He’s a Fox Ch 65

Chapter 65

When he saw the familiar pajamas—the ones he often wore when sleeping—Hohyun’s face brightened instantly. Clearly Kangwoon, aware of his predicament, had gone to fetch them and quietly left them by the door. The faint trace of tiger scent clinging to the fabric confirmed it. A wordless gesture, yet one full of consideration. The young fox smiled, features melting with relief into a silly grin. Had his tail been out, it would have wagged so furiously it left afterimages.

After changing back into those clothes in his own room, he rummaged through memory and located the first-aid kit. Luckily, his winter garments were long enough to cover most of the bite-marks scattered across his body—but his face was another matter. That was plain for anyone to see, and the thought of bumping into others like this embarrassed him bitterly. He decided to cover them with something—large bandages, if nothing else.

The mark was so massive that one patch wasn’t nearly enough. He had to stack three over his cheek just to cover one jaw-print. With a face plastered like hastily sewn rags, he finally dared step out toward the kitchen.

At once, a savory aroma hit him. His stomach growled loudly, clenched in knots. It wasn’t yet the proper hour for dinner, but after sleeping all day on an empty belly, he could wait no longer. Drawn by the smell like a bewitched man, he wandered to the table.

The day’s meal: juk, rice porridge, speckled rich with beef. His mouth pooled with saliva, and he swallowed hard. Setting silverware down, the tiger suddenly glanced up at the audible gulp.

Golden eyes locked directly to his cheek. The bandages clumsily stacked there drew critical attention. Without a word, Kangwoon stood and strode out. Moments later, he returned with a first-aid kit in hand—the very same kit the fox had used minutes earlier.

He gave a short tilt of his head. “Take off your shirt.”

“…H-here? Now?”

“No one’s around. It’s fine.”

Clearly, not the lips (he already knew about those). Nor were the other marks bad enough to require urgent “medical” treatment. What then—his back?

Awkwardly, the fox turned his head to try and peek at his own shoulders, but an owl he was not. Finally, he sighed and stripped again, fumbling to cover his front modestly like a new bride. Why cover areas hidden from view anyway? But seeing him blush like that made the tiger’s lips curve, recalling a memory: once, when he had reverted from fox to human mid-embrace, he had looked just this way too.

The fox could not see such an expression. All he did was wait patiently, shoulders tense, covering his chest with both hands.

Psshhht—a spray misted cold and damp across his back, spreading wide across shoulder-blades. Definitely anti-infection spray. The area covered showed it must have been quite the feeding frenzy, he thought wryly.

The sharp smell in the air reminded him of the cub. Surely, when Yuri returned, she’d wrinkle her little nose and whine, “Moongmoo smells funny!”

That thought spurred the question from his lips: “Where’s Yuri?”

“She’s still at the main house. Last night, Father insisted on keeping her over, just for one night. Once Mother calls, I’ll go get her. You don’t need to come—just rest here.”

Relief washed through him. Truly, his body remained strained and stiff as an un-oiled wind-up doll. He couldn’t have traveled far anyway.

Finished, he hastily redressed and sighed in relief. But just then, the tiger, still watching, tossed out casually, “Mind if I bite?”

“Eh? What—oh!!”

He had nodded absentmindedly, ready to answer anything within reason, but hadn’t caught the implication. The tiger leaned in close—very close—and opened his jaw wide. Before the fox could recoil, teeth clamped playfully into the unbandaged cheek. A controlled bite. Not painful—but so sudden he yelped aloud.

Satisfied with his “sample,” the tiger pulled away, smug. The fox sat stunned, blinking dumbly.

The tiger chuckled almost to himself. “When Father bit Yuri and got scolded by her… I never understood. Now…I do.”

It wasn’t even spoken for him—more self-reflection than conversation. But the fox, cheek glowing, wrapped his hand over the mark.

Content, the tiger licked his lips as if savoring, then steered the flustered fox toward the table as though nothing strange had happened.

Yet the oddity didn’t end there. What was strange was not that the tiger bit, but that since morning…he had stayed human. He usually favored tiger form, falling back into it after short spells. Not once had Hohyun seen him hold his human shape so long.

He sat across, tapping at his tablet. The fox peered furtively, uncomfortable.

The tiger raised eyes and said simply, “Go to bed if you want. Want me to carry you?”

“No! I can walk just fine!”

A “simple escort” disguised as “carrying”—he would not fall into such a trap. No invalid he, thank you. Still, the mention of bed made his sore body ache harder. He rose reluctantly.

The tiger rose too. The fox assumed coincidental direction—until at his own doorway, a bulk of muscle slid before the knob. Herding forward gently, subtly—and suddenly, he found himself inside the tiger’s bedroom instead.

The tiger, having achieved this herding, stepped out again, closing the door behind.

Silence. The fox blinked around. Does this mean… I can sleep here?

After some pacing, he surrendered. The giant bed was too enticing. Crawling carefully up, he collapsed face-first into thick softness. His eyelids drooped, nearly gone—when pounding at the door snapped him awake.

Not a polite tap-tap—a jarring BANG BANG.

The fox crept over and cracked the door.

A massive boar beastman filled the hall, bristled tusks jutting menacing despite his grin. Likely meant as friendly—but the tusks doubled the intimidation. Before words could form, the boar shoved something into the fox’s hands—a plush toy. A black dog doll, unfamiliar.

The fox blinked, speechless. They had shared barely any interaction beyond a few pats when he was small. Why now, a toy? Too polite to refuse, he accepted. The boar puffed in pride, snorted air through great nostrils, and stomped off, leaving as abruptly as he came.

The fox returned, dumbfounded, and set the doll on the bedside table. Its glossy plastic eyes glared under the light. He stared for long moments, unsettled.

Footsteps heralded the return of the rightful room’s owner. When Kangwoon entered, his eyes fell on the toy at once. He gave the slightest nod.

“Ah. That’s for Yuri. It’s late tonight, so just give it to her tomorrow.”

“…It’s hers?”

Sure enough, it made sense—a friendly gift prepared for the cub. In this household, everyone scurried to earn her favor. If it was a puppy plush, she would indeed beam.

The fox, still holding a blank look, knew nothing of this—but the tiger paused, gaze arrested by his bewildered face.