jiung has always been small. always been a soft, fluffy, orange colored hamster with boba for eyes. he wasn’t born in the wild or anything, he was born in a small, cozy pet shop where he lived in a glass enclosure full of wood shavings and spinning wheels. it wasn’t a bad life.

he was given to you on a cold winter day after a rough season of your life by a well-meaning friend.

“i know you’ve been feeling alone lately,” they’d said, gently placing the box in your arms. “he’s not much, but… maybe he’ll help a little.”

his name was already on the carrier: jiung

and boom, just like that, you weren’t alone anymore.

when your eyes met his, jiung swore—if he had a heart bigger than a jellybean, it would’ve flipped.

jiung loved being your hamster.

he’d watch you from his cage, tiny paws pressed to the bars whenever you sat at your desk. he’d do silly little spins when he saw you coming, because he knew it made you laugh. he’d let you feed him seeds from your hand, and he always climbed into your palm when you needed company during late-night crying sessions—even if you tried to hide it.

he noticed everything. your sighs, silences. the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore.

you’d been quieter. tired. staring at some weird glowing box and sighing a lot. Jiung had tried everything—sitting on your chest when you lay down, nibbling gently on your hoodie string, even spinning his wheel really fast to try and impress you. but the sadness in your eyes lingered.

something deep in his tiny hamster heart ached. he wished he could say something, do something, be something that could help you.

one night—curled up in his bedding, watching you sit hunched over your desk in silence—he made a wish so strong it sparked something deep in his tiny, magical core. he remembered one of the elder hamsters saying something about being able to transform if they wished hard enough, so why not give it a try?

”please turn me human! i just want to help! i’ll do anything!”

and something answered. the air shimmered, faintly. his body warmed from the inside out. he felt a strange pull—like he was stretching, shifting, unfolding from himself. in the blink of an eye, Jiung was no longer tiny.

it was early morning and you were curled on your bed when you heard it—the soft clink of the cage door swinging open. jiung, now a boy stood in your room. tall. barefoot. soft ginger hair, oversized hoodie that looked like yours, warm eyes that somehow felt familiar.

as gently as he could, he draped a blanket over your shoulders and knelt beside your bed. his fingers brushed your hair back from your face. you stirred, groggy and confused, blinking into his warm brown eyes. uh oh. stranger. you thought.

“AAAHHHHH!”

“what? what’s going on?”

“WHO ARE YOU?!”

“what?”