Chapter Text
"Yoonchae!" her mother screamed from downstairs. "Are you awake? Come down, it's almost breakfast!"
Yoonchae adjusted the knot of her necktie around her uniform blouse and stepped out of her room. She walked downstairs, greeting her mother, who was already busy hovering over a pan in the kitchen, while her dad sat in the living room watching a sports game.
On the way to the kitchen island, Yoonchae paused at the wall calendar. A red marker circled a date just a few days away: Math Evaluation Quiz.
She needed to lock in, or else she would be beaten by Sophia. She could almost hear her voice, ha! I told you I got a higher grade than you! Which, technically, is like Sophia. Either way, she loved her deeply.
A few months ago, she was just an ordinary student in Seoul, adjusting to the relentless pace of city life. But her parents had grown tired of the noise and pollution. So they decided to look for something affordable, yet comfortable. Which led them to buy this two-story suburban house, away from the town where it's peaceful.
The transition from Seoul to the countryside was jarring for Yoonchae. How on earth was she going to school? Back in the city, it was easier for her to go since she only had to use her bicycle. Now, she had to use a bus, a train, and walk until she was in school. Plus, she was going to graduate. With the workload that she has, this was a huge transition for her.
"Eat up," her mother said as she slid a plate of eggs and rice across the counter. "How can you go to school? Do you know how, yes?"
"Eomma, I know," Yoonchae said as she gave her a reassuring smile. "We've been here for almost a month."
"We just want the best for you," her father called out from the living room, his gaze not breaking from the television screen. "And also, Lara and Sophia are welcome to come here later. Are you bringing Daniela and Manon too? Your international friends?"
Yoonchae giggled at his statement. She studies in an international school, where a lot of other people who had different ethnicity come around. For example, Lara is an Indian girl who had a scholarship in their school. And Daniela is a Latina girl who made her way to the school by her passion for art. Manon can sing and do a lot of things, so the school accepted her. And Sophia, the greatest of them all, was the smartest girl in the school—other than herself.
"Don't know about that," Yoonchae replied and took one more bite of her food. "Sophia's gotta study, and Lara has to spend time with her family after school. I'll be going home early."
"That's fortunate!" her mother clapped as she kissed Yoonchae's forehead. "Don't be so hard on yourself, okay? Tell them I said hello."
"Of course," Yoonchae said smoothly and smiled. "I'm sure they're sad that they won't come over for today."
When breakfast was over, Yoonchae cleared her plate, washed it in the sink, and headed back upstairs. She had exactly two hours before she needed to leave for class, and she refused to waste a single minute. Her bedroom was currently a battlefield of brown cardboard boxes, but Yoonchae was already anxious enough to unbox them.
She wasn't used to this. In the city, she had more friends. But this time, she lived in an area where people didn't really know how to use social media, and it would take her so much time until she had to go to her class. It's harder, but she could manage. She sliced through the tape of the first box with a utility knife, which contained her backpack. She hadn't opened it in a while, since she was so busy with her classes. So now, given this opportunity, she will use it instead of a tote bag that hurt her shoulders.
She moved to the next box, unpacking her highlighters, pens, and flashcards, placing them into neat acrylic dividers inside her desk drawer. Every item had a designated spot. In her mind, if her environment was in order, if her notes were in order, then her parents would be proud of her.
Taking a brief break, Yoonchae walked over to the window to close it against the morning chill. She paused, as she rested her hand on the glass.
Outside, the backyard ended where the dark treeline was in the distance. The forest looked vast, with thick canopy of trees blocking out most of the morning sunlight. It was a stark contrast to her hyper-organized room. Out there, the nature was wild.
Yoonchae frowned slightly, feeling a strange, fleeting prickle of unease as she stared into the shadows of the woods.
There was a figure that didn't look right.
Either way, she shook her head. She decided to pull the window shut completely and locked it. She didn't have time to stare at the trees, because now she was going to be late for class. If she didn't leave now, then the train wouldn't wait for her. Glancing at the clock, she grabbed her back and went downstairs, kissing her parents goodbye.
Life is so strange if you never planned it.
The multi-layered commute from the countryside into Seoul was exactly as draining as Yoonchae had anticipated. By the time she walked through the heavy glass doors of the international academy, her uniform was still intact, but her legs ached from the sequence of the bus, the train, and the uphill trek from the station.
Yet, the moment she stepped into the hallway, her posture relaxed for a bit. Now, this is something like home, she thought. She walked down the hallway when she sees her teacher and smiled at him.
"Good morning, Mr. Kim," she greeted politely.
"Ah, Yoonchae! Good morning," Mr. Kim smiled, his stressful expression already softening. There were some teachers that loved her, since she was such an academic achiever. Besides Sophia, she was also smart. But they go hand in hand.
As she walked to her desk near the window, she could feel the eyes on her. It wasn't malice; it was admiration mixed with a healthy dose of intimidation. To the rest of the student body, Jeung Yoonchae was a flawless entity. She didn't get flustered, she didn't participate in school gossip, and her uniform never looked rumpled, even after a two-hour commute. She was a golden girl, but she was entirely untouchable.
During advanced calculus—the second period of the day—the teacher tapped a piece of chalk against a complex equation on the whiteboard.
"Can anyone identify the error in the derivative integration here?" the teacher asked, scanning the room. Half the students actively looked down at their desks, praying to avoid eye contact.
Yoonchae didn't look down, but she raised her hand with confidence. "The constant of integration was dropped in the second step, sir. It shifts the entire slope of the tangent line."
"Excellent!" the teacher clasped his hands together. "Thank you, Yoonchae. Perfect as always."
Some students quietly groaned, but Yoonchae didn't mind. She didn't know whether she was exactly being picked on, but she also didn't care because that wasn't her goal. Her goal in life was to be a doctor, so she could help the people who are in need. Especially since Healthcare is quite expensive in Seoul, even in many other countries.
