The gift is me!
How would Siyul react if she did that? It probably wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Deciding to make up for the lack of an actual present with sincerity, Haein hurried to get ready. She ran to Siyul’s room, dragged the hidden clothes out of the suitcase, and pulled out the prettiest one she could wear—a caramel-colored half-coat.
“Perfect!”
She clenched her fists with determination at her reflection in the mirror.
Her plan was simple: she would go near the animal hospital, hide, and then surprise Siyul when he got off work.
She didn’t have anything prepared in her hands, so at the very least, she could make it clear she hadn’t forgotten his birthday by doing something she normally never did.
She had never once gone out to meet him before, so this seemed like it could be a pretty good event.
They could take a walk together in the park on the way back home too.
Because that would be just like… a common couple’s date.
Right now, with Taeil away and her body filled with plenty of energy, it was easy enough to keep her human form.
Maybe today was the perfect chance.
The perfect day… to go meet him.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
From Taeil’s house, it took about fifteen minutes to walk slowly to the hospital where Siyul worked. If she left now, she could catch him right on time.
The moment Haein stepped out through the apartment’s front gate, her mood lifted.
It was just going out to meet him, but she could already imagine Siyul smiling brightly when he spotted her. The thought alone made her heart swell with happiness.
Unconsciously grinning to herself, Haein joined the stream of people heading home from work, her steps brisk and light.
She knew the road to the hospital well.
Every morning Siyul carried her along this way to work, after all.
Of course, the view she remembered from inside the cramped carrier as a cat and the wide-open, high vantage she had now as a person were worlds apart. But still, it wasn’t enough to make her get lost.
“This feels amazing.”
Crossing the crowded crosswalk, she tilted her head back, gazing at the sky just beginning to blush with sunset.
She had always been human at her core, yet to stand here now, mingling with the crowd in her human form again, felt nothing short of extraordinary.
That had to be why her heart was beating so fast. Well—that, and the excitement of planning her little surprise.
When she cut through the park halfway between the apartment and the hospital, her pace quickened even more.
[…Oh.]
If not for the cry she suddenly heard, tugging sharply at her awareness, she would have passed straight through the park without stopping.
Haein halted before she realized it.
“What was… that?”
It wasn’t a human sound.
It was thinner, scratchier—almost like the whisper of wind.
A voice that felt less like something entering her ears, and more like something brushing directly against her mind.
Yes, just like the reaper had said—the kind of voice she always heard at the hospital. The thoughts of animals. Dogs or cats, those creatures intelligent enough to form emotions.
But this one was faint. From her experience, that meant the owner of the voice wasn’t very healthy.
Her feet and ears pulled her instinctively toward the sound.
Then came the thought:
I should ignore it. I’ll be late meeting Siyul.
Her head told her the truth—that whatever this was, the easiest thing would be not to get involved.
“…Even if I don’t pay attention… someone else will…”
After all, it wasn’t even human.
She knew it was a cruel thought, but she wanted to turn away.
Haein squeezed her eyes shut. But she couldn’t turn back.
In the end, no. She couldn’t ignore it.
The voice was too desperate, too raw. Drawn as if bewitched, she followed the sound.
It was always like this.
Her mind never managed to harden its resolve; her heart always moved her body.
Just like the time she let Siyul into her life.
[…Want to go.]
The next time the voice rang out was when she was passing under a broken streetlamp, scanning her surroundings.
Forgetting she wasn’t in cat form, Haein instinctively perked her ears—only to realize they wouldn’t move. She raised her hand beside her ear instead, as though that would help her hear better.
“Kitty…? Or a puppy?”
Whichever it was, the sound had definitely come from this direction.
Her nose caught it then—that distinct animal scent. She turned toward the dark thicket just beyond the flowerbed.
From the smell, she guessed it was a dog.
She pushed through the shrubbery into the grassy area beyond. The closer she came, the clearer the voice grew.
There was also the rustling of grass.
“Are you in there…?”
Suddenly, she remembered that rainy day half a year ago—when Taeil had found her.
If he hadn’t picked her up back then, she wouldn’t be doing this now. Before that, she had never once spared a thought for stray animals.
[…Sister?]
For the first time, a coherent word reached her—someone searching, calling.
The voice was both piercing in its desperation and faint to the point of vanishing, sending a chill over her skin.
