“I found Da Haram.”
Tae-yi, having hurried down the mountain, called Chief Yoon.
– He was up in the mountains? That’s a relief!
Tae-yi replied calmly, his voice level despite the situation.
“He won’t come down from the tree. If we try to force him, he’ll just glide away. We have to catch him before sunset—and we’ll need tools. Bring something, anything.”
– Understood. I’ll get it ready right away.
Thankfully, Chief Yoon seemed to catch on immediately.
Back at the hanok, Tae-yi approached Da In-ho, who was sitting on the porch, dazed.
“I need your help catching Da Haram.”
“You found him? That’s great! But… how exactly am I supposed to help…?”
Sure, it was good that Haram had been found, but In-ho was the one who had helped him escape in the first place. And now he was being asked to help bring him back? He wasn’t too thrilled about the idea.
Tae-yi let out a quiet sigh as he loosened his tie, noting the hesitation on In-ho’s face.
“I want to talk to Haram. I want to apologize for all the lies, and if he’s misunderstood anything, I want to clear it up. Please help me.”
Faced with Tae-yi’s sincerity, In-ho hesitated, biting his lip nervously. According to Haram, Tae-yi was a master manipulator. Could he be trusted? Surely he wouldn’t actually hurt Haram…
Even if he was a liar, he didn’t seem like someone who’d harm him. He was the one who’d made Haram cry—but also the one who’d always comforted him when he did.
“…What exactly do you need me to do?”
Hearing that reluctant agreement, Tae-yi allowed a small smile to tug at his lips.
“First, transform.”
“I’m not doing anything weird. And I don’t want to hurt Da Haram, either.”
“What do you take me for? Like I’d ever hurt him.”
Tae-yi responded indignantly and gestured with his chin.
Rising slowly, In-ho pulled off the blanket draped around him and transformed into his animal form in an instant.
“Director! I’ve got it! Let’s go!”
Chief Yoon burst through the front gate, his voice full of pride. He held out both arms, laden with equipment.
“Tcheep! Tcheeep!”
You said you wouldn’t hurt him!
In-ho squealed, stunned, and instinctively backed away. Tae-yi also frowned when he saw all the gear Chief Yoon had brought.
“What the hell is all this?”
“Well, this is a tranquilizer gun borrowed from the village chief, and this here is a trash picker from the community center…”
Chief Yoon presented each item proudly, like a puppy waiting for praise.
“What the hell is in your head? If you shoot Haram with that, he’ll die instantly.”
“…It was for intimidation purposes.”
Chief Yoon answered sheepishly, eyes flicking up to read the room. Tae-yi ran a hand through his hair, not even bothering to respond. Meanwhile, In-ho had retreated to the far edge of the porch, his big round eyes full of mistrust.
“What’s that?”
Tae-yi reached toward a blindingly neon-colored butterfly net. Chief Yoon handed it over eagerly.
“Oh, that? The land-rich grandmother lent it to me. She bought it for her grandkids for the holidays. She said not to break it… or else…”
Chief Yoon trailed off and simply shook his head ominously instead of finishing the sentence.
Tae-yi took a swing through the air with the net. It was long, easy to grip, and felt pretty good in his hand. He smiled, satisfied, then locked eyes with In-ho, who was still keeping his distance.
“Tcheep, tcheep…”
No matter what you say, I’m not doing it.
In-ho shuddered at the eye contact and muttered to himself.
***
“Tcheeek! Tcheep!”
This is the most humiliating moment of my entire life!
Squirming out of the mesh of the butterfly net, In-ho pointed at Tae-yi, screeching in outrage. It was something straight out of a nightmare. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep for days.
He’d lost count of how many times he’d flown around the hanok trying to dodge that damn net. Tae-yi had hunted him down like prey.
Now he understood why Da Haram had run away—because of this evil Alpha who seemed to find all this hilariously entertaining.
After dozens of simulations using In-ho to test the net’s effectiveness, Tae-yi finally deemed it reliable. Ignoring In-ho’s angry squeaking, he left through the gate. Chief Yoon followed, but Tae-yi stopped him.
“Return the gun and stay here.”
Chief Yoon nodded, realizing he’d be of no help out there.
“…Will he even let himself be caught?”
Still, he watched Tae-yi head off into the mountain with a butterfly net in hand, worry clouding his expression. Honestly, the tranquilizer gun had suited him better. Chief Yoon sighed, staring wistfully at the gun in his hand.
***
“Da Haram.”
Tae-yi wandered calmly through the forest, calling out as he looked between the trees.
