Minseo doesn’t ask for much. She believes she’s pretty low-maintenance. Give her space and quiet time to nap but also know when a scratch behind the ears is in order, and she’s happy.

She really does not ask for much.

Definitely doesn’t remember asking for a sister. A dog sister, no less.

For as long as Minseo can remember, it’s been her and her mom. Every once in a while, she’ll introduce a man, and sometimes Minseo likes him, sometimes she doesn’t. She really does want her to be happy, but it’s really best with just the two of them.

So whatever possesses Mom to bring home an annoying, over-excited dog who knows nothing about personal space--something Minseo values highly--is a mystery.

The day started out great but falls into the category just above an apocalypse when Minseo hears her mom’s even footfalls disturbed by someone’s bouncy, chaotic steps in the hall. It could be a neighbor, but they sound unfamiliar. Minseo knows literally everyone in their building, and no one has moved out recently or mentioned anything about visiting family or friends.

Not that Minseo’s gossipy or anything; she just likes to sit in the common area because the windows are really big and allow sunbeams for hours, and she’s an approachable, cute cat. People like to talk to approachable, cute cats.

She hasn’t waited at the front door for her mom since she was a little kitten, but today she’s curious with an edge of anxiety. Something about those energetic steps makes her tail shake.

Keys jingle, and a plastic keychain knocks against the door as Mom unlocks the door. She’s not looking as she opens it, talking over her shoulder, under her arm, and then into the kitchen, following the stranger and finally noticing Minseo.

“Hi, baby!” she greets brightly. “How was your day? I want you to meet someone--”

‘Someone’ is petite with big, triangular ears, bi-colored eyes, and a plumed tail that is wagging too fast to see very clearly. “Hello!” she greets. Apparently unable to stand still, she circles Minseo--she may have sniffed her hair, but Minseo really hopes not--and stands very close. “I’m Baekhee! I’m fourteen-years-old. Are you older than me? You don’t look it. You have pretty fur!”

“Thanks… I’m Minseo. Sixteen.”

“Aww,” Mom laughs, completely oblivious to her first-born’s discontent and mentally patting herself on the back. “She likes you!” She takes the handles of two large suitcases and wheels them into the room she and Minseo had spent a couple days cleaning and setting up as a ‘guest room.’

This guest is evidently planning on staying long-term.

Minseo scowls as her ear is nipped and swats at the girl. “Wonderful.” Stunned, Baekhee sits down and touches her face. It wasn’t a hard swipe, but tears well in her eyes, and her ears flatten to her hair.

Uncaring and wanting to escape before the dog makes even more noise, Minseo slips off to her bedroom, and her mom follows after guiding Baekhee onto the sofa.

Closing the door behind her, Mom sits beside Minseo and pets her hair. “C’mon, kitten. I don’t like you being alone all the time, and Baekhee’s a good girl! She’s just really excited…”

“She’s a dog.”

“You’ve never been biased before.”

“Kyungsoon is a quiet dog! She’s a good girl.” Ever since she was a puppy, Kyungsoon had her bursts of energy, but they’re at appropriate times and not when Minseo is napping or constantly, like this overgrown puppy. “And it’s not because she’s a dog.” She’s not usually a crier, but hot tears well up in her eyes and course down her cheeks as closes and nose plugs up with snot. “You didn’t say anything about her! I had no idea you were thinking about bringing her home. I’m happy it’s just the two of us--” Her voice catches in ; she chokes and sniffles.

Mom sighs and stops petting Minseo, pulling her into a tight bug, instead. “I’m sorry, kitten. I’m so sorry.” She kisses Minseo’s hair. “I should have said something. I thought it was a good surprise, but I didn’t think it through. You’re still my daughter; I love you so much.

