Little Pink Starfish

“I remember now! You’re that shady stalker from last time!”

Ebi was startled. Dongjitdal hardly ever remembered humans. That made it all the more surprising when he suddenly hurled himself at Saeon, who had been scowling. But with a light motion, Saeon easily dodged the large body—and in his hand, something metallic and weapon-like flashed. Before Ebi could stop him, with a sharp whoosh, Saeon’s fist flew straight toward Dongjitdal’s temple.

“Ahem.”

Watching with a smiling face, Sowol suddenly popped in between them. One hand grabbed Saeon’s wrist, the other clutched Dongjitdal’s head.

“Let go!”

Dongjitdal yanked and hit Sowol’s arm, but despite his strength, that relatively slender arm didn’t budge. Saeon glanced at the wrist being held, clearly displeased. The moment he narrowed his eyes, Sowol flinched as if burned and quickly let go, stepping back several paces.

Whatever Saeon had been about to do, Sowol now looked at him with intrigued eyes. In any case, as a heavenly soldier responsible for maintaining order in the lower world, Sowol calmly scolded them.

“You can’t fight where humans can see. Especially Dongjitdal—don’t you still owe a whole lot of labor? You’ve got no gold left. What will you pay with now? Gonna join the Heavenly Army as an unpaid intern or something?”

“Then we’ll fight where humans can’t see us!”

“Hmm… in that case, I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

Apparently judging they wouldn’t actually start brawling right there, Sowol let go of Dongjitdal’s head. Dongjitdal snorted angrily and looked around. Ebi, who had been watching with his mouth agape, quickly stepped between the two.

“Wait, do you really need to fight?”

Today, Ebi had fully realized just how terrible Saeon was at social interaction. He learned the hard way that he should never let humans or yokai approach Saeon.

“It’s not like they’re married or anything, so that human doesn’t mean anything to me yet!”

“Wait, Dongji…!”

As Ebi rushed to stop him in panic, Saeon one-upped him. Narrowing his eyes at Dongjitdal, who was glaring fiercely, he looked him over and lazily said with a glint in his eye:

“I’ve never fought something like this before. Might be fun.”

“Oooh, this is gonna be the most fun fight in the world! I’m on the winner’s side!”

Even Sowol, instead of stopping them, was clapping and egging them on. Is it fine as long as humans don’t see?! Why is this happening?!
With a fight breaking out between two people he cared for, Ebi—peace-loving by nature—was truly in agony.

“Aren’t you going to stop them…? And Sowol, you should be cheering for Dongji!”

“Then what about you, Ebi? Who are you gonna cheer for?”

Caught off guard by the question, Ebi blinked rapidly. It was an impossible choice between a longtime companion and the one he loved. But since Sowol had asked aloud, both Dongjitdal and Saeon were now staring at him, waiting for an answer. Ebi quietly turned his head.

“…I’ll cheer for both of you.”

“You can’t pick both! There’s gotta be someone you want to win, even just a little. Come on, just one name!”

Ebi asked with his eyes, “Do I really have to answer?”
Sowol nodded with his eyes: Yes, you really do.
Ebi’s eyes shook like an earthquake. After a long inner struggle, he opened his mouth reluctantly.

“Then… probably Saeon…?”

He said it in the tiniest whisper—but with their keen senses, Dongjitdal caught it instantly.
Looking heartbroken, he teared up, and with a huhhng, he burst into tears and ran off somewhere.

“Ah—D-Dongji!”

Feeling guilty, Ebi started to chase after him—but suddenly stopped. A thick arm had wrapped tightly around his waist from behind.

He looked back. Saeon, with a blank expression, said:

“Where do you think you’re going? You said we’d have a date today.”

Ebi swallowed hard and touched the arm around his waist. But feelings don’t lie—after a long pause, he ended up choosing Saeon again.

Saeon ignored his plea to go comfort Dongjitdal, and dragged him straight to the parking lot. There stood a flashy red sports car. Ebi realized it was the same car Saeon had impulsively bought before going to Jusayamong. It was clearly full of magical enhancements, but on the outside, it just looked like an expensive foreign car.

