Does Love Need a Reason?
Hmm.
I silenced the Discord notifications and slipped my phone into my pocket.
The man really did worry about the most useless things. I wasn't a preschooler. What was there to be so afraid of? He was carrying on like the sky might fall. Female or not, I hadn't even been streaming that long — as if some rabid fan would already be glued to me.
I'd been the one to request the meeting in the first place, though I hadn't expected it to come together this fast. One refresh, maybe. The replies had been instant, the answers immediate. It felt less like exchanging emails and more like texting.
Someone like that would surely handle work just as promptly.
Still, there was one thing I could never accept. This was someone I might end up working with. Back when I was a mercenary, knowing the identities of the people you moved with hadn't been optional — it had been mandatory. Ability aside, you simply couldn't work alongside someone whose face you didn't even know. Going out was a hassle, but I couldn't set that aside. Trust, at the very least, was something you built looking someone in the eye.
It had been an impulsive choice, but that was fine. Sooner or later, if I was going to hire an editor, a meeting would have been necessary. I didn't have it in me to stream and then stay up all night fumbling through editing I barely understood.
Both of us living in Seoul was a genuine stroke of luck. No need to pin down some vague, far-off date.
The other party had agreed to everything I suggested, so the appointment came together in no time. And that was how I ended up making my first proper outing in a long while. Considering my most recent trip outside had been a thirty-minute walk I counted as exercise, it really had been a while since I'd gone anywhere with an actual destination.
I'd picked a café in a busy shopping district — the kind that popped up the moment you searched it. Close enough to the subway that finding it wasn't hard.
The place had a fairly calm atmosphere. It had looked small from the entrance, but once I stepped inside I found a second floor and a surprising number of tables. Choosing that awkward stretch of a weekday afternoon seemed to have paid off. For a café people claimed was crowded even on weekdays, it was quiet.
Unlike the bustling street outside, the hush indoors had a charm of its own. Whether by design or not, something old-fashioned was playing — pop with a vintage grain that sat well with the soft lighting. It left an impression.
I ordered a coffee without much thought and claimed a seat by the window, looking out on the main road. I'd arrived earlier than expected, so there was time to kill before the appointment. Fiddling with the cup, glancing at the clock on my phone — that was when the unease of meeting a stranger finally crept in. This wait was going to be uncomfortable.
I was knocking back the iced coffee in big swallows, running simulations of an awkward first meeting, when it occurred to me that sitting still and waiting to be found was a little strange. Even if I looked exactly like my character in Last of Quantum, the other person didn't know that.
I should at least send a text.
Bzzzt—
...Why is the response this fast?
The speed was enough to remind me of a certain someone.
It was still ten minutes before the appointed time. The café door hadn't just opened, which meant they'd arrived early and been waiting. The type who showed up ahead of schedule, then.
I turned my head and checked the room. There weren't many customers. One of the people already here, then. Which one?
Sweats and a beige cardigan. I looked around for the person wearing what I'd described — no. I'd told them what I was wearing. They were the one who would come find me. Sitting in a corner, they'd said... maybe that one. The phone in their hand made it look right.
Perhaps they felt my gaze. The woman sitting there met my eyes.
A wooden chair scraped across the floor. The woman I'd locked eyes with stood and walked toward me.
She was tall, and slender. I wasn't short myself, and I still registered her as tall — she had to clear five-seven without trying. The hair at her nape was neatly gathered, but her bangs were long enough to veil her eyes, so you couldn't quite tell where she was looking.
The heavy dark circles under them made her whole face look even darker. I had circles of my own, but in front of this woman I couldn't even put my name in the running.
A sharp gaze cut through the bangs that swayed whenever she moved. I could feel her pupils boring into me through the hair.
Jump's messages flashed through my head uninvited.
D-don't make a fuss.
If it came to it, I could handle one woman on my own. Her arms and legs, stretched as thin as her height, were far too slight. Gaunt was a better word than slim. In a contest of strength, I'd probably win.
My worries were my own. The woman sat down across from me without ceremony, dropping into the empty seat as if it had always been hers.
A greeting first. That was basic courtesy — the start of any decent human relationship.
"Hello. I'm Lee Harin. I use the name Unknown on stream."
I'd introduced myself. Now it was her turn.
...Or so I thought. The woman across from me kept her mouth shut and simply stared.
Meeting those eyes was a burden. What even were they? The pupils were strangely slit, vertical, close enough to a reptile to be unsettling. Frightening eyes. I couldn't tell if they belonged to a person or a snake.
"You look exactly the same as you do in the game, Unknown."
"Sorry? Ah... yes."
Avatar customization, then. I hadn't touched any of it, so of course I looked the same as I did in real life.
"So, your name is—"
A sly little touch. At some point she'd started fiddling with my hand where it rested on the table. I gave it a light shake, a refusal, and she latched back on like a leech.
What is she doing right now.
"Ah, my name? I'm Kang Ah-yoon. I'm twenty-seven."
Another sly little touch.
Damn it.
She had a bizarre sense of other people's space. I was making my discomfort obvious, and she kept playing with my hand anyway. She even stretched her arm toward me, until the table between us felt far too close.
Was this something you did to a person you'd met only a few minutes ago?
"Should I call you Ah-yoon, then?"
"Ah. Yes."
"First... your hand."
"Ah—. Was that uncomfortable? I'm sorry. Your hands are just so pretty."
"No. It's not that. It was just very sudden."
"Ah..."
I thought I heard her mutter, very softly, Then can I touch them if I give you a heads-up? — and decided to ignore it. If I answered every little thing like that, we wouldn't get to the point if we sat here for hours.
"Would you mind telling me what made you start a fan channel?"
Even after the question, the woman said nothing. Either she was the careful type, or she was simply unusually slow to answer.
Every time I opened my mouth, that persistent gaze drilled through my face. She would look at me when she heard a question, then speak a few seconds later. A taciturn person was still better than someone who wouldn't shut up.
Given her age, maybe she was job-hunting. Or she'd already left a workplace once or twice. Whatever job she'd had was probably related to video editing. That would explain the speed and the quality.
Looked at another way, this could be a kind of job interview from her side as well. I shouldn't treat it lightly either.
That was what I thought. It didn't last long.
My assumptions twisted in real time.
What the hell is that supposed to mean.