“It’ll be an adjustment, but we’ll get through it.” Minseo sighs and relaxes her shoulders. She feels bad for crying, for getting her mom’s shirt wet with embarrassing tears, even though she doesn’t seem to mind. “She’s also looking for a good home, Minseo. Her last one...wasn’t great.” Being a social worker, Mom’s seen some pretty bad places and met a lot of kids traumatized from neglect and abuse. “Now, I’m not trying to guilt you into being nice,” but Minseo can already feel the ugly shame crawling over her shoulders and coiling around . Pushing some hair aside from Minseo’s face and rubbing the wet cheeks dry, she sighs and smiles softly. “Just give her a chance is all I’m asking. If you really and absolutely cannot get along, then I’ll talk to some of my friends. Maybe they’ll be a better fit.”

Minseo’s ears flatten. She didn’t mean to be a brat. There had been some off-hand ‘what if’ scenarios Mom had presented, like how things would be if they were a family of three or even four. Not once had she said she’d made a decision. Not once did she actually ask for her own daughter’s opinion or input, and that still hurts--

--but Baekhee is here now, and Minseo doesn’t want to contribute to the line of bad homes.

Tail high, she stalks back out to the living room. Baekhee is crying softly on the sofa, trying to take up as small a space as possible and running her hands over her tail. There’s a pile of white and black fur beside her. She flinches when she notices Minseo and quickly wipes at her wet cheeks, squishing the furball in her fist. “I’m really sorry,” she whispers. “I just get excited meeting new people, and you’re just so pretty and have such a nice house and mom…”

"I'm sorry," Minseo says, sitting beside her. Her heart curls into itself when the dog folds herself more. Cautiously, she puts a hand between Baekhee’s ears. They stand up a little before flattening again. "I shouldn't have hit you. That was mean."

"I know I can be a lot," Baekhee sniffles, chewing a fingernail and spitting out strands of fur. Two of her fingers are bandaged, ends peeling up and dark with grime. "I just get really excited."

"I understand, and that’s okay. Sometimes. Just try to rein it in when I'm sleeping, okay?"

“Are you sure you won’t be mad?” She sits up more. “You won’t--You won’t hit me again?”

Goosebumps rise along Minseo’s arms, and she flexes her claws but keeps her smile soft and kind. “I can’t promise to not be mad, but we’ll work together. This is an adjustment for both of us. If you’re not sure of something, just ask.”

“Would it be bad to ask for a hug?”

Minseo smiles, and she shakes her head.

Baekhee gives good hugs. When her tail wages fast, her body seems to vibrate. It’s kind of the dog’s version of a purr. Not soothing, but still nice.

Mom doesn’t ask for help with dinner, letting her girls bond on the sofa. After a while, their soft conversation evolves into laughter and squeals. As much as Baekhee needs a good home, Minseo needs someone to bring her out of her shell. She always seems to hold back, not wanting to stand out or take away from anyone else. The other kids in their building are younger than her and naturally look to her as a big sister.

This just seemed like a good idea, and maybe it is, but Mom sees she can’t just act on her plans like when Minseo was small. She’s a young woman, now, with her own ideas and has a right to be a part of family decisions.

Half an hour later, they sit around the kitchen table. Mom decided that they should celebrate their new family member with barbequed beef, steamed rice, and spicy kimchi. “And after dinner,” she says, pointing to the fridge, “there’s cake!”

Baekhee’s table manners could use some work. She sits on her feet to extend her reach and promptly chokes on two pieces of meat wrapped in lettuce, but after she swallows and stops coughing, she only has teary compliments.

To prevent disaster, Minseo takes the time to wrap meat in smaller portions, setting them neatly on Baekhee’s plate. Her tail wags eagerly, throwing fur into the air. They’re all used to eating bits of hair.

After dinner and cake, Mom declares that the dishes can be washed in the morning and that they should watch a movie. Halfway through, Mom falls asleep. She wakes up at the end credits and scratches both girls’ ears as she says good night. With it enough to offer a genuine smile, she kisses the top of Baekhee’s head. “Welcome home, honey.”

“You should go to bed, too,” Minseo says. “It’s been a long day.”

“I’m not,” Baekhee yawns, “sleepy, yet.” She obediently stands when Minseo takes her hand and walks to the guest room--Baekhee’s room.

