Seunghyun had never witnessed such an elegantly woven web of lies.

The four of them – Mrs. Gong, Minji, himself and Jiyong – sat cross-legged on the floor around the feast his neighbors had prepared.  At least two dozen small plates and bowls filled the low table, each with a more than generous portion of various home-cooked Korean dishes.  Seunghyun picked at his food sparingly, his appetite torpedoed by the disguised genie’s presence.  Jiyong, on the other hand, was devouring bulgogi and dumplings ravenously.  It was almost impressive how he managed to prattle on so much at the same time he was stuffing his face.

“…if you can believe it.  We went to the same college you know, Sangmyung University?  He was always the one who wanted to go out drinking while I wanted to stay in and study.  It’s a wonder he ever graduated.  I remember once, we went out and…”

It was astounding.  Mrs. Gong was completely enraptured, and drank more from Jiyong’s inane gossip than her tea cup.  Her daughter was enjoying the stories almost as much, pointing across the table and howling with laughter at the fake, yet eerily familiar, memories of Seunghyun the genie was telling.  And the of Jiyong’s grand joke could do nothing but chuckle along, or come off a ridiculous party pooper.

“But really, Hyojin—Can I call you Hyojin?” the genie continued.

“Of course, darling!” Mrs. Gong insisted, her friendly eyes shining.  Jiyong’s ever-flapping pink lips stretched into a sickeningly perfect smile.  She’s never told me I could call her Hyojin!  Seunghyun thought bitterly as he chewed a tough piece of beef.

“This soup is absolutely fantastic.”  To seal the deal, Jiyong lifted the bowl and tipped back his head, downing the last of its contents in an enthusiastic gulp.

Seunghyun eyed his own serving of the brew, the smell of the fermented fish floating in broth thankfully covered by a plethora of other odors.  I guess he wasn’t kidding about not being able to taste…

Mrs. Gong offered another dish to her enthusiastic guest, but Jiyong declined with a hand on his stomach.  “I couldn’t take another bite, truly!”  He shot a disapproving glance to the man on his right.  “Seunghyun hasn’t touched his, though.  What’s the matter?  Don’t tell me you’re trying to slim down again.  He can be so self conscious about his—“

“I’m just not feeling very well,” Seunghyun cut him off.  “I hate to be rude, but I’d really just rather go home.”

He expected some semblance of protest, but neither Mrs. Gong nor Minji batted an eye.  “That’s too bad.  I’ll send some leftovers along with Jiyong for you dear.”

“Actually, we both have to go.”  Seunghyun stood, and started to reach for Jiyong’s arm, recalling at the last second that there would be nothing to grasp to anyway.  Instead, he faked a pat on the shoulder as best he could.

Jiyong waved him away.  “Alright, alright, I’ll be along shortly.  Now as I was saying—“

“I really don’t think that would be wise,” Seunghyun declared slowly through clenched teeth.  “You’re only in town for a couple weeks, if that long.”

The genie took the hint.  “Fine then, off we go!”

The historian made sure to lead Jiyong through the door first, keeping himself between the vaporous being and anyone that might try to shake his hand or anything else that wouldn’t end well.  Mrs. Gong managed to throw together two take-home plates before Seunghyun was out the door.

“I’ll send over some more with Minji tomorrow.  Thanks for stopping by!  It was lovely to meet you Jiyong!”

He flashed a toothy white smile on his way into the apartment in front of Seunghyun, who quickly closed and locked the door behind him.  In the seconds he had his eyes off the genie, Jiyong had transformed back into the wild-haired golden-robed anomaly from earlier that day, floating about as if nothing had changed.

“That was fun!” he exclaimed, his fidgeting hands tangled in his many necklaces.

Seunghyun pointed a forceful finger in the genie’s face.  “If you ever pull a stunt like that again—“

“You’ll do what?  Stuff me back in your oversized jar?”  Jiyong had quickly picked up on Seunghyun’s easily manipulated, pushover disposition, and was now latched on with all his might.  “Your little scientific endeavor wouldn’t go very far after that.”

Whirling away from Jiyong and stomping into the kitchen, Seunghyun tossed the plates of food into his refrigerator with all the frustration of a child throwing a tantrum.

“Wait, take this, too.”  Jiyong pulled back a flowing sleeve and jammed a hand into his dematerialized gut, producing a bowl Seunghyun recognized from his own dishes, heaping with Mrs. Gong’s cooking and floating just above the genie’s palm.  He sent it coasting through the air to the kitchen counter, where it landed with a light thud.  “A trick I came up with centuries ago.  Makes it look like I’m really eating.”

Seunghyun watched with unimpressed, lidded eyes, before heading to his bedroom without a word.

