Da Haram clutched the peanuts in his arms more tightly than before, treasuring them now that he understood their value. I’ll have to repay Tae-yi for these too. Only after repaying him for everything he’d received would he feel any sense of relief.
“Jjae, jjaek?”
Do you know how much these cost?
Da Haram held up the peanuts to Da In-ho and asked.
“Hmm… Should I look it up?”
“Jji, jjaek.”
Here’s my phone.
Just as Haram padded over and pointed at the phone on the table with his front paw, it suddenly began to vibrate noisily. Startled, Haram blinked his big round eyes and quickly pressed the screen with his paw.
“Jjaek?”
Hello?
—Da Haram?
Of course. The caller was exactly who he expected. Haram leaned in toward the phone and focused on Tae-yi’s voice.
“Jjik?”
What?
—…Da Haram?
“Jjae-aek?”
Can’t hear me?
I hear you just fine… Growing frustrated with Tae-yi repeating his name over and over, Haram leaned toward the microphone and cried out as loud as he could. Da In-ho, who had been quietly observing, helped by turning up the call volume.
“Jjaek?”
Can you hear me?
But Tae-yi remained silent. Just as Haram pressed his face up against the phone screen and started chirping nonstop, Tae-yi spoke in a low voice.
—…You’re a squirrel right now.
“……!”
The realization hit Haram like a bolt of lightning, and a wave of shame surged through him. He began frantically tapping the phone screen with both paws, looking like he was playing the drums.
“Ah…”
Da In-ho finally understood and just blinked with his mouth slightly agape. Confirming that the call had ended, Haram bolted toward the edge of the table and launched himself into the air.
He landed in the middle of the living room and darted up the stairs without stopping.
So embarrassing!
With each step he climbed, he practically stomped in mortification. After sprinting down the hallway and bursting into his room, Haram quickly de-transformed.
“Haa…”
He rubbed his flushed cheeks and hurried to get dressed, letting out a long sigh. He’d been talking with Da In-ho the entire time and just assumed Tae-yi would understand him too. He could already picture Tae-yi laughing at him. Great, I handed him more material to tease me with. He hadn’t even fully forgiven him yet and had wanted to keep some distance—but now he’d completely lost face.
As Haram sighed again, Da In-ho came to mind. He was still downstairs, alone. Haram resisted the urge to crawl under the blankets and reluctantly started moving his feet.
“Ah, he called back while you were upstairs. He said he’ll call again soon…”
Da In-ho handed the phone back to Haram as if he’d been waiting to. Embarrassed, Haram took it, and sure enough, Tae-yi called the moment it touched his hand. His expression screamed that he’d rather do anything but take this call, but he still answered in a voice barely above a whisper.
“…Hello.”
—Where’s the squirrel?
“…Don’t tease me.”
Right on cue. Tae-yi’s voice was brimming with mischief, and Haram’s ears instantly burned again.
—Have you eaten?
“Yeah… Don’t worry about it. I’ll pay you back for today’s meal too.”
Tae-yi went silent for a moment at Haram’s even-toned reply, then spoke again.
—That’s kind of sad to hear. I told you to use me.
“…Do I look like you?”
Haram replied with a bit of a pout, and Tae-yi fell awkwardly silent, as if he didn’t know what to say.
—I ate, by the way.
“G-good for you…”
—Let’s have dinner together.
Just as Haram opened his mouth to say no, the call ended abruptly. He really just says whatever he wants and hangs up. Unreal.
Grumbling, Haram put the phone in the corner of the table. He wasn’t planning to answer again anytime soon. Tae-yi had pleaded with him that it wasn’t safe to be alone in the countryside, which was the only reason he agreed to stay temporarily. It wasn’t like he wanted to be here.
“Still in the middle of a lover’s quarrel, I see.”
Da In-ho murmured from nearby, prompting Haram to whip his head around and reply immediately.
“It’s just a fight! I don’t love him anymore!”
Seeing Haram deny it so forcefully, Da In-ho chuckled and nodded casually. Blushing even redder, Haram insisted again that it wasn’t like that.
“So, are you planning to stay in Seoul?”
“That’s… not exactly… I’m not staying long.”
The truth was, even Haram didn’t know how long he’d be here. When will it actually be safe again? He had no idea how long Tae-yi’s supposed ‘solution’ would take. He’d have to talk to him more about it today.
“Aren’t you going to consult with Professor Yoon?”
Da In-ho’s question made Haram pause and think. He’d already gone through a heat cycle—he wasn’t any different from other Omegas now. He wasn’t curious about his designation anymore. There didn’t seem to be a point in going through counseling.
