A faint whimper came from the bushes.
I stopped.
Looked down.
A fox lay there.
Its body was covered in mud.
Its fur soaked and clinging to its skin.
A deep wound tore through its back leg—
blood mixing with rain, staining the ground red.
I should've walked away.
But my feet wouldn't move.
Save it… just save one thing. At least one.
I took off my jacket and wrapped it around the fox.
When I lifted it,
its body was ice cold.
It flinched.
Its eyes stared at me, filled with fear… and pain.
At that moment, I felt it.
We were the same.
Abandoned by the world.
Mocked by everyone.
Nowhere to run.
I ran home with it in my arms.
Rain dripping down my hair.
My chest tight, barely able to breathe.
Li Ya's voice kept echoing in my head.
"You're a walking curse. Your parents died just for having you."
So that's how they saw me.
I tried so hard to prove myself.
Studied. Worked. Endured.
And for what?
No one cared.
No one understood.
Only this fox…
Shivering in my arms.
As lonely and helpless as me.
I slammed the door shut.
Placed it gently on the sofa.
It looked at me weakly—
its eyes complicated, almost… human.
I stared at it for a long moment.
Then I laughed.
A bitter laugh.
"We're both trash, aren't we?"
And tears fell.
Hitting the floor.
Tap.
Tap.
I rushed into the kitchen and started digging through everything.
Found a bottle of iodine
and some clean gauze.
"Don't be scared," I whispered.
So low, it sounded more like I was talking to myself.
"I won't hurt you."
The fox seemed to understand.
Its eyes softened a little.
But when my hand moved toward its wound—
it trembled.
"Hold on."
I dipped a cotton swab into the iodine
and carefully applied it to the back leg.
Its body jerked suddenly.
A suppressed growl escaped its throat—
pain it couldn't hold back.
"I'm sorry…"
I paused.
Then continued.
"It'll be over soon."
The blood washed away slowly.
Revealing a gash so deep
I could almost see the bone.
The edges were jagged.
Not torn by thorns.
Not from falling.
Something bit it.
Hard.
And meant it.
"Who did this to you?"
I muttered, anger rising in my chest.
Then I let out a tired laugh.
"…Not like you can answer anyway."
I finished cleaning and wrapped the wound.
My hands were clumsy,
but careful.
Too careful.
Like this was the only thing left
I could fix.
Something small.
Something that hadn't abandoned me yet.
"All done."
I let out a breath
and sat back on the sofa.
Staring at it.
"What now?"
"Can you even make it?"
The fox didn't move.
Just kept watching me.
That look again.
Not like an animal.
Almost like a person.
Only then did I realize.
I hadn't eaten all day.
I opened the fridge.
Half a bag of expired bread.
One bottle of mineral water.
"That's it…"
I glanced back at the fox.
"You're hungry too, aren't you?"
I smiled weakly.
"I'll make something warm later…
even if I don't really know how."
When I stood up, my knees ached.
The bruises from earlier were starting to show.
I leaned against the wall
and limped into the kitchen.
Turned on the light.
The yellow glow revealed the mess around me.
For a second, I felt ridiculous.
Someone who can't even take care of himself…
thinking about saving anyone else.
The kettle shrieked when the water boiled.
I poured a bowl
and brought it back to the sofa.
Soaked a towel in warm water.
Gently wiped the fox's face.
Its cheeks.
Its ears.
It slowly relaxed.
Its breathing steadied.
Its warm breath brushed against my fingers.
Soft.
Real.
"At least you won't laugh at me, right?"
I whispered hoarsely.
"At least you won't call me a jinx…"
Outside, the rain faded.
Night covered the room.
Only the desk lamp remained on—
casting a pale circle of light around us.
A lonely human.
A wounded fox.
I sat there, watching it fall asleep.
And for the first time in a long while…
I felt a little peace.
Just a little.
But I knew—
It wouldn't last.