A boy behind her tapped on her shoulder as she looked from behind.
"Hey, Yoonchae," he smiled at her. "Could I borrow a pen? I lost mine."
The boy's name is Martin, who is a basketball player in their school. A lot of girls do fan girl over him, and Yoonchae could definitely see the appeal. He was tall, had the best blonde hair, and perfect good jawline. Even guys were impressed by him.
But Yoonchae somehow… Found him annoying. One time, while she was over at Daniela's house, the Latina mentioned that Martin had a crush on her. And even if Yoonchae denies this fact, Lara made a point that the only girl he talked to was Yoonchae.
"Is it because they're both Korean?" Daniela once asked.
"No," Lara shook her head. "It's because I think everyone knows Martin's gay."
By the third period, however, the grueling commute and the concentration required to maintain her streak of flawless answers began to take their toll. Yoonchae could feel an ache that throbbed in her head. Sitting at her desk, she raised her hand, and her thumb on forefinger gently kneading her temples to remove the pain.
"Hey, your head looks like it's about to explode."
Yoonchae blinked and looked up. Sophia was leaning against the edge of the adjacent desk, watching her with a deeply maternal expression. Without a word, Sophia slid a small, silver foil packet onto Yoonchae's open notebook. It was a premium ginseng chewable and two electrolyte tablets.
"Take them," Sophia said softly. "You’ve been staring at that blackboard like you’re trying to burn a hole through it with your mind. Balance, Yoonchae. You need to breathe!"
Before Yoonchae could formulate her standard I'm completely fine response, Lara slid into the seat right in front of them, turning around with a sharp, wicked grin.
"Don't bother," Lara whispered, her voice dripping with amusement as she nodded toward the teacher currently writing vocabulary words on the board. "Old man Choi hasn't blinked in forty-five minutes. I’m convinced he’s actually a highly advanced animatronic programmed specifically to destroy our youth and vitality. If you faint, Yoonchae, he’ll just write a detention slip for dying on school property."
Yoonchae pressed her hand over her mouth, trying to hold a laugh that might slip out of her lips. Lara knew exactly how to make her laugh, especially since she was kind of the joker in the group—other than Manon.
"He isn't an animatronic, Lara," Yoonchae whispered back, her headache already receding slightly. "He just takes historical linguistics very seriously."
"Too seriously," a new voice chimed in.
Yoonchae could see Daniela and Manon walked up, having just finished their assignments early. Daniela leaned over Lara’s shoulder, her eyes bright with energy. "Speaking of survival, we are going to that new cafe down the street for lunch! And you, Yoonchae, will come with us."
"I can't go," Sophia whined and lolled her head back. "I've got to study, you know how mama gets."
"Your mom is hot!" Daniela joked, but she earned a jab from Sophia's elbow, causing her to wince. "Damn, you now I'm just joking."
"Yeah," Manon added, her low voice carrying an effortless charm as she adjusted her bag. "We need to get out of this building before the fluorescent lights permanently bleach our brains. Come on, it’s a group mandate."
Looking at the four of them, Yoonchae felt like she was at home. With Sophia’s warmth, Lara’s wit, Daniela’s vibrant enthusiasm, and Manon’s easygoing presence, Yoonchae felt a familiar tug in her chest. They were her friends. They genuinely cared about her. They were pulling her into their warm, chaotic circle, offering her a space to just relax.
But the phantom weight of the red circle on her calendar loomed large in her mind. Her parents’ expectations were a silent, invisible shadow tethering her to her desk. She had to study, just like Sophia. And if she didn't study, she will fail that exam. And she just… Didn't want to disappoint her parents.
"I’d love to," Yoonchae said. "But I brought lunch today, and I have to finish prepping my notes for the evaluation during break. But you guys go—"
"Hell no!" Manon yelled, causing everyone to look at her. She suddenly covered her mouth and shook her head, laughing inwardly. "Okay, that was loud. Anyway, you gotta go! Sophia, please?"
"I can't either," Sophia mumbled as she scrolled on her phone while Manon poked her. "Mama needs me to be home early. Plus, do you really think we have the money to eat out?"
"Fine," Daniela sighed with a pout and sat down beside Lara. "Even though I believe Sophia's mom is hot—"
"Definitely out of pocket, Daniela," Sophia interrupted and rolled her eyes.
Daniela blinked at her and chuckled. "Whatever. As I was saying, we'll just bring you a dessert or something."
"Deal," Yoonchae smiled.
"And after class, we're heading to the karaoke rooms near the station," Daniela announced and slid her arm around Lara's neck. "And then, we are eating tteokbokki."
"Sounds very fun," Yoonchae muttered while closing her notes. "You're making me jealous."
"Please?" Manon begged. "Yoonchae, you're not from the city anymore! How else are we going to see you?"
Yoonchae zipped her backpack and looked at her friends, who were all waiting for her response. She wanted to say yes—so badly it hurts her chest. But she also didn't have time, as she had to go back home since there were many people going home around this hour. Which means, she would come home late.
"I'm sorry guys," Yoonchae sighed with regret. "The commute back to our new house takes forever, and I promised my mom I'd be home early today to help her finish unpack the kitchen boxes."
"Always the model daughter," Lara teased gently, though there was a faint note of disappointment in her voice. "Fine, go. Save your mother. But tomorrow, we are holding you hostage."
"I'll be ready for it," Yoonchae lied smoothly.
She waved goodbye, turning on her heel and walked out of the classroom. As she navigated the crowded hallways, her smile remained perfectly intact for every passing teacher and student who greeted her. She was Jeung Yoonchae. The golden girl.
Besides Sophia, of course. Or maybe she's the second golden girl, and Sophia's the first.
It wasn't until she passed through the heavy school gates and started the long walk toward the train station, completely alone, that she finally let her shoulders drop. She let out a long, slow sigh, the mask slipping away in the cold afternoon air as she prepared herself for the grueling journey back to the house on the edge of the dark forest.
