The Harbor and the Rabbit
The Ala Wai Boat Harbor was lined with yachts that looked as though they'd been abandoned for a long time. Halfway between Waikiki and the large shopping center, along the dock where dark water lapped, people could be seen rummaging through trash cans. Some had even climbed into empty boats to steal things, and not long ago, sirens had wailed in the distance.
Perhaps because the weather was warm year-round, there were an unusually large number of homeless people who looked surprisingly well-kept. In a climate where a single cardboard box was enough to survive, the temporary charity of wealthy tourists had drawn the homeless in.
A young man sorting cigarette butts from a trash can spotted Da-in and grinned. Astonishingly, he even stepped aside to let her pass, behaving with manners. Well, not every homeless person was strange, she supposed.
Da-in strolled past the moored boats with light steps. Then she spotted a boat with a clean hull and the name Alexa 71 engraved on it. After confirming no one was following her, Da-in leapt aboard in one motion. It was larger than the other boats, and traces of recent use remained from just a few days ago.
Following the faint smell of gasoline, Da-in walked across the large boat until she found a door about thigh-high. She crouched and knocked twice. From inside, a matching tapping sound came back. She opened the door silently and dropped inside. The moment her feet landed, she killed the sound of her steps as much as possible — and someone's shin flew at her face.
Instinctively crossing her arms to block the attack, Da-in rolled backward and punched at her opponent's throat with both eyes wide open. But the man who effortlessly dodged her attack wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her, and slammed her upside down.
'Damn it!'
Her body, trying to protect her head and minimize the impact, was pressed hard onto a soft mattress. She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them — and saw the face of that damn bastard. Light-colored hair spilled down, shaking as if to cover Dan's blue eyes.
Da-in ground her teeth and shouted.
"What the hell are you doing!"
She'd almost gouged Dan's eyes out with whatever was within reach. If the familiar scent clinging to his waist hadn't been familiar, he might have already lost an eye. Of course, he'd probably have blocked it, but a bloody mess had nearly broken out.
"Close-quarters combat... not your strong suit, huh? Lee Da-in." He pressed her down with his full weight and lifted her chin. To anyone watching, it looked like lovers playing around — a casual, unconcerned attitude.
Da-in threw her head back, cursing under her breath, and kicked up her knees.
"My specialty is killing before I even touch someone. If you're done testing me, let me go?"
"Hmm... I'm a little worried."
"Worried or not, get off me. Are you crazy?"
"Not crazy. Just happy to see you after so long."
Dan grinned, but his eyes were strangely cold. He released her and stood up, extending a hand. Da-in coldly swatted his hand away and rubbed her stiff elbow. As she pushed her messy hair back, she noticed he'd opened the refrigerator and set down a cold bottle of water. She finally noticed he'd just finished showering — his hair was wet and he wasn't even wearing a shirt.
Annoyed, Da-in rubbed her hair vigorously and slumped into a nearby chair.
"Don't test people like this again. If that hadn't been your scent, I would have killed you."
"Do I smell?" The man turned on the TV, sniffed his arm, and sniffed again. Da-in didn't even respond — she just opened the laptop in front of her.
He chuckled and came over, draping an arm over her shoulder.
"Kwon Hee-jae's departure schedule came in. Three days from now."
Already?
What Dan was watching were photos of someone photographing Kwon Hee-jae. Him doing rehabilitation exercises, swimming. Him entering a coffee shop like an ordinary person, talking with people in suits. They were close for paparazzi shots. But they didn't feel like openly taken photos.
"What are these?"
"From the company. They said you might not recognize him, so look at them."
Da-in silently zoomed in on a photo of Kwon Hee-jae leaving a coffee shop. He hadn't changed at all — not enough for her to even remember what his face had looked like the last time she'd seen him. He was still handsome, still tall, and still... had dangerous eyes. What was that look? Eyes that seemed to have poured all kinds of emotions into them and pressed them down tightly, perhaps.
"So when will the team leader be joining us?"
"When NIS Black lets go. Probably a month or two, I'd say."
"That long?"
"Why, do you feel like a hamster trapped in a cage?"
"Isn't that obvious? The NIS is chasing him. And if it's Black, they're monsters."
"That monster is digging into you. They noticed you've got one more mercenary attached."
I really thought they'd figure this out.
Da-in irritably shoved Dan's ribs. He stretched and stood up, sitting in a chair to one side. He picked up wax and cloth and rubbed a surfboard leaning against the wall.
"Who's the client?"
"You know. Only Logan knows that."
"So I can kill anyone who approaches the kid with ill intent?"
At her sharp words laced with killing intent, Dan's normally calm expression tilted slightly. He stared at Da-in, who couldn't hide her emotions, then smirked.
"I thought you were smart. Turns out you're secretly naive."
"Don't sugarcoat calling me stupid."
Hoping her intuition was wrong, Da-in opened the water bottle. The ice-cold water cooled her heated esophagus. It felt like her stomach was freezing too.
