Even a Lonely Squirrel Has Its Burrow - Chapter 9

He didn’t seem like a bad person.

Hesitating, Garam slowly reached out his hand. The small squirrel’s paw lightly rested on the man’s long, elegant finger.

—

After that strange first meeting that night, the man and Garam grew quite close.

“Hello.”

The man, once again sitting at the convenience store table, greeted him in a lazy voice. Garam hopped onto the table without hesitation and plopped down in front of him. As always, the man extended a finger, and only after Garam grabbed it did he begin gently scratching Garam’s head.

Feeling the pleasant touch, Garam wagged his tail slightly. He heard the man let out a small laugh as he noticed the tail movement.

Although Garam felt a twinge of guilt for pretending to be an ordinary squirrel to gain affection from a stranger, he couldn’t help but like the man. When the man’s hand finally stopped petting him, Garam lifted his head to look at him.

This pretty man was probably… unemployed. Or maybe a gigolo operating somewhere nearby.

“…What’s with that look?”

When Garam gazed at him with a pitying expression, the man seemed to sense something odd in the small squirrel’s stare and straightened his posture. Pretending not to know anything, Garam turned his head away.

Soon, the man prepared a meal for Garam on the table. For a small squirrel like Garam, the nut mix packed in convenient snack-size portions for humans made for an excellent meal.

As Garam’s nose twitched and his gaze fixed on the pack of nuts, the man smiled and opened it for him. He poured the contents onto his palm to make it easier for Garam to eat.

“Here.”

Without any hesitation or caution, Garam took a walnut from the man’s hand with his small paws. The moment he bit into it, a rich, nutty flavor spread in his mouth. Entranced, he ate it all before he realized the walnut in his paw was already gone.

‘Oh no…’

Snapping back to his senses, Garam saw the man handing him an almond as if he’d been waiting for this moment. Taking the almond, Garam eagerly began gnawing on it. The man didn’t need to hand-feed him like this—he could have simply placed the nuts on the pack for Garam to eat on his own—but the man seemed intent on “taming” him by feeding him one piece at a time.

Not that Garam minded. However, he couldn’t help but feel a bit conflicted lately, as if he was gradually being domesticated just as the man intended. Meanwhile, the man watched Garam eat with a satisfied expression. Sensing his gaze, Garam glanced at him.

Today, the man was also wearing a suit. Yet, it didn’t make him look like a typical office worker. The slightly disheveled impression might have come from his natural aura or the few undone buttons on his shirt—it was hard to tell. Even while nibbling on the almond in his paw, Garam couldn’t take his eyes off the man.

The man smelled nice. Given that he always sat here, Garam wondered if he smoked. But the man never smelled of cigarettes—only a pleasant fragrance. Ever since Garam first saw him at this spot that night, the man had spent a significant part of his day here. Most of the time, Garam approached him to get food, but even when Garam hid and observed him, the man never smoked. Instead, he seemed to idly while away his time.

…He really must be a gigolo.

It didn’t make sense for someone unemployed to dress in a suit every day. Yes, he’s definitely a gigolo.

After finishing the almond in his paw, Garam nodded slightly to himself. Unaware of what the little squirrel was thinking about him, the man quickly noticed that Garam’s hands were empty.

“Here, have some more.”

This time, it was dried cranberries. Garam darted forward. While he enjoyed the nutty flavors of almonds and walnuts, nothing compared to these. Naturally occurring fruits often shared a similar nutty taste, but sweet fruits like these were rare to find. The small cranberries the man handed him had quickly become Garam’s favorite treat.

The man seemed to notice Garam’s especially quick movements and smiled as he sorted out all the dried fruit from the mix in his hand. Forgetting even the cranberry he was holding, Garam stared at the man’s hand.

“Hmm? Aren’t you going to eat?”

At the man’s puzzled question, Garam hurriedly began eating what was in his paw.

