“Chirp? Chirp?”
You did see that right, didn’t you?
Unable to understand a word, yet still chirping relentlessly while peeking downward, the little chipper made him laugh again.
“Show me again.”
Kang Tae-yi’s low voice echoed softly through the stillness of the forest. Almost like he’d been waiting for the request, Da Haram wiggled his butt—with its flat tail—and leapt into the air.
Haram spread his patagium wide and glided effortlessly, landing on a branch across the way. From below, his flight made him look like a square-shaped kite floating through the air.
Tae-yi’s gaze tracked Haram’s every movement, following wherever he flew. When Tae-yi clapped his large hands together, Haram’s chubby cheeks twitched slightly. For a second, he really felt like something special.
“Chirp, chirp.”
No big deal.
Haram stretched out one of his hind legs and casually stroked the long whiskers near his nose with his tiny front paw as he answered. Of course, Tae-yi didn’t understand a thing.
He just kept watching Haram fly around like that, endlessly entertained—until fat raindrops began to fall from the sky, now painted in the colors of dusk.
“Chirp…!”
A heavy drop slipped through the leaves and plopped right onto Haram’s head, followed by another and another. He flinched, then crouched low, pressing all four legs tight to the branch.
“Let’s go.”
At Tae-yi’s voice from below, Haram peeked down. The man was looking up at him, palm held out.
Was he supposed to land on that?
Without hesitation, Haram jumped toward the offered hand. But the moment he took off, he realized something was wrong.
He tried to shift his direction mid-air—but it was already too late.
“Chirp…!”
Get out of the way…!
Smack!
All four of his jelly-soft paws landed directly on Tae-yi’s face with a loud, sticky splat, and his fluffy white belly squashed right into Tae-yi’s tall nose. Haram’s eyes fluttered open nervously as he blinked, then immediately offered an apology.
“Chirp, chirp!”
I’m sorry!
He hadn’t landed in Tae-yi’s hand at all. He’d smacked him right in the face. Clambering awkwardly over the man’s nose and up his dark, damp hair, Haram kept squeaking apologies.
“Terrible landing, huh?”
When Tae-yi finally spoke with a faint chuckle in his voice, Haram let out a sigh of relief.
“Chirp…”
Sorry…
Then he flattened himself across Tae-yi’s head and stretched his patagium wide, trying to shield him from the rain. It was his way of apologizing.
“Is this… a squirrel umbrella?”
The silly little warmth above his head made Tae-yi smile.
“Chirp…!”
Sky Squirrel…!
Tae-yi chuckled as if he understood the intent behind Haram’s words. He carefully lifted the tiny Sky Squirrel off his head and tucked him into the folds of his tracksuit jacket, shielding him from the rain. Then he began heading down the mountain.
Peeking out from under the jacket, Haram looked up at Tae-yi’s rain-drenched shirt, then back at his face.
“Chirp, chirp?”
Do you want to use this?
Clinging to the edge of the jacket, Haram squeaked again. Tae-yi looked down at him and gently pulled the jacket up, fully hiding Haram inside.
Inside the warm, dim space, Haram kept letting out faint squeaks. Tae-yi listened quietly as he made his way down the slope at a steady pace.
By the time Tae-yi crossed through the gate, the downpour had drenched him completely. Standing at the entrance, he lowered Haram onto the floor and pushed back his wet bangs with a swipe.
Haram, who had emerged from the jacket completely dry, unlike Tae-yi, glanced up at the soaking man and scurried across the living room on all fours. Moments later, he returned from the room pushing a white towel with his head and dragging it with his mouth and paws. He dropped the towel at Tae-yi’s feet just as the man was struggling to take off his soaked sneakers.
“Chirp! Chirp!”
Take off the wet clothes!
Maybe understanding the message, Tae-yi looked down at the chirping bundle and pulled off his soaked T-shirt, tossing it to the floor before drying his upper body and hair with the towel.
Watching him, Haram quickly realized one towel wasn’t enough and dashed off again.
“Chirp…!”
When he returned, dragging another towel, Haram stopped dead in his tracks and leapt in place—because Tae-yi was now standing there completely naked.
“Why?”
Apparently amused by the puffball bouncing on the spot, Tae-yi laughed and bent down to dry himself with the towel Haram had brought. Haram immediately turned around and blinked his large eyes repeatedly.
It reminded him of the time in second grade when he grew his first eggplant by himself. His grandmother had praised him, saying he had a gift for farming. All those memories came rushing back. Kang Tae-yi was just… amazing.
Wait, what am I even thinking…!
“Chirp… chirp!”
I’m sorry…!
