* * *
Click.
“Thank you so much.”
Saewoo bowed deeply after stepping out of Junwoo’s car.
He had initially refused the ride home, insisting he didn’t want to be a bother.
But Junwoo had been firm, saying he couldn’t just let a patient go off alone, so Saewoo had no choice but to accept.
“It’s nothing. Besides, your place happens to be on the way to my clinic. No need to feel burdened. By the way, you didn’t even get to see Yoon Jibeom’s face. You sure you’re okay?”
“Ah… yeah, I’m fine.”
Junwoo had told him over the phone earlier that Jibeom was too busy to come right away.
Saewoo had acted like it didn’t bother him, but in truth, he had wanted to see him—even just for a moment—to apologize for what had happened yesterday.
It was a little disappointing.
“Alright then, get home safe. Oh, and if you ever have time, feel free to stop by our clinic. We’ve got plenty of great herbal medicine. We don’t just treat predators—we take in regular beastfolk too.”
Junwoo rolled down the window and handed him a business card from his jacket pocket.
Saewoo glanced at the address.
It was in the complete opposite direction of his house.
“Ah… yeah, I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again.”
Holding onto the card, he watched Junwoo’s car disappear into the distance before letting out a deep sigh.
“Just yesterday at this time…”
Maybe because he had returned to the same place at the same hour, it felt like an entire day had been cut out of his life.
Like he had skipped a scene in his own story.
His headache was completely gone, but now, an overwhelming sense of emptiness weighed him down.
“Busy…?”
He had heard Junwoo’s explanation, but somehow, it didn’t feel convincing.
Saewoo hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone to send a message—only to stop when he saw an unread text from Jibeom.
[Quit wandering around and go straight home. Lock the door.]
-Ji(=｀ᾥ´=)beom-
“Wandering around…?”
Saewoo frowned at the odd phrasing and glanced around.
Was Jibeom… watching him right now?
But no matter where he looked, there was no sign of him.
The only thing moving on this dreary, overcast evening was the wind and the scattered trash on the street—along with Saewoo himself.
“Hah… whatever. I should just go home and rest.”
Deciding he needed to get his energy back before dealing with Jibeom or worrying about his… condition, Saewoo headed toward his apartment building.
Click.
That was when—
“E-excuse me….”
“!?”
A voice called out to him from behind.
Saewoo spun around in shock. He hadn’t sensed anyone nearby just moments ago.
Peeking out from behind a wall was a small child—probably around six or seven years old—with snowy white hair and a face straight out of an animated movie.
The kid was staring up at him with wide, blinking eyes.
“A-Ah…! You’re a kid… W-what is it? Did you get lost?”
Caught off guard, Saewoo glanced around.
But instead of answering, the child just blinked and kept staring at him with a blank expression.
‘For some reason… he looks familiar.’
The white hair and those sparkling eyes immediately reminded him of Hoyoon.
But the scent was completely different.
He wasn’t as intimidating as Hoyoon, either.
His scent was closer to that of a weasel beastfolk.
“Are you alone? Do you live nearby?”
Lowering himself to eye level so he wouldn’t scare the kid, Saewoo gently asked again.
“…….”
But despite being the one who had called out first, the child now seemed shy.
His tiny lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.
Could it be that he had some sort of condition, like Minho, the rare-toothed beastfolk who had no teeth?
Saewoo suddenly felt hesitant to press him.
Then—
“Th-this….”
The child reached into his jacket pocket and pulled something out.
“Ah, that’s….”
Saewoo’s eyes widened.
It was that ridiculous rental business flyer that had caused such a commotion a few days ago.
“Haha… don’t tell me you came here because of that? Um, the thing is, I didn’t actually make that, so…”
Not knowing how to explain, Saewoo trailed off awkwardly.
The child’s face scrunched up in dissatisfaction.
“Is… is this… ugly?”
“Huh?”
For a moment, Saewoo thought he had misheard.
“Is it ugly?”
“What did you just say—”
“Is it ugly?”
“W-wait, what—”
“IS IT UGLY?!”
“Ahhh!”
Saewoo flinched as the kid suddenly raised his voice in frustration.
His small hands grabbed onto Saewoo’s shoulders, his grip surprisingly firm, as if he wouldn’t let go until he got an answer.
“W-why all of a sudden…? D-did you… make this…?”
Trying to calm him down, Saewoo stammered out a response.
But the cute-looking child’s face was now terrifyingly intense—like a demon.
“Tch, damn it!”