“It’s a red car—your favorite color.”

With that, Saeon opened the door for him. It definitely looked cooler than the dusty black car from before. Still hesitant over Dongjitdal, Ebi peeked inside—and widened his eyes.

A colorful bouquet was resting on the seat.

“…Did you buy this?”

“I grew it myself. I read online that lovers often give each other flowers.”

The bouquet, centered with dewy blue hydrangeas, surrounded by white flowers and bright red mountain berries, smelled of the vibrant life of deep forest air. While Ebi silently admired the flowers, Saeon started the engine with a soft purring sound.

“Do you have a place in mind?”

“Uh… I made a reservation somewhere. Let’s eat there.”

Ebi gave him the address, and Saeon turned the wheel. He’d received many bouquets before, but this one felt different. Even if Saeon was just copying what others did—this was meant just for him.
Ebi gazed at the flowers for a long time and gently brushed the petals to smell the fragrance.

The restaurant he’d reserved was a private place often used by celebrities due to its high level of discretion. The staff didn’t even flinch at the sight of famous actor Ebiwon, and guided him politely to a private room. The table was already set with a full-course meal, and the door was closed. No one would come in unless they were called.

Setting the bouquet gently on the floor, Ebi drank a few sips of water. Something had been bothering him for a while now.
One—Saeon’s stare when looking at Eun-jun.
Two—how he had tried to harm Dongjitdal without hesitation.

“Saeon, I need to ask you something.”

Saeon, who had been scanning the food on the table, raised his head.

“I know you’re a hunter… but still, I want you to promise not to hurt the people I care about. Whether they’re human or yokai.”

Until now, Ebi hadn’t noticed the issue—he’d been alone with Saeon. But seeing how Saeon had reacted to both Eun-jun and Dongjitdal today had truly startled him. His heart was still racing.

“I get that you might get mad or irritated. But Saeon, if you hurt those precious to me… I won’t be able to just stand by.”

He said this with a sorrowful face filled with sincerity. Saeon furrowed his brow. As he stayed silent, Ebi fidgeted with the red ribbon tied around the bouquet.
Now that he looked closely, it was made of the exact same material and knots as the red string tied around his ankle.

“And if you don’t stand by?”

Saeon asked, eyes gleaming. His black irises shimmered with gloss. Suddenly, Ebi became curious about what he was thinking.

“Then… I guess we’d end up fighting?”

Ebi smiled awkwardly and lowered his eyes. Just the thought of fighting made his chest ache.
Saeon also looked down and stayed quiet for a while before replying.

“Those two who are always by your side—I don’t care about them. But that Kim Eun-jun human… every time I see him, I get annoyed. Uncomfortable.”

It was rare for Saeon to be so direct about his feelings, and Ebi’s eyes widened.

“Why are you being so good to someone who doesn’t even remember you after five hundred years?”

In the past, hearing something like that might’ve made Ebi angry. Seonbi-nim had always been precious to him.
But this time, instead of getting upset, affection for Saeon swelled in his heart. Without realizing it, he smiled shyly.

There was no doubt—Saeon was jealous. Ebi spoke in a soft, sweet voice:

“Since you’re human, you’ll probably die before me. So… I’ll wait for you too.”

That wasn’t quite the answer Saeon wanted. But it still seemed to satisfy him a little—the sharp aura around him dulled somewhat.

“Whether five hundred or a thousand years pass, until we meet again… I won’t date anyone else. I’ll keep waiting…”

Saying it made Ebi’s chest ache already.
When Seonbi-nim died, Ebi had been so heartbroken he stayed sealed in his glass jar for ages.
Maybe because he knew that kind of deep sorrow already—even imagining Saeon’s death brought tears to his eyes.
The faint taste of that sadness brushed against him, and Ebi flinched.

Will I really be able to bear losing Saeon someday?
Suddenly, he had that thought.

“Why am I already worrying about something so far in the future?”

He had seen countless humans die before him. The death of close ones had been especially painful, but eventually, he had managed to move on and remember them fondly.

“But Seonbi-nim… and Saeon…”

He couldn’t do that. And he felt like… maybe he never would.