A/N: jesus christ exposition up the wazoo

Moonbyul has a kind-of-bad-but-also-good habit.

She resides in the bustling city of Seoul—needless to say, her apartment isn't exactly spacious. Despite this, though, every time Moonbyul sees an animal in need of assistance, she just can't resist the urge to take it home, nurse it back to health, and find a safe place for it.

So far there have been ten animals under her care, after which she networked tirelessly to find someone who’d take care of it in her wake (if her lengthy search for an owner was unsuccessful, of course).

She personally has no problem keeping them for herself—most of them were amazing pets and she would gladly avoid the sorrow if she could—but there are two main problems: firstly, animals aren’t actually allowed in the building (thankfully Hwasa, the landlord of their dingy apartment complex, is willing to bend the rules to an extent when it comes to her best friend, as long as discretion is used) and secondly, she has neither the space nor finances for all the pets that would accumulate if she did keep them. Even one or two pets would be pushing it.

As much as Moonbyul knows the significant work, money, time, and inevitable sadness it involves, she can't turn a blind eye when she sees an animal in need.

Neither Hwasa nor her neighbor (and other best friend) Wheein understand. Of course, they don't promote the idea of leaving the poor things to their fates, but they think taking it to a shelter or giving it some food is enough. Anything more than that results in a cycle self-sacrifice for a problem that you can never singlehandedly fix.

And Moonbyul certainly doesn't blame them. During these periods she often has to skip meals to pay for the animal's food and numerous vet visits and beg Wheein to babysit while she's at work. So technically none of them have sufficient time nor resources to run their own little rescue service, but Moonbyul has found a way, albeit out of pure necessity.

And while the conditions aren't exactly ideal, she finds a way to make it work. Her lack of everyday pleasures are made up for by the joy of giving these animals the love and care they deserve and eventually finding them loving homes.

People who know these tendencies often call her selfless, but that's something Moonbyul will never quite understand. After all, it's not like she's getting nothing out of the deal—she gets the knowledge of having positively impacted the lives of both animals as well as other people (the ones who get the benefit of a loyal companion who just wants to be loved).

It’s not much to some, but to Moonbyul the short companionship and emotional benefits are more than enough.

So, here Moonbyul was, once again bringing a dog to her residence.

She came upon a dejected Beagle wandering through the streets while she was on the way home from work. It was coated in grime and a small gash occupied the area just above its left eye, but other than that it didn't seem to be in too bad a state. Either it had just recently taken to calling the streets a home—no more than a week ago, Moonbyul thought—or it was lucky enough to come across some particularly generous humans on its travels. She twisted the tags around on the dog’s collar so that the information was visible, taking note of the name inscribed on the cheap metal.

“Lola. That’s a nice name.”

Aware that her last stray, Pudding, had just been sent to a new home a few days ago, Moonbyul attempted to sneak the little dog inside under her jacket. If she could keep it a secret for just a few days it would be well worth the effort.

“What Hwasa doesn't know won't hurt her,” Byul reasoned.

"Moon Byulyi!" A husky voice echoed throughout the lobby. The reprimanding tone halted her on the spot, flinching, shoulders raising up guiltily of their own volition.

She hesitantly rotated on the spot, half-facing Hwasa in her poor excuse for an office, sitting smugly in one of those spinning chairs. Clearing as a way to prepare herself, she finally managed to choke out, "Y-yes?" Moonbyul cringed at the awkward delivery, shoving her free hand into her pocket, the other struggling to hold up her new friend.

“I can only be thankful that this guy is so agreeable. Or maybe he's just sleeping.”

"Whatcha got there?"

Moonbyul was forcibly yanked from her thoughts at Hwasa's naturally loud (sometimes invasive) voice. Processing the question, Moonbyul noticed with despair that her friend was looking pointedly at her mid-section—assumedly (hopefully, otherwise Moonbyul wouldn’t know what to think) at the jacket hanging over her arm.

"O-oh, nothing. It's just kind of warm outside, isn't it? I carried my jacket around all day for nothing!" She rambled, hoping beyond hope that Hwasa would suffer a moment of not knowing everything so she could get away with this.

It's not like anything terrible would happen if she was found out—just some concern and brief exasperation—but now it was too late, she couldn't go back now. Getting caught in this lie would be too embarrassing and ego-squashing. So, she continued.

