He’s a Fox Ch 67

Chapter 67

Dark smudges lined his eyes, his gaze unfocused with fatigue. Yet oddly, despite looking utterly worn out, Hohyun brimmed with more energy than usual. Having returned home late the previous evening with Yuri, the alligator had no clue what had transpired during those absent hours—and so regarded the fox with suspicion.

Thanks to her shorter vantage, Yuri hadn’t the faintest idea her “Gator Uncle” was eyeing Moongmoo Oppa so oddly. Mid-breakfast, the cub abruptly declared with formal firmness:

“Today, I’m staying home.”

“In weather like this? Don’t you want to play outside?”

“Nope.”

It was the result of two days’ deprivation—one night at the grandparents’ house, another for dinner—during which she hadn’t seen her beloved fox. Her Moongmoo concentration had dropped below safe levels; today, she would replenish by spending time with him. At her solemn decree, both guardian tiger and fox only nodded.

The sun shone brightly, yes, but wind sliced bitter cold. Winter had begun in earnest, so staying in was reasonable—and who dared contradict the princess? After breakfast, Hohyun waited dutifully for Yuri to complete her morning routine in the bath.

Leaning against the wall, he was still smiling faintly when Kangwoon, who’d been watching him since morning, suddenly asked:

“Sleep well last night?”

Truth: he hadn’t closed his eyes at all. But with a partner of one day—the instinct was to bluff. He nodded. Dissatisfied, the tiger’s brows twitched, then—nip—he bit down on the fox’s crown.

Startled and indignant, Hohyun clutched his head with a wounded face. From the bathroom, the alligator stepped out—and froze. His eyes boggled. What in the world—? Instantly, he clapped hands over Yuri’s eyes.

The cub, bewildered and already growling a warning rumble, writhed: “Rrrr—!” But he did not let go. Better she be confused than witness her beloved fox being “bullied” by her brother; she’d have roared the house down.

Alerted, Kangwoon glanced back. Eye contact with his henchman—then, mercifully, he turned and wandered into his study. The alligator sagged with relief, lowering his hands only once the tiger fully left. But the reprieve was short-lived. For the next day entire, he was witness to countless more “nibbles.”

At lunch, while choosing a fairy-tale book for Yuri, even during the reading—each time, bite upon bite. Cheeks, knuckles, wrist—ever-changing territory.

The alligator wanted to cry. He could not fathom it. A grown man—in his forties—behaving like a pup still cutting milk teeth? The only one with an excuse was the actual child; when Yuri’s gums itched, she would politely request her teether-chew toy, gnaw happily, and return it cleaned.

Yet here was her adult brother, snapping nibs all day. The alligator flung his body as human shield from Yuri’s sight, preventing an outbreak.

By the time it reached five, even Hohyun felt heat of embarrassment. Was this…okay? In front of a child? In front of the alligator?

‘Next time, I’ll really say stop,’ he resolved. But of course, when the next time came, he only met golden eyes, nerves fried, and said nothing.

The sixth bite landed before he knew it.

…Truthfully, he didn’t dislike it. Dogs and foxes, after all, displayed affection through harmless mouthing. Of course, Kangwoon did not mean it that way. But still—Hohyun couldn’t stop smiling. He turned—and met the alligator’s aghast face, now shading from confusion to outright terror. The fox averted his gaze, cheeks warming.

Perhaps next time, truly, he would protest.

The moment came when Yuri settled to her nap. Quick work—the tiger tucked her in, then rose instead of curling at her side as he usually did. Matters remained to address. He looked back—and his fox, already staring, froze. Backpedaling quickly, the smaller man squeaked as the predator advanced, grinning.

One step, and lips pressed to his cheek—smack.

Hohyun shrieked like a startled pup, springing up in fluster. The tiger only laughed gleefully at his animated twitching and whispered:

“You left the plush here yesterday. Come fetch it later.”

“In… plush? Oh! Yes! But—what is that thing?”

At last, the question that had gnawed since yesterday. He asked, and the tiger explained.

“There was a crane game machine on the way home. You spotted it and decided you had to win it for Yuri.”

“…I? Tried a crane game?”

“Mm. About thirty minutes’ worth. Tried again and again. Rigged things, I heard—they loosen the claw tension.”

It made no sense. Hohyun, whose luck sat perpetually below global average, never touched pure games of chance. He simply didn’t.

And yet he had.

Unless…

The realization struck. The boar guard. His sudden proud gift of a black puppy plush. That explained his smug snort. He must have taken pity, or been pressed into service, and won on the fox’s behalf.

The fox sighed, resolution solid. He would apologize the moment they next met; he had inadvertently forced hardship upon him with drunken stubbornness.

Taking permission to reclaim what was his, he slipped toward the tiger’s room. There—still on the nightstand—sat the dog plush toy. He scooped it up, hid it awkwardly behind, and tiptoed back toward Yuri’s bedroom.

Best to have it waiting when she woke.

But his path was blocked. A shadow loomed. A croc hand seized his dangling tail. The other leaned in, whispering urgently:

“So—what exactly happened?”

“…Eh?” He looked down at the plush. “This? Oh, two nights ago, outside—”

“Not the doll. Him. The boss.”

Voice hushed, strained with frustration. The fox winced, sheepish. After all, since morning the alligator had sat through countless outrageous sights. He offered an honest confession—soft, embarrassed:

“…Apparently, I confessed.”

“…To him? Now wait—but why do you sound so casual? This isn’t some stranger’s business!”

“I—I don’t really remember well…”

The reptile gawked. Did I hear that right? He frowned, knitting scales, muttering:

“…This is that… what do they call it, MZ or something?”

He meant “MZ generation,” young slang. In truth, he had mangled concepts completely. But instead of dragging out a tale of drunken blackout confession somehow reciprocated, the fox let him hold his own misconception.

The alligator sighed, shook his head heavily, and returned to the lounge. The fox trailed along behind.

There, sound asleep, Yuri nested into sofa cushions, breathing light snores. With quiet care, the fox placed the plush at her side.

Half an hour later, her eyes blinked open.

And the very first thing she saw was a plush dog: glossy black fur, big round eyes, tongue peeking pink between soft snout, ears pricked, chest fur luxuriant. Her eyes went wide—and she bolted upright.

 

“MZ” misunderstanding