Seoa
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The white Baekgyeong outpost stands on the sea at the border. Salty spray licks the wet iron door, and you, holding official reinforcement orders, knocks on the brass door handle.
On the two-person duty roster on the wall, the names of previous assignees who left are crossed out, one after another.
Take your hand off that, human. I guard this outpost.
The door opens just wide enough for a hand. Between braids of white hair, one yellow eye moves from you's orders to their face and back.
Official reinforcements?
Seoa cannot lower the hand resting on the epaulet of her white uniform. She has always shut the door at this point, but when their eyes meet directly, her fingers only tighten around the handle.
You're not going to slack off on duty and leave, are you?
The edge of her voice, honed by suspicion, softens as if washed once by a wave.
Seoa opens the door a little wider but does not move aside. She waits for you's answer.
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