Page 102
Story: Wicked Fox
“You’re such a jerk always.” Miyoung replaced the water. “When are you going to get out of my apartment?”
“When your mother stops paying me to babysit her little darling. Your mother’s offers are hard to pass up. What kind of fool would say no to an all-expense-paid trip?” Junu sipped the juice and pulled out a slice of milk bread.
“Ya! That’s the last piece!”
“It’s the end piece,” he said, taking another huge bite. “You hate the end pieces.”
“Fine,” Miyoung conceded because he was right.
“Bad dream?” Junu asked.
Miyoung didn’t answer, which prompted Junu to poke her. “Jihoon?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m good at seeing when someone is heartsick,” Junu said with a sly smile.
“Oh, shove it.” Miyoung punched his shoulder.
He rubbed his arm indignantly. “Maybe I should ask for hazard pay.”
Miyoung frowned. She didn’t like that Junu knew Yena and apparently had for decades. It made all of her shady back-alley dealings with him seem worse somehow. But when her mother had needed someone who was good at getting information, someone who had connections in their world, she’d hired Junu. It had made for a tense first week where Miyoung wonderedif Junu would bring up the Taoist talisman and Nara. But the dokkaebi seemed to know not to poke that hornet’s nest, even as he spent most of his days prodding at Miyoung a thousand other ways.
“Where’s my mother?”
“Hong Kong.”
“When’s she coming back?” Miyoung’s voice rose with surprise.
“She’s not. We’re supposed to meet her when her little angel is back from the brink of death.”
“Do you really think I’m dying?” Miyoung asked. It was a question she could never bring herself to ask Yena. But she thought Junu would give her a straight answer.
“Why don’t you just feed?”
So not a straight answer, but an answer nonetheless. He also thought she’d die if she didn’t absorb gi.
“I can’t.”
“Humans die every day. But we are too beautiful to deny the world of our faces.” Junu shot her a mischievous grin.
Miyoung didn’t bother to explain. She knew Junu couldn’t understand. The idea that a gumiho could value human lives above her own. He was a dokkaebi. Everything he did was for his own personal gain.
Then she remembered her mother’s words. That her decision not to feed wasn’t a complete choice. She’d still run away. She was still a coward.
And finally she remembered Jihoon’s words from her dream.My halmeoni is sick. Please help us.
His halmeoni was alive? Miyoung had assumed she’d succumb to her lack of gi, but it seemed she was stronger than she’d looked.Still, if she was sick, then maybe the lack of energywasaffecting her, just slower than Miyoung had assumed. How could someone come back from losing so much gi?
Jihoon’s plea rang through her mind over and over.Please help us.His desperation had been so thick, it magnified the guilt already clogging her chest.
Miyoung stared out the window at the city of Osaka, just waking up for the day.
“I guess the kitsune angle didn’t get us anything,” Miyoung said, still watching the cityscape. Bright signs lit the streets as the city waited for the sun to rise. It was beautiful and vibrant, and it wasn’t home. “I don’t want to go to Hong Kong.”
“You want to stay here?”
“I want to go to Seoul.”
“When your mother stops paying me to babysit her little darling. Your mother’s offers are hard to pass up. What kind of fool would say no to an all-expense-paid trip?” Junu sipped the juice and pulled out a slice of milk bread.
“Ya! That’s the last piece!”
“It’s the end piece,” he said, taking another huge bite. “You hate the end pieces.”
“Fine,” Miyoung conceded because he was right.
“Bad dream?” Junu asked.
Miyoung didn’t answer, which prompted Junu to poke her. “Jihoon?”
“How did you know?”
“I’m good at seeing when someone is heartsick,” Junu said with a sly smile.
“Oh, shove it.” Miyoung punched his shoulder.
He rubbed his arm indignantly. “Maybe I should ask for hazard pay.”
Miyoung frowned. She didn’t like that Junu knew Yena and apparently had for decades. It made all of her shady back-alley dealings with him seem worse somehow. But when her mother had needed someone who was good at getting information, someone who had connections in their world, she’d hired Junu. It had made for a tense first week where Miyoung wonderedif Junu would bring up the Taoist talisman and Nara. But the dokkaebi seemed to know not to poke that hornet’s nest, even as he spent most of his days prodding at Miyoung a thousand other ways.
“Where’s my mother?”
“Hong Kong.”
“When’s she coming back?” Miyoung’s voice rose with surprise.
“She’s not. We’re supposed to meet her when her little angel is back from the brink of death.”
“Do you really think I’m dying?” Miyoung asked. It was a question she could never bring herself to ask Yena. But she thought Junu would give her a straight answer.
“Why don’t you just feed?”
So not a straight answer, but an answer nonetheless. He also thought she’d die if she didn’t absorb gi.
“I can’t.”
“Humans die every day. But we are too beautiful to deny the world of our faces.” Junu shot her a mischievous grin.
Miyoung didn’t bother to explain. She knew Junu couldn’t understand. The idea that a gumiho could value human lives above her own. He was a dokkaebi. Everything he did was for his own personal gain.
Then she remembered her mother’s words. That her decision not to feed wasn’t a complete choice. She’d still run away. She was still a coward.
And finally she remembered Jihoon’s words from her dream.My halmeoni is sick. Please help us.
His halmeoni was alive? Miyoung had assumed she’d succumb to her lack of gi, but it seemed she was stronger than she’d looked.Still, if she was sick, then maybe the lack of energywasaffecting her, just slower than Miyoung had assumed. How could someone come back from losing so much gi?
Jihoon’s plea rang through her mind over and over.Please help us.His desperation had been so thick, it magnified the guilt already clogging her chest.
Miyoung stared out the window at the city of Osaka, just waking up for the day.
“I guess the kitsune angle didn’t get us anything,” Miyoung said, still watching the cityscape. Bright signs lit the streets as the city waited for the sun to rise. It was beautiful and vibrant, and it wasn’t home. “I don’t want to go to Hong Kong.”
“You want to stay here?”
“I want to go to Seoul.”
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