The Hedgehog Who Hid His Pain
"Huh? I've got mail."
It was an email from the Colorado Wild Animal Sanctuary.
Lee Jun clicked it open. A long message filled the screen, a video file attached at the bottom.
When he had finished reading, Lee Jun clicked the video.
A vast grassland unfurled across the screen. The Somang-is climbed trees, ambled through the open, and rolled across the grass as if the whole plain belonged to them.
"They're doing well."
Watching them settle into sanctuary life, Lee Jun felt a tangle of feeling pull through him. The thought of those bright, unguarded faces lifted his heart — and the thought of the Somang-is still left behind pressed it heavy again.
The ones still here need to feel the earth under their feet too. Soon.
The thought would not leave him. But he was not given time to dwell on it. There was far too much work waiting.
After Animal Praise had aired its consecutive specials on the Somang-is, Mongmong Animal Hospital had grown busier than ever.
"Kim, you and I both have a full surgery slate today," Lee Jun said that morning, scanning the schedule sheet as he came in. "You're going to be wiped. You didn't even get off until past nine last night."
Kim Jaeyeon smiled as he answered.
"You're the one who'll have it harder, Director. Mine are simple procedures. Yours aren't."
"Come on. There's no such thing as a harder surgery or an easier one. Once you're in the OR, everyone has to be locked in."
"That's true. Still — I'm glad you're back."
"Same here. The hospital's packed because you're here."
"It really is. This place was a ghost town while you were gone."
"The guardians would come in, get their appointments done, and leave. That was it."
"Even the playground wasn't drawing anyone."
"That's right. The animals would wander around inside looking completely drained, then go stand at the entrance and tap at the door. What were the guardians supposed to do? They just took them home."
It was unheard of.
A first-time visitor, maybe. But the animals who came to Mongmong Animal Hospital usually threw tantrums about leaving. Refusing to come out of the playground was standard. Plenty of them would clamp onto Lee Jun's leg and refuse to let go.
The old-timers were different, of course — Ttangkhongi, Mongi, Jamong, Kakkong-i. Those fixtures of the place still came at least twice a week to play. But even so: animals who treated this hospital like home, walking in and asking to leave the moment they arrived?
Lee Jun sat down at the table with a puzzled look, and Yeo Un-hyeok spoke up.
"It's true. They all went limp, as if they'd made a pact. It was a little better when Dr. Go was here, though."
"They did?"
"What'd I even do?" Go Gi-jin said at the same time. "It was those kids, I reckon."
The "kids" Go Gi-jin meant were Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree, currently staying in the inpatient ward.
"The trio did their part, no question," Yoo Mu-hwan said. "But Dr. Go held the whole atmosphere together. The guardians had a lot more to say, too."
Go Gi-jin waved the credit off with both hands.
"Aw, I didn't do a thing. Those kids all went straight to our trio. They came 'cause they wanted to see them, that's all."
Lee Jun smiled, watching him pass every ounce of credit to Hoesaegi, Gkamnyangi, and Sapsaree.
"Anyway — thank you, all of you. I'll work hard to catch up on everything that piled up while I was gone. So, Manager Jang, please put together a proper schedule for the staff who covered night duty and took on extra work in my place."
He added, after a beat:
"Everyone must be exhausted."
"No, we're fine. You had it the hardest, Director. We'll just work our regular hours."
"He's right. If anyone should rest, it's you. We're all right."
"If you push yourself until you collapse, that helps no one."
"Please don't overdo it, Director."
"I'll just stay on the original roster as well."
They were unanimous. They would simply keep working as they were.
Lee Jun was grateful — to his juniors, to his staff. He could feel how much they cherished Mongmong Animal Hospital.
He also knew this: Even if I told them to stay home and rest, they'd show up anyway. If that's the case, I should repay them some other way.
The best repayment he could think of was financial.
"Thank you. I'll take every bit of that kindness to heart."
Then he turned to Jang Sora with a new instruction.
"Calculate everyone's overtime at double — no, triple the rate."