"A man who went so far as to launder his identity just to protect one kid. Do you think he'd be able to live his daily life if he knew a blood-stained mercenary was attached to his kid?"
"I don't understand."
"Didn't you notice earlier? Kwon Hee-jae can't use one leg."
Now that she thought about it, she'd seen something like a cane in the man's hand. She'd just assumed it was for style — was his leg actually damaged?
"So?"
"He's more sensitive than before. So Kwon Hee-jae won't trust anyone. Just think of it as a side job to make money comfortably. If it were me, I wouldn't want someone who smells of blood near the kid either."
No way. Is it really that simple?
But there was no room to argue or dig into Dan's words. If it were her, knowing a mercenary like Valentine was guarding her grandfather, she'd be on edge every moment, hairs standing on end.
"Don't forget. No matter how we package it or dress it up, we're Valentine. Death itself, you could say."
Da-in wiped her face and approached Dan to change the mood.
"Do you surf?"
"Sometimes."
"You have a lot of hobbies."
"You should get a hobby too. There's nothing better for suppressing impulses."
That impulse... probably doesn't exist for me, does it?
After looking around the yacht, which was set up like a hideout, Da-in went outside to head back. Dan Sneyer didn't see her off, nor did he say he'd see her again. He acted as though no one had been invited in the first place. Only his behavior that kept testing her bothered her. Was Dan Sneyer testing her trust as a teammate? Or her ability to carry out the mission to the end?
Da-in walked toward the scooter she'd parked, hoping it was still safely in place.
After midnight, the security guard who gave Da-in an unpleasant look opened the door for her. He didn't seem like a local, at least, but she'd never spoken to him. Or maybe he just didn't talk.
Having added one more name to her investigation list, she tiptoed back to her room and took a quick shower. Dressed in comfortable clothes, she shook her wet hair and walked toward the kitchen.
The microwave was running, and the kitchen sensor light turned on. There, sitting on a chair in front of the microwave, was Yeon-woo. Holding a rabbit stuffed animal in one arm, the child peered cautiously into the microwave. Afraid the kid might get startled, Da-in deliberately made a casual sound and stretched.
Beep. The microwave stopped.
At the same time, the child spotted Da-in and pointed at the microwave with a blank expression.
"Take this out for me, ajumma."
So now she's fully planning to call me ajumma? Well, it wasn't bad. Whatever she called her was fine.
"What is it?"
"Milk."
"Why? Can't sleep?"
She brought over a plate and took out the heated cup. It was still too hot for the child to touch — she must have heated it too long.
Yeon-woo watched Da-in blow on the milk to cool it, then hopped down from the chair. Then she suddenly grabbed Da-in's hand.
Startled, Da-in looked down — and the child, saying "I don't want the milk," pulled her along. What kind of mood swing was this?
Still, sensing the child had something to say, Da-in followed without asking any questions. Contrary to expectations, the child led her to her own room. She personally seated Da-in in an armchair, climbed a three-step ladder, and brought down a book. It was one of the English picture books someone had filled the bookshelf with.
The child crept closer and pressed the English book into Da-in's hand. Then she adjusted a mushroom-shaped lamp to illuminate the book properly, and climbed into bed, pulling the blanket tightly over herself.
"You want me to read to you?"
It was both cute and absurd, so she asked. The child, clutching the rabbit stuffed animal tightly, peeked out with just her eyes and nodded.
Well, it wasn't difficult.
Chuckling, Da-in opened the book.
"Read it in Korean, not English. Yeon-woo wants to read a book with a rabbit in it, but there aren't any Korean books here. So I can't read it."
The deflated voice told her everything about the child's state. She'd been hurt by her pride because of English.
"You can learn. I'll teach you."
"It's hard!"
"Then you'll never be able to read your favorite books, or buy ice cream at the convenience store?"
"But right now I want to read in Korean! Read it for me, Yeon-woo's teacher read it for me..."
Ah... Most kids don't call me "our teacher," do they? They call me "my teacher," not "our teacher." Whoever that teacher was, I'm really jealous.
Da-in reluctantly opened the book, looking at Yeon-woo who had already turned over and gone to sleep.
"The Hat Seller and the Rabbit. The animals gathered by a lake in the forest. It was the day of Mr. Wolf's birthday party. The squirrel..."
She didn't have the blood of a kindergarten teacher flowing through her, so the kind of animated storytelling the child wanted was impossible. And yet, the child's breathing gradually evened out, and drowsiness crept in. She must have fallen asleep like this in Korea too — cared for tenderly. Someone must have read books to her, and kept watch beside her with steady breathing. Kwon Hee-jae? Or the women Kwon Hee-jae had met? If not them, then the teacher called Rabbit?
Da-in muttered about when the hat seller was going to show up and closed her heavy eyelids.
The hat seller has hidden away. Don't think about getting money from the rabbit — just trade it for a carrot and a kind heart. That way, the rabbit will wear a pretty hat and attend Mr. Wolf's birthday party.
Hah. Damn it.