A SEOUL MATE- A REINCARNATION ROMANCE (Book 1)

I readjusted my backpack and started to walk away, but Den's voice stopped us.

" Hold it right there."

Frank turned to me, his voice low. "Don't react. Just keep moving."

But I couldn't. Something in Den's tone rubbed against the last nerve I had left.

"Hey, I'm talking to you, newbie," Den said, stepping directly in our path. His towering frame blocked the way, flanked by James, Thimy, and Ken.

What do you want?" I asked, holding his gaze.

Den chuckled, the sound cold, and his friends snickered. "Bold, aren't you? That's cute."

Frank stepped between us. "Leave him alone, Den."

Den smirked. "Since when did you become the bodyguard for exchange students, Frank?"

"Since it became obvious you've got nothing better to do," Frank shot back.

James laughed mockingly. "Oh, he's got a mouth on him now. That's new.

Look," I said, trying to keep my tone even. "I don't know what your problem is, but I've had a long day. Just move aside."

Den raised an eyebrow. "Your day's about to get longer, buddy."

Before I could react, he reached out and grabbed my backpack, tossing it to Thimy.

"Hey!" I shouted, spinning around to grab it.

Thimy grinned, holding it above his head like a trophy. "You want it? Come and get it."

"Give it back!" I said, lunging for the bag, but Thimy tossed it to James who caught it easily.

Frank stepped forward. "That's enough!"

James ignored him, tossing the bag to Ken. "What's in here anyway? Bricks?"

Ken opened it slightly, pretending to peek inside. "Nah, just some foreign junk."

I clenched my fists. "I warn you, return them!"

Den moved a step closer to me; his grin spread further across his face. "Or what? You'll fight us? That'd be a mistake."

Frank tugged on my arm. "Let's go. It's not worth it."

I pulled away. "They can't just-"

"Newbie," Den cut me off. "Let's make a deal. You want your stuff back? Prove you're worthy to be here."

"Worthy?" I echoed, the word laced with disbelief.

Den gestured to his friends. "A little test. A public dare. Something to show us you've got what it takes to hang with the big boys."

"This is ridiculous," Frank muttered.

"Is it?" Den asked in a mock-innocent voice. "Because if your friend here can't handle this, maybe he's not cut out for our university."

"Cut out for what?" I shot back. "This isn't your school.

"Oh, but it is," Den replied. "And you're trespassing."

Ken chuckled low. "Good luck, buddy. You'll need it."

I looked around and saw the small gathering of students that had come to watch. Their murmurs made my frustration overflow.

"Fine," I said, stepping forward. "What's the challenge?"

Frank clutched my arm again. "Don't do this."

"I don't have a choice," I muttered.

Den's grin broadened. "That's the spirit. Here's the deal: see that fountain over there?

I followed his gaze to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard, where water fountained into the air.

"Climb it," Den said.

"What?" Frank and I said.

"You heard me," Den replied. "Climb it, and your bag is yours. Easy."

"That's stupid," Frank said.

"Stupid or not, it's the price," Den replied. "Unless your friend here wants to back out."

I gave Frank a glance, before looking back at Den again.

The silence hung precariously until a voice lashed out and snapped it in two.

"What's going on here?"

A professor strode toward us, her serious eyes raking across the group. Den straightened up at once, the smirk wiped off his face. "Nothing, ma'am. Just. welcoming our new student."

The professor raised an eyebrow. "It doesn't look that way to me."

She turned to me. "Are you okay?"

I wavered and looked into Den's hostile face, and then those of his friends. "I'm fine.

She didn't seem very convinced. "Move along, all of you. Now."

Den threw a last look at me and turned to his friends. "Let's go."

He glanced back over his shoulder. "This isn't over, newbie."

The professor looked disappointed and shook her head as she walked off. "You'll get used to it," she threw after her.

Frank thrust my bag at me since he'd picked that up while I was wrestling the dogs away. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I replied -though my hands still shaking -.

That evening, Frank took me out for dinner at a small street vendor near the campus. The hanging lanterns above cast a warm glow on the busy street, and the smell of grilled meat and spices filled the air. The sizzling of pans and the murmur of customers were barely audible, yet all combined into a lively tune.