She received a text message from Sophia a couple of minutes later, making her laugh.
Pia <3
u wanna study call later?
if u lose ill steal ur lunch
sounds fun, Sophia
fine
The train ride had been exhausting, but the twenty-minute bus ride from the local station to her actual neighborhood was what truly drained the last of Yoonchae’s energy. By the time she stepped onto her street, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, burying the countryside in complete darkness.
In Seoul, nightfall just meant a shift from sunlight to neon signs and streetlamps. Here, nightfall felt like an entire world shutting down.
Yoonchae adjusted the strap of her heavy backpack and pulled her school blazer tighter around herself. The air had turned bitterly cold, with a sense of dampness that clung to her skin. Her house was the last one on the block, sitting isolated at the dead end of a gravel road that directly bordered the forest. To her left, the treeline looked like a solid, towering wall of black ink.
"Great," Yoonchae muttered to herself, her voice sounding small and fragile against the vast silence of the country road. "Just great. I'm never going home this late again, Eomma is gonna kill me."
She walked faster wither her loafers crunching loudly against the gravel. She could hear the sound of her own footsteps seemed to echo, bouncing back from the woods. She rubbed her arms, trying to generate some heat. "It's so cold! God, this blazer doesn't do any justice."
She stood in front of the woods, feeling that eerie chill that crept on her neck.
Okay, she thought. Maybe next time don't go home this late.
"It's just a road," she whispered to herself. "It's literally just trees! If you could survive the city, then this is nothing to you. Right? Right."
But she couldn't shake the heavy feeling that the forest was watching her. The wind picked up, making the branches rub against each other with a dry creak that set her teeth on edge. As the familiar silhouette of her two-story house finally came into view, Yoonchae let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
"Thank god," she whispered, shaking her head. "Eomma is never going to let me live it down if I tell her I got scared of the dark at my big age."
She was only fifty yards away when the silence shattered. Yoonchae looked over her shoulder frantically, wondering where the sound came from.
It wasn't a bird, and it wasn't the wind. It was a low, ragged sound—a desperate, pitiful whimpering that cut through the cold air. Yoonchae froze in her step, as her heart suddenly leaped into her throat.
"What the…" she murmured under her breath.
Yoonchae has watched a lot of horror films. And this wasn't supposed to be her destiny. She cannot die, especially since she was the only girl in her family! Her sister, who was a bit older than her, depended on her. And this wasn't the time of her death. It can't be.
Yoonchae chuckled nervously to herself as her hand reached into her blazer pocket, gripping her phone. "Just a stray dog," she reasoned aloud, but her voice trembled. "Just a fucking stray dog, right? A lot of dogs live here. The neighbors even said that there are wild boards and stray animals live out here. Come on, it's not even a big deal!"
She forced her legs to move, and walked deeper into the gravel. She could see a dim, yellow glow of porch light that was from her house.
But she noticed something that was… Wrong.
There was a heavy clutter her father neatly lined up by the side of the house were it was flipped over. There were leftover rice, vegetable peelings, and wrappers that are now scattered across the concrete. Strange, she thought. Something must've had dragged the contents toward the woods.
"Definitely a wild dog," Yoonchae whispered, her lips suddenly had gone dry from the cold. She pulled out her phone and flicked on the flashlight. "Hey! I know you're there, so shoo! Go away! Get out of here!"
She aimed the light toward the overturned bins, expecting to see a stray mutt or a raccoon scuttling away. But instead, the beam caught a flash of skin. Her breath suddenly hitched, and she couldn't move.
Crouched in the narrow, pitch-black space behind the wooden shed was a human silhouette. The figure was on all fours, tattered, and in oversized clothes from the thin frame. As the flashlight beam hit her face, the girl instantly recoiled—letting out a sharp, feral hiss that sounded completely animalistic. Her hair was a wild, a tangled mess. And her hands, pressed flat against the dirt, were covered in mud and grease from the trash.
Yoonchae stared through the light, her mind completely jungled up as she looked at the terrified, wild girl crouching in the dirt of her front yard.
Why is there a girl that is on all fours?!
"Oh my god," Yoonchae breathed, her composure vanishing in an instant as her phone trembled in her hand. "You're... you're a person."
She was crouched squarely on all fours, as her weight distributed on her hands like a predatory animal keeping its center of gravity low, ready to spring or bolt. Her bare knees, visible through the rips of her oversized trousers, were scraped raw and bleeding slightly.
But it was her chest that drew Yoonchae's attention. It heaved violently, which could possible mean that the girl didn't look so comfortable. Every few seconds, a low growl rattled in the back of the girl’s throat. It was a warning sound, which Yoonchae assumed.
And her eyes were completely brown. The moment Yoonchae brought the phone closer to her face, made the girl startle as she began to whimper. So Yoonchae immediately took a step back and sighed.
This was undeniably strange. Who was this girl and why was she dirty? Why did she look like she hadn't taken a bath for weeks? And Yoonchae recoiled, because the stench from the girl was enormous.
Yoonchae’s mind fractured into two loud, competing thoughts. One told her to scream. She could scream and call the police, maybe even her parents to get involved. That was the most reasonable one, because that's something a normal person should do.
Or two, she could take care of her. The girl didn't look like she was going to hurt her—as much as she wants to tell herself that. She looked past the dirt and saw the girl's frame shivering, with her mouth agape. She could even see the hunger in her eyes, which didn't feel like a threat. Maybe the girl was simply hungry.
If Yoonchae called the police, what would they even do to the girl? Maybe she had a family, or not. She wasn't sure, but the girl definitely needed to eat.
"H-Hey," Yoonchae murmured softly. "What's your name?"
The girl's growl spiked, as her shoulders tensed and drew back.
