Harsh City Tour (3)

Before we sat down to a late lunch, we made a quick stop at the cosmetics shop Hayeon had been dying to visit.

"They sell makeup at the supermarket too. Why'd we have to come all the way out here?"

Hayeon answered with a look of the most profound gravity.

"Unnie, the difference between a specialty store and everywhere else is the difference between a Semi-Awakened and an Awakened."

The comparison gouged so precisely at a sore spot that I just pressed my lips shut and followed her inside.

Watching her pick her way through dozens of products, meticulously comparing shades, I found myself thinking, How was this the same little rabbit that used to rattle the bars of her hutch?

I shook my head at once. This was a world where mudskippers the size of people wandered the tidal flats and nameless things came bursting out of the sky. A rabbit with a cosmetics habit was well within the realm of possibility. I couldn't even decide tonight's dinner without handing the problem off to Hana. I hardly needed to pile philosophical thoughts on top of that.

While Hayeon was absorbed in her shopping, I pulled out my phone to check the blog where I'd posted photos of today's mudskipper catch.

And sure enough, the comments were a spectacle.

I found myself pressing a hand to my forehead. I wondered if this was just what happened to people as they got older—then caught myself. I was the one who'd written the post in exactly the kind of tone those people loved. Who was I to blame?

I let out a long sigh and shoved the phone back into my pocket, as if I never wanted to look at it again.

Hana, standing beside me, must have caught the sigh. She was staring at me with worried eyes. I stroked her head and told her, with complete sincerity,

"Hana, you make sure you age gracefully."

"Couldn't you just not keep a blog, Unnie?"

Ah. That was Hana for you—straight to the heart of it.

"Hana, if you go through life without leaving even one thing to remember, what's the point?"

"The way you're talking right now, Unnie, you sound just like those guys."

Hana really did have a gift for needling me too. If I kept this conversation going, the two of them might actually make me cry. Hoping we could just get to lunch already, I decided to wait it out in silence.

A moment later, Hayeon came back to us looking thoroughly satisfied. Almost at the same time, my phone buzzed in my pocket.

Bzzzt.

After all the swiping I'd done today, it was probably the credit card company texting to ask if I'd lost my mind. Still, looking at that bright, beaming face, I could let the card company's scolding go in one ear and out the other.

With Hayeon's cosmetics shopping finally done, we headed to a little restaurant near the supermarket. These days, places that served as both a café and a proper eatery were rare enough—and the owner of this one was, of all things, a fox beastfolk.

She had a perfectly respectable name, something Jeong, but I just called her Miss Jeong.

When we stepped into Miss Jeong's restaurant, soft music was playing, and she was sitting in a chair watching television. At the sound of the door, her pointed fox ears gave a little twitch—and without so much as a glance in my direction, she broke into a wide smile and welcomed Hana and Hayeon.

"Oh my, our babies are here?"

Fair enough. When the two of them had first turned into people, this was the first place they'd come running, completely at a loss. In that sense, Miss Jeong was something like a godmother to them—or a second mother. Something along those lines.

"What about me? Don't I get a hello?"

I asked, a little tartly. Miss Jeong flicked a glance at me and snorted.

"You here to make me brew ssanghwa tea again?"

"Come on, that was a joke. I know how to drink coffee now, you know."

"Ha. Cut the chatter and sit down, would you? Don't get in the way of my business."

There was a reason she was endlessly tender with Hana and Hayeon and ice-cold with me. It was, simply put, my own fault. The first time we met, I'd been so fascinated by a fox beastfolk that I'd pestered her about touching her tail a few times. Then I'd been struck by the divine punishment of turning into a woman, and I still hadn't found a way to soothe her wounded feelings.

As far as I was concerned, coming here regularly and boosting her sales was a more sincere apology than a hundred I'm sorrys—but she didn't seem to see it that way.

I sat down at a table with Hana and Hayeon. While the two of them cheerfully agonized over the menu, I turned my eyes to the wall-mounted television Miss Jeong had been watching.

I already knew how this would go. It would be the usual worshipful coverage of handsome, popular Hunters. To someone like me—a Hunter-adjacent type who lived day to day—it was a story ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠from another world. The kind of news that just made your stomach twist, like hearing a show-off cousin had bought a plot of land.

Once Hana and Hayeon had settled on things like pasta and risotto loaded with cheese, I ordered my usual pizza toast. At first I'd wondered whether a rabbit and a dog ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ought to be eating desserts packed with cheese or chocolate. As it turned out, they ate them just fine.

I carried the order slip to the counter and handed it to Miss Jeong. She snatched the paper from my hand in one swipe and disappeared into the kitchen without a word. I sighed quietly at that spiteful retreating back and returned to my seat.

Back at the table, I listened to Hana and Hayeon's rambling chatter—gossip about all the fascinating things they'd seen at the cosmetics shop. I listened for a bit, then looked back at the television. The anchor was delivering the news with a grave expression.

Come to think of it—how old were Hana and Hayeon even supposed to be? They'd both been properly issued ID cards under my family name, but I remembered the county office clerks clutching their heads over it before settling on, "Let's just put them down as fifteen. They ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠look about that age."

I couldn't even remember how long ago that had been. The mandatory testing age coming out of the television sounded like it was right around there.

I suddenly remembered the time Hunter Management Bureau officials had come all the way to the house, practically begging me to get the beastfolk tested. I'd told them, "These kids are two years old and six months old," and a D-Rank civil servant had grabbed me by the collar. Inspector Park had spent the entire day scolding me and teasing me over it.

I didn't know why only the bad memories kept surfacing the more I thought about it. This place had to have bad energy. That was the only explanation.

Just then, Miss Jeong came out carrying two dishes on a tray. With careful hands, she set the pasta in front of Hayeon and the risotto in front of Hana. As for my pizza toast, it had been dumped with a thunk on the serving counter by the register.

Get it yourself, I supposed.

"Go ahead and eat."

I got up and fetched my own plate.

We were enjoying a rare meal out—or something like one—when my phone started buzzing in my pocket again. The screen said Inspector Park.

Had the mudskipper bounty ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠come through already? I wondered. But they usually called from the county office about reward money...

I gestured for Hana and Hayeon to keep eating, stepped outside, and picked up.

"Already? Did the mudskipper money come through?"

"So it's standby?"

I couldn't help the long sigh that escaped me. The first time in ages we'd all gone out together, and the world simply refused to leave me alone.

"Last time you just had me stand unarmed watch. If that's all it's going to be, just take me off as a civilian."

The line cut off, and just before it did I could hear voices bustling back and forth on the other end. Things were in full emergency mode over there too.

Well, he'd said to come by midnight, so I still had some time. The village hall elders adored Hana and Hayeon so much that leaving the two of them there for a while wasn't much of a worry. I was just the one who'd be inconvenienced.

I went back inside and relayed what Inspector Park had told me to Hana and Hayeon, who were nearly finished with their food. Hana nodded calmly, but Hayeon set down her fork with a thoroughly sulky look.

"If the grandmas pull my ears again, I'm actually going to bite them this time! Even a little tug hurts so much!"

"Okay, okay. I'll give them a stern talking-to."

Thankfully, neither of them insisted on staying home, which was one less thing to worry about. I hurriedly shoved the rest of my pizza toast into my mouth.

And that was the end of our pleasant meal out.