Little Pink Starfish

For several days, Saeon didn’t show up. During those days, Ebi kept thinking about the warm, soft, and delicious rice cakes he’d given him. Just like how thinking of Saeon reminded him of the rice cakes, thinking of those treats also brought up the rude but tender kisses—and Ebi felt a little down. It still felt like he was the only one who liked Saeon.

If I’m a monster he likes, maybe we can at least be friends?

Even if he was a strange hunter, from what Ebi had seen, Saeon didn’t seem like the kind of hunter driven by revenge or malice. But the more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it felt to be friendly with a hunter at all. Weren’t there disasters in the past when dokkaebi got too close to humans? And this one was a hunter.

Still, Ebi figured it wouldn’t hurt to stay like this—at least until Igok found out. With that thought, he trudged toward the convenience store where he usually bought cigarettes.

Just before reaching the store, he stopped in his tracks. He tilted his head and looked around.

There was always that stalker watching me from over there whenever I went to the store…

Was he sick or something? Why wasn’t he here today…?

A bit worried, Ebi stepped into the convenience store. He quickly bought a big batch of cigarettes to share with the other dokkaebi. As he stepped back outside, he heard a strange groaning sound.

He suddenly felt déjà vu. It reminded him of the night he first met Saeon.

“Uuhhh… Please, help me, please…”

He stopped walking and strained to listen. Somewhere nearby, someone was begging for their life. There were also thud, thud, thud—the sound of someone being beaten. Ebi stuffed the rustling cigarette packs into his pockets and cautiously moved toward the sound. If someone was being attacked, he planned to step in.

Gotta be careful… there might be blood…

Turning into a dark alley, he found someone savagely beating a person who’d fallen to the ground. He opened his mouth to shout What the hell are you doing?!—then stopped.

The two figures were familiar.

“Sa… Saeon?”

He muttered without meaning to. Somehow, Saeon heard him and stopped mid-movement. Without even turning around, he kicked the unconscious man hard in the head. It was the same stalker who had always been following Ebi. The man convulsed, foaming at the mouth, and passed out.

Ebi was horrified.

“Ahh! What are you doing right now!?”

“Just making sure he can’t follow you anymore.”

Saen pulled down his black mask and hood and walked out from the shadows. His face looked as blank as ever, but under the streetlight, his dark eyes gleamed. Thankfully, there was no blood on him, but the whole scene made Ebi feel dizzy as if there had been.

“You can’t just… make people behave like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because people shouldn’t hit other people!”

Ebi struggled to stay calm and explained something even a child should know. But Saeon looked genuinely puzzled. After a moment, he asked again:

“Why?”

Ebi was starting to be scared of that word.

“Because it hurts them when you hit them!”

“…Didn’t hurt me.”

Saen glanced at his own large, calloused hand. The conversation had been off the rails for a while, and Ebi patted his chest in frustration.

“Not your hand—his body!”

Saen had the expression of someone who didn’t care whether the guy was hurt or not. The stalker groaned in pain. At least he was still alive.

The more Ebi talked with Saeon, the more he realized how off this guy’s common sense was. Maybe it wasn’t even a common sense issue.

“But you said he was bothering you.”

“Yeah, but I never said I wanted him beaten to a pulp…”

Saen frowned, as if that made no sense. But the one who wanted to frown was Ebi. He spoke in a calm tone, trying to reason.

“If you hit someone, the police might arrest you.”

“Only if they catch me. I always avoid CCTV. And even if they do, it’s fine. I’ll just make them quiet.”

Saen said it in a chilling voice. “Make them quiet” probably meant the same thing as “make them behave.” Honestly, for a hunter who took down an earth dragon, silencing a human cop would be nothing.

“Did you really do this just because that guy was bothering me?”

Ebi asked suspiciously. No matter how he thought about it, it didn’t seem like Saeon had beat the stalker up out of kindness or concern.

Saen stared coldly at the twitching body in the alley and said,

“No one’s allowed to catch you before I do.”

