Archive of Our Own

It was a stupid move but Iwol regrets nothing. 

Even when Director Nam is seething before him, tearing up his contract and certification, Iwol regrets nothing. 

“This is the problem with your generation. You can't even adapt to your environment?” 

He wants to say something. He wants to defend himself, wants to complain that it's none of his fault, wants to say that he did what was right. But Iwol remains silent, enduring because that is what he is good at. 

“Mister Kim, are you listening?”

“Yes, Director.”

He heaves another deep sigh, the fifth since they started talking, Iwol counts. Director Nam sighs like he's carrying all the problems in the world, when he's the one who caused every single one of them. 

“Mister Kim, whistle-blowers are never seen positively anywhere you go,” Director Nam says, vaguely threatening. He glares at Iwol's slightly bowing figure, exercising invisible authority. 

“Do you think you'll be able to find any place to work after doing this?”

Iwol presses his lips into a thin line. There is nothing he could say to refute the director's words. Kim Iwol is a fresh graduate from a local college, newly licensed veterinarian with average grades, and has only 2 months of job experience to his name. 

And now, whistleblower adds to his resume. Kim Iwol, rookie veterinarian, reports the entire organization of the clinic he belongs to MAFRA for falsifying diagnoses and charging ghost fees to clients.

He thinks, frustrated, it's impossible to find a clinic that would accept a whistleblower, not when the same thing he filed a complaint for is a common practice among veterinarians. 

What should he do now? Should he go to rural clinics? Would news not reach the provinces? They say that the vet circle is small and they practically know each other at every annual conference. Maybe, he hopes, there is still a clinic with a good-natured director, one that genuinely cares for animal welfare, not moneygrabbers—unlike Director Nam. 

Iwol spaces out in his thoughts, too drowned in his ‘what ifs’ until Director Nam pulls him out. 

“Mister Kim.” His tone is softer yet it just makes Iwol more wary, because he recognizes that tone. It's a tone that coaxes one to lean into the other, to believe in them, except when Director Nam does it, it's so he can trick others into doing what he wants. 

It's the same trick his coworkers use to coax stray animals, bribing them with food they rarely have and talking with a soft, comforting voice, then catching them to lock them up in a poorly state prison that Manager Nam likes to call an animal shelter. 

Director Nam then suggests, “If you retract your statement, I will reconsider everything. Okay?” 

Iwol doesn't reply.

He lets the director talk about something he'd rather not listen to, something he doesn't believe he'll actually do, something Iwol's morality can never accept.

He ignores Director Nam.

“—so think of it. You're still young, you know? You're also well-accepted by clients. Don't do something stupid like this again.”

When his seemingly endless tirade ends, Iwol can barely remember what the director just said. It doesn't matter anyway. His answer remains unchanged. 

“I'm resigning.” 

Iwol realizes how little time he spent at Hanpyeong Clinic. 

His two-month experience is packed in a tiny, square box that he can easily carry in one hand. It comes in the form of his cat-designed notebook where he kept logs of his clients, dog-themed pens, a mug with an ‘i love chinchillas’ text printed on it, and an unopened pack of animal stickers that he promised a client's child.

It's incredibly painful to put his career in a carton box, to surrender his ID card at the receptionist, to leave the clinic he prayed to gods he didn't believe to enter. 

When Iwol steps out of the building, relief washes his body like cold water. 

Did he actually resign? 

Did he actually lose his job? 

Two steps, that was all he could take before completely freezing in front of Hanpyeong's glass doors. 

A tiny part of his mind curses his recklessness, saying that being moral is simply a justification to what he did. It curses him out for not enduring in Hanpyeong, because courageous Kim Iwol has bills to pay and debts to return. 

And Iwol still needs to repay his sister—

Meow. 

There's a small ball of black fur clawing the edges of his pants, reaching for his ankle. 

“Oh,” Iwol snaps out of his thoughts. “Hello, baby.”

He squats carefully, gently shifting the box he's carrying to his hip so he could offer his hand to the kitten—still meowing for his attention. 

Iwol knows this kitten. He has no idea where it leaves or where its mother is, but he knows it's not a stray with its fancy silver collar. He just wishes it would stop going out alone. Too many pet owners have visited their clinics because of vehicle accidents, and he does not want to see this child become the next victim. 

When the kitten peers its head to Iwol's palm and presses against it, he takes it as a sign to brush the back of his hand to its fur, tracing the curves of its spine. 

“I won't be able to see you here again,” he whispers, like the kitten would understand him. 

Iwol believes that animals, cats in particular, understand humans. Cats are intelligent animals after all. This tiny kitten, especially, looks at him so intensely when he talks, as if ingesting every word he says. 

And it's staring again at him, eyes asking him, why? 

Iwol answers. “I can't work here anymore.” 

It presses another question, the same interrogating question. Why? 

“They,” Iwol chokes up, pauses to find the right words to explain it to the kitten—to a child. “They are bad people and I don't want to work with them.” 

The kitten still stares at him but it seems its curiosity has been satisfied. Iwol can't find another question to its soul-sucking eyes, but the kitten's tail is up, swaying side by side. His two-month veterinarian experience tells him it's not happiness or any other emotion; it's thinking, waiting for something that Iwol has no idea what it is. 

“You shouldn't linger around here.” He tells the kitten, rubbing between its triangular perky ears. 

“Go back home. Don't let the big humans find you.” 

The kitten stays before him, sitting neatly with its front paws put together, tail swaying in rhythm. 

“Come on, go now,” he coaxes it, with all the softness he can gather from his battered body. 

The kitten just stares at him, except Iwol cannot decipher what its gaze wants to tell him this time—or maybe, there's no message for him at all.

Ultimately, he decides to just pick it up. 

The kitten is small enough to be carried in one hand. It's just slightly bigger than Iwol's palm that it comfortably snuggles in his hand, turning to the corner of his elbow where it buries its face. 

