Little Pink Starfish

Maybe because of their connection in a past life, Ebi and Eun-jun became close very quickly, despite not having known each other long. Lately, even reporters and Ebi’s fans had noticed their closeness, and it had even been mentioned in a few articles.

While chatting happily with Eun-jun and finishing his makeup, it soon became time for their scene. Today’s shoot was a scene of two close scholar friends sitting in a pavilion, enjoying the scenery and discussing recent events.

Once seated at the pavilion, Eun-jun’s manager brought out a geomungo (traditional Korean zither). It wasn’t a prop from the set—it was Eun-jun’s personal instrument. Before the shoot, Eun-jun gave a brief practice performance with skill. Ebi stared blankly at him playing. The more he watched, the more Seonbi-nim came to mind.

When the piece ended, the quietly listening crew burst into applause. Eun-jun bashfully touched the brim of his gat(traditional Korean hat). The director looked especially pleased.

“I practiced, but I haven’t played in a while, so I’m a bit rusty.”

“What do you mean? It sounded great! Eun-jun, did you major in geomungo or something?”

“No, my older sister learned a lot of instruments, so I picked things up beside her.”

Eun-jun answered modestly. Historically, the geomungo was a refined hobby enjoyed by the upper class, and one of the six arts a scholar had to learn. Naturally, Ebi’s Seonbi was a master at it. More than just skilled—his playing moved hearts so deeply that even noble guests would come late at night with guards just to hear it.

The filming began in earnest, but Ebi, overwhelmed by surging memories, momentarily lost control of his expression. Though he quickly composed himself, the director immediately shouted, “Cut!” Ebi flinched and apologized.

“I’m sorry. I lost focus for a moment.”

“No worries. You’ve been filming well so far—it’s normal to lose focus. Should we take a break?”

“No, I’ll keep going.”

Ebi shook his head, brushing away thoughts of Seonbi. Thankfully, the rest of the shoot went smoothly, but his gaze kept drifting toward Eun-jun.

“Biwon-ssi.”

After the shoot, while returning his costume and wiping off makeup, Eun-jun approached with a smile and handed him a small neatly wrapped box. Ebi accepted it, confused.

“What’s this?”

Inside was a luxurious ceramic container. When he opened it, a strong scent of high-quality dried tea leaves wafted out.

“You’ve seemed kind of troubled lately… When I’m feeling low, just smelling tea makes me feel better. I hope it suits your taste. Do you know how to brew tea?”

Caught off guard by the unexpected gift, Ebi’s eyes and mouth rounded. The leaves had a subtle color and no burned edges—just looking at them showed their quality.

“Of course! I love tea. I know how to brew it well, too.”

Of course he did—tea ceremony was one of the things Seonbi had taught him. Even after over 500 years, the time he spent with Seonbi remained vividly in his mind. Yokai never forget things, especially precious memories.

“Just in case, I picked a mild green tea, but I’m glad you like it.”

“Thank you. I always seem to just be receiving things from you.”

“It’s just tea—no big deal.”

After expressing his gratitude multiple times, a delighted Ebi hugged the tea close to him and returned. Dongjitdal and Sowol, seeing the gift, looked curious.

“What’s that you’re holding?”

“Is that… tea leaves?”

Even before Ebi opened the container, Dongjitdal had sniffed out the faint scent and identified it. Ebi proudly showed off the gift, then carefully tucked the tea into his pocket.

“It smells really good.”

Dongjitdal, who rarely praised anything, actually looked pleased and sniffed it again.

“I’ll make a nice cup for everyone back at the company.”

“Sounds good. But Ebi—there’s some guy over there who’s been staring at you for a while. Is it one of those stalkers again? Should I go deal with him?”

Stalker? Lately, stalkers had been decreasing, so Ebi was confused and looked back. Then he froze on the spot, startled. Saeon was standing at a distance, quietly watching him.

Today’s shoot had ended earlier than expected, so Ebi had no idea how long Saeon had been waiting. As soon as their eyes met, Saeon began walking over. Keeping his eyes locked on him, Ebi gestured to Dongjitdal.

