The Gap
There were no legal issues whatsoever with the video that Da-yeon had uploaded. That was because, back when I first streamed World of Arceria, video sharing had been fully permitted.
Still, I couldn't deny the guilt gnawing at me for leeching views off someone else's clip without even asking permission.
"Well..."
"I'm just messing with you. I forgive you since you gave me candy."
I flashed a smile. Thanks to that, even more people had shown up to my stream anyway.
"What? You stream too, kiddo?"
"Whoa, what what! Let's check it out quick! What's your channel name? Can we find it on VTube?"
"Wait, you're NoName...?"
"Who's NoName? Some famous kid?"
"You don't know NoName?"
One of the four guys turned pale, just like Da-yeon. He didn't recognize my main avatar, but he was a viewer who knew my exploits in World of Arceria all too well.
Meanwhile, Heejin just stood there, utterly baffled.
"What's going on? Is there something else I don't know about?"
Knock knock.
Two sharp knocks cut through the noisy room. The lab fell silent in an instant as Professor Cheon peeked in and beckoned.
"Nami, grab your stuff and come out, would you?"
I hurriedly packed up and offered a farewell.
"Don't go blabbing about my age anywhere. It's still a secret for now."
I'd figured that if I kept messing up on purpose, they'd throw something harder my way, but nope—they must've underestimated me. My mental math's always been quick; back when I worked at the Magic Tower, I'd pull off these calculation shows now and then. Already feels like ancient history.
And my age... I'll have to reveal it eventually, but that brought up a laundry list of problems. First off, explaining the past seven years of my life. Not sure if it'd be an "explanation" or a full-on exposé.
If I was gonna do it, best to drop it when everyone's attention was maxed out. Even if it was huge news, reactions here in Korea could fizzle fast—this country's full of sensational headlines that bury everything else. I might just be a blip, forgotten in a month or two. No way I wanted to muster the courage for a big reveal, only to end up as some forgettable case study.
Some call it Koreans' "frying pan grit"—short-lived passion—but I saw it differently. Tragic murders, car crashes... they kept happening relentlessly, not just here but worldwide, even into the 2050s. People were exhausted; they had no choice but to let go.
Timing the reveal perfectly... before I knew it, we'd reached the meeting room. Professor Cheon and a Korean guy about his age stood up.
"Hi there, missy! Name's Robert Kim. Nice to meet ya."
Correction: his accent screamed pure American. I shook his hand and sat beside Professor Cheon, resting my arms on the cool glass tabletop. My feet dangled off the floor in the chair—still not used to it.
"Did the kids play nice?"
"Play nice? I was the one entertaining them."
"Hahaha, they're even more hopeless than you, Nami. Anyway, this is my buddy Robert Kim. Robert, this is my daughter, Nami."
"Translation magic feels too impersonal, so I'll give Korean a shot, even if it's rough. Nice to meet you again."
"Same here."
The jolly, pot-bellied uncle beamed. They'd wrapped up the chit-chat on the way over—no drawn-out intros.
"Not much to it, really. Your dad—er, Kyujin Chan—said his little girl was real sick, so I came to check if he was pulling my leg. Solid potions aren't even commercialized yet, but he hounded me all the way from New Jersey!"
"Is that so?"
"More like, I couldn't believe Kyujin had a daughter! We rock-paper-scissored four times straight—I won the Korea trip!"
He recounted the Stateside tale in his shaky Korean.
"Tch! Now that you've met her, we're good, right? I'll attach the paperwork when you head out."
"Hey, don't be mean! I flew hours for this..."
After some back-and-forth with Professor Cheon, Robert finally surrendered and headed out.
"Must be nice having such a really cute daughter, huh, Kyujin?"
"Go nag your own son for grandkids."
"Ha! Jason declared himself DINK—no easy feat."
"Tough break."
"Alright, Nami, Uncle's off! Bye-bye! Oh, here's a gift—sweet stuff, since you like that."
We waved him off until his taxi vanished.
"Friend from Johnson & Johnson. Looks the part, but the guy's a genius."