Bonuses. Across the board.
"Yes, understood."
"Ah — no, Director, that's really not necessary."
"I'm fine as well."
Lee Jun grinned at the staff trying to refuse.
"Think of it as medicine in advance. This kind of thing may happen again, and I'll be counting on you then too."
Warmth sat full in his chest as he said it — the quiet pride of working alongside people this decent, this kind.
He looked at them still fidgeting, not knowing what to do with themselves, and picked up the coffee cup on the table. He had only meant to take a sip and ease the sudden awkwardness. The coffee, as it turned out, was genuinely excellent.
"I will never understand how Chef Joo's coffee tastes this good."
"Right? Tastes real good, don't it?"
Go Gi-jin echoed him, and the rest of the table followed, sipping their drinks as the meeting rolled on.
After the scheduled surgeries came the appointment roster. They bent over the tablets, debating who would take which case, until Lee Jun's eyes caught the last line on the list and he lifted his head.
Ttochi | Hedgehog | 2 years old | Male
Hind-limb paralysis
Status: Awaiting consultation
"Ttochi? Who's this one?"
"A hedgehog. The guardian called and said something serious seems to have developed. Apparently another hospital told them Ttochi might have an incurable disease. They said they'd come whenever we could fit them in — they just really wanted you to see him, Director."
Sick animals found their way to Mongmong Animal Hospital in a steady stream. Surgery bookings were backed up, and even a regular consultation meant waiting days.
"Sounds like he's in a lot of pain. Hedgehogs almost never let on that they're hurting."
Which meant the guardian would have had no idea Ttochi was ill — not until the legs gave out.
You poor thing. You must have been suffering all by yourself.
The thought of a hedgehog named Ttochi enduring that alone brought Haennim-i to mind — Haennim-i, who had groaned through the pain without a word. Perhaps that was why Lee Jun answered at once.
"We'll see him after clinic today."
If he could spare even a little time, he might be able to make this child hurt less.
"Director, you already have so many surgeries today."
Won't that be too much? That was what she meant.
"Even if I'm tired, am I more tired than Ttochi? Besides — Yoo's here."
Lee Jun looked over at Yoo Mu-hwan.
"Yoo's good with hedgehogs."
"Oh, is he?"
Jang Sora's face lit up.
"He handles exotic patients quite well. Hedgehogs and lizards, if I remember right."
Choi Woo-jin had mentioned it once — that there was a junior in internal medicine who took as much interest in exotic animals as he did. That junior had been Yoo Mu-hwan.
"I can manage them reasonably well."
"Good. I'll do the initial exam, and you'll take it from there. That all right, Yoo?"
"Of course."
Yoo Mu-hwan did not hide the confidence in his voice.
Lee Jun had an extremely busy day.
The moment the meeting ended he went into the operating room, and aside from a thirty-minute lunch around two in the afternoon, he spent the rest of his hours between the OR and the exam rooms.
At half past seven, Ttochi's appointment was the last one left.
"Ttochi's guardian? Come in, please."
Lee Jun greeted the person who entered carrying a small travel crate.
"Hello."
The smile Ttochi's guardian offered was awkward, and the voice behind it had no strength at all. The words that followed were just as thin.
"Thank you, Director. For agreeing to see our Ttochi. You must be exhausted."
"Not at all. What made you think Ttochi has WHS?"
Lee Jun had already read the intake form. The guardian had written that they were afraid Ttochi had wobbly hedgehog syndrome.
WHS — wobbly hedgehog syndrome — was a progressive, degenerative neurological disease. The body trembled when the animal tried to walk. Standing became difficult. The whole frame listed to one side. It began in the hind legs and, over time, crept through the rest of the body. The eyes could swell. The spine could twist. It was a terrifying illness — and more terrifying still, there was no clear treatment for it.
"For the past few days, Ttochi hasn't… been able to walk."
The guardian let out a long breath and sat with their head bowed. They stayed that way for some time.
Lee Jun waited in silence. So did Yoo Mu-hwan, seated beside him.
