Da Haram took a deep breath, then cracked the window open halfway. He folded the 50,000-won bill Da In-ho had given him into a small square and set it on the windowsill. In the next instant, he transformed—his body swiftly shifting into his beast form. Hopping up onto the window frame, he grabbed the folded bill in his mouth.
“Jjik, jjaek.”
Please, let me make it back safely.
Looking up at the clear, cloudless sky, Haram whispered a prayer to a god he didn’t even believe in. Then he flung himself into the pine garden.
As he spread his patagium wide and sliced through the wind, the stifling weight in his chest began to ease. Despite it being his first flight in a while, Haram landed cleanly without a hitch and immediately scaled the tallest pine branch before leaping toward the outer wall.
Sprinting along the top of the high wall, Haram’s eyes locked onto a utility pole across the way. He began to pace nervously in place. There were no trees over there—he’d have to use the pole. He didn’t have time to hesitate, but his feet refused to move. His grandmother’s warning echoed in his head: It’s fine to climb trees, but never, ever climb a utility pole.
As he stood there deliberating, Haram caught sight of Da In-ho awkwardly loitering near the front of the mansion. Relieved, he spat out the bill from his mouth and leaned over the edge of the wall, waving both hands frantically.
“Jjik, jjiiik!”
The chirping—something you’d never hear in Seoul—snapped Da In-ho’s head up. His eyes widened in shock as he spotted a Sky Squirrel waving at him from atop the high wall.
“Da Haram? Wait—what are you doing up there?”
Haram flashed an awkward smile in response to the question. He picked up the bill again, clutched it in his mouth, and dove down toward the alley where Da In-ho’s car was parked.
Stunned, Da In-ho watched the gliding figure soar overhead and followed after him. When he caught up, Haram was sitting on the car’s bumper, his fur a sleek silver-gray.
“You’re… not planning on going all the way to the countryside like that, are you?”
“Jjaek, jjaek…?”
Is that… too much?
“…Let’s just head to the terminal for now.”
“Jjaek!”
If Da In-ho hadn’t waited outside the mansion instead of returning to the hospital, this would’ve been far more complicated. Thanks to him, things had gone surprisingly smoothly. In high spirits, Haram gave him a grateful bow.
“Is this… something we should report to the police?”
As he drove toward the terminal with Haram in the passenger seat, Da In-ho asked cautiously. He hadn’t wanted to get involved in a lover’s quarrel, but the image of Da Haram gliding over a wall in full beast form replayed in his head—it was hard to forget.
To flee like that… He was starting to suspect that Alpha might’ve done something truly terrible to him.
“Jjaek, jjaek.”
It’s not like that.
Haram shook his head firmly.
“…That’s a relief.”
“Jjik, jjaek.”
Tae-yi will be back at the house soon. He doesn’t know I’ve gone to the countryside. I shifted forms to buy myself some time so I could escape.
Haram wrapped his flat tail around himself and calmly finished explaining in his small, chirpy voice.
“You really… want to avoid him that badly?”
“Jjik…”
“Whatever it is, don’t you think you should at least talk it out? Even if you make it to the countryside, it won’t be hard for him to come find you.”
“Jjaek, jjaek.”
I don’t want to talk right now.
If he tried to say anything in this state, all that would come out were tears. Seeing Haram’s firm resolve, Da In-ho shut his mouth and gave a small nod.
Silence settled between them as they arrived at the terminal. Climbing clumsily onto Da In-ho’s hand, Haram trembled as he entered the bustling station. The sea of people overwhelmed him.
“You sure you can manage alone? You know where you’re going?”
Da In-ho alternated worried glances between the bus ticket and the shaking Haram.
“Jjik, jjaek.”
Don’t worry. I’m not a kid—I’ll find my way just fine.
Putting on a brave front, Haram reached out for the bus ticket.
“I’ll walk you to your seat.”
It felt like sending off a little brother to travel far on his own. Da In-ho couldn’t shake the unease in his chest. As he looked down at Da Haram with a complicated expression, he made a decision.
“Don’t rush. Don’t panic. Just think about staying safe. I’ll buy you some time.”
“Jjaek?”
Startled by the sudden words, Haram tilted his head and looked up at him. He was already helping so much—what else could he possibly do?
“I’ll do my best to stall him.”
***
“Check if he’s actually at home.”
