I let out a short sigh and frowned. I really shouldn’t have taught this kid that. I was not supposed to show him the useless features.
Last night, even asleep, I kept feeling like someone was whispering by my ear, so I opened my eyes.
[Walkie-Talkie] “Guide Kim Doweon?”
Cha Gweonwoo was calling my name over the radio like a man in agony.
[Walkie-Talkie] “...Mr. Cha Gweonwoo, why aren’t you sleeping—what the hell are you doing?”
[Walkie-Talkie] “Wow. It works great.”
[Walkie-Talkie] “……”
[Walkie-Talkie] “Since you’re up, dream of me. That’s all.”
“Ha…”
With a flat face I checked his message.
[Message] When do you finish? ^^
And this morning he’d asked me fifteen times if he could come to school with me. Who insists on tagging along when I’m going to take an exam? When I asked why, he said he didn’t want to be alone in that big house. I gave him a perfectly logical rebuttal.
Even if you come, you’ll just be alone on a campus bigger than that house. I’m taking the exam by myself.
Maybe he ran out of words—he stopped insisting.
I checked the time. The test starts at ten. Mm, five minutes and I’m done.
[Me → Cha] It’s almost over. Why?
Apparently he’d been staring at the summoner—his reply came razor-fast.
[Cha → Me] So I can be ready right on time ^^
Ready for what, timed to what?
Before I could reply, like he’d read my mind, he jumped in:
[Cha → Me] We said we’d go to training together this afternoon, right? ^^?
Was that murderous emoticon saved as a canned phrase or what? It’s at one—what’s he “prepping” already? I texted back lazily.
[Me → Cha] Training’s at 1, so you can get ready slowly.
[Cha → Me] Still, could you tell me exactly when you’ll be done? ^~^
Is he curious what time I’m coming home? I didn’t want to ignore him; that slightly crooked mouth of his nagged at me.
[Me → Cha] Around 10:05 lol
By the time I shuffled over to the music building, his reply came in:
[Cha → Me] Okaaay ^----------------------^
***
As expected, the Lyric Writing Theory exam took less than five minutes.
Lyrics are child’s play. The theme was “Everyday Life,” so I wrote “A week has seven days: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday,” and boom—one verse, done.
But there was a twist. The professor grabbed me the second the exam ended.
He said he’d brought banana chips back from Hawaii and they were amazing, so I should have some. Knowing full well he hadn’t hauled me over just for that, I sat with my knees neatly together.
I hadn’t had a one-on-one with the department chair since freshman year. Some classmates got chummy with him, but I always kept a polite distance.
I respected him so much I couldn’t even look him in the eyes during lectures; I’d keep my head bowed over the desk, silently praying for his health and peace.
“Eat.”
“Yes, professor. Thank you, I’ll enjoy them.”
“Tasty, right?”
With three banana chips as a bribe, he pumped me for intel: how were our cohort’s relationships, what were my classmates doing these days, what were other years up to. Then what I’d do over the break, whether the guide work was manageable—this and that.
The point finally came after about ten minutes.
“Has Kim Du-won ever been in love?”
My name is Kim Doweon.
My face heated at the line that dropped ten minutes in. I could hear his inner voice loud and clear:
“I told you to write lyrics about love and you turned in a song about your cat. At your age, seriously? Have you even been in love?”
I quietly set down the fifth banana chip I’d been about to grab, all clueless. Right—he hadn’t called me in here to feed me chips.
The professor sighed like he’d expected this, gaze disapproving.
“Kid, you’re a musician—how have you not fallen in love even once?”
Get dumped, be pathetic, cling in disgrace, suffer a proper broken heart, confess in poetic lines, cry like you’re dying, drunk-dial, wrap yourself round someone’s legs and pretend you’ll die—that’s how music comes out. Every pop song in the world is really about love. Before I got married, I experienced every kind of love without prejudice! He lectured and lectured, then ended up telling the story about how, on a trip to ‘Fr—ance’, he chased away a pigeon for the woman at the next table in a Paris cafeteria and their eyes met—and I wept inside.
