Devil and the Foreigner: A Weekend Morning
Dahong and the outsider's weekend morning. Seha tied his sneakers.
"I'm off."
"Yeah."
Dahong lounged on the sofa in light clothes, watching TV. Seha opened the front door.
"Should be back before dinner."
"Got it."
"Be good, Ruby."
"Nyaang."
Ruby wagged her tail at Seha's feet. The door closed. Footsteps faded away.
On weekends, Seha headed out early in the morning. To train with Noeul, Oh Daehyun, and Seoyeonn. Three S-ranks, one a branch chief no less. An extravagant lineup, but according to Seha, it was hell.
Dahong sipped coffee while watching TV. She flipped channels. News. Dramas. Variety shows. Cooking programs. She stopped on a cooking show.
It was a battle where chefs raided celebrities' fridges and cooked within a time limit. She watched for a while. Her coffee ran out. When the show ended, Dahong stretched.
"Huuuuh~!"
She checked the clock. 10 a.m. Dahong got up from the sofa. She went to the kitchen balcony and started the washing machine.
Lately, she'd been doing housework now and then. Running the laundry, washing dishes. Vacuuming. No particular reason. It just felt good to fill spare time. Finishing brought a strange sense of satisfaction amid the domesticity.
Dahong watched the machine rumble, yawned, and headed to the bedroom. She changed clothes. Her usual white suit. Tying the tie and buttoning up, her ample chest asserted itself.
"Ruby. Let's go."
"Nya!"
Ruby leaped onto Dahong's shoulder. Dahong opened the front door. Outside was warm. It was spring.
Seoul city center. Bustling streets. Inside a cafe.
A woman in pure white entered. Conversations hushed instantly. Snow-white hair, snow-white suit. Blood-red shirt. Massive horns. An appearance that inevitably drew eyes.
The woman scanned the interior with half-lidded eyes, as if it were routine. Then.
"Dahong unnie! Over here!"
Someone waved. It was Han Isol, dressed in spring vibes. Across from her, Yoon Harin sat with legs crossed, in jeans and a cardigan.
Dahong walked over slowly and sat. Ruby hopped onto the table.
"Ru-bi!"
Harin petted Ruby. Her mouth grinned wide—she was utterly smitten.
Isol pouted at Dahong. "Unnie, suit again today?"
"Yeah."
"What about the clothes we bought together? That black knit suited you so well."
"This is comfy."
Isol sighed. "Such a waste on a rare day off…."
Harin scratched Ruby's chin. "Fair. Can't picture this summon in anything else."
"It suits her perfectly! Tall, those long legs—everything looks good on her."
Dahong eyed their drinks. Isol's glass brimmed with pink beverage and whipped cream. Harin's was ruby red with grapefruit chunks and crushed ice.
"What's good here?"
"New strawberry latte—want some? Oh, but unnie likes bitter coffee, right?"
"Sweet's fine too. Had coffee this morning."
"Pick from the sweets then. Ah, Dahong unnie doesn't have a phone."
Isol pulled up the menu via QR code. Dahong scrolled. All flashy drinks. With a blank expression, she picked one.
"This."
Chocolate matcha latte. Isol placed the order; a ding sounded from afar, signaling receipt.
Harin had carried Ruby to the sofa, rubbing her belly. Ruby purred and rubbed back; Harin's lips curved up.
"Harin, you're so sweet to Ruby."
"No reason to be prickly with cats."
"True, but still."
Dahong gazed out the window, waiting for her drink. People passed by. Spring sunlight reflected off the glass. Not a bad spot.
Should tell Seha about this place.
Dahong thought idly, without realizing it.
The three chatted for about two hours. Mostly Isol talking, Harin interjecting, Dahong responding—a pleasant loop. Trivial topics, but enjoyable.
Near 1 p.m., Harin said, "Haa, lunch time? Getting hungry."
"Whoa, time flew."
"What're we craving? Pasta place nearby."
"Did that last time—not feeling it."
"Hm, okay? Unnie, anything you want?"
Dahong answered without hesitation. "Jja-jang-myeon."
"Jja-jang-myeon?"
"Yeah. Craving it after ages."
"Ooh, unexpected."
Isol eyed her up and down. Pure white suit. White pants.
"…But unnie, white clothes—sure? Sauce splatters show up bad."
"Won't splatter."
"Well, yeah, but."
They left the cafe. Ruby nestled in Harin's arms.
"Then… nearest Chinese…."
"Hold up."
