Mudoo - Chapter 42

The moment Seula opened her eyes, a burning thirst gripped her throat. She rushed straight to the kitchen and gulped down water like her life depended on it.

Tae-shin, who was preparing breakfast, looked at her oddly. It wasn’t like her to act this way first thing in the morning.

“Did something drain all your fluids overnight? Don’t tell me you were working out behind my back.”

Still catching her breath, Seula leaned against the sink and pushed her damp hair back.

“Yeah, I have no idea what happened either.”

Tae-shin walked over and examined her face closely. He touched her forehead briefly, then tilted his head.

“Doesn’t look like it’s what I was worried about.”

“…You mean like… possession or something?”

Just saying the word felt gross. She’d been through that once, having something not-her inside her body. It was creepy and deeply unsettling.

“I seriously never want to go through that again.”

Seula shivered at the thought. Tae-shin just chuckled and went back to what he was doing—chopping up green chili peppers and onions to throw into a bubbling kimchi stew filled with pork. He scooped in a generous spoonful of red chili powder. The sharp, spicy aroma filled the kitchen.

“Should I set the table?”

Seula opened the folding table on the wooden floor and placed utensils on top. Dong-gil came bounding in from the yard and jumped up excitedly. As she poured kibble into his bowl, she asked, half-joking.

“Sometimes you eat people food, sometimes it’s kibble. What’s the criteria here?”

“It depends, depends on my mood.”

“That’s what we call being picky.”

“No, no! It’s totally different!”

“Only eating what you like is being picky. Remember that time at Hobun’s place? You went nuts over the bibimbap.”

“That’s ‘cause it was fox-made bibimbap—it was delicious, delicious!”

Dong-gil flared up like a kid caught in a lie, and Seula laughed. For all his talk of being a mystical creature, he was still basically a dog—easy to read, easy to tease.

His black nose was cute. His little paws on the floor were cute. Even the tail wagging from side to side was cute. If only he didn’t sound like a grumpy middle-aged man.

“Do dogs go through puberty? How did you survive it, Dong-gil?”

She gazed at him with a mock-melancholic expression, and it seemed he finally caught on that she was teasing him. Huffing, he turned away.

Tae-shin came out carrying the pot of stew, and tucked under his arm was a two-liter bottle of water.

“Drink now if you’re thirsty. Drinking during meals isn’t good for digestion.”

Seula blinked at the bottle he placed in front of her. Was he always this thoughtful? Worrying about indigestion, making sure she drank enough? That didn’t seem like the Tae-shin she knew.

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one confused—Dong-gil was staring at him with his mouth agape.

“People don’t just suddenly become decent. No way, no way.”

“I’ve always been human. You’re the dog.”

Tae-shin deadpanned. Dong-gil, predictably, exploded in protest, shouting that he wasn’t just any dog. It was the same silly morning scene as always.

“Oh, right. I had the weirdest dream last night.”

It had felt so vivid, almost like she hadn’t slept at all.

Tae-shin raised an eyebrow as he deboned a fish and placed a neat pile of meat onto Seula’s rice.

“What kind of dream?”

“You were in it. A younger version of you. And Dong-gil couldn’t talk.”

Seula took a bite of rice, chewed, swallowed, and kept going.

“Dong-gil was tiny. Like, the size of my arm. Super fluffy and adorable. It was weird seeing him so little and then suddenly this big.”

“He was cute when I first brought him home… now, not so much.”

Dong-gil, who’d been chomping away at his kibble, lifted his eyes in protest.

“Now what, now what?”

“You know what I mean. You’re just… too big now.”

“He’s still charming and dependable, though.”

“See? She said I’m cute!”

Seula jumped to Dong-gil’s defense. Tae-shin clicked his tongue and went back to eating, while Dong-gil puffed up with pride.

No one else seemed to care, but Seula wasn’t finished with her story.

“In the dream, you and Dong-gil lived in this house. With an old shaman guy.”

The room went still.

Tae-shin’s spoon froze in midair. Dong-gil lifted his head. Seula looked around, sensing something was off.

“What? Was the shaman part weird?”

“Keep going,” Tae-shin said, frowning faintly.

She hesitated. Their reactions felt out of proportion. Why would a simple dream get them so worked up?

“Never mind. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

“Was that old shaman… someone you—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Even she was surprised at how quickly her mood changed. But something told her she’d regret saying more. That this wasn’t just a dream. That sharing it wouldn’t help.

She had wanted to talk about how bratty dream-Tae-shin had been, and how adorably mischievous puppy Dong-gil was… But instead, everyone latched onto the old shaman.

The rest of breakfast passed in an awkward, heavy silence.

***

Seula had said she was going to start job hunting again—and she must have meant it. She shut herself in the guest room and hadn’t come out.

Tae-shin sat on the porch sipping cocoa. Dong-gil lay next to him, chin on the floor, watching the scenery beyond the wall.

“Lunar New Year’s barely over and already it feels like spring.”

“What? No way. It’s still freezing out.”

Dong-gil shot down the poetic observation with a blunt comment.

“You’re covered in fur. What do you know about being cold?”

“And humans are wrapped in coats. Why do you feel cold?”

“That’s not the same. We wear coats because it’s cold.”

Tired of the back-and-forth, Dong-gil flopped onto his side.

“About that dream… earlier.”

He was still thinking about it, just like Tae-shin.

“You don’t think she was dreaming about the Elder, do you?”

“That wouldn’t make any sense,” Tae-shin said, frowning.

“She’s had a few run-ins with shamans lately. Probably left a strong impression.”

“But still… if that shaman was the Elder—and she said he lived here, with us…”

There’s no way. Seeing the past through dreams wasn’t possible unless you had real spiritual power.

And Seula had never shown any signs of that before. Nothing. For her to suddenly gain it now? Impossible.

“Just a random coincidence.”

“Right? Just a silly dream? A total nonsense dream?”

Dong-gil asked, seeking reassurance. Tae-shin rubbed his belly absentmindedly.

“Yeah. Probably.”

Still, he couldn’t shake the unease. He wanted to storm into Seula’s room and demand answers. Who was in the dream? What happened? Why did she see it?

If the Elder had truly shown up in her dream… why her?

“Maybe I should go see Cheonwol Manshin.”

He didn’t want to see that woman again. But maybe he had to.

“What if,” Dong-gil said carefully, “what if Seula is… Yeo-ok?”

Tae-shin’s fingers froze around his mug.

“If she is Yeo-ok… then having dreams like that wouldn’t be so strange.”

Yeo-ok had been a shaman. She saw the future in her dreams. Sometimes, she even saw the past.

Tae-shin slowly shook his head. He had just started to believe he’d finally escaped Yeo-ok’s shadow. Just finally convinced himself Seula wasn’t her.

“Yeo-ok?”

Seula was standing behind them, by the porch. Frozen. Her face was blank, but her eyes trembled ever so slightly.

“You know Yeo-ok?”

Her voice was calm—but her eyes said something else.