#perhaps xd

“No idea who this guy is, but he puts me to sleep – not because he’s boring or anything! Although, heh, okay, fine, I don’t always understand what he’s talking about. He’s into a lot of niche topics. Anyway! I know you’ve been looking for new podcasts, and this guy has a really soothing voice. You’ll know what I mean.”

She’d been curious the first time. Late in the night, having submitted her assignment at 2:32 AM, her fingers aching and her brain in a fog. She was a night owl anyway. But even so, the adrenaline-fuelled wave that had carried her through her mad dash to get her assignment completed hadn’t yet subsided.

Without anything else to do, she’d looked up the podcast her friend had recommended and selected the most recent one. The description had told her it was on the Old Farmer’s Almanac and how it differed from the modern versions. It seemed to be an incredibly dry topic, but Yue had thought to give it a chance when she noticed that the podcast had a surprisingly high following.

It started there. When the host began talking about how the changes in weather patterns could be chalked up to climate change and how the constellations had differed in position since then because of a natural phenomenon called precession, Yue found herself finishing the episode in the blink of an eye before mindlessly scrolling back down and starting from the very first one.

The Knowledge Seeker was what the podcast was called. An apt name, she thought, when the host would discuss topics she’d barely, if ever, given thought to at all. It almost became a game to figure out who this guy was just from listening to his voice and picking apart the topics he’d chosen. He likely had a military background, given the familiar, knowing way he’d spoken about the origins of naval slang, and how the insight he had when talking about past battles was unparalleled.

Over time, she slowly familiarised herself with his speaking habits. The confident drawl of his words, the thoughtful pauses between sentences, the way he enunciated every syllable, forming each word with clarity and precision. He spoke like he was used to speaking to large crowds, the cadence of his voice mesmerising and compelling her to hang onto his every word.

Yue had no idea when or how her obsession started, but the podcast became her solace on bad days, a balm to her weariness, and a release from the stress of studying.

“… animals have long played a role in military settings,” the host was saying in this week’s episode, several months after she had first subscribed. “In fact, and this is a personal story of mine, I suppose I should divulge the meaning behind this podcast’s name.”

Yue straightened up, setting down her pencil. Whoever the host was, he was a reclusive man, rarely letting slip of anything about his personal life.

“When I left the navy, I left with, um, PTSD. About a year after I left, my friend called me and said he was bringing something over to me: a puppy he’d found in a box behind the public library. I was in a bad state at the time and reacted poorly to the news. But, stubborn bastard he is, he brought the dog over and, well, I guess the dog grew on me because he’s still with me now. In fact, he’s currently sitting on my feet because holding me hostage is apparently his favourite way of taking a nap.”

A chuckle, and Yue was not ashamed to admit she’d replayed it several times over.

“His name is Seeker. He’s the cutest fucking thing in the world as well as the most spoilt thing. I suppose the latter is on me. I never learned how to say no when my friend brought him over, and I never managed to learn after that.”

Yue couldn’t help cracking a smile. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine him as a doting pet owner, but here he was, rambling on about his dog’s annoying habits with an obviously fond voice. Eventually, he must’ve realised that he had gone off on a tangent, as he abruptly cleared his throat and returned to discussing messenger birds.

.

She was standing directly behind a man at one of the local coffeeshops, wondering if she should try sneak a photo of his adorable dog. It looked like a Shiba Inu, curled tail wiggling excitedly as it rested its front paws against the counter wall. A red collar was barely visible around its neck, buried by a thick scarf of fur.

Yue really wanted to sink her fingers into that fur.

“Black coffee and a little something for your pupper,” the barista’s voice broke Yue out of her canine reverie as she looked back up just in time to see the man accept his cup of coffee along with a smaller cup filled with whipped cream.

“Thank you.”

His voice was deep, honeyed and warm. There was something familiar about his voice, but Yue couldn’t put her finger on it. Maybe she’d heard it in passing one time on campus. This was a coffeeshop beloved by students, after all. Although, the man did sound like he was older. Maybe a professor?

She didn’t catch any glimpse of his face. Only the slope of broad shoulders, a ramrod straight back, and neatly combed brown hair. But what truly caught her attention was when, as the man stepped out of the coffeeshop, he clicked his fingers at his dog and said –

“Come on, Seeker.”

The world seemed to slow around her as Yue whipped her head back towards the man, craning desperately to see if she could, just for a moment, catch sight of his face. But it was too late. A swarm of students passed by, swallowing up man and dog from view.

Oh, come on.

Yue internally cursed at herself. Figures the one time she did manage to coincidentally stumble upon the elusive podcast host, she failed to recognise his voice despite listening to it almost every night. For who else could it have been? She’d practically engrained his voice into her head, and yet – and yet…

“Coffee’s ready, miss.”

Yue jerked her head up, meeting the friendly gaze of the barista who plonked her sugary concoction onto the counter.

“Oh – thanks,” she stuttered. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

The barista winked. “The dog?”

Yue stubbornly denied the heat clawing up her neck. “Yes, the dog.”

“He comes in every Friday afternoon,” the barista said slyly. “Always with his dog. You should say ‘hi’ sometime. He’s grumpy, but he means well.”

“The dog, you mean?” Yue said somewhat drily.

The barista’s smile broadened.

Yue was about to say something else, when, catching sight of the clock on the wall, her heart nearly jolted to a stop.

“Thanks for the drink,” she said hurriedly, snatching her frappe. She had five minutes before class started, and the lecture theatre was on the other side of campus. There was no time to be thinking of cute dogs and cute men right now.

No, not cute men. She didn’t even see his face.

Yue ducked out of the coffeeshop to join the teeming mass of students, picking up the pace as the minutes started ticking down.