"The weather forecast said it'd be colder but I guess they-"

"Byul, I'm not stupid. Your arm isn't that fat, and that jacket is way too light to be that thick. Show me what you’re hiding; I'm pretty sure I have an idea what it is anyway." Hwasa ordered nonchalantly, taking no consideration of Moonbyul's anguish.

The demand spawned a defeated expression on Moonbyul's face.

"Fine! Your perceptiveness is so annoying sometimes. If this were Wheein I would be savoring success in my apartment right now!" She complained, going so far as to stomp her foot in a comforting act of immaturity.

Hesitantly, the fleece material was pulled back, revealing a head painted various shades of black, white, and brown framed by oversized milk chocolate ears. Small button-like eyes shined as the Beagle gazed curiously at the stranger in front of her. Moonbyul's formerly indignant face morphed into one of fondness at the reveal, all worries dissipating. "Isn't she so cute? Her name is Lola!" Moonbyul's smile was on full blast now, nose scrunching up more than ever.

To Hwasa's surprise, the squeezable sight wriggled out of the arms occupying it, paws slipping and sliding on the unfamiliar marble underneath. Once it recovered a sense of balance, the next order of business—Hwasa—was already determined.

The overwhelming flurry of fuzziness launched itself at Hwasa with the speed of...a small dog, rearing up to rest its front legs on Hwasa's knees. Not really a dog lover herself (she found most dogs overwhelming and stressful, especially when they got excited), all the affection took her normal brain functions on vacation.

"Ah, Moonbyul, you did it again!" The flustered woman scolded as harshly as she could muster considering the circumstances (aka the fluffy ball of energy melting her resolve).

"Sorry, but I just couldn’t resist!" Moonbyul lamented. "Look at her! She's irresistible!"

"If anyone else heard you talking they'd think you have some kind of for this stuff."

"Wha..? No! You know that's not true!"

"I’m kidding, but seriously we need to get out of here before someone figures out that I’m breaking my own rules. Now come on," Hwasa grumbled as she snatched the inquisitive puppy up in one hand, grabbed the brunette's hand in the other, and dragged her upstairs.

They soon stood in front of a ramshackle apartment door sprinkled with areas where the wood gave way to rot. Moonbyul often talked about testing to see if the door would break from a single push, and Hwasa would’ve caved if she could afford to replace it. Wheein probably wouldn’t be too happy about living without a door. However, if it ever does get replaced (before it completely goes to ), Moonbyul will be the one to call for the removal process.

In order to avoid knocking on the precarious door, Hwasa instead yelled, "Wheein! We've got a new arrival!"

"What?" Quiet shuffling seeped through the paper-thin walls, and soon enough a face peeked out through an opening in between the door and its frame. The expectant face quickly became indifferent upon meeting an alert pair of eyes. "Oh, another dog. Whoopee!" Came the sarcastic cheer. And the door promptly shut in their faces.

Moonbyul rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly, "I could've sworn she used to be more excited about stuff like this."

"She was, until like the thousandth one you brought in! You've tainted us both!" Hwasa complained dramatically, throwing her friend a glare.

"S-sorry. I'll go take care of this on my own then..." The pathetic statement was embellished by a slight sniffle. When Hwasa glanced toward her at the noise, Moonbyul averted her playful gaze as an attempt to avoid getting caught.

Hwasa was indeed aware of Moonbyul’s half-hearted trickery, but she didn't really mind.

"Fine. C'mon, you baby. Let's go give this guy some TLC." She acquiesced, making her way down the carpeted hallway to Moonbyul’s apartment.

“…Lola’s a girl.”

“Shut up.”

---

Two hours later the dog lay wrapped up in blankets on Moonbyul's lap with droopy eyes and a full tummy. The two girls were both slouching on a couch that looked like it had been mauled by a tiger. In Moonbyul's defense, she wasn’t privy to the hunger some cats had for that kind of destruction. She’d learnt her lesson by now.

"The tags we found have a phone number but no address or anything," Moonbyul informed Hwasa, pausing to pry her phone from her pocket without disturbing the dog. "They look pretty old and beat up so it won't be surprising if the phone number isn't right anymore, but we should try anyway."

Following the token beeps and brrrrs--quite a lot of them, actually--there was finally an answer.

"Hello! Who's this?" The loud response sounded hostile at first before they registered the cheery tone. Even so, Moonbyul cringed in displeasure and guided the phone further away from her ear.

