Mudoo - Chapter 15

“You must really be sick. Your forehead’s burning up, burning up.”

Dong-gil rested his front paw on Seula’s forehead, letting out a soft whimper as he looked down at her with worried eyes.

“Move your paw. I need to put this on her.”

Kang Tae-shin flicked his chin at Dong-gil’s paw. Then he wrung out a cloth he’d soaked in lukewarm water and gently placed it on Seula’s forehead.

She’d fallen asleep in the rocking chair while he was talking quietly with Dong-gil. She’d come home so late last night, it was no wonder she’d dozed off. He was going to let her rest — but her face, pale in the firelight, made him stop.

When he pressed his hand to her forehead, there was no doubt — she had a fever.

He moved her to the big bed, gave her fever medicine, and left a thermos of water by her pillow so she could drink anytime. He wiped the sweat from her face, neck, arms, and legs with a fresh cloth, then finally let out a slow breath.

“Shouldn’t we call a doctor? Call a doctor?”

Dong-gil wouldn’t budge from Seula’s side, clearly worried sick.

“I gave her medicine. Let’s watch her a little longer.”

“If you take her to the Ogodang clinic for acupuncture, she’ll get better fast, get better fast…”

Kang Tae-shin just watched Seula’s face as she struggled to breathe evenly. His eyes narrowed slightly.

“…Who knows?”

He wasn’t so sure it was just a simple fever.

“Let’s get out of here. She needs to rest.”

He led Dong-gil out of the room. Even as he slid the door shut, Kang Tae-shin’s eyes stayed fixed on Seula.

***

Kang Tae-shin stepped into the guest room to check on Seula — fed her a bit of porridge — then came out to the yard where Dong-gil lay sprawled out, looking lonely.

“Try to understand — no walk today.”

“One day, just one day, I can endure it.”

He was oddly grateful, again, that this dog could talk. If Dong-gil were just an ordinary dog who didn’t understand what was going on, he’d probably be scratching at the door nonstop, begging for a walk.

Sitting there alone with Dong-gil for the first time in a while only made Seula’s absence feel bigger. She hadn’t even been here a month, but it was already hard to remember the long stretch of days when it was just the two of them.

“When will the human woman’s fever go down, go down?”

Dong-gil tilted his head, glancing up at Kang Tae-shin, where he sat on the porch.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow? Or the day after? I hope it’s not later than that…”

Kang Tae-shin didn’t have an answer. If it were just a normal fever, she’d recover soon — but the faint, strange smell he’d caught made him think this wouldn’t pass so easily.

“All we can do is hope she pulls through.”

After that, silence settled between them.

Dong-gil let out a long sigh, lost in thought. Kang Tae-shin couldn’t help but laugh a little — it was rare to see Dong-gil like this.

“What’s got you so worried?”

“Are you worried about Seula, or about Yeok? Which one, which one?”

It wasn’t a topic Kang Tae-shin liked dragging out. His smile faded as fast as it came, and he turned his eyes to the sunset sky, answering like he couldn’t be bothered.

“I told you. They’re the same—”

“No, they’re not! They’re not!”

Dong-gil cut him off sharply.

“Yeok is Yeok. Seula is Seula. They’re not the same, not the same!”

“Drop it. It’s not something you’d ever understand anyway.”

“You’re doing it again — looking down on me, looking down on me!”

Dong-gil jumped onto the porch and pushed at Kang Tae-shin’s chest with his paw — but Tae-shin didn’t budge an inch. His body was as solid as stone.

“I’m the one who watched you and Yeok from the closest distance! The closest!”

It was a story from a long, long time ago — back before Dong-gil could even speak, back when he was just an ordinary dog. But judging by his eyes now, he remembered it all perfectly.

“You know Yeok so well — but so do I, so do I!”

Unfortunately, Dong-gil’s emotional outburst didn’t seem to move Kang Tae-shin at all. He just smirked, lifting the corner of his mouth mockingly.

“So what did you do back then?”

“….”

“Dance tricks for the old blind lady? Steal rice from the grain store? Run wild in the yard at night?”

