Rurin And The Song (2)

Woof woof!

A dog barked beside the man. The man silently stroked the dog. There was no life in the man’s eyes. His face was overtaken by days of unshaven beard.

“…I’m sorry.”

The man said that to the dog.

Left alone. Just him, and this creature also left alone. The man truly thought he wanted to live the rest of his life with this one.

But then he learned the truth.

And that truth was far too cruel.

Though he had vowed to accept everything, retreat to the countryside, and live quietly in memory of his daughter, a deep, wide ripple now disturbed his heart.

Now that he knew everything—how could he possibly stay still as her father?

The only thing weighing on him was the dog he’d suddenly brought with him.

That was before he knew the truth.

So there was no choice. The man began writing on a piece of stationery.

To a couple who might take in the dog.

[(Excerpt)… If your situation does not allow it, I’ve enclosed some money. Please use it to find someone else who can take the dog. I’ve also enclosed a small reward. I sincerely hope you’ll accept.]

The couple who had been with him when he first brought the dog.

For a man with no other close acquaintances, they were the only ones left to ask such a final favor.

The man looked up at the sky, recalling the moment he met the dog.

Rurin stood at the crosswalk. Cars zoomed by on the road, and the traffic light glowed red.

Since it was red, Rurin stood quietly at the curb.

It looked like she had finally adapted to one of this world’s basic rules—obeying traffic lights.

Of course, Rurin hated the idea that something so trivial could stop her, but El had nagged her so much that she’d reluctantly accepted it.

Before they got married, when she first came to this world, she ignored cars and walked straight ahead. One had crashed into her and shattered while she remained completely unharmed—a truly bizarre scene.

El’s nagging had been so effective that Rurin now stood motionless, glaring at the red light.

“Red things suck, seriously.”

The stop signal just had to be red—her least favorite color. She grumbled, thinking of the Red Dragons.

Still, she imagined other dragons rampaging through the city, only to suddenly stop at red lights. That thought made her smirk—it was funny.

Lick.

Right then—

While Rurin wore an odd expression—somewhere between angry and amused—a dog standing nearby began licking her shoes.

Letting out a whimper as it did.

And of course, the green light still didn’t turn on!

From Rurin’s perspective, it was outrageous that such a lowly creature would dare lick her shoes. She tilted her head and glared at the dog.

“Why are you licking my shoe? Is this some kind of loyalty pledge? I don’t accept those.”

Whimper.

The dog sniffed her again, let out another whine, then turned its head to stare at the road.

“What was that about?! Oh? It changed! I’m in a rush, so you get a pass!”

Finally, the long-awaited green light turned on. If she didn’t cross now, she’d have to wait again—so Rurin broke into a sprint.

The dog left behind kept glancing back and forth between the passing cars, people walking by, and those waiting at the crosswalk. Each time, its ears perked up…then drooped again.

On their way home after the date. The streets were quiet in the deep of the night.

They were on the main road that led up to the alley of their neighborhood—right at the final crosswalk they had to cross.

Rurin and El were walking toward their house, holding hands tightly.

“You, why are we stopping when there’s nothing here? That red light—do we really have to stop even when no cars are coming? So annoying!”

VROOOOOM!

In response, El pointed at a few cars zooming by at high speed.

“Cars tend to speed like that at night. Now that we’re here, we gotta follow this world’s laws, dear wife.”

“Well, since you’re here with me, I wouldn’t care even if the red light lasted forever. Hehe.”

Rurin spun around while holding El’s hand, then poked at his arm with her free one—just playing around like that. If El was by her side, even being trapped somewhere was fine by her.

Then, by chance, her gaze landed on the opposite side of the road, and she pursed her lips slightly.

She suddenly remembered what happened earlier, and lifted her shoe toward El as she spoke.

“El.”

“Yeah?”

“That thing licked my shoe earlier. What a weird creature. I don’t accept loyalty pledges, you know.”

Rurin pointed directly at the dog on the other side of the street. El glanced at it and replied.

“Your shoe? I doubt dogs even know what a dragon is. That was probably its way of showing affection.”

“Hm? Normally, even licking shoes isn’t allowed. Only you get to lick…wait! Not even that! I mean…licking anything—skin, inner thighs—only you are allowed…ugh?! Now that I think about it, that dog’s totally out of line!”

She’d been talking normally but then spiraled into her own chaotic thoughts, eyes swirling with confusion, pointing angrily at the dog again.

“Alright, alright. What are you even imagining right now? Licking’s just part of what dogs do. You can’t stop that. Anyway, the light changed—let’s cross, my wife.”

El, noticing Rurin’s dazed eyes and inexplicably red ears, grabbed her hand and gently dragged her across the crosswalk.

