"Anyway we'll probably need to give you guys new names, though. And you should avoid speaking Russian in public, and Nemtsov Sasha-shi should take some Korean classes, too. You can't blend in exactly but let's be real no esper can, we're all so, you know "

"We?" I don't deserve that comparison! I'm not even close to having such unique and charismatic presence.

"That makes sense. I only ever went by 'Yuri' in Russia, since the government only recognizes Russophone names. I could stick to 'Kim Dasol' or the like to avoid the surname."

"We?" I don't deserve that comparison! I'm not even close to your gay ass.

"I've been doing my DuoLingo since I found out Yuri wanted to run away! I'm up to level 23."

"We're going to get you better teachers than Duolingo," he says, with a completely straight face. "Kim Dasol works. Nemtsov Sasha-shi, do you want to pick a different name and nationality?"

"Nationality? Uh... I can't just be Russian? I don't really know any other languages well. My English is fine if I'm writing but my accent..."

"With my hair this color maybe people would believe Irish, or like, Dutch? Don't have to worry about people trying to talk to me in Gaelic around here. Or American, they kinda look like anything. Just gotta smile like you're insane all the time."

"You're an esper, can't really hide that, so your hair colour is just a hair colour. You could always be Ukrainian," he suggests.

"Come on, I don't sound Ukrainian. 'Lyit's hit hoin', Serhiy!'" His smile falters. "I could maybe do Ukrainian. Isn't that kinda... too close, though?"

He shrugs. "We gotta balance not being findable by pressing Ctrl+F on the esper database with being something you can actually pass as. And while I don't doubt you can do the crazy American smile I think your English is clockable."

This would be a lot easier if y'all had stayed in our orbit instead of the anglosphere—okay, you know what? I just played that one back and maybe the whole 'fuck Russia' thing is more understandable than I was giving you credit for.

"Okay, well, It'd be nice if it was an easy name for you all to say. I mean, in Korean, no? That's like... what we make you all do in Russia...." Smooth, dude. Smoooooooooth. Fuck, I hate not being able to sense what he's thinking. Is it polite to try to find a good name? Is it rude? Is it... fuck. He blinks suddenly and looks away from where his eyes had settled on the man's collarbone.

"How about... Misha? Like, Mikhail? Uh, Malinin, maybe? Is that... those are all Korean sounds."

"I vote for Misha. Two-syllable names, that's our jam."

"Yours is... four? Xashiyannim..."

"It's two, Sasha! Xa is his surname! And 'nim' is like 'sir!'"

"Shit, Yuri, we've been calling this guy 'sir' this whole time? Did we offer to suck his dick, as well?"

don't visualize don't visualize don't visualize don't visualize—

"Too laaaaaaate~"

...

"Sorry, uh, inside joke. Anyway." He coughs into his fist. "Yeah, so 'Misha Malinin' is a fine name. Uh, and for a patronymic... Mikhailovich for simplicity? Mikhail Mikhailovich Malinin. Em-em-em."

The problem with talking to this guy is that he has none of that low-level brain hum that Sasha was used to. It's weird! He hates talking to people like this. He always wants to fill the space with chatter. "I don't think I can get down to one syllable for a surname. Is that going to ruin anything?"

He looks extremely amused by these antics. "No, and it would be weird if you did. People will probably call you Malinin Misha-shi."

The more amused Si-yeon looks, the more Sasha visibly relaxes. "Okay, well, guess I'm that guy now. Uh, 'm' looks like a little box, right? So I'm... box, vertical line, wave, vertical-line-plus-two-tick-marks... that's not horrible."

All this thinking about his own identity is making the silence in Si-yeon's head more frustrating. All he can hear is fucking Yuri and his fucking desire to collapse inward and disappear which is not helpful! It's hard to sound chill with these vibes.

He needs either more physical space or less mental space. "I, uh, you got a bathroom I can use real quick? I gotta piss so bad."

"Yeah. Second door to the left," he says, gesturing.

"Ugh, thank god." He stands up, shaking his legs out and turning to go. As he does, he gently punches Yuri—more like places his fist against Yuri's ear—letting the contact linger as long as he can for the guiding—which, practically speaking, is exactly enough to get that little thrill of release but no true relief. "Don't sell your soul to the handsome devil while I'm gone, okay?" And then he's walking as fast as he can without losing too much face toward the second door on the left.

"Yo! You guys even got nice bathrooms?!" he shouts amicably as he disappears within.

Dasol gets out of the chair and bows the moment the door clicks shut. "I am so sorry about xim! Please do not take the things xe says too much to heart. Trash-talking like that is much more acceptable in Russia."

"Also much more acceptable in Quasar. When he's back I should remind myself to tell him that one of our differentials is that we're allowed to yell at the guild president when he fucks up."

Dasol isn't finished! "I take full responsibility for xim being Korea at all! I will—" and then the words penetrate. "You what? You do? That's... unorthodox."

Just look at him, Dasol! Does he look orthodox? You're so ready to be considered a fake Korean that you're not even looking at the hot guy grinning at you and—actually nope, that's too much looking. Tooooo much looking! There is a proper, medium amount of looking that is appropriate in this context and that is not it.

"You know, thinking about it, a more relaxed corporate culture may be just the thing for two new immigrants." He bites his lip like he is considering, and then unbites it when he thinks too hard about how that probably looks. "If nothing else I'm less likely to offend someone." He sits back down gently. "May I—would it be impertinent to request Korean lessons as well? For myself? I am conversational but I could be much stronger."

"Oh yes I definitely think you should. I talked mostly about him getting lessons because he needs to be taken down a peg or twenty but you'd do well with some accent practice, too, at least."

"Xa! Yeah. I fear that nothing will get through to him except a swift kick to something soft. Though your shielding certainly has him on edge. He's not used to being unable to feel people out as he's talking. He's worried you don't like him."

Why are you sharing this, Dasol? He doesn't care. "He's less of an ass when he's comfortable. Which is mostly never."

"Oh I like him! He's very charming. But he's a bit of an asshole too and if he wants to dish it out he better be ready to take it, too."