While Haram was lost in thought, Da In-ho’s phone rang from his pocket. He quickly checked the screen, then looked down at Haram and said,
“I think I have to get going now. Let’s meet again next time you’re at the hospital.”
“Chit, chirp!”
Next time, coffee’s on me!
Haram raised an almond as he spoke. He stared blankly at Da In-ho’s retreating back as the man hurried out of the café—until he felt someone’s gaze from the side and turned his head.
“Would you like to get changed?”
At Chief Yoon’s question, Haram glanced toward the restroom in the distance. Seeing the long line stretching out the door, he let out a sigh. The thought of entering a public restroom with Chief Yoon, who was holding his clothes, made him break into a cold sweat.
“Chirp.”
Haram pointed toward the café’s entrance with his front paw. He was saying he’d rather just leave. Chief Yoon seemed to understand immediately. He nodded, grabbed the shopping bag containing Haram’s clothes and pill bottle, and stood from his seat. Now the question was: how were they going to get to the parking lot?
From the edge of the table, Chief Yoon hesitantly held out a palm toward Haram. But after a moment of hesitation, Haram simply shook his head. That large hand reminded him of Tae-yi. He didn’t want to ride in someone else’s hand—especially not anyone but Tae-yi. There was a strange discomfort to the idea.
“Chit, chirp.”
I can walk.
Again, Chief Yoon immediately understood what he meant. He could guess why Haram insisted on walking. He didn’t really want to carry him in his own hand either. But there was no way he could just stuff Haram into a shopping bag either.
Still, no matter how he looked at it, there was no way this tiny Sky Squirrel could make it safely to the parking lot. The café was crowded enough—he’d get kicked or stepped on before he even got out the door. And if something happened to him, Chief Yoon wouldn’t get away unscathed either.
“Just a moment.”
Haram, who had been about to leap from the edge of the table toward the chair, paused at Chief Yoon’s words and shifted in place. When the man returned a moment later, he was holding a paper cup meant for hot drinks.
“Chirp!”
Raising both paws in delight, Haram slipped right into the cup. Chief Yoon looked down at the Sky Squirrel now cozily nestled inside and had to suppress a laugh—it was a perfect fit.
Haram seemed to like the snug space, sitting comfortably as he tilted his head back, watching the scenery change rapidly around him.
Chief Yoon carefully placed the cup into the car’s cupholder, hesitated for a second, then started the engine. Honestly, this might be the safest way to travel.
“You doing okay?”
“Tch!”
Apparently thrilled with the arrangement, Haram responded boldly and gave Chief Yoon a polite nod from inside the cup. Watching the little Beastfolk bow from inside a paper cup made Chief Yoon stifle another laugh as he clenched his jaw and began driving. The more he saw of Da Haram, the more he started to understand what Kang Tae-yi had fallen for.
***
“Tch, chirp?”
You’re early?
Hearing the familiar sound behind him, Tae-yi looked down from where he’d been waiting for Haram to appear behind Chief Yoon. Chief Yoon sheepishly lifted the paper cup holding Haram to Tae-yi’s eye level.
“Tch!”
Haram poked his head out from the cup and waved both paws energetically at Tae-yi.
“Why are you… in a cup?”
Tae-yi blinked, bewildered at the unexpected presentation.
“Chit, chirp.”
I couldn’t exactly ride in his hand.
Haram gestured at Chief Yoon with his gaze. Tae-yi couldn’t understand what he said but nodded absently anyway, then held out his palm toward the cup. As if waiting for this exact moment, Haram climbed right onto his hand and curled his paws around Tae-yi’s thumb.
The cute gesture made Tae-yi chuckle. He took the shopping bag from Chief Yoon and started up the stairs.
When he set Haram down on the bed, the Sky Squirrel immediately returned to human form. With his silvery-gray tail wrapped tightly around his lower half, Haram knelt on the bed and shuffled over to Tae-yi.
“You just got back from your appointment? What were you doing?”
Haram’s rapid-fire questions in his chirpy voice were music to Tae-yi’s ears. He reached out his hand, and Haram instinctively curled into his arms.
“Watering the tomatoes. Thinking about a certain squirrel.”
The corners of Haram’s mouth twitched subtly, then puffed out with a smile he couldn’t hold back. Whatever unease had settled in him during the hospital visit vanished in an instant.
