Even a Lonely Squirrel Has Its Burrow - Chapter 60

Chapter 60

So Garam couldn’t help but see the wound he had left on his hand flash before his eyes repeatedly.

On one hand, Garam worried deeply about the injury he had caused, but on the other, he felt disheartened at the thought that Sa Muheon might think of that wound as completely meaningless.

As Garam’s thoughts grew deeper, a sudden knock startled him, making him flinch and jump slightly. His gaze turned toward the slightly ajar door.

—

The documents Jang Seokgyu had brought required Sa Muheon’s immediate review. As Sa Muheon went through them one by one, he couldn’t stop glancing toward his bedroom. Eventually, Jang Seokgyu, noticing Sa Muheon’s restless gaze, spoke first.

“Are you worried that little thing might run away?”

“…No.”

Sa Muheon lied with a calm expression. Then, to avoid further suspicion, he forced himself to fix his gaze on the documents in his hand. Thanks to that, he quickly finished his review and handed them back to Jang Seokgyu, separating what to proceed with and what not to.

Jang Seokgyu double-checked the documents and placed them in his briefcase. Then, he stared intently at Sa Muheon, who had risen from his seat to see him out.

Annoyed by the silent gaze, Sa Muheon furrowed his brow.

“What?”

His tone carried a hint of irritation, but Jang Seokgyu, unflinching, spoke up.

“I was wondering if something happened.”

“What could possibly have happened?”

Sa Muheon’s reply was mixed with irritation but had softened slightly. Even so, Jang Seokgyu continued to stare at him. In the end, Sa Muheon waved his hand to dismiss him.

“There’s nothing going on, so don’t worry about it.”

With that, Jang Seokgyu shrugged, bowed slightly, and said his goodbye before leaving.

Not long after, the sound of the front door opening and closing echoed. Only then did Sa Muheon’s gaze turn toward the bedroom door.

The door was slightly ajar, just enough for a squirrel to slip through. Standing in front of it, Sa Muheon hesitated for a moment.

Opening an already slightly open door and entering wouldn’t be much of a problem, but considering the squirrel inside, it seemed better to announce his presence before stepping in. Especially since he had already done something to feel guilty about.

Having decided, Sa Muheon raised his hand and lightly knocked on the door. Although no response came from inside, he grabbed the slightly open doorknob and fully opened the door.

There sat a squirrel on its bed. But unlike the usual, when it would greet Sa Muheon cheerfully, the squirrel had its back turned to him, sitting on its bed. Moreover, it was holding its tail protectively in its arms.

A small chuckle escaped Sa Muheon’s lips, but aware of his wrongdoing, he made sure the sound didn’t reach the squirrel.

“Ahem…”

Clearing his throat, he took a step into the room. He saw the squirrel flinch slightly, but he pretended not to notice and spoke up.

“Seokgyu’s gone.”

“…”

As expected, there was no response from the squirrel. Looking at the cold, small back, Sa Muheon spoke again.

“…I’m sorry.”

At those words, the small ears atop the squirrel’s head twitched.

Seeing this, Sa Muheon confirmed that Garam was listening closely to him and slowly continued speaking.

“I’m really sorry for touching you earlier. It won’t happen again.”

Hearing the near-promise, the squirrel turned its head slightly to glance at him. It didn’t fully turn but peeked with one eye, its expression curious. Sa Muheon nearly laughed at the sight but managed to hold it in.

“When I first brought you into this house, I told you I didn’t see you that way, and I still don’t. I never will.”

“…”

“What happened earlier… was really a mistake. Of course, I’m not trying to justify my actions as a mere accident. It’s just… you reminded me of how you used to live as just a squirrel in this house, and I touched your tail without thinking.”

“…Squeak.”

The squirrel finally reacted to his rambling. Its chirp seemed to encourage him to explain further, so Sa Muheon continued.

“In any case, I promise it won’t happen again. If I ever do something so insane again…”

He trailed off, prompting the squirrel to tilt its head and turn halfway around. It was still holding its tail protectively.

