“Tell them to leave some food at the front gate. Don’t let anyone go inside the house. He’ll get scared.”
The instruction came out of nowhere—not quite an answer, not quite a command—prompting Chief Yoon to sigh. Even at such a critical time, his boss’s head was filled with nothing but thoughts of Da Haram.
“I’ll have them drop off food. But… shouldn’t we bring Da Haram here?”
Da Haram was Kang Tae-yi’s only real weakness. Leaving him alone in some remote countryside wasn’t an option. Sure, guards were posted nearby, but still—he would be safer at Tae-yi’s side.
“We will bring him.”
Tae-yi’s answer was brief. His gaze returned to the window. He hadn’t slept a wink just from spending a single night apart. It was the kind of night where he realized, with a quiet horror, that he had separation anxiety like some loyal dog who only ever looked at its master. But he couldn’t just drag Haram back by force. He didn’t want to be hated any more than he already was.
How do I persuade him to come back?
The thought of Haram not even giving him the time of day made him feel helpless already. As the car headed toward the office, Tae-yi’s heavy sighs filled the silence.
***
After the Land-rich Grandmother had left, Haram slowly stood up, cradling the bottles of perilla oil in his arms like they were treasures. He’d been sitting too long—his legs and backside had gone numb. After carefully storing the oil in the fridge, he headed into the main room, changed into some casual clothes, grabbed his check card, and stepped toward the front door.
He even made a point to wear socks and, for the first time in a while, laced up sneakers instead of slippers. His heart was pounding at the thought of meeting Tae-yi. Not with excitement—more like nerves—but it was a better feeling than crying alone in a dark room.
I’ll get an apology. I’ll hear what he has to say.
The rest, he would decide after that.
With a determined stride, Haram left the house, crossing the yard quickly toward the gate.
The moment he opened the gate, he locked eyes with one of the big men stationed outside. He gasped and took an instinctive step back. Behind the man were two more—large, imposing men, all strangers. Meeting the gaze of three unknown men, Haram’s eyes flickered with fear.
“Heading out, sir? We’ll escort you.”
Shaking his head immediately, Haram answered in a trembling voice,
“J-Just going to the field. You don’t have to follow me.”
His voice was firm enough that the men exchanged glances and nodded. Relieved, Haram turned and began jogging down the hill, checking behind him every so often to make sure no one was tailing him.
Just the thought of those suited men trailing after him through the countryside was suffocating.
As he trudged toward the village bus stop, he paused when the peanut field came into view.
“…I’ll come back later and clean it up.”
He just couldn’t walk past it. Stepping into the field, he began pulling up the crookedly planted peanuts one by one.
It was long past harvest time. The stubborn stalks clung to the soil, looking pitiful. He couldn’t leave them like that. Even if it would be evening by the time he returned from Seoul, he wanted to finish the job today. It felt like the only way he’d find peace.
After gathering the peanuts into a single pile, he stepped out of the field, brushing the dirt from his hands with lingering regret.
***
Back in his office for the first time in a while, Tae-yi tried to focus on work. But the memory of the earlier chaotic meeting still lingered in the air. He set the document in his hands down and closed his eyes.
He already felt suffocated.
This was why he had never wanted the successor position in the first place. Trying to force himself to do something he had no desire for—it was impossible to concentrate.
Pulling out of the resort project would severely damage the company. If he opposed it too openly, people would dismiss him as a rebellious younger brother acting out of spite. He needed both justification and an alternative. That’s why he’d set his sights on international bids, ones he’d been watching closely for some time now. It would take effort, but he had no choice but to go all in and win.
Thankfully, many executives were already on his side, just as he had predicted. Of course, Chairman Kang Tae-jin had thrown a fit, declaring it absolutely unacceptable—but that, too, was expected.
There was so much work left to do. And after seeing Da Haram today, who knew when he’d get another chance? If he could coax Haram into coming to Seoul and staying by his side, maybe he’d finally be able to breathe again.
Tae-yi stared down at the papers piled on his desk, then suddenly yanked off his tie in frustration. It felt like sitting in a sauna with a gas mask on.
He was leaning back in his chair, eyes closed, when the door burst open without so much as a knock.
“Director!”
Chief Yoon came rushing in, his face pale as a sheet.
“Da Haram is missing.”
“…Haaah.”
This wasn’t the news he’d been waiting for. He missed Haram—craved him, even—but not like this. Tae-yi let out a long, frustrated breath and looked up at Chief Yoon.
