier and safer that way, and so he had adapted to shifting almost immediately whenever his parents came home.

While Iwol himself may have grown taller than average in human form, as a cat, he was noticeably smaller than he should be. It had been helpful, as a child, to be able to crawl into small spaces that no one else could reach and to blend into darkened rooms in a tiny corner with his black fur. 

More than once, his sister had commented on how small he had been when she held him. He didn’t remember it himself, but she often remarked on how when it was cold and they weren’t allowed in the house, she would tell him to shift and then hold him close to her. His sister wasn’t the type that could do well in the cold weather, so she refrained from shifting herself, but she said sitting outside against the wall with him on her lap had made it feel even warmer than being inside was.

When it came to eating, too, shifting had been helpful. A small cat needed much less food than a young human, and he could eat the bugs that crawled around outside when he was especially hungry that way. According to his sister, most of the food he ate as a child were scraps from neighbors feeding him things when he wandered around outside with her in shifted form and bugs he found. The ramen they had eaten together was really the one thing he got to eat as a human.

After moving out from that house and going to university, Iwol hadn’t shifted without needing to even once. 

At first, it had been because he simply didn’t have the time to not be a human. Between his part-time jobs, some of which involved food-handling and required a full human form at all times, and his courses, he didn’t have much free time to be a cat. Even then, when he did have time, he preferred to go to band club and practice the bass than to shift. 

As time passed, he got more used to never shifting and simply remaining fully human. In the military, too, it had been easier to just remain human. Whenever anyone found out his other form was a house cat, they hadn’t had anything good to say about it. He had even been praised, once, for his control of his form.

For Iwol though, at some point, it had represented a sort of freedom on its own. He didn’t have to live as a cat anymore hiding away and eating scraps, now he could live as a human, too. 

Being a cat was so strongly associated with his childhood, he couldn’t not think about it even when he tried to half-shift. While his memory wasn’t the best and there was much he couldn’t remember from those days, the feelings of it always seemed to rush back whenever he shifted.

In that sense, it was easier to just stay fully human and to only shift when necessary. Others generally didn’t have an issue with it, either. The only one who had ever commented on it with concern was his sister, but she had only brought it up once then stopped partway through what she was saying.

Iwol hadn’t been used to his sister stopping in the middle of saying something like that, but thought she might have been thinking the same thing as him.

That wasn’t to say that he hated his cat form. He was grateful for how helpful it had been when he was younger, but as an adult who no longer needed it to survive, he would rather not use it if possible.

The last time he could remember shifting without being able to control it had been the day of his sister’s funeral.

In this new life, too, he had been the same.

The other members would shift now and again the dorm, sometimes halfway, sometimes fully, but he had never looked anything but human. If he hadn’t had to put it down when the company asked, for accessibility and accommodation reasons, he doubted anyone at UA would even know he was a cat.

Iwol had already known what animals the other members of spArk were  from his time fangirling for Manager Nam’s daughter in the previous timeline. Idols played into their animal forms often, with merchandise, accessories, and fandom jokes often revolving around it. Fans loved to make connections between members based on what animal they were, sometimes grouping them into little “families” depending on the types.

SpArk was unique in having quite the variety of different animals. In an idol culture where the same species or similar ones were often purposefully grouped together and played into that image, spArk had mammals, an avian, and a reptile all in one place. 

The “him” that had first joined UA must have explained himself, because spArk somehow knew he was a cat without him telling them. In the early days, Lee Cheonghyeon had made a comment about how he and Kang Kiyeon should get along, both being felines. Iwol didn’t even want to think about why the younger man had the idea that a tiny house cat and a lynx would be able to sit well together in one room.

In the first place, cats were more solitary creatures on the scale of things. It was more of a miracle they weren’t hissing at each other than anything else. 