Then El approached the dog Rurin had mentioned. Something felt off about it.

If Rurin saw it earlier in the day, then quite a bit of time had passed—and it was nearly dawn now.

And yet, it was still in the exact same spot. That was strange.

Even if Rurin hadn’t noticed it earlier, a dog sitting alone at a crosswalk this late at night was strange on its own.

If the city council had seen it, it would’ve already been taken away.

Thinking that, El looked again. The dog had a collar—damaged. Upon closer inspection, the owner’s information had been scraped off.

On top of that, the dog looked rough. Probably a mixed breed, medium size—but it was emaciated.

It was clear this dog had been abandoned. El knelt before it with a saddened expression. The fact that it wasn’t afraid of people made it obvious it once lived with someone.

The dog barked and ran toward Rurin. But with a whine, it drooped its ears again and trudged back to its spot. Then, likely from hunger, it collapsed, stood up, and stumbled again.

El decided he couldn’t leave it like this and spoke to Rurin.

“Rurin, I’ll run to the convenience store. Watch it for a minute.”

“What? What do you mean by that…?”

“It’s fine. See that store over there? It’s collapsed from hunger—it’s pitiful.”

“Hungry? Hm…yeah, that’s bad. Being hungry is the saddest thing.”

Rurin folded her arms and nodded solemnly. Meanwhile, El ran off to the store.

Left alone, Rurin watched him go, then crouched down in front of the dog.

“Are you hungry? That sucks. I’ve got El, so I don’t get hungry. Well, okay, sometimes I still get hungry.”

Hmm hmm.

Of course I do.

As she nodded to herself and hummed, El came running back with bottled water and a bag of dog food.

He crouched in front of the dog and handed Rurin the water, cupping his hands.

“Rurin, pour some water into here.”

“In there?”

Rurin gave him a skeptical look but started pouring anyway.

When El placed it in front of the dog, it whimpered softly, lifted its head, and began to lick the water.

“Oooh, it’s drinking. With its tongue, too?”

“Looks like it has no energy left. I think it was abandoned.”

“Hm. Alright, I’ll forgive it for licking my shoe. But only if it gets better.”

“Oh? What’s this now? You usually treat all monsters, animals, and bugs the same—like trash.”

“I only said that because you cared. If you didn’t, I wouldn’t even bother.”

Rurin said this and picked up the water again, glancing at El’s hands.

“Your hands!”

“Huh? You wanna give it more?”

El instinctively cupped his hands again—and Rurin poured water into them, lowered her head, and started licking it herself.

“Nope. Hehe. I just wanted to try it too. Hmm…but it’s uncomfortable.”

Still squatting, head bent, tongue out, Rurin gave it a few licks—then raised her head with a groan. Her chin was dripping with water.

“Why are you even trying out stuff like that…? Your tongue is meant for a completely different purpose.”

El shook his head, flung off the water from his hands, and petted the dog.

“Let’s see… The collar says ‘Doongi’. I guess that’s its name.”

The dog named Doongi, now rehydrated, got back on its feet—and resumed staring blankly across the road like a statue.

Seeing that, El spoke with certainty.

“Looks like it was dumped right here and the car just sped off. This dog’s been waiting in the same place, reacting to anything that looked similar. Rip open that food and feed it. If you take something in, you care for it till the end. Bastards.”

At those words, Rurin tore open the food bag, reached in, and offered a handful to Doongi.

“Here, eat this.”

Then she popped one into her own mouth.

*PTOO! PTOO! *

“What the heck is this?!”

She grimaced in absolute disgust, spat it all out, and then chugged from the water bottle to rinse her mouth.

Meanwhile, Doongi gently began licking and eating the food. Watching it, Rurin tilted her head, confused how it could taste good.

“That tastes good to you? You’re like the Kuns or something. Anyway, what you’re saying is—this is like someone brought some Lurun, then ditched them again? Hmph. That’s awful. Poor Lurun. I mean, Doongi? Weird name. Here, eat more!”

Rurin equated Doongi with her Lurun and, wearing a pitiful expression, scooped up more dog food.

Right at that moment—

“Excuse me…”

Just as El and Rurin sat together and the dog licked at the food, someone spoke to them. El turned around.

Behind them stood a man in his 50s.

“Yes?”

When El responded, the man hesitated, then cautiously began speaking.

“Are you…by chance, that dog’s original owner?”

“No. We just saw it while walking. Are you from a shelter, by any chance?”

“No, I’m not. I’ve been watching it for a few days. Fed it before and after work. I was late getting off today, though…”

Woof woof!

Even quiet little Doongi seemed to recognize the man. It trotted over, circled in front of his shoes—as if to greet him—then quietly returned to its original spot.