A Weekend to Endure
Yeoncheong wondered if buying a single piece of underwear was really supposed to be this difficult.
Right size, reasonable color. That had been enough back when she was a man. Having never once made a special trip to a store just to buy underwear, she simply couldn't understand it.
And that was before the flood of jargon — this color sells better, this design is prettier, does it have hooks, is it wireless for comfort, full cup or half cup — every word of it completely alien to her.
At some point, the sales clerk who had been asking Yeoncheong what she thought had switched to consulting exclusively with Chairwoman Yurim.
Yeoncheong repeated the cycle of taking the underwear that clerk and Yurim settled on and going off to try it on.
"Yeoncheong, try this one too."
"Again?"
She grumbled a little as she headed off for yet another fitting, the number of which had long since stopped being countable.
Yurim's eyes narrowed as she browsed through the other options.
"I can't tell how things fit on you unless you actually try them on. That's how we finish faster."
"I can't really tell the difference myself..."
Was it comfortable? Did it hold everything in place? Did anything spill over?
Yurim had told her to just describe whatever she felt, but Yeoncheong, for whom this category of underwear was a complete first, couldn't render a proper assessment to save her life.
Which was why they were trying on as many as possible.
After the endless cycle of changing in and out, the embarrassment of being caught in scraps of white fabric with her navel on full display had been worn down ages ago.
The underwear hunt, which had begun to make her legs ache, finally neared its end. The clerk, her face noticeably brighter, gathered up the selections and headed to the register.
"Oh, this one too."
Yeoncheong muttered as she watched her go.
"Do I not need to try that one on?"
"You've tried on plenty already."
Yurim, who had picked out a mountain of it, insisted that a girl should be well stocked when it came to underwear.
The two of them made their way to the register. Without even looking, Yurim said,
"Don't even think about pulling out your card in front of your elders. You'll get scolded."
"I asked for help, not for you to buy everything."
Almost all her spending went to school and home, with the occasional grocery run to the mart. On top of that, she barely ordered delivery food and cooked for herself instead.
The living expenses her father sent kept piling up.
Yurim took Yeoncheong's hand and held out her own card.
"Still no. I'm the one who wanted to buy these for you — that's why I dragged you here. Just accept it with a thank-you."
The clerk finished the transaction and handed over the shopping bags. Yeoncheong accepted them through Chairwoman Yurim's hands.
"...Thank you."
And so Yeoncheong and Yurim left the lingerie boutique and got into the car.
***
Raindrops began to fall without warning. Every time the drops thickened enough to blur the windshield, the wipers swept across it.
Yeoncheong held the shopping bags in her lap and looked at Yurim.
"What? Have you finally decided to get my title right?"
Ever since Yeoncheong had become a girl, Yurim had insisted at every opportunity that from now on it was "unnie," not "noona."
"You were only my noona when I was little. Calling a woman my age unnie... doesn't that feel a little off?"
"Yeoncheong..."
The voice was beyond cool — a faint killing intent threaded through it. Yeoncheong swallowed without meaning to.
"A woman's age is not something you go poking at. You're a girl now too, Yeoncheong, so you understand, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The answer shot out the instant the sentence ended. Pure survival instinct.
Yeoncheong studied Yurim's expression carefully, waiting for her anger to settle.
"S-so, um... where exactly are we going right now?"
The car was following a route completely different from the one they'd taken earlier. Yurim said,
"We're buying you clothes."
As if it had been the plan all along. Utterly matter-of-fact.
"What? We're actually going shopping?"
She'd assumed it was just something people said.
***
What resistance is even possible for someone riding in a car? And on top of that, the rain had started coming down in earnest.
The car pulled into a parking lot. At Yurim's command to get out, Yeoncheong set down the shopping bags and climbed out after her.
Yurim had argued, firmly, that Yeoncheong needed at least enough clothes to wear during the school trip. On that point, Yeoncheong actually agreed, so she'd followed along obediently.
"This won't take long, right?"
"How many outfits do you think you're picking out? It'll be quick."
She was wrong.
Having lost her mother at a young age, and with "shopping" amounting to a handful of trips to the hypermarket and department store with her father, Yeoncheong had no way of knowing.
What "quickly" actually meant when a woman said it while shopping.
...Did I misunderstand the meaning of "quickly" this whole time?
Yeoncheong, who had already found the underwear shopping lengthy, could only click her tongue. Yurim, who had looked tired until just moments ago, was visibly gaining energy.
Yeoncheong, meanwhile, grew heavier on her feet as she was dragged from rack to rack.
She had become a dress-up doll. She'd lost count of how many outfits she'd tried on. And with zero results to show for it, it was all the more unbearable.
Yurim, doing the selecting, was having far more fun than Yeoncheong, doing the wearing.
"You're young and pretty, so honestly everything looks good on you."
"Then just buy anything at random. I'm exhausted."
"Two more stores. No — three, and then we decide."
If Yurim let go of her hand, she felt she might collapse right there on the spot. Yurim looked around with such a Yeoncheong in tow.
"Ooh, that skirt's cute. Try it on."
"No."
Strength surged back into Yeoncheong's wilting body. Reined in, Yurim turned to her.
"What's wrong with a skirt? You wear one for your uniform."
"That's a uniform. That's why I wear it."
Underwear was the front line Yeoncheong had been forced to yield, thanks to its sheer necessity. But a skirt wasn't something she strictly had to wear.
In other words, it was the Maginot Line she still held.
