“You gotta be kidding me,” Yifan said while staring at the kid’s out-stretched hand.

The kid, Do Kyungsoo, peered up at him curiously. “I’m Kyungsoo,” he repeated, wiggling his hand a little bit.

Yifan nodded stiffly, not taking the boy’s hand. Instead he looked around the office. It was tiny, but very tidy and homey. Even someone with obsession for order (not obsession, habit) like him would feel comfortable staying in there. Do Kyungsoo retreated his offered hand and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. Yifan would feel sorry, but he wasn’t the type of person who readily accepted a hand-shake, especially from people he just met.

“Oh, um—” Kyungsoo pointed at the soft velvet couch near him. “You may sit down.”

Yifan scrutinized the cushion before tentatively sitting down on it. He shifted from side to side and when he was finally comfortable, he looked up at the supposedly therapist. The petite was staring at him with a mixture of curiosity and excitement. Just like an elementary kid.

“So—” Kyungsoo started. “I’ve already introduced myself, I’m Do Kyungsoo, a therapist. May I know your name? Sir?” he added like an afterthought.

“I’m Wu Yifan,” Yifan answered, crisply.

Yifan noticed a flicker of recognition in Kyungsoo’s eyes. Lu Han must have told the guy about him before. He hoped it would simplify things. But there was something that still bothered him.

“I’ve heard about you before.” Kyungsoo confirmed Yifan’s assumption. “Well, um, do you want to drink something? Tea? I have Darjeeling and Earl Grey. Or do you want some coffee?”

“It’s okay, I bring my own drink.” Yifan held out his tumbler. He settled it on the coffee table in front of him, twisting it so that the handle faced certain direction. He nodded once he was satisfied. He shifted his gaze at Do Kyungsoo and caught the guy once again observing him intently with his wide eyes.

They stared at each other for awhile before he giving up and asked the young guy, “I’m sorry, it’s just baffling me but—exactly how old are you?”

“I’m 25,” Kyungsoo said, mouth forming into a heart-shaped smile. “Ah, probably you think I was younger than that? People tend to think that I’m a middle school kid, I’m used to it.”

“No, I’m—” Yifan shook his head. “When I accepted your business card I expected someone older than you. Like someone in his thirties or something.”

“Oh God, did my card give you that impression?” Kyungsoo seemed worried. “I should have chosen that irisdescent design. Maybe that’s why I don’t have more client?” Yifan heard Kyungsoo muttered at himself.

“No, your card is okay I guess,” Yifan hurriedly said. “It’s just, I’ve never met such a young psychiatrist before.”

“I skipped three grades during my school years,” Kyungsoo explained, beaming at him. “And I’m lucky to acquire my license quickly and smoothly. I just opened this center a month ago.”

Great. A young fresh-grad. More reason to doubt this little guy in front of him.

“That’s—cool.”

“I know right? Okay, well, we’ve already introduced ourselves.” Kyungsoo clasped his hands. “In the first session I usually chat with my client. You know, warming things up, talking about little stuffs. Although you’ll fill a form of personal information at the end of this session, I’d rather we tell each other directly? Sounds great?”

It didn’t, Yifan thought and frowned. Kyungsoo seemed a bit deflated by Yifan’s lack of enthusiasm. But he kept his cheerful tone.

“So, let’s get started. Tell me about you?”

“Wu Yifan. 28. Editor in Chief of Market Values. Chinese-Canadian.”

Kyungsoo went silence for a while, as if waiting for more information coming out from Yifan. “Uh, that’s it?” he asked, sounding unsure.

Yifan nodded.

“Well, um—what about hobbies?” The little guy asked slowly. “You must have one.”

“Reading.”

“That’s great!” Kyungsoo commented. “What do you like to read?”

“Business journals and books about Keynesian,” Yifan replied.

“I love reading journal too, but medical ones.” When Yifan didn’t respond Kyungsoo cleared his throat. “You said, you’re Chinese-Canadian? I supposed you’re able to speak a lot of languages?”

The rest of the morning, Kyungsoo kept throwing questions which Yifan answered shortly. The young therapist giving out information about himself here and there, not that Yifan cared. The blonde felt that he wasted his time reviewing next issue’s articles for this unuseful session. He couldn’t wait to come back to his office.