Iwol's tiny box is still attached to his hip, but with a kitten, sleeping and purring, in his arm, he stands up and musters enough courage to leave the vicinity of Hanpyeong. 

He tells himself repeatedly like a mantra. 

I won't come back here anymore. 

Iwol's barren, shoe-box apartment is only enough to house an adult. He signed the lease just three months ago, after saving his salary from part-time jobs he took while preparing for the licensing exam. Before he got his own apartment, he lived in a goshiwon during the entire six years he spent studying veterinary medicine. 

He had the option of applying for the university dormitories but curfews forbade him from getting late night jobs. Goshiwon was a better, cheaper option. His small room that would give anyone claustrophobia brought Iwol privacy and freedom he had always wanted to have. 

It was nice for the first few months. 

By his second semester in university, Iwol learned a new feeling he never thought he'd ever feel—homesickness. 

He didn't miss that house and that family. He missed his sister. He missed his slightly larger room that didn't feel as suffocating as his goshiwon. Surprisingly, he missed having another person to talk with—because sometimes, he realizes he has never talked to anyone for a few days. 

Iwol isn't lonely. He cannot be lonely. His sister never lets him feel lonely. But when he's in his goshiwon on his own and all he feels is his presence, Iwol feels so alone. 

It's as if his world is restricted in that four corner room. It's barely 30 feet, crowded with a bed that forces him to curl himself to sleep, a cabinet of his daily clothes that he repeats every week, and a desk with all his most expensive items—his 300 pages biology books.

It feels so alone. In his goshiwon, he's the only one breathing—barely breathing—and it's painful to be aware that he is alive alone. 

He doesn't tell anyone his thoughts. He doesn't tell his sister because he can't burden her anymore, not when she's still paying his tuition. He doesn't tell his classmates because their shallow relationship is only built from asking notes and references from each other. He doesn't tell his professors because that wouldn't be appropriate. He doesn't tell the co-workers from his part-time jobs because they only see each other when they exchange shifts. 

But Iwol tells someone he trusts enough. 

“Heerang, it's all done.” 

He barely stops the golden retriever puppy from jumping down the table, wanting to chase after the dog treat in his hand. 

“Here you go, because you're very good today,” he says and Heerang instantly chomps at the dental stick he waved before him. 

The puppy barks in excitement, almost sounding like laughter to him. Iwol can't help but massage the puppy's floppy ears as he's practically melted on the table, munching on the chicken and milk flavored treat—one that Iwol knew is his favorite. 

“You know, Heerang, I failed my anatomy exam today.” He begins his rant. Heerang's attention remains on the treat, busy licking and biting all over, except its teeth are still small that he's barely making dents to it. 

“It's,” he sighs, hand slowing down to a stop and resting it on the puppy's head, “it's my first time failing an exam.”

Heerang finally pays attention to him. He lets out a soft, whistle-sounding cry.

“Do you feel sad for me?” 

Heerang leans his head to Iwol's hand, pushing it upward. He keeps pushing his hand, still letting out soft cries. 

Iwol lets out a chuckle when he realizes. 

“You just want more pats, don't you?”

It wasn't a cry of sympathy but a whine for more ear massages. Heerang lets out a much louder whine, a clear complaint for his slave of the day, and that is Iwol's cue to get back to work. 

By the time Heerang's owner comes to pick him up, Iwol is done feeling sad over his failed anatomy exam and his hands are sticky and smelling like milk and dog saliva.

His job at the clinic near his university as an assistant allows him to have hands-on experience with animals. He gets to learn from his professional coworkers who are nice enough to let him observe and teach him. And most importantly, he gets to be so close with the animals. 

Just as how he helps the animals in their clinic, they also help him. 

No one else listens to him as well as they do. 

When Iwol talks to them, his secrets are well-kept. 

When he tells them their worries, they return a bump to his arm with their soft, moist nose. 

When he feels like crying, they let him hold them for as long as he could. 

When he holds them, Iwol doesn't feel alone. There's another warmth touching his skin, a heart that beats loudly, breath that he feels, and a body that is so alive he could never think otherwise. 

It feels so comforting to have someone near him, even if they don't say words to him, even if they are just purring in his ears, even if all he hears are some huskies’ ear-grating ambulance horn imitation.

Iwol feels so certain that being a veterinarian is his calling. When he fails more exams, he goes to the animals in their clinic and talks to them. And if he can't go there, the stray cats and dogs on campus are his buddies for the day. His bag never runs out of treats, even if it takes a questionable portion of his salary.

When he moves to Hanpyeong, he thinks his life is changing for the better. He got a new apartment, much bigger than his old goshiwon but still not too big. It's just enough for him, enough not to make him feel claustrophobic. 

His starting pay as a rookie veterinarian is decent enough to start saving so he can repay his debt to his sister while keeping himself alive. 

He believed his life was going well. 

Iwol's steps falter when the kitten in his arm suddenly jolts up. It almost jumps down, if it wasn't for Iwol holding it tightly. 

“What is it?” He asks softly. The kitten in his arms is tense, ears perked up and tail alert. 

He gently scratches the kitten's head but it does nothing to ease it. 

“What's wrong, baby?” 

Iwol feels a low vibration against his arm. It's not the same purring it does when Iwol holds him. It's growling. It's baring its fangs against something and Iwol has no idea what it is. 

And there's something that pulls Iwol out of nowhere, all so suddenly that he drops hold of everything—

There is wind that whistles to his ears, tickling a part of his brain awake. Iwol can't see anything but strangely feels light seeping through his eyelids. And his skin feels too prickly for comfort that he twitches, and ends up reaching for the itch in his arm. 

It's all unfamiliar, overwhelming sensations. 

And when he opens his eyes, there's a thick cloud of trees, leaves covering the sky but light peeks through and Iwol realizes—

His breath hitches. 

It's not Seoul. 