In fact, compared to the small house cat Iwol, the other members were all animals that were more dangerous for him if he did shift. Choi Jeho being an anaconda made his natural dislike for him almost a foregone conclusion, while Jeong Seongbin being a Jindo dog did give him a fellow more domesticated animal, but one that was also considered his natural enemy.

Even Lee Cheonghyeon, the visual member whom he could easily have conversations with, was a harpy eagle that could snap him up in a moment.

Only Park Joowoo, a chinchilla, wasn’t an issue for his cat form. Rather, as a cat he was an animal the younger man should avoid. He had wondered on more than one occasion whether it was alright for any of them to even be living in the same dorm together. Even in the previous timeline, he had seen anti-fans comment more than once that the obvious reason spArk was failing was putting animals that didn’t mix well together in one place and that was the reason that there was so much tension within the group. 

Of course, in their modern society such things didn’t actually cause serious issues, but it was true that they all had instincts within them that had some level of influence on them. 

It was simply easier for everyone if he just never shifted, and so Iwol had stopped doing it even for the once a month recommended by medical professionals. He had never had an issue before in his other life, even the few times he had skipped when he hadn’t been able to get a day off, and as someone who had always been healthy, he thought it would be fine. He was in an even younger body now than he had been before, it should theoretically cause even less potential problems if he never shifted. 

With this thought in mind, he tactfully deflected all the attempts the other members made to breach the subject now and again. Most of them gave up rather quickly, especially as their activities ramped up and spArk became more and more popular. 

It all came to a head one day during a livestream, well into the first year of their debut.

By now, fans had come to know what animals spArk’s members were, and often used the knowledge when making fan-made merchandise and posts about them. Iwol had seen more than his share of discussions involving them that used nicknames combining their names and animals. It had even come up during their first fan meet, though it had been settled easily enough by just restating their other forms rather than requiring them to shift.

On more than one occasion he had been handed his fair share of cat ear headbands and plushies at fanmeetings. He always wore them, of course. He would never disappoint a Sparkler by refusing to do something like that, but he had never shifted for them.

The fans seemed to take the fact that they were a group of mixed animals that didn’t necessarily go well together as an important point, never requesting anyone shift or asking questions about their dynamics with their other forms. It was a lucky thing for Iwol, who wouldn’t have been able to turn down a fan, but didn’t know if he would be able to force himself to shift at their behest.

It happened during one of their full group livestreams, something they had done more and more often after the incident with PD Yoo. Lee Cheonghyeon had been commenting about how he would sometimes shift and go fly around outside to get ideas for his compositions, while Iwol monitored comments on the screen.

∟You’ve all talked about shifting before, but we’ve never seen Iwol talk about it TT TT Has he never done it?

That one comment seemed to spark something, as more messages poured in either asking about it or chastising the commenter for questioning it in the first place.

Iwol didn’t want to be the one to cause friction among their fans like that. If he had to choose between answering this question and letting the Sparklers fight about it, he would rather present a handwritten response on a silver platter for them while begging for everyone to get along.

Reading the question aloud, he said, “It’s not that I've never done it, I just don’t shift often, so it doesn’t come up,” the explanation simple and not technically lying since, while it was true he had never shifted while with spArk, he had many times before meeting them.

The other members were quick to jump in as well.

“It’s true, this hyung is always too busy to even sleep properly,” Lee Cheonghyeon told on him to the Sparklers, prompting a wave of comments cursing out UA and telling Iwol to rest.

Trying to mitigate the situation, Jeong Seongbin added, “It’s rare for any of us to shift, so it’s not that unusual. I think out of all of us, Cheonghyeon does it the most,” he said, implying that Lee Cheonghyeon wasn’t a reliable source for the topic.

The Spiritual Pillar of spArk was once again saving him. Iwol truly felt that Jeong Seongbin embodied his nickname in full. 

“With the animals we are, shifting in the room with the roommates we had wasn’t always a good idea,” their leader continued, reminding everyone that an anaconda, a harpy eagle, and a cat had been in one room together.

