“…Squeak.”
To think he’d join hands with someone as vile as Kang Tae-jin. What a disgrace of a Sky Squirrel Beastfolk. His head throbbed from the blow, and his vision spun in dizzy circles. Collapsing onto the cold floor of the cage, Haram bit back the tears welling in his eyes and pulled his tail close, hugging it tight against his chest.
He didn’t know how much time had passed. Where even was he? Did Tae-yi know he’d been kidnapped? Had he returned from his business trip yet?
Even trapped inside this cramped cage, the reality of his abduction wouldn’t sink in. He wished it were just a horrible nightmare. Any moment now, Tae-yi would open the door, step in, and take him home.
As thoughts of Tae-yi began to fill his head, the tears he’d been holding back slipped free and streamed down his cheeks. Wiping his damp face with his tiny forepaws, Haram slowly scanned the dusty, dimly lit warehouse.
He had no intention of sitting quietly and giving Kang Tae-jin the satisfaction. The very fact that he’d been captured was sure to torment Tae-yi—and Haram couldn’t just sit around, waiting to be rescued, while the person he loved suffered.
He wiped away every last tear clinging to his lashes and blinked his large round eyes, pacing the cage. It looked brand-new—no rust, no bent bars—clearly bought just to imprison him.
With a soft sigh, Haram tilted his head back, peering toward the top of the cage. Unlike the tightly spaced bars below, the gaps grew wider toward the ceiling.
He lowered his gaze to his own thin belly. After nearly a week of rutting with Tae-yi, followed by another week of fever and fatigue, he’d barely eaten a thing—his ribs pressed sharp against his skin.
Haram tugged at his loose hide with a thumb-sized paw and then lifted his head, a sly grin curving his mouth.
***
Professor Yoon had been in a car accident, and Da Haram had vanished. And Chairman Kang Tae-jin, who’d been absent from work under the pretext of health issues, had disappeared without a trace.
Each piece of bad news had hit in rapid succession with a single phone call. Kang Tae-yi didn’t scold Yoon Min-ho, who’d apologized profusely for failing to protect Haram. Tae-yi knew it wasn’t his fault. No—this was on him. He should’ve known something like this could happen and never gone on that trip. Or maybe it had been a mistake to spend the rut together at all, even with Haram’s consent.
Handing the rest of the work to his team, Tae-yi grabbed his passport and headed straight for the airport. The whole drive there, he kept calling Haram. He knew no one would pick up—but even so, it was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.
—I had vegetable porridge. I’ll eat rice for dinner. I’m all better now, my digestion’s fine!
He stared at the text from Haram, feeling a knot twist in his chest. The business dinner had run late that night; he hadn’t even had the chance to reply. Should he have forced Haram to come along, even though he’d been sick? Of course he missed him—but more than that, he couldn’t stop worrying. Was Haram trembling alone in some strange place? Was he starving? Tied up in some freezing basement? Just imagining it made rage boil in his veins.
He knew, logically, that Haram wouldn’t be harmed. No matter how reckless Kang Tae-jin was, he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on the hostage he’d taken. And yet, picturing those huge eyes filling with tears made it hard to breathe.
Once this project wrapped up, he’d planned to finally settle things with Kang Tae-jin—but some things never changed. That man’s impatience, his arrogance—it was all the same. And now, he’d gone and taken Haram from him. Tae-yi couldn’t stand by any longer.
He already knew exactly what Kang Tae-jin wanted from him.
For now, he had to make the bastard believe Haram was worth more alive than dead—to make it clear how desperately he wanted him back. That was the only way to keep Haram safe.
In the heavy silence filling the car on the way to the airport, a long sigh escaped his lips.
***
Sniffle… sniffle…
The man who’d come into the warehouse to give Haram water stopped in his tracks. He watched quietly as the tiny Sky Squirrel on the floor of the cage trembled and wept, his small shoulders shaking.
The man slipped a bottle full of water through the bars and turned to leave.
“Chii—chiiik…!”
Please, let me out of here…!
Tears clung to Haram’s wide eyes as he called out desperately.
“The boss doesn’t come here often,” the man said flatly. “So don’t try anything stupid. Stay quiet, and you won’t get hurt.”
He was basically telling him to sit still, eat, drink, and be a good little captive.
“Chik, chiiik?”
Where am I?
Please, just tell me where this is. Haram pressed his tiny hands together, pleading. But the man only glanced at him once before walking out.
Thud— The door slammed shut, and his footsteps faded into the distance.
