The House Was No Longer Empty
"Mmm..."
Jang Pan-ho's eyes drifted open. He had lifted the blanket with one hand, waiting for what always came next: a moist, warm tongue against his skin, then a small, solid weight settling against his side. But the space at his waist was still empty, and that was why he had woken.
He tilted his head. Was it a dream?
Whenever Janggoon was ready to sleep, he would first settle himself on top of the blanket. Then, if he wanted to come underneath, he would give Jang Pan-ho's sleeping hand a gentle lick with that tiny tongue of his. If the hand was already under the covers, he would lick his face instead. Jang Pan-ho would lift the blanket in his sleep, and Janggoon would slip inside and press himself snug against his side for the rest of the night.
A small, soft tongue had licked his hand, so he had done what he always did...
He looked down. The hand still held that moist, lingering warmth. Well. That was one vivid dream. Is it because of that little one? Because Haru came?
It had felt far too real for a dream. And then, all at once, he found himself worrying about Haru, asleep out in the living room. Hnnngh. I wonder if she's sleeping all right.
What if she couldn't sleep, frightened by a strange place?
The worry was enough to make him start to sit up—then he lay back down. I shouldn't wake her on my account. If she had managed to fall asleep, that is. She might have only just drifted off. If he went out there, she would surely wake, and then she would never get back to sleep.
Better to pretend he didn't know. Tonight, that might be kinder.
He closed his eyes and tried again. But a sleep once broken is a stubborn thing to recapture. His mind grew bright and restless, and thoughts began to wander through it in a long, tangled chain.
But why was that little one even there? Did she live nearby? There are plenty of mixed-use buildings around here—was she from one of those? Then why isn't anyone looking for her?
The questions kept coming, and no wonder. He could not shake the image of Haru hunched by that shop-lined roadside, watching the world with frightened eyes.
What if Yeonju hadn't seen her? That road has so much traffic. Bicycles, motorcycles...
That was why Yoo Yeonju had gasped and scooped her up. Haru had very nearly been hit by a bicycle.
Tsk. I don't know who her guardian was, but that's just too much.
How does a person not know their own child has left the house? Or was it that thing he had only ever heard about—abandonment?
The folks at Mongmong Animal Hospital seemed to think so, too. How can anyone throw away a little thing like that and still sleep at night?
The thought of Haru's former owner sent a flare of irritation through him. He was in the middle of condemning that faceless stranger—the one who had abandoned her, or lost her—when another thought arrived, quieter and heavier.
Can I even do this fostering thing properly?
He had never fostered an animal in his life. A few days ago, he hadn't even known the word. And then, somehow, he had gone and brought that little one home. How could he not worry?
He had spent some fourteen years with Janggoon. So it was not the care itself that troubled him. He knew how to look after a dog. The cost of keeping Haru was no concern either.
Food, well—I'll feed her the way I fed our Janggoon. Nothing to worry about there...
He gazed at his wife, Yoo Yeonju, sleeping in the place beside him. She was a woman of deep affection and many tears, and she believed that whether the mouth belonged to a person or an animal, it ought to be full. She would take good care of Haru. He was sure of it.
That's right. What's so special about fostering? Feed her well, look after her well, and that will be that. And honestly, we did the right thing bringing her home. We did. Imagine if we hadn't. What then?
So many abandoned animals lose their lives. They wander the streets until an accident ends them, or they wait in a shelter until no new family comes, and then they are put down.
He remembered Haru's eyes—that pitiful, searching look she had given him and his wife.
My dear, if you hadn't picked that little one up and taken her to Mongmong Animal Hospital, we might never have seen those eyes again.
He smiled faintly at his sleeping wife and closed his own eyes once more.
Sleep would not come. But if he got up and wandered the house, Yeonju would wake, and Haru out in the living room would grow anxious. Tsk. When is the sun going to rise. He was clearly going to spend the night wide awake, so he told himself he would get up at first light and take a turn around the neighborhood. Hmm. But if I so much as stir, Haru will wake...
