Da Haram trudged into the kitchen with a glum expression. Few things felt worse than upsetting someone else. Because he knew all too well what it felt like to be hurt, it weighed on him even more.
The idea of hurting Tae-yi just because Tae-yi had hurt him didn’t make any sense—and he didn’t want that anyway.
Standing there, Haram stared silently at the food: neatly sliced rolled omelets, bulgogi that only needed reheating, and a quick radish soup he’d thrown together for the lack of anything brothy. He let out a long sigh. He was hungry, sure, but he didn’t want to eat alone.
Would we be able to eat dinner together? What am I supposed to do with all this food…?
After a moment of hesitation, Haram worked up the nerve to carefully transfer the untouched dishes into smaller containers. Then he slowly started tidying the mess he’d made in the kitchen while cooking in a frenzy.
***
Something had definitely happened overnight. The air inside the car was cold and tense—very different from yesterday—and Chief Yoon stifled a sigh as the chill settled in. Did they have a huge fight? Either that, or his boss had just gotten dumped in spectacular fashion.
Glancing at Tae-yi, who was silently reviewing documents, Chief Yoon carefully broke the silence.
“Uh… my father said he really wants to meet with Da Haram. What should I tell him?”
Tae-yi paused for a moment, rifling through the documents before replying.
“Bring him to the house. Da Haram’s not going anywhere.”
Now that he’d made his stance clear, he had to be even more vigilant with Kang Tae-jin. That bastard could be plotting who knows what. But more than that, just the thought of Da Haram being anywhere but his home was enough to leave his mind in a blur, unable to read a single word.
Honestly, he felt like some anxious mutt with separation anxiety from its owner.
The car entered the underground parking garage of the company, dimming the view outside. Tae-yi set the documents aside, mentally running through today’s schedule.
As soon as the car was parked in their usual spot, Chief Yoon followed close behind as Tae-yi got out.
“What should we do about Da Haram’s meals?”
Figuring out what to feed a Sky Squirrel Beastfolk was always a dilemma. He now fully understood how frustrating it must’ve been for his mother whenever he’d said, “Anything’s fine,” as a kid.
“Don’t bother with packed lunches. Just stock the fridge with ingredients. Let him cook for himself.”
As soon as Tae-yi finished, Chief Yoon pulled out his phone and sent a text to the guards stationed at the estate.
“……”
As they walked toward the elevator, Tae-yi’s eyes narrowed—he could sense a presence behind them, something unpleasant. He gave Chief Yoon a look, and judging by Yoon’s stiff expression, he’d noticed it too.
The footsteps behind them began drawing closer, almost sticking to their backs. As Tae-yi listened carefully, Chief Yoon was the first to turn around.
“This elevator is for executives only. Staff elevators are on the other side.”
A man in a black cap pulled low over his face stopped at Chief Yoon’s words. He looked like he was trying to broadcast that he was up to something. Tae-yi scoffed under his breath. If you’re gonna be dumb, at least don’t be this obvious.
But when Tae-yi brushed past without a second glance, the would-be attacker panicked and pulled a hidden weapon from his pocket, lunging at Chief Yoon.
Chaos erupted in an instant. With a grimace, Tae-yi raked his fingers through his hair, irritated. While Yoon blocked the knife with his tablet, Tae-yi grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him out of the way.
“Gah!”
Yoon stumbled back in shock, frozen as Tae-yi swiftly subdued the attacker. The man squirmed and thrashed under Tae-yi’s grip, clawing for breath as Tae-yi’s hand closed around his throat. With each frantic kick, Tae-yi pounded a fist into his face, venting all his pent-up stress.
Thwack! Thud!
The dull thuds rang out briefly before Tae-yi, now expressionless, flung the unconscious attacker aside like trash and stepped into the elevator just as it arrived.
“You coming?”
“Ah… Y-Yes.”
Still dazed, Chief Yoon clutched his tablet to his chest and scrambled inside, dragging the assailant with him. Tae-yi pressed 17, the floor where his room was, and then added 20 for the vice-chairman’s office. It was clear he had no intention of accepting this little gift someone had sent.
As he exited and left the limp attacker behind, Tae-yi brushed his cheek where a faint sting lingered.
“Are you alright?”
It looked like a small scratch. At Chief Yoon’s concerned voice, Tae-yi gave a vague nod and hurried off to catch up on work.
Chief Yoon watched his back, shaking his head slowly. How many times has something like this happened for him to react so casually? Sure, he didn’t exactly get along with his own older brother, but they’d never gone so far as to literally try to kill each other.