Professor Cheon muttered. Yeah, he did—rocking the baggy plaid shirt, engineering's uniform. The real deal.
"Any aches? Heart acting up?"
"Nah, honestly, without a doctor's say-so, I wouldn't even know I was sick."
"Still, tell me pronto if anything's off. And the pharma folks say good news on EDMD treatments soon."
"That's great."
"Yep, they've been researching it for years. You'll beat it completely."
His words rang hopeful, but worry lingered in his eyes. Makes sense—heart failure's the top killer in muscular dystrophy. Once it hits, it's pretty much game over.
Robert's gift? Ferrero Rocher chocolates. Professor Cheon showed me a small vial of black pills next.
"Sample solid potion. Whaddya think?"
"Wait, I have to swallow that?"
"You could chew it, but then what's the point over liquid?"
It dwarfed even mega omega-3s. One wrong gulp, and it'd choke me.
"Gimme one, then."
I pulled out my tumbler from my bag, eyeing the pill and water. A fishy tang wafted up—better swallow fast.
Glug!
Gulp.
Fuck. This is why I stick to chocolate.
Way better than liquid, but even that tongue-touch zinged my brain. I chased it with water, feeling the pill scrape my throat unpleasantly. Ferrero Rocher finally soothed my tongue, letting rational thought return.
"Intensely unpleasant."
"But just three times a day."
"Three times... huge progress."
No more constant bathroom runs, at least.
"I'll drive you home—parking lot's that way."
"I can walk."
"Shower coming soon, no umbrella? Car's quicker—hop in."
Shower in this weather? Distant clouds looked mild. But Professor Cheon seemed bored, so I slid into shotgun without protest.
"Research year, and you're clocking in too hard."
"Skip tomorrow and hit an amusement park with Nami?"
"Nah, you know I hate walking."
Low energy meant lying down felt safest, happiest.
"Movie, then?"
"Movie's fine."
"Sweet! Date with Nami tomorrow—clearing my whole schedule!"
"Academy too? Midterms soon?"
"You love it, right?"
"Obviously."
Liking academy friends wasn't the same as liking academy. Humans crave routine breaks. Skipping a day or two from daily grind? Refreshing.
Sorry, Yuna—treat you later.
The clogged road ahead cleared up. Rain pelted the windshield.
Real shower. Sun hid behind black clouds; the backdrop turned gloomy fast. All-day rain tomorrow—Adella date postponed.
"Professor?"
"Hm?"
"How long have you known Robert?"
"Robert? Lemme see... 'bout 25 years?"
"Lifetime friends."
"Haha, yeah."
"Secret to bonds like that?"
Robert mentioned Professor Cheon's U.S. network. Decades of steady contact—what's that feel like? Envy bubbled up.
"Dunno... No lies, maybe? Tops the list."
Lies.
"Kinda don't get it. Hiding stuff right keeps things comfy."
Exposing flaws meant vulnerability. Equality's key for friends; imbalance risks collapse.
"Not ancient myself, but 50+ years taught me: folks hiding stuff seem intriguing at first, but gaps form eventually."
"Then what?"
"Decide. Maintain with the gap? Or risk drift and close it? Not universal—10 billion people, infinite bonds."
Back to square one. Makes sense—no one logic fits all.
What logic fits me and academy friends? Viewers? Professor Cheon?
Silence fell; a warm smile touched his lips.
"Someday, I'd love if we could drop pretenses too."
He never pried or demanded. Just being there helped sometimes. All parents like that for kids? No clue.
Professor, ever wonder about my pre-orphanage days?
I almost tested the gap, lips parting—but boom!
"Whew, rain stops and thunder cracks dry skies. Korea's weather ain't what it used to be."
Bad timing shut me up.
"Nami, think I heard your phone—thunder drown it?"
"I'll check."
Rare for my phone to buzz.
Fuck.
Not yet. Not yet.
"Nothing big."
"Oh? Spam still a thing?"
"Professor... anyway, mind if I join a tournament?"
"Tournament? What kind?"
"Gaming one."
Time to blow it up big.