The Mudskipper Awaits
Stepping out of the police outpost, the humid air pressed in even thicker. Sweat beaded on my face, yet I felt neither short of breath nor dizzy. This strange body accepted the heat with indifference. The salty scent of the sea gradually faded, replaced by the smells of earth and grass. Soon, a cluster of small houses came into view—the village nestled together. Its usual quiet, drowsy atmosphere seemed to greet me from afar.
As I entered the village, several elders sat fanning themselves beneath the large zelkova tree in the pavilion, escaping the heat. The slow whir of a rotating fan blade mingled with the soft rustle of their fans, filling the lazy afternoon stillness. Beside them, an unnamed neighborhood dog lay on the dirt, tongue lolling as it panted and rolled about. It was a truly peaceful scene.
Yet when I lifted my gaze toward the horizon, I could see the sky beyond the water rippling ever so faintly. Occasionally, a rainbow shimmer would flash across it, or the space itself would twist in a strange, unsettling way. But that was a story for city folk. Here in Dohoang-ri, it remained nothing more than a distant tale.
Wiping the sweat from my brow with my collar, I stepped into our familiar yard. The rich aroma of simmering food greeted me first. Through the kitchen window, a familiar yellow-furred back moved busily over a bubbling pot. On the shaded porch, a girl with white rabbit ears lounged comfortably, eyes fixed on her smartphone screen.
Only a few years ago, that yellow-furred one had dashed across the yard barking, while the rabbit-eared girl had scratched at her cage bars to welcome me. The yellow dog, Nureongi, and the rabbit, Pobby, whom Nureongi had carried home as a pup.
Entering the yard, both the yellow dog ears at the kitchen window and the white rabbit ears on the porch perked up at once, turning toward me. Their faces lit up with bright smiles.
Pobby, who had been lying on the porch, shuffled over in her slippers. She sniffed the air, rabbit ears twitching, then immediately wrinkled her nose.
"Ugh, you reek of alcohol! Did you just go drinking again, unnie?"
Her voice carried a sharp, sulky edge. From the kitchen, Nureongi looked at me in silence and gave a small wave. It felt exactly like she was saying, "Welcome home. You worked hard."
I gently pushed Pobby's head away with an apologetic smile.
"Sorry… I forgot the ice cream. My bad, Pobby."
At my words, Pobby's ears shot straight up and she began stomping her feet.
"I wouldn't have gotten this mad over ice cream…"
When I tilted my head in confusion, Pobby's ears perked even higher as she shouted.
"Pobby?! I have a proper name—Jang Hayeon! And the one cooking stew over there isn't Nureongi unnie, it's Jang Hana unnie!"
Only after getting scolded by Pobby did I realize my mistake. I still often slipped up and called them by their old animal names. What had started as a joke had somehow become a habit. Still, I was the one who had given them their human names.
I lightly pushed Pobby's forehead again and headed inside, saying, "I gave you those names too, you know."
"I don't care about that part!"
Hayeon's grumbling voice followed me from behind.
The moment I stepped inside, a calm voice called from the kitchen.
"Welcome back, Master."
Master. People who kept dogs sometimes called themselves that, but hearing it from a person-shaped Nureongi felt deeply strange.
I spoke to her gently. "Hana, that 'Master' thing still sounds weird no matter how many times I hear it."
"I know that much. You gave Hayeon her name too, after all."
A soft laugh accompanied her words. She must have heard my entire exchange with Hayeon from the start.
I let out a small sigh and headed for the bathroom to wash off the sweat. In the small basket by the bathroom door lay my folded clothes—messily creased and uneven. From underwear to a comfortable T-shirt, the crooked, wrinkled state was unmistakably Hayeon's handiwork. Even when she nagged me outside, she always took care of me where it didn't show. It made something in my chest tighten.