The sky in Seoul is a shade of blue that feels more gray. There are only high-rise buildings, and never enough trees to make it look as if the leaves are clustered clouds. In Seoul, the cars are too loud for the wind breeze to be heard but here—it's too clear. 

Iwol jolts up. He sits on the grass, and looks around where all he sees is green. His hands wander on the ground but all he pats is the soft soil and weeds. 

The emptiness in his hands leaves him too disoriented. The emptiness reminds him of something, of someone. 

The kitten, his kitten, is not here. 

He opens his mouth, about to call for it but ends up stopping. What does he even say to call it when he doesn't know its name? 

Iwol didn't feel comfortable with calling it another name, not when it clearly has an owner with its collar. 

So he settles on calling it with a fitting endearment. 

“... baby, where are you?” 

He carefully stands up and looks around. Black fur should be easy to spot against the green scenery before him yet he finds nothing close to it. 

The box containing his belongings is missing as well. There is nothing in this vast space except him. 

Iwol is alone again. 

In this forest that seems to have no end, Iwol feels so tiny. He feels so restricted, like he's trapped in a small, invisible box that is perfectly shaped like his body. There's no room for any moment; even breathing feels too difficult. 

What should he do? 

Where should he go?

Where is he even?

He wants to call her. He wants his sister with him. He wants his sister to grab him and take him away from here, the way she saved him out of the house that bruised them for years. 

Iwol only calls for her inwardly, mouth too dry to mutter a word, too unwilling to make a hopeless wish. 

The forest is unforgiving and indifferent. Iwol stands in the grass field like a statue, barely breathing against the whistles of wind that is insistent on trickling his nerves. Tinnitus rings in his ears and numbness electrifies him, and the world around him is enclosing him again, growing smaller and smaller and smaller—

and there's a cry that calls him.

It's a familiar cry that Iwol hears everyday at the clinic, except it's louder, and more desperate. It sounded like a cat, a hurt cat calling for help. 

His duty breaks the mold encasing him. He runs to where he hears it, toward the deeper parts of the forest, toward the darkness that froze his mind earlier. 

And he finds a black spot near a trunk. Iwol's heart skips a beat. It's his kitten. His kitten is calling for him. It's looking for him.

When he steps to the trunk, his excitement fizzles down because it's not his kitten. 

There is a tiny creature, with short fur as black as soot. Iwol ignores the disappointment in his heart when he is certain it's not his baby. This tiny creature is hurt and he cannot not do anything. 

Iwol kneels on the ground, his black slacks getting mudded. 

“Hey…” he speaks, on the softest he could so as not to surprise the creature. 

It looks like a cat, like his kitten, just slightly larger. If he is to carry it, it will be as long as his forearm. Yet upon closer inspection, the cat doesn't look like a cat at all.

He doesn't need a six-year veterinary medicine degree to know that cats aren't supposed to have wings, horns and a tail with spikes. 

However, even after attending vet school and having a measly two month old veterinarian license, he cannot identify what is in front of him. There is no such thing in his animal encyclopedia book. 

There is one that seems to resemble it. 

One he learned from a conference he attended for incentives, entitled Anatomy and Biology of Dragons in Fiction. It can't be. It's impossible. Iwol keeps murmuring to himself because it's really impossible. 

He quietly stretches his hand toward it, gently, carefully, without making any noise. 

However, the creature before him opens its eyes and it's a beautiful shade of teal that he has never seen from any stone. 

“Shit…” 

There's no time for Iwol to back down before he is bitten by what he is sure to be a dragon.

Fangs, dragon fangs, bite his arm. It's much thicker and bigger than cat teeth and its jaw locks even stronger than a dog's. The bite tears through his jacket—punctures and breaks through his skin that blood begins to flow. 

Iwol doesn't scream in pain. He winces, presses his lips, and suppresses any noise threatening to come out of him. 

He's been bitten by a dragon. 

Bitten. 

Iwol freezes, blood rushing all over him.

He's never been bitten by any animal in their clinic, not even strays he pets in the street. Cats may scratch him and prick his skin while they're kneading him but that's normal for them. Dogs love to lick him too much. Chickens have pecked him before and turkeys have chased him to the edge of the farm. But Iwol has never been bitten by any animal. 

And now, there's a dragon biting him. 

If there's anything that scared him to death as a veterinarian, it's rabies.

He doesn't scream, just winces at the pain in his arm. The teal glare of the dragon doesn't leave him.

Iwol wonders, do dragons have rabies? 

Is he going to get rabies? 

He mentally lists all of the vaccine shots he has, all taken just after he got his license. But against rabies, they will be useless. And besides, this dragon doesn't look like it would take an anti-rabies shot. 

Iwol meets the dragon's eyes—they're slitted like snakes—and thinks, does this tiny dragon have rabies? 

If yes, then he needs to get a PEP shot now. If he can magically get transported into a weird world with dragons, then why can't he materialize a rabies immunoglobulin shot in hand? 

The tiny punk still attached in his arm looks really dirty, covered in mud and grime. 

Iwol wants a tetanus shot now as well. 

He feels a faint, phantom itch in the wound. Is it the rabies? Is the rabies hitting his nervous system now? 

What should he do? 

Where would he get a vaccine shot? Iwol despairs—would they even be effective against dragon rabies? 

The puncture continues to bleed amidst his thoughts and the dragon still has no plans of letting him go. 

So Iwol decides to be bold.

Since he has rabies now (assumingly) then there's nothing else he is afraid of. 

He grabs the dragon's bottom jaw, pressing with all the strength his left hand has, while his right arm, where the dragon anchors its teeth, is pulled closer to him so he gets better access to the dragon. 

“Let go please…” he mutters to himself, almost whimpering, while his hand remains on its jaw. Iwol's pointing finger and thumb prod the gap in its mouth, and widen it—until there's enough opening for him to pull his arm. 