Park Joowoo commented, “Thinking about it, it’s amazing that that room never had any problems…” 

Kang Kiyeon beside him replied, “Our room wasn’t much better,” bringing to mind a room with a Jindo dog, a lynx, and a chinchilla all packed together.

From there, the conversation devolved into talking about anecdotes about their days with their former roommates. With the topic completely shifted, Iwol mentally let out a sigh of relief that he had managed to overcome that hurdle without any issues. It seemed as though the Sparklers had accepted his excuse. Paired with the reality of their group’s situation, they appeared to agree it made more sense for him not to shift than for him to. 

“How is it that with a room with two nocturnal members, one of the two who stayed up all night was the harpy eagle?” 

“Even with the current roommates, we have a Jindo dog and a house cat sharing one room…”

“Is it actually possible to make rooms without anything like that with our group?”

“Does it actually matter?”

With statements like that, how could anyone argue that shifting would be for the better? And so, the topic was safely put to rest and Iwol was able to live another day without having to expose his dislike for shifting to the public.

That night, though, he laid in bed staring at the ceiling thinking about it. 

Half-shifting in front of others was seen as a normal thing, but fully shifting usually was a sign of trust. It was baring a possible vulnerability to others, and was usually, though not always, only done with reliable friends or family members nearby. 

He knew this. It was an unspoken fact of their society, one of the many that wound around every interaction and relationship, and one that applied to spArk as well.

The others had all fully shifted at least once in the dorms. They didn’t do it outside unless in a state where they couldn’t control themselves or if it was planned, like Lee Cheonghyeon’s flights, but they did it often enough in the dorms that he didn’t find it strange to see a chinchilla by the garden or a Jindo dog sitting on the sofa. 

It had taken time, yes, but all five of the members of spArk had done it by now. Except for him. 

Hit with the realization and the implications of that fact, Iwol sat up in his bed. He knew the members were aware he had never shifted. It was impossible for them not to know, with them living together. More than once, they had each given a roundabout comment on it and how unhealthy it was, but Iwol had always managed to brush it off. The one time he couldn’t, when Kang Kiyeon had told him off, the topic had been dropped in lieu of discussing the medications and Iwol’s promise to be more open.

Iwol had promised to be better then.

He thought he had been doing better, too.

He was more open about certain things than before. Sometimes he asked for help if he felt like he needed to. He had even cut down his workload and started going to therapy. 

But being more open also included shifting in front of them, didn’t it? Everyone in the group had shown each other trust by doing so except for him. While Iwol was still planning to leave the group one day and didn’t necessarily want to create a strong bond he would be forced to break later, he also didn’t want to break his promise to Kang Kiyeon to do better. 

…Could he shift in front of them? Should he?

He hadn’t done it in so long, the idea of it was daunting. Even half-shifting seemed like an insurmountable mountain higher than any seen on Earth in their current era at this point. Did he really have the right to do such a thing when he would one day walk away from them all?

With his mind going back and forth between wanting to keep his promise to the group and not wanting to cause more problems down the line, Iwol couldn’t bring himself to even try closing his eyes.

“Hyung, go to sleep.”

Jeong Seongbin’s voice cut through his racing thoughts, causing Iwol to shift his gaze towards the younger man for a moment. He could hear the threat of another mark being added next to his name in the notebook.

Acquiescing, he quickly laid back down and did his best to turn off his mind for the night. He would undoubtedly still be thinking about it tomorrow, so he might as well go to sleep now and avoid the wrath of spArk’s spiritual pillar.

***

Morning brought with it only darkened eyebags and no further clarity. Iwol knew he would have to shift in front of them. At the least, the livestream itself had proven that Sparklers were starting to notice the issue. If things continued like this, people might begin posting about how it was obvious the group had tension within it and that Iwol didn’t trust the others the way he should. It would bring the whole group down, negating all of the work he had done so far to meet his KPIs. 