“…Yeah, thought so.”

He hadn’t done it because the guy was annoying Ebi. That was just an excuse. He didn’t want anyone interfering with his hunt.

“Just so you know, normal humans could follow me around all day and still not touch me.”

“I know. But I didn’t like the way he looked at you. It was creepy.”

Saen looked like he wanted to go back and finish the job. Ebi opened his mouth to say something—then closed it again. His lips twitched, trying not to smile, and stiffened. Somehow misunderstanding this, Saeon stared at his face and asked,

“Are you mad again?”

“…Maybe.”

Ebi replied curtly, unsure if he was angry or… pleased. Saeon blinked at him, then rummaged through his pockets.

“No rice cakes today…”

Despite being strong enough to take down yokai, this hunter was oddly cute—and Ebi bit his lip to hold back a laugh.

“What’ll you do to make it up to me?”

He’d almost said he wasn’t really mad—but a good idea popped into his head. He dug in his pocket and pulled out the scroll of hunter portraits Arang had given him.

“Have you seen any of these humans before?”

Saen quietly examined the drawings. His calm eyes studied the faces one by one.

“Who are they?”

“They’re the bad guys who kidnapped our kids—dokkaebi.”

“Never seen any of them.”

“…I see.”

Ebi had hoped Saeon, as a fellow hunter, might know something, especially since there was supposedly a Hunter Association. Disappointed, he tucked the scroll away.

He glanced at the unconscious stalker. He was probably bleeding—Ebi couldn’t help directly since he was a dokkaebi.

“Can you at least move him somewhere people will find him?”

Thankfully, Saeon silently complied. He carried the half-dead man out to a place where someone would eventually notice.

Then Saeon said,

“I’ll make it up to you next time.”

Ebi was about to say I’m not mad anymore, but didn’t. Instead, he found himself curious—what will he do to make it up? Maybe he’d bring a lot of rice cakes? Ebi nodded slightly.

Saeon reached out. Ebi didn’t move. A calloused finger brushed his cheek.

It touched his face—but left warmth in his chest.

Saeon pulled back and disappeared into the dark, masked and hooded again. Watching him vanish, Ebi thought:

If he brings me more rice cakes… maybe I’ll let him kiss me more too.

🍬

“Igok-nim, would you pick the one you like best from this list?”

Ebi smiled sweetly and held out a sheet of paper. Igok, lazily slouched in a smoke-made chair, looked annoyed as he puffed his pipe.

“What is this?”

“I need some gold… So I was thinking of doing a little investing…”

Ebi replied shyly. No matter how he looked at it, he couldn’t find the missing dokkaebi or catch the hunters himself. That meant taking gold to Arang and asking her directly. But to make enough money fast, he needed the Wandering King’s jibok luck. So here he was, fluttering cutely in front of the king. If Igok picked something, it wouldn’t be a total loss.

Igok sighed and smoked, but Ebi didn’t back down. He had even shaken down the other dokkaebi for their spare gold—snack money included.

“I’ll handle the investigation myself.”

“But… five are gone…”

“I don’t like handing over gold to that fox.”

Still, Igok randomly stabbed a finger at one of the listings without looking. Ebi quickly circled it with a red pen. The office workers watching from behind scattered with a sacred investment pick in hand.

Ebi didn’t stop there. He sheepishly handed over a lottery slip. Igok frowned but picked a few numbers. Ebi tucked the slip away like a precious treasure.

As king, Igok protected and watched over the dokkaebi—but it was duty, not sentiment. Unlike Ebi, he didn’t show much visible concern. If a dokkaebi died, he’d be angry—but not sad. His gaze, turned to the window again, was indifferent and lazy.

Ebi sometimes felt Igok lacked something essential. Igok tapped his pipe and muttered bitterly:

“Everything’s a hassle. I want to drop it all.”

…Or maybe it was just how he was born. Ebi slowly leaned his head near Igok’s hand. As if natural, Igok began stroking his head. The tension in his expression slowly melted away.