The kid suddenly clenched his fist.
“IS IT UGLY OR NOT?! ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHING?! TALK, YOU BIRD-BRAINED IDIOT!”
“Eek…!”
POOF—!
Terrified by the sudden aggression, Saewoo instinctively transformed into a sparrow.
When faced with violence, bird beastfolk often reverted to their animal forms as a flight response.
“Piiit…!”
“Where do you think you’re going?!”
“……!”
POOF—!
Seeing the sparrow flap its wings, trying to take flight, the child scoffed and transformed into an animal.
Emerging from the thick mist was none other than a white-furred weasel.
Whoosh, thud…!
“Pip-piiit?!”
Before the startled sparrow could even fly far, the weasel swung its front paw.
With a single swift motion, the sparrow was snatched out of the air and sent plummeting to the ground.
With a sharp cry, the sparrow writhed in pain as the weasel pressed one of its wings down with its paw, wearing a triumphant expression.
“Pii, piihiiii…!”
(D-Don’t do this…!)
Saewoo cried out, tormented by the searing pain radiating from his wing bone.
He had no idea what was so important about that flyer or why he was being attacked over it.
“Kyak! Kyak! Kyaaaak!”
(I asked you a question! Why didn’t you answer me?!)
The weasel, clearly furious, puffed up its chest and pointed at the flyer lying nearby, screeching in frustration.
“Kyak! Kyak, kyaak! Kyaaa—!”
(I made this! I spent two whole nights working on it! And you said it was trash, didn’t you?!)
“Piiit! Pi, piit…!”
(Th-This is the first time I’m hearing about this…!)
Saewoo blinked wide-eyed, looking completely clueless.
Not only did he have no idea that the weasel was the one who made the flyer, but he also never called it trash.
If anyone had said that, it was probably Jibeom—but his memory was fuzzy.
“Pi, pihiiit! Piit! Piii…!”
(P-Please calm down…! It’s a misunderstanding! A huge misunderstanding…!)
Desperately, he tried to defuse the child’s anger, but the weasel had no intention of listening.
Instead, it exploded with even deeper rage, unleashing a tantrum.
“Kyakyak! Krkyak, kyaak…!”
(Yeah, right! You should’ve listened when I was being nice—!)
Smack!
“Kuh-urk!”
At that moment, with a heavy, resounding thud, the weasel was sent flying far away.
The crushing weight pressing down on Saewoo vanished, and he trembled as he carefully folded his injured wing.
“Pi… pii…?”
(W-What… just happened?)
Still dazed, he tried to make sense of the situation when a large shadow loomed over him.
His vision, blurred by tears, prevented him from seeing who it was, filling him with fear all over again.
“Hah.”
With a short sigh, a hand reached down and lightly lifted the trembling sparrow.
“You just never listen, do you? My little sparrow.”
“……!”
It was Jibeom.
Saewoo blinked several times, letting the tears welling in his eyes spill over.
Finally, a familiar face appeared before him.
Jibeom’s neatly combed hair had come loose, likely from rushing over, and he wore a deeply irritated expression.
“I told you to stop wandering around and go home. Haa… What a mess.”
“Pi… piiii… ”
(I was… b-busy…)
“Yeah, I bet. That’s why I sprinted here like a madman. Thought some weirdos might mess with you.”
Jibeom shot a sharp glare at the weasel, who was now scurrying away with its tail between its legs.
“Should I make a weasel scarf for you?”
“Hik! Pi… piit…!”
(Hik! P-Please no…!)
“Fine, I’ll let it go.”
With a slow, steady pace, Jibeom gathered up Saewoo’s clothes and walked toward the entrance of the building.
He punched in the door code, and as he asked Saewoo for the numbers, fresh tears welled up and streamed down the sparrow’s cheeks.
“Why are you crying?”
“Pi… pihihi… hic, hiii…”
(I-I’m not… I just… got scared… hic, hiii…)
As the trembling ball of feathers sobbed pitifully, Jibeom let out a deep sigh and gently rubbed the damp corners of Saewoo’s eyes with his thumb.
“Piii…”
Maybe it was because feline beastmen tended to have high body temperatures.
The warmth of Jibeom’s touch felt so comforting that Saewoo instinctively nuzzled against his fingers.
Before he realized it, he had completely relaxed, nestling into Jibeom’s palm like a plump, overcooked dumpling.
Watching the little sparrow curl up like a tiny nest in his hand, Jibeom had to resist the urge to bite down on him.
* * *