“I hope to see you soon,” Kyungsoo said as Yifan handed him a freshly filled form. “I can adjust myself to your schedule. Just contact my secretary if you’ve made an appropriate arrangement. And I also expect you to bring your medical record from your previous therapist if you ever had one?”

Yifan nodded distractedly. He already knew that he wouldn’t come back to this place ever again. Lu Han was wrong, he didn’t need help. Especially not from this unconvincing little kid. He didn’t want to be the kid’s partner to play doctor with. Yifan was fine, everyone needed to know that.

 

 

 

“Have you taken your medicine today?” Was Kyungsoo’s usual opening line.

Came the immediate response. “A dose of clomipramine before I started my day.”

Kyungsoo was having his regular phone-chat with his father. The older Do lived faraway in Jeju Island, tending his large farm there after he resigned from his job as a professor in Seoul. Kyungsoo was very closed to his father that even regular conversations couldn’t satiate his yearning toward his old man. He was still an extremely spoiled and clingy man even in such age.

“I’m glad that you’re still listening to Mr. Jung.” Mr. Jung was their family physician, even after Kyungsoo had become a doctor himself.

“How’s my son doing today?” Kyungsoo’s father asked.

He sighed deeply. “Great I guess, that client with social anxiety and heavy agoraphobia finally opens up to me,” Kyungsoo replied. “And the client I mentioned yesterday finally responded to the medication I prescribed. Also, I got another client today.” I think, he added mentally.

“That’s great, Boy!” his father complimented. “It’s just about time.”

Kyungsoo sighed again. He doubt that the gorgeous blond man would come back to his center. He wasn’t the slightest bit impressed when Kyungsoo mentioned his age, even more not so when Kyungsoo said he only opened the center a month ago. During their session, he only answered Kyungsoo’s questions with clipped replies.

“What’s with that sigh?”

Kyungsoo really couldn’t hide anything from his father. He decided to be blunt about his anxiety.

“Do you ever think that I’m not ready for this?” Kyungsoo blurted out. “Like, maybe I’m just too young and plainly naive?”

“Now, what are you talking about?” Kyungsoo knew his father was frowning on the other line.

“Maybe I was too eager pursuing my academic life and missing out a lot in my life?” Kyungsoo bit his bottom lip. “This field is made for old and mature people, Dad. I probably just look like a kindergarten kid wearing oversized coat and trying to play doctor. I should have slowed down and dated like some normal people.”

“You can date once you get married,” his father chided. “And what are you saying? It’s your capability that brings you to where you’re right now.”

“But Dad—” Kyungsoo tried to argue but was cut off.

“You always say that you want to help people like me ever since you were a kid,” his father reminded. “Your intelligence only serves as a booster and there’s nothing wrong with it. It just means that you’re lucky enough.”

Kyungsoo felt tidal wave of shame washed over him. How could he forget about his wish helping people out their misery? Kyungsoo was so lucky to have enough brain capacity to do just that. He shouldn’t be whining because he hadn’t had much clients. Moreover, who knew when the table would turn?

“I’m sorry for whining,” Kyungsoo murmured.

“Be more confident of yourself,” his father said. “Because I have so much confidence in you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” Kyungsoo teared up a bit. Trust his Dad to always succeed in raising his spirit.

 

 

 

Yifan thought that Yixing’s Americano was one of the world’s wonders. It was bitter but not so bitter that it covered his palate and left uncomfortable sourness on his tongue all morning. He found the Chinese bartender right after he moved to Seoul and had never since looked back to his own coffee machine. He came back every day.

“Good morning.” Yixing greeted Yifan with a warm smile as the man came up to the counter.

The guy accepted Yifan’s tumbler and without word proceeded in making his usual order. One of the reasons why Yifan loved to visit the place—other than the fact it was two minutes walk from his flat—was that Yixing didn’t try to annoy him with relentless chatter. He just greeted him, working on his order, and occasionally making commentaries about that day’s weather while Yifan just stood there, grunting as responses. Yifan wasn’t a very decent person in the morning, not that he was an angel at the other times, but you got the point.

