Toobo

A kind girl falls in love with a vicious killer. Unhinged Yuri story set in Seoul.

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“Like a prey waiting with a trap, I missed my predator. 

I missed her touch in the places I’ve never been touched. 

I wanted to hear her sing the songs that I’ve never heard.”

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As the blood dripped off the knife she held firmly in her pale hand, I saw my reflection in the cold blade that had just taken the life of a man. 

I dreamed of magical moments like this every day. 

Something - someone to come and free me from the suffocating monotony of normalcy. 

She stormed into my life brandishing death, and in the moment of madness, my heart fluttered.

Then she came to my place, uninvited. I treated her wounds and fed her. She slept on my couch like a cat. We started our lives together. Death bound us like the knot of tie I fixed for her as she left for work - to kill, kill, and to kill again. 

I spent countless nights sitting in darkness, on my couch hugging my knees, gripped with worry and excitement. I prayed for her safe return home, but I did not pray for the souls she’d be sending to hell. 

But she always returned, like a stray cat coming for food in the back alley behind a restaurant. I was the cook who put out the food for her, stroked her, and gave her shelter.

A stray cat. A great feline predator. She was mine and mine alone. 

Together we laughed, alone I cried. 

Together we laughed, alone I cried. 

But I think we also loved. 

I think. 

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This is a dark and twisted psychological slice-of-life romantic comedy with a sprinkle of inspiration from the noir genre. If that doesn’t make sense, it’s because it doesn’t.

Miho the Killer

"Miho, I got something to confess."

I told my feline friend who's been recovering remarkably well ever since she moved 'home', almost making me think - why didn't we do this in the first place?

She answered, unsuspecting, changing into her shoes from the fluffy slippers by the big metallic door as we were preparing to leave the house. Shin was already waiting in the car in the basement.

"I'm not Doctor Yang. I've never been."

Miho looked up with one foot into a trainer, another foot dangling in the air while she held the other shoe in her hands.

"Do you… not remember you used to think I was Dr. Yang?"

I really couldn't make out how jumbled up her memories were. It seemed she did not only forget some things from the past before she fell from the stairs but also some things that happened well into a few weeks after the incident.

"But you DO remember who Dr. Yang is?"

Keeping A Door Open