He can only let out a sigh of relief when he finally pulls out his arm. The dragon plops down on the ground with a soft whimper. 

Iwol remembers the handkerchief in his pocket and grabs it to tightly wrap it around the wound. His arm is trembling from the pain that his adrenaline has been masking since earlier. 

He wants to douse his arm in clean, cold water as well but it's likely he'll bleed to death before he finds a source of clean water here. 

When Iwol is sure he won't die from bleeding, he looks at the dragon on the ground. It's lying down, all on its four paws—if that's what he should call it—reminding Iwol of cats in their threatening position. If he isn't careful, he might get jumped at again and maybe it'll actually bare its fangs on his neck.

“I won't hurt you…” he attempts communication again, softer, with more pleading. 

This time, the dragon listens. 

It still looks scared of Iwol. Its tail remains straight and tense but lying low, teal glare still intense toward him. Although at the very least, it is listening to him. 

“Come on. It's okay.”

It eases slightly; its horns-looking ears are less perked up than earlier. Iwol now has the courage to pet its head. 

And to his surprise, the dragon allows him. 

He hums softly as he caresses its head. Its fur is as soft as it looks. Iwol feels like he's touching a short-haired puppy, maybe like a labrador's fur? 

“See? I wouldn't hurt you.” He says again, still touching the dragon's head. 

At last, the dragon finally yields to him and just rests its head on Iwol's hand as he scratches its chin. 

The dragon whimpers, as if complaining to him. 

“What is it?”

It answers, raising its left wing. There is a huge gash, and seeing how blood has dried around it breaks Iwol's heart—because that just means the poor child has been left alone in an injured state for quite some time. 

No wonder it was so hostile toward him. It was just scared of being hurt even more. 

In the end, he decides to just take it with him. 

It takes several minutes of struggling and wrestling until the tiny dragon is safely swaddled in Iwol's jacket, its wounded wing carefully folded and tucked so it doesn't get worse. 

“Let's look for water, shall we?”

All it takes for the dragon to warm up to him is a few scratches in the chin and talking. 

The tiny dragon is both quiet and talkative at the same time. Unless Iwol speaks, it would keep itself quiet in his arms. Rarely, when it sees something that catches its interest (like some weird bird he cannot also identify flying above them), it would chirp at him like a bird. Iwol doesn't really understand but for the sake of their short relationship built for searching water, he replies in short words like, “really?”, “is that so?”, or “that sounds amazing.” 

Ultimately, it's thanks to the tiny dragon's senses that they reached a shallow flowing stream with water clear enough for Iwol's satisfaction. 

He washes both their wounds and covers it up in ways that violate health codes and cause health hazards. It's the best he could do with whatever he has. 

Looking at the dragon, now with a makeshift gauze and stick keeping its left wing slightly open, Iwol starts to worry. What should he do now? 

Contrary to his worries, the tiny dragon is having its fun stomping in the water. Iwol is concerned that it might get dragged by the flow of the stream—not because it's fast, but because the dragon is barely afloat. 

When it's done playing in the water, it returns to Iwol's side, just far enough for it to fling all the water from its fur without the water reaching Iwol. 

He looks up to the sky. It's turning into a shade of orange he particularly likes. 

“Should we set up a camp here?”

For the first time, Iwol is glad he has gone through his military enlistment. 

Iwol barely feels the darkness when the night settles in. The moon he sees is larger, much brighter, than the one he used to see. And the only time he has seen the sky littered with stars is when he went mountain climbing on an MT in college. 

The fire he lit keeps them warm. The dragon is comfortably snuggled next to him. 

“Is it yummy?” 

The dragon doesn't answer but instead pushes away the bones from the fish Iwol grilled. How neatly eaten, he thinks. Dragons certainly are different.

“Do you want more?” He asks, offering another one freshly taken from the fire. 

It turns away to him, softly tucking its paws in. 

“Oh, you're full already. Go to sleep then.”

Iwol cooks the fish a little longer in the fire. There are only two things he feared as a veterinarian. Rabies and parasites. 

He doesn't really remember when he dozed off. 

Iwol was only watching the fire devour the branches he threw on it one at a time. At some point, the crackling of fire must have lulled him to sleep. 

He wakes up to a loud chirp. 

One that he knew isn't the dragon's. 

“CHEEEEP!”

It's so comically loud that Iwol immediately covers his ears. When he opens his eyes, there is a huge bird perched on a branch, a piece of the small portion left untouched by the fire from last night. 

The bird is almost as tall as his shoulder from where he is sitting, almost on the same eye level, which is freaking him out because it's staring at him too intensely. He just had an encounter with a dragon yesterday that punctured his arm after glaring, so who's to say this one wouldn't? 

“H, hey…?” 

The bird tilts its head at his attempt to communicate. Then it chirps once, loudly yet highly pitched—brightly.

Unlike the unwilling little dragon last night, this one seems to be more friendly and willing to talk to Iwol. At least he can stop worrying about being clawed to death because this bird's talons are too huge for comfort. Not even the turkeys that chased him had talons as long as this bird's.

“What are you?”

The bird answers him again in the same chirp as earlier, just shorter and suddenly—

There is a gush of wind that pushes his hair back. And the bird before him is much, much bigger than it was earlier. 

It's still the same, but now that it fully opened its wings, Iwol is completely overwhelmed. 

Stretched to its full glory, the bird's light golden feathers reflect the sunlight perfectly, bouncing off warm light. Iwol also notices its spurs on each wing, which are almost as long as its claws. 

And he finds an abnormally long tail swaying in the back. 

“... huh?”

It isn't the same tail birds usually have. It's long—not unusual because there are many species of long-tailed birds—but rather than a long feather, the bird has a tail covered in feathers, and it's swaying back and forth in rhythm.

Iwol is certain there are no birds that can do that.

He is doubting his (already over) career and six years in veterinary school; nothing has made sense since he fell into this mysterious fantasy world. How is he supposed to survive in a world too different from his own when he was barely living in what was supposed to be his own world?

