Little Pink Starfish

As he got out of the car and arrived at the broadcasting station, Ebi scanned the area with narrowed eyes. He was checking to see if Saeon might be hiding among the stalkers or obsessive fans.

He didn’t come today…

It was a relief, and yet Ebi felt a twinge of disappointment as he walked into the building. Lately, he couldn’t understand his own feelings at all. He was confused at every moment—what exactly was he hoping for from Saeon? As he greeted security and tapped his ID card, the fans faded into the background. He set his thoughts of Saeon aside and checked the simple script for the show.

As always, the talk show was fairly fun, but after talking so much, his throat was dry. Dongjitdal and Sowol were nowhere in sight. Dongjitdal had been drowsy through the whole recording and probably went to take a nap—with Sowol disappearing to keep an eye on him.

[Show’s over. I’m gonna stop by the bathroom real quick before I go.]

Ebi tapped out a message with his fingers and headed for the restroom. Unlike humans, he didn’t strictly need to excrete anything, but when living among humans, mimicking their habits usually prevented trouble.

[Stopping by the café. Anyone want anything?]

They weren’t human, of course, but calling them “people” had become a habit. They weren’t yokai either, so there wasn’t a great substitute term. Sowol replied shortly after—Dongjitdal was probably still asleep.

[I’ll just take a Coke.]

[What about Dongji?]

[He’s sleeping. Didn’t sleep last night—was gaming till morning.]

[Not that he can beat my rank anyway!]

The gaming rivalry between those two had gotten intense lately. Ebi was starting to worry about Dongjitdal’s addiction, not just Sowol’s. He tried texting a gentle suggestion to take a break and try other things, but then—

Thud. Ebi, not watching where he was going, bumped into someone.

“Ah, sorry…”

He looked up to apologize—and froze. Saeon was standing right in front of him. Ebi was startled, but thanks to his 500+ years of life, barely managed not to scream. He hadn’t expected to see him here and reflexively stepped back. Before he could smack his head on the wall, Saeon reached out and supported the back of his head.

“Tha–thanks… No! What are you doing here!?”

“I was observing you.”

Saeon said it casually, then asked seriously, looking curious:

“Do dokkaebi go to the bathroom?”

“I’m in human form, so I’m just pretending to go!”

Whatever he’d been expecting, Saeon looked disappointed with the answer. Ebi quickly glanced around. Fortunately, the bathroom was empty.

Saen was still holding the back of Ebi’s head, so he shifted away. Seeing this, Saeon lowered his hand.

“How’d you even get in here?”

Ebi checked every stall as he questioned him. A broadcasting station wasn’t a place just anyone could enter. Security was tight, what with reporters and obsessive fans lurking about.

“It wasn’t that hard. I paid my way in.”

Saeon said it in the same tone he used when he’d bought a fan meeting ticket. Ebi suddenly wondered how much money Saeon had. Judging from that rundown hanok, it was impossible to guess. Did he not have much? Or was that just his taste?

“So, how’s the observation going?”

“I still don’t get it. I don’t know how to catch you. Don’t even know your weak points…”

Saeon naturally reached out and touched Ebi’s face. Ebi was about to tell him to stop but stayed quiet. He squinted and looked Saeon up and down—his eyes met Saeon’s black irises as they meticulously scanned his face.

“You… have you been hunting dokkaebi recently?”

“What would I do something so pointless for?”

Saeon said, still fiddling with Ebi’s hair. Ebi was just about to complain when Saeon pulled back. For some reason, Ebi felt a little disappointed. Then he remembered—wasn’t there something he needed to say?

“I really enjoyed the talk show today.”

“…Thanks?”

Ebi replied, flustered by the completely unexpected comment. Then Saeon pulled something from his sling bag and handed it to him.

“What’s this?”

Ebi took it without thinking, blinking in confusion. Saeon replied nonchalantly, “You looked thirsty,” and left the bathroom. When Ebi stepped out after him, Saeon was nowhere to be found. Staring down at the drink, Ebi suddenly remembered—he was supposed to ask about the bell on his ankle.

Back at Dobi Entertainment, Ebi sat for a long time just staring at the bottle. Late at night, he finally opened it and took a cautious sip.

It was just regular sikhye.

But the one who gave it was far from regular.

From then on, Saeon kept showing up in the most unexpected places. The way he appeared and vanished was ghostlike.

