Plin Ch 3.5

Plin’s body, which had been swaying as if he were exercising, swayed a little less. The snowflake-shaped firework spread out in radial lines, spreading golden threads in the dark sky.

“To fix me.”

“Yes?”

“I’m broken. Fox, will you fix me?”

“Pfft… A broken executive director.”

At Hugo’s unexpected confession, Plin laughed helplessly. Hugo was also surprised that he could be so honest with a fox. It must be because Plin was drunk.

“And when I see you, it’s fun.”

“You think I’m fun? I’m not fun.”

“You’re like an ant carrying a cookie crumb, working hard, heave-ho. I want to give you sugar sometimes.”

He seemed a little cute. Like a father with a well-raised child. It was a bit too much fun to be just looking at a commoner…

“I see. Cookies. Sugar? Heave-ho…”

With his forehead leaning against Hugo’s shoulder, Plin nodded. He seemed too drunk to function, but the fox’s appearance was a bit strange. His white fur, with just his nose red, looked like a strawberry shortcake. Hugo suddenly looked down at the fox’s tail. It was wagging softly, more gently than he had ever imagined. As the fluffy tail wagged, the snow that was stuck to the fur also scattered.

A vibration suddenly resonated from their bodies, which were touching. It was the sound of Plin’s stomach, who had eaten well for dinner but had used up all his calories from working too hard.

“Our darling is really full of surprises.”

“Surprises…”

Plin laughed again, repeating Hugo’s words. Hugo stopped himself from smiling along for a moment, but since no one was watching, he smiled brightly.

“You look handsome…”

Plin spoke his honest thoughts as if he were possessed. The center of his pink upper lip was like a bud. Would it feel like biting into that bud, or would it slip away between his teeth because it was slippery? While being praised for his appearance, Hugo slowly traced Plin’s face with his eyes.

His smooth forehead was lightly shiny, and his eyebrows were neatly arranged, each strand in place. The most noticeable feature of the fox’s facial features was definitely his large ears, and even before he could tell what expression he was making, his ears were already making a fuss, telling him to look here.

But his eyes were no less unique. While the inner corners of his eyes were sharply angled, his eyes were round. Because of this, he had a fairly innocent impression when he had a blank expression.

“My tummy’s hungry…”

When he lowered his head slightly and smiled with his eyes…his eyes narrowed, making him look ‘fox-like’. It had the kind of innocent, boyish look that made people stare at his smiling lips.

As he rubbed his flat stomach, embarrassed, Hugo felt a certain thrill. Like a fluorescent light that had gone out, his mind went on and off, flashing.

“Yeah… Let’s eat.”

He mumbled mechanically, as if refusing to think any further.

For Hugo, the fox’s health was paramount. According to research, the average lifespan of the fox race was 20 years shorter than that of the dragon or dragonewt race. Therefore, if he didn’t want to be left alone in pain, he had to do his best to extend the fox’s lifespan. Of course, that was assuming that the fox would be by his side for the rest of his life.

While Hugo was deep in thought, Plin suddenly turned around and started walking briskly on his own. Although, one foot was trying to go left and the other was trying to go right, so he was staggering with his legs wide apart.

“Whoa…”

“How can you be so drunk on just mulled wine?”

Hugo caught the stumbling Plin in his arms from behind. The worn-out padding rustled. The coldness of the winter wind was fully absorbed by the fur, which touched his lips and tickled them. A couple of times, he suppressed the urge to kiss the top of his head, which was visible below him.

Hugo took off his coat and covered the fox’s shoulders with it. Even though he was wearing padding, the padding was so worn out, and the coat, tailored to fit Hugo’s thick frame, was quite large and covered the fox’s entire body.

“What about you, Executive Director?”

“Yeah, I’m freezing. Let’s hurry up and eat some sausages.”

Hugo evaded the question and hid his embarrassment. Had he ever been this selfless in his 23 years of life? He found it hard to understand himself, but for some reason, he wanted to comfort the fox’s arduous day, even just a little.

“Thank youuu.”

Plin replied with a lisp, skillfully slipping his arms into the sleeves and buttoning up. There were only four buttons, but even that was too much for him to handle in his current state.

“Look at you, ugh.”

Hugo unbuttoned each of the buttons that Plin had fastened incorrectly and fastened them again. At a glance, it looked like he had just picked up someone else’s clothes and put them on, and the luxurious material looked very out of place on the fox.

Hugo took off his muffler and wrapped it around him. As the exposed nape of his neck began to feel the cold, a chill ran down his spine. The unique, persistent cold of a humid day permeated his entire body, but he felt a sense of fullness and warmth just from seeing the fox relax his ears and wag his tail while wearing his clothes.

Hugo held Plin, who was staggering, by the hand and walked as if embracing him.

The grand fireworks display was the highlight of the festival that day. After the short 15-minute spectacle, only hazy smoke and the smell of gunpowder lingered in the sky.

After the highlight, the decline was inevitable. It was close to midnight, and the family-oriented spectators were now few and far between. The stalls were closing up shop one by one, and the scene was chaotic.

The lights that filled the square gradually diminished and became darker. Most of the people who remained at the festival until this late hour were couples holding each other’s hands.

The rapidly emptying street became rather cozy.

The dragonewt and the fox annihilated, in turn, a sausage stall, a kebab stall, and a cinnamon roll stall that had not yet closed and were organizing their remaining ingredients. To be precise, Hugo did.

