“Abolishing the unethical facility management system? Apparently that’s in history textbooks now.”
Two employees who had been watching the car pull in gossiped with interest, as if a fresh piece of gossip had finally come their way after a long dry spell.
“Did he come from abroad? He looks young… why does he still have a decommissioned number memorized?”
“The management team calls him Rodeo, but his real name isn’t in the system.”
“Must be a concept.”
The employees shrugged and returned to their posts.
Rodeo, who had been glancing at the moving figures in his rearview mirror, flipped his ringing phone face-down.
[Carousel]
The ringtone didn’t cut out for even a second, all the way through the gate and down into the underground parking lot — but Rodeo only glanced at his phone without picking up.
“…Ugh, I don’t want to do this.”
The call only ended after Rodeo had parked the car, and inside the now-still vehicle, he stretched out with an irritated look on his face.
9:42 AM.
There had been no traffic, so he’d arrived earlier than expected.
Rodeo stared blankly at the clock.
Knock knock.
A figure had approached without him noticing, and at the sound of the knock, Rodeo startled and whipped his head around.
A face that looked to be about high school age was peering into the car right beside him.
“What do you want?”
Rodeo asked, rolling down the window.
“Instructor Carousel told me to come find you. The person who just came in on the SUV.”
“Instructor?”
The combination of that unexpected title and name, delivered in a voice that had only just finished cracking, made Rodeo repeat it back as if he’d just heard something deeply offensive.
“Yes. He only comes in temporarily sometimes, but…”
“I can’t picture it with the way he normally looks… but wait, why are you in a school uniform? Not a combat uniform. Are you training to be a spy?”
“A combat uniform?”
The male student repeated the words as if he were hearing them for the very first time.
“…Does that disappear too after ten years. Never mind. So why did your instructor send you — a kid in a school uniform — when there are plenty of staff around?”
“Because you’ll be attending counseling therapy with me today.”
“Oh, you’re a mental-type esper? Is that why you don’t wear a combat uniform?”
“No… I’m also a therapy patient… my stability readings after ability use are below the required threshold…”
The light that had been glinting in Rodeo’s eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth clamped shut along with it.
Then came the quiet sound of a seatbelt unbuckling.
“Nailing me down so I can’t escape. Absolutely nailing me down.”
He muttered under his breath as he closed the window and turned to grab his car key — and then his phone rang again.
Rodeo, lips pressed into a pout, finally picked up and shouted.
“God, what! I’m coming up, I’m going.”
[You coming up is one thing. Don’t you carry the wallet the staff gave you?]
“I do carry it. It’s in my back pocket.”
[Then why did someone report that you don’t have your registration card and it ends up getting back to me?]
Rodeo pulled a slim black bifold wallet from his back pocket and opened it.
In the clear card slot was a card with Rodeo’s name, age, and barcode printed convincingly on it — and stamped large across the top, alongside the facility logo, were the words “Esper Registration Card.”
[If you didn’t know, you could’ve just gone through the front gate — why did you go to the back gate with no scanner when your license plate is already registered, and cause all this fuss. You really never stop.]
Rodeo gave a drawn-out “ahhh” and answered with something that wasn’t really an answer, and with a single furious roar of exasperation from Carousel, the call ended.
Rodeo shrugged, opened the car door, and stepped out — and the male student, who was at least a full head shorter than him, fidgeted before bowing his head in greeting.
“Do you know who I am?”
“…? No?”
“You don’t know me?”
“I don’t know you…”
“You don’t know the name Rodeo?”
“…I don’t.”
Rodeo thought to himself that he should’ve left later and gone to buy cigarettes instead of showing up early.
“Then why are you bowing if you don’t know me?”
“Because I don’t know you… that’s why I bow.”
“I thought it was a sign of respect. Never mind, let’s go up.”
The sound of the car door closing and locking rang out, and Rodeo strode ahead.
The male student followed in a hurry, a puzzled look on his face.
“But — is your name really Rodeo?”
Rodeo turned around with a satisfied smile spreading across his face almost immediately.
“Oh, so you do know? You’ve heard of it? It’s in the textbooks, right?”
“Huh?”
“…….”
The student had gone back to looking like he knew nothing at all — apparently he had genuinely just been curious whether Rodeo was actually his real name.
Rodeo rolled his eyes in frustration.
“…What’s your name then. If you’re unstable too, shouldn’t your name be something similar?”
“Huh? I’m Brian?”
Rodeo’s eyes went wide and his head tilted.
As if he had just heard something incomprehensible, he stared at Brian’s face for several seconds.
“What does that mean?”
“Huh?”
“Why is your name Brian?”
“…Huh? Because my dad named me Brian…?”
“Your dad???”
Rodeo raised his voice like he was shouting, and Brian flinched before answering in a quickly deflated voice.
“Y, yes…”
“…How do you know what name your dad gave you?”
This time Brian’s face shifted into an expression like, why are you even asking that.
“Because my dad told me…?”
“…….”
“Why is your name Rodeo, hyung?”
“Because I was unstable.”
“In what way?”
“Ability control.”
“Wow, hyung, did your esper abilities manifest right when you were born? That’s still too much though. Who names their son Rodeo…”
Rodeo blinked several times.
“…It’s a name the facility gave me.”
“Huh? How old are you, hyung, that you’re still using a facility name?”
“Twenty-on— oh, I guess I should say thirty-seven.”
“…Huh?”
“It’s one of the two.”
Brian and Rodeo stared at each other in silence.
When Rodeo turned around and started walking, drained of energy, Brian followed behind with a bewildered look on his face.
After that, there was no conversation for a long while — not until they got on the elevator and Rodeo stepped off first at the first floor.
“Hey, stay after we’re done.”
While the elevator doors were still open, Rodeo turned around, pointed at him, and tossed out the words.
Brian just blinked his eyes wide.
“Meet me in the cafeteria at noon. I have a lot of questions.”
Since it was the first day, it was packed with all kinds of tests, and before he knew it the two hours had flown by.
Rodeo headed toward the cafeteria.
Even if Brian had skipped out and not shown up, there were plenty of ways to track him down — so his stride was an unhurried, easy saunter.
“No need to go through the hassle of tracking you down. Good thing you’re well-behaved, Brian.”
Rodeo gave a light wave as he called out to Brian, who was standing in front of the cafeteria door scratching the back of his head.
Brian gave a small bow.
“Still don’t know who I am?”
“I did ask a staff member…”
“Oh, and what did they say?”
“They said they didn’t know either…”
“…Right. Fine.”
Rodeo finally gave up, made his way along the buffet line, loaded only sliced roast beef and mashed potatoes onto his plate, and then — spotting an empty table — jerked his chin toward it and signaled Brian with his eyes.
Brian quickly added one more piece of chicken to his plate and nodded.
The way he bounced along behind him, carrying a towering mountain of chicken, was kind of endearing — but to Rodeo’s eyes, it looked quite out of place.
“So, you are an esper being trained at the facility, right?”
Rodeo set his plate down on the table, pulled his chair out and dropped into it, and said it plainly.
Brian flopped down into his chair and scooted it in with a bounce.
“I am an esper…”
Brian answered in an uncertain voice.
The sudden sight of a cowering kid caught Rodeo off guard.
“No, that’s not what I meant—”
“It’s true that my abilities are weak enough that after I graduate from the Academy I’ll basically have to blend in with regular people, but I am an esper…”
“No, I mean — actually forget it — what even is this Academy? Why is an esper wearing a school uniform?”
“…Because I go to the Academy. I’m an esper, so I have to learn ability regulation methods at the Academy?”
