Chapter Sixteen #3
Yejun sighed. “I thought you’d realized by now that I am a huge loser and my only hobby is running imaginary scenarios. Most of them involve you. Adjusting them by a few hours is just some quick mental math.”
“Is this why you’re so good at calculus?” I said, breezing right over the “most of them involve you” comment.
“So I can take you on beautiful and seemingly spontaneous dates?” he said. “Of course.”
My mind latched onto the word dates, and I couldn’t help but smile. I reached for Yejun’s hand and laced my fingers with his.
As his magic flowed through me, it felt like I was standing under a waterfall of light, its coolness smoothing away the sharp, unpleasant edges of the real world.
I was tethered to Yejun’s heart, and in our private universe there was no war, no points, no final exam.
Nothing but the song of our heartbeats together.
When the indigo haze cleared, we were standing under a clear blue sky.
“Now this is perfect,” Yejun said. He glanced down at the bag on his other hand, then set it on the table. “Well, almost perfect. How about I get you my actual favorite snack, for future reference, and we can share it?”
“Yes please,” I said, glaring accusingly at the ginseng candies that were spilling out of the bag onto the table. He smiled as he stood up, ruffled my hair, then headed back inside CU.
For a moment, I allowed myself to think that everything would be fine. Yejun was happy with me again, so he would help me figure a way out of my mission. I would find Hana, I wouldn’t start a war, and everyone would be safe. It was easy to be an optimist when the sun was out.
It was a beautiful thought for all of five seconds. Until I saw who was crossing the Bulgwang stream.
There I was, in my school uniform, clutching a bag of honey butter chips and walking across the stepping stones. Jihoon was following behind me, his backpack on his back and mine on his front.
This was the day Jihoon had given me the bracelet.
Jihoon looked over his shoulder, and I quickly turned away so he wouldn’t see another Mina gawking at him. Through the fogged window, I could see Yejun’s silhouette inside CU, making his way down the candy aisle.
If Yejun saw me with Jihoon, he would be upset all over again, and snacks probably wouldn’t make up for it a second time.
I watched helplessly as Jihoon took out the bracelet. This was the part where I was supposed to fall into the stream and ruin the moment. If it happened fast, maybe Yejun would miss it.
But instead, the other Mina smiled as she took the bracelet, slipping it on her wrist.
That wasn’t right.
Something must have changed. Yejun said he was good at adjustments, but maybe he’d made a mistake and I’d changed this day. Would I actually complete the mission this time around, just in time for Yejun to come out of CU and see me kissing Jihoon?
The wind blew my hair back as I glared at my past self. I remembered how, back then, using Jihoon had felt like a game.
One day, you’ll regret this, Mina, I thought. Don’t do it.
But the other Mina couldn’t hear my thoughts, so she only smiled her same sharp lie of a smile and leaned closer to Jihoon.
Then suddenly, her gaze locked with mine.
She froze, the smile dropping off her face.
I tensed up, wondering if I should run into CU, but it was already too late—I’d been seen.
The other Mina was talking frantically to Jihoon now, gaze darting back and forth between me and him. Just as Jihoon started to turn around, Mina grabbed him and both of them toppled into the river.
I let out a sharp laugh, my shoulders relaxing.
There, I thought. I fixed it.
The other Mina made a quick exit, just as she was supposed to, and stormed over to me.
“What?” she said, crossing her arms.
Something about the way she spoke—the resigned tiredness of that single word—felt so familiar.
Here I was, standing in front of my past self, an open bottle of banana milk on the table beside me. All that was missing was …
The confetti, I thought. The confetti that Yejun had showered over me when I’d passed my calculus test. The confetti that was still in the pocket of the backpack I was currently wearing.
I was the organic Echo, just as Yejun had thought.
I dropped my gaze to past-Mina’s shoes—at the time, I’d wondered what could have possessed me to pour banana milk all over them, but now I understood.
On the day I’d met Jihoon, he’d complimented my shoes—these shoes—and spilled orange juice on me. I’d found his apology so funny that we’d become friends and I’d decided that using him for my infiltration mission would be easy.
I wished it had never happened.
I picked up the banana milk, just as I was always destined to, and poured it over her—not my—shoes.
“Sorry,” I said, even though I wasn’t sorry at all.
“Is that all?” the other Mina said. “Any more infiltration missions you want to ruin for me while you’re here?”
No, I thought, though I do need to make a quick escape before Yejun sees you.
I reached into the front pocket of my backpack, grabbed a handful of confetti, and tossed it into the other Mina’s face.
She sputtered as one of the tiny pieces got in her eye. “Are you serious?” she said.
I didn’t stick around to see what happened next.
Yejun was just coming out of the store with a plastic bag in each hand. I grabbed his arm and tugged him around the corner and down the street before past-Mina could see us.
