***

The next evening, at five to seven, you opened the door to Guardian Towers, and limped into the spacious interior.  It was minimalist, modern, and mostly monochromatic, with the only deviation from the black, cream, and grey colour scheme being the dark, cool brown walnut flooring.  A prim, almost severe looking receptionist sat behind an oversized black granite desk, her hair scraped back into a tight, sleek bun. 

You gave her a polite bow as you approached the desk.

Despite her intimidating appearance, her voice was warm when she stood to bow, asking, “Hello.  How may I help you?”

“I’m here to look at an apartment?”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to see…ah…” you flushed.  “I didn’t ask his name—the ajusshi who owns the building, I suppose.  I called the number on the website?”

She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow. “Ajusshi?  Ah…you must mean Kim Junmyeonsshi.”

“I guess…”

An amused smile played about the corners of her lips.  “He lives in the sub-floor apartment.”  She eyed your leg brace. “I’m sorry, but the only way to get to his apartment is by the stairs.”

“Are there elevators to the other apartments?”

“Yes, the rest of the building is handicapped accessible.”

“Then that’s alright, then.  It’s only temporary, anyway.  I had a bit of a nasty fall two weeks ago, and tore my ACL.”

“That sounds painful,” she said politely.

“Yes, well…”  You self-consciously adjusted your glasses.

A moment passed.

Slowly leaning backwards, she passed her badge over a card reader, and a red light beside a door to the right turned green with a click.  “Please go see Kim Junmyeonsshi, now.”

“Ah…yes…” you said awkwardly, returning her courteous bow, before making your way downstairs.

Motion sensor lights flickered to life as you descended, illuminating the dark stairwell with a warm, almost fire-like light.  Approaching the oversized black enamel door, you rang the bell, faced the camera and waited. 

A quiet buzz.

“Agasshi?”

“Yes… Kim…Junmyeonsshi?”

Silence reigned, stretching for so long that you began to fidget.  “Ajussh—“

With a short series of beeps, the door opened abruptly, and a handsome, if slightly disheveled man appeared.  He wore a sharply creased pair of charcoal trousers and a black button down with dove tie, under an argyle sweater vest in various shades of grey.  Despite the obvious care taken with choosing his attire, the tie was skewed, and his hair looked as if hands had been run through it in every direction.  The pallor of his skin bordered on unhealthy, but his mouth was a deep, dark red, as if he had just finished one of the cherry popsicles that you used to love to eat every summer, as a child. 

Looking down at you, he smiled; showing off a perfect set of lovely white teeth, save for—

You blinked, and the canines and incisors which had seemed to be…just a hair too long, resolved themselves as being of entirely normal length.  Chalking it up to academic exhaustion, you bowed, and returned his smile.  You opened your mouth to introduce yourself, but he was already taking you gently by the wrist, leading you inside his apartment, his warm brown eyes bright. 

“Please, come inside.  We can talk about what you’re looking for,”

You stumbled slightly, and his gaze lowered to your braced leg.  He frowned. 

“Well, an apartment is an apartment, right?” you asked, carefully removing your shoes and sliding into a pair of slippers.

“An apartment?  Right.  What you’re looking for…in apartments…” He waved a hand, and then smiled, “Amoung other things.”  Gesturing to a nearby couch he tilted his head.  “Please.  Sit.  The stairs…you must be tired.”

“It’s fine.  I’m used to it.”  Despite your words, you sat gratefully, a small huff of exhaustion escaping before you could control it.

He perched carefully beside you, as if he worried that his mere proximity might hurt you.  “Agasshi…”

“Yes, Ajusshi?”

“Junmyeonsshi is fine.”

“Ah…yes…”

“May I ask what happened?”  He motioned to your leg.

“Oh, it’s fine.  I just tore my ACL a couple of weeks ago.  I’ll be able to remove the brace in a month.”

“Oh, really?”  He suddenly smiled then, as if he knew a secret.  “Would you care for some refreshment?”

Normally you would say no, but the trip down the stairs really had taken a lot out of you.  “May I have a glass of water?”

