Tae-yi, locking eyes with Chief Yoon, gave a slight nod to silently convey a message. Catching the signal, Chief Yoon finally responded in a regretful tone.
“Ah, yes. It was a… roe deer…”
“A roe deer? But Tae-yi said it was the dogs…”
“Ah! I meant… the dogs were the size of roe deer. That’s what I meant.”
He had scrambled for a scapegoat in the short time he had, blaming the notorious mortal enemy of all farmers—the roe deer. But his boss’s sloppy cover-up had ruined it all. Who’d believe dogs destroyed a peanut field? Obviously, it had to be roe deer.
Chief Yoon, who was normally composed, now stammered and fidgeted, prompting Haram to ask with concern.
“Are you okay?”
Chief Yoon gave an awkward nod in reply. If Haram kept asking about the peanut field, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the day. Even though it wasn’t his fault, he felt a stab of guilt every time he met the eyes of the field’s owner.
Just as cold sweat began to bead on his forehead, the long-awaited salvation arrived with the sound of the trunk slamming shut.
“Chief Yoon, you can go back in now.”
A voice of deliverance. There were clearly a lot of things left to carry, but he had no intention of helping. All he wanted was to get out of there as fast as possible.
As if fleeing a scene, Chief Yoon jumped into the car and sped off without a hint of hesitation. The black sedan vanished in a blink.
“He must be exhausted. He seemed different from usual.”
Haram had wanted to ask more questions, but now he’d have to wait for another time. With his tail drooping in disappointment, he stared blankly in the direction Chief Yoon had gone before turning around.
The two wandered through the pine tree garden, searching for a sunny spot. Once Haram placed the planter in a good location, he filled it with soil and dug a hole to plant the cherry tomato seedlings.
He transplanted them gently, careful not to damage the roots, then stuck a stake behind the seedlings to hold the stems upright. The whole process ended quicker than he’d expected, and Haram, looking slightly disappointed, began playing with the leftover soil, kneading it between his fingers.
“Should we buy more?”
Tae-yi, who had been quietly watching, took Haram’s dirt-covered hands in his and asked. There was no way Farmer Da Haram would be satisfied with planting just two tomato seedlings.
Haram stopped playing in the dirt and, without a word, clasped Tae-yi’s hand resting on the back of his own.
“…Water.”
“Hm?”
Tae-yi leaned down at the whisper-soft voice, gazing at Haram, whose head was bowed. Even without eye contact, the heat rising through his silver hair showed his ears were glowing red.
“Every time you water them… think of me…”
Haram trailed off, hesitating endlessly with his head still down. Tae-yi had a good idea of where that sentence was going. There was always something delightfully sly about him, the more you looked.
Wanting to hear him say it out loud, Tae-yi waited patiently, then leaned in to playfully nibble Haram’s flushed ear.
But the teasing must’ve been too intense—Haram startled violently and leapt to his feet.
“Y-You have to pour the water around the seedling, not directly on it!”
Spitting the words out like a machine gun, Haram turned tail and dashed into the house, his silver-gray fur fluttering behind him.
Left alone in the garden, Tae-yi chuckled and picked up the watering can.
He decided to honor the message Haram hadn’t quite been able to say. Just as instructed, Tae-yi watered the soil in a circle around the seedling. After shaking the dirt off his hands, he slowly followed the path Haram had taken.
There was no sign of him on the first floor—he must’ve gone to his room. Climbing the stairs, Tae-yi suddenly paused and turned to look down the long corridor.
He wanted to check what Chief Yoon had delivered, but with a Sky Squirrel Beastfolk in the house, whose hearing was sharp as a hawk’s, sneaking around wasn’t an option. Letting out a quiet sigh, Tae-yi resumed walking.
***
Tae-yi truly didn’t leave the house—not even once. While Haram liked having him nearby, he couldn’t help but worry. There was something about his home life that felt impenetrable, like a wall Haram shouldn’t dare cross. He held back his questions, but that didn’t make his curiosity go away.
It was difficult. In their relationship, he wasn’t sure where the line was. Everything he did with Tae-yi was a first, which made it even harder. And it wasn’t something he could ask someone else about. Not that he had any friends to ask.
Sighing in frustration, Haram rolled around on the bed, gazing absentmindedly out the window at the warm sunlight.
The sky in the city wasn’t much different from the one back at his rural home, lying on the hanok’s wooden porch. Peaceful. Serene.