“I don’t think I’m curious enough to bother seeing him.”
It felt wrong to take up the professor’s time without a real reason. Come to think of it, it had been Tae-yi who introduced him to Professor Yoon in the first place. Tae-yi had done so much for him, and Haram had just taken it all for granted. He had no shame. No awareness.
With a small sigh, Haram thought about his bank balance. This year’s peanut crop was a complete failure—far worse than previous years when raccoons or birds ruined his field. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say everything had been wiped out.
He used to earn just enough in one season to survive until the next, but now he was going to be stuck twiddling his thumbs. Who am I even supposed to charge for this? Could I even get compensation? Just thinking about the peanut field made his chest ache.
For now, I just have to root for Tae-yi. But this time, he’d be watching him with both eyes wide open. He wasn’t going to be fooled again like before. He wasn’t going to be the naïve Sky Squirrel who believed everything at face value.
Da In-ho quietly observed Haram, who looked dejected one moment, then suddenly steeled himself with fierce resolve the next, as if ready to take on the world. With a soft laugh, Da In-ho commented:
“You two must never get bored while dating.”
“W-we’re not dating! It’s over!”
Haram clenched his fists and shouted. Dating? If you could even call something that ended the moment it began a relationship—well, it technically was, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to preserve the last shred of his pride. He wanted to be the one to put the period on it.
Watching the flustered Haram puff up in frustration, Da In-ho laughed again and said sincerely:
“I hope things work out for you.”
***
From the very first day he joined the company, Tae-yi had never looked forward to getting off work as much as he did today. After forming a new team exclusively for overseas business, he’d spent the whole day in back-to-back meetings. Even amid the chaos, he had to suppress a rare desire to leave early.
It was overwhelming, but unlike before, he didn’t feel suffocated or anxious. Because at the end of the day, Da Haram would be waiting for him at home.
“Mr. Da In-ho has returned.”
Chief Yoon glanced at him through the rearview mirror as he spoke. Tae-yi nodded and turned his attention back to his tablet. Technically he was off work, but there was still a mountain of tasks left.
To him, Da In-ho was just a sneaky little rat who’d helped Da Haram escape. But he knew that to Haram, In-ho was like a friend—someone who could keep him company in the unfamiliar city of Seoul. Tae-yi didn’t love the idea of them spending time together, but it was better than leaving Haram alone in that big house with nothing but his thoughts.
As soon as the car entered the garage, Tae-yi tossed his tablet onto the passenger seat and quickly got out.
“Have a—good evening.”
Before Chief Yoon could even finish his sentence, the car door slammed shut. He watched his boss head toward the house without looking back and sighed, shaking his head in disbelief.
Seeing the lights on in the living room, Tae-yi began looking around for Haram. He expected him to be on the couch, but instead, he was in the kitchen, seated at the table and writing something with intense focus. Tae-yi smiled quietly at the way Haram’s lips stuck out like a little duck bill as he concentrated, then approached and spoke gently.
“Whatcha doing?”
“Ah… you’re back?”
Startled by Tae-yi’s voice, Haram greeted him awkwardly.
“What’s that?”
Sitting across from him, Tae-yi glanced at the sheet of paper densely filled with black ink. Curious, he asked again. Haram hesitated, then cautiously handed over the paper.
“…It’s a list. Of things I need to pay you back for.”
“Pay me back?”
Tae-yi quickly scanned the page. Lodging fees, meal costs, Designation Test fees, hospital bills, transportation—an endless list of pointless little things. There were no receipts.
“Did you borrow from a loan shark or something? Do I look like a debt collector?”
Tae-yi frowned deeply as he spoke. Sure, his family had run a loan business up until his grandfather’s generation, but he’d never once touched that side of things. And now here he was, being treated like a moneylender by Da Haram. He felt like pinching his cheek just to ground himself.
“I just… don’t want to be in debt to you. It makes me uncomfortable.”
Seeing how upset he looked, Haram rushed to explain. Tae-yi stared at him, noting the way his eyes drooped sadly, then picked up the pen that was lying on the table.
“Guess we’re the same. I hate owing people too.”
Without hesitation, Tae-yi flipped the paper over and started writing.
“What are you doing…?”
Caught off guard, Haram glanced at the paper and asked, but Tae-yi didn’t reply. Soon enough, he set the pen down with a light tap and handed the paper back to Haram. Flustered, Haram took it with dry lips and began to read from the top.
“…Life-saving debt? One… one billion won?!”