“I — I…”

The words cut like a knife, so clearly drawing the line between beast and man. Dong-gil felt humiliated. He’d always known Kang Tae-shin had a rotten personality, but he’d still thought of him as an old friend. Now he wasn’t sure what he’d ever meant to him.

Dong-gil’s throat rumbled low. He bared his sharp canines in warning.

“If you keep this up, I’ll tell Seula everything — everything!”

“About what?”

“That you unleashed the Mudoo, unleashed the Mudoo just to make her come find you!”

At that, Kang Tae-shin let out a weary sigh and pressed his thumb hard into his temple, as if he was getting a headache.

“And what exactly do you gain from that, Dong-gil?”

Dong-gil froze. He’d never thought that far ahead.

Reading him like an open book, Kang Tae-shin spoke again, his tone calm.

“You just want to get under my skin. But telling Seula what you know — that won’t help you, or her.”

Dong-gil knew he’d been hit right where it hurt. He turned his back to Kang Tae-shin and sat facing the other way — clearly enough, he didn’t want to talk anymore.

Looking at Dong-gil’s sulky back, Kang Tae-shin let out a quiet sigh, then spoke again in his usual voice, trying to soothe him.

“Sorry for snapping at you. Tomorrow, I promise we’ll go for a walk.”

“You make me sick and then hand me medicine, sick and then medicine…”

Kang Tae-shin knew Dong-gil wouldn’t forgive him that easily. But whenever Yeok came up, he always got sharp without meaning to.

This was exactly why he’d wanted to avoid the topic altogether. Balancing the tray with the empty porridge bowl, Kang Tae-shin got up, a bitter taste lingering on his tongue as he headed for the kitchen.

***

It was the middle of the night, and the whole house was quiet.

Dong-gil, still sulking, had curled up in the rocking chair by the fireplace. Seula, burning with fever, hadn’t taken a single step out of the guest room.

Only after giving her another dose of fever medicine and wiping down her sweaty face and limbs did Kang Tae-shin finally call it a day.

He’d just stepped out of a long soak in the bath and was heading to his room, wearing nothing but a bathrobe, when he noticed the study door slightly ajar.

He rarely went in there himself, unless he needed to find an old book, so it was odd. He wanted to ignore it and just pass by, but who else in this house would even notice? It was only him, Seula, and Dong-gil here.

He had a feeling about who it was — he just didn’t want the headache that would come with confirming it.

Kang Tae-shin pushed the half-open door aside and stepped in. The shelves lined with old books stood in silent rows. He moved, step by step, toward where he could feel another presence.

Past the fourth shelf, he found Seula, flipping through the pages of an old volume.

“So now you’re trespassing in rooms you weren’t even given permission for?”

Seula didn’t even lift her eyes from the book as she answered,

“Am I not supposed to be in here?”

“Kind of unpleasant, seeing you poking around every corner of my house.”

“You could’ve told me that earlier. I would’ve been more careful.”

Kang Tae-shin stepped closer. He reached out, closed the book she was holding, and checked the cover.

“What are you looking at?”

Seula calmly reopened it to the page she’d been reading.

“Something I wanted to check.”

“And what’s that?”

“Why so curious?”

This time, Seula lifted her head and met his eyes. Between the towering bookshelves that reached the ceiling, there was only silence — just the sound of their breaths. With barely a hand’s width between them, their eyes locked, and a sliver of moonlight through the small window brushed Seula’s cheek.

Kang Tae-shin tilted his head, moving a step closer every second. Seula backed up, bit by bit, until she found herself perched on the window ledge.

He placed his hands on either side of her, caging her in. Then, with one hand, he took the old book from her lap and set it aside.

“I can’t have anything about you that I don’t know.”

Seula didn’t say a word. She just kept her lips pressed together, watching his every move, listening to his low voice.

“The Seula I know was burning up with fever just moments ago.”

His hand brushed over her forehead and cheek, checking her temperature. Her soft skin was still burning hot, like it was on fire.

“And the Seula I know has no business with books like this.”

He leaned in, his breath warm at her ear.

“You’re not Seula, are you?”