“‘France,’ really? What era are we talking about.” Last time he spent two whole hours of lecture on that story alone. At this rate he’d get to the tale of the woman he met on a train to the Soviet Union.
I started worrying about Cha waiting at home. I’d told him five minutes. Should I message that I’d be a bit later?
But he was right in front of me; texting felt rude.
Right when the story left “France” and crossed into the Soviet Union, my wrist buzzed—bzzzt—hard. The vibration felt wrong. I checked my wrist.
Code Blue.
At the blue screen, my heart went stiff as stone.
Why would a guy at home be calling me out of nowhere? Did something happen while he was alone?
At the same time, I thought: this is my only way out of here. I raised my hand carefully.
“Professor, I’m sorry, I just got a call…”
His eyes, which had gone all wistful, snapped to the present and he hurried to wrap up.
“Ah, Du-won, yes. You’d better go.”
It’s Doweon.
“Yes. Thank you for the banana chips, professor.”
“Right. And try some love over the break.”
As I hurried out with my bag, the alert buzzed again.
He needs guiding now? What did he get up to alone at home?
I tilted my head. Ignoring it would be reckless—the memories were too fresh. Cha Gweonwoo, tears dripping, saying he wanted to die.
Was he still depressed? Did I leave him alone too long? Should I have stayed with him?
Still frowning, I long-pressed his name on the summoner and hit [Call]. Coincidence? A ringtone sounded… close by.
Why do I hear it here?
I tore my eyes off the summoner and looked toward the sound. The person leaning against the wall right next to me looked at me and grinned.
I nearly fainted on the spot.
What the hell? Is that really Cha Gweonwoo in front of me? Standing in the corridor of my arts building?
While I stood there speechless, he eyed his own summoner with interest and said, calm as you please, “Oh, it’s more accurate than I thought.”
Are you insane? I gathered my lips, which were flapping freely like a-e-i-o-u, and managed to ask, “Are you out of your mind?”
Yeah. I should never have shown him those features.
I mean, who could’ve known he’d use them like this?
No—before that: why the hell is he here?
“Why are you here? Why did you come—no, why are you here, sir?”
My tongue tangled itself in panic. He just smiled, spinning like a kid at an amusement park. “I was bored at home.”
“So you called me—no, you tracked me—no, are you sane?”
I felt like I’d just been whacked in the back of the head with a goblin’s club. What even is this? I’ve never seen an esper use summoner features for crap like this. I swear there’s no one else on Earth.
“I definitely told you to use it for emergencies only.”
He rubbed his innocent eyebrows and made excuses. “Mm. It was an emergency.”
“What, exactly.”
“Mm… being alone in a big house made me really depressed. The fridge was too loud.”
And the ceiling was too high… and… Rolling his eyes around, fishing for more reasons, he looked ready to add to the list. I cut him off, firm.
“You can’t use the summoner for personal reasons.”
His brows twitched like he couldn’t parse what I’d said. “Why is looking for my guide personal?”
“The problem is you came all the way here to find your guide.”
What esper hunts down his guide at the guide’s university? Are you sane!
He shrugged, shameless. “I wasn’t going to go inside, but when five minutes passed and you still weren’t out, I thought something might’ve happened.”
You call that an explanation? I stared, dumbfounded, and only then did he sneak a glance at my face.
“I won’t do it.”
“……”
“Don’t hate me. Right now, the only person I have in this world is Guide Kim Doweon.”
At the suddenly drooping voice, I glanced up. The corners of his eyes had fallen like a scolded puppy’s.
I mean, what did I even say to deserve that tragic face?
Over that unfamiliar, wilted expression, the image of him from last night—crying and clinging to me—overlapped, and guilt crept up on me.
His line—you’re the only one I have in this world—hit my chest like a heavy stone.
All right. If he doesn’t know any better, I guess… it happens.