It’s clean but not very personal, yet. Bare walls and floor offer a blank canvas. The bed is pushed into a corner, made up with blue bedsheets and a navy quilt. It faces the open closet. Two rows of low drawers sit in the bottom of the closet. A small table stands beside the bed.

Otherwise, it’s empty.

“We can look for a desk or better dresser, if you want,” Minseo offers. She flips the comforter down and puts her hands on her hips. “Mom doesn’t mind hooks on the walls for pictures or lights or whatever. Just, you know,” she shrugs, “make yourself comfortable. If you want something or aren’t sure about something, just ask. Mom works in the morning, but I’ll be home.”

Baekhee just nods, looking around like she’s in a glass shop and will break something if she breathes too much.

“Well... goodnight. I’ll use the bathroom first; it’s between our rooms.” She doesn’t know what else to say to help the dog relax, but there’s probably nothing she can say, anyway. It’s new and will just take time to get used to.

After brushing her teeth and washing her face, Minseo changes into pajamas and crawls into bed. Burrowing until her feet tuck over the mattress, she nuzzles her face into her worn old stuffed cat. It smells kinda funny, but it’s a familiar funny. If it went through the washing machine, it’d probably fall apart, anyway.

Sometime later, her ear twitches. The floorboards squeak outside her door. Someone sighs. Then silence.

Another squeak, a sigh, then silence.

Minseo slips out of bed and opens her door. Baekhee jumps, dropping her pillow onto her bare feet. “Were you planning on whining outside my door all night?”

“I wasn’t whining!” she whispers fiercely.. Grabbing her pillow again, Baekhee hugs it. “I just… Can I sleep with you? Or on the floor, if that’s too weird… I’m too nervous to sleep alone right now.” She holds the pillow over the lower half of her face, staring at something behind Minseo. Her tail wags slowly, pauses, and wags again.

Mom’s a light sleeper. Casting an eye towards her closed bedroom door, Minseo gently pulls the nervous dog into her room and shuts the door. The only light is from her digital clock, but she can see just fine. Her floor is also clear, so she navigates confidently while Baekhee walks with more trepidation.

“I don’t mind sharing, as long as you don’t snore. If you do, I’ll smother you with your pillow. And no kicking.” Her friend Lu Hua kicks. Hard. She blames Minseo’s bruises on soccer practice, but she doesn’t practice in her sleep. “No drooling. No stealing blankets--”

Baekhee doesn’t require much more invitation. She jumps on Minseo’s bed, flinches when scolded, and meekly snuggles under the covers, claiming the warm spot Minseo had left.

Climbing in beside the happier dog, Minseo can’t help but think how strange it is to be sharing her bed--her room, her house, her mom--with a stranger. They had no idea the other existed until today, although Mom probably talked about Minseo to Baekhee before inviting her to live with them. It’s like they’re skipping the usual slow meeting and getting to know one another and just leaping right to familiarity and intimacy.

Such thoughts evidently don’t plague Baekhee at all. After a few flinches that scare Minseo and soft, yippy sighs, she falls asleep. When Minseo slithers under the covers, Baekhee rolls over, pushing her own pillow between the bed and the wall and tucking herself around Minseo’s arm, instead.

Her tail wags under the covers when Minseo runs a hand through her hair, even as her fingers get tangled in sleepytime snarls. She’ll suggest that Baekhee braid her hair before bed. If she doesn’t know how, Minseo can teach her.

Maybe a little sister isn’t so bad, even if she is a rambunctious dog.

The first few weeks are a little rough. Overall, Baekhee really is a good girl; she listens well--when she wants to, and she behaves herself--when she wants to.

Sometimes, she just doesn’t want to.

“Baekhee!” Minseo slams her fist against the dog’s bedroom door. “ If you don’t stop howling, I’m going to kick you through the roof!” It’s ten o’clock on a Sunday morning, too early for decent people to be awake and making noise.

