Chapter 124

In an instant, Dori leapt straight into Haban’s arms. Haban hugged the precious being tightly.

What if this was just an illusion?

If this were a dream, like the days he suffered daily in the imperial palace, he would rather never wake up. Yet, as if to prove it was no dream, coarse fur brushed against his cheek before he could even search for it.

“Kawng.”

The fox sniffed with its pitch-black nose and let out a small cry. When their eyes met, the round golden irises, slit vertically like a blade, stared up at him as if asking, Why are you looking at me like that?

It really is you.

Amusingly enough, his heart reacted before he had even seen the fox transform into human form. Haban pressed his lips to the fox’s nose.

It’s a relief you’re safe. Truly.

“Kki, kkiing! Kae-aeng!”

When Haban held the fox without moving for a long time, the fox squirmed and whined in his arms, rubbing its head against him.

It seemed impatient, but Haban couldn’t bring himself to let go. He feared that the Dori he had finally found might suddenly vanish before his eyes.

“Huu…”

Hearing Haban’s sigh, the fox twisted its body until it managed to poke its head out from his embrace and shook it briskly.

Lick.

Then it stuck out its tongue and licked Haban’s face. The warm, damp, soft flesh brought heat with it, pulling Haban from dream into reality.

This isn’t the time to just stand here like this.

Only then did Haban loosen his arms. The fox wriggled, hooked its forelegs over his arm, and then went limp, eyelids drooping slowly until they closed.

“Dori.”

“…Ka-ang.”

It answered, so it wasn’t asleep yet, but it looked utterly exhausted.

And why wouldn’t it be? No matter how it had escaped from its kidnappers, judging by how light its body felt and how rough its fur had become, it had clearly gone through no small hardship.

“That’s right. You must have been frightened as well.”

The details could be heard once they returned.

Still holding Dori in his arms, Haban turned around. Jipyeong and the shadow assassins flanked him protectively.

‘…Huh?’

Dori caught sight of a round roof, a surrounding wall, and a small wooden gate in the distance, and its snout twitched.

Something’s strange… is that the right place?

When watching from afar while hiding, Dori had focused only on Haban and Jipyeong’s movements and hadn’t paid much attention to the condition of the house.

As they drew closer, the sight of the wall entirely covered with large, lush, vermilion blossoms made Dori dig its claws into Haban’s sleeve.

What the—! Those flowers weren’t in the original story!

“Shh, it’s all right. I’d like to take you straight to the palace too, but I think you need to rest first.”

Haban seemed to think Dori was frightened by the unfamiliar place and stroked its fur gently.

That’s not it, Dori cried out, “Kawng, kawng,” but Haban’s eyes stayed fixed ahead. Striding in wide steps, he passed through the wooden gate.

Was I… mistaken?

If just seeing it from outside had been startling, then stepping inside left Dori completely baffled.

In the clean yard, a mother hen led her bright yellow chicks along. Even with armed soldiers around, they showed no fear—a sign they were already accustomed to the environment.

One soldier, spotting the emperor cradling a white fox, drove the hen and chicks into the coop.

Cluck-cluck-cluck! Flap-flap! Thinking the soldier meant to attack, the hen pecked fiercely at his boot. Bweet, bweet! The chicks cried loudly, as if cheering on their mother.

Taking in the scene, Dori’s mouth hung open.

Then… where is this?

Naturally, Dori had assumed this was that house from the novel—the final place where the Dori who had escaped the palace reunited with Haban.

Following the original storyline, Dori had been kidnapped in order to escape the palace and had rested in a cave midway, so it should have been the same place.

Yet the house before his eyes was nothing like the dilapidated, near-collapsing structure described in the novel—it was clean and cozy, like a newly built home.

As a result, Dori was thrown off balance.

So it’s not that I met Haban earlier than in the original… it wasn’t that scene at all.

If so, why? There hadn’t been a middle-point meeting in the original plot.

…I don’t know either.

The Red Fox Village was a place he knew like a map, having grown up there since childhood, but the final scene had been somewhere he arrived at purely by chance, so no matter how hard he tried, recalling the original didn’t help.

All he remembered was that it had been an extremely old and dirty house.

Well, if not, then that’s fine.

At least for now, it was a relief—there was nothing to worry about. Snuggled securely in the firm embrace, Dori turned his head to look around the house, then buried his snout back into the broad chest.

Creak.