One day, Ebi went to a convenience store for snacks. After paying and turning around, Saeon was right behind him. While Ebi clutched his chest in shock, Saeon calmly paid for his own stuff and handed him a red bean jelly.

Another day, Ebi was on a bench smoking when Saeon casually showed up, surprising him again—and handed him a few acorns and chestnuts that smelled like the mountains.

The day after that, Ebi was walking home after drinking with some humans when Saeon suddenly approached from behind and gave him two tangerines.

Several days later, Ebi was no longer startled. When Saeon popped out from behind a tree, he calmly scolded him.

“You stalker.”

His eyes automatically drifted to Saeon’s hand. Like Pavlov’s dog, just seeing the object there made his mouth water. For someone who claimed not to be a hunter, Saeon sure knew what dokkaebi liked.

“My name is Yoo Saeon.”

Saeon said blankly, like he didn’t even know what a “stalker” was. He held out a white paper bag. Ebi opened it without thinking. Inside was a warm, soft susu-tteok (millet rice cake) covered in fine breadcrumbs. As always, Ebi had doubts—but this one he couldn’t resist.

Inside the steaming tteok was sweet red bean paste, generously filled. Before he knew it, he had devoured it in seconds.

“Where’d you get this?”

Ebi looked at the empty plastic wrapper with regret. Oddly, Saeon didn’t leave right away this time. Leaning against a tree, he answered:

“I made it.”

Ebi’s eyes widened. You? Why would a hunter make such good tteok? Truly, he was a bizarre hunter. And it was honestly the best millet tteok Ebi had ever eaten.

As a dokkaebi who’d received such a gift, Ebi dug through his pocket. He pulled out a nugget of gold the size of a chestnut and handed it to Saeon.

“What’s this for?”

“It’s dokkaebi tradition to give gold when treated nicely.”

He expected Saeon to refuse like always—but this time, Saeon simply stared at it, then walked forward instead of taking it.

“I’ll take something else instead.”

Before Ebi could even ask what, Saeon kissed him. His tongue pushed into Ebi’s surprised mouth and boldly ravished him. Still dazed, Ebi found himself unconsciously returning the kiss—until he finally came to his senses and shoved Saeon away.

His face flushed red with outrage.

Ebi crossed his arms and glared, speaking firmly.

“If you give me another one of those rice cakes, I might let you kiss me again.”

If the tteok was that good, kisses could be traded freely. Besides, kissing Saeon—while rude—wasn’t exactly unpleasant.

“I don’t have one today… but I’ll make more and bring them.”

Just hearing that was enough to make Ebi’s heart flutter—but only because he was excited about the rice cake. Feeling all warm and squishy, Ebi sat down by Saeon’s feet and looked up at him in the sunlight. He was definitely strange—but maybe not a bad hunter.

Ebi hoped Saeon would stay interested in rare day-dokkaebi like him for a long time. Not because he liked him—just so he could keep getting soft, warm rice cakes…

“You’re not leaving right away today?”

Trying to shake off his thoughts, Ebi asked. Saeon looked like he had something to say. Since he’d brought delicious tteok, Ebi gave him a friendly look, inviting him to speak. Saeon lowered his eyes with a faintly troubled expression.

“I realized something from watching you lately.”

“That’s called stalking, not watching.”

“Someone’s following you.”

“…Are you talking about yourself?”

Saen shamelessly looked innocent. It was the same blank look as if he really didn’t understand the concept of stalking.

“Counting those who follow you on and off, about six people. Doesn’t seem like hunters or yokai.”

“I think I know who you mean. There’ve been some who’ve been following me since forever.”

Ebi nodded, thinking back. Several stalker-level fans immediately came to mind—one who’d followed him even before his debut, one who showed up like clockwork, one who showered him with excessive gifts.

“Some of them are kind of cute… but also kinda annoying…”

“They annoy you?”

“More or less.”

Ebi liked humans, but obsessive fans often gave “EbiOne” a hard time. Some even saw and heard things they shouldn’t have—Sowol had to erase memories a few times. Still, Ebi was a dokkaebi. As long as they weren’t yokai or hunters, most humans couldn’t hurt him.

After thinking deeply, Saeon nodded.

“Got it.”

“…Got what?”

Ebi asked, suddenly uneasy.

But by then, Saeon had already vanished without a sound.

It wouldn’t be long before Ebi found out what Saeon’s “Got it” actually meant.