Even a Lonely Squirrel Has Its Burrow - Chapter 1

Rustle!

A tiny squirrel, no bigger than a palm, darted quickly through the fallen leaves. Its pink, grain-sized nose twitched incessantly as if searching for something.

‘It should be around here somewhere….’

Garam stopped in his tracks and stretched his body. Scanning his surroundings with sharp eyes, he spotted an acorn hidden beneath some leaves in the distance.

‘There it is, the acorn!’

The little squirrel’s eyes sparkled as it sniffed the air and sprinted toward the acorn. The sound of rustling leaves under his tiny feet was one of Garam’s favorite sounds.

Fortunately, there were no other animals eyeing the acorn nearby. Safely picking it up, Garam examined it closely. It seemed to have fallen only recently, as its smooth shell was flawless and pristine.

With a delighted heart, Garam tucked the acorn into his cheek. After scanning his surroundings once more, he darted back into the bushes.

—

Kang Garam. Age twenty-one.

Garam was an ordinary boy for his age. The only unique thing about him was that he was a shifter—a rare squirrel shifter, at that.

However, Garam’s life was anything but ordinary. It all began with the death of his parents.

When Garam was nine years old, his parents died in a car accident. While Garam cried until he couldn’t breathe, the adults around him exchanged words he couldn’t fully understand. But one thing was clear: he would never see his mom and dad again.

Up until then, Garam had lived as the cherished son of his parents. But the moment they passed away, he started watching the adults’ every move. It was the only way he could survive. His first lesson in observation came right after his parents’ funeral, when his relatives discussed who would take him in.

“Well, our house is a bit… as you know, our child is a carnivore shifter, and Garam is a squirrel….”

“It’s not like they’re real wolves, just wolf shifters! If that’s a problem, then what about our house? Our kid’s a cat shifter, so it’s just as risky!”

“Our kids are about the same size as Garam, but… you all know we already have four kids. Taking in another would be difficult.”

Garam sat curled up in a corner, his head buried between his knees. The adults, fully aware of his presence, raised their voices in heated debate. None of them noticed the child’s small shoulders trembling.

Fortunately, there was at least one adult who cared about Garam.

“Enough!”

A booming voice echoed through the room. Startled, Garam lifted his head.

“What are you doing, arguing over a child? Are you even adults? Since none of you seem fit to take him in, I’ll take the boy!”

The woman who spoke was a stranger to Garam, but the other adults clearly knew who she was. They immediately lowered their heads, mumbling excuses.

“Aunt….”

“It’s not like that….”

Before they could explain further, her stern voice cut them off.

“Not like that? I could hear your bickering about whether or not to take the boy all the way outside! There’s no way I’m leaving him with any of you.”

The adults, unable to refute her, fell silent. Yet there was a faint look of relief on their faces, one even a child like Garam could notice. His heart ached as if pricked by needles.

Just then, a gentle voice reached him.

“Child, come here.”

Looking up, Garam saw the woman who had been scolding the adults now speaking softly to him. Her voice was so kind that he found himself slowly walking toward her, almost entranced.

“What’s your name?”

As Garam approached, she crouched down to meet his gaze and gently took his small hand in hers. Her whispered question fell lightly on his ears, but Garam only moved his lips without answering. This voice reminded him of his late parents—the only ones who had ever spoken to him so kindly.

If the adults’ harsh words had left deep wounds in his heart, this gentle question seemed to settle softly, soothing his pain.

It was a simple question, yet Garam couldn’t answer right away. Holding back tears, his lips quivered, and his small body shook slightly. Sensing his fear, the woman carefully pulled him into a hug, softly patting his back without pressuring him to answer.

“Garam… Kang Garam….”

Eventually, a faint, tearful voice escaped his lips. Hearing his name, the woman gently pulled away and looked into his eyes again.

“What a beautiful name. It suits you well.”

“…Hic.”

“If you’re okay with it, I’d like to take you with me. Will you come with me?”

It felt like opening his mouth would unleash a torrent of tears. Sniffling, Garam barely managed to nod. Then, he reached out and wrapped his arms around the woman’s neck.

“There, there.”

The woman hesitated briefly at his sudden action but soon smiled and patted his back. After Garam had calmed down a bit, she carefully packed his belongings and held out her hand to him, who was quietly standing at the entrance.

“Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, Garam took the hand extended toward him. That was how Garam met his grandmother for the first time.

—

The person who took Garam in was his father’s grandaunt. Introducing herself as the youngest sibling of Garam’s late grandfather, she kindly told the hesitant boy to call her grandmother. Though she seemed quite young to be called that, Garam found it easy to start addressing her as such.

Grandmother became a whole new world for Garam. A tiger shifter, she had been living alone ever since her only child had left home. She cared for Garam as if he were her own grandson. Fortunately, her financial situation was stable, allowing Garam to continue living without any lack.

Garam was a squirrel shifter. Small rodent shifters like him were often stereotyped as timid, but Garam grew up confident, just as his tiger grandmother had taught him. She always told him not to be intimidated by larger carnivore shifters just because of his small animal form. After all, that was just one aspect of him, and it didn’t mean he was weak.

As she’d said, Garam grew up to be a confident and carefree boy. Because of this, he was always surrounded by people. While his confident demeanor played a role, his appearance also caught people’s attention.

Garam had dark brown hair with streaks of black running through it, which stood out on its own. Coupled with his sharp, handsome features, he naturally drew people’s gazes.

His light brown eyes would glimmer beneath slightly upturned lashes whenever he smiled, and his bright, expressive mouth gave him a refreshing charm. Thanks to his good looks, he received plenty of confessions. However, Garam would always turn them down with an awkward smile, looking a bit troubled.

Garam wasn’t particularly interested in dating. Whenever his grandmother heard about someone confessing to him, she would laugh heartily and pat his back. But when Garam inevitably told her that he had turned them down, she would look at him as if puzzled.

She often said she hoped Garam, who had lost his parents early, would someday create his own family and live a stable life. But whenever she said this, Garam would only give her a vague smile.

When she asked if he disliked the idea of starting a family, Garam hesitated briefly before honestly admitting:

“I just… I like living with you, Grandma. I’m not sure about becoming family with someone else.”

It was a mix of truth and a little lie. There were feelings he couldn’t express for fear of hurting her. However, Grandma, though aware that Garam was holding something back, never pried.

She would simply look at him with concern, then smile and stroke his head. Sometimes, she’d tell him that he had to help her live long enough so he wouldn’t feel lonely.

But in the end, that promise wasn’t kept.

—

For autumn, the weather was bitterly cold. The torrential rain that had started in the early morning made it feel even gloomier. Perhaps because the rain hadn’t been forecasted, some of the mourners entering the funeral hall grumbled. Among them, a few glanced at Garam standing in the rain.

Garam stood there, drenched, without an umbrella, letting the rain soak him completely. His body shivered as his temperature dropped, but he didn’t even notice.

“Grandma….”

The words escaped his pale lips as a faint whisper. The rain continued to pour relentlessly, as if the heavens knew Garam’s world had collapsed.

Grandma had always disliked rainy days. If she were still alive, she would’ve clicked her tongue and muttered about how heavy the rain was.

But he would never hear that again. The grandmother who had become Garam’s new world passed away in the autumn of his nineteenth year.