The moment the man was gone, Haram’s tears stopped. His ears perked up, straining to follow the sound of retreating footsteps. The hallway was long—and from the faint echo of steps descending, it seemed he wasn’t on the ground floor.
Wiping his face with a paw, Haram climbed up the iron bars of the cage with ease. He searched for the widest gap between the bars, then shoved his head through.
“Squeak…!”
It’s working…!
His head slipped through—his thin body and flat tail would follow easily. With a few wriggles, he pulled the rest of himself out, tail and all, and couldn’t hold back a triumphant laugh of high-pitched squeaks.
Should I transform and run, or maybe take apart that vent? If I stack those boxes and climb up there…
Now that he knew he could fit through, getting out wasn’t the problem—the real issue was what came next. He didn’t know where he was or how many people might be watching outside.
As he gripped the cage and scanned the room, deep in thought, footsteps approached again. Startled, Haram quickly shoved his head back through the bars.
Clatter! The door swung open, flooding the room with harsh light. Just in time, Haram wriggled fully back inside and squeaked loudly, acting as though nothing was amiss.
“Chee—cheek…!”
Please let me go home…!
The Beastfolk squirrel who came in clicked his tongue, unimpressed. Every time he came, the little Sky Squirrel said the same thing—begging over and over without fail. He slipped some nuts through the bars.
The kid’s shoulders shook as he cried; at this rate, he’d exhaust himself soon. Still, that wasn’t his concern. His job was to translate and keep watch—nothing more.
Without a second thought, he turned and left.
Once the footsteps faded entirely, Haram lifted his head sharply, eyes locking on the closed door.
“Cheek, cheek.”
Could’ve given me all of them at once.
Heart still pounding, he wiped away the last of his fake tears and climbed the cage again. Now that he knew the trick, escaping was easier this time.
Examining the vent on the wall, Haram transformed into his human form. Silently, he tiptoed up onto the boxes and touched the old metal grate. With a bit of force, it might pop right out.
The problem was the noise. Removing it quietly wouldn’t be easy. He swallowed hard, hesitating.
He wanted nothing more than to run to Tae-yi right this moment—but if he got caught, who knew what would happen to him? Letting out a silent sigh, Haram changed back into his beast form.
He crawled back into the cage, picked up a peanut, and began gnawing at it. He’d wait. Just a little longer.
At least now he knew he could slip out whenever the chance came—and that alone eased his anxiety. Settling down, Haram crunched on his peanut, telling himself it wouldn’t be long before he saw Tae-yi again.
They weren’t as good as the nuts Tae-yi bought him, but they weren’t bad either. Even if these Sky Squirrel Beastfolk had sided with Kang Tae-jin, at least they weren’t cruel enough to tamper with the food. Maybe this wasn’t the worst after all.
***
Three men sat in the room Professor Yoon had left behind, each cooling his anger in his own way.
“So you’re telling me Tae-jin’s finally lost it completely—and caused our father’s accident just to drag your hidden lover out of hiding?”
Having flown home the moment he heard about Professor Yoon’s crash, Yoon Ji-seok bit down on an unlit cigarette and muttered.
“We don’t know that yet. That’s not what matters right now.”
Yoon Min-ho, pressing a hand to his forehead, spoke in a quiet, measured tone, then sighed as he glanced at his older brother—the man looked a mess, his eyes wild. Who knew how much he’d been using? The fact that he’d made it back to Korea alive was a miracle in itself.
“So what does matter, then?”
“We have to get Da Haram back—from Kang Tae-jin.”
At that, Yoon Ji-seok turned his head toward Kang Tae-yi, seated beside him.
“So you’re really dating, huh?”
The remark was absurdly out of place given the heavy air in the room.
Kang Tae-yi… in a relationship? And with a squirrel the size of a cigarette pack? Ji-seok fiddled with the cigarette case in his hand and glanced at Tae-yi, who sat slouched on the sofa, eyes closed. The fact that their father had been in an accident was shocking enough—but finding out that Tae-yi was dating a rodent? Unbelievable.
Ji-seok alternated between his silent friend and his brother, whose expression was dripping with contempt, then let out a dry chuckle.
“Any word on Kang Tae-jin?”
Finally breaking his silence, Tae-yi looked up at Yoon Min-ho, seated across from him. His voice was low and hoarse with fatigue.
“He’s completely vanished. It’s going to take time to track him down.”
“Why’d he even hide in the first place? If he’s using your boyfriend as leverage, shouldn’t he be making demands by now?” Ji-seok cut in, glancing between the two men.
“He’s playing with us,” Min-ho replied grimly.