"I'm not gonna hurt you," Yoonchae whispered. She took a step forward, her loafers barely making a sound on the ground. She lowered her phone slightly, angling the beam away from the girl's face so she didn't look uncomfortable. "My hands are empty. See?"
She held out her left hand, her palm facing upward, and kept her movements fluid and entirely non-threatening. God, I hope so, she thought to herself.
The girl's head tilted slightly, as her nostrils flared and sniffed the air, tracking the scent of Yoonchae's uniform. The growl in her throat dipped, transitioning into a confused whimper.
"You look cold," Yoonchae whispered as her heart hammered against her chest. You're crazy for this! she thought. "A-And you're hungry, aren't you?"
Yoonchae slid the strap of her backpack off her shoulder as the girl watched her with suspicion, her muscles locked to prepare to jump over the fence. Yoonchae lets out a nervous chuckle and shook her head.
"I'm just getting something for you," Yoonchae crooned and unzipped the front pocket with a tiny motion. She reached inside and pulled out her lunch box that her mother packed this morning. It was untouched, which now Yoonchae can have an excuse that she did eat her lunch.
Slowly, Yoonchae knelt on one knee in the dirt, disregarding the fact that she was ruining her school uniform. She unlatched the lid and revealed a neat arrangement of rolled egg omelets, seasoned rice, and grilled beef pieces. The scent of sesame oil and cooked meat immediately bloomed through the air.
The effect on the girl was instantaneous. Her pupils dilated, and the panic in her eyes was taken over by starvation. Yoonchae could see a thick drop of saliva pooled at the corner of her mouth.
She sighed and set the open container on the gravel, giving the girl a bit of space. "It's yours, go eat."
Before Yoonchae could take another step back, the girl lunged forward. It was a shocking burst of speed, and Yoonchae's eyes widen when the girl didn't even use the utensils. In fact, the girl didn't even use two hands properly. She shoved her dirt-caked fingers into the metal box, grabbing a fistful of rice and beef as she shoved it into her mouth.
She ate like a Barbarian that hadn't eaten food in weeks, swallowing almost without chewing while making a choked, desperate noises of satisfaction.
Yet, even as she shoved the food down her throat, her eyes never left Yoonchae. They stayed locked on the blonde girl, fiercely tracking her every breath, ensuring that the source of this food wasn't going to suddenly turn into a waste. Yoonchae watched in a trance, as her chest ached with a mixture of pity and awe.
This girl looked pure, as if she didn't have any survival instincts.
Within two minutes, the lunch bx was scraped entirely clean. The girl even licked the stray grains of rice off her dirty knuckles, eating everything until it was gone. When it was over, the yard fell back into silence. She satback on her haunches, as her chest heaved. But the growl was gone, which made Yoonchae feel relieved.
Slowly, the girl tilted her head to the side, as her tangled hair shifting over her shoulder. She looked at Yoonchae with curiosity.
It was the exact same way a stray puppy looked at someone who had thrown a bone across the yard, playing fetch.
Yoonchae felt a strange warmth flushed through her limbs despite the cold. Looking at those big eyes, she was reminded of the old, worn puppy plushie she kept tucked away in the back of her closet. That was her childhood stuffed toy, but she never took it out again. It was named Megan, short for Mei-Mei.
"Mei-Mei," Yoonchae whispered as the name slipped past her lips. "You look just like my Mei-Mei."
The girl blinked at the sound of the voice. She took a tentative, shaky step forward, her hand reaching out toward Yoonchae, as her fingers hovered in the air—trying to touch the hem of Yoonchae's skirt.
But suddenly, the burst of energy from the food wasn't enough to sustain her. Halfway through her step, the girl's eyes rolled back. Her knees buckled beneath her. And with a heavy thud, she collapsed forward, falling unconscious right across Yoonchae's loafers, her head resting against the ground.
Yoonchae stood frozen under the dim glow of the porch light, her heart pounding frantically against her ribs. What the hell do I do now? she thought. I can't just… Keep her.
The cold wind howled from the dark forest, but all she could feel was the heavy, exhausting warmth of the unconscious girl resting against her feet. She looked down at the dirt, the ruined lunch box, and the wild stranger with a realization washing over her.
She didn't want to hurt this girl.
Megan looked peaceful.
After a while, the girl grunted as her knees started to buckle. Yoonchae takes a deep breath as she muttered, "Come on, Just… Up? Yeah, get up. Come on."
The girl grunted, her knees buckling as she tried to hook the girl’s mud-stained arm over her shoulder. The fabric of the oversized shirt was damp and bit into Yoonchae’s neck. Leaving a cold, gritty smear of dirt against her skin. Every muscle in Yoonchae’s eighteen-year-old frame screamed in protest. Her loafers slipped against the slick gravel of the driveway, then caught on the first wooden step of the porch.
I'm never being this nice again, she thought to herself. She figured that if she talked this way to the girl, she might understand her. Which, technically, she hoped that wasn't going to happen.
The girl was heavy. She lolled her head back, a wild mass of tangled hair and dried leaves brushing against Yoonchae’s cheek. The smell of the forest mixed with the sharp scent of raw panic rolled off her, but Yoonchae refused to let go. The thought of leaving a human being to freeze to death on the gravel was entirely incompatible with the hyper-responsible, perfect daughter persona she maintained.
Shifting her grip, Yoonchae dragged the girl up the final step. Her hands were shaking from the exertion, her uniform skirt twisted, and her school stockings were thoroughly ruined, caked in dark mud. Gritting her teeth, she leaned her weight forward and kicked the front door open. The heavy door swung back with a violent crash, instantly disturbing the immaculate atmosphere of the household.
With a final, desperate heave, Yoonchae stumbled across the threshold. The grip on her shoulder slipped, and the stranger collapsed onto the polished wooden floor of the entryway with a loud, heavy thud. The girl lay there, a disheveled heap of tattered shirt and mud, with a slow snore coming out of her throat.