“I think you probably ate dinner already…”

“If you’re drunk, your grammar gets messed up? I ate already. You ate too.”

Hugo, who had devoured six palm-sized cinnamon rolls and was picking up his seventh, said confidently. He was also paying for all the remaining food at this stall, clearing out their stock.

Plin looked at the taut chest wrapped in a white dress shirt. He had already eaten a lot, where was it all going? Was it his chest muscles?

“I think I know what the cheap charm is now that I’ve been exposed to so much junk food.”

“You can hear me…”

Plin was mindful that the owner might be offended by his comment about the food being junk. White steam rose from the makeshift stove and scattered in front of the stall. Plin looked at the mountain of cinnamon rolls in front of the executive director with a hazy mind. He sleepily took one and started to nibble on it too.

“It’s sweet…”

The freshly baked cinnamon rolls were sweet, fluffy, and warm. The white sugar coating on the surface stuck to his front teeth, and the sweet cinnamon scent immediately filled his nose.

“Why are you nibbling? You said you were hungry.”

“I’m full, and sleepy.”

He wondered why his body leaned to one side and why his eyelids were so heavy. His coat and muffler were wrapped around his body, and the air around him was warm.

He had a distant memory of someone taking care of him. It was so warm when someone took off his coat for him. It felt like cute green sprouts were sprouting in his desolate heart.

Plin held the warm cinnamon roll in both hands and tried to keep his eyes closed for just three seconds. The last thing he remembered was his lips being covered with something moist and hot, and he fell asleep.

***

Ding! Ding!

He was gathering the items he had left behind yesterday and organizing the sales slips when the message alerts sounded loudly, one after another.

[Photo] [Photo] … [Photo] [Photo] [Photo]

The sender was Hugo. Plin immediately checked the messages. They were photos of last night’s festival, taken by him.

Among them were the strange snowman Hugo had made (which he insisted was a fox), the entrance to Plin’s stall, the street food they had eaten together, and a picture of Plin’s back, walking with a waddling gait while wearing his coat, though he didn’t know when it was taken.

Plin saved the photos by pressing down on them.

He didn’t know how he got home last night, but he had woken up in his own bed, having slept soundly and warmly. It had been a good night’s sleep.

He wondered if he would get another message besides the photos, but he only sent photos and didn’t say anything else.

10:30 Thank you. Can I post these photos on my Zoostagram? 10:30 By the way, Executive Director, how did you get home yesterday? Did you give me a ride? Thank you. 10:31 Thank you for coming yesterday 10:31 I keep saying thank you ^0^ But I was really happy and grateful yesterday 10:31 It’s a good Saturday.

He sent a series of messages, but he was busy and didn’t reply. He wasn’t always quick to reply, but he checked the messages after 5 minutes and replied after 10 minutes.

What’s your Zoosta address? 10:41

10:41 It’s plin_fox_love_plin! Can I use the photos?

<H_Idrohann(@H_Idrohann) started following you.>

The push notification came almost immediately, within a few seconds. Plin mostly used Zoostagram for business, so he couldn’t quite imagine Hugo using social media.

Curious, he went to his Zoosta and saw that he had just joined, as he had only 1 following, 0 followers, and no posts.

“He must have just joined.”

Plin looked at his simple Zoosta for a moment and then went to his own. He wondered if there might be anything embarrassing posted that he might see.

His story had a promotional post that read, <Today is the second day of the City Forest’s specialty, the Snow Festival! Plin’s Fox Love Drink is also going! Were you sad that the drinks and candy sold out quickly yesterday? Don’t worry, I brought more today! See me at booth F4-23!>

Other than that, there were pictures of herbs taken with an aesthetic touch, pictures of the basket, pictures of his commute… There didn’t seem to be anything problematic.

While Plin was looking through his Zoosta, another message came with a ding!

Yes 10:46

10:46 Thank you. Did you get home safely yesterday?

Now that he had permission, he uploaded the photos he had taken at the festival yesterday, along with the ones he had received from him. Perhaps because his phone was the latest model, the photos he had received from him looked atmospheric.

He obviously uploaded the photo of the stall entrance, and although the snowman photo was unrelated to his business, he just wanted people to feel the atmosphere of the festival, so he uploaded it. Just in case, he cropped the photo to only show the work and edited it so that the name of the entrant was not visible.

<H_Idrohann(@H_Idrohann) likes your photo.> <H_Idrohann(@H_Idrohann) likes your photo.> <H_Idrohann(@H_Idrohann) likes your photo.> <H_Idrohann(@H_Idrohann) likes your photo.> My Story – 1 person viewed H_Idrohann

“He checked it right away.”

But he still didn’t reply to his messages. He seemed to be on Zoostagram right now, so he wondered if he would follow anyone else and went back to his Zoosta.

“Oh…”

In just a few minutes, Hugo’s followers had already grown to 1247, and his following was still 1. Also, he had made one post.

It seemed to be the executive director’s desk, and there was a photo of a single bottle of Fox Love Drink on a large desk that could have seated two people. Judging by the light illuminating the desk, it seemed to have been taken just now.

H_Idrohann What I like. View all 317 comments

“Wow…”

Plin bit his lip slightly. He felt purely happy, like a child who had received a great compliment. Plin pressed like and enjoyed the feeling of not being hungry even though he hadn’t eaten.

The words ‘what I like’ floated around in his mind like an image. The floor was cold, and there was a draft, but it felt like the warmest winter ever.