Even a Lonely Squirrel Has Its Burrow - Chapter 2

Episode 2

It was a sudden car accident. Once again, farewell came in an unforeseen moment.

Though it wasn’t Garam’s first experience with loss, the pain it brought never got any easier to endure.

In fact, the anguish he had previously felt seemed to cut deeper, tearing into his heart with sharper edges than before. The emotional pain was far greater than the cold that made his body tremble as he stood in the rain.

After standing still in the downpour for a long time, Garam finally noticed how violently his body was shivering and let out a small gasp.

It didn’t matter what happened to him, but his grandmother’s funeral was still ongoing. He needed to stay composed, especially with that man present in the funeral hall. Only then could he finally force his heavy body to move.

Rainwater dripped steadily from him, but Garam paid it no mind. As he stepped into the building, soaked to the skin, people glanced at him momentarily before their attention drifted away. Immersed in their own grief, no one found another person’s sorrow particularly remarkable.

As soon as Garam entered the mourning room, a mocking voice flew his way.

“What’s this? Some kind of protest?”

“…”

Garam bit his lip and shook his head. The warmth of the indoors finally reached his rain-drenched body, and belatedly, his shivering intensified. His teeth chattered audibly as his entire body trembled from the cold.

The other man, however, ignored Garam’s obvious discomfort and continued prodding his shoulder with a finger, his mocking tone relentless.

“Don’t lie. Hey, just sit still and behave. Because Mom decided to pick up some stray like you, there are more people who think of you as her child than me.”

The man, speaking in a careless drawl, kept jabbing at Garam, but when no reaction came, he quickly lost interest.

“Forget it. What’s anyone supposed to do with a measly squirrel runt like you anyway?”

Garam’s grandmother had always told him not to let being a squirrel shifter make him feel inferior. But this man belittled him purely for that reason.

“Tch, why did Mom even bring home something like you… All it did was complicate things.”

The man’s eyes, full of dissatisfaction, scanned Garam from head to toe before he clicked his tongue and disappeared inside. Soon after, he sat down and started drinking.

Many people who had received help from Garam’s grandmother came to pay their respects, but upon seeing the unruly man, they would click their tongues, give Garam a sympathetic look, and quickly leave.

The man’s name was Ryu Beomju. Although he was Garam’s grandmother’s son and also a tiger shifter like her, he had nothing in common with her. Whenever the grandmother spoke of him, her expression was always tinged with sorrow.

“They say a tiger gives birth to a tiger, but I didn’t give birth to a tiger. I gave birth to something not even as good as a cat.”

Her words, spoken in regret, carried a weight of countless emotions. Despite her frustration, she worried about him more than anyone else. However, Beomju never acknowledged her feelings. Now, he sat at the head of the mourning hall, grumbling and drowning himself in alcohol.

Although Garam had been his grandmother’s ward, they weren’t related by blood. Thus, Garam had no legal authority to handle her funeral arrangements. In the end, he had no choice but to contact Beomju. When informed of his mother’s death, Beomju didn’t shed a tear—he merely clicked his tongue in annoyance.

Throughout the funeral, he spent his time drunk, more preoccupied with the alcohol in front of him than mourning his mother’s death.

Watching this, Garam quietly turned his gaze to the portrait of his grandmother, smiling brightly. Because her passing had been so sudden, they had chosen her favorite photo, one that Garam had taken of her himself. The funeral would end tomorrow. It was time to say a final goodbye to his grandmother.

He wasn’t ready to accept her absence, yet the moment of farewell loomed closer, threatening to steal away his second world entirely, leaving no trace behind.

—

Clutching the urn tightly, Garam returned home. Weeds had already sprouted in the garden his grandmother had so lovingly tended. While Garam’s world seemed to have frozen in the moment of her passing, time moved forward on its own, leaving him behind.

Biting his lip, Garam stepped inside. The house, left empty for days, was filled with a cold stillness. The warmth that had always made the place feel so cozy was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar emptiness.

Garam held the still-warm urn even tighter and placed it on the table in the living room. His grandmother had always loved sitting there, overseeing the entire house. It seemed the most fitting spot.