When they opened the door and stepped inside, a wave of warmth greeted them. Haban set Dori down on the table and brought over a soft cloth.

“Ka… ka-ang…”

Up close, his condition was even more serious.

Had he rolled down a mountainside? His once-white fur was matted and caked with dirt. When Haban lifted one of his forepaws, the soft pads—once carefully tended and treated with ointment—were covered with small cuts and scrapes. Even so, his mouth was stained red, as if he had eaten something.

Haban felt a pang of pity, but also a surge of joy—finally, the reality sank in that he had found his precious fox.

Gently wiping the paw pads with the cloth, Haban asked,

“Are you hungry?”

Dori hesitated, then nodded.

He was a little hungry, but more than that, he just wanted to rest.

Not in the cold, rainy cave, nor in a makeshift fox den dug into the dirt—he longed to sink into a soft bed, pull a warm blanket over himself, and sleep.

As if reading his mind, Haban ordered warm bathwater to be brought in.

Thanks to that, after soaking in the hot water, Dori began to nod off. Still in fox form, Haban didn’t urge him to transform.

They said beast-folk[¹] recovered faster in their true form.

When his swaying, drowsy body was laid on the bed and a pillow tucked beneath his chin, Dori let out a deep sigh and fell into a deep sleep—quite unlike a fox, which was usually sensitive to any sign of movement.

Hoo…

Haban drew the curtains to block all sunlight, even if dawn came, then snuffed out the candle. Darkness deeper than outside descended upon the room.

Instead of lying beside him, Haban placed a chair at the head of the bed and sat down, eyes glimmering faintly as he stared at one spot.

How long did he stay like that?

“….”

The soft, white fur turned into smooth skin and snowy hair, the moist nose became a delicate tip, and the sharp claws rounded out.

With only the ears and tail remaining, Dori had transformed into human form.

Haban slowly ran a hand down his face. Alongside the relief of having regained what he had lost, an almost overwhelming desire surged—to bind Dori so he could never move away again.

How long had it been since he had slept so deeply?

Slowly awakening, Dori didn’t want to open his eyes and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Soft, warm… it was just perfect.

With a satisfied smile, he rubbed his cheek against the plush pillow, then reached toward where Haban should be lying beside him.

‘…!’

…He’s not there?

Just then, as if to reassure him, warmth slid under his hand—a hand much larger than his own covered his smaller one, curling around it like a closed fist.

Dori opened his eyes. Haban was looking at him with a smile.

“Seems you slept well.”

“…Haban.”

“That’s right.”

Unlike Dori, who had overslept, Haban was already neatly dressed—wearing light clothes for ease of movement, his hair tied back. Realizing that he must be the only one with sleep-crust in his eyes and drool marks, Dori tried to pull his hand away.

But when he did, Haban didn’t budge. Instead, he tightened his grip until it almost hurt. Dori’s lips parted.

“S-stop it! Why are you angry?”

The smiling face was even scarier. Haban’s expression remained as if it had been painted—gentle and kind.

“Do I look like I’m angry?”

“Y-yeah, you do!”

Dori awkwardly scooted back. Because their hands were still linked, his arm stretched straight out, but once there was some distance between them, his round eyes narrowed to slits.

Seeing this, Haban reluctantly relaxed his grip, then interlaced their fingers instead.

“That’s not it… I was worried.”

“…”

Soft lips brushed his fingertips. When Dori didn’t answer, Haban continued.

“Just the fact that you vanished so suddenly made my heart sink. I didn’t know where you’d gone, and then when I finally thought I’d found you, you ran away the moment you saw me.”

“T-that’s because…”

“You can explain slowly. But there’s one thing I want you to promise me now.”

“What is it?”

“That you won’t get hurt. Like yesterday—when you ran without looking ahead and almost got into serious trouble—you must promise never to do something so dangerous again.”

…Ah.

After a moment of thought, Dori suddenly shifted his position. Still holding hands, he shuffled on his knees toward Haban.

Flop.

Even as he leaned his whole body forward as if about to fall, Haban caught him with ease, wrapping him in his arms.

Dori had expected that when they met eyes, Haban would first demand to know why he had disappeared. Instead, he buried his face in Haban’s neck.

Simply holding each other wasn’t enough for comfort. He needed more—closer, warmer contact.

[¹] Beast-folk (수인) — In Korean fantasy settings, this term often refers to beings who possess both human and animal traits, sometimes able to shift between full animal form and human form, retaining certain features such as ears or tails.