“Everyone, check your blankets.”
“Did we close the terrace door when we left?”
“I closed the veranda side.”
“Could it have gone out through the bathroom vent?”
“We closed the bathroom door too.”
“Then where the hell is it?”
At the hopeless situation, Haeun raked his fingers through his hair. Even after the four of them searched for a long time, Pia was nowhere to be found. They had already called its name countless times. As everyone looked around the room with complicated expressions, Haru let out a short sigh.
“Over there… the window….”
All eyes turned at once to where Haru pointed. The window in the living area was slightly open. It was only about the size of a palm, but if the small creature squeezed itself through, it was wide enough to get out.
“Ah….”
“I thought we closed everything before leaving.”
“We were in a rush this morning….”
Sighs overlapped one after another. It was true—Pia could have gone out that way. Sihyeon rubbed his temple with his fingertips.
Did it really leave through there?
The distance from the bed to the window was fairly far. Considering Pia couldn’t even fly for a full minute before falling earlier, it seemed absurd to think it had flown all the way there and escaped. But still—if it had gone out through the window…
“…It should be nearby.”
If it went out through the window, it couldn’t be far. When it left was important, but Pia had cried all night and only fallen asleep at dawn. It probably hadn’t been awake for long. At Sihyeon’s reasoning, Haru nodded. It was just past 7 a.m., meaning they had three hours until roll call. They had to find Pia within that time.
As they stepped out into the hallway and put on their shoes, the other three from Room 207 followed suit.
“Should we start by checking around the window?”
“Wouldn’t it have already gone farther by now?”
“You never know. Maybe it got tired and is resting somewhere. Our Pia can barely fly for a few seconds.”
“Or should we split up?”
After a moment of thought, Sihyeon spoke. Haeun tilted his head.
“You want the four of us to search separately?”
“No. If we all search the same place, we won’t be thorough. Let’s split into pairs. You two go check around the window. We’ll look around the dorm.”
Pairing Hamin with Haeun, Sihyeon got an immediate agreement. They decided to call if they found anything. Just as they were about to split up, Haeun suddenly turned back.
“Sihyeon!”
“…?”
“What if someone else already picked Pia up?”
“Ah….”
At Haeun’s question, Haru’s eyes wavered with anxiety. After all, they themselves had taken Pia from the terrace—there was no reason others wouldn’t do the same. The thought that someone might have already taken it—or even reported it—crossed Sihyeon’s mind, and he fell silent. Haru’s face turned pale as he lowered his head.
“…Let’s just look for now.”
It was only a possibility, not a certainty. Haru was already visibly anxious—there was no need to make it worse. Even when Sihyeon tried to reassure him with a quiet It’ll be okay, his expression didn’t ease.
A sigh escaped.
He had to take care of Haru and find Pia—somehow, it felt like he’d suddenly ended up with two kids.
While Hamin and Haeun checked near the window, Sihyeon and Haru searched around the school grounds. Sihyeon frowned. In a campus this large, finding such a tiny creature was no easy task. If it were something publicly known, they could at least ask around—but that wasn’t the case.
This is why you shouldn’t get involved in things you can’t be honest about.
Letting out a brief lament, Sihyeon glanced at Haru, whose expression grew darker the longer the search went on. He’d already looked down earlier, but now it seemed like he might start digging into the ground at any moment.
Clicking his tongue, Sihyeon thought about it—Pia was the first creature Haru had ever taken in with his own hands. It wasn’t strange for him to act like this.
Firsts are always precious.
Even for himself—wasn’t that why he cherished Haru so much?
His blue eyes slowly sank into thought. Reflection led to understanding.
Maybe he’d been too cold.
Scratching at his neck in frustration, Sihyeon pressed his tired eyelids. If it had just been a stray cat, he wouldn’t have acted like this.
Who in their right mind would happily say, Sure, keep it! when someone brought in a suspicious creature?
“…What if someone stepped on it?”
“Don’t think like that, hyung. It’s really loud, remember? It would’ve cried before that happened.”
“…Pia.”
“Yes. Not ‘it’—Pia.”
Was he dealing with an eighteen-year-old, or an eight-year-old?
Trying to lighten the mood, Sihyeon ruffled Haru’s hair. Haru quietly accepted the gesture before continuing to walk. There were too many places left to check.
[Did you find it?]
“No. What about you guys?”
[We didn’t see it either. We even checked the garden just in case, but nothing. Are you sure someone didn’t take it?]
“Stop saying things like that and just keep looking. Where are you checking next?”
[Hamin said we should try the cafeteria, so we’re heading there. What about you?]
“We already checked there, so look somewhere nearby. We’ll try going inside the school building.”
It was already past 8. After more than an hour of searching, they hadn’t even found a single feather. Running a hand through his hair, Sihyeon hung up and looked at Haru.
“They couldn’t find it either.”
Haru didn’t respond—maybe he’d already given up. The heavy atmosphere followed them as Sihyeon stepped into the central entrance. Now they’d be searching inside the school building, which meant they might run into teachers.
Honestly, it’d be better if they’d all gone home already.
He was just starting to think about excuses in case they were caught—
“Pyapyat!”