“You said he hadn’t left the house. So what happened?”
“Apparently, he said he was heading to the field around 2. He told the guards not to follow him, so they stayed back and just watched from the hill. And he did go to the peanut field and start harvesting—so they assumed it was fine. But now they’re checking all the nearby houses. It looks like he’s left the village.”
Before Chief Yoon had even finished speaking, Tae-yi was already standing. He grabbed his jacket—but froze mid-step.
Where could he have gone? Where do I even start looking?
No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of a single place Haram might’ve gone. It was like becoming an idiot all over again. For the first time, Tae-yi was consumed by a sense of helplessness.
***
“Uuugh…”
As the bus pulled into the terminal, Haram let out a small, distressed groan. There were dozens of buses lined up—too many to count. He had made it to Seoul somehow, but the chaos outside made him hesitate. He wasn’t sure he could actually get off.
People began disembarking one by one. Gulping nervously, Haram finally pushed himself up. The moment he stepped off the bus, he could feel people’s eyes on him. He did his best to ignore it and moved toward the exit.
Is that the line…?
Looking for the taxi stand, Haram spotted a long queue of people and approached slowly. He held his tail tightly against his body, hovering awkwardly near the front of the line, trying to make himself as small as possible. The line was long, but taxis were coming quickly, so people were boarding just as fast. Rather than boring, the whole thing was dizzying.
Before he knew it, it was his turn. Nervously, he reached for the taxi door with a sweaty hand.
“Ah, hello…”
“Could you tuck your tail in, please?”
Just as Haram was about to get in, the driver’s urgent request made him flinch. He froze, unable to comply, then quickly stepped back and closed the door.
“You go ahead…”
He let the person behind him take the ride instead. When the next taxi pulled up, Haram opened the door with his heart pounding all over again.
“Sorry, I’ve got a bad allergy to fur!”
“A-ah…”
Flustered by the driver’s alarmed tone, Haram slammed the door shut. He wasn’t a dog—he was a Sky Squirrel. But how could he even say that?
After being rejected twice in a row, Haram’s spirit sank. His tail drooped limply as he walked away from the taxi stand.
Everyone around him was busy—he was the only one standing there, dazed.
I should’ve just asked the big guys to take me.
The thought of riding all the way to Seoul in a car with those intimidating men had made his chest tighten. But at least he would’ve gotten here faster. No use regretting it now—it was too late.
“Tae-yi…”
Habits were terrifying. He’d remembered his wallet but had forgotten his phone, since he rarely used it. Wiping his clammy palms against his white t-shirt, Haram began scanning the area, looking for someone who might lend him a phone.
“Um… excuse me. Could I make a quick call? I don’t have a phone…”
Fortunately, the same soft, downcast look that drooped his tail also tugged at people’s hearts. No one could say no to a Sky Squirrel Beastfolk who looked like he might cry if you so much as breathed wrong. Someone immediately handed over their phone. Bowing repeatedly in thanks, Haram punched in Tae-yi’s number from memory.
“H-hello? It’s me. Haram…”
—Da Haram? Where are you? I’ll come get you.
The moment he heard Tae-yi’s voice, all the tension drained from him. Haram’s voice shook with emotion.
“I came to Seoul… I was trying to catch a taxi, but… hic, the taxi…”
—Seoul? Where exactly?
“The terminal. I’m in front of the terminal.”
Tae-yi’s calm voice helped steady him. Haram wiped the tears forming at the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
—Don’t cry. I’m coming now.
“Mmh…”
Something about those words made him tear up all over again. Haram bit his lip hard and fought to hold back the tears.
“Thank you so much.”
“…Of course.”
After thanking the kind stranger one more time, Haram stood still, listening to the rapid pounding of his own heart. He hoped Tae-yi would arrive soon—but at the same time, his nerves over the long-delayed conversation ahead wouldn’t let his heart settle down.
He sniffled a few more times, casting a glance up at the crimson sunset sky, just trying to pass the time—when suddenly, he saw Tae-yi running toward him.
“T-Tae-yi.”
Their eyes met—and before he could say anything more, Haram was pulled into a tight embrace. He gasped as Tae-yi crushed him to his chest. Haram tried to push back, pressing against his chest, but Tae-yi wouldn’t budge.
“What are you doing here alone? Do you know how dangerous this is?”
Tae-yi began checking him over, cupping his cheeks, brushing his fingers along his jaw. A flurry of questions followed.
“…I came because I want to talk to you.”