Ashamed at thinking something so inappropriate while standing in front of someone, Haram slapped his cheeks with his tiny paws and shook his head to forget the “eggplant.” Then, after one more apology, he darted back into the room.
Tae-yi watched the puffball disappear with its silver-gray tail sticking straight up, and let out a short laugh as he finished drying himself.
When he heard the bathroom door open and close, Haram finally shifted back into his human form. Even though no one was in the room, he awkwardly got dressed and stepped out into the living room.
As the sound of water continued from the bathroom, Haram went around the house closing windows. He pulled out a white t-shirt, pants, and underwear from the shopping bag left behind by the debt collector ajusshi, placed them outside the bathroom door, then headed to the kitchen.
“Oh, the infused liquor.”
He had meant it when he said they’d have a drink tonight, right? Staring down at the jar of homemade liquor on the bottom shelf of the fridge, Haram finally pulled it out and set down two mugs.
“That’s the kind of glass you meant?”
At some point, Tae-yi had come up behind him, towel draped around his neck, now fully dressed in the clothes Haram had laid out. Haram, caught off guard, let out an awkward laugh.
“There weren’t any proper glasses… Uh, are your injuries okay?”
“They’ve completely healed.”
Haram gave a slow nod, then hesitated.
“Do you… want to borrow my phone now?”
The half-defeated look on his face made Tae-yi chuckle. He took one of the mugs from Haram and smiled.
“Let’s have a drink first.”
Relieved that he wasn’t leaving right away, Haram nodded.
“Wanna watch a movie? We can have popcorn too.”
Excited, he practically skipped over to the living room, turning on the TV. Tae-yi watched him fondly, then asked as Haram came bouncing back toward the kitchen:
“Should I pop some?”
Haram paused mid-step, then broke into cheerful laughter—a bright, unguarded sound that contrasted sharply with the storm pounding outside. Tae-yi stared at Haram’s beaming face, almost dazed, and asked what was so funny. Haram simply opened the cupboard and held up a bag of popcorn.
“I buy the ready-made kind, you know.”
Apparently the idea of popping it from scratch had really tickled him. He kept giggling as he tore the bag open.
Tae-yi filled both mugs halfway with the infused liquor and followed Haram to the sofa with the popcorn.
“That’s a lot.”
Even with just half a mug, the strong scent of alcohol overpowered everything—including the smell of the savory popcorn.
“Just drink however much you can handle.”
Tae-yi, sitting beside him, gave that instruction as Haram hesitantly held the mug in both hands.
“Okay. Wanna toast?”
His hopeful expression made it impossible to say no. Tae-yi clinked his mug against Haram’s, then took a sip. Watching him, Haram rushed to do the same.
It tasted absolutely awful—bitter and sharp. His face scrunched up on reflex. Tae-yi didn’t look like he enjoyed it either. Haram grabbed a handful of popcorn to cleanse his palate and shoved it in his mouth, then offered the bag to Tae-yi. Tae-yi took one piece, then nudged the bag back toward Haram and lifted his mug again.
Haram stared, wide-eyed, as Tae-yi drank like it was water. Then he raised his own mug and took another cautious sip.
Neither of them bothered starting a movie. They just sat there, the TV still on in the background, quietly listening to the rain and raising their mugs again and again.
Tae-yi stared at a framed photo on the table, then looked down at Haram, who was noisily munching on popcorn.
“When did you start living alone?”
Caught off guard, Haram hurried to chew and swallow before answering.
“My grandmother passed away two years ago. Been on my own since.”
“What about your parents?”
“They died in a car accident when I was five. I barely remember them.”
There was no hint of sadness in his voice—just quiet acceptance. Tae-yi gently tapped his mug against Haram’s.
Even that small gesture felt comforting. Feeling oddly warmed, Haram took another sip of the liquor. Was it just him, or did it taste a little sweeter now?
His cheeks were turning pink, and he hadn’t taken his lips off the mug for a while. Tae-yi asked,
“Didn’t you say your limit was one drink?”
“I’m not getting drunk tonight. Should we have a little more?”
Before Tae-yi could stop him, Haram shot up from the couch and stumbled toward the kitchen. Watching him sway like a tipsy old man, Tae-yi stood to follow—reaching out to steady him by the arm.
But the slender limb slipped right out of his grip in an instant.
“…Da Haram?”
A rare look of surprise crossed Tae-yi’s face. He lowered his head sharply, eyes landing on the crumpled clothes left behind.
Moments later, a silver-gray puff of fur squirmed its way out from the pile. Tae-yi let out a breathless laugh as he crouched and gently scooped up the soft ball of fur in his hands.