“Hey, Dongji. Do you know how long he’s been waiting there?”

“No clue. Maybe since you were plucking at the geomungo in the pavilion?”

Realizing he had probably been waiting for quite some time, Ebi was surprised. He hadn’t sensed Saeon’s presence at all.

Today, Saeon wasn’t dressed in his usual all-black. He wore dark blue ankle-length pants and a white dress shirt, with his hair neatly cut, revealing his nape—a look that felt refreshingly new. Even the row of silver shaman tools on his ear looked like fashionable accessories.

“Ebi.”

Ignoring Dongjitdal’s wary stare, Saeon softly called his name. A faint smile appeared on his usually blank, handsome face, and Ebi blinked in a daze. Just as he recovered and smiled brightly, about to ask when he had arrived—

“…Biwon-ssi!”

At the familiar voice, Ebi turned to see Eun-jun walking over, waving.

“Is this your phone, Biwon-ssi?”

With a gentle smile, Eun-jun held out the phone. Just as Ebi reached for it—someone else’s hand snatched it first. It was Saeon.

Ebi looked at Saeon in surprise—and flinched. Unlike earlier, his face now looked cold. It wasn’t just indifference—the way his black eyes stared at Eun-jun gave Ebi goosebumps.

“Um…”

Eun-jun, startled by the hostility, looked between them. Likewise flustered, Ebi quickly grabbed Saeon’s hand and lowered it.

“Thank you for bringing it back!”

“No problem—it was nothing… But, um, who is this person…?”

Eun-jun trailed off, clearly wondering “Why is this guy glaring at me like that?”
Ebi, knowing well that Saeon would casually kill either human or yokai if provoked, almost brushed it off with “just someone I know”—but paused.

“No matter what, he’s my boyfriend. Calling him ‘just someone I know’ would be too much.”

Eun-jun wasn’t a reporter or stalker—he was Seonbi-nim, reborn. Ebi trusted he wouldn’t go around spreading rumors, even if he knew Ebiwon had a boyfriend. And even if the truth somehow got out, Ebi didn’t care. Saeon was more important than Ebiwon’s human status.

“This is my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

Dongjitdal, who had been glaring at Saeon, gasped in outrage. Only Sowol, who had long guessed their relationship, smiled slyly. Eun-jun’s eyes widened as he looked between them, then politely masked his surprise. His expression seemed to accept Saeon’s hostility as jealousy.

“I see. Your boyfriend, huh… Well, I’ll be going, then. See you next time, Biwon-ssi.”

Kindly stopping himself from saying more, Eun-jun smiled and nodded slightly to Saeon before leaving. Ebi smiled in return and waved until he was gone, then whipped around to Saeon. Saeon was still glaring at Eun-jun’s back, so Ebi jumped up and down in front of him.

Only then did Saeon shift his gaze to Ebi.

“No!”

“No what?”

Blinking as if confused, Saeon spoke innocently. Once he confirmed no one else was around, Ebi gently took his hand and explained.

“That… person… You can’t hurt him. No hitting. No killing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I only looked at him.”

His voice was pure and clueless—but Ebi had clearly sensed something ominous in his stare. That wasn’t just jealousy. It was the kind of look only someone who had taken countless lives could have.

At first, it’s “Can I do it?”
Then, “Should I do it?”
Measuring. Calculating.

Ebi swallowed dryly. It wasn’t just Igok he had to watch out for. He was deeply anxious that Saeon might actually harm Eun-jun.

Unlike Igok, Eun-jun was a fragile human. No way… Ebi tried to reassure himself—but the thought wouldn’t go away. He wanted a firm promise from Saeon that he wouldn’t hurt Eun-jun.

Just then, Dongjitdal, who had been holding back the whole time, exploded.

“Why is he your boyfriend?!”

Red-faced and fuming, Dongjitdal pointed at Saeon. Saeon looked like he was considering whether to snap the finger waving in front of his face—but when he met Ebi’s gaze, he just quietly lowered his eyes.