Carrying Out the Plan

My heart kept thumping as I hauled the bin of coffee beans in from the storeroom beside the kitchen and soaked the folded dishcloths ahead of time, so they'd be ready.

Yeah? Feels like I'm shaking worse than I was then.

I didn't forget to check that the First Experience Helper was still safe in my pocket, and I ran through the week I'd spent preparing for today one more time in my head.

How many minutes into the shift was it? The bell chimed, the café door opened, and a college girl in a face mask stepped inside. The moment I confirmed it was Kim Yuna, I tugged my baseball cap down even lower.

Face stays hidden until the hypnosis takes.

The manager, midway through grinding a batch of beans, spotted Kim ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yuna at the counter and called out a greeting.

"Oh — when did you get here? Welcome. Iced americano again today?"

"Yes. Hehe, I'll leave it to you."

Yuna dropped two slices of bread into the toaster and pulled her smartphone from her pocket. The grinder whined on as I locked the portafilter into the machine and pulled a shot — and my other hand was already moving in secret. From my pocket I drew the little packet printed with a mask like the Joker's. The needle, of course, was fixed safely to the packet with a strip of clear tape. I couldn't afford a mistake like last time. Not today.

Nobody's good at it from the start. That's a truth the army beat into me. Survive the first time without dying of nerves, and the second time's easy.

Maybe it was all the image training. Far from tense, the motions seated themselves neatly in my hands, and I felt as if I'd put myself through some kind of mental discipline. Soon the shot finished extracting, and the espresso was done, hot vapor rising off it.

This is the real part.

I pricked the tip of my finger with the needle. A bead of blood welled up, and I smeared it across the Joker's face.

This is how you activate it, right?

From the spot the blood had touched, the mask began to flush red, like paint bleeding through paper. Then, as if by magic, a blue screen floated up in the empty air. A new screen. It had been a while.

Just in case, I flicked my eyes toward the manager.

I'm watching him so he doesn't catch me putting the powder in.

Yuna and the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠manager were deep in small talk at the register, settling the bill. With a soft hiss I shook the powder into the iced cup and covered it with the hot espresso. The shot, crowned with golden crema, mixed with the powder and sank away into the ice water.

Feels like I'm cutting drugs. Weird mood.

…There it goes, singing hymns just because it made the stuff.

The special americano was nearly finished. The moment the powder vanished without a trace, I handed the drink to the manager. The die was cast.

"Drink's ready~"

The manager passed my special americano to Kim Yuna, who was still standing by the toaster.

"Thank youuu."

She took the coffee in both hands, finished spreading jam on her toast, and headed deeper into the café.

Look at her, grinning like that, with no idea what she's holding.

Now it was time to enjoy the art of waiting. I stared blankly at Yuna's back, then turned to the manager and, with the resolve of someone spending a lifetime's worth of acting talent all at once, put on a troubled face.

"Um… Manager. Something's come up today. I think I need to head out now."

"Huh…? You're leaving now?"

He checked his wristwatch.

"You haven't even been clocked in ten minutes."

"It's… really urgent. I'm sorry. All I'm doing is causing you trouble."

"…Fine. Can't be helped, if something came up. Wait a second. Today's your last day, isn't it?"

"Yes. From tomorrow on, I'm going to focus entirely on studying to be a barista."

"Hm. Hold on."

He slipped into the storeroom at a quick step. I took off my apron, hung it on the wall, drew a long breath, and let it out.

Goodbye to this goddamn coffee stink, too. You put in the work as well, Chio.

Then the manager came shuffling out of the storeroom with some navy coat bundled in his arms. He gave me a quick once-over, rummaged in the coat pocket, and drew something out. He didn't say a word.

What the hell is that white envelope.

"It's your last day. You're just going to leave like this?"

"Sorry?"

"Take it, kid."

No way. Is it what I think it is?

"I figured your weekly pay at fifteen thousand won an hour and set it aside. Think of it as pocket money and take it."

I couldn't get a word out. I clenched my fist, opened it, hesitated. Honestly, my conscience twinged. I hadn't even worked that hard… and I was a little moved, too.

If you're gonna be that handsome, don't be nice on top of it…

"Hurry up. My arm's about to fall off."

He shook the hand holding the envelope. I held mine out, awkward.

"You… said this was unpaid, so taking it feels a bit…"

"When a grown-up gives you something, you just take it. Put it toward opening that café, even a little. Not a single late day — good kid. World like this, showing up is the virtue. I think you're gonna make it."

He pressed the envelope into my two awkwardly offered hands. I gripped it tight and bowed until my back was at a right angle.

"Thank you."

"Go on. You're not even a formally hired part-timer. Stop watching my mood."

"Yes, sir!"

I left the manager behind and stepped out of the kitchen.

Agreed. I think this is going to stick with me. This place, and him.

I let my eyes travel slowly over the café — the brownies and pastries on display, and last of all Kim Yuna, drawing on her coffee while she scrolled her phone. I fixed her in my sight. That coffee ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had my whole week in it. With a resolute face I pushed the door, and a clear bell rang against my ear.

I reached a walking path well away from the café and waited for Kim Yuna to come out. According to Chio, the Status Window was supposed to appear the moment she finished the drink, but there was still no reaction.

"…Ugh, it's cold. Weather like this, you go to a motel."

It wasn't quite cold enough for my breath to show, but I had to keep my hands in my pockets or they'd sting. I studied the envelope of cash I'd been holding, then tucked it into an inner pocket, and from the other pocket I took out my smartphone.

"I'm counting on you, Samsung."

A latest-model phone. The lump of money I'd piled up — hospital costs and the rest — had grown decent enough that I'd invested in it boldly, for the sake of the future.

Today's MVP. I'm counting on you.

This thing's ridiculous resolution was going to take MVP today. I slipped the phone back into my pocket and locked my eyes on the café in the distance.

Copy.

How many minutes had passed? Through the window I saw Kim Yuna rise from her chair. At last, the blue screen I'd been waiting for floated up before my eyes.

Three minutes… So what am I supposed to do? Just wait?

So I have to follow her around for three minutes? And after that, she does what I say. Okay. Got it, loud and clear.

Yuna opened the café door, eyes nailed to her phone, and walked toward the bus stop. I came down off the path and fell in behind her.

No way… the bus isn't going to show up before those three minutes are up, right…

I sat down beside her as naturally as I could. As it happened, the stop held only the two of us. I closed my eyes for a moment and leaned my back against the wall.

Wonder how the hypnosis is going to go in.

Chio, you said you disappear after my first time, right? Do you really have to go? I've gotten attached. You're like a help menu.

You're not vanishing the second it's over, are you. Stick around a little longer.

A familiar voice came over the speaker.

My heart dropped.

…Isn't that the bus Yuna's about to take?

My head spun fast. What happened if she got on that bus perfectly fine? My ability could be exposed in front of total strangers. I'd been an idiot — failed to think of the most basic thing.

Chio. I think we're fucked.

A solution?

There had to be a reason it was staying this calm. I let out a long breath.

I looked around. Across the crosswalk, a green bus sat stopped. A little over a minute left. No matter how I turned it over, I had nothing. All I could do was pray the bus would arrive a little late.

Please, Hypnosis God. Just this once, help me.

I checked the traffic light and the time left on the Status Window again.

Figures. Time only crawls like this when you don't want it to…

The prayer must not have landed, because the light turned green before long. The bus drew in close to the curb and slowly shed its speed. Every single second felt like it was dragging. I let out a long sigh.

Kim Yuna climbed onto the bus as the doors opened.