Pretty Blue Eyes

"Huh? Dog grooming?"

Slurp. Ayeon, halfway through drawing her drink up the straw, went perfectly round-eyed.

They were in a café near Eunha's academy, sharing lunch for the first time in a while.

"It's only been a week."

Eunha answered without a ripple of embarrassment, twirling pasta around her fork.

Dog grooming... That didn't suit her. It didn't suit her at all. Ayeon blinked those round eyes in a flurry. Truly, every time she saw this unni, the woman was new all over again.

"And you? How have you been?"

"Hm? Me?"

"I wondered if those guys have kept quiet since then."

"Oh. That."

Ayeon grinned.

"What are they going to do? If they've got any brains at all, they'll know it's better for both sides to write it off as a little incident. Me, I'd be grateful if they came back."

She had proof she'd been beaten, after all. Ayeon thrust her phone out. On the screen was a selfie of her flashing a casual V-sign, her face bruised a deep blue-black.

"I recorded the whole thing, you know? Every bit of them trying to make me out as a thief is right in here."

Tap, tap. A few presses on the screen, and Verde's recorded voice spilled from the speaker.

English tangled with Korean. At the time the translation badge had carried them through without a hitch, but the voices on the recording were raw, unfiltered English.

Even so, as evidence it would be more than enough.

...A meticulous girl. Eunha thought it as she watched Ayeon wear that meaningful smile. To take a beating like that and still find a moment to hit record — it was nothing short of astonishing.

"Oh, right. That Pixie Powder you won at the auction. Did you get it to your friend all right?"

Phone tucked away, Ayeon clapped as if the thought had just returned to her.

Pixie Powder — all that work earning the chips, then a winning bid just as steep. When Eunha had said she meant to give it to a friend, Ayeon had hardly known what to do with her surprise.

"Yeah. I hear she's getting better, little by little. Whether that's the Pixie Powder, I couldn't say."

"Oho. Is that so?"

Ayeon folded her arms and sank into thought, then brightened all at once and leaned in close.

"If Pixie Powder turns up at the auction next year, maybe I should bid too. If it actually works, I could sit on it and sell it for a fortune later! Right, unni?"

"Maybe."

Before Eunha's plain reply, Ayeon's eyes glittered.

"Unni, since we're talking about it — come to next year's Hunter Auction with me!"

"Well. I'm..."

I'm? Ayeon's face went blank as Eunha let the sentence trail off. Eunha set down her fork and lifted her head.

"Starting next month I'll be in the job-placement class, and I mean to get my dog-grooming license soon."

"Huh...?"

Job-placement class...? A license...?

What on earth was this unni saying?

"I'm saying I don't really know how next year will go."

Eunha stirred her cola with the straw as she said it. Ayeon gaped, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠babbling, then seemed to come to her senses and shot up from her seat.

"No, wait a second. Unni, you're not telling me you mean to quit being a Hunter, just like this?"

Eunha gave no answer. She drew on the straw and glanced at her phone. 12:43 p.m. About time she left.

"I'll head out first. Class starts at one."

"Uh, unni?"

"See you next time."

Eunha hurried out of the café.

From the café to the dog-grooming academy was about a ten-minute walk. She stopped before the display window of a clothing shop nearby, made sure her hat and mask covered her face completely, and went on toward the academy.

"Hold on!"

Just as she was about to step into the elevator, someone came running. She paused with her hand over the close button, and a young man poked his head through doors that had nearly shut.

"Oh — Yura?"

Han Yunho. He attended the same academy she did.

"What a relief. If you're still here, class hasn't started, right? Whew. I ran so hard I didn't even check the time."

A stylish gray checkered shirt, jeans, a black tote in one hand. He smiled warmly and came to stand beside her.

He had taken leave from a prestigious university, she remembered, tutoring on the side while he chased a dream and learned to groom dogs.

She knew that much about him because he was the most popular man at the academy. Kind to everyone, easy in his manners, and handsome besides — director, instructors, and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠students alike had nothing but praise for him.

"On your way back from lunch?"

"Yes."

"Ah. Me too. Where'd you eat? Is there somewhere good around here?"

"Just a café out on that shopping street. I don't know the name."