While Iwol is momentarily distracted, his eyes shift away from the bird—making it suddenly move from where it is perched to jump toward Iwol.

Or that is what it was planning to do, not until a black ball of fur appeared, growling at him. 

“Don't fight,” he says, almost firm and authoritative, if it wasn't for the subtle trembling in his voice. Iwol doesn't really have it in him to stop two mystical beings from fighting.

Surprisingly, they listen well to him. 

The little dragon does, but the big bird doesn't. 

“CHEEEP!”

Iwol ends up covering his ears for the second time around. At the same time, there is a sudden flash of light that sparkles, forcing him to squint.

When he opens his eyes again, the bird has disappeared.

And in its place stands a boy. 

“Waaaah, Kiyeon!!”

The boy's dirty white robe flaps as he runs toward the black dragon. Iwol fails to stop him, as he is much farther from the dragon than the boy is. 

He drops to his knees on the ground, curling down to hug the little dragon. The boy sobs, almost wailing, while pressing his cheek to the dragon's ears.

“I thought,” he sniffles, “I thought I wouldn't see you again.”

Seeing the child before him reminds Iwol of his previous clients. It isn't uncommon for children to accompany their parents during their pets’ visits to clinics. In fact, most of the clients he had ever handled were parents with children (because his seniors never liked dealing with children and their ‘uncontrollable outbursts’).

It is a common scene for him to see children not wanting to let go of their parents for the vet to check. 

“Wait, the wound…!” 

It takes Iwol everything to pull the child away from the dragon. There is uncontrollable sobbing and kicking (Iwol's legs ended up brunting the damage) until there is a child dangling in his arms.

“Noooo, let go of me!” 

The child wrestles with him again. Iwol tries to keep the boy locked in his arms but somehow, he’s too strong for him to be contained. Before the boy can push him away, Iwol speaks to him again, almost begging. 

“He'll get hurt more if you touch him recklessly. His wings are injured.”

That seems to have worked on the child, seeing as how he froze as Iwol spoke. Unfortunately, it also made him bawl. 

It takes a long time to console the boy. Iwol wishes his jar of candies in the clinic is here because candies work best on children, but it isn't—all he can do is to pat the boy on his back and continue saying, “he'll be okay” and “your best friend will be fine.” to every indecipherable mumble he does. 

When he finally stops crying, Iwol asks. 

“So, who are you?” 

The boy answers, chirps in a loud, brighter tone than earlier. “Kiyeon's best friend!”

Kiyeon, whom Iwol assumes, must be the tiny black dragon. 

Then that means, Cheonghyeon must also be—

“We're both dragons!” 

See? He's right. 

“So you were that big bird earlier.”

“I'm a dragon, not a bird!”

Unlike the quiet Kiyeon who would only meow or chatter to him for attention or food, Cheonghyeon likes to talk. He seems to have grown comfortable enough to sit next to Iwol and keep Kiyeon nearby. 

In the short time they spent talking, Iwol learned several important things about the two. 

One, they are both dragon younglings. Two, Kiyeon ran away from their home hence his currently-missing status. Three, Cheonghyeon left to look for him. 

And four, 

“There was an argument at home with our eldest hyung, that's why Kiyeon ran away.”

At the mention of his name, the little dragon looks away, tail swishing lightly. 

“And what about you?” Iwol asks.

Cheonghyeon pauses. 

“Right! I left without telling the hyungs!” 

They decide to leave the forest. 

There was a little embarrassing moment but it was all sorted out. 

(“Leave the forest? You don't live here?” 

Cheonghyeon looks at him with a confused yet slightly offended look. “I'm a proper dragon. I have a house.”)

Hence, now, they're all walking to the nearest town. Cheonghyeon handed him earlier a cloak (which Iwol doesn't dare to ask where pulled it out because the boy isn't carrying anything) to wear on top of his clothes.

“Your clothes might get us unnecessary attention. Are you a noble who got lost?” 

At his words, Iwol scans his own outfit. 

“Is that what it looks like…?” 

With Kiyeon comfortably snuggling in Iwol's arms with a blanket covering him, the two set out for their journey. 

They only walk on foot, to Iwol's dismay. 

“It would've been nice to just fly back…” Cheonghyeon complains to him. 

He has already tripped over a tree root thrice, and it's making Iwol doubt the “dragons are beings with extreme physical senses and strength” statement he heard from the dragon conference he attended back then. 

“You can't fly?”

“I can't carry you two and fly back home!”

If that's the problem, then Iwol knows the answer. 

“You can just go without me,” he tells him. 

Cheonghyeon gasps dramatically. “I'm not leaving you in the forest alone!” 

“It's okay—”

“It's not, and our leader would scold me if I abandoned the one who saved Kiyeon. So let's just go and walk quickly.”

Since Cheonghyeon is the one insisting, Iwol just shut his mouth. He doesn't want the boy to get in trouble either. 

So Iwol changes the topic instead. “You mentioned a leader? What do you mean by that, if it's alright to ask?” 

“I live with other dragons, including Kiyeon, and we have a leader who keeps us all on track.” 

Like a wolf pack, Iwol thinks. He assumed, and based on the fiction he knew, that dragons are solitary animals.

Iwol continues to ask Cheonghyeon questions about dragons. When else can he verify the information he got from the dragon conference he attended back then, if not now? 

And Cheonghyeon answered every single question happily. 

By the time they reach the end of the forest and Iwol can see a walled town from afar, he can probably build Dragon Encyclopedia Vol. 1 with the amount of conversation they held. 

Kiyeon is practically protesting the entire time by swishing his tail against Iwol, or Cheonghyeon when he's close enough. 

They enter the town together. Cheonghyeon talks to the guard at the entrance separately, and he wishes the boy isn't threatening the guard because Iwol can clearly see him sweating from afar. 

