#14 Lilium Casablanca (4)
Yujin's best friend Seohyun had shown up out of the blue, sparking immense interest in Yuchan. From his perspective, Yujin was the main dish. She was like fresh ingredients yet to be prepared, but when cooked to his exact recipe, a lone plate would feel disappointingly sparse. Seohyun was the perfect garnish and sauce to pair with Yujin—perhaps even the seasoning to make her utterly delectable.
Creating forced connections went against his principles, so he'd decided to observe a bit longer. Right after first laying eyes on her the day before, he'd started digging into her background. A quick search revealed she was something of a celebrity in the fashion world—a promising rookie making waves. That only whetted his appetite further. And now, here she was, walking right into his gym of her own accord, just before he headed to work in the morning.
From the moment they sat face-to-face, Yuchan half-heartedly chatted while scrutinizing her Black Box. He was certain: conversing while arbitrarily interpreting the Black Box was far more effective for counseling—and building rapport—than fixating on the words themselves. In their first encounter, he'd already pieced together Seohyun's relationship with Yujin.
Her symbol was a cosmos flower in a transparent glass bottle. Not just any cosmos—it was grafted onto a phlox stem, branching out from the middle. When a Black Box manifested as a plant with grafting, it could mean one of two things: first, an obsessive fixation on a specific person; second, deriving one's sense of self from someone else rather than within. The cosmos stem in the bottle had no roots at its tip. She seemed haughty and proud, but peel back the layers, and her self-assurance was just as fragile—cloaked in clumsy bravado, like the see-through glass hiding nothing.
Normally, he'd have to work to identify the object of her grafting, but this time it was straightforward. Phlox was Yujin's Black Box symbol. Seohyun idolized her, copying Yujin to fill her own deficiencies. It was odd that a rising fashion model like Seohyun would use Yujin as her ego supplement, but her flower's color provided the answer: green cosmos. A Black Box's color typically reflected recent emotions, but when fully integrated into the symbol, it carried its own meaning. Green cosmos symbolized homosexuality. Seohyun loved Yujin romantically and sought to fill her voids through her.
If eyes were the windows to the soul, words were the balcony doors. A single conversation revealed a person's mindset far more accurately than their gaze. Even in this ambiguous counseling format, Seohyun was primed to dissect this man named Yuchan.
They settled at a Starbucks open since morning—why were there so many cafes crammed into this tiny country?—and Seohyun personally served an Americano and cafe mocha. Since this was technically free counseling, she covered the coffee bill.
"Thanks, I'll enjoy it."
They'd agreed to drop formalities on the walk over, so Yuchan took the cup naturally.
"I'm the one grateful you made time for me. I never dreamed you'd actually agree."
She said that, but Seohyun had been pretty since childhood, inured to men's excessive kindness—men's instinct to pursue superior beauty for better genes. He understood that. Still, if he fawned openly over her looks, Yuchan planned to dock points accordingly.
"It's not the kind of request you make to a stranger anyway."
He'd expected her to play nice, but she pushed back, leaving Seohyun flustered. Had she overplayed her hand? He wasn't calling her out for a private chat because he liked her, was he?
"But if you're asking a total stranger, it must be something important bothering you."
She laid out agreeable words. Seohyun, who'd navigated society young, knew how barren the world was. Men with honeyed "truths" sought her favor; friendly colleagues hid bloodshot jealousy. Her hard-won caution made her cynical in spots. Let's see when that mask slips.
"It's not that big a deal, really..."
"Big or small—everyone's priorities and situations differ."
His tone eased her burdens naturally. Seohyun was surprised; despite his impression, he showed delicate consideration. Professional finesse shone through. She suspected his bravado—"I'll strip away your mask!"—stemmed from petty jealousy. A few exchanges confirmed it. Not wanting to seem like a time-waster, she opened up about her recent worries.
"I'm actually a fashion model."
"Yeah, I know. I read it. 'Fit Femme,' right?"
Fit Life wasn't just an online mall; it published monthly magazines and chased trends.
"How'd you know?"
Seohyun's eyes widened like saucers. The magazine's name hinted at it, but it targeted women. Why would a guy seek it out...? A fan? That explained his ready agreement to counsel her.