A sharp shatter echoed from the kitchen.
"Yoonchae-ya!" her mother shrieked. The glass bowl she had been holding lay in pieces on the tile, completely forgotten. Her mother scrambled backward, as her hands flied to her face that was in pure horror. She spoke rapidly, "Yoonchae-ya! Move away from her! Neo michyeosseo?! What on earth is that?! Is she a beggar? A disease? Get away!"
"Eomma!"
"Who's in the house?" her father's voice boomed from the living room as Yoonchae watched her father rushed into the hallway, his face suddenly gone pale. In his hands, he grabbed a golf club from the corner and held it up like a weapon.
"Appa!" Yoonchae screamed and raised her hands. "Listen—"
"Who is this? Yoonchae, step back right now! Did she attack you?! Is she a robber?!"
"Appa, put the golf club down! She didn't attack me!" Yoonchae pleaded, her voice rising to cut through the escalating shouting match.
The front hallway was absolute chaos. Her mother was hyperventilating against the kitchen counter, shouting about germs and home invasions, while her father kept pacing in a defensive stance, the golf club trembling in his white-knuckled grip as he stared at the snoring heap on his clean rug.
"Look at the floor!" Her mother wailed, pointing a frantic finger at the dark trails of mud and wet leaves smeared across the white entryway. "The hardwood is ruined! She’s covered in filth! Who is she, Yoonchae? Tell me right now before I call the emergency line!"
"She's just a girl, Eomma! She's unconscious!"
A slow, rhythmic clapping sound suddenly drifted down from the second-floor. Yoonchae looked up and it was her older sister leaning casually against the baneter, a green apple visible in her hand. She took a one long look at the girl, noticing the mud all over her body while snoring.
"Oh shit," her sister wheezed and walked down the stairs slowly, entirely unaffected by the situation. "What did you drag home, Chae? Did you go fishing in a swamp or something? She looks like a literal homeless gremlin."
"Unnie, stop it," Yoonchae snapped as her patience wavered thin. "This isn't funny."
"It's quite funny to me, actually," her sister said in mockery, pointing the apple at the girl's tangled hair. "Look at her! Are you starting a zoo or something? Did you think she was some kind of a stray puppy? Eomma, look, Yoonchae brought home a dog to replace her stuffed toys!"
"Be quiet!" Appa ordered his eldest daughter, though his eyes never left the stranger. He nudged the girl’s muddy boot with the tip of his golf club. "Yoonchae, explain this. Why is a vagrant sleeping in our entryway? Did she threaten you on the way home?"
"No! She didn't threaten anyone," Yoonchae said, stepping directly between her parents and the sleeping girl. She took a deep breath and forced her shoulders to drop, leaving the whole golden girl persona behind. Of course, she didn't like her sister's banter. And her name is Karlee, the menace of the family.
"Appa, Eomma, listen to me," Yoonchae said in a clear and calm voice. "I was… I was walking up the driveway when I heard a sound by the shed. A-At first, I thought it was some dog—"
"Looks like a dog to me," Karlee interrupted, making Yoonchae hiss.
"Can you shut up?!" Yoonchae sighed angrily and pointed at the girl with her hand. "She was hiding there, in the shed! And she looked terrified, shivering from the cold. I gave her my lunch box and she ate it in ten seconds before completely collapsing right at my feet."
There was a moment of silence, which Yoonchae hated. Because right now, she could feel that everyone was staring at her.
Oh, boy.
"So you dragged a strange, violent-looking runaway into our home?" Eomma hissed, clutching her chest. "Without knowing who she is? She could have a knife! She could be crazy!"
"Does she look like she has a knife?" Yoonchae reasoned softly, gesturing to the limp, pathetic form of the girl. "She's wearing clothes that don't even fit her. She’s freezing, too! If I had left her out there on the gravel, she wouldn't have survived the night. We live near the woods now. We can't just throw a human being back into the dark like she’s garbage."
Her father lowered the golf club, his brow furrowed in deep conflict. "We don't know her background, Yoonchae. This is dangerous. What if her family is looking for her? What if she ran away from a facility?"
"Then we will figure that out tomorrow," Yoonchae countered smoothly, her gaze steady. "But right now, throwing her out makes us responsible for whatever happens to her. Is that who we are? Is that what we do?"
Her father sighed as he left his golf club against the floor, using his free hand to grab his phone from his pocket and dialed the local township police station. Yoonchae took another deep breath and stood near the girl, who slept peacefully on the floor. If I didn'tsave you, you would die, she thought.
But the girl looked harmless.
She hoped she was.
"Yes," her father muttered as he rubbed his temples. "No, she has no identification. She's unresponsive, passed out in our floor."
"You sure about that, sir? What if she has some documents?"
"Nothing!" her father raised his voice, but remained calm. "I-I mean… She's covered in mud, that's it. I can't even recognize the girl."
There was a long pause as the officer lazily checked their regional database. Yoonchae watched her father’s face drop into a deep frown.
"Nothing?" her father asked incredulously. "Are you sure?"
The line crackled. The police had checked for any active missing persons reports or runaways in the entire province. The result was a complete dead end. Absolutely nothing came up. No reported runaways, no missing teenagers matching her description, and certainly no one matching the wild, chaotic state of the girl on their floor. To make matters worse, a sudden sheet of rain began to lash violently against the windows. The officer flatly informed her father that because it was too late and the weather had turned stormy, they wouldn't be sending a patrol car until tomorrow morning.
The phone clicked shut. "They'll be here at eight," her father announced grimly.
"Well, she isn't staying in the entryway, and she is absolutely not touching any proper furniture," Eomma declared, her voice sharp with a mix of anxiety and horror. "Look at her! If she gets on the sofa, we’ll have to burn the cushions."