His smile broadened.  “I think that I can do better than that.  How about some juice?”

“What sort of juice?”

“I have a tart cherry juice…perfect for relieving inflammation.”

“Oh, well then…that would actually be quite lovely…”

“I’ll be right back.”

A minute later he returned, and you gaped.  Somehow, in that short amount of time, he had managed to not only procure your glass of juice, but also to change into a grey pinstriped three-piece suit, and coif his hair. 

Seeing your questioning expression, he smiled ruefully.  “I apologize for my careless appearance earlier.”

“You looked fine.  It’s hard to still look perfect after a long day.”

“Yes, a long day…” he murmured, leaning down to hand you the glass.

The juice inside was a lovely dark red, and you held up the glass to the light, admiring the contents.  Junmyeon sat back down next to you, watching you examine the beverage for a moment before indicating that you should drink.  You sipped, and wrinkled your nose slightly, before regaining control of your expression. 

He laughed.  “I know, but it’s good for you.”

You stared dubiously down into the thick crimson juice.  It didn’t taste bad, per se…just like sweet cherries that had been sitting in a pool of rusty water for a week.  You sighed.  “Well, bottoms up.”  Holding your breath, you squinched your eyes shut, and shotgunned the contents of the glass. 

A curious warmth glowed down your throat, nestled in your belly, before making its way down your extremities.  Your knee in particular began to grow warm, warmer, and even warmer still, growing in intensity until the heat became almost unbearable. 

You drew in an overwhelmed breath, realizing that you must be having some sort of allergic reaction.  Shooting to your feet, you barely heard Junmyeon’s concerned, “What’s wrong?” in your panic.

“I think that I’m having an allergic reaction,” you answered.

He stood then, the picture of calm solicitousness.  “Are you having heart palpitations?”

“No.”

“Shortness of breath?”

“No.”

“Lightheadedness?”

“…No.”

“Then,” he paused delicately, “What makes you think that you’re having an allergic reaction?”

“I just became really warm, and my knee—“ You paused.

“Yes?” he inquired politely.

“My knee was so hot,” you murmured distractedly.

“Agasshi?”

Concentrating, you didn’t answer.

“Agasshi?  Are you…alright?”

“My knee…” you said softly.

“What about it?”

“It doesn’t hurt.  I’m standing…full weight on my leg…but my knee doesn’t hurt anymore…”  Distracted by the sudden lack of stiffness and pain, you almost didn’t notice the extended silence before Junmyeon asked, “Isn’t that good?”

“It’s amazing!” you said suddenly, looking up at him in excitement.  “Wow! That juice is incredible!  I mean, that was almost instantaneous!  Who knew that inflammation was causing all that trouble!?  My knee feels…perfect.” 

A slow, satisfied smile brightened his face.  “Perfect,” he echoed. “You are perfect.”  His eyes grew warm.  “Please, have a seat.”

This time, the flush that you felt was pure embarrassment, and you sat back down, fingers fidgeting with the fawn leather cross-strap of your messenger bag. 

“So, Agasshi.  Why are you looking for an apartment this far into the school year?”

“Well, my roommates are getting married, and they’ve decided that they want to live alone.”

“Unfortunate, but understandable.”

“And since the school year has already started, most places are already taken.”

“Yes, that’s true,” he murmured.

“And the places that aren’t are well out of my price range.  Except here.  Hence…” you gestured to yourself to indicate your presence.

Junmyeon paused before smiling slightly.  “What are you studying?”

You could feel yourself colouring, and you nervously pushed your glasses up the bridge of your nose.  “Cryptozoology.”

An expression of faint surprise flitted across his features.  “Indeed?”

“I know that it’s considered a pseudoscience, but still, the myths and legends that people create are a vital and important part of our culture, and need to be kept alive to help comprehend, and flesh out the human experience.”

“Just so.  And are you working on your dissertation, or your thesis?”

“I’m just a master’s student, but I plan to go onto a Ph.D.”

“And…what do you want to do with that?”

“Ideally?  Teach.  Maybe do some writing.  Of course, the dream would be to discover an actual cryptid, and be able to