Haram, watching from afar, sucked in a sharp breath when he spotted the neon butterfly net in Tae-yi’s hand.
“Tcheep, tcheeek…”
He’s out of his damn mind…
The rose-colored glasses had finally shattered. Looking back, Tae-yi had never been normal—he’d just been blinded by affection until now.
Haram clung flat against a tree branch, then cautiously crept toward the edge and leapt.
He slowly made his way back toward his earlier hiding spot but soon noticed Tae-yi scanning the area in his direction. He hadn’t been spotted yet, but Tae-yi was definitely circling nearby.
Haram’s throat felt dry. He swallowed hard and stopped moving, deciding to wait until Tae-yi wandered off.
He regretted not heading back to his nest sooner instead of lingering and pacing. His body, exhausted from the day’s ordeal, was screaming for rest.
When Tae-yi finally walked off toward another part of the mountain, Haram sluggishly resumed his crawl toward the tree hollow.
A feverish heat was spreading through his body. It had to be from seeing Tae-yi again—it had riled him up more than he realized.
***
Tae-yi let out a low sigh, the sound melting into the crimson hues of the sunset. He hurled the butterfly net aside in frustration and tilted his head upward. Through the thick leaves, the red-stained sky peeked through.
He was going out of his mind with the need to apologize. He’d never felt this way before—burning with regret, gnawed by guilt. He knew this desperate attempt to hold on to Haram was selfish. It was all just to ease his own conscience.
But he didn’t want to hurt him anymore. If there was a misunderstanding, he wanted to clear it up. He wanted to beg for forgiveness and be there for him.
“…Da Haram.”
A toasty scent tickled his nose. At first, he thought he was imagining it. But the smell returned—stronger this time. Tae-yi’s head shot up.
Pheromones. They were Da Haram’s.
Apparently, the universe was on his side today. Smirking, Tae-yi began following the scent, his pace slow and steady. When the trail grew stronger, he started circling the area, searching for his Omega.
“Da Haram.”
Not far away, Haram trembled where he hid. The aching fatigue had overtaken his entire body—he couldn’t run anymore. His limbs were hot, his joints throbbed.
“I’ll help you.”
Haram curled tighter inside the tree hollow at the sound of Tae-yi’s cool voice. He prayed desperately that the hooting owl in the woods would drown out Tae-yi’s words.
I’m not falling for it. I won’t fall for it again. He’s lying.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Haram tried to pull his hazy mind together. Ever since facing Tae-yi, his body had been acting strangely. Sensations he couldn’t explain rippled through him, and he was terrified his body might humanize without warning.
He clutched his misty silver tail to his chest, panting heavily.
“Come out. You’re in heat.”
At those words, Haram gasped. No—he shook his head violently in denial.
Tae-yi stood just outside the hollow, shamelessly radiating pheromones that teased and tugged at the innocent Omega hiding inside—an Omega who didn’t even realize his instincts were betraying him.
There was so much he still didn’t know.
He needed to be taken away, now.
With a weary sigh, Tae-yi crouched before the tree hollow and spoke in a calm voice.
“You’re in heat. You’re dripping pheromones everywhere.”
“Tcheeep! Tcheep, tcheep!”
No, no, no!
Still in his Sky Squirrel form and unable to speak, Haram shook his head furiously and let out a weak, frantic cry. He clutched his tail tighter at the sound of Tae-yi’s voice so close.
He’d tried so hard to get away from him, so why—why did just seeing Tae-yi make him want to throw himself into his arms?
And why… why did everything inside feel so itchy and hot?
“…Haa.”
Tae-yi was at his limit. Haram was so thoroughly hidden, not even a strand of fur showed—but Tae-yi was this close to reaching in and dragging him out.
Instead, he hooked a finger on the edge of the tree hollow and slowly released a wave of pheromones—just enough to disorient his tiny Omega. Then, he held out his palm inside the hollow.
So his Sky Squirrel could climb on.
It didn’t take long.
The silver-furred bundle he’d been so desperate to find crawled into his hand, body flushed and panting. Haram, utterly overwhelmed, began rubbing his entire body against Tae-yi’s palm.
That pathetic little movement made Tae-yi’s lips curl up into a broad smile.
“You’ll need to change back for me to help you.”
And just like that, the fevered Haram transformed.
“Nnngh…”
His bare, snow-white body curled into Tae-yi’s arms. Smiling softly, Tae-yi slipped off his jacket and wrapped it around Haram’s burning skin. Then he lifted him up, supporting his hips, and began making his way down the mountain.
