Since Yi-hyeon had already been caught by Han Jun manipulating the remote once before, he was determined not to make the same mistake twice. With that thought in mind, he began rummaging through the room, nosing around here and there. Then his gaze stopped on a round object placed on top of the bookshelf.
Could that be a home cam?
Thinking he could disguise it as an accident—like he’d been fooling around and knocked it down—he started kicking the shelf with his hind legs, pababak. At first, it didn’t budge at all, but with the repeated recoil, the object slowly began to slide.
Just a little more!
With a few more persistent kicks, the object he suspected was a camera finally fell. But between the heavy thud came a sharp, light tak! sound as well.
Thinking he’d accidentally knocked down something that belonged to Mi-yeon, Yi-hyeon froze in shock. He hurriedly turned the camera lens back toward its original direction, then rushed toward where the sound had come from.
There, a small box lay on the floor.
Wrapped in pretty gift paper, it was a suspicious little box. Yi-hyeon brought his nose close and sniffed it, sniff sniff. Then, as the ribbon shifted, a card wedged in between slipped out with a soft tuk. Startled by the unexpected turn of events, Yi-hyeon scrambled away on all fours.
W-What is this. A letter? A card?
With his back pressed tightly against the wall, crouched in the corner, Yi-hyeon stared at the fallen card in silence. Worried that touching someone else’s belongings might cause trouble, he decided to put it back and slowly crept forward again.
Just as he was about to pick the card up in his mouth, Yi-hyeon caught sight of the message written neatly at the top—“Our Jun.” Realizing it was likely a card left by Joo Mi-yeon, he read on with a doubtful heart, only to feel his chest suddenly tighten.
[Our Jun, you’ve always told Mom that you wanted to raise a puppy, but I kept saying no every time. For this birthday, let’s go see a new family member together. This is something I want you to put on them yourself. I sincerely congratulate you on your nineteenth birthday. My everything, Han Jun♡]
A wave rippled through his heart.
The small box was a gift Joo Mi-yeon had prepared for Han Jun. Thinking that a mother’s present—prepared in advance with her son in mind—had been left here, waiting for him to notice it, made one side of Yi-hyeon’s chest ache dully.
Yi-hyeon quickly picked up the card in his mouth and slid it back into the gap between the ribbons. Then he carried the gift over to the corner of the bed. Though she had passed away, Mi-yeon decided to stage it so that Han Jun would “coincidentally” discover the present on his birthday, so that his mother’s feelings, poured into that gift, wouldn’t be buried and forgotten.
After hiding the box carefully out of sight, Yi-hyeon sat there blankly, lost in thought. Something about Joo Mi-yeon’s sudden departure felt unresolved—especially when she’d even prepared an event, planning to go look at birthday presents together with her son.
Why? If she prepared all this, it means she was looking forward to Jun’s birthday even more than Jun himself.
For a long while, Yi-hyeon stayed under the bed, sorting through all the unsettling things that had happened to him so far.
***
It wasn’t until after 10 p.m. that Han Jun’s voice came from the first floor.
“I’m back.”
Yi-hyeon, who had been sleeping buried deep inside a nest made by rolling Han Jun’s blanket into a bundle, perked both ears at the familiar voice and bounded downstairs.
“Woof woof!”
“Who cares whether you’re back or not.”
Chairman Joo, who had been sitting in the living room, snapped the newspaper he was reading shut and tossed it aside before heading indifferently toward his room. He’d been watching TV in his room, then come out to the living room around the time Han Jun was due home—but he really was an awfully dishonest grandfather.
“Woof!”
Yi-hyeon rushed at Han Jun, wagging his tail frantically as he spun around in circles. He spun so much—whether the tail was making Yi-hyeon turn or Yi-hyeon was making the tail turn was impossible to tell—that he ended up wobbling, dizzy.
Han Jun scooped him up and gently stroked his head.
“Louis, did you have fun? You’re the only one who welcomes hyung properly. A kiss.”
Chuk. Han Jun’s soft lips touched Yi-hyeon’s snout and then pulled away.
At that moment, Yi-hyeon’s paddling paws froze, and his tail—whirring like a propeller—drooped straight down.
A tingling current gathered in the left side of his chest, and his heart began to pound—thump thump. It wasn’t even the first time he’d touched lips with Han Jun, so Yi-hyeon didn’t understand why his heart had forgotten its rhythm like this.
He stared at Han Jun with dazed eyes for a while.
“Hey, blockhead.”
Han Jun tossed his bag aside the moment he got home and started fastening Yi-hyeon’s harness. From halfway down the stairs, Mi-jin stopped and leaned her head over the railing.
“You’re taking Louis for a walk?”
“Yeah. I can’t exactly take you for a walk, Auntie.”
“You never let a single comment slide. Oh, right—your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it? Anything you want? If there is, try saying it. I’m not saying I’ll buy it for you. I just want to hear what boys your age want for their birthdays.”
