The Winking Bear Apron

Sh—, what's with the sudden f—ing Fast and Furious sprint? What kind of genre swerves around like this?

With her insides rattling along the sloping road, Baek Yeo-eul squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

"Are you all right?"

By the time she opened her eyes at Kim Yu-ra's question, they were gliding along a peaceful city street. In that brief span of time, it felt as though she'd been teleported.

"Y-yes, yes, yes…"

Baek Yeo-eul replied, her face looking as though her soul had been sucked clean out of it. Something about that seemed to bother Kim Yu-ra, who held out a bottle of water. Baek Yeo-eul accepted it with trembling hands and moistened her parched lips.

Fortunately, the wild driving apparently hadn't been her real skill — the ride that followed was so smooth Baek Yeo-eul couldn't tell whether they were in a car or drifting above the clouds. Only then could she set her unease aside, at least a little. Once she had steadied, Kim Yu-ra retrieved a box from the passenger seat and held it out.

"It's a Watch."

A Watch fed real-time data on its wearer's location and physical condition to the agents in charge. It could also tell at a glance whether the wearer was in a stable phase or a rampage phase — which meant rampages could be caught early, and the damage they caused prevented. Partners could even check on each other's condition through their settings, and the device supported chat, voice, and video calls besides.

"I already have a Watch."

"This is the latest model."

Watches had been around for a long time, but it had been less than ten years since they carried every essential feature they had today. Updates still rolled out about once a year, though not as often as they once had. Each one made things a little more convenient, but since nothing truly necessary was ever added, no small number of people stuck with the older versions. Baek Yeo-eul belonged to that latter camp.

She'd been planning to buy a new one anyway, what with the Watch that had always ridden her wrist having vanished — so this worked out nicely. Baek Yeo-eul promptly tore open the box and flipped the case open.

"Huh? This is…"

It wasn't the newest model on the market. But it wasn't an old version, either.

"Ah, that's a unit scheduled for public release soon. It's passed all of its testing, so you can rest assured. Please, put it on now."

To think an unreleased Watch — the kind people scour the earth for with fire in their eyes — has landed in my lap. Baek Yeo-eul felt, all over again, just how drastically her circumstances had changed from before.

"Wow."

The exclamation escaped her before she could stop it. The moment she pressed the power button, the Watch projected a hologram into the air before her eyes. Baek Yeo-eul was stunned by how quickly the technology was advancing.

Unlike the older versions, which made you enter everything by hand, the AI recited the wearer's particulars all on its own. Baek Yeo-eul, who had decided to register once they reached their destination and she'd had a moment to rest, switched the Watch off again.

The car was cruising along smoothly enough that she considered stealing a nap, but when it came right down to it, sleep wouldn't come. Baek Yeo-eul shifted restlessly, eyes open.

"Do you have any questions, by any chance?"

Kim Yu-ra asked just then. Well, since sleep isn't happening, I might as well ask everything I'm curious about. Baek Yeo-eul straightened up in her seat as she spoke.

"What form will my protection take?"

Like anyone would, Baek Yeo-eul wanted to avoid close protection if she could possibly help it. Picturing someone trotting at her heels everywhere she went, the thought maybe I should bolt surfaced all on its own. Again.

"We are advocating for close protection."

The Guide Protection Center was, naturally, pushing hard for close protection — there was no telling when, where, or how the threat might appear.

"However, Esper Han Yi-hyeon is no ordinary Esper. Unless the anti-government forces mobilize fifty A-rank Espers, there is no way for anyone to approach Guide Baek Yeo-eul while she stands at Esper Han Yi-hyeon's side."

"Then…"

So what does the protection actually look like?

"As Esper Han Yi-hyeon's partner, you will be quite busy. Frankly speaking, you'll be running back and forth between home and the field, so you won't have the spare time to go anywhere else. You'll be attached to Esper Han Yi-hyeon twenty-four hours a day, minus sleeping hours — assigning separate agents would be a waste of time."

"You're saying there'll be no separate protection at all?"

"But we cannot simply entrust everything to Esper Han Yi-hyeon, either. So we plan to station one or two agents nearby, keeping watch in secret."

Baek Yeo-eul relaxed.

Granted, the idea of agents lurking and tailing her wherever she went was a little unnerving, but it beat close protection by a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mile. And to think this was all thanks to Han Yi-hyeon.

No — wait. If it weren't for Han Yi-hyeon in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the first place, I'd never have become a surveillance target under the guise of protection.

She couldn't quite tell whether she owed him thanks or a string of curses.

"What came of the proposal Department Head Seo Joo-hwan relayed to the Director?"

Baek Yeo-eul asked about the most important thing she'd managed to forget until now. Whether Kim Yu-ra knew was anyone's guess — though who could say, perhaps Do Geon had briefed her in advance.

"That proposal was rejected."

It feels like the world is caving in.

"However, he attached a condition."

But the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world doesn't cave in that easily.

"What condition?"

"The reason for the rejection is that Esper Han Yi-hyeon has not yet reached stabilization. Which is to say — once Esper Han Yi-hyeon is stabilized, Guide Baek Yeo-eul is free to refuse field deployment."