A new, hardened resolve flickered in those blue eyes. Yurim apparently judged that even she couldn't push this yet, and let it go quickly.
"Fine. As long as it's not a skirt, we're good?"
"Yes."
Since Yeoncheong was humoring her unfamiliar shopping spree all day long, Yurim conceded a little in return.
True to the promise, they looked through three more stores and bought four or five outfits. Yurim didn't bother hiding her disappointment.
"There were a few more that looked so good on you..."
"We came to buy clothes for the school trip. This is plenty."
As they headed back toward the car, Yurim stopped Yeoncheong.
"I said we're done—"
"Loungewear. What about clothes for around the house? One or two pieces is reasonable, no?"
It was late May now, June would blink by, and once she was back from the school trip it would be mid-June, then July before she knew it.
By then, midsummer.
The tracksuit she wore inside and out was starting to feel warm as it was. Catching a flicker of resistance on Yeoncheong's face, Yurim quickly gave her back a push.
"If you don't like anything, we'll just go home."
So Yeoncheong agreed to browse one last store.
For the first time, Yeoncheong took the lead on the shopping. Light, comfortable clothes for around the house. Here, at least, she had some say in the matter.
"Yeoncheong, how about these?"
She had been examining a tee when she turned her head — and her blue eyes went round.
"You want me to wear those?"
In Yurim's hand hung a pair of dolphin shorts. Short enough that one might suspect the word "pants" had been a typo for "panties."
The sales clerk seized the moment and sidled over.
"Girls these ages love wearing these around the house. The design comes out so clean that they're really popular, too."
"You're either at school or at home anyway. I'm telling you they're comfortable — let's get one pair. My treat."
Yurim had hit the nail on the head, and Yeoncheong's mouth opened, then closed.
Yurim took that heartbeat of deliberating silence as a yes. She already knew Yeoncheong's sizes from trailing after her all day, so there was nothing left to ask.
"Excuse me. Three pairs of these, please."
"Of course. Thank you."
The clerk whisked the items off to the register. Yeoncheong glared at Yurim as ferociously as she could manage.
"I never said I was buying them."
"Hey, stuff like that is something you can only wear at your age. Wear it while you can."
And so the two of them added the dolphin shorts and several comfy tees for home to their haul.
***
Clouds shrouded the sky, rain streaking down. Evening had darkened early for the season.
Yeoncheong had left empty-handed, but she came home with her arms full of shopping bags. She barely managed to open the door and get inside, then flipped on the light.
"Why are you coming in?"
Yurim followed her in and snatched a few of the bags away.
"To help you put things away. And since I'm here, might as well grab dinner too."
"You were lecturing me about elders all day, and now you're asking me for a meal?"
Yurim nodded without a shred of shame, then began tidying the closet as naturally as if it were her own.
"If you were your father, maybe I'd say no, but your cooking is absolutely worth staying for, Yeoncheong."
Yeoncheong let out a small sigh. She couldn't very well turn her away when the woman insisted her cooking was good.
"Let me just change, and then I'll make you something. One moment."
She was looking around for where she'd left her tracksuit when a tracksuit top and a scrap of black fabric came flying at her.
"I threw out those tracksuit pants. Wear this instead."
"What? When did you—"
"When we left earlier."
Yurim peeked her head out, one shopping bag folded under her arm, then picked up another bag and carried it over to the closet.
"I could let the tops slide as fashion, but the pants were beyond help. You looked like some little kid shuffling around in them."
"What?! Why didn't you say anything before throwing them out?!"
Only after Yeoncheong had exploded did Yurim stick her head back out and look at her.
"If you keep wearing things like that, what do you think people will say? That's exactly why I bought you pants to wear at home."
Only then did Yeoncheong register the scrap of fabric in her hand — the meaning of the black dolphin shorts.
"So that's why..."
"Nobody sees what you wear at home. Hurry up and change, then make us dinner."
Yeoncheong vanished, trembling hands clutching the dolphin shorts.
***
Yurim finished the tidying in no time and sat down on the floor to wait for Yeoncheong.
First the blue hair peeked out. Then a pair of eyes the same shade poked around the corner.
Watching Yeoncheong slink out, Yurim thought:
Oh, Yeoncheong. Wearing it like that makes it look even weirder...
Black dolphin shorts, paired with a black tracksuit top several sizes too big.
It was, in a word, the bottomless look.
Apparently bothered by the bare feeling below, Yeoncheong kept tugging the oversized top further down.
It was nothing short of devastating.
Yeoncheong opened the fridge and crouched down.
"Anything's fine, right?"
"Of course. With your skills, Yeoncheong, anything you make is fine."
Yeoncheong grumbled under her breath as she rummaged through the fridge.
The top slid all the way down, covering her backside — but crouching like that, it genuinely looked like she had nothing on underneath at all.
...Maybe I bought something I shouldn't have.
Yurim resolved to buy her a proper pair of sweatpants to wear outside someday.
The first pot on the stove, Yeoncheong began to cook.
Her mother had passed early to illness, and her father was always home late from work — so Yeoncheong's cooking skill had reached a level rarely seen in someone her age.
At first she'd only made ramen for herself. Now she cooked without even glancing at recipes and tried out new dishes regularly.
In the quiet of a house without even a TV, Yurim watched Yeoncheong bustle about and murmured.
"Wow... imagine having a girl like this as a daughter... or a wife..."
Yeoncheong, absorbed in her cooking, turned her head as if she'd been called.
"What was that?"
"Nothing. Forget you heard anything."
Tilting her head, Yeoncheong went back to what she was doing.