Episode 8
Yeonwoo found herself in a strange room.
A small child she didn’t recognize was tossing and turning beside her, feverish and weak.
Yeonwoo tried desperately to climb up next to the child to stay by their side —
but no matter how much she flailed, her legs hung uselessly in the air.
They were too short, too clumsy, and held no strength at all.
“It’s okay. I’ll give you mine. Then it won’t hurt anymore.”
She wanted to shout those words, but the only sound that came out was the whimper of a little fox.
Before she knew it, the boy’s figure was fading, and she ran after him —
barefoot, until her soles bled — yet he never became clearer.
Tears welled up, blurring her vision, but she couldn’t stop running.
What finally stopped her was a blinding beam of light charging toward her, horn blaring.
“Hah!”
Yeonwoo bolted upright, gasping for air as she slowly regained her senses.
She wiped the moisture from her cheeks and eyes and sat blankly upright.
Whether it was sweat or tears, her pillow was soaked through.
“…What time is it?”
The crimson light of sunset poured through the window, staining the room red —
a sign that an entire day had passed.
One glance at her phone made her jump to her feet.
“I’m late!”
She dashed toward the bathroom — then froze, remembering:
as of yesterday, she was completely unemployed.
The angry voice of the restaurant owner’s son echoed in her ears,
telling her never to show up again.
She slumped to the floor with a sigh.
In truth, she couldn’t deny that the man was right.
Pushing herself too hard had never been good for her.
But whether the family sold the restaurant or passed it down,
it no longer had a place for Yeonwoo.
She opened her phone and sent the message she hadn’t managed to send the night before:
“Please recover soon.”
Then she exhaled deeply.
“Haah…”
She didn’t have the luxury to sit and despair.
Reality was pressing in — and she had already been fired from a string of part-time jobs.
Each time, it was the same: someone else made a mistake,
and Yeonwoo took the blame.
They said she brought bad luck,
blaming every misfortune on her.
Her being a fox beastkin gave them the perfect excuse.
The restaurant had been her only steady income,
and now even that was gone.
Rubbing her messy hair, she dragged herself into the bathroom.
Her reflection in the mirror stared back at her —
and though the marks had faded,
traces of that night still clung to her skin like a stubborn shadow that refused to be forgotten.
Determined to look for anything, even day labor,
Yeonwoo reached for her phone.
That’s when she noticed five missed calls from Hyunmin,
along with several worried messages.
She hesitated for a moment, then called him back.
Before the second ring finished, his anxious voice burst through the speaker.
― “Where are you?”
“At home.”
― “You disappeared so suddenly yesterday, then your phone was off. I thought something happened. You came home late too.”
Hyunmin was the one person who knew how often Yeonwoo got dragged into trouble.
Feeling guilty, she quickly apologized.
“Sorry. Something came up yesterday. Wait — did you come by my place?”
― “Yeah. I bought you a cake and stopped by after work, but you weren’t there. It’s still on the rooftop — go get it.”
“Why didn’t you just come in?”
― “Forgot my key.”
“Hah, sorry for making you go through the trouble.”
Yeonwoo opened the door and stepped out to the rooftop.
The winter air bit at her skin,
but sure enough, a cake box sat neatly where he’d left it.
Inside was a strawberry cake — her favorite — piled high with glistening fruit.
“Found it. You didn’t have to buy something this expensive.”
― “Come on. You go nuts for strawberries. I even asked them to double the topping. It’s cold out, so it should be fine — but if it smells weird, don’t eat it.”
“What do you mean, ‘double’? It’s not a Chinese restaurant.”
Despite her joke, Yeonwoo’s lips lifted slightly.
For the first time in a while, a bit of light returned to her expression.
Hyunmin was right — Yeonwoo loved strawberries.
She could eat several boxes in one sitting.
But they were too expensive,
a luxury she rarely afforded.
Most days she just chewed strawberry candy instead.
So this — this was a real treat.
“Thanks. I’ll enjoy it.”
― “So what happened yesterday?”
“Ah… you remember Ms. Sunhee, the restaurant owner?”
― “Yeah, I’ve eaten there before.”
