I couldn't stay in the house.
I needed neutral ground.
I found myself back at Yeonnam-dong Book & Comics. It was quieter tonight. I grabbed a random fantasy manhwa and ducked into the aisle, seeking solitude.
I didn't find it.
Sitting on a small step-stool in the Action/Fantasy section, engrossed in a volume of One Piece, was the short girl from before. Kim Yu-jin.
She looked different. She wasn't wearing her uniform. She was in an oversized grey hoodie and sweatpants, and—this was new—she was wearing round, wire-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look huge.
I tried to back away slowly, but the floorboards creaked.
She looked up. Her eyes narrowed behind the lenses.
"Oh," she said, closing her book. "It's the slipper guy. The ahjussi."
"I am seventeen," I corrected automatically, sliding past her to grab a book. "And my name is not 'slipper guy'."
"Then what is it?" she asked, tilting her head. "You never told me. You just ran away."
"It's..." I paused.
I couldn't say "San."
My inner K-drama character kicked in.
I needed a fake name. A cool one.
My eyes darted around the shop for inspiration. I saw a poster of a samurai. Too dramatic. I saw a mop. No.
I saw a wrapper of a half-eaten snack on the table next to her. It was a package of instant dumplings.
"Man-du," I blurted out, "Kim Man-du."
Yu-jin stared at me. Silence stretched for three seconds.
"Man-du?" she repeated. "Like... the dumpling?"
She snorted. Then she giggled. Then she was full-on laughing, clutching her stomach.
"Your name is Dumpling? Did your parents hate you? Or were they just really hungry?"
"It is not 'Dumpling'!" I said quickly, my face heating up. I raised a finger, improvising wildly. "It is deep philosophy. It is Hanja characters."
"Oh really?" she grinned, wiping her eyes. "Please, teach me, Man-du-ssi."
"It is... Man," I said, making a grand gesture, "meaning 'Ten Thousand'. And Du... meaning 'Head' or 'Top'. It means... 'One Who Is Above Ten Thousand People'. A leader. A king."
"Sure," she smirked. "It definitely doesn't mean 'pork and chives'. Whatever you say, Man-du."
She stood up, stretching her arms. She checked her phone. "Well, King Dumpling, I have to go. My mom is expecting me."
"Are you taking the bus?" I asked.
"No. I live close. I'll walk."
She started heading for the door. I looked outside. It was fully dark now. The streetlights in this area were dim, and the alleys were narrow.
"Wait," I said, putting my book back. "I'm leaving too. I'll walk you."
"Ooh," she teased, adjusting her glasses. "Chivalry? Or are you just hoping I'll buy you a dumpling?"
"I am hoping you won't get kidnapped so I don't have to talk to the police," I grumbled, pushing the door open for her.
We walked into the cool night air. She led the way, humming a tune I didn't recognize.
"So," she said, pointing to her chest. "I go to Hanyeong Arts High. You know it?"
I paused.
Min-ah had mentioned it.
Hanyeong was Kirin's sworn enemy.
They were the "traditional rivals."
"I've heard of it," I said carefully. "They say the students there are... intense."
"We're better," she corrected. She eyed me sideways. "So, can we be counted as friends now? Since you walked me home?"
"Acquaintances," I corrected. "Book... colleagues."
" tough crowd," she laughed. "Come on. Tell me. What school do you go to? Or are you really a university student who failed his entrance exams?"
"I told you, I'm seventeen."
"Then why the secrets? Are you a spy? Are you from North Korea?"
"I am from Ukraine," I sighed. "And my school is... sensitive information."
"Sensitive? What, do you go to a spy school for flower boys?"
Before I could retort, a car honked softly behind us. A sleek white SUV slowed down and pulled up to the curb next to us. The window rolled down.
"Yu-jin-ah?"
A woman looked out. She looked incredibly young to be Yu-jin's mom—stylish, with a sharp bob cut and kind eyes.
"Omma!" Yu-jin waved.
The woman looked at me. Her gaze was evaluating but friendly.
"Who is this?" she asked, smiling. "A boyfriend?"
"No!" Yu-jin rolled her eyes. "This is... my friend. From the comic store." She grinned at me wickedly. "His name is KimMan-du."
The mom blinked. She bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh.
"Man-du-ssi? Ah. Nice to meet you. Thank you for walking Yu-jin home. It's late."
"It is my pleasure, ma'am," I said, bowing formally. "It was on my way."
"Where do you live?" the mom asked. "Can we give you a ride?"
"Oh, no, no," I waved my hands frantically. If they drove me to the Lee mansion, the "poor student" cover would be blown. "I live... far. I have to take a taxi anyway."
"Nonsense," the mom said. She looked around. A taxi was just turning the corner.
She raised her hand, her gold bracelets jingling, and flagged it down with the authority of a queen. The taxi stopped.
"Get in," she insisted. She reached into her purse and pulled out two crisp 10,000 won bills. She shoved them into my hand before I could protest.
"Take this. Go home safely. Thank you for protecting my daughter."
"Ma'am, I really can't accept—"
"Take it!" Yu-jin ordered, pushing me toward the taxi. "Don't be rude to an adult, Man-du!"
I had no choice. I bowed again, clutching the money. "Thank you."
I got into the taxi. "Goodbye, Yu-jin. Goodbye, Ma'am."
"Bye, Dumpling!" Yu-jin waved as the taxi pulled away.
As I looked back through the rear window, I saw the mom link arms with Yu-jin and start walking toward a nearby apartment complex.
I couldn't hear them, but I could imagine the conversation. The mom leaned in, a teasing smile on her face.
"Yu-jin-ah," she likely said. "Did I interrupt something? Were you on a date?"
I saw Yu-jin throw her head back and yell, "OMMA!"
I smiled, leaning back in the seat.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
I told him the adress.
The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror—at my casual clothes, the crumpled bills in my hand, and my messy hair.
"Whatever you say, kid," he grunted.