The door opens a crack, and Baekhee peeks out. The one eye Minseo can see is glassy and wet with tears. “I’m sorry, unnie…” She knows how to work the puppy eyes and opens the door wider, to hit Minseo with the full force of her slouch and tucked tail. “I’ll try to be quiet...”

“Thank you,” Minseo replies curtly and hauls her blanket up over her shoulders to stalk back to her room.

Not five minutes later, Baekhee’s banging away at her keyboard and singing at the top of her lungs.

Rather than employing a three-strike policy or numerous second-chances, Minseo throws her blankets off, storms the short distance to Baekhee’s room, and doesn’t knock.

Baekhee flinches when her door opens with a rush of upset air. For a moment, she really looks afraid, and Minseo feels bad, but she grabs her by the arm and marches back to her room. Closing the door, she all but throws the dog onto her bed, rolls her into a blanket, and tucks herself along Baekhee’s back.

“Unnie...it’s hot.” Her face is flushed, but Minseo can feel the strained twitch of her tail trying to wag. “What if I need to pee?”

“You’ll hold it or be kicked through the roof.”

“Can I at least roll over?” Minseo allows it, and after some shuffling and shifting, and they’re facing one another.

“Will you please be quiet, now?”

“Yes, unnie.”

Minseo shimmies down the mattress, like she usually does, but doesn’t feel comfortable until she throws an arm and a leg over the Baekhee burrito.

Baekhee is effectively immobilized, but she stretches her neck like a turtle from its shell and nuzzles Minseo’s hair.

She smiles when she hears the soft, even purrs of Minseo falling asleep. It’s a nice sound, easily one of her favorites. She wishes she could purr; she’d purr non-stop.

Even though she has her own room, which she does put her own touch on with posters and a desk with a second-hand desktop, she likes being with Minseo and wanders in and out to share a sudden thought, a bite of a treat, or just to see what the cat’s doing.

Baekhee doesn't go into Minseo’s room when she’s not home. She’s not banned, exactly, but it’s just not interesting without Minseo.

Left to her own devices while Mom and Minseo are shopping, she’s curious--a bedroom can reveal a lot about someone.

Namely for their smells.

Minseo is tidy. Everything has its place, and even her bed is made. It’s cold when Baekhee sits on it, but it’s soft and has lots of pillows and blankets to snuggle into.

Baekhee sighs as she looks around. It’s no fun when no one’s home. It’s too quiet.

Grabbing a pillow, she hugs it but finds little comfort. She can hear the hum of the air conditioner, the bubble of water in the dispenser on the counter. Sniffling with the onset of tears, she pauses.

The pillow smells funny.

Actually, the whole bed does. There’s still Misneo’s smell, but there’s someone else--not Baekhee.

Tired and frustrated, Baekhee throws herself down and rolls, kicking blankets and punching pillows until the other person’s cloying perfume is totally gone.

After she’s satisfied, she notices what she’s done, and her tail curls over her thigh.

Minseo will not be happy.

If she notices, that is.

Baekhee hastily throws the covers back over the bed, folds blankets, and fluffs pillows. Were the green ones together, or was it green-pink, pink-green?

The front door opens, and she’s torn between feigning nonchalance and begging forgiveness.

She’s not a bad girl--there was just something wrong that she had to fix.

“Baekhee? I’m back, honey.”

Oh, good. It’s just Mom.

“Minseo will be up in a couple minutes.”

Baekhee shoots out of Misneo’s room and hugs Mom, who stumbles and barely cuts off a swear. “Baek--? Girl, what’s the matter with you? I nearly fell!” But the girl just clings and looks sorry for herself. “We were only gone an hour, honey. What did you do?”

Minseo enters, greeting Baekhee warmly until she notices the suspiciously subdued reply and unenthusiastic tail.

“What did she do, now?”

“I don’t know,” Mom sighs. She waddles with Baekhe still attached and starts to put food away.

Minseo frowns but unwinds her scarf and goes to her room.

Baekhee counts to seven before the cat shrieks. “What did you do to my room?!”