Yifan looked around at the cafe interior. It was warm and cozy, but of course Yifan found flaws, just like he had in everything. The books in the sole bookshelf inside the cafe weren’t arranged according to the alphabetical order. That flower painting behind the counter was hanging crookedly on the wall. The cushion on the comfortable sofa nearest to him was placed backward. Yixing’s nametag—Yifan quickly pulled himself off the intruding thoughts before he got lost in it. Something tugged in him and tried to maneuver his body to make those disordered things right. Yifan pointedly ignored the urge.

“A cup of Americano.” Yixing handed him his tumbler. He circled a paper towel around the tumbler so he didn’t touch it directly. What a thoughtful guy.

Yifan left with a quick, awkward nod after paying. He was in no hurry to get to the office but his natural watch had always keeping him on his toes to the place at this hour. He could probably re-review the green economy article or chewing Sehun out about his last disastrous work or—

“Wu Yifan-sshi?”

Yifan was jerked away from his mind. He stopped abruptly and tried to find the source of that somewhat familiar voice.

It came in the form of a short, dark-hair male, wearing the most hideous track suit Yifan had ever witnessed. He was smiling widely, obviously excited about seeing him. Yifan couldn’t say the same though.

“Nice to see you here!” Kyungsoo flashily beamed. “Are you living in this neighborhood?”

“Um, yeah,” Yifan mumbled.

“What a coincidence!” The young doctor replied jovially. “I just moved here last week.”

“Great.” Yifan cleared his throat. “Well, I—”

“I’m living in that building.” Kyungsoo continued, pointing to a tall beige building. Well, , it was Yifan’s!

“That’s—” Awful. “Wonderful.”

“I really hope to see you this week in my office,” Kyungsoo said. “There are so many things to talk about.”

Yifan had vowed to never come back. He saw the resolution slowly scattered at seeing Kyungsoo’s innocent eyes.

Yifan chose to flee before he said something he might regret. “I need to get to work—”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Kyungsoo nodded, smiley. Was it possible for someone to be that cheery in the morning?

“I—yeah.” Yifan bowed awkwardly then took off.

“I hope you have a good day!” Kyungsoo wished so loudly it almost threw the blonde off his feet. He glared back, but the oblivious guy already turned around and walked into his building. Their shared building.

Yifan was so distracted that he forgot to avoid cracks on the pavements.

 

 

 

“How are you today Joonmyun-sshi?” Kyungsoo asked. He maintained a safe distance with the client because the man could hyperventilate (literally) if Kyungsoo was so much as closer as a feet from him. This was a lot of progress though, because Joonmyun used to hide behind the couch during their first sessions.

“Not good,” Junmyoon replied under his breath. “M-my sister tried to take me to subway yesterday. I—” Junmyoon heaved and fidgeted.

“I will talk to your sister about that,” Kyungsoo assured him. “Well, how do you find the weather today?”

The session went smoothly. Kyungsoo smiled satisfiedly when he noticed Junmyoon’s shoulders less slumped and he even put on a slight grin by their time ended. People with disorders needed someone to listen to them without being judgmental, and Kyungsoo was glad he could give that kind of support, reassurance.

He didn’t have any appointment after that and by five, he had already waved at Mrs. Jung and bolted. Kyungsoo stopped by mart to buy a new box of oatmeal and headed straight to home.

When he first browsing for new flat, Kyungsoo felt in love right away to the neighborhood. It was quiet from Seoul’s bustle and for once since he lived in the city, Kyungsoo could hear his own thoughts clearly. It was far from city central but Kyungsoo didn’t mind. There were small restaurants, a nice coffee shop, a fully equipped mart around so Kyungsoo believed he was set.

Kyungsoo hummed his favorite folk song on his way upstairs. He was just getting off the elevator when he heard a deep shriek.

A man in the hallway was having the time of his life. A small poodle was jumping and yipping exictedly at his feet. The man kicking blindly to chase the poor thing away.

“Go away, you stupid dog!”

“Hey!”

The man stopped kicking and looked up to him. He frowned deeply.

“What are you doing here?” Yifan asked.

“Uh, I live here?”

“Right.” Yifan seemed like recalling the problem he was still having under him. “Go. ing. Away. Dog.”

“I got him.” Kyungsoo quickly swept the poodle to his embrace before Yifan actually succeeded in stomping the thing.

Right then a middle-age woman coming out from one of the rooms. Her eyes widened at the two men and she shouted, “Ginger! There you are!” She took the small dog from Kyungsoo and cooed at it.

