Chapter Fifteen
Yejun didn’t come to school on Monday, and I started seriously considering how to ask Hyebin about it. Hey, Sunbae-nim, hypothetically speaking, do we have any time jails under Emart where we keep traitors before erasing them? Seen any new traitors lately? Asking for a friend.
None of my texts were going through to his phone anymore, which I hoped meant he’d turned it off so he couldn’t be tracked.
All weekend, I’d stayed awake staring at the ceiling, paranoid that I’d miss one of Yejun’s texts in the middle of the night, and now I was falling asleep a little bit in class every time I blinked.
At least Jihoon brought me coffee in the morning in addition to Yakult.
Unfortunately, he also insisted on holding my hand and escorting me to all my classes even though it made him late for his own, and he had downloaded a date-counting app to track how many days we’d been dating, since apparently we were official now.
As sweet as Jihoon was, I felt like a liar whenever his face lit up at the sight of me.
I needed to break it off somehow but couldn’t figure out how to do it without feeling like a supervillain.
Maybe I could tell him I’d had a religious awakening and had to become a nun, or gradually reduce how often I showered until he found me too gross to be around and lost interest?
But at this point, Jihoon seemed so hopelessly enamored with me that he would probably call my used tissues “art” and donate them to a museum.
And of course, there was the small matter of how to get out of starting a war.
The best solution I could think of at the moment was to “accidentally” miss when I tried to assassinate the politician and pray that Hong Gildong thought I was just nearsighted instead of a traitor, but surely he would either make me try again or give me something even worse to do instead.
I didn’t expect Yejun to just hand me a solution, but it would have been nice to at least talk to someone about it. The mission was obviously classified, which meant my parents didn’t want to hear about it, and Hyebin was … well, Hyebin.
“Have you ever wanted to try an escape room?” Jihoon said as we walked along the stream after school. He’d just bought me a dairy-free bubble tea, and I was gnawing on the straw distractedly.
“No, not really,” I said. “I like my leisure time to be as low stakes as possible.”
“Oh, uh, me too,” Jihoon said quickly. “I hate them, actually.”
“You can like escape rooms even if I don’t,” I said, suddenly tired.
“But I want to spend time doing things you like,” Jihoon said.
I smiled, even though it felt more like a grimace.
The problem was, I didn’t know what I liked, because I hardly had time to like things.
I liked not failing my classes. I liked not disappointing Hyebin.
I liked getting closer to finding Hana. But Jihoon wouldn’t understand any of that, and I could never tell him.
Something bounced off the side of my head. I winced and looked up at the tree branches. A falling eunhaeng, maybe?
“What’s wrong?” Jihoon said quickly.
“Nothing,” I said, taking another sip of bubble tea. “A squirrel dropping acorns or something.”
Half a dozen eunhaeng rained down over my head.
I nearly dropped my tea as I stumbled back, glaring at the branches. But before I could curse out any squirrels, I caught a glimpse of blond hair and a sharp smile from up in the branches, shielded by yellow leaves.
I froze, unable to hold back my smile as I locked eyes with Yejun.
I suddenly felt wide awake, my whole body warm and light. Yejun was here, and he was okay.
Jihoon was frowning up at the tree, but I grabbed his arm and tugged him toward me before he could catch sight of Yejun.
“Just a squirrel,” I said quickly. “Sorry, I forgot something at school, so I’m gonna run back. See you tomorrow?”
“I can walk back with you!” Jihoon said instantly.
I shook my head, already walking away before he could try to kiss me goodbye. “No, no, I don’t want to make you late. Thanks for the bubble tea!”
I ran off around the corner and waited another minute until Jihoon was out of sight, then hurried back under the tree.
“Are you stuck up there like a cat?” I said. “Do I need to call the fire department?”
The leaves trembled as Yejun clambered down, landing easily on the path. “Cats always land on their feet,” he said with a smirk.
I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him, crushing him in a hug. He stumbled back in surprise, then his hands fell to my back and held me tighter. Here was the only person I could actually talk to about how the world was crumbling apart in my hands.
“Wow, you missed me, huh?” he laughed.
But when I said nothing and only gripped him tighter, feeling how fast my heart was racing compared to his, he pulled away.
“What’s wrong?” he said, trying to get a better look at my face.
I clamped my hands to his jacket, not letting him. “You didn’t get caught,” I said into his shoulder.