“…Told you I’m a Sky Squirrel.”
Tae-yi’s stubborn insistence on disregarding species boundaries was baffling, but in that moment, Haram didn’t care. Rubbing his forehead against Tae-yi’s neck, Haram suddenly twitched his nose.
Dust. That musty scent that always clung to him after coming back from the shed where farm tools were kept—it was on Tae-yi. What kind of meeting could he have gone to that left him smelling like something so unlike himself?
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.”
Startled, Haram quickly shook his head and looked up. Tae-yi stared at him for a beat, then handed over the shopping bag he’d brought.
“What’s that?”
Haram looked down at where Tae-yi was pointing as he pulled out his clothes from the bag.
“Suppressants… I’m supposed to take one a day if I go into Heat.”
He pulled the small white bottle from the prescription bag and turned it in his hands. When Tae-yi didn’t say anything, Haram hesitated. Should he explain what he learned at the hospital?
“So, a Heat Cycle is… um… I might not get it, but…”
As he began to explain hesitantly, Tae-yi gently stroked his cheek and cut in.
“I know. You don’t need to explain. Just tell me if anything happens to your body.”
His calm demeanor reassured Haram, whose anxiety had started to return. From the very beginning, Tae-yi had never changed. Even though Haram couldn’t fully humanize and had now manifested as an Omega—an incredibly rare occurrence among Beastfolk—Tae-yi treated him the same as always. Never surprised. Never weirded out. Just steady.
Without a word, Haram wrapped his arms tightly around Tae-yi’s neck. Tae-yi embraced him in return, holding his back close.
“What did you two talk about?”
Though Chief Yoon had sent him a detailed update by text, most of it had been guesses—the actual dialogue was lost thanks to Haram’s squeaky speech. Tae-yi had been dying to know what really went down with Da In-ho.
“We ate mixed nuts at the café. Da In-ho bought them. I said next time it’s my treat. Oh, and money… I’ll go get some from the house back home. And my phone, too.”
“You could’ve just asked me.”
“I’ve already taken so much from you…”
Haram murmured as his ears drooped slightly at Tae-yi’s nonchalant response about money. Watching his little squirrel look all downcast, Tae-yi smirked and teased:
“Then pay me back with peanuts.”
Haram chuckled, then giggled some more. Tae-yi smiled and stroked his thin back.
“Maybe I’ll sell them at a higher price this year.”
Haram swayed his silvery-gray tail and replied.
“How much?”
“Hmm… maybe five hundred won more? Prices have gone up, so I’m thinking of raising mine by just five hundred.”
Tae-yi almost wanted to laugh—only five hundred won? But seeing Haram’s dead-serious face as he pondered it, he held back.
Then the reality hit him.
Haram’s peanut field.
There was no peanut harvest left—whether he raised the price by five hundred or five thousand won, there was nothing to sell.
There was no question about priorities. This needed to be fixed first. Revenge against Chairman Kang Tae-jin could wait, but the peanuts couldn’t. He couldn’t keep Da Haram stuck in Seoul forever. And it wasn’t like he could lock him up like some debtor either.
Suppressing a sigh, Tae-yi kissed Haram briefly on the cheek. Haram responded in kind, pressing a kiss to Tae-yi’s cheek in return.
***
“Should I make you something else?”
Haram gave a sheepish smile and shook his head at the gentle question. The abalone porridge Tae-yi had prepared for breakfast didn’t suit Haram’s tastes—he’d never really eaten seafood before.
He’d always thought of himself as someone who’d eat anything, but in truth, he’d only ever eaten what he knew. Even at his age, there were still so many things he’d never experienced. Not just food, but everything else too.
He’d never regretted his life farming in a small countryside village. But the more time he spent with Tae-yi, the more he felt… inadequate.
Haram stole a glance at Tae-yi with a subdued expression. He’d said he had an appointment and would be stepping out briefly, but he’d returned dressed in a sharp suit. He looked incredible—so much so Haram couldn’t take his eyes off him.
It was a far cry from the Tae-yi who used to wear tracksuits while heading out to the fields with him. Haram wanted to become someone who looked good standing next to him.
At the very least, he didn’t want to come off as a clueless country bumpkin.