“Tell me,” Jiyong said as he wafted along behind him.  “Are you angry that I showed myself to other people, or simply that I declined to tell you I intended to?  You would have tried to stop me either way.  Lighten up: at least now you can be sure you aren’t just seeing things.”

But Seunghyun was ripping off his suit jacket and tossing it back in his closet without a thought to hanging it up.  His tie was next to go.  “This is too much.”

“What is?”

“ALL of it!” he barked.  “What was I supposed to do if one of them tried to touch you?  Or their cat rubbed up against you or something?  How could I explain it?  How could I explain you?”

“Isn’t ‘explaining me’ exactly what you intended to do?” Jiyong asked calmly.  “To lock me up in some glass cage on display for the common folk to gawk at?”

“I never said anything like that.”  One shoe flew into the closet after the other.  “I just… this is too stressful.  You’re magic for god’s sake!  No one believes in magic these days; I sure didn’t.  I’m still not sure I do.”

Jiyong cocked an eyebrow.  “You’re not sure by now?”

“No, I’m not.”  The hot air that built up in Seunghyun over dinner seemed to have dissipated, and he sat deflated on the end of his bed.  “Magic… it’s a lazy excuse for things you can’t explain.”

“I believe that there is nothing lazy about admitting that some things cannot be explained.”  Jiyong slowly came to rest beside Seunghyun, and the chill in the air he brought with him made the man shiver and fold his arms.  “It takes a lot of courage to acknowledge that you don’t understand something, and even more to let it go.”

Seunghyun silently considered the ancient being’s advice.  He had fourteen days to work with, and perhaps revolutionizing the scientific world had been a lofty goal from the start.  Even if his time was short, perhaps it was best to begin by moving slowly.  “Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Jiyong rose through the air with a dancing spin.  “You simply need to relax.  Maybe after a wish or two—“

“No.”

Now it was the genie’s turn to deflate.  “Do you really distrust me that much?”

“Yes!”

Jiyong huffed.  “So be it.  Maybe when you wake up in the morning and see I didn’t feed you to demons or burn down the city in the night you’ll change your mind.”

His master had to at least chuckle at that.  “Maybe so.”

The sun had yet to set that evening, but Seunghyun suddenly felt like he could sleep for a hundred years or more.  “Listen, I have work tomorrow.  I work at a museum, did I tell you that already?  Do you know what a museum—“

“Yes, I know what a museum is.”

“Well, good.  I’ll be going there tomorrow to see my boss, Dr. Yang.  He’s the one who gave me the urn in the first place.”  Seunghyun stopped to ponder for a moment before continuing.  “There’s no chance that you know him, do you?”

“Portly fellow, white hair and glasses?”

Seunghyun’s mouth fell open.  “That’s him!”

The genie nodded.  “There’s a small painting of the two of you in your library, near your ‘diploma.’  That’s how I knew where you studied.”

“Painting?  Oh, you mean a photograph, right.”  Seunghyun scratched the back of his head.  “I just wanted to make sure he didn’t know about you, but I guess that doesn’t prove anything anyway.  Okay, well what I was getting at, was that I don’t think it’s just some coincidence that he gave me your urn.  I think he knew what he was doing, and I want to know why.”

“That could be dangerous,” Jiyong warned.

“Could be, but I need to know.”  He covered his mouth to hold back a yawn.

“And I supposed you’ll want me to stay here, out of sight, correct?”

“Actually, I think it’s best if you come with me.”

Jiyong’s face lit up at that.  “Wonderful!  And don’t worry about a thing:  I’ve been studying the clothing of this era…” with a snap of his fingers, Jiyong produced a magazine from Seunghyun’s living room into the air before him.  “I’ll make sure to look presentable.  And I won’t touch anything!”

Seunghyun noticed that the model on the front cover was wearing the same suit Jiyong had appeared in at dinner.   “That’s… pretty creative of you.”

The genie ate up the compliment with a bemused smile.  “I’ve gotten quite good at this over the years, I assure you.”

The historian stood and pulled back the blankets on his bed, stopping only when Jiyong didn’t leave.  “Do you mind?”

He rolled his eyes, but nonetheless evaporated somewhere out into the apartment.  “Goodnight, sire,” he called across the living room, and Seunghyun could hear the sound of pages turning shortly afterward.

That must be how he adapts to all the time he’s missed, Seunghyun realized as he changed into his sleeping sweatshirt and flannel pants.  There were enough books in the study to keep Jiyong busy for months, let alone until morning, so Seunghyun went to bed and let him be.  He closed the bedroom door, mindful of how futile it was should the genie want inside for whatever reason, but it gave him enough peace of mind to slip into an exhausted sleep.