“She collapsed last night. I was with her at the ER.”
― “What?! Is she okay?”
“I think so. She seemed stable.”
― “That’s a relief. So that’s why you weren’t home.”
“Yeah, that’s right.”
She didn’t mention the harsh words from the owner’s son,
nor how she’d sat alone in the hospital parking lot until midnight, lost in thought.
Through the phone, she heard Hyunmin talking to someone — probably a coworker —
and seized the chance to change the subject.
“You said you’re flying out for a business trip, right? Better get going. Be safe.”
― “Still got time, but my boss is rushing me.”
“I should get moving too. Thanks again for the cake.”
― “Alright. Talk soon.”
He grumbled that she was too cold,
but someone in the background urged him to hurry,
and the call was about to end when—
― “So… you’re really okay, right?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
― “Not Ms. Sunhee — you.”
Yeonwoo froze. He must have sensed she was hiding something.
But she forced a cheerful tone.
“Really, I’m fine. Just worried about her, that’s all.”
Hyunmin was the only one she could confide in —
and that was exactly why she couldn’t.
If she told him the truth, he’d drop everything to help.
She couldn’t let that happen.
“Don’t worry about me. Go on ahead — I’m heading out too.”
He didn’t press further.
Once the call ended, Yeonwoo tucked the cake into the fridge
and crawled back under her blanket.
Normally, she’d stare at the cake for hours before tasting it,
but today, she didn’t feel like doing anything at all.
A few days later…
After Ms. Sunhee’s collapse,
Yeonwoo had stayed cooped up at home for days.
She barely moved, buried under her blanket,
until her phone suddenly rang.
“Who could that be… No one ever calls me.”
When she saw the name on the screen,
she scrambled to answer before it stopped ringing.
“Boss!”
Her voice came out loud and rough from days of silence.
― “Good grief, you’ll blow my eardrums! Yeonwoo, that you?”
She hadn’t had the courage to call,
weighed down by guilt.
Now she quickly asked after her condition.
“Yes, it’s me! How are you feeling?”
― “Alive thanks to you, child. I owe you my life.”
Just hearing that made Yeonwoo’s shoulders loosen in relief.
“No, really… I should’ve stayed longer that night. I’m sorry.”
― “Sorry? Don’t be ridiculous! The doctor said if it weren’t for you, I’d be dead! You’re my lifesaver.”
When Yeonwoo didn’t reply,
the old woman sighed and added softly:
― “I heard my son said some awful things to you that night. I’m sorry about that. He didn’t mean it.”
“It’s okay, really. Don’t worry.”
Compared to everything Yeonwoo had suffered before,
a few harsh words were nothing.
― “My body’s old and useless now, but that fool still blames others for everything.”
“Please don’t say that!”
But she didn’t take it back.
Her tone was resigned.
To Yeonwoo, Ms. Sunhee had been a blessing.
The first person who had accepted her —
a fox — without hesitation.
She was the reason Yeonwoo had dared to dream again.
“You have to stay healthy… Grandma.”
It was the first time Yeonwoo had ever called her that aloud.
A brief silence — then a warm chuckle came through the receiver.
― “…Alright then. You too, Yeonwoo. You’re going to be happy, I promise you that.”
Yeonwoo’s tail, peeking out from her blanket,
waved gently side to side.
The police officer had been right —
Yeonwoo really was a lucky person, despite everything.
― “So, what are you doing now that you had to quit? Found a new job yet? Eating properly?”
Ms. Soonhee knew exactly how hard Yeonwoo’s life had been,
and how much that restaurant job had meant to her.
Yeonwoo couldn’t tell her she’d been shut inside for a week straight,
so she lied, just to keep her from worrying.
“There are lots of short-term jobs these days, so I’m saving little by little.”
― “Still doing delivery and day labor work? You’re too fragile for that — always coming home bruised.”
“I’ve gotten better at it. I don’t get hurt as much anymore.”
― “Liar. Anyway, since you don’t have a stable job yet, I have a good opportunity. Want to try it?”
“What kind of opportunity?”
And with that single question —
Yeonwoo’s life began to change once again.