When she added that she’d use it as reference for her next collection if it sounded decent, Yi-hyeon’s ears perked right up.
His birthday’s coming up!
It seemed he’d be able to deliver Actress Joo Mi-yeon’s gift sooner than expected. And on top of that, Yi-hyeon wanted to give Han Jun a present of his own.
But he couldn’t exactly buy something in the form of a puppy, and with paws padded soft and round, he couldn’t even write a letter. All he’d gathered were a one-eyed squeaky chick doll, a golf ball, a rib bone he’d gnawed on last night, and a shiny pebble he’d picked up in the garden. That was it.
“Ah, I don’t think what I want can go into a collection.”
“What is it this time? Something grand again?”
“If you want to put this in a collection, Auntie, you’ll have to change careers. To real estate.”
“What?”
“What I want is a house. One in my name.”
Han Jun blurted out his desired gift without even a second of hesitation—and it was on an entirely different scale. Unlike Yi-hyeon, who stared with wide eyes, Mi-jin let out a snort of disbelief.
“You’re really planning to bleed your Auntie dry, huh?”
“You told me to say what I wanted. I want a house where it’s just me and Louis, living together.”
“The idiot here is me for even asking. Forget it. Forget it.”
Declaring it never happened, Mi-jin pulled her head back and went upstairs again.
“If you’re not going to buy it, why even ask?”
Han Jun grumbled as he slung Yi-hyeon’s walking bag over his shoulder.
Was a house really something you could just ask to be bought as a birthday present? Yi-hyeon found Mi-jin’s reaction perfectly understandable. He trotted ahead, stopping in front of the front door before Han Jun, who was still putting on his shoes.
***
The last week of April.
Han Jun, who was usually slick and always grinning, felt different. At first, Yi-hyeon wondered if he was sick, but he didn’t have a fever, and the scent he carried was the same as ever. That left only one reason.
His birthday’s coming up, so he must be thinking about his late mother.
Yi-hyeon could tell quickly, since it was something he went through every year himself.
Whenever the chilly scent of winter crept into the air, Yi-hyeon would think of his mom, who used to cook him delicious seaweed soup and try to press even a small present into his hands despite having no money.
Maybe when Han Jun looked up at the clear May sky—the month of his birthday—he thought of his mother too. Yi-hyeon hopped up onto the sofa and snuggled close to Han Jun, who was sitting there blankly holding the remote. Then he lay down with his chin resting on Han Jun’s thigh.
“Want to watch too, Louis?”
Startled back to his senses by Yi-hyeon’s actions, Han Jun smiled faintly, scrolled through the list, and played a movie. It was a romance film released quite a while ago—the very work that had propelled Joo Mi-yeon to top-star status.
As I thought. He was thinking about his mother.
Yi-hyeon padded across the sofa and naturally lay down beside Han Jun. Han Jun lifted him and settled him on his thigh, then began stroking Yi-hyeon’s fur.
But whenever Joo Mi-yeon’s face filled the screen, his hand unconsciously came to a stop.
[I have nothing more to say to you. Let’s break up.]
[Just listen to me. I told you, there’s nothing going on between me and that woman!]
As the scene changed, Han Jun let out a low sigh and resumed gently rubbing Yi-hyeon’s back. Yi-hyeon, as if to comfort him, quietly rubbed his chin against Han Jun’s thigh.
[Please. Please, just let me stay in this house until the child’s illness gets better!]
What…?
Yi-hyeon felt a strange sense of déjà vu in Actress Joo Mi-yeon’s desperate voice coming from the TV and perked his ears. He listened closely as she delivered the line again.
[Please, I’m begging you.]
Please. I’m begging you. I won’t ask for anything more.
The woman’s voice Yi-hyeon had heard before the accident was incredibly similar to Actress Joo Mi-yeon’s. No—it was identical. Not just the voice, but the tone, the breathing, everything was eerily, chillingly the same as what he’d heard that day.
A month had already passed since that incident, and maybe Yi-hyeon had misheard—but the goosebumps rising on his skin, as if remembering that moment, seemed to insist it wasn’t just his imagination.
T-That’s impossible. Was Louis… Actress Joo Mi-yeon?
***
The next day, and the day after that, while Han Jun was at school, Yi-hyeon kept playing movies and dramas starring Actress Joo Mi-yeon. No matter how many times he listened, it was unmistakably the same voice from that day.
It was a story straight out of a fairy tale.
That a mother, unable to keep her promise to her son who wanted to raise a puppy, had turned into a dog so she could stay by his side.
No matter how much he tried to deny such an absurd idea, every situation lined up perfectly. The woman’s voice begging to be allowed to stay with the child at least until his birthday. A puppy that seemed to be fleeing from something—and himself entering that body. Even the terrifyingly identical voices of the two, down to the smallest detail.