“We can go in now!”

Following Cheonghyeon inside the town, Iwol's arms turn tense as he keeps Kiyeon under the blanket. Cheonghyeon mentioned earlier, multiple times, not to let anyone know about them being dragons.

(“Then why did you tell me?”

Cheonghyeon looked at him with baffled eyes, as if he's asking something obvious.

“Well, you took care of Kiyeon, didn't you?”)

Cheonghyeon points toward them, to a large house near the edge of the walls. 

“That's our house!”

These dragons are rich, Iwol is sure of that. Aren't they hoarders of gold and jewelry in fiction?

“Do you also have a gold basement?” He asks jokingly. 

The dragon boy answers lightly. “Nope! Others may have it but we don't really need that.” 

So dragons really hoard them.

“But why do you not have one?” 

Cheonghyeon looks at him, eyes fluttering, before smiling brightly. 

“Because Cheonghyeon is more than enough!” 

…

The sunlight makes Cheonghyeon's blond hair more striking, and it reminds Iwol that the boy has golden feathers as a dragon. So indeed, he can be their dragon pack's gold stash.

“I see. You're right. You're more valuable than gold.” 

“I knew you'd understand, hyung!” 

Kiyeon's tail flicks underneath the blanket, complaining about their nonsense conversation taking place before him for the nth time. 

While Cheonghyeon's chatter never ends, Iwol observes the town. It's similar to what he saw in medieval fantasy adventure games. Brick-built houses, old towns, simple clothing (Cheonghyeon was right, he'd stand out if he didn't have the cloak). 

Before they could turn to another corner, someone comes running toward them. 

“Cheonghyeon…!”

He almost throws himself toward Cheonghyeon. 

“Joowoo-hyung!” 

Seeing that Cheonghyeon calls him familiarly, the man must be a dragon as well, most likely from the same pack as the two. The man has light white hair, and it has a fluffiness that reminds Iwol of his samoyed dog patients. He even looks like one actually.

“Where did you two go? You suddenly left without notice…” 

“That's because Kiyeon ran away!”

Joowoo, from what Iwol heard Cheonghyeon call him, glances at Iwol.

Or to his arms, in particular. 

“What about Kiyeon…? Is he injured?”

He reminds Iwol of Cheonghyeon when they first met—a crybaby. 

“A little, but I gave him first-aid,” Iwol answers briefly, not to make him worried. 

“Then let’s get back quickly…!”

Iwol learns that Joowoo is quite shy for a dragon. Cheonghyeon is a lively, unstoppable force, while Kiyeon is a persistent, immovable object. 

But Joowoo is shy. It's the first time he sees a shy dragon. Not like he knows and has seen dragons other than these three. 

“This is Joowoo-hyung,” Cheonghyeon introduces him to Iwol. 

“Hello, I'm Kim Iwol. You can address me comfortably.”

Joowoo looks younger than him, probably a young adult. But Iwol also knows that dragons (in fictions) have long lifespans. Even Cheonghyeon who looks like a young teenager can be older than him. (Although seeing as how he kept calling him ‘hyung’, then maybe he's really younger?)

“Uh, then… Iwol-hyung,” Joowoo says. 

He glances around them, then leans toward Iwol just close enough to whisper and have no one hear them. 

“Yes…?”

Joowoo asks him, his tone laced with hesitation. “You're not from this world, are you?”

Iwol's eyes widen. What of him gave it away that he's an outsider? Cheonghyeon even gave him a cloak to hide his clothes and remembering how the boy mistook him as a noble, there's nothing that tells he's not from here. 

“I have a sensitive nose…” Joowoo says and points at his nose. “You smell differently.”

It makes Iwol instinctively smell himself. “I mean, I tried to clean myself up with the stream but…”

“No, that's not what I mean…!” 

“Seongbin-hyunggg! I dragged Kiyeon back home!”

As soon as they enter a two-story house, Cheonghyeon loudly announces his entrance. 

“You're all back! Joowoo, you scared me when you suddenly ran out…” 

Iwol finally sees Seongbin, the dragon pack's leader who Cheonghyeon has been mentioning since earlier. 

He looks the same age as Joowoo, has brown hair that made him stand out next to the two who have lighter hair colors. Seongbin makes him wonder what kind of dragon he'd look like. 

“This…? Do we have a guest?” 

“This is Iwol-hyung! He helped Kiyeon when he got injured!”

At the mention of his name, Kiyeon peeks from the blanket. 

“If you can, I highly recommend that you get his wounds properly cleaned now,” he tells them. 

“Joowoo, can you take care of Kiyeon?”

“Yes!”

Iwol carefully hands the little dragon to Joowoo. Seongbin whispers to him more reminders and sends them off. Those teal eyes look at him one last time before he gets carried away from them. 

Now, it's just the three of them left.

“Cheonghyeon, you go as well. Get some rest.” Seongbin tells the boy. 

He looks at Iwol and Seongbin alternately before ultimately deciding to just follow what his leader tells him. 

“Then I'll go… Iwol-hyung, I'll see you later!”

When they hear a door closing, Seongbin calls him. 

“Should we go somewhere else?”

It's not the first time that a human entered their house. As dragons living in a town composed of humans, they have to mingle with them. It's an inevitable part of their lives. 

But it's the first time that a human enters their house knowing it's a dragons’ house. 

They settle down in the kitchen area where Seongbin serves him tea and biscuits. 

“I really appreciate that you helped Cheonghyeon and Kiyeon return. Thank you.” 

“It's not a big deal. Cheonghyeon helped me leave the forest, so we're equal.” Iwol answers him. 

Seongbin hasn't really heard the whole thing. All he knows is that this man saved Kiyeon and Cheonghyeon likes him, so he's going to act based on that for the meantime. 

“Still, I'd like to repay you. Is there anything you want?” 