We plopped down on an equally miniature plastic table wobbling each time I shifted even just a tad. Frank sent a wide grin my way and sprang up again, extending, "You stay there. I will take this." He turned toward the vendor.

I watched him exchange rapid-fire Korean with the vendor-a stout man with a wide grin and a slightly greasy apron. Every so often, the vendor turned his eyes on me, his curiosity friendly.

When Frank was back, he carried two steaming bowls of noodles, a plate of chicken skewers glistening with sauce, and a side dish of what looked like pickled vegetables. He set them in front of me with flair.

"What's this?" I asked a little apprehensively at the spread before me.

"Dinner," Frank said, handing me a pair of chopsticks. "You'll love it."

I stared at the chopsticks like they were some ancient weapon. "And how am I supposed to use these?"

Frank smirked, expertly picking up a piece of chicken with his own chopsticks. "Like this." He motioned for me to copy.

I tried, but the chopsticks felt alien in my hands. The noodles slipped back into the bowl, splashing broth onto the table.

"Smooth," Frank said, biting back laughter.

The vendor, who had been watching us with growing amusement, finally piped up. "First time?" he asked in broken English, his accent thick but clear.

"Yeah," I muttered, glaring at the chopsticks.

He nodded knowingly, patting my shoulder. "You'll learn… maybe."

Frank almost doubled over with laughter, slapping the table. "Even he doubts you, man!

Not helping," I grumbled, trying again. This time the noodles flapped their way halfway to my mouth before flipping back down into the bowl.

The vendor handed me a fork with a theatrical sigh. "Here. For survival," he said, grinning widely.

I took the fork gratefully. "Thanks. Finally, someone who gets me.

Frank raised an eyebrow. "You're not giving up that easily." He leaned forward, snatched my chopsticks, and picked up a piece of chicken. "Here, open up."

"What?" I said, leaning back instinctively.

"Just eat it. You're embarrassing both of us," he teased, holding the chicken closer to my mouth.

Reluctantly, I leaned forward and took a bite. The sweet, smoky flavor hit my taste buds, and my eyes widened. "Okay, that's… amazing.

"Told you," Frank said smugly.

As I chewed, a small dribble of sauce fell onto my lower lip. In the time it took for me to reach for a napkin, Frank leaned in, his movements sudden and purposeful. With his thumb, he wiped the sauce off. To my utter shock, he then licked it off his own finger.

I sat still.

"Can't waste good sauce," he said carelessly, though the corner of his mouth curled up.

I felt a hot blush flush my face, and I scrambled my chair backward. "Uh… thanks," I muttered, not looking at him.

Frank chuckled. "You're welcome."

The vendor, who had been watching the whole interplay with interest, suddenly burst out laughing. "Romantic, huh?" he said to me with a wink.

"What? No!" I exclaimed, my voice rising an octave.

Frank just shrugged, taking a great deal of pleasure in my discomfort. "Maybe a little," he said popping another piece of chicken into his mouth.

The vendor shook his head still chuckling as he went over to serve another customer. "Foreigners," he muttered, though not unkindly.

I tried to focus on my food, but my attempts with the chopsticks were still going miserably. On my fifth try at grabbing a noodle, Frank leaned over again, his face far too close to mine. "Here, let me show you."

He put his hands over mine, guiding the chopsticks. Firm, soft, almost electrically warm. "Relax your grip," he said low. "Like this."

I nodded; a bit flustered and thus unable to talk at the same time. Slowly, his guiding me through it, I could grasp one noodle.

"See? Not that hard," Frank said, setting himself back in his seat.

"Yeah, well, it only took me an hour," I muttered, though I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my face.

By the time we finished eating, my stomach hurt-not from the food, but from laughing so much. The vendor waved us off with a cheerful "Come back anytime!" as we stood to leave.

Walking back toward the AI company's apartment, the cool evening air helped calm my nerves.

"Thanks," I said finally, breaking the comfortable silence between us.

"For what?" Frank asked after some time, his voice so casual.

"For helping me survive my first day. And… for dinner," I added, softer.

Frank shrugged, hands in pockets. "Get used to it. This place can be rough."

I looked over at him then, his profile lit under the streetlights. "You make it seem easy."

Frank smiled, but there was something unreadable in his expression. "Stick with me, Buchi. You'll be fine."