Kang Tae-jin was out of his damn mind. No—he was acting like someone who had nothing left to lose. And that made him even more dangerous. To pull a stunt like this inside his own company… The man was seriously unhinged.
Staring at the elevator stopped on the 20th floor, Chief Yoon silently renewed his loyalty to Tae-yi.
***
“Put out another spoon.”
No, that’s too blunt. Sitting on the couch muttering to himself, Haram clutched his head in frustration and let out a heavy sigh.
How do I get Tae-yi to eat naturally?
No matter how he ran the scenario in his head, nothing felt right. The sun had long since set. There hadn’t been a single message from Tae-yi all day, but not one moment had passed without him on Haram’s mind.
Getting up, Haram walked to the kitchen and stared at the side dishes covering the table. The new dishes he’d just made sat untouched, looking pitiful and lonely.
Grrrrr…
His stomach growled loud enough to startle him. He’d spent all day cooking but hadn’t eaten a single bite himself—no wonder it was making noise. Swallowing the saliva that had pooled in his mouth, he scooped some rice and sat down at the table. The moment he picked up his spoon, he heard the front door open.
He’s back.
Jolted into standing, Haram saw a glimpse of Tae-yi’s dark black hair and immediately shut his eyes tight, yelling out in panic.
“Hey! D-Dinner’s ready!”
His desperate voice echoed through the spacious house. Flushing with embarrassment, Haram tried to ignore the heat rising to his ears, but when no answer came, he cautiously opened one eye.
There stood Tae-yi, smiling softly.
Their eyes met, and Haram quickly looked down, awkwardly moving his spoon. As he shoved a heaping bite of rice into his mouth and chewed, he heard the chair across from him being pulled out.
He kept his head lowered but couldn’t stop glancing up at Tae-yi. His eyes practically bugged out trying to steal a glance. When Tae-yi dipped his spoon into the soup, Haram couldn’t help but speak up quietly.
“…Want me to heat the soup?”
It had gone cold sitting out. And unless it was naengmyeon, soup should be hot—that’s just how it was. So he mustered his courage to offer.
“I’m fine. Thanks, though.”
Tae-yi smiled, brushing it off as if it really didn’t matter. If he said it was fine, Haram didn’t want to press.
They continued their quiet, slightly awkward meal. Haram nearly got indigestion just from the tension, but when Tae-yi reached for the side dishes he’d worked hard on, the corners of Haram’s lips twitched upward.
“……”
Tae-yi, stifling a laugh at Haram openly watching him, continued eating naturally. Whether it was at the countryside house or here, Haram’s cooking had always been familiar and comforting. He wasn’t burdened by it—in fact, he was just grateful to be able to eat Haram’s food again.
As the meal wrapped up, Haram glanced at Tae-yi’s bowl. Seeing it completely emptied made him smile with quiet pride. But then, he spotted the scratch on Tae-yi’s cheek—and his smile vanished.
“Uh… What happened to your face?”
There hadn’t been a mark there in the morning. Blinking his big eyes, Haram asked with concern.
“I tripped.”
As soon as Haram’s worried voice came out, Tae-yi offered the laziest excuse imaginable with a faint smile. Haram bit his lower lip in frustration and muttered under his breath.
“…Didn’t you say you wouldn’t lie to me?”
It was obvious that wasn’t a tripping injury. Besides, he was a Sky Squirrel Beastfolk—his eyesight was several times sharper than a human’s. That mark on Tae-yi’s face was from something sharp.
When Haram looked at him, visibly disappointed, Tae-yi sighed and added,
“It was a knife.”
“A knife?! How?! Why?!”
Haram’s eyes went wide with shock as he bombarded him with questions. What kind of office worker comes home from work stabbed?
“Can’t I at least tell a harmless lie?”
Tae-yi’s voice was almost pleading. But Haram shook his head firmly. That made Tae-yi sigh again, this time more exasperated.
“I told you—it’s dangerous. That’s all.”
That’s all? If it was dangerous, then shouldn’t he not be coming home with stab wounds? Even a drama wouldn’t go this far.
Haram stared at him, clearly wanting more answers, but when he saw how troubled Tae-yi looked, he swallowed the rest of his questions.
His ears drooped low, his whole posture wilting. Watching him, Tae-yi leaned forward so their eyes were level and said softly,
“You won’t get hurt. I promise.”
Up close, the wound was even more visible. Haram ignored Tae-yi’s words and just stared at the scratch, biting the inside of his cheek.
He felt like crying.
The world Tae-yi lived in was nothing like the one Haram knew—it was filled with things he couldn’t understand.