In the span of a few seconds, Baek Yeo-eul had shuttled between heaven and hell, and her eyes briefly lost their light.

"…How many times a month is Esper Han Yi-hyeon usually deployed?"

"Going by the data, a maximum of fifteen and a minimum of seven. Ten, on average. And we're budgeting a generous one year until stabilization."

Wow. Maybe I really should bolt.

With Baek Yeo-eul's face gone pale all over again and her mouth pressed firmly shut, silence hung in the car. Kim Yu-ra kept stealing glances at her through the rearview mirror. Her cheeks were so flushed with color it was hard to believe she'd spent half a month in a coma.

Big eyes, clear skin, a delicately tapered oval face — Baek Yeo-eul was, on the whole, prettily made, and yet she seemed entirely unaware that she was a more controversial figure than she realized.

Strangely unperceptive, too. Kim Yu-ra judged coolly.

In any other situation she was quick to read the room, but where Han Yi-hyeon was concerned, her instincts peculiarly failed her. No — it would be more accurate to say she regarded Han Yi-hyeon as a person from an entirely different world. Because she didn't think of him as her equal, not even the stray thought of surely not… could he? ever crossed her mind.

He's in for quite a rough time.

Kim Yu-ra could see the long road of Han Yi-hyeon's suffering laid out before him, clear as day.

Some time passed, and they entered the apartment complex where Han Yi-hyeon lived. Cleaning-company trucks and furniture vans were just then rolling out of the grounds.

"…Esper Han Yi-hyeon lives here?"

Baek Yeo-eul, who had apparently come back to herself at some point, blurted the question out. This was a penthouse famous even by South Korean standards for its staggering price tag. She knew of it because a foreign president visiting Korea some years back had stayed there.

"He keeps a separate official residence. This is something closer to a villa."

Just how much money do S-ranks even make?

Baek Yeo-eul muttered under her breath as she gazed up at the penthouse stretching endlessly skyward. She was so thoroughly spaced out that she only registered the car had stopped after Kim Yu-ra opened the door for her.

Watch box in hand, Baek Yeo-eul stepped out and swallowed dryly at the dazzling spectacle sprawled before her eyes.

"Ms. Baek Yeo-eul, we have been expecting you. Please follow me."

The impeccably turned-out concierge bowed politely at the waist. She had been about to follow without a second thought when Kim Yu-ra stepped in front of Baek Yeo-eul and questioned the concierge.

"How did you know to be waiting here?"

"Mr. Han Yi-hyeon gave us advance word, so we were standing by."

At the mention of Han Yi-hyeon's name, Kim Yu-ra at last eased her guard and took up her post at Baek Yeo-eul's side. And so, with the tension still pulled taut, they boarded the elevator. True to its reputation for a silky ride, it climbed without stopping even once. On and on — literally, on and on.

Come to think of it, where is Han Yi-hyeon?

The thought only occurred to her after they'd all but arrived at Han Yi-hyeon's home. Her conversation with Do Geon had been long, admittedly, but it was nowhere near enough time to catch up on a proper night's sleep.

Judging by what the concierge had said, he seemed to be home.

Just then, the elevator that had been climbing forever came to a halt. The topmost floor. The doors slid open, and a faint scent of wax drifted out. The concierge, having escorted them right to the door, withdrew — and just as Kim Yu-ra reached for the doorbell—

"Ah."

Kim Yu-ra let out a low groan of dismay and rubbed her forehead.

"What do we do? I completely forgot."

"Pardon? Forgot what?"

"Esper Han Yi-hyeon attaches no meaning to a home, so there is not a single piece of furniture inside. Not even a refrigerator."

Kim Yu-ra recalled the times she'd gone to see him in person because he was so impossible to reach. The spacious home, bare of furniture to begin with, had been bleak beyond description. Her last visit had been months ago, but even then the place was no different from years prior — so she'd assumed it would be the same now.

"Until the rooms are properly set up, we should stay in the hotel room on the floor directly below. I'll contact the Director separately—"

Just then, the door swung open and someone appeared.

Han Yi-hyeon — a ladle in one hand, and a frilly apron printed with a cute little winking bear tied around his waist.

"…Esper Han Yi-hyeon?"

Kim Yu-ra called his name, dumbstruck. Of the two of them — Kim Yu-ra and Baek Yeo-eul — not one managed to stay composed. Baek Yeo-eul in particular, having locked eyes with the impishly winking bear's black gaze, felt her pupils quake.

As a none-too-brief silence stretched on, the acrid bite of something burning pricked at their noses.

"Come in."

Perhaps he had caught the smell too. Han Yi-hyeon murmured the words, then vanished faster than light.

"…Could I just use the hotel room instead?"

Her feet refused to carry her forward.

"That is not possible."

Kim Yu-ra answered, her face gone blank.

"What on earth did Esper Han Yi-hyeon do to the inside of that house… Let's go in first."

Even Kim Yu-ra, who at any other time would have been the very picture of icy composure, stepped inside as though spellbound by something, her face frozen in bewilderment — and Baek Yeo-eul, too, had no choice but to follow her in.

Gulp.

Baek Yeo-eul swallowed hard, her face a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠portrait of misery, and stepped through the wide-open door.