Mom grabs Baekhee’s shoulders and marches her straight to Minseo’s incredulous fury. “It’s best to just face the music, Baekhee. I’ll stop her from maiming and murder, but you really need to learn to learn.”

It looks worse, now that Minseo is back for comparison. Rumples and wrinkles everywhere; a stuffed character plush doll is on the floor.

“What the hell were you looking for?”

“Nothing,” she mumbles.

“Then why did you mess up my room?”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Tears well in her eyes; she’s a frustrated crier. “And I tried to put it all back…”

“You didn’t do a very good job.” Baekhee thinks shes hears stupid dog and wilts.

Mom intervenes. “Okay, girls; time out. Yelling at her achieves nothing. Clean up for now; you’ll talk later.”

Baekhee helps with dinner, chopping vegetables and cutting meat. She starts feeling a little better until Minseo comes out of her room and softly calls her name.

Tail between her legs, she shuffles to Minseo’s bedroom. It’s put together again. Spotless. No wrinkles. Warm, though, because of Minseo’s presence.

Minseo’s sitting, already in comfy pants and a fluffy sweater Baekhee really wants to stick her face in. “Come here.” She pats the spot beside her. “Sit.”

Baekhee sits and keeps her head down. If she can’t see Minseo, it’s not so bad. She can hide behind her hair until Minseo pushes it over her shoulders.

“So, what happened?” She’s supposed to be the responsible, understanding big sister. It’s not easy, with a sibling like Baekhee, but she’s trying.

And Baekhee tries to explain--the loneliness, the quiet, the weird smell.

Minseo listens, looking at her pillows with a frown. “I just washed them… Lu Hua was over, but I don’t think she smells weird…”

“She does!” That was the smell! Lu Hua is a gorgeous, slightly neurotic, cat. “Her perfume or whatever--It, I mean, I dunno. I didn’t like it, so I tried to get rid of it.”

“Yeah, well, you did that. My bed smells like dog and is covered in white hair.” It’s always the white hair that sticks to things, and Baekhee can’t blame it on anyone else. Minseo’s hair is a really pretty red, and Mom dyes her hair. She’d swat Baekhee with a newspaper, if she suggested it was hers.

Baekhee wilts again and whispers an apology. Minseo’s still upset, but nothing is broken or otherwise ruined. She often straightens things throughout the day, anyway, so even without Baekhee’s intervening, she’d have made her bed and put things together again.

“It’s okay, Baek. Just don’t do it again, okay? I have my things where I like them, same as you.” Baekhee nods sullenly, but her tail wags a little.

It may have been a mistake, introducing Baekhee to the neighbor girls. She’s shy, at first, looking at Minseo for guidance and approval when she bows politely and doesn’t leap on anyone.

Chanmi, a tall and very friendly dog voted most likely to get into a fight with her own reflection, and Junghae, a smiley cat voted Scream Queen three Halloweens in a row as well as most likely to become a mother before thirty, welcome her warmly and immediately barrage her with questions. Behind Junghae, her little sister Junghwa meekly introduces herself. She runs away when Baekhee chases her around, finally finding refuge with Minseo, who tells the trio to go chase a squirrel.

They do. Chamni nearly gets bit. Junghae names it Sir Loin of Nuts. Baekhee declares she’s found her people. They enjoy singing and running around, and Baekhee proves herself weak to dares, doing whatever Junghae suggests she isn’t capable of. Chanmi is supportive no matter what.

Minseo is pretty sure Junghae is the unappointed leader of the Dumb and Dumber duo, but sometimes she’s just as dumb. As long as they have fun and don’t get hurt or hurt anyone else, Minseo is fine letting Baekhee go off and expend some energy. Gives her some quiet time or the opportunity to get her own stuff done without being interrupted every ten minutes.

It’s a known fact that cats lack personal space. It’s to be expected. However, they’re very subtle about it. Persistent, but subtle.

Dogs are just persistent.