Carrying the clothes Hayeon had prepared, I stepped into the bathroom. While showering under the warm water, I caught my reflection in the fogged mirror. A young woman's face I still wasn't used to stared back. Slightly sun-tanned yet fair skin. A well-proportioned body visible even through the steam. And that particularly assertive chest. It was hard to imagine this was the same person who had been drinking makgeolli with the elders at the village hall and bickering childishly with a rabbit-eared girl just moments ago.
But regardless, that reflection was also me. I wiped my wet face once and accepted this bizarre reality once more.
After finishing my shower and changing into fresh clothes, I headed not to the kitchen but to the old storage shed attached beside it. When we first moved into this house, I had wanted to turn this space into a man's domain filled with tools and fishing gear. But after becoming a yeopsa, turning into a woman, and living with Nureongi and Pobby, it had become more of a workshop than a hobby room.
Switching on the old incandescent bulb inside, the familiar smells of oil and metal washed over me. On one wall hung the work clothes and boots I would wear tomorrow at the tidal flats, freshly laundered. Behind the farming tools gathered in the corner—long sickles and shovels—several gun barrels were neatly hidden.
I stared at the barrels for a moment before shaking my head.
It's just mudskippers. No need to switch out the barrels for that.
I carefully moved the tools hiding the barrels and lifted a small cover on the floor. Inside were moisture-proof ammunition boxes. If Park Gyeong-wi or Lee the constable saw them, they would have a fit… but in this day and age, anyone determined enough could get this much ammunition just by going to Cheonggyecheon. Those two were just unusually strict.
Just as I thought I had finished a rough equipment check, I realized the most important thing was missing.
Ah… the gun.
It was safely stored in the police outpost armory. I let out a deep sigh without realizing it and stepped out of the shed. Pobby, who had somehow appeared behind me, spoke flatly before spinning around toward the kitchen.
"Hana unnie says dinner's ready."
That kid really was short with her words. But maybe because she was a rabbit, even that prickly attitude felt cute. Instead of answering, I simply smiled and walked toward the kitchen, where the delicious smell was wafting from.
Once seated at the table, the bubbling sound of kimchi jjigae welcomed me. I quietly watched Hana sitting across from me. Where in that neat appearance could I find any trace of the dog that used to roll in the dirt? It was always amazing—and deeply moving—every time I looked at her.
When I picked up my spoon and took a sip of the hot stew, both Hana and Hayeon followed suit, as if they had been waiting. It was a small rule that had formed in our household: during meals, everyone focused quietly on eating. Then Hana broke the silence first.
"I heard you have work tomorrow. Should I come along?"
I waved my hand dismissively. "No, it's fine. It's just a mudskipper the size of a person, after all."
It was a typical Nureongi-like remark, full of worry. But there was no need to drag these kids into such a messy place. Honestly, Nureongi possessed physical abilities that surpassed most humans, and Hayeon's rabbit ears could detect dangers I couldn't even sense. They would definitely be helpful. But the scene I wanted was them staying in this warm house, cooking delicious stew and lounging on the porch to nag, while I wrestled with strange creatures and got covered in mud at the tidal flats.
At that moment, Hayeon set her spoon down with a clack. Her large eyes sparkled as her rabbit ears perked up.
"Unnie, I promise I won't get in the way when you go catch that thing tomorrow~ So can you at least drop me off at the mart in town? It's been a while."
It was such a typical Hayeon-like, leisurely request. Before Hana could open her mouth to scold her, I nodded first.
"Sure, let's do that. I was thinking it was about time to buy you two some new clothes anyway."
The moment I gave permission, Hayeon's face lit up brightly, and even Hana, who had been quietly eating, wore a soft smile. Just because they had become human didn't mean they were satisfied living in this tiny rural corner. They needed new clothes and the chance to see the bustling world.
If tomorrow's job goes smoothly, maybe I should take them all the way into the city instead of just the town mart.
I made various plans in my head.
"Really? You promised, okay?"
"You always keep your promises."
Hayeon asked excitedly, and Hana quietly agreed. Listening to their lively voices, I continued with my dinner.