“Ugh, stop being so dramatic.”

But Beomju, who had followed him, clicked his tongue in disapproval. With a swaggering gait, he stepped inside.

“Nothing’s changed here.”

Looking around lazily, he muttered under his breath, then pulled off his tie and stuffed it carelessly into his jacket pocket. Plopping down heavily in the seat his mother used to favor, Beomju pointed his chin toward a distant spot.

“Sit down.”

“…Why?”

Garam didn’t want to exchange a single word with Ryu Beomju. Just seeing that man sitting in his grandmother’s seat made something inside him surge with anger. Moreover, considering the man’s indifferent attitude throughout the funeral, Garam couldn’t imagine having a normal conversation with him.

“Why, you ask? Where did a brat like you learn to talk back? Sit down!”

But Ryu Beomju shouted angrily, his voice booming. Only then did Garam sit down in the farthest corner. Not because he was afraid of Ryu Beomju, but because he wanted the conversation to end quickly so he could get the man out of the house.

“…What do you want?”

Garam asked as politely as possible. His voice came out curt, but that was the most courtesy he could muster for the man. Ryu Beomju chuckled as if Garam’s attitude was amusing and spoke in a lazy tone.

“Do you have anywhere to go now?”

“Anywhere to go?”

When Garam asked back, Ryu Beomju let out a derisive laugh, as if he had expected that response, and continued.

“You’re still such a clueless brat. What, did you think this house was yours or something?”

The words hit Garam like a splash of cold water, snapping him to his senses.

Of course. This was his grandmother’s house, and now that she was gone, the new owner would be the man in front of him. Garam’s pupils trembled slightly as the realization set in. He tried to act indifferent, but Ryu Beomju had already noticed his reaction. With a smirk, he stared at Garam as if waiting to see what he would do.

“…I’ll pack my things and leave soon.”

“Oh? And do you even have somewhere to go?”

“That….”

Of course, he had nowhere to go. But the best solution Garam could think of was to pack up and leave.

The house was filled with memories of his grandmother, but begging this man for mercy wouldn’t lead anywhere. Ryu Beomju, knowing full well that Garam had nowhere to go, pressed on. When Garam faltered, the man leaned back in his chair, resting an arm on the backrest as he spoke casually.

“Well, I guess I could do a good deed for a pathetic kid like you and hand over this house.”

“…What?”

Garam was stunned into silence, unable to say anything more. Ryu Beomju chuckled and repeated himself, as if amused by Garam’s reaction.

“You’ve got nowhere to go anyway, right? This house wouldn’t even sell for much. What, maybe a billion won at best? This rundown place is useless to me. And that kind of money? Doesn’t make a difference to me either. So yeah, I’ll give it to you. Think of it as charity for a beggar.”

Ryu Beomju deliberately chose insulting words, as if trying to provoke Garam, but they didn’t hurt him at all.

If he could keep the house—the place filled with memories of his grandmother, touched by her hand in every corner—Garam was willing to do anything. Even if Ryu Beomju demanded he crawl on the floor like a dog, he would have done it without hesitation. But the man was offering the house without attaching any conditions.

His grandmother had always worried about Ryu Beomju. Yet here he was, saying ten billion won was insignificant and offering to give away the house. Garam, who had subconsciously thought of him as a broke thug, widened his eyes in surprise.

“…Really?”

“What, have you been fooled your whole life?”

When Garam asked again, still unable to believe it, Ryu Beomju clicked his tongue in irritation but nodded. Garam’s face instantly brightened.

“Th-thank you….”

Standing up abruptly, Garam bowed deeply, and Ryu Beomju smirked in satisfaction.

“I’ll send a lawyer in a few days. All you have to do is sign the papers. The lawyer will take care of the rest, so you don’t need to worry about anything.”

“Y-yes!”

Ryu Beomju waved dismissively at Garam’s gratitude and stood up, signaling that the conversation was over. The sound of the front door closing echoed, and Garam sank slowly onto the sofa.

It still felt unbelievable. But one thing was clear.

Garam gently stroked the sofa. The texture under his fingers felt vivid. The memories of his grandmother and him were still here.

He had saved the house.