Page 5
Story: Vicious Spirits
“Jihoon-ah,” Somin said.
“Clean my black hole of a room, got it,” he said, his voice way too bright.
“Is he doing all right?” Somin asked Miyoung when Jihoon was gone.
“He’s surviving,” Miyoung said as she picked up a box and hauled it into the small bathroom.
Somin sighed. That wasn’t what she had asked. But she knew that Miyoung had lived the first eighteen years of her life shutting the rest of the world out. For Miyoung, surviving was the main goal of life.
The living space of the apartment was small and cozy. The well-used couch slouching in the middle from decades of use. Yellow bujeoks fluttered against the door frame—talismans taped around the entryway to ward off bad energy.
Somin started on the kitchen, putting pots and pans into boxes. She wondered if they should save the mugs and dishes. Maybe Jihoon would want some later? Or was she overthinking this?
She wiped her arm against her sweaty forehead and turned to rummage through the fridge for a drink. It was empty. Honestly, Somin had no idea how those two had survived together in this apartment the last four months.
The front door opened and let in the noise of the outside.
That must be Oh Changwan, the final one of their motley crew. Late as usual. With some halfhearted plan to cheer herself up by giving Changwan hell, Somin stepped out of the kitchen. Changwan was tall and gangly. With a buzz cut that highlighted his too-big ears. He hated the cut, but his strict father insisted on it. Changwan was a sweet boy with a nervous energy that probably came from the high expectations his rich father had for his firstborn son. Somin always felt like Changwan would do much better with more carrot and less stick. But she also knew she couldn’t poke her nose into another family’s private business.
“I know, I know. I’m late. But I brought iced Americanos.” Changwan was trying to balance a tray of iced drinks and Somin almost wept with gratitude. There was no air-conditioning in theapartment, and she was roasting. But she stopped short as she saw who stood behind Changwan.
Where Changwan was tall and gangly, this other boy was tall and lean in an almost athletic way. Though, Somin had never seen Junu exercise once since she’d known him. He had the kind of figure that wore clothes well. His hair was silky and perfectly styled. His eyes were striking as they met hers. And Somin glared in greeting.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded.
“Why? You thought I only existed in your dreams?” Junu winked.
She almost groaned. She really hated this dokkaebi.
4
JUNU WOULD NEVERclaim the title of saint. Far from it, in fact. Even when he was human, he never pretended he held any more virtue than the average person. Still, he wasn’t a complete monster, though many would argue he was, seeing as he was a goblin. And honestly, he found it much easier to meet expectations most of the time. Which was why he was a bit perplexed with finding himself standing inside the threshold of Ahn Jihoon’s apartment. Or old apartment, he guessed, as he surveyed the packing boxes littering the floor.
He was really regretting all his decisions that day. Junu hated physical labor. This was not how he thought he’d be spending his Sunday when he woke up this morning.
Then there was Lee Somin, who stood, hands on hips, blocking his path. The pose was meant to threaten, but it only accentuated her short build. Junu acknowledged he was tall at 185 centimeters, but if he took a step forward, Somin’s face would be squarely planted in his chest. A funny image, now that he thought of it.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” Somin demanded.
If he were a lesser man, it would have frightened him. Okay, fine, it did frighten him a bit. But over his centuries of life, Junu had learned the power of a good bluff. Added to that, he wasn’t quite fully a man, per se.
“I bet I could pick you up and put you in my pocket,” Junu said. He knew exactly what reaction he would get from that. And as if on cue, Somin’s face reddened, her cheeks puffed out all cute, and her fists clenched. Junu shifted on his feet, ready to jump away if she came at him. He’d learned the hard way that Somin was as much bite as bark.
Still, it was worth it to see her eyes flare. They sparked like she held fire inside. It always intrigued him. This firecracker of a girl.
“What is he doing here?” Somin asked Changwan.
“I’m just here to help out. Looking to be assigned a job,” Junu replied before Changwan could.
“Changwan-ah, you’re here.” Somin’s mother rushed out of Halmeoni’s room. “Let me have one of those coffees.” Her mother took a sip, closing her eyes to savor the iced Americano.
“And, Junu,” she said, turning to the dokkaebi with a dazzling smile. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
He gave her a congenial smile and a small flush rose in her cheeks. With a bow he said, “Good to see you again, Somin’s eomeoni.”
“Oh, that makes me sound so old,” she said with a giggle.
“Youareold, Mother,” Somin said, taking a cup of coffee as well.