Whether the man was a gigolo or not had nothing to do with Garam. What mattered to him was that the man brought him delicious treats every day. Usually, the man bought Garam food from the convenience store, but sometimes he brought unique items from elsewhere. Either way, it was all good news for Garam.

“Chirp!”

Even after finishing what he held in his hands, Garam continued to space out, lost in thought. What interrupted his thoughts was the touch of the man’s hand brushing against his tail.

Startled by the sudden touch, Garam bolted to the far end of the table. Of course, he didn’t jump off the table and run far away. He knew that if he did, the man would immediately get up and leave.

From his corner, Garam glared at the man, full of caution. Touching his tail? Among shifters, tails and ears were things only shown to close acquaintances, unless one was a child. And if simply showing them was such a big deal, touching them was practically an act of intrusion unless it was between lovers or family. He couldn’t believe someone had touched his tail. His heart was still racing from the shock. It was the first time anyone other than his parents had touched his tail.

Sure, his tail was smooth and fluffy, but no matter how appealing it was, how could he just…!

While Garam fumed silently, the man alternated between looking at the startled squirrel who had put distance between them and his hand, which had just touched Garam’s tail.

“…It’s soft.”

Of course it was. A full and sleek tail was a squirrel’s pride. It was also the part of himself Garam took the most care of when he was in his squirrel form. He never skipped grooming it before bed. Although Garam wasn’t a real squirrel but a shifter, it was still something he would never compromise on.

Hearing the man’s voice, which sounded as if he hadn’t expected it to be so smooth, wounded Garam’s pride. Turning his back to the man, Garam didn’t leave the table but simply sat facing away from him, pulling his tail close to his chest in case the man tried to touch it again.

“Are you mad?”

The man asked with a slight smile, but the little squirrel with its back turned didn’t budge. Garam let out a quiet huff and stared toward the bushes.

It wasn’t as if the man had touched his tail with ill intent. Wild squirrels might be startled if someone touched their tail, but they probably wouldn’t be this angry. Worrying that he might have overreacted, Garam turned his head slightly to glance back at him—only to see the man’s hand moving toward him first.

“…Squeak.”

On the man’s palm were Garam’s favorite sweet dried fruits. Seeing the treats, his resolve began to waver. Thinking about how those big hands must have carefully picked out the little fruits one by one, Garam decided it might be okay to forgive him just this once.

“Chirp.”

In the end, Garam chose to accept the man’s peace offering. Turning halfway back around, he began picking up the dried fruits from the man’s palm one by one. Realizing Garam had calmed down, the man let out a soft chuckle.

The man certainly had a way of putting Garam at ease. Most people either screamed in surprise when they saw Garam or approached him with overwhelming enthusiasm, calling him cute. But the man was different. Except for the moments when he gave Garam food, he spent his time quietly, not paying much attention to him.

It was hard to figure out what the man was thinking, but perhaps that’s why Garam found him comforting. Since he was hiding the fact that he was a shifter, the ambiguous yet close distance between them felt just right to Garam.

“Are you not mad anymore?”

After finishing the dried fruits in the man’s palm, Garam heard him speak with a smile. Pretending not to hear, Garam stuffed a few nuts the man had set aside into his cheek pouch and fluttered down from the table. When Garam looked up from the ground, the man rested his chin on his hand and waved gently at him.

Garam stared at him briefly before quickly turning and darting into the bushes. Racing back to his precious tree hollow, Garam pulled out two almonds from his cheek pouch and ate them before throwing himself onto a bed of cotton fluff.

The fluff was still soft, but it felt entirely devoid of warmth. It had always been Garam’s source of comfort, but today, lying on the cold fluff made him feel sad. Was it because he had just experienced the warmth of the man?

“…It’s soft.”

Remembering the man’s compliment about his tail, Garam hugged it tightly to his chest and curled himself into a ball. Embracing the faint warmth in his tail made it slightly easier to endure.