He lays his eyes upon Iwol. He's wearing a familiar cloak, the one he bought for the youngest dragons—meaning Cheonghyeon must've given it to him. 

But he still can't put his trust on the man, not a single bit. 

He'll repay him once and send him away while the maknaes are not with them. And if Iwol's true nature shows at the repayment he requests, then Seongbin can handle him. 

The conflicts at home are keeping him on edge. The argument between Kiyeon and their eldest sent him into even more problems. He'll have to go after this conversation to see the eldest dragon. 

“Then…” Iwol slows to a stop, hesitating. 

“Do you know how I can go back to my original world?”

“... Sorry?” 

It's a repayment request unlike anything Seongbin ever thought of.

Iwol explains his situation, as briefly as he can. “This isn't where I'm originally from. Something pulled me in and when I woke up, I was in the forest.”

Hearing himself, it sounds too ridiculous, too fantasy-like. But a single glance at the window tells Iwol that it is indeed a fantasy. 

Seongbin remains quiet, thinking. Iwol wonders, was the story too ridiculous even for a dragon? If the creature known to be the most omniscient and omnipotent of all fantasy creatures doesn't even know how to deal with world-hoppers like Iwol, what else should he do?

Just as when Iwol is considering on pulling a “it's just a joke!” move, Seongbin finally gives him an answer. 

“I think I can help you with that.” 

What Seongbin tells him is straight up a fantasy novel plot. 

“It seems our worlds are connecting.”

Portals appear in this world and in Iwol's world, and they're connected. Hence, why Iwol is suddenly thrown here. 

“That doesn't make sense.”

Seongbin sighs, agreeing. “I know. It's too much of a problem.”

His solution for Iwol to return is simple. 

“I can help you get into one of those portals so you can return.”

Iwol barely suppresses himself from jolting. 

“Can't we go now?”

“We can but—”

He waits for no one. He's spent too much time here anyway. 

“Then let’s leave right away.” 

He has to go back. 

A clear solution pulls all his desire to go back home out of his heart. The moment he felt it was impossible for him to return, Iwol locked his feelings deep inside. 

Better not feel anything than feel despair and loneliness. 

Better be distracted than face his hopeless wishes. 

But Seongbin gave him a real, possible solution. From his words, it doesn't seem to be a difficult way. 

“Are you sure?” Seongbin asks him again. 

“Yes. There's no need to delay—unless it's going to cause an inconvenience to your side?”

He shakes his head to Iwol's question. “We can go immediately. Give me a moment to let Joowoo know that we're leaving. I'll be back quickly.”

As Seongbin leaves him alone in the kitchen, Iwol heaves a deep breath. 

The tea has gone cold, untouched, along with the cookies served to him. 

Will it be really that easy? To go from one world to another? 

Can he really go back? 

The thought of returning and seeing his sister again leaves Iwol's breath hitching. 

There are countless preparations that Seongbin made him do before they leave. 

“I’m sorry. We have to do this since we're keeping the location of the portals a secret…” 

Seongbin puts a blindfold over his eyes. 

“It might be uncomfortable but it'll be quick, hyung.” 

When it's tied in the back of his head, it's not only his sight that is taken. 

Iwol doesn't hear anything as well. The sugary smell of the biscuits disappeared too. 

It's too disconcerting. 

He wants to open his mouth, to call Seongbin but he can barely hear himself in his mind. 

Iwol has felt everything all at once before and is now experiencing how to feel nothing at all, and he'd rather die than be like this. It feels as if he's being drowned alive in an empty space, being drowned while being hollowed inside out. 

It reminds Iwol of the days he feels as if he's a container being drained out, of the days he can barely breathe because there's nothing inside him. 

He can't even feel himself move. Time seems to have stopped everything, including himself, and it's only his consciousness that is moving. And it feels more sickening because he feels too separated from his own body. 

“—hyung, do you hear me?”

There's a hand that pulls him out of his state and grounds him down. 

In front of Iwol is Seongbin, looking worried at him. Iwol first notices the intense green in his eyes, then the long, smooth horns on his head. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Uh, hold, hold on…”

He looks at his feet, flatly landed on concrete ground. He's not floating, not drowning, not anywhere. 

He can breathe easily now. 

“Sorry, it must've felt uncomfortable. Rest as much as you want for the meantime.” 

“No, I'm okay. We can go now.”

Seongbin's brows furrow at his words. “Are you sure you're okay?”

“Let's go now.”

He probably felt that Iwol won't give up so Seongbin yielded to him with a sigh. He leads the way to a place outside where they stand.

Iwol then realizes it's a cave, an enormous one. 

As soon as they enter, a loud growl greets them—and Iwol knows it's not a welcoming one. 

“Jeho-hyung, hold on!”

Before he realizes it, Iwol is down on the floor with a man pressing his arm against his chest. 

“Seongbin, why are you bringing a human here?” 

Jeho. This must be the last of the dragon pack members he hasn't met, the eldest. 

It's Iwol who answers him instead of Seongbin. 

“I'm looking for a way to go back to my world. Seongbin told me I could enter through the portals.”

Jeho doesn't move an inch. He throws a quick glance at Seongbin, asking for confirmation.

“Joowoo confirmed it as well,” Seongbin says to him. 

“What?”

“Iwol-hyung really is from another world. We can send him back through the portal.”

He may have let go of Iwol but Jeho keeps his eyes strictly on him, like watching a prisoner on the move. 

Like Seongbin earlier, Jeho's dragon features are more defined. He's a human with dragon body parts. His black horns are more rugged and pointed than Seongbin's, and it's a black deeper than Kiyeon's. 

Above all, there are black scales on his skin—on the arms that pushed him down, and on his temple. 

While Seongbin explains to Jeho, Iwol quietly follows them. His arm throbs in pain, reminding him of the tiny dragon that bit his arms just few days ago. 

The two dragons before him come to a stop, which puts Iwol's steps into a halt as well. He looks up, to where Seongbin just pointed. 