"What'd you have?"

"Pasta."

"With who?"

"A frien—"

She had been about to say a friend when she shut her mouth and stared straight at Yunho.

He blinked, slow and blank, then scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed laugh.

"Ah, sorry. I grilled you a little too hard, didn't I?"

"......"

"I just... I wanted to get to know you, Yura. We're in the same class, and..."

His eyes wandered, with nowhere left to go. His ears had flushed a vivid red. He cleared his throat, then stole a glance up at her.

"Um, Yura, do you happen to have a boyfri—"

Ding.

The elevator arrived.

"Oh, Yunho's here! I saved you a seat."

"Ah — ah... Hello."

He scrambled out of the elevator and glanced back. Then, watching Eunha step out after him, he shaped the words more than spoke them.

"See you in a bit."

A shy smile, and Yunho drew away.

Class began in earnest, and Eunha took her grooming tools from her bag with a trace of tension in her hands.

The instructor moved from student to student, offering careful advice here and a demonstration there.

"Oh my, Yura. Your hands are so quick. Have you done this before?"

"No. It's my first time."

"Oh my. Then you must have a gift. Starting tomorrow, you can stop brushing and go straight into scissor practice."

A little more study and the license would be hers in no time. The instructor had nothing but praise, and Eunha only blinked, faintly dazed.

"It would be no exaggeration to call you the most talented student I've ever taught. I can tell just from the way you brush. I've been doing this work for ten years."

Eunha dropped her gaze to the brush in her hand, then spoke quietly.

"......Thank you."

Her fingers tightened around it.

When class ended and she stepped out of the practice room, her feet felt somehow lighter than usual. Even the full bag weighed nothing at all.

The walk home. She had walked this same road yesterday. Nothing about it had changed, so why did it feel different from the day before?

The messages were from Jehwi. Eunha gazed at the words on the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠screen for a moment, then slowly tapped at the keyboard.

A moment later, a short buzz, and a new message.

It was the emoticon Jehwi used most.

"......Looks just like him."

Eunha let out a faint laugh and slipped the phone away.

Whoosh—

A cool wind brushed her cheek and passed on. Leaves in red and gold, as if they had changed their clothes, danced across her vision.

She swept her flying black hair gently back. The scent of autumn lingered at the tip of her nose.

......This is nice.

The thought came out of nowhere.

Beneath a sky where the sunset was fading, she stood in the wind for a long while, then slowly set her halted feet moving again.

And then—

"......?"

A gaze was fixed on her. To the left. She turned her head.

Near a utility pole, a dog sat planted in place, staring a hole straight through her. For a moment, neither of them made a sound.

A husky? No... a malamute?

As if drawn, Eunha walked toward it.

A stranger was approaching, and yet the dog did not bark. It did not so much as blink. It only sat meekly where it was.

Up close, it seemed to be neither husky nor malamute. The eyes were certainly blue, but the body was snow-white, almost like a Samoyed. Even that did not quite fit. The coat was short, and the long, lean frame was more hunting dog than anything. A mix, perhaps?

"You're a good one."

Crouched on the pavement, Eunha murmured it. The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠dog blinked slowly, as if it had understood.

"Why are you alone? Where's your owner?"

Swish, swish— The tail moved, unhurried. She looked at its neck. There was nothing that might have been an ID tag, and no leash tied off to the pole nearby either.

The coat was clean, and it neither fled from people nor barked at them, so it ought to have had an owner...

Still crouched, Eunha quietly studied those blue eyes.

Looking into them, she thought suddenly of Siwoo. Come to think of it, was he doing all right?

Perhaps the stare had grown too heavy. The white dog had gone stiff as stone, not a twitch left in it. Even the wagging tail froze mid-swing.

Eunha, who had been gazing at the dog, smiled without a sound.

"Sorry. I keep staring."

She tilted her head a little. Long black hair slid down like ebony.

"Your eyes are just so pretty."

Was it her imagination? The dog seemed to flinch — and she had not even touched it. Had she stressed it? Or maybe it was simply that it had been with a stranger too long.

"Bye, puppy."

The moment she rose—

Chomp!

The white dog, gentle until now, suddenly bit down on the cuff of her pants.