"I'm a print addict—read all sorts of mags. Sorry for interrupting; go on?"
Print addict? Novel term, but no lie in his voice. She'd heard hosts read women's mags to keep up with clients. Did he have a flashy past like that? She shot him a skeptical glance. But as their talk progressed, her forced wariness melted away. As Yujin boasted, he was an excellent counselor. He bridged her words with subtle responses, predicting and gently linking hesitations. It felt like a soothing massage. Who else besides Yujin made conversation this easy?
"Lately, I don't know what my dream is anymore. I started because I loved clothes... but somewhere along the way, modeling turned from dream to means."
She hadn't planned to vent this deeply, but his demeanor infused emotion into her words. Her thoughts shifted: not who is this guy? but what answer would Yuchan give?
"Seohyun, you're the same age as Yujin, right?"
She'd grown used to his coaxing tone—like receiving guidance, not counseling.
"Just twenty? You've carved your name in a field through your own efforts."
"True."
"Chasing dreams so young might make the world feel too narrow, no?"
"What do you mean?"
His words resonated deeply. Her anxiety stemmed purely from rootlessness—no firm purpose. No matter her efforts, she couldn't fully trust herself. Born that way, she'd always feel emptiness and wandering. Telling her not to chase goals granted mental breathing room—a pardon to embrace her denied self.
"I hate sounding like an old fogey, but life is forging your path through a vast reed field. Wander without a destination, lag sometimes, but press on—the road you'll make will be wider than anyone's."
Something hot sank in Seohyun's gut at his words.
"So don't rush. Stroll with leisure. This world is your reed field."
Her vision blurred. Someone had tugged the wandering thread of her heart, like a stray weed.
"...."
She never imagined crying before a stranger. Seohyun pressed her reddened eyes, head bowed for minutes.
Yuchan waited for her fervor to subside, then downed the rest of his coffee. A satisfying demonstration from Yujin's crush-worthy bestie.
"You okay?"
He feigned concern. Teasing Black Box-inferred weak spots like this overloaded emotions in most people. Securing absolute trust and respect with a flick of the tongue was counseling cheat-mode. If sincere about treating depression, he could've saved thousands from suicide—a legendary healer. Regrettably, Yuchan preferred killing.
Defending her pride to the end, Seohyun wiped her tears and cleared her throat nonchalantly, eyes bloodshot.
"That was really moving. Thank you—it helped a ton. Seriously."
"Glad I could help."
She aimed for calm, but joy or relief trembled her voice. At last, she conceded: if he was this good, he could have Yujin. Heart-wrenching decision, but no better man lurked in her circle.
"Yuchan."
Her tangled thoughts spilled from her mouth first.
"Yeah?"
"Um, do you counsel Yujin often?"
Might as well relay info to Yujin. More talk might reveal his feelings for her.
"Mm~ Pretty often. But if you're fishing for details, heads-up: client confidentiality is a counselor's must."
Iron wall. Yuchan tidied up as Seohyun pouted. Already 11 a.m. He'd told the director he'd be late—no issue, but work awaited. As he offered final goodbyes to end the session, Seohyun spoke first.
"Wait!"
"Yeah?"
"If it's okay, could I get your number? Next time, I'll pay—fee or whatever."
First time Seohyun had ever asked for a guy's number. After he'd scratched her itch so well, it was natural to lean on him. Right on plan, Yuchan handed over his card gladly and headed to the academy.
Arriving, it was already lunchtime. Yuchan returned scattered student greetings en route to the counseling room. Nayae stood before it like a wallflower decoration. Her usual plain black pants and hoodie. Her anxious wait for someone brightened at his sight.
He'd instructed maintaining distance at the academy, so she greeted politely and headed for the emergency stairs. Normally locked and student-free, he'd left it open for their secret trysts. Nayae glanced back briefly, flicking her eyes at him.
Even at lunch, some ate packed bentos, others hadn't left yet. Heading together might draw eyes, so he'd pack up, pretend a five-minute smoke break, and follow. Counseling Seohyun had stirred impudent fantasies, leaving his groin taut. Succeeding in installing an on-site sex toilet rivaled adding the coffee machine—pure satisfaction. Timing five minutes, Yuchan ascended leisurely.