Guardians were almost always stunned, and then despairing, when they learned their companion animal had a serious disease. They might simply have been gathering themselves.
After a while, the guardian's hand moved. They began to stroke the travel bag Ttochi was in. And then the words came.
"Until last week he was scurrying around just fine. Actually — I can't say that for certain. I've been busy. But I was waking up at night to the sound of him on the wheel, so he must have been walking well. He was eating well, too."
Hedgehogs are nocturnal. They sleep through the day and come alive at night — so the sound of a wheel in the dark meant he had been active.
"I see."
"And then, last Friday, I came home and put out his food, and he came out of his pouch and just… fell over. He got up and tried to walk to me, and he kept falling. Over and over."
The pouch — a snuggle sack, the hedgehog version of a Hiding Cubby.
"I was so shocked I looked it up online, and it said WHS. It was too late to go to a hospital that night, so the next day I took him to the clinic near our house, and they said the same thing. That it was genetic. That his body would slowly stiffen."
Not in every case — but WHS was generally genetic, and it typically appeared around two years of age.
"Ttochi is two, so we can't rule WHS out."
The guardian's face darkened at once.
"But paralysis has a lot of other causes," Lee Jun went on. "Severe obesity alone can keep a hedgehog from walking."
The guardian seized on it immediately.
"Th-they can't walk if they're overweight?"
"In hedgehogs, obesity is a much more serious disease than people think."
"B-but our Ttochi isn't really overweight."
Lee Jun nodded and continued.
"Tumors can do it, too. If one presses on a nerve, the legs can go paralyzed."
"A t-tumor? You mean cancer?"
"We'll need to run tests. Many of them turn out to be benign."
"But we can't confirm anything without looking."
"Th-then what kind of tests?"
"We'll start with the basics. Blood work, X-rays, and then an ultrasound if we need to go further."
"Blood work — does that mean drawing blood?"
"That's right."
"B-but Ttochi is so small. How would you even…"
"The same way we always do. We draw it from a vessel."
Lee Jun's answer was so matter-of-fact that the guardian found themselves nodding along.
"P-please do whatever you have to. If you can just make Ttochi better, I'll do anything. Anything at all."
"Then shall we take a look at Ttochi first?"
The guardian opened the travel bag.
Inside, a large chestnut burr sat nestled in an orange pouch — a chestnut burr with its spikes standing straight on end.
The burr made a tiny sound.
Shik-shik-shik.
The quills lifted higher, bristling upward. I do not like this situation.
Lee Jun called to him in a low voice. He did not touch him. He only spoke.
"Ttochi. Have you eaten?"
Not does it hurt — have you eaten. That was how Lee Jun tried to begin.
Ttochi still did not lift his head. The quills stayed up. But the hissing stopped.
"You know, Ttochi, your quills are really. They're long, and sharp, and the color is handsome — and they shine. They really gleam."
A twitch. The cream-colored quills stirred.
He was pleased. Watching him shift, Lee Jun thought, Ttochi likes being told he's handsome, just like our kids.
Handsome. Beautiful. It was a universal language — and for animals, something close to a passport. Lee Jun reminded himself of that once more, and went on.
"Quills this magnificent — your face must be just as good-looking."
Sssssk.
Ttochi's body moved far more than it had a moment before. And then — there it was.
His face emerged.
A deep crease sat between his brows, and his nose was twitching.
"You're in a lot of pain, aren't you, Ttochi. Does your leg hurt? How does it hurt? Does it feel weak? Or like something's pressing down hard?"
Hoping Ttochi would catch his scent and grow used to him, Lee Jun eased a hand close.
That was when Ttochi made a sound.
Pyeek! Pi-pipipi!
A sharp cry — and Ttochi came toward Lee Jun's hand. He could not walk, so he rolled.
Ttochi's guardian and Yoo Mu-hwan both stared at Lee Jun, startled. Lee Jun gathered Ttochi into his hands.
In that instant, Lee Jun's eyes narrowed.