With this thought and his prior promise to Kang Kiyeon in mind, Iwol was thankful that it was a day he had been slotted to have no activities. Of course, he still had practice and his other usual tasks, but he didn’t have to go anywhere for any sort of filming or recording. The other members, too, were spending the day doing their own individual things.

While it was true they spent time off together often, there were also times like now where spArk would disperse and go about their own visits and activities without each other. Given that today was a day off only for both himself and Park Joowoo, he had seen the younger man off to the record store with their manager and then found himself alone in the house.

Now that he was alone, it was more likely he would be able to practice shifting than not. If you included the time he hadn’t shifted since before his regression, it had been well over a year since Iwol had even half-shifted. Near the end, he hadn’t been able to get a day off to shift for over three months, and had continued not to until now. 

He was thankful none of the doctors he had had to see since his time joining spArk had ever asked about his shifting rate, likely simply having expected he did it at least once a month. 

Moving into the bathroom, he stood and looked at himself in the mirror.

It wasn’t like he had forgotten how to shift. Just like you wouldn’t forget how to blink if you somehow weren’t able to for a year, it was impossible to forget how to shift. It was something everyone knew naturally from birth, so he knew he could theoretically do it at any time.

The problem was: Every time he started to try, he would suddenly feel an overwhelming feeling that he shouldn’t.

It was frustrating, not to be able to do something so simple. He wondered if he should have brought it up in therapy before now. Thinking back to the skills he had learned there, he took a deep breath and looked at himself in the mirror once more.

He had shifted many times in the other timeline as an adult without an issue, he could do it now,  too. 

Staring into his own reflected eyes, he thought of his sister. In the end, he was doing all of this, acting as an idol, listening to that bastard system, and meeting his KPIs, for her. If he could join an idol group he had once hated, he could shift for her. She had even wanted him to do so normally in the past. In a sense, he was listening to his older sister’s advice right now.

Keeping his sister at the forefront of his mind, he kept his gaze on himself as black ears appeared atop his head. From behind him, he could barely see a similarly dark-colored tail rapidly shifting back and forth with agitation. 

His eyes widened as he realized he had succeeded, and so easily with that. It had been easier than he had thought it would be, when he went into it with the focus being to do it for his sibling. 

Reaching up a hand, he gently felt around his ears. They were oddly sore, in a way that spoke of muscular pain more than anything else. His tail, too, felt somewhat uncomfortable. It had been a year since he had even seen either of them, it felt almost strange to see his form reflected in the mirror looking like this instead of simply being fully human. For a moment, he wasn’t sure if it was himself he was actually seeing there or not.

He shook his head at the thought, wondering where it had come from. Obviously it was him, he had seen himself like this many times. One year without half-shifting wouldn’t make him forget that fact.

Still, he had further to go. Half-shifting was still considered a normal thing to do even in public, it was fully shifting that was a sign of trust. He was already halfway there, if he could fully shift into a cat and wait for the others to return, his goal would be met and he could keep the group from being embroiled in scandals about internal turmoil because of him.

Repeating the previous process, Iwol turned his thoughts to his older sister once more. Although he didn’t remember it himself, she had told him he had always felt as warm as a heater when he curled up in her lap. She said she would pet him while they sat outside and he would fall asleep quickly, purring strong enough to shake in her hold.

Trying to recall the feeling with the memory of her words, Iwol soon found he couldn’t see himself in the mirror anymore at all.

***

It was evening by the time all of spArk had returned to the dorm. Their manager had been kind enough to let them order in food tonight, leading to arms laden with different flavors of chicken, drinks, and pickled radish busting through the front door.

Lee Cheonghyeon, Kang Kiyeon, and Jeong Seongbin had attended a filming for most of the day, and were more than happy to finally be back at the dorm to rest. They had picked up Park Joowoo on the way back, who had spent the day shopping around, and Choi Jeho, who had had his own individual filming for a fishing show that day.