Staring hard at the text message from Da Haram, Tae-yi gave the order to Chief Yoon, who had just arrived at the village entrance in a black sedan.
“He contacted you? Did he really go home alone?”
“He says he’s home but won’t pick up the phone. Go confirm it in person.”
Tae-yi climbed into the back seat as Chief Yoon dialed the subordinate who had dropped Haram off.
“Maybe he just went to lie down—he did say he was tired. I was actually worried Tae-jin’s people might’ve snatched him.”
Thank God Kang Tae-jin wasn’t that unhinged. The tension Tae-yi had felt since seeing his father’s repeated missed calls began to ease slightly.
Chief Yoon attempted a lighthearted comment to break the tension, but the relaxed confidence that Tae-yi usually exuded was nowhere to be found.
“There’s no exclamation mark.”
“Sorry… what?”
“The text. It doesn’t have any energy.”
“…Huh?”
The usual bubbly tone Haram always had in his messages—was completely gone. It was stiff, flat, like someone else had written it. It sounded absurd, even to himself, but the unsettling feeling wouldn’t go away. The bad hunch gnawed at him, refusing to fade.
“…Director? Are you sure you’re not just overheated?”
The one who had been working like a mule under the blazing sun was the debt collector, yet it seemed like Tae-yi was the one suffering from heatstroke. What kind of man analyzed emotional punctuation in a text message? Was he seriously saying the words didn’t have life in them?
Chief Yoon couldn’t hide his baffled expression, but even then, Tae-yi kept frowning at his phone.
“See if we can get access to the hospital’s CCTV footage.”
“Yes, sir… Um, actually—never mind.”
It seemed excessive. But what could he do? He couldn’t say no to Kang Tae-yi. With a resigned sigh, Chief Yoon pulled out his phone.
***
“Jjaek…”
I feel carsick…
The ride on the express bus was awful. Every bump jostled his small body, making it even harder to stay steady. Swallowing repeatedly to keep down the nausea, Haram glanced out the window.
The view was mostly sky thanks to his height, but the lack of tall buildings hinted that they were getting closer to the countryside. Other than the motion sickness, the trip had gone surprisingly well. The bus was nearly empty aside from a few elderly passengers, probably because of the rural destination, and that helped calm his nerves.
Before long, the bus reached the terminal. As people disembarked one by one, Haram waited until the crowd thinned, then grabbed the 50,000-won note and hopped off his seat.
“Jjaek.”
He gave a small bow to the driver before carefully descending the stairs. The familiar rural scenery couldn’t have been more different from the chaos of the Seoul terminal. Relieved to have arrived safely, Haram’s lips twitched upward in a faint smile as he hurried out of the terminal.
Right outside was a city bus stop. Haram craned his neck to read the schedule for the bus headed toward his village and let out a long, regretful sigh.
If he’d left just a bit earlier, he would’ve made the last bus. Disappointed, he sighed again and checked when the next one would come.
“Jjaek, jjaek.”
Way too late.
He’d have to wait at least another three hours. He knew there weren’t many buses from the city to his village, but this was worse than expected. Still, he couldn’t blow all of Da In-ho’s money on a taxi. That was borrowed money—and with all the debt he owed Tae-yi, he’d be struggling for a while just trying to pay it all back. A taxi was a luxury he couldn’t afford.
Flying might be the better option.
Without hesitation, Haram left the bus stop and started walking down the sidewalk. If he kept going, he’d eventually leave the city, and then the mountains would start. Once he reached those, the rest would be easy.
Just knowing he had made it out of Seoul and back to his hometown lifted a weight off his chest. With a lighter step, Haram began to run.
***
“He’s asleep in his room, sir. I told you—he was just tired and needed rest. Do you still want me to call off the hospital CCTV check?”
Chief Yoon relayed the report in an upbeat tone and glanced at Tae-yi through the rearview mirror. But Tae-yi didn’t even flinch. He just stared out the window.
“…Director?”
“Check the hospital CCTV. I want to know where he went after getting out of the parking lot. Who he might’ve met.”
Maybe Haram had really been tired and gone home alone, just as Min-ho said. But the nagging feeling in Tae-yi’s chest wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t something he could explain—it was pure instinct.
And his instincts were never wrong.
“He’s sound asleep in his Sky Squirrel form. You don’t need to worry so much.”
Trying to lighten the mood, Chief Yoon added another line—though even he could feel it falling flat.