“About to fall asleep?”
Startled by Tae-yi’s voice, Haram quickly sat up. Tae-yi, now perched on the edge of the bed, reached over to smooth down his messy bangs and asked,
“Wanna go to the hospital today?”
“The hospital?”
“Yeah. You should attend the education session. I’ve got an appointment, so I won’t be able to take you. Is it okay if Chief Yoon drives you?”
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
Haram wanted to ask what kind of appointment it was, but once again, he simply nodded in silence. Tae-yi, watching him head into the dressing room, looked surprised.
Had he truly accepted that he was an Omega now? Even if it wasn’t for treatment, just going to the hospital for education like this—his quiet compliance was unexpected. He even looked… oddly upbeat.
“You seem in a good mood.”
“Me? Not really…”
Haram shook his head as he slid his arms into a light cardigan. It wasn’t the hospital itself—he’d just thought of someone he might be able to talk to.
“Do you think I’ll see Dr. Da In-ho? He’s probably really busy, huh.”
“Da In-ho?”
So that was what had him so excited? The unexpected name made something twist unpleasantly in Tae-yi’s chest.
Thinking Tae-yi didn’t remember who Da In-ho was, Haram began chattering, giving an explanation—but it quickly turned into praise. With each word, Tae-yi’s brow furrowed deeper.
“What do you want to see him for?”
“Just… I have some things I want to ask.”
Avoiding his gaze, Haram mumbled and slipped out of the room. Tae-yi stared blankly at his back before following a moment later. As he trailed down the stairs behind Haram, he pressed a trail of kisses to his smooth nape. Haram’s flat tail shot up in surprise.
“Y-You’re gonna make me fall…”
He flinched, shoulders tensing from the ticklish sensation. When he turned, Tae-yi was smiling—but something about the smile felt different.
Was it just his imagination, or did that smile seem… disappointed?
Just as Haram awkwardly smiled back, trying to follow Tae-yi’s lead, Chief Yoon entered and bowed his head.
“I’m heading out!”
Haram, whose smile had been twitching from discomfort, lit up the moment he saw Chief Yoon and sprinted toward the front door like he’d been waiting all day. Watching his retreating figure, Tae-yi let out a dry chuckle and pressed a finger to his furrowed brow.
“Stay close and keep an eye on him.”
He gave Chief Yoon a few more instructions before heading down the hallway that led to the back of the living room. Slowly descending the basement stairs, he pushed open the heavy metal door, revealing a dusty storage space.
The narrow basement was packed with unlabeled boxes and tools, the shelves sagging under the weight. Even the homeowner probably had no idea what was in here.
Tae-yi flipped a switch on the wall, and a single bulb in the center of the room flickered to life. With no windows, this was the only source of light—and under its pale glow, a man lay sprawled on the floor like cargo, groaning and squinting at the sudden brightness.
Tae-yi walked over slowly and roughly turned the man onto his back by the shoulder.
A battered debtor’s face came into view.
“Could’ve at least brought you a chair. Chief Yoon’s not very thoughtful.”
His nose was bleeding. Looks like Chief Yoon had found an outlet for his workplace stress.
Smiling faintly, Tae-yi looked down at the terrified man. He peeled the duct tape off the man’s mouth halfway and asked:
“It was you, wasn’t it?”
***
Worried he might distract Chief Yoon, who was driving, Haram hadn’t made a sound the entire ride. Instead, he stared silently out the window, body held tense. That’s when he realized—even in a nice car, being uncomfortable makes everything worse.
After the stiff ride, they finally arrived at the hospital. Forcing his sluggish body to move, Haram trailed behind Chief Yoon. But as more people began appearing around them, he swallowed nervously.
Curling his silver-gray tail tightly to minimize its size, he quickened his pace. Chief Yoon, who’d been leading the way, suddenly found himself trailing behind Haram and picked up speed to keep up.
“Haa… haa… This is it. I’ll wait outside.”
Panting like he’d been running from someone, Chief Yoon caught his breath as he pointed to the room. Haram, also breathless, nodded while hugging his flat tail.
As his breathing settled, the tension crept back in. Carefully opening the door, he found what looked exactly like a doctor’s office—despite this being a session for secondary gender education.
Alarmed, Haram stood frozen at the threshold. Just then, a door at the back of the room opened and someone stepped out, startling him. A man in a white coat greeted him warmly and gestured to the sofa in the center of the room.