"Uh, hello." She had been taken so off-guard by the ringing in her ears that she'd forgotten what she was going to ask. Moonbyul could tell by the lengthy silence (that the other girl didn't seem to create naturally) that she was waiting for her to continue.

"Um... Oh yeah! Have you lost a dog recently?" Her frequent visits to the vet and consequent enlightening conversations with the employees had taught her many things about doing this kind of thing, and one thing they emphasized was to not lead people on, to let them give you the information instead of the other way around. It avoids a lot of false hope and potential dog thievery.

"No, I haven't. Why?"

"Well, I found this phone number on the collar of a lost dog I picked up today."

"Oh. I don't know why you'd get this number... WAIT! Hang on!"

Before Moonbyul could express her confusion, muffled footsteps, shuffles, bangs, and other indiscernible noises came through the phone for a while until it stopped, only to be replaced by a heavenly voice.

"Hello? I think my friend said you found a dog with this phone number on the collar? I lost my dog a week ago!"

And Moonbyul couldn't even enjoy it, because it was a familiar heavenly voice. One that mostly used to anger her. But when it wasn’t making her mad, it was making her swoon instead. Secretly swoon, she hoped.

“Should I acknowledge that I recognize her voice? What if she doesn't recognize mine; it'd be weird!”

“But if Lola is her dog, then we’ll have to meet to give her back! Won't she know then?”

“Whatever, I'm all about delaying the inevitable. I'll just leave it up to chance and pray that she doesn't remember me at all.”

"Hello?"

"Oh! Sorry, yeah. As I was telling your…uh, friend, I found a dog earlier today. Could you describe it for me?"

"...sure. She's a Beagle, small, tricolor, her name is Lola."

"That matches up. So do you wanna come to my place or should I go to yours?" Moonbyul questioned distantly, preoccupied with finding a way to avoid this meeting.

“I could ask Hwasa to go. But she probably won't help me out; she likes to laugh at my angst. Or Wheein. But she seems sick of the whole ordeal... Maybe I could hire someone off the street? Or another friend? But I only have my coworkers, and I can't trust any of them...they might be creeps or try to sell the dog on the black market! They seem okay at work but who knows what they get up to in their spare time!”

"I can't believe you found her! I'll come by your place tomorrow afternoon if that's okay?" The kind-of stranger questioned eagerly, excitement evident in her voice.

"This probably isn't the case, but there's always a chance this dog isn't yours, so please keep that in mind. Sometimes owners get so worked up about seeing their dog again that if it ends up being a false positive they feel the devastation all over again," Moonbyul warned. There were many a time when the aforementioned was the case. "Aside from that, tomorrow afternoon is fine with me. Giving me your current phone number would be great as well in case something comes up."

After a brief exchanging of information—excluding their names, miraculously—Moonbyul flicked her phone onto the other side of the couch and stretched comfortably, Lola still snoozing away with her head on her temporary caregiver's lap.

Hwasa glanced up from her own phone. "I guess that went well," her eyes traveled down to the slumbering Beagle, "she must be tired. I wonder how long it's been since she's had a nice, long rest."

"I didn't ask. Anyway, that woman’s coming to pick up Lola tomorrow afternoon. I'll probably be lazy for the rest of the day. First order of business is to watch TV while Lola has nap time. Second order of business will be determined at a later date if I don’t fall asleep. So if you want to escape now, this is your chance."

"‘That woman’? You still don't know her name?"

Moonbyul's eyes lit up with the revelation. "Ah, I thought I'd forgotten something! Oh well, it's not like it's that important anyway. I can just ask her tomorrow if I’m really that curious." She reasoned, absentmindedly scratching the space behind Lola's ears.

“Well, I guess I won’t be confirming my suspicion about her anytime soon…”

"Okay, I guess. Pretty weird that you'd forget to get her name and vice-versa. Suspicious, even. Maybe she's a criminal; you could look her up immediately if she told you her name! Be careful tomorrow. In fact, I'll keep an eye out! Bye!"

Hwasa disappeared before any protest could be made.

A/N: in my defense, I actually feel like the coincidental forgetfulness to exchange names is a plausible thing! If they were just focusing on information, "business", and in Solar's case finding out her dog might still be alive and well, it seemed natural to me that name exchanging could just completely slip their minds. DON'T QUESTION MY PLOT CONVENIENCES!