A faint sound reached his ears from somewhere. Sihyeon stopped walking. Unsure, he looked at Haru—whose eyes were already wide.
Their gazes met, and without words, they came to the same conclusion.
“That was Pia, right?”
“…Yeah.”
“I couldn’t tell exactly—where did it come from?”
“From ahead… I’m not sure exactly.”
The sound had been faint and only heard once. Moving forward slowly, Sihyeon looked at the print room, the principal’s office, the administration office, and the main faculty office.
He had a strong feeling it was somewhere there.
“Papapyat!”
“…!”
Another sound came. It was ahead of the print room. Passing it without hesitation, Sihyeon and Haru stopped in the hallway.
If they could just hear it one more time, they’d know for sure…
Silence stretched briefly. During that time, Sihyeon texted Haeun that they might have found it and added another message telling them to come. Then he put his phone away.
“Pyapyapya, pyat!”
Perfect timing—the sound came again.
But this time, neither Sihyeon nor Haru could move as boldly as before.
“…….”
Of all places… why there?
The sound had come from beyond the closed door of the principal’s office.
Sihyeon stepped forward. Slowly, he leaned in and listened at the door. Sure enough, a faint pii, pii- could be heard. Whether he closed his eyes, covered one ear, or even tried to listen upside down—it was unmistakable.
It was Pia.
“…I think it’s in here.”
Sihyeon whispered. Haru nodded, equally flustered, unsure what to do.
Then—
Click.
The door to the principal’s office opened.
“……!”
Startled, Sihyeon stepped back, bumping lightly into Haru behind him. As he muttered a quiet apology, the principal blinked upon seeing them.
“…Student Kang Sihyeon? And Student Ban Haru?”
“I heard something and came out—and I see familiar faces. So, what brings you to the principal’s office at this hour?”
At the voice, Sihyeon raised his head. As he fumbled for an excuse—
“Pyat!”
A familiar sound rang out.
His blue eyes instinctively dropped.
“Pyat!”
The creature flapped its wings from within the principal’s arms.
It was Pia.
“Ah, Pia—!”
“…Hmm?”
Spotting it, Haru instinctively called out and reached forward—then quickly stepped back, realizing his mistake. Anyone would find that suspicious.
The principal narrowed his eyes, glancing between the two of them. Under the suspicious gaze, Sihyeon pressed a hand to his aching forehead.
Whether it was Pia ending up in the principal’s office—or Haru calling out its name at this exact moment—both were equally disastrous.
“Shall we step inside and talk?”
It sounded like a suggestion, but it wasn’t optional.
Swallowing a sigh at the mess Pia had caused, Sihyeon slowly stepped forward.
“…Yes.”
His voice was heavy with resignation.
“So, to summarize—you want to keep it, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“…….”
Sihyeon had clearly been the one explaining the situation, but somewhere along the way, Haru had cut in and steered the conversation toward keeping Pia. Watching things unfold in the exact opposite direction of what he’d intended, Sihyeon took a sip of tea. His throat kept drying from frustration.
“As principal, I have a duty to protect my students. You understand that I can’t simply accept what you’re asking, correct, Haru?”
“Yes.”
As expected. Even to him, the creature looked suspicious—there was no way the principal wouldn’t think the same. Thinking this would end with them reporting it, Sihyeon set his teacup down, his thirst finally eased. He was just about to stand—
“However, it’s not entirely impossible.”
“…Excuse me?”
Sihyeon, halfway to standing, froze.
Was this some kind of joke?
Looking at the principal in disbelief, he saw the man smile faintly as he glanced at Pia in Haru’s arms.
“It seems this little one has grown quite attached to both of you. So, if you can meet one condition, I might allow it.”
“…A condition?”
“Yes. Simple in theory—and difficult in practice.”
Haru clenched his hands on his lap. After a brief glance at Pia, he looked up at the principal. His red eyes were steady, without a hint of wavering.
“I don’t know what it is, but I’ll do it.”
“Hyung?”
“Very well. The condition is simple—take first place in this month’s evaluation and earn a Wish Ticket.”
“…….”
The conversation moved so quickly it was almost absurd. Left behind by the flow, Sihyeon stared blankly.
Was this really okay?
It sounded like they were supposed to use a Wish Ticket to get permission—but this was a creature they didn’t even understand in the first place…
Lost in thought, he watched as Haru nodded.
In this ridiculous situation—where a student and a principal were essentially making a deal—Sihyeon couldn’t even begin to guess where he was supposed to report this.
“Good. Then I’ll take care of this little one until the results of the monthly evaluation are announced. Since the next evaluation is a partner evaluation, do your best to cooperate with Sihyeon, Haru.”
At the principal’s words, Haru nodded as he handed Pia over.
Still dazed, Sihyeon followed Haru out of the office, his lips parting slightly as if to speak but never forming words.
Click.
As the door closed, the principal, now holding Pia, looked toward where the two had left.
His narrowed gaze lingered on the door before shifting to the creature.
“Pyapyat!”
The small creature cried as if dissatisfied with being held by him. The principal gently stroked it with a rough hand. The sharp horn brushed against his palm. His eyes drifted to the small wings.
“…So it’s been tamed.”
A quiet murmur filled the office.
No one heard it—except the small creature in his arms.