As Harin searched on her phone, Isol froze. Crosswalk ahead.
A girl stood there. Blonde, huge suitcase. Coat draped over one arm. Sweat beaded on her forehead.
April in Seoul—not hot, but her outfit suggested somewhere colder.
Phone in hand, she looked around lost. Classic foreigner off-course.
"Lost, huh? Let's help."
"Here we go again."
Isol stepped forward; Harin shook her head but followed. Dahong trailed slowly behind.
"May I help you?"
Isol approached. The girl startled, turning. Big eyes. Blonde. Sweaty brow.
"Uh…."
Awkward Korean. "I… don't know the way."
"You speak Korean?"
"A l-little."
She held out her phone. Isol squinted. Familiar address.
"Huh, this is…."
"What?"
Harin peeked. "Oh, near academy dorms?"
"Yeah?"
"Academy? You know?"
The girl blinked.
"Hunter Academy. Our school."
Her eyes widened. Isol beamed.
"Want us to show you?"
"Ah, no need. Just… tell me the way…."
"Suitcase looks heavy—come with!"
"R-really, it's fine…!"
The girl gripped her suitcase, flustered.
"We're heading that way anyway! Perfect."
Isol offered her hand with a bright smile. The girl opened and closed her mouth. This type you can't refuse.
Then.
Dahong sauntered up. Something in the girl's clothes trembled faintly.
Her expression shifted. Flustered to icy cold, staring at the approaching woman.
White hair. Horns. Red eyes. Ominous mana—leagues beyond anything she'd sensed.
Lofty huddled inside her clothes, quivering. The girl stepped back.
"……!"
Isol tilted her head. "What's wrong?"
No answer. Tense, she addressed Dahong.
"You… demon?"
Isol and Harin looked at her. Dahong gazed down blankly.
"Yeah."
The girl clenched her fists. But… glance around. Too many people.
And honestly. Can I win?
First opponent she couldn't gauge.
Isol nodded, getting it. "Don't worry. Dahong unnie's not dangerous. She's our friend."
"Friend…?"
Friends with a demon? One this menacing?
Are they fooled?
Her face screamed incomprehension.
Then.
Grrrooowl.
Her stomach rumbled.
"……."
"……."
"……."
Her face flushed crimson. Isol laughed.
"Super hungry, huh?"
"Ah, been finding my way since morning…."
"No breakfast?"
Harin sounded shocked. Nearly 1 p.m. now.
"I-I thought I'd find it quick."
She bowed her head, embarrassed.
"Then, lunch with us! We were heading out anyway."
"N-no, really—"
"Come on!"
Isol grabbed her arm. The girl got dragged along. Suitcase rattled behind.
Her face was pure confusion. What is happening? Just asking directions… how'd I end up eating with a demon?
Thus, the Chinese restaurant. Four at a table.
A huge bowl before the girl. Noodles in thick black sauce. Chopped cukes on top.
"…What's this?"
Isol smiled brightly. "Jja-jang-myeon! Um… traditional Korean? National dish?"
"……."
"Mix it up like this."
Isol demonstrated, stirring noodles with chopsticks. They coated in black sauce.
The girl clumsily gripped chopsticks, mimicking. Sticky sounds as strands tangled.
Dubious eyes on a single strand. Blackest sauce she'd ever seen.
Smell wasn't bad, but….
Glance.
Sparkle sparkle.
Isol—eyes full of expectation.
Overwhelmed, she shoved it in.
Crunch.
Eyes widened. Sweet-salty, utterly new flavor.
"……!"
One chopstickful. Another. Noodles slipped from her fist-grip.
She dunked her head to catch droppers.
"Haap. Slurp. Zzooop. Haap."
She shoveled frantically, mouth working. Sauce smeared everywhere.
Lips. Cheeks. Chin, nose tip. The elegant girl turned jja-jang mess in no time.
Harin chuckled awkwardly. "She inhales it…."
"Glad she likes it."
Dahong, by contrast, ate her own gracefully. Not a drop on her white suit.
The girl scraped the bowl dry, then slurped extra sauce.
"Ahaha, must suit her."
Finally coming to, she set down chopsticks, clasped hands.
"Thank you…. So delicious."
Sauce caked her mouth. Isol pointed to her own cheek, laughing.
"Here, you've got some."
"?"
Wiping with tissue, she sensed wrongness, checked her face in the camera.
"……!!"
She tore at tissues, scrubbing. Ears beet red.
Harin snickered. Dahong watched impassively.
A rare glimpse of pure innocence.