* * *

Pyo Yoontae remembered everything, while Jeongseo had forgotten much.

This disparity felt like a metaphor for the gap between their feelings.

While Yoontae’s devotion was overwhelming, it also felt heavy, like a stone pressing down on Jeongseo’s chest.

“It’s nice that you think about me, but don’t feel burdened by it, Jeongseo,” Yoontae said, as if reading Jeongseo’s thoughts. His thumb gently stroked Jeongseo’s cheek.

“Take your time. Like me a little more, and when you feel it’s enough, tell me.”

His hand traced from Jeongseo’s cheek to his neck, then down his arm, until their fingers intertwined.

“Whenever that is, it’s fine.”

Yoontae’s steady voice was so reassuring, it felt as though he truly could wait forever.

Jeongseo repeated the words in his mind, as if they were a magic spell.

Slowly, the weight on his chest lifted, and he drifted into sleep.

When the mood light dimmed and the room grew dark, Jeongseo was already fast asleep.

Only the soft moonlight filtered through the curtains.

Yoontae, who had been lying still, opened his golden eyes.

He gazed at Jeongseo, sleeping peacefully beside him.

Even though he knew Jeongseo wouldn’t vanish, a lingering fear gnawed at him—memories of the Jeongseo who had disappeared so suddenly years ago.

After imprinting Jeongseo’s face into his mind, Yoontae closed his eyes.

Memories of a fateful day from childhood resurfaced.

That day, his grandmother had scolded him harshly.

Still starved for affection, young Yoontae had tried to carry a plate of fruit for the housekeeper but tripped on the threshold.

The plate shattered, sending shards flying.

One of the shards grazed his cousin Seola’s arm, leaving a deep scratch that bled profusely.

Her cries filled the air.

Startled, Yoontae had rushed to her, but his grandmother had intervened, shouting: “What are you doing? Stay out of sight! Do you do these things on purpose?”

Jeong Sunja, cradling a crying Pyo Seola in her arms, hurled a few more insults at Pyo Yoontae, calling him useless and a burden, before hastily heading to the hospital with her mother.

Left behind, Pyo Yoontae stood alone amidst broken plates and scattered fruit pieces in the house.

The young Pyo Yoontae stared blankly at the shattered plate before lowering his head.

Dark stains spread across the floor beneath him, but no one was there to comfort him.

Feeling like there was no place for him even in this now-empty house, Pyo Yoontae ran outside and headed for the mountain.

It took him 40 minutes at a child’s pace.

It wasn’t a day he had planned to meet the white rat, but he desperately hoped it would be there.

However, when he reached the tree where they usually met, no one was there.

Only the cold winter wind greeted him.

Not wanting to return just yet, Pyo Yoontae crouched beneath the tree, stifling his sobs.

“Why are you here? I can’t play today—I have to go down soon!”

At the familiar voice, Pyo Yoontae’s head shot up.

Unlike usual, the speaker was in human form.

White hair swayed gently, and small ears poked out above it.

Upon seeing Pyo Yoontae’s tear-streaked face, Jeongseo’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Why are you crying, kid? Did someone hurt you?”

The sight of Jeongseo fidgeting awkwardly, flustered by his tears, made Pyo Yoontae cry even harder.

Even as a child, he hadn’t cried like this often, but that day, he wailed as if the world were ending.

Panicking, Jeongseo glanced around before pulling Pyo Yoontae into a tight embrace with his small frame.

“Don’t cry. It’s sad when you cry.”

He patted Pyo Yoontae’s back, but the comfort only made him cry harder.

Though Jeongseo had no idea why Pyo Yoontae suddenly showed up crying, he tried to console him the way his grandmother used to do for him.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ll hold you tight until you feel better.”

Despite saying he had to leave soon, Jeongseo stayed until Pyo Yoontae’s tears subsided, holding and patting him gently.

Though smaller in size, the sense of safety Jeongseo gave Pyo Yoontae was larger than anything he had ever felt.