After a bitter round of family bickering, a reluctant agreement was reached. They would let the stranger stay for just one night, tucked safely out of sight. Eomma pointed firmly toward the utility room at the back of the kitchen.
Yoonchae nodded, immediately moving to the hallway closet. She brought down an old, thin foam mat and a bundle of tattered blankets they had used for packing breakables during the move. Working quickly under her mother's watchful eye, Yoonchae spread the makeshift bed across the cold linoleum floor of the utility room. Together, she and her father managed to shift the unconscious girl onto the mat, covering her up to her chin.
By 2:00 AM, the house had finally grown quiet. But the peace didn't last.
A sharp, metallic clatter from the kitchen woke the entire household. Yoonchae bolted out of her room, meeting her parents and her older sister at the top of the stairs. They crept down together, with her father leading the way with his flashlight.
When they reached the kitchen doorway, the beam of light illuminated a scene of complete, bizarre disorientation. The stranger had abruptly woken up.
She didn't speak. She didn't cry out in confusion or look around the unfamiliar room like a normal human runaway would. Instead, the moment she sensed their presence, she dropped instantly back onto all fours. Her posture was rigidly defensive, her spine slightly arched, and her eyes twinkled.
Twinkled.
What have I brought? Yoonchae thought.
Her father swallowed hard as he slowly set down a plastic bowl filled with water that was from the sink. "Here," he said cautiously, gesturing to it. "Water. Drink."
The girl didn't reach for the bowl. Instead, she crept forward on her hands and knees, and began heaving as she lowered her face into the plastic container. Right before their eyes, she began to lap the water straight out of the bowl with her tongue—making loud, messy, splashing noises that echoed through the kitchen.
"What is she doing?" her mother whispered as she gripped on her father's arm tightly.
Before anyone could answer, the girl finished drinking. She backed away from the bowl with her wild eyes fixed on the family as she retreated to the foam mat. And then she did something that made Yoonchae's breath hitch in her throat.
The girl walked in a circle exactly three times on top of the mat. As she turned, she scratched her fingernails on the blanket, clearly trying to make a nest. Once she was satisfied, she collapsed, forming her body into a ball as her nose tucked deeply under her arm.
They stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, staring at the strange girl.
The girl walked in a tight, meticulous circle exactly three times on top of the mat. As she turned, she scratched aggressively at the fabric of the tattered blankets with her dirty fingernails, clearly trying to "make a nest." Satisfied with her work, she finally collapsed into a tight, rigid ball, tucking her nose deeply under her arm and going completely still.
The family stood frozen in the kitchen doorway, staring in absolute, paralyzed confusion.
Karlee's smirk vanished as she lowered her hand, her voice suddenly dropped in a breathless whisper. "Okay, you're right. She's not a fucking—"
"I know," Yoonchae nodded and crossed her arms over her chest. "That's a dog."
"Fuck yeah," Karlee nodded with her and stared at the girl.
Well, that's one thing for sure.
The alarm hadn't even gone off when Yoonchae gave up on sleep. By 5:30 AM, she was already dressed in her school uniform, the pleated skirt and stiff collar offering a familiar, grounding structure. She crept down the stairs, her socks sliding silently against the wood. The storm had spent itself hours ago, leaving behind a freezing stillness.
The house felt like an icebox as Yoonchae rubbed her arms, her breath forming faint plumes in the air as she neared the utility room. As she entered, she sees Megan wasn't sleeping.
Megan, she thought. Am I seriously going to call her that?
The girl was awake, sitting on her haunches in the corner of the room, as her back pressed against the wall. Her posture was rigid. The moment the fabric of Yoonchae’s uniform rustled, Megan’s head snapped toward the sound. Those brown eyes locked onto Yoonchae, wide and unblinking, tracking the slight rise and fall of her chest.
Yoonchae held her breath and kept her hands visible. It felt like stepping into an enclosure with a stray golde retriever.
"Good morning," Yoonchae murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "H-How's your sleep?"
Megan didn't move, she didn't even blink. But there was a slight flare of her nostrils that she was awake. Turning to the kitchen counter, Yoonchae picked up a piece of toast that was left from the night before. She held it out, extending her arm as it would go while keeping her weight on her back foot, ready to run away if Megan would bite her.
"Here," Yoonchae said, keeping her tone even and low. "It's just bread."
Megan's eyes darted from Yoonchae's face to the toast. For three seconds, the room was silent. Yoonchae was sure enough that the girl was going to attack her—she was preparing for her deathbed.
And then, all of a sudden, Megan lunged as her fingers snatched the bread from Yoonchae's hand. She flinched as she pulled her hand back, furrowing her eyebrows.
"Hey!" Yoonchae called out. "You're very rude."
Megan returned to the corner and crammed the entire piece of toast into her mouth, swallowing it without even chewing. Once she was finished, she licked her lips and returned her eyes back to Yoonchae, clearly demanding more.
She growled.
"That's all I have right now," Yoonchae sighed and crossed her arms. "You'll have to wait."
Megan tilted her head, slowly shifting her weight. She lowered herself onto all fours once again, as she crawled toward Yoonchae slowly.
Yoonchae froze. Every instinct told her to back out of the room and lock the door, but she forced her feet to stay glued onto the ground.
You're no pussy, she thought. This is just… Some girl. Whatever her name was. Sure, I'll call her Megan. No, Mei-Mei. Oh my god.
Megan didn't look up at Yoonchae's face. Instead, she dropped her nose to the hem of Yoonchae’s school skirt, inhaling deeply.
Yoonchae wondered whether this girl was some kind of pervert or not.
But she didn't say anything, because Megan looked deeply confused and curious. Perhaps she was just checking her scent, perhaps she could be a pervert. Who knows? The fabric fluttered as Megan took short, rapid breaths, memorizing the scent. As Megan continued to smell, a floorboard creaked upstairs.