He let out a sharp laugh. “Of course not,” he said. “I’m too fast for them.” Then he tried again to pull back, tugging some of my hair out of my face. “Did something happen?”
I glanced around the street, where people were still meandering on both sides of the road.
“I can’t talk about it here,” I said.
“Okay,” Yejun said easily, taking my hand. We fit so easily together that I wondered why I’d spent so long resisting. “Where do you want to go?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Somewhere else.”
Yejun pressed his lips together in thought, then straightened up. “Did you like the cheesecake I brought you last week?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then that’s where we’re going!” he said, taking my hand and heading straight for the subway.
It was a quick two stops away, and he all but ran up the subway stairs the moment we reached our stop, as if I were dying from a lack of cheesecake and only he could save me.
His pace slowed as we neared the bakery, and I realized why once he stopped in front of the dark storefront.
A sign taped to the inside of the glass door said the owners were on vacation this week.
I pressed a hand to the glass and saw my own haunted reflection cast over the shadowed street.
I hadn’t realized how dark my eyes looked, how messy I’d let my hair get, how badly I’d gnawed my bottom lip until it bled.
Ever since Yejun had disappeared and Hong Gildong had handed me my final assignment, I’d felt like I was trying to hold the threads of the world together all on my own.
My hand slid down the glass and I hung my head, letting my hair fall in front of my face to hide the tears that were splashing the sidewalk.
“I’m sorry!” Yejun said, an edge of panic to his voice. He tried to pet my hair, but it felt more like he was trying to soothe a dog, and he quickly dropped his hands when he realized it wasn’t helping. “Okay, just … just stay here for a sec! I’ll fix it, okay?”
“You don’t have to—” I tried to say, but he was already charging down the sidewalk, ducking into the closest convenience store. I took a moment to wipe my face and tell myself to get it together, you absolutely cannot cry over a piece of cheesecake.
When Yejun popped out of the store, he was holding one of those big disposable bowls of ramen.
He slammed the bowl down on a bench, peeled back the foil, tossed the dry noodles aside and emptied his water bottle into the bowl.
I didn’t realize what he was doing until the surface of the water started glowing blue.
“Here?” I said, bracing myself in front of him to make sure the couple passing by didn’t see the magic-glowing ramen bowl.
“I’ll be quick,” he said as his fingers danced across the water.
Watching him script scenarios was like watching a concert pianist perform.
His fingers arced fluidly across the water, text appearing and disappearing faster than I could read it.
After a few moments, he straightened up with a smile and the water went dark.
“October tenth,” he said, holding out his hand. “The store wasn’t closed then. We’ll get you your cheesecake.”
I let out sharp laugh. “Are you sure this one slice of cheesecake isn’t going to destroy the world?”
“I ran the scenario, it’s fine,” he said. “All this will do is slightly alter a cloud formation in three days. It will look a little less like a hedgehog and a little more like a hippo.”
It was a silly risk to take, and I should have told him no. That we could just as easily chat somewhere private in the present, rather than risk creating another paradox.
But in that moment, I wanted to be in a world that only existed with me and Yejun. I wanted to feel his magic wrap tight around mine, to fold myself up in the soft blanket of his soul and rest. I slipped my hand into his.
Yejun must have sensed how serious the situation was, because he bought me two pieces of cheesecake.
He claimed it was for us to share but pointedly ignored his piece and pushed it toward me.
A delivery truck had pulled up in front of the café window, blocking off our view of the street, so it truly felt like no one existed in this tiny world except for the two of us.
“That one is Basque burnt cheesecake,” he said, pointing to the second piece, which I’d yet to try. “I firmly believe it can fix all problems.”
“Let’s throw some at Hong Gildong, then,” I said.
“There might not be enough cheesecake in the world for that,” Yejun said.
I took a bite, then my gaze snapped to Yejun in shock.
“It’s good, isn’t it?” he said, grinning.
I nodded, scooping up another bite. “If I eat enough of this, I might just forget all my problems entirely.”
“Don’t forget all of them,” Yejun said with a smirk. “It was cute when you were worried about me getting caught.”
“I was not worried!” I said.
Yejun only smiled and pulled out his phone. “You sent me … let’s see … fifteen texts? I don’t know, Mina, that seems pretty worried.”
“You saw my texts and didn’t bother responding?”