When the tear-swollen Pyo Yoontae looked up at Jeongseo, he burst into laughter.

“You look so funny!”

“…Don’t tease me.”

“But I’m glad you’re not crying anymore! If someone bothers you again, come to me—I’ll teach them a lesson!”

“…You?”

When Pyo Yoontae replied skeptically, Jeongseo sprang to his feet and clenched his fists dramatically.

“I’m super strong!”

Though he didn’t look strong at all, Pyo Yoontae felt oddly reassured. Eventually, he laughed.

Afterward, Jeongseo said he really had to go, and Pyo Yoontae, feeling much better, returned home.

Fortunately, no one else had come back yet.

Not wanting anyone to notice he had been crying, Pyo Yoontae pressed cold ice against his swollen eyes and fell asleep.

When Han Jaehee returned late from the hospital and saw the still-wet stains on the pillow beside him, she tried to comfort Pyo Yoontae, but it was too late.

“I’m sorry, Yoontae. I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t pay attention to you. Are you hurt? Were you scared?”

Her warm embrace was comforting, but it didn’t thaw the coldness in his heart.

With an indifferent expression, Pyo Yoontae gently pushed her away.

“I’m fine.”

After all, this wasn’t his sanctuary.

His only safe haven was that mountain where the white rat lived.

---

Jeongseo’s eyes snapped open.

The first thing he saw was the massive figure of Pyo Yoontae staring at him with a twitching smirk.

Startled, he tried to leap up, but unlike in his human form, he felt short legs and soft, fluffy white fur.

Squeak!

What?

He had accidentally transformed into his true form again.

Back in first grade, he had never shown his real form to anyone outside his family, but this year, it kept happening for some reason.

Deciding he needed to get dressed, Jeongseo grabbed the long-sleeved shirt he had slept in and tried to drag it off the bed.

However, Pyo Yoontae reached out and picked up the white weasel-like Jeongseo with both hands.

“Stay like this for a bit longer, Jeongseo.”

Holding him gently but firmly, Pyo Yoontae examined the little creature, smiling uncontrollably.

Jeongseo struggled to escape, but his short limbs were no match.

Squeak, squeak!

‘Let me go! What are you doing?!’

The more Jeongseo wriggled, the more his long, slender body flailed in the air like an eel.

Pyo Yoontae thought he looked a bit like a freshly caught eel.

As a child, Jeongseo had seemed small and mouse-like, but now he was clearly not.

Still, his appearance was close enough to a rat that it might be mistaken at a glance.

Pyo Yoontae toyed with the idea of putting him in his mouth but quickly decided against it, knowing Jeongseo would throw a fit. Instead, he carefully cradled the weasel against his chest and stood up.

“Jeongseo, do you know something?”

Jeongseo, desperate to return to human form, bit at Pyo Yoontae’s shirt to signal his objection, but the latter ignored him.

When Jeongseo finally gave up, exhausted, Pyo Yoontae walked to the window.

“Look outside.”

Annoyed but curious, Jeongseo reluctantly glanced beyond the window.

His fur bristled instantly.

The world outside had turned pure white, with snow falling in fluffy clumps.

It was the first snow of the season.

Jeongseo stretched his tiny paws toward the window, clearly wanting to get closer.

Pyo Yoontae, understanding, brought him to the glass.

Two small paw prints appeared on the frosty window as Jeongseo pressed against it, his breath fogging and clearing the surface in a rhythmic pattern.

Holding the little white weasel in his arms, Pyo Yoontae felt an overwhelming happiness.

The two spent a long time watching the snow until Han Jaehee’s voice called from outside, snapping them back to reality.

After Jeongseo managed to transform back into human form, the two went to the living room, where Han Jaehee greeted them warmly.

“You’re awake! Time for breakfast. I’m not the best cook, but I tried my best since Yoontae’s friend is here.”

Jeongseo’s eyes wavered as he looked at the table in front of her.

* * *