Rainy days are horrible for everyone, because there’s not enough room in the apartment to play with wild abandon. The neighbors will complain. Outside, it’s wet. Baekhee likes puddles but hates having to take a bath afterwards. Minseo hates the humidity for what it does to her fur. Mom hates listening to their bored groans and restless sighs.

Finally deciding to read a book that was recommended to her, Minseo curls up on the armchair with a blanket around her shoulders. Baekhee is on the floor, television screen still flashing GAME OVER.

“Unnie…” She pushes her head into the cushion until her neck starts to hurt, then lets it bounce back. “Unnie...”

“What, Baekhee?”

“My ears are itchy.” Her wrist is in a soft cast after Chanmi tried to teach her how to skateboard. Chanmi is not a good teacher. And while her wrist is merely sprained, Baekhee believes it’s the end of comfort and self-reliance.

Minseo shifts so her book is on the armrest, holding it in place with one hand to scratch Baekhee’s scalp with the other. The dog’s head is against her knees, which probably isn’t all that comfortable, but she can’t make herself fit on the armchair with Minseo--although she’s tried.

Personal space has little meaning to a dog.

“I’m bored.”

Minseo hums. “Read a book. Clean your room. Hang your clothes in the closet. Organize your games.” Baekhee groans and picks up her controller again.

“I said I was bored, not that there’s nothing to do…” She saves her game and exits to the main screen before turning the console and television off. “Can we go to your room?”

“And do what?”

“I dunno.” She shrugs and yawns. “Take a nap?” The depths of tedium are deep when Baekhee suggests sleeping.

Minseo rereads the same page for the third time, listlessness and irritation making her tail tic. “You can nap in your own room.”

“I don’t wanna. Your bed is comfier.” She gets up on her knees and shuffles around to face Minseo. “And it’s boring alone. I don’t wanna be by myself. You can still read or whatever, just keep me company.” Crossing her arms, she settles her chin on them, bending her spine so her sticks out and her tail stands up in an arc. It slowly wags. “Please? Unnie. Unnie, please?”

“You’re being a brat.”

“Let’s go take a nap, and I won’t be a brat anymore.”

Minseo can keep saying no and ignore the begging brat; Baekhee will eventually give up and just lie on the floor. The book isn’t as good as she hoped, though. It’s a slow first chapter. The rain isn’t expected to move out until later in the evening. Gray skies and heavy humidity the ambition out of her.

“Fine. I’m setting an alarm, though. You won’t sleep tonight if you sleep too much now.”

“That’s okay!” Baekhee pulls her up by her wrists, leading the way with a bounce in her step to Minseo’s room. It’s more welcoming and easier to access, perfect conditions for an afternoon nap.

They’ve developed a routine when sleeping together. Baekhee is always between Minseo and the wall, both to keep her more still and also because she likes the closeness. She dives onto the mattress and laughs when Minseo leaps after her, blanket trailing like a deflated parachute. After a brief tussle--which Minseo wins, because Baekhee is ticklish--they settle down with the blanket tucked neatly around them.

The rain strikes the window with sharp plink plinks, falling in rivulets and joining neighbors to rush down towards the windowsill.

Baekhee kicks her legs free and squirms around, sitting up to pull her tail from beneath her hip and earning a pinch to her shoulder. She lies down to spoon Minseo and rubs her face between the cat’s shoulders with a hum.

Minseo doesn’t ask for much. She believes she’s pretty low-maintenance. She never asked for a sister, but she wouldn’t give her up for the world.

a/n: Written for Cherry Kisses Fest round one. (prompt no.122 Minseok is your average cat hybrid who enjoys peace and sleep. But her peaceful life turned into pure torture when her owner introduced her to the annoying over-excited dog hybrid who knows nothing about personal space.) It had no bearing on the story, so I didn't mention it, but Baekhee is a Horgi/Siborgi (Husky/Corgi), and Minseo is a Somali. ]For some reason, we call our pets siblings, even if they don't act at all like siblings. It's a weird human thing, but that's why Minseo and Baekhee are referred to as sisters and call Mom Mom. They do fall for each other when they're older, but I didn't make it that far in writing.]