Megan scrambled backward, as her nailed scratched against the floor and vanished back into the dark corner of the room. She looked like she was panicking, and Yoonchae stepped back into the kitchen, pulling the door shut.
"Appa?" Yoonchae called out as she entered the living room, looking out the window. She could see a patrol car pulled into the driveway, making her heart stutter. Are they going to arrest the girl? They should, because Megan was a complete stranger.
But somehow, Yoonchae didn't want that to happen.
Two officers came into the room, offering Yoonchae a polite smile as they bowed to her. This was the countryside after all.
"Good morning," the officer said to Yoonchae and smiled at her father.
Yoonchae retreated to the edge of the hallway, standing near the kitchen door. She kept her posture straight, trying to calm herself down. The officers sat heavily on the plastic-wrapped sofa. The older of the two, Officer Park, pulled a small notebook from his breast pocket and clicked a ballpoint pen. He looked at her father, then at her mother.
"Alright," Officer Park said. "Let’s start from the beginning. Where exactly did you find her?"
"Right out there," her father pointed toward the yard. "Behind the garden shed. My daughter found her on her way home from school."
The pen scratched against the wrinkled paper. "Any identification on her? A phone? A wallet?"
"Nothing," her mother chimed in, her voice high and tight. "Just tattered clothes. She was covered in mud and leaves. We think she might be a runaway from one of the welfare centers three towns over."
"We checked the database before we drove out," the younger officer, a man named Lu, said as he leaned back. "No active missing person reports match that description in our entire district. Girls don't just vanish into these woods without someone noticing."
He pocketed his hands and looked toward the hallway. "Where is she now?"
"In the utility room," her father said, gesturing toward the kitchen. "She woke up a few hours ago. But she isn't... she isn't speaking."
Officer Lu grunted and stood up. "Let’s take a look."
Yoonchae felt her chest tighten as the officer walked past her. She followed him into the kitchen, her heart thumping against her ribs. The utility room door was cracked open. Officer Lu didn't hesitate; he pushed it wide, his heavy boots thudding against the floor.
Megan was still in her corner, curled tight on the foam mat. In the bright morning light, the dirt on her skin looked even starker against the walls.
"Hey there," Officer Lu said, taking a step into the small room. He loomed over her, a large man clad in a dark, imposing authority uniform. "Time to wake up, kid. Let’s get you out of here."
Megan didn't flinch or whimper. The moment the officer’s shadow fell over her, her entire demeanor shifted into something deadly. She dropped onto all fours, her muscles coiling like a struck wire. Her lips pulled back, exposing her white teeth in a silent, savage snarl.
Officer Lu froze, his hand stopping mid-air.
Yoonchae hears a sound in the room that definitely wasn't a human cry or shout; it was a deep rattle that came from the center of Megan's chest. Her brown eyes fixed on the officer's throat, looking at him lethally.
"Hey!" Yoonchae called out as she stepped inside, but her father held her wrist. "You gotta be careful! She might…"
He stumbled backward, his boot catching on the edge of the mat. His face turned a stark, pale white as his right hand instinctively flew to his belt, gripping the handle of his holster.
"Li! What the hell is going on?!" Officer Park shouted from the living room, the scratch of his pen stopping instantly.
"Don't move," Lu whispered, his voice cracking as he kept his eyes locked on the growling girl. "Park... get back here. Something is wrong with this kid."
Officer Park shuffled in from the living room, took one look at the snarling teenager on the floor, and clicked his pen shut.
"Well," he sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "She’s not going in the backseat of the Sonata."
"She’ll tear the upholstery to pieces," Lu agreed, slowly moving his hand away from his weapon, though his eyes never left the girl. "And honestly, where would we even put her? The juvenile crisis shelter in Namyangju is packed. I called them yesterday about a runaway tracker-thief, and the director told me they’re sleeping two to a cot."
Park nodded and pulled out a compact fingerprint from his tactical vest. "Let's just get a scan. If she's got a record, the system will flag her, and then she's the district office's problem."
"Strange town," her father muttered beside Yoonchae.
And she couldn't agree more.
He took a tentative step forward, keeping his knees bent as if approaching an unexploded bomb. He knelt at the edge of the mat, holding out the small screen. "Alright, kiddo. Just a thumb. Give me a thumb."
The second Park’s fingers brushed the back of her hand, the utility room exploded. Megan didn't just pull away; she thrashed with a terrifying, chaotic velocity. Her limbs blurred as she struck out, her head snapping forward to bite at the air an inch from Park’s knuckles. The plastic scanner went flying, skittering across the floor and slamming into the base of the refrigerator.
"Jesus! She’s like a bag of wet cats!" Park scrambled backward on his rear, his hat knocking sideways against the pantry door.
"I told you!" her mother yelled from the kitchen doorway, clutching a dish towel like a protective shield. "She’s dangerous! You have to take her, please. Put handcuffs on her!"
"Ma'am, we can't arrest a minor for being uncooperative when she hasn't technically committed a crime," Park said, adjusting his uniform hat with a flush of embarrassment.
He picked up his scanner and inspected the cracked screen. "And without a name or a match in the database, our hands are tied. The provincial social services representative handles cases of extreme neglect or... whatever this is. But it’s a Tuesday. Representative Kang is down in Yangpyeong until tomorrow afternoon."
"Tomorrow afternoon?" her mother's voice hit a register that threatened to shatter the remaining glassware. "She is staying here? In my house? For another thirty hours?"
The officers offered a deeply apologetic shrugs that practically screamed small-town bureaucracy.
"Nuh-uh!" her mother shook her head. "She has to go!"
"Eomma," Yoonchae gently called out her name and placed her hand on her mother's forearm. "I… I can take care of her, okay? It's just thirty hours. And then she'll be gone, alright? Don't get so worked up."
But the truth is, Yoonchae was curious with this kind of human being. She wondered what the girl went through, or maybe she was just like this ever since she was born. Perhaps she does have a family, but she doesn't know where the girl belonged.