“That's the one, right?”

Jeho doesn't answer, but instead he looks at Iwol. 

“How can you be certain that it leads to your world?”

Iwol presses his lips. Jeho just really has to address the one thing he has been trying to ignore. The option Seongbin presented him is not guaranteed. The portals may bring him somewhere else, some place even worse as this world, some place where he might be alone—unlike in this world where he's lucky enough to have met these dragons. 

But Iwol can't just give up on his one and only available method.

“I think it’s still worth trying.” He tells Jeho. 

Jeho looks at him in a way that makes Iwol chuckle inwardly. He remembers what they said, that Kiyeon left because of an argument with the eldest. It leaves Iwol wondering what the two argued that made the younger run away—because the two are just similar with each other. 

In the end, it's Iwol's choice that they follow. 

It makes him feel weird. Ever since he fell in this world, things have been working in favor of him. Iwol isn't used to that. The life he lived forced him to bow his head down, or pushed him to go against the flow, which only ends up with him getting culled. 

But here, even when he faced hiccups (namely Kiyeon biting him and Jeho almost taking him out), things seem to be in his favor. 

Because frankly speaking, Iwol already believed he wouldn’t be able to go back. 

Jeho suddenly leaves and when he returns in a bit, he's carrying a familiar box. 

“This came out of that portal.” 

Iwol's arms are trembling when he receives the box from Jeho. Inside it are his office items and the work bag that he hasn't seen for days. 

And that reminds Iwol,

“Did you also see a black cat? It's small, just a little bigger than my palm.”

Jeho tilts his head. “I don't know what you're talking about, but that is all that came out of there.”

Can Iwol hope that it just means his little cat didn't get pulled here? 

Seongbin takes a look at the box he's holding. “Are these your things?”

“Yes. I was holding them when I suddenly got pulled here.”

“So the portals really are connected to your world!”

The end is more anticlimactic than Iwol expects. For something he thought was so impossible to do alone, Jeho's instruction for him is simple. 

“Just go inside.”

“Huh?”

Jeho repeats himself. “Just go inside.”

“No, I heard you clearly—I'm just confused.”

“What's so confusing about it? You just walk to the portal.” 

Even Seongbin is taken aback by Jeho's words. “Is it that simple? Really?”

“Yeah. That's why I'm keeping guard here.” 

So that is Jeho's role here, guarding the portals so nothing can go inside and come out without him knowing. Only except that Iwol passed through a portal but not here, which only implies there are more portals than the ones Jeho is guarding. 

In the cave, there are six portals, all in random spaces. Jeho walks him to the one in the corner. 

“That's where your things came out. You'll most likely come out to where you got pulled in.”

He reaches out to the portal, and he feels it fluctuate on his skin the way a fluid would. It stretches in his hand, sinks underneath him, trying to envelop what part of Iwol it could reach. 

Iwol looks back to the two dragons. “Thank you for helping me.”

Seongbin smiles lightly. “I didn't do much.”

Jeho only looks at him and crosses his arms. He lets out a short hum in response. 

“And please send my regards to Kiyeon and Cheonghyeon as well.” 

Iwol knows his memories are patchy. There are periods of his life that he can only vaguely remember, others he cannot even completely recall. 

Sometimes, he feels like some of his memories are just fever dreams. Like when he resigned in Hanpyeong clinics, or when he actually got thrown in another world and met five dragons. 

The first is real because he has to find a job in another city since Director Nam shared Iwol's information with his other friends in the same industry. 

And the second can't be a dream because the bite scar in his arm tells him. It's not the fangs of a cat or a dog, or any animal, but a dragon.

It's been weeks since he found himself in an alley in Seoul, the same way he found himself dropped in another world. He tries to keep his memories of that world vivid in his mind. Iwol doesn't trust his mind, so he turns to his reliable Microsoft Word app to record them.

Jeho

• A human male presumably in his late 20s, with dragon features

• Dragon features include long, smooth, straight black horns, scales in his arms and cheeks in black with different transparencies

Iwol's fingers come to a stop on the keyboard.

“He has a tail, doesn't he…?”

He vaguely remembers a long black tail, similar to a reptile's. Jeho probably is the dragon closest to a reptile among them five. Unfortunately, Iwol doesn't know what kind of dragon Joowoo and Seongbin are. Still, everything that Cheonghyeon shared to him made it possible for Iwol to at least make half of Realistic Dragon Encyclopedia Volume 1.

Lately, he has been thinking of them too much. He remembers Kiyeon who would snuggle on his side when the fire fluttered before them. He remembers Cheonghyeon's neverending chatter. He remembers Joowoo's attempts to make him comfortable despite being shy. He remembers Seongbin who asked him multiple times if he was really okay. And he remembers Jeho's eyes looking at him carefully.

His thoughts end when his senior calls him. 

“Iwol, should we close the clinic now?”

“Ah, yes! I'll handle the closing, Jukyung-sunbae.” 

“It's okay, it's faster if we do it together.”

The only clinic that hired him is in a city next to Seoul. It's two hours away from his apartment so he ended up selling it away and getting a new one. 

Surprisingly, Iwol doesn't feel upset. To quote his sister's words when he told her everything, it's a new start for him. He has a new job, a new place, and even a new companion at home. Iwol found his little kitten, now named Yoon, when he returned and decided to just take him after ensuring he didn’t have an owner.

While his senior Jukyung checks on their inventory, Iwol starts turning the appliances off. He grabs the remote of the television in the lobby, however before he can turn it off, the news suddenly comes on. 

[ Unidentifiable black spots have been observed in the sky, resembling black holes. ]

It looks too familiar, like the ones he saw next to Jeho. 

His heart skips a beat at the possibilities. If it’s the same portals, then could that mean—

On the television, a streak of white suddenly comes out on one of the portals. It shoots out like an arrow from a bow. 

They're here.