That was his last thought before his mind ran off to dreamland. He did not wake again until he heard his wife calling him.
"Oh my. Oh my, honey!"
"...Huh?"
"Shh."
Yoo Yeonju put a finger to her lips, then spoke in the smallest voice.
"Come here."
"...?"
Puzzled, Jang Pan-ho rose and walked to where she stood in the bedroom doorway. He followed her gaze—and his eyes went wide. His hand reached forward of its own accord.
He spoke to her without a sound, waving his hand, sending the thought with his eyes. Yoo Yeonju nodded, smiling, and then the two of them stood side by side, looking at the same place.
Where their four eyes met, Haru was sleeping, breathing soft and even, lost to the world. She lay on the plush cushion they had bought for her at Mongmong Animal Hospital.
The couple watched her for a long moment. Then, without either of them needing to go first, they turned to look at each other. The same smile hung on both their faces.
They were still smiling when a rustle sounded. Both heads turned at once.
Haru had woken. She was looking around, as if searching for her carrier.
Yoo Yeonju sat down quickly and spoke in a voice barely above a breath, as gentle as anything.
"Did you sleep well, our Haru?"
Jang Pan-ho found himself crouching there too, without quite meaning to. Haru, who had been heading for the carrier, stopped in her tracks and answered with a tiny wuff-woof! Then she simply stood there, tilting her head, for a long while.
Neither of them rushed her. They stayed perfectly still. If they said a word, she might dart back into the carrier and hide.
It was not long before Haru began walking toward them, careful and slow. Pit-pat. Pit-pat. Her steps quickened, and then she flung herself against Yoo Yeonju's legs and wrapped herself around them.
"There, there. Did you sleep well?"
Yoo Yeonju smiled as she stroked her, and Jang Pan-ho stroked her too. A strange ease settled over him. He had done nothing special. The little one had simply pressed herself against his wife's legs. And yet his heart felt so light, so quiet.
The three of them stayed like that for a while.
"Oh my, look at me. Our Haru must be hungry. Haru, let's have breakfast. You need to eat too, dear. What would you like?"
"Anything. Hmm... I find myself wanting grilled mackerel, for the first time in a while. Do we have any, my dear?"
For a moment, Yoo Yeonju simply stared. Oh my. What's gotten into him?
Ever since Janggoon had gone to the Dog Star, Jang Pan-ho had lost all interest in food. His appetite had simply vanished. He would take a few bites only when she pressed him. Meeting Sapsaree had brought some of it back, but not all of it—not the way it used to be. He would eat when there were people around, but he never found himself wanting anything in particular. When she asked what he would like, he would only ever say, "Anything."
Even that much had been a gift. She had been glad of it.
And now a dish had come out of her husband's mouth by name.
The corners of her lips curved up.
"Of course we do. I'll grill it up nicely for you. Just wait a little."
Her steps toward the kitchen were light.
A little later, the table where they sat facing each other was warm and full of talk. The conversation never once ran dry, and at the center of all of it was Haru.
"Heh heh. Two nights in our house, and it looks as though she's starting to settle in."
Haru had cleaned every last bit of the breakfast Yoo Yeonju had set out for her. She was not in the carrier. She was sitting on the cushion she had slept on the night before, and the morning sun was sparkling down on it as if it had chosen that spot on purpose.
"It does, doesn't it? Aigoo, last night she looked so pitiful. I was thinking if she was like that again today, we should just lay out the bedding in the living room and sleep there."
"Haha. That takes me back. After Janggoon's leg surgery, when the whole family slept in the living room."
Yoo Yeonju laughed.
"We lived like that for over a month, didn't we?"
"We did. Then let's sleep that way tonight. So this little one can get used to our house a little faster."
"All right."
That night, they laid out the bedding in the living room and settled down to sleep. Jang Pan-ho spoke to Haru, who was lying on her cushion.
"Haru. If you want to sleep next to this old man, you can come over here."