“Clean my black hole of a room, got it,” he said, his voice way too bright.
“Is he doing all right?” Somin asked Miyoung when Jihoon was gone.
“He’s surviving,” Miyoung said as she picked up a box and hauled it into the small bathroom.
Somin sighed. That wasn’t what she had asked. But she knew that Miyoung had lived the first eighteen years of her life shutting the rest of the world out. For Miyoung, surviving was the main goal of life.
The living space of the apartment was small and cozy. The well-used couch slouching in the middle from decades of use. Yellow bujeoks fluttered against the door frame—talismans taped around the entryway to ward off bad energy.
Somin started on the kitchen, putting pots and pans into boxes. She wondered if they should save the mugs and dishes. Maybe Jihoon would want some later? Or was she overthinking this?
She wiped her arm against her sweaty forehead and turned to rummage through the fridge for a drink. It was empty. Honestly, Somin had no idea how those two had survived together in this apartment the last four months.
The front door opened and let in the noise of the outside.
That must be Oh Changwan, the final one of their motley crew. Late as usual. With some halfhearted plan to cheer herself up by giving Changwan hell, Somin stepped out of the kitchen. Changwan was tall and gangly. With a buzz cut that highlighted his too-big ears. He hated the cut, but his strict father insisted on it. Changwan was a sweet boy with a nervous energy that probably came from the high expectations his rich father had for his firstborn son. Somin always felt like Changwan would do much better with more carrot and less stick. But she also knew she couldn’t poke her nose into another family’s private business.
“I know, I know. I’m late. But I brought iced Americanos.” Changwan was trying to balance a tray of iced drinks and Somin almost wept with gratitude. There was no air-conditioning in theapartment, and she was roasting. But she stopped short as she saw who stood behind Changwan.
Where Changwan was tall and gangly, this other boy was tall and lean in an almost athletic way. Though, Somin had never seen Junu exercise once since she’d known him. He had the kind of figure that wore clothes well. His hair was silky and perfectly styled. His eyes were striking as they met hers. And Somin glared in greeting.
“How did you get in here?” she demanded.
“Why? You thought I only existed in your dreams?” Junu winked.
She almost groaned. She really hated this dokkaebi.
4
JUNU WOULD NEVERclaim the title of saint. Far from it, in fact. Even when he was human, he never pretended he held any more virtue than the average person. Still, he wasn’t a complete monster, though many would argue he was, seeing as he was a goblin. And honestly, he found it much easier to meet expectations most of the time. Which was why he was a bit perplexed with finding himself standing inside the threshold of Ahn Jihoon’s apartment. Or old apartment, he guessed, as he surveyed the packing boxes littering the floor.
He was really regretting all his decisions that day. Junu hated physical labor. This was not how he thought he’d be spending his Sunday when he woke up this morning.
Then there was Lee Somin, who stood, hands on hips, blocking his path. The pose was meant to threaten, but it only accentuated her short build. Junu acknowledged he was tall at 185 centimeters, but if he took a step forward, Somin’s face would be squarely planted in his chest. A funny image, now that he thought of it.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” Somin demanded.
If he were a lesser man, it would have frightened him. Okay, fine, it did frighten him a bit. But over his centuries of life, Junu had learned the power of a good bluff. Added to that, he wasn’t quite fully a man, per se.
“I bet I could pick you up and put you in my pocket,” Junu said. He knew exactly what reaction he would get from that. And as if on cue, Somin’s face reddened, her cheeks puffed out all cute, and her fists clenched. Junu shifted on his feet, ready to jump away if she came at him. He’d learned the hard way that Somin was as much bite as bark.
Still, it was worth it to see her eyes flare. They sparked like she held fire inside. It always intrigued him. This firecracker of a girl.
“What is he doing here?” Somin asked Changwan.
“I’m just here to help out. Looking to be assigned a job,” Junu replied before Changwan could.
“Changwan-ah, you’re here.” Somin’s mother rushed out of Halmeoni’s room. “Let me have one of those coffees.” Her mother took a sip, closing her eyes to savor the iced Americano.
“And, Junu,” she said, turning to the dokkaebi with a dazzling smile. “I didn’t know you were coming.”
He gave her a congenial smile and a small flush rose in her cheeks. With a bow he said, “Good to see you again, Somin’s eomeoni.”
“Oh, that makes me sound so old,” she said with a giggle.
“Youareold, Mother,” Somin said, taking a cup of coffee as well.
Table of Contents
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