“Where are we going?” Yejun said. “What happened to the milk?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, turning another sharp corner. I knew which direction I’d gone, but I had no idea where Jihoon had walked after parting ways and didn’t want him to spot us.
It wasn’t until I drew to a stop, certain we were out of sight, that I realized something strange.
My timesickness headache hadn’t gone away.
The banana milk loop had been caused by an organic Echo, just as Yejun had suggested, but the constant ache behind my eyes hadn’t lifted in the slightest. Did that mean I’d done something wrong and hadn’t really closed the loop?
“It’s honey butter chips, by the way,” Yejun said.
I flinched, thinking about the other Mina holding the chips as she crossed the river. “Huh?”
Yejun pulled a bag of honey butter chips out of his plastic bag. “My favorite snack,” he said. “The perfect umami blend of salty and sweet.”
“That’s not what umami means,” I said distractedly as my phone buzzed. It was a reminder I’d set up in my calendar—my quarterly evaluation was due tonight.
“Crap,” I said under my breath, slumping against the wall. “I have to go back and turn in my report. Or finish it and then turn it in, actually.”
“Procrastinator,” Yejun said, poking my side. “Okay, let’s go back so Hyebin doesn’t skin you alive. You can even take a bag of chips with you.”
“My hero,” I said, taking Yejun’s hand. His fingers laced with mine, holding me tight as he carried us home.
Hardly anyone was working at headquarters this late at night.
Lower-ranked office workers didn’t stay for night shifts, senior agents like Hyebin were out in the field, and the timeline architects rarely left their private wing.
I sat alone in the computer lab, which was dark because I was too tired to stand up every five minutes to dance for the motion-activated lights.
I pulled up the half-finished draft of my quarterly report from Google Drive, plugged in some moderately flattering scores for my self-evaluation, and printed it.
I prayed I didn’t have to actually see Hyebin and could just leave the report on her desk. I would have to give her extra Choco Pies tomorrow, or maybe the rest of the week, until she forgave me. As it was, I wasn’t expecting a good score from her.
I clutched the report to my chest as I knocked on Hyebin’s door, but the room was dark and the doorknob wouldn’t budge.
I debated just sliding the report under the door, but something told me that Hyebin wouldn’t appreciate stepping on it as soon as she returned to her office.
I sighed and went to the security desk to ask Seulgi.
“Hyebin was helping Sajangnim with something in his office,” Seulgi said. She must have noticed my stricken expression because she laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry, Sajangnim is in a meeting. He left Hyebin in there by herself.”
As if Hyebin is less scary than Hong Gildong, I thought grimly. “Thanks, Seulgi-nim,” I said, heading to the left wing, down the echoing hallway to Hong Gildong’s office.
You’re just handing her some paper, I told myself. This is not the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
I took a steadying breath and knocked twice on the heavy wooden door.
“Come in,” Hyebin’s voice called from the other side.
Cautiously, I opened the door.
Hyebin, still scrolling through something on Hong Gildong’s scrying pool, didn’t acknowledge me as I entered.
“Sunbaenim,” I said, shifting from foot to foot, “I just wanted to say—”
“Do you have the report or not?” Hyebin said.
“I … yes,” I said.
She gave me a cursory glance, then checked her watch and jolted to her feet. “Staple it, then leave it in the pile and go home.”
I nodded and bowed as she strode past me, slamming the door behind her like she couldn’t stand to be in my presence for a second longer. I sighed, trudging over to the desk.
Hong Gildong’s scrying pool reflected the overhead light like a golden halo, a ring around my own reflection. If only I were Hyebin, and Hong Gildong trusted me to leave me alone with his own scrying pool and all his files …
All his files, which were currently right in front of me, unguarded.
I set my report to the side and glanced at the door, listening for the sound of Hyebin’s footsteps returning. When no sound came, I hurried around the desk and tapped the surface of the scrying pool. Four glimmering words floated to the surface of the screen.
Please enter your signature
I sighed. Of course Hong Gildong’s scrying pool was locked.
Surely no one had access to files more important than him.
I pulled open a couple drawers, hoping he might have jotted his signature down on a Post-it or something, but all I found were unorganized office supplies in various shades of gold—scissors, staples, paper clips, thumbtacks.
Considering that most of our documents weren’t actually paper, I figured this was just part of Hong Gildong’s hoard rather than anything he actually used.
I sighed and shut the drawers, moving around the desk before Hyebin could catch me snooping and have yet another reason to hate me.
I grabbed a gold stapler off the desk and stapled the top corner of my report. As I started to set it on top of Hyebin’s other papers, I noticed the file at the top of the stack, and my hand froze. There, in bold black letters, was the name of the last agent to turn in their report:
KIM YEJUN