Ten minutes later, they were back in their patrol car, leaving the Jeung family entirely on their own. As the gravel crunched under the departing police tires, a vicious, hushed war broke out in the hallway.
"Absolutely not! Out! She goes out right now!" her mother hissed, as her face was flashed in anger. "I don't care if it's raining, I don't care if she's hungry. Do you see her? She almost bit a policeman, Min-jun! If she gets loose in the night, she'll slit our throats or eat a damn wallpaper!"
"Eomma, keep your voice down," her father muttered, keeping an eye on the open kitchen door. He looked incredibly stressed, his usual stoic demeanor cracking around the edges. "Think about the neighborhood, we just got here. We are the wealthy city people who bought the big house at the edge of the line. If the local council finds out we threw a nakedly feral, mentally unstable teenager out onto the road in broad daylight, what do you think they’ll say?"
"I don't care about the local council!"
"You do care!" he countered with his voice filled in an authoritative whisper. "Our standing here depends on our reputation. If something happens to that girl on our street, the rumors will ruin us before the first school semester even finishes. Yoonchae's university applications require local recommendations. Do you want the township head thinking we are heartless?"
Yoonchae could care less about her applications. She simply wanted to help a strange girl, who slept on her foot last night. Who also growled like a dog, maybe even a werewolf. She sighed through her nose and muttered, "Why do you guys care about so much of your reputation? And no, she's not going out."
Her mother opened her mouth to argue, but Yoonchae held her hand up.
"I'm taking care of her," Yoonchae said in a flat tone. "Whether you like it or not."
While her parents were standing on the porch arguing over the family's social suicide, Yoonchae slipped into the kitchen. She closed the utility room door behind her, cutting off the sound of her mother’s high-pitched laments.
She had a mission. Yoonchae was a fixer. She solved problems, aced tests, and managed crises. This situation was messy, but messiness could be conquered with logic. If she could extract a name, a hometown, or a telephone number from this girl, she could call the proper authorities herself and restore order to her life.
This should be easy, she thought. I could be late for school.
Yoonchae pulled up a small plastic step stool and sat down two feet from the mat. She kept her posture straight and her hands open.
"Hello," Yoonchae said, using her clearest, most reassuring voice. Yeah, bitch. Use that voice. "What is your name? Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Megan didn't move from her corner. When Yoonchae spoke, the girl's head tilted to the left. When Yoonchae shifted her pitch, the head tilted to the right, her eyes wide as she tracked the cadence of the words. It was exactly like a golden retriever trying to understand the word walk.
It would have been cute if it weren't a teenager doing it in a fluorescent-lit laundry room.
"Can you say anything at all?" Yoonchae continued as she leaned forward. "Letters? Numbers? A city, maybe?"
Megan just blinked.
Okay, she acts like a dog and thinks like one too, she thought to herself.
Yoonchae reached into her blazer pocket and pulled out a black pen and a stray sheet of lined paper. She laid the paper on the floor and extended the pen. "Here. Write it. If you can't talk, just write your name."
Megan eyed the pen. She reached out, her movements jerky, and plucked it from Yoonchae's fingers. She didn't grip it like a writing utensil; she held it in her fist. She brought it to her nose, and took a deep sniff of the plastic cap, and shoved the end into her mouth.
"No, don't eat that!" Yoonchae said.
Megan gave the pen a hard crunch with her molars. Realizing it wasn't food and tasted like bitter plastic, she dropped it onto the floor with a look of mild disgust. And without even a second, Megan licked her palms.
Yoonchae stared. The uncanny nature of it made the hair on her arms stand up.
What the fuck?!
"Okay. Let's try something basic," Yoonchae said, clearing her throat. She tapped her own collarbone with her index finger. "Yoonchae. That is me. Yoonchae."
Megan tracked the movement of the hand, but she didn't understand her at all. She looked at her mouth, noticing the movements, and tried copying it.
"Who are you?" Yoonchae asked as she extended her arm and pointed her finger directly at Megan's chest.
Megan didn't look at herself. She didn't even look at Yoonchae's face. Instead, her eyes locked onto the actual tip of Yoonchae’s pointing finger. She stared at the nail, leaning her head closer to sniff the index finger, completely missing the concept of a gesture. To her, the finger wasn't pointing at an object—the finger was the object.
"You really don't get it, do you?" Yoonchae whispered, lowering her hand.
Megan copied the movement, as she lowered her head back towards the mat, blinking blankly in the room.
She was a dog in a human body, and Yoonchae's logic was useless at this point.
Yoonchae grabbed her phone into her pocket and noticed that the time was 6:30 AM. She had to go now, and she didn't know whether or not Megan would be okay in this house. So she stood up, pulled a blanket from a dresser, and placed it on the floor.
Megan stared at it and tilted her head in confusion, letting out a small huff.
"Alright," Yoonchae sighed and pinched on her nose bridge. "I've… I have to go, okay? So you sit here and wait."
Megan growled quietly and Yoonchae held her hand up the moment she saw the girl taking a step forward, causing her to step back. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought, she thought.
"Hey, listen!" Yoonchae raised her voice, and Megan stayed put. "I'll be back home as soon as I can. So you have to wait for me, alright? I'll keep you safe."
Even though Megan didn't understand her words, Yoonchae at least hoped that the tone of her voice made Megan feel safe. She sighed under her breath and held onto the doorknob, looking back at Megan as she continued licking her palms.
This was going to be a very hard thirty hours.
Who am I going to tell this about?
author's note: hi guys! i was so inspired by this movie that i watched a couple of days ago, and actually i wanted this to be a oneshot. but i want to write this more, other than "crush", "go away", and "sportscar". i hope you guys like this concept! you don't have to watch the movie, by the way. but i'm definitely feeding your puppy!megan fics here :) let me know what you guys think about this! kudos and comments r very appreciated always x