“You need to watch on your dog more carefully,” Yifan chided.

“She is just curious little thing.” The woman shrugged. “I can’t help if you’re afraid of dog.”

“I’m—”

But the woman already walked back to her place. Kyungsoo heard a muttered “Freak” before the door closed off.

“Er—” Kyungsoo didn’t know what to say.

“I’m leaving,” Yifan grunted but somehow staying rooted in his place.

“Okay.”

Yifan was tense. His face was contorted into immersed concentration like he was forcing himself to do something but his body couldn’t do it. The man’s cheeks reddened when he noticed Kyungsoo’s relentless stare. The younger quickly looked down and—

Oh. There was a wet bite mark of Yifan’s otherwise unblemished shoe. Kyungsoo got a grasp in the situation.

Tentatively, Kyungsoo moved closer to the man. “I’m taking off your shoe, okay?” he said. Yifan nodded.

So Kyungsoo crouched down and gently, very gently trying to pry off Yifan’s foot. He heard a loud exhale after he did so.

“I—” Another exhale. “Appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Kyungsoo stood back up. “What should I do with this?”

Yifan took a glance to the shoe and closed his eyes as if seeing the object hurt. “Throw it away,” he replied. “And this.” He pulled off his other shoe and handed it to Kyungsoo. “Can you?”

Sensing Yifan’s distress, Kyungsoo couldn’t help but nod. “I will,” he said.

“Thanks—for that.” Yifan jerked his head to the woman’s door before turning away. Kyungsoo nodded again as a reply. He watched silently as Yifan fumbled with his keys. He sighed when the man finally disappeared through his door.

 

 

 

Sehun cursed his other two colleagues for getting stuck with the tyrant editor. They were out to attend gala dinner of their magazine’s partner. And, while Sehun would never turn down good food, he was trapped in the regal aura of his supervisor. Chanyeol had mentioned he had an anniversary date with his martial artist boyfriend. Jongdae turned down the offer because his brother came from Goyang but the guy probably just bluffing.

“Mr. Wu, it’s so nice to have you here tonight!” Mr. Kang, a representative from their partner company, greeted them. They had been partnered for so long, he knew not to intrude Yifan’s personal space.

“It’s a—festive party,” Yifan commented.

“We always pour our hardest on such events,” Mr. Kang said. He turned to Sehun. “I hope you enjoyed the food.”

“I do,” Sehun responded through the meat in his mouth. Yifan rolled his eyes at his behavior but said nothing.

“Great.” Mr. Kang nodded. “I’ll leave you two to your own devices.”

Yifan sat on the closest seat when Mr. Kang left. Sehun, despite wanting to grab another plate juicy wagyu, followed him. He waited for the elder to say something, because he always had something to say. Or to complain, really. But the man was uncharacteristically quiet.

Sehun was bobbing his head following the music when Yifan spoke up. “What do you think of me? What kind of man am I?”

“Eh?” Sehun’s throat went dry. “Forgive me, Sir, but I’ve already gotten a boyfriend.”

Yifan side-eyed him, critically. Oh.

“Er, sorry,” Sehun said sheepishly. The tip of his ears reddened. “Why are you asking?”

“Can you just answer me without asking back?” Yifan snapped. “Kids these days.”

Sehun held the urge to snort because Yifan wasn’t that much older from himself.

“I think you’re a very capable editor,” Sehun said, hoping that his answer was sufficient enough to pass. Life was like a test when you were working with Wu Yifan.

“I mean me—personally.”

“Well, I think you are—” Sehun’s mind went blank because he honestly didn’t know what to make out of Yifan’s personality without being offensive. He loved his job too much to lose it.

Yifan turned to him when he didn’t come out with anything. “Forget it. I know I’m not a good person.”

“Boss—”

“But is it my fault?” Yifan said, mostly to himself.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo didn’t expect to find Wu Yifan outside the apartment building when he was going to his routine morning run. Moreover, he didn’t expect the man to barrel toward him with that intense expression.

“I want to get better,” Yifan yelled at his face. “Can you help me?”

Kyungsoo broke into the widest smile.

 

---

A/N: It's been a year since I uploaded the first chapter and I'm terribly sorry. I can't help but being fussy about this because I'm a psychology student and I want the story to be 'spot on' with reality. I hope you enjoy this chapter.