“Ah, it’s spicy! Fuck! Why is it this spicy!”
Even so, it tasted good, so I kept dabbing my chopsticks into the sauce, barely a mouse dropping’s worth each time. Cha Gweonwoo grabbed my hand in a panic and stopped me.
“Why do you keep eating it if it’s too spicy?”
“Because it’s spicy and delicious!”
He watched me stubbornly keep going, then slid the cup in front of him over to me.
“If it’s too spicy, rinse it in water.”
What? I couldn’t help frowning. My pride cracked right down the middle. Was he looking down on me for not handling spice? I graduated from that trick in fifth grade.
“Don’t make fun of me.”
I said it flat, and his eyes went round. Then he burst out laughing—loud. A few stares flocked to his smiling face and then scattered again.
“I’m not teasing.”
Unbothered by the attention in the slightest, he coaxed me in a tone that absolutely sounded like teasing and—generously—handed over his boiled eggs. Two of them, even.
How does a person just give someone two eggs?
I stared at them, tearfully moved, and he murmured that I was cute. I’m pretty sure I just heard something I wasn’t supposed to. He didn’t mean me, right?
I flicked my eyes up. He had his chin propped on his hand, staring straight at me. When our eyes met, his curved like a picture. My mouth fell open on its own.
At this point, I was honestly worried.
Should we crack open his skull and take a look? Losing his memory must’ve scrambled him but good.
***
One perk of our job: the Center provides a car for commuting in and out.
So there we were, side by side under a convenience store parasol, sucking on ice cream while we waited for the car I’d called. Nothing soothes a scorched stomach like ice cream.
Sitting right next to me, Cha Gweonwoo kept sneaking me worried looks. Fair—my cone was melting down my hand like one of those chocolate fountains you see at buffets.
If I’d known we were going to sit in full sun, I should’ve picked a freeze pop. I had to be fancy and pick melon-flavored ice cream, and now behold this tragedy.
He polished his off in three bites, then held the stick crooked in his mouth and just stared at me. The look was so unbearably heavy that I pointed into empty air.
“Can you look somewhere else?”
He made a small face.
“You should probably eat faster. It’s about to drip on your clothes.”
Do you think I’m savoring this because it’s precious? I know eating fast would be good. I just can’t.
Instead of a whole speech, I pointed at the air again.
“Got it. Please look somewhere else.”
Still chewing on the stick, still looking at me, he finally scraped his chair back and stood. Guess he decided to give me space. Great idea.
I sized up what was left. I hadn’t even gotten to the bottom yet, and it was already cascading down my fingers. Just like he said, it was about to hit my clothes, so I hurriedly flipped the cone upside down.
I couldn’t throw it away—I wasn’t done. But if I tried to eat it, it was a one-bite situation, and it was way too big. Caught between options, I was dithering when he came back.
“Give it.”
He sat, snatched the ice cream out of my hand, casually finished the last mouthful himself, and flicked the stick into the trash bin under the table. I gaped, eyes round.
What—what did you just eat?
“Wait… Mr. Cha Gweonwoo, what did you just…”
This was more shocking than when I went ice-fishing as a kid, shivered for three hours in midwinter to catch one smelt, and my dad released it.
“That was mine—I was eating that…”
“You can’t just throw it away. Give me your hand.”
“But still, how could you—”
While I babbled, stupefied, he was already wiping my hand with a packet of wet wipes he’d bought. He grinned.
“We even kissed yesterday, so what.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake!
I was so startled my eyeballs nearly popped out and rolled across the table. My voice spiked without me meaning to.
“Why are you bringing that up—! And when did we ever do that!”
He just stared, bold as brass, like how do you not remember this?
“Guide Kim Doweon kissed me twice yesterday…”
“No!”
What are you saying! I slapped my palm over his lips. Please, for the love of God, stop saying random things with that mouth!
“That wasn’t— that was guiding! You were struggling, so I fulfilled my professional duty out of obligation—!”
“Oh. So you’re going to back out after stealing my lips?”
He cradled my hand gently and threw that at me, all mischief. My jaw dropped. I pull someone out of the water and save their life with CPR, and they turn around and accuse me of kissing them? Ungrateful bastard!
“I’m not backing out— I never even stepped in!”
“You told me over and over not to forget, to make sure I remember—and now you’re going to play dumb?”
“No! I said remember it because I was forced to do mucosal guiding! My original esper practically shudders at mucosal guiding!”
I jerked my hand out of his.
I told him not to forget, and this is how he remembers?
At this rate, if Cha Gweonwoo’s memory comes back, I’m going to die and no one will ever find the body. Actually, before his memory returns, I might just drown myself in a saucer of water.
He just stared at me, blank, while my bluster deflated. I scrubbed the leftover damp from my fingers with the wipe, for lack of anything to do.
The silence between us got awkward. After a long moment, he finally spoke.
“I don’t like the phrase ‘my original esper.’”
A cold tone I’d never heard before snapped my eyes up to him. He looked… peeved.
I just stared, unable to make sense of him, and he tugged one corner of his mouth into a crooked smile. His features sharpened.
“I don’t know what kind of bastard your original esper is.”
“……”
“But the current esper of Guide Kim Doweon would love mucosal guiding, so please do it often from now on.”
Huh?
My mouth hung open, utterly dumbfounded.
What the hell is he even saying?
I know espers and guides can form a special bond, even develop an abnormal sort of possessiveness—but the premise is wrong. “Original my esper” or “current my esper,” they’re both the same Cha Gweonwoo.
“I’m upset.”
He tossed it out, surly, lips jutting forward. Both cheeks puffed. Anyone could tell he was sulking.
What even is this situation?
“Upset about what?”
“Don’t call anyone but me your esper.”
His lips clicked shut.
I was as flustered as when my kid cousin used to bawl and insist I call myself noona instead of hyung, and “say I’m a princess, say it!” That same cousin, Seunghak—who got me to say with my own mouth, “Fine, fine. I’ll chop off my dick,” and just started high school this year. Seunghak, you doing okay? There’s someone just like you sitting in front of me now.
Maybe it was the cap. With that glossy forehead showing, his face looked so young.
He must’ve known he was being unreasonable; his cheeks were flushed—the same cheeks that stayed cool even while eating fire a moment ago.
“‘Other’ esper… It’s the same Cha Gweonwoo.”
“I know, but…”
He frowned, grabbed the water bottle on the table, and gulped. Then set it down with a thud.
“I can’t do that.”
Can’t do what, exactly?
While I was marveling at how red his ears were getting, my summoner gave a short buzz. Bzzzt—. It said my esper’s heart was about to blow.
Usually I keep alerts like heart rate and blood pressure off, but after yesterday I’d switched everything on—so here we were, pinging again the very next day.
“Mr. Cha Gweonwoo. Deep breaths.”
I kept my voice even, and his shoulders flinched.
“That triggers an alert too?”
“If your heart’s pounding this much, yes. Do you have arrhythmia?”
His heart rate had blown past 120 and was pushing 130. What amazed me was how he could keep that poker face through it.
He asked if he could see that too—said he wanted to know my heart rate. I shook my head firmly. Of course espers don’t get features like that on their summoners. What would an esper even do with a guide’s heart rate?
Still, he was so curious that I showed him mine, and he reeled for a different reason.
“Are you sure you’re not dead?”
My heart rate was 78. Barring unusual circumstances, I’m always around there. I straightened my slightly askew summoner and shrugged.
“You could say… kind of.”