Yoo Yeonju laughed.
"Don't make a point of it. What if she feels pressured and goes and hides again?"
"No, I was only saying she could if she wanted to."
He looked at Haru with a faintly wounded expression and corrected himself.
"Sleep wherever you're comfortable."
He closed his eyes. A curve formed at the corners of his mouth as he did—though he did not know he was smiling.
Perhaps because he had slept so poorly the night before, he drifted off almost at once. Then his hand grew ticklish and warm.
Out of habit, just as he had the night before, he lifted the blanket. A small body slipped inside. Soon his side grew warm, and he felt a solid little weight against him.
In his sleep, Jang Pan-ho smiled. Hoo. Another vivid dream today.
How lucky could a man be. Two nights in a row, Janggoon had come to him in a dream. The happiness of it filled him so completely that he reached down, as he always had, and gently patted the warm presence at his side.
The presence nestled closer.
The feeling was so vivid that his eyes opened of their own accord. He started.
It was not a dream. He was awake, and the warmth was still there.
And then he understood. The thing against his side was Haru.
You little thing.
He patted her back, tap-tap, the way he used to pat Janggoon, and fell back asleep.
A living creature that didn't even weigh four pounds had, in just two days, seeped into every corner of their life.
Their house was no longer empty.
Three days had passed since Haru arrived.
In that time, laughter had blossomed through Jang Pan-ho and Yoo Yeonju's home. There was no room left for silence.
"Haru."
When Jang Pan-ho called, Haru—who had been looking out the window—bounced over like a rabbit and appeared in front of him.
"Haru."
When Yoo Yeonju called as she walked toward her, Haru flopped onto her back right where she stood, as if to say, Pet me.
"Our Haru is so good. So, so good."
"Ahem. She is, isn't she."
Whenever either of them called, Haru came running, beaming as she came.
It was after breakfast, while the couple sat with their tea. Haru was dozing on her cushion by the window. She would doze, lift her head to look at them, then lower it and doze again.
"Heh heh. Looks like she's sleepy. Haru, go on and take a nap."
Whether she had heard him or not, the little one who had been sitting and nodding off lay down, and Yoo Yeonju spoke with a smile in her face.
"Looks like Haru's settled in now."
"Seems so."
Jang Pan-ho smiled as he watched her settle in to sleep.
"Still, it makes my heart ache a little when she does that."
Haru had curled herself into a tight ball on her own cushion, and Yoo Yeonju looked at her with pitying eyes.
"Maybe it's because our Janggoon never slept like that. I still can't get used to seeing her that way. She looks so lonely."
The little one was already skin and bones. Watching her curl up so small to sleep, Jang Pan-ho's heart was not at ease either. She was probably missing her owner. No matter how well they treated her, she had only been in this house a few days. How much must it hurt, inside?
"Haru. Come here."
That was what Yoo Yeonju said—but she went to the cushion herself, and stroked her. The tenderness in her hands as she petted the curled-up little body was full of pity, and Haru seemed to feel it: that care, meant just for her. The one who had been folded so small stretched her belly out as if she had never been curled at all.
Yoo Yeonju stroked her forehead as if she were proud of her.
"Looks like she likes your hands, my dear. She looks so comfortable. By the way, when did Sujeong say she was coming?"
It was Friday. He asked thinking she might come today.
"She's not. She said she can't make it. Work at the company is busy, she said."
"Is that so?"
"Yes. I was going to take Haru out for a little walk around the neighborhood if Sujeong came today..."
Yoo Yeonju's voice grew quieter as she spoke.
Since coming to their house, Haru had lived entirely indoors. She no longer trembled. She no longer hid in the carrier. She seemed to have adapted to her new world, and Yoo Yeonju had been thinking it was time to start walks, little by little. But her husband would not go—that much was certain—so she had planned to wait for their daughter.
Jang Pan-ho read her mind, and picked up the thread.
"..."
Instead of answering, Yoo Yeonju looked at her husband with startled eyes.