“Did Iwol-hyung really spend all day home alone? He didn’t go to practice?” Jeong Seongbin asked Pyeon Daeyeon, who was setting the bags he was holding down on their kitchen counter. 

“Manager Chanyoung confirmed he didn’t go to UA today or request to go anywhere,” he replied, having been asked to check earlier in the day. The other members were always uneasy about leaving Kim Iwol alone for too long, understandably so given their group’s history. The fact that their eldest member had never gone to practice today had made them all concerned, it was unlike him to skip something like that on his own.

Lee Cheonghyeon looked around the room, calling out: “Hyung? We’re back!” at the obvious lack of Kim Iwol coming to greet them. Usually the older man would have already been waiting for them, doing something like monitoring in the living room or reading in his own room.

At the lack of response, the members were visibly becoming worried. Given that Kim Iwol had a heart condition and that all of the ways to alert them of anything happening were within the dorm, worst case scenarios were flowing through their minds.

Walking forward, Choi Jeho opened the door to the room Kim Iwol and Jeong Seongbin shared, calling out: “Kim Iwol!”

There was no response from the empty room.

Their special dinner all but forgotten, the members and their manager scattered around the house looking for any sign of the man. Kim Iwol was not a heavy sleeper most of the time, even if he had fallen asleep somewhere, he should have woken up by now.

The sense of tension in the house was almost palpable, broken only when Kang Kiyeon suddenly called out from the bathroom, “Hyung was in here!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and gathered towards where the voice came from. It was hard to fit so many tall men into one room, but they all managed to squeeze in to see what their youngest member had found.

On the ground, they found Kim Iwol’s smartwatch resting with its owner nowhere in sight. His phone, too, was sitting on the sink.

Jeong Seongbin immediately grabbed the watch, going through the records on it for any sign that something might have happened. Meanwhile, the other members wondered amongst themselves about the situation. It wasn’t like Kim Iwol to leave his phone behind, and they had made absolutely certain he had understood how important keeping his smartwatch on him at all times was for monitoring his heart condition. 

Finding nothing on the watch, Jeong Seongbin shook his head. For now, they gathered the two stray items up and continued searching the dorm. If they really couldn’t find him anywhere, they would have to contact other people they knew in the industry to see if Iwol had gone with them for some reason. In the event that that, too, proved fruitless, they might even have to file a missing person’s report.

Iwol was legally an adult, but he was also someone with both physical and mental health conditions that made it dangerous for him to be left alone for long periods of time.

Park Joowoo chose to move to the laundry room, one of the last places to search. There was no real reason to think Kim Iwol would be in there, he hadn’t even been the one on laundry duty this week, but it was better to check everywhere just to be safe.

He quickly glanced around the room, seeing no sign of any person in the small area. Letting out a sigh of disappointment, he was turning to leave when he noticed a basket of clean laundry sitting on the floor by the window. Lee Cheonghyeon was supposed to have folded and distributed their clothing earlier, but apparently he hadn't had time to do so before leaving this morning.

Approaching the basket, he took a peek to see whose clothes it was that were left out. If some of Kim Iwol’s things were missing, maybe it could be a clue to where he went.

As he bent down to get a better look, he paused when he noticed something in the laundry basket, his eyes widening at the sight.

“Oh.”

***  

Kim Iwol woke up an indeterminable amount of time later feeling warmer and more well-rested than he had in a long time. The last thing he could remember was the room suddenly getting bigger and then…nothing.

As someone who had never drunk himself to unconsciousness or done anything else of the sort, he immediately felt a sense of panic at the thought that he had somehow moved somewhere without his own knowledge. This was clearly not the bathroom he had last been in, at the least.

Wide awake now, he looked around to see where he was, surprised to find he was sitting in the laundry room for some reason. The world was also still much larger than it had been before, pointing to the fact that he had both succeeded in fully shifting, and that he was still fully shifted. 