Haein’s shoulders stiffened. She sniffed the air. Beneath the stench of filth clinging to fur, a sharp iron tang suddenly hit her nose. Blood.
“You’re badly hurt.”
[Sister?]
“…No. I’m not.”
At last, peering closer, she found it. A small dog, so filthy she couldn’t even tell what its original color had been.
If she hadn’t heard its thoughts, she would have dismissed it at once as a pitiful, dirty stray.
The idea of holding such a creature had always been unthinkable.
And yet, because it was speaking—because its voice reached her—Haein carefully bent down and lifted the little dog into her arms.
Her feet had dragged her here, her hands had moved on their own.
Its body was soaked, its stench suffocating. The blood loss was so great she couldn’t even guess how much it had bled.
The little dog with pitch-black eyes pressed its nose against Haein’s chest again and again, sniffing.
Perhaps because Haein’s silhouette resembled its owner’s, it wagged its tail furiously—only to lose strength as if that had been its last burst of energy.
[…You’re not my sister. You’re not her.]
When it dropped its head in disappointment, looking as though it might die right there in her arms, panic seized Haein.
She lifted its head and saw, to her relief, that its eyes were still open. But there was no strength in them, and that gave her no comfort.
Slowly, the small dog closed those eyes.
[I… want to see my sister…]
Their longing was always the same—like children crying for their mothers. A grief so deep it left them helpless.
“Puppy. Let’s go to the hospital, okay?”
Filthy paws. A frail body. Fur so horribly matted it was hard to touch.
How had it ended up like this?
Not knowing where the injuries were, Haein carefully ran her hands over it.
There was no collar. No tag.
The dog’s breathing grew weaker, faster, with every startled gasp.
And so, Haein ran.
She ran straight for the hospital where Siyul worked.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
[I want to go home.]
[I want to see my sister.]
[I only stepped out for a moment, but now I don’t know where I am.]
A pet raised safely indoors could never survive the streets.
“Just a little longer, puppy. Please?”
Haein’s chest tightened. She didn’t even know its name. If only its owner could call it by the name it had always known—would it open its eyes then?
Its thoughts kept echoing in her head, thoughts consumed entirely by one thing: the owner it had lost.
Even at the very end, that was all it could picture.
[It hurts… it hurts so much, but my sister’s nowhere.]
[I can’t even remember her face anymore.]
[I think I’m forgetting her scent too.]
Those lifeless black eyes… they looked ready to spill tears.
[I don’t want to forget.]
More than “I don’t want to die,” what it repeated again and again was that it wanted to see her, that it missed her, that it didn’t want to forget.
The words drew tears from Haein’s eyes until she could hardly run straight.
Her heart beat faster, stumbling her feet. She nearly tripped several times before finally reaching the wide street near the hospital.
[…Sister… I’m right here… why can’t you see me?]
“We’re almost there. Hold on. Please.”
[I’ll listen this time. Please come get me.]
They were really almost there. But the dog only blinked sluggishly, as if broken, before closing its eyes for good.
In an instant, as if it were a lie, its breath stopped.
No more sounds came.
And Haein could move no more either.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
Perhaps it was dreaming even now, without breath.
Dreaming of waiting and waiting, until its owner finally came. Dreaming of being in that trusted embrace, of being a good dog again.
“…Heh.”
Surely, it had been loved once. Surely it had only stepped outside, curious about the world.
But out here, it would not have been cherished as it had been at home.
Not everyone adored dogs.
A pet treasured in one household might be nothing more than a nuisance in the streets.
The same people who once coddled it like a baby may have kicked it instead. How terrified must it have been?
And yet, when it was hungry, it must have crept forward anyway.
But the world is full of people who call dogs dirty, unpleasant, disgusting. In the end, it must have been hurt.
Still, like a fool, it would whine and seek affection, maybe even snap in protest—only to be hurt again.
If it learned to be wary, it might have survived. If not, then it would end like this.
The dog was so small, hardly even half the size of a human torso.
Curled up with its eyes closed, it looked pitifully tiny, unbearably fragile.
And there are those who can do nothing but see it that way.
The sight of such fleeting frailty crushed Haein’s heart. The stench of death clung to it. Life had been so hard for this little one, while dying had been so easy.
And she hadn’t even been able to help it.