“You can bite me again.”

“Squeak?”

The chirp, questioning if he was serious, made Sa Muheon chuckle as he nodded.

“Yes. Next time, bite harder. If you bite like today, it only tickles.”

“Squeak!”

The squirrel raised its voice in protest at his comment, but Sa Muheon only laughed at the sound.

“Squeak! Squeak-squeak!”

The squirrel let out a sharp squeak, sounding even more upset by his laughter, but Sa Muheon was sincere. Earlier, he had merely been startled by the sudden situation—there was no way someone as seasoned as him would find something like that truly painful.

Watching the squirrel, now completely turned around and even leaping down from the bed to approach him, Sa Muheon extended the hand that Garam had bitten earlier.

The squirrel hesitated slightly upon seeing the outstretched hand but then cautiously moved closer to it. Then, with its tiny hands, it gently cradled the bitten finger.

On the tip of Sa Muheon’s finger was a faint mark, hardly even noticeable enough to call a bite wound. For him, it brought only the slightest sensation, something too mild to even classify as pain, but it seemed to feel different to the squirrel.

The squirrel fiddled with it for quite a while, seemingly trying to convey its apology. It felt so remorseful that even its tiny face displayed its guilt clearly.

“It’s fine. It’s nothing.”

“…Squeak.”

The squirrel looked even more downcast at his reassurance, leaving Sa Muheon briefly puzzled. But then, as the squirrel began moving his hand up and down as if to make amends, the confusion vanished and was replaced by laughter.

“Are you trying to make peace?”

“Squeak!”

Seeing the squirrel nod, Sa Muheon gently moved the fingers it was holding ever so slightly.

Finally satisfied, Garam let out one last loud chirp before hopping out of the room. Shortly after, it called out from somewhere outside, as though summoning him. Smiling helplessly, Sa Muheon stood and followed Garam’s trail.

—

That night, Garam lay on his bed, staring intently at Sa Muheon’s face.

He was sound asleep. If he were awake, he would have sensed Garam’s gaze immediately and opened his eyes to look back, but in deep slumber, Sa Muheon was completely unaware, no matter how much Garam stared.

“…Squeak.”

The soft sound slipped out before Garam could stop it, and he quickly clamped his paws over his mouth. Fortunately, Sa Muheon remained undisturbed, still deeply immersed in sleep.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Garam scrutinized his sleeping face once more before crawling back into his own bed.

Lying on his side, Garam hugged his tail tightly and let out a small sigh.

“Phew…”

Sa Muheon’s earlier apology had reconciled the two of them, but an unresolved issue continued to prick at Garam’s heart.

Sa Muheon had promised to be more careful, firmly stating he would never see Garam in that way. Garam had accepted his apology, but… another concern lingered in his mind.

Did that man truly think Garam was planning to run away?

He wanted to ask him honestly, but unfortunately, Garam couldn’t shed his current form. It wasn’t a topic that could be easily conveyed through clumsy and inconvenient writing.

It was frustrating to hold such a simple question in his heart, unable to address it. Though Sa Muheon’s attentiveness had made Garam’s time in his current form relatively comfortable, today, the inability to speak his mind weighed on him like never before.

He wanted desperately to regain his human form and have a proper conversation with him. But the doctor’s warning about the potential prolonged recovery period from any reckless attempt loomed in his mind.

Both the doctor and Sa Muheon had sternly instructed him to avoid stress, but the very situation itself felt like a massive source of stress to Garam.

“…Squeak.”

Garam pouted slightly and hugged his tail even closer.

He wanted to keep thinking about it, but the warmth of his fluffy tail and the day’s events slowly began to lull him into sleep.

No matter how hard he tried to fight it, resisting drowsiness in his squirrel form was no easy feat.

Eventually, Garam closed his eyes. Before fully drifting off to sleep, he found himself wishing he could quickly return to his original form and hoped Sa Muheon wouldn’t see him as just a squirrel. But soon, he fell completely asleep, and those thoughts faded away into the void of dreams.