He had no idea what time it was now, but the members were supposed to be coming home in the evening. What if they had arrived to find him gone and a random small cat lying on the floor in the bathroom? The thought of it made Iwol want to bury his head into the ground and not get up from it for at least five months.

The sensation of something hard and smooth against his fur brought him out of his thoughts. Huh? What would feel like that within a pile of laundry? 

Turning his head to look more closely at the things more directly around him, his eyes widened in surprise at the sight.

A harpy eagle was sitting right beside him, barely fitting in the laundry basket. The strange sensation he had felt was its beak brushing against him as he moved his head. Looking further, there was a chinchilla curled up at his side as well. Outside the basket, but leaning against it, a Jindo dog was resting on one side, and a lynx on the other. 

“You woke up,” a voice commented, drawing Iwol’s attention back towards the doorway of the laundry room.

Choi Jeho stood there, watching them all.

“They were all excited when they realized it was you,” he said, clearly meaning the other members.

Iwol didn’t know what to say. It was the first time he had shifted in any way in front of everyone since he was a child. Being seen like this by spArk, and especially by Choi Jeho who he had negative feelings towards, felt strange. He had been wanting them to see him like this eventually, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so immediately.

“They asked me to, too, but I thought it was better if I didn’t,” the other man continued after a moment. Iwol had to agree, it was better that way. He didn’t know how he would have reacted to a snake being curled around him when he woke up. It was difficult enough to avoid his instinctual urge to jump away even with the members that were already around him now.

Choi Jeho watched him for another moment, then nodded. Iwol didn’t know what that guy was nodding about exactly, but soon came to realize what it was when he walked over and presented his hand for Iwol to sniff.

Was this jerk seriously treating him like he was fully a cat? Iwol could recognize and understand him perfectly fine without needing to smell him first.

When he didn’t give any particular reaction other than his tail lashing beside him, Choi Jeho moved his hand forward and laid it on Iwol’s back. Iwol, not knowing how to react, sat frozen as the other man began to pet his fur. It was surprisingly gentle for a guy like Choi Jeho. Did he like cats? It was a strange thought, for a snake shifter to like an animal that he shouldn’t get along with.

Usually by now Iwol would have said something to get him to stop or tried to shake him off, but there was a warm sort of familiarity to the feeling. His sister had said that she would always pet him on the cold days that they were kicked out of the house, and while he may not actually remember those times, it was clear some part of him could recognize the sensation and connect it to those forgotten memories.

Unable to stop himself, Iwol settled back down in his spot, wrapped his tail around his front, and, mortifyingly, began to purr.

It was only later, after he found out that it was two days later than he had thought and he was back in human form, that Iwol would understand what had happened. Apparently, not shifting at all for over a year had suppressed his animal side so much to the point that when he finally did shift, it completely took over. Like a child who had little control over their instincts, he hadn’t been able to retain any of his human sense of self and acted as if he were fully a cat for almost two entire days.

That was also why Choi Jeho had approached him as if he were fully a cat, and why Iwol had just laid back down and let him pet him, even purring. While he had started to regain control of himself then, it hadn’t fully come back until later.

That explained why he had let that guy pet him and even purred.

He had gotten an earful from the doctor the company had made him go see, with a lecture on the importance of shifting once a month and an offering to connect him with a counselor who specialized in trauma related to shifting if he needed. Iwol had declined it, promising to talk about it with his current therapist instead, and gone home to be met with critical looks from the younger members stabbing into him once they learned the full extent of the situation. They had made him promise to shift at least once a month, even if he just wanted to do it alone, and to say something if he wasn’t able to next time.

Iwol had been feeling guilty enough about causing the group to miss out on two days of activities, he couldn’t help but to agree. 

Without even needing to ask, he already knew Jeong Seongbin had added at least three new marks by his name in his new notebook.