“…I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry I wasn’t your sister.
Sorry that I was no help at all, that I only cried.
Even just watching death was too heavy to bear.
Haein stood frozen for a long time. Then, remembering its final wish, she forced her feet to move toward the hospital.
[Come get me.]
That had sounded like its last wish.
Could it still find its owner, even now? Could it return to the warm embrace it had longed for?
When she finally reached the front of the hospital, she drew in a sharp breath. But the air stuck in her throat.
Her tears kept rising, making it impossible to breathe evenly.
Ding.
“How can I help y—”
The receptionist broke off mid-sentence when Haein pushed open the door.
Blood was smeared across her coat, and though it looked as though she had brought in an emergency patient, the air about her was not one of urgency.
It was closer to the stillness that follows after everything has ended. From the outside, she almost seemed calm.
She stopped just inside the entrance, her gaze fixed toward Siyul’s office.
“…Is Kang… is he here?”
“Excuse me?”
“Doctor Kang.”
Turning her eyes back to the receptionist, Haein repeated clearly. Then her hands slackened around the nameless dog in her arms.
Whatever happened now, Kang would handle it.
“Oh, I think he’s just finishing up to leave.”
The hospital was familiar to Haein, but to the staff, she was nothing but a strange woman.
They hesitated, but Haein could already sense Siyul’s presence in the back.
Without being told, she walked straight to his office. She didn’t even knock—she simply opened the door.
She looked composed, but in truth she wasn’t. She couldn’t wait.
She was searching for Siyul as though searching for air to breathe.
“Who…”
The door swung open, and Siyul turned his head from where he stood at the coat rack.
He had just been about to take off his gown. Seeing Haein standing there, frozen in the doorway, his eyes blinked in surprise.
She was supposed to be at home. What was she doing here?
“Kang.”
“…You.”
Before Siyul could even speak another word, he understood everything.
Haein was holding something limp in her arms. Her face was the picture of pain.
Her coat was bloodied, her shoulders trembling as though rain-soaked, her eyes wounded.
Perhaps because he saw everything in that one glance, Haein couldn’t hold back her tears any longer.
“…It’s dead.”
“Don’t cry.”
“We were almost there, but it died.”
He pulled her firmly into his embrace, and Haein realized—this was exactly what the little dog had wanted all along.
To be held. To be loved by the one it adored.
That was all.
It had never been such an impossible wish. So long as they never had to part.
“…It’s not your fault.”
At Siyul’s quiet comfort, Haein nodded against his chest. She knew it was true. But the tears wouldn’t stop, because the little dog felt too much like herself.
“Death really is the end, isn’t it? Hhk—!”
“It’s… alright. Don’t cry.”
His voice was strained with sorrow, but still the tears poured out.
No matter how she thought about it, death was the end. And right now, standing here in front of Siyul, she was caught in the gap between life and death.
But she knew. One day, as the price of being returned from the end, she would have to let go of this fragile in-between completely.
No matter what she did here, in the end it would all be crushed into nothing. The reaper had taught her that again and again.
And still, she kept thrashing in this narrow space.
“I hate this… I don’t want to part ways. I hate it.”
“I know. I feel the same.”
“I don’t want to never see you again.”
Holding the dead dog, crying, Haein poured out her sorrow. Siyul felt the wetness reach his own eyes. His heart ached to the point of breaking.
He saw dead animals every day, yet this… this grief pierced him to the core.
And Haein—she wept openly before him, as if she had been given permission to do so. She looked at him endlessly through her tears.
“What should I do for you… tell me?”
He couldn’t help himself. Though he knew the dead could not be revived, he asked anyway, as if he could do anything if Haein wished it.
All he wanted in that moment was to stop her tears.
He pulled her trembling shoulders closer, pressing his lips against her damp cheek.
Don’t cry, don’t cry… he whispered.
But now that love had bloomed, despair surged just as strongly. Haein’s sobs only grew harder to stop.
When I leave, come get me.
She couldn’t bring herself to say it. She had no right. And besides, it was impossible.
“Please… don’t cry.”
What will make you stop?
His hands, his eyes kept asking.
But his chest was breaking, and he felt he might cry as well.
The staff, watching quietly, thought the same thing.
Those two… they really are in love.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
T/N: Ah … I think I shed a tear or two there T_T
