This Isn't How It Was Supposed to Go
This isn't right...
Yeoncheong sat on the bed, looking up at her friends as they loomed over her, thinking to herself, Is this how it's supposed to go?
A door only she knew the password to had swung open without warning, her friends had come barging in, and now they were the ones getting angry over a misunderstanding they'd invented themselves. She couldn't even remember what she'd had for dinner.
From their point of view, of course, Yeoncheong had vanished without a word, stopped showing up to school, and ignored every single message. Even when Suyeon had paced back and forth outside her door, she'd pretended not to notice.
Huh? Am I... actually the bad guy here?
As she turned each detail over in her mind, the thought that she deserved a scolding flickered through Yeoncheong's head.
Suyeon looked down at her friend, who sat there with her mouth clamped shut, staring blankly into space.
"Clamping your mouth shut fixes everything, does it?"
A barbed tone. It made Yeoncheong flinch, right in the middle of coming to terms with her own fault.
"I— I mean..."
She felt she had to say something.
Haltingly, tilting her head this way and that, Yeoncheong launched into a rambling, disorganized account of everything.
But the situation was just as bewildering for her friends as it was for her. Hasol and Nayun shot warning glances from the sidelines — we came here to talk, what is she doing? Suyeon felt much the same, though she couldn't let it show with Yeoncheong right in front of her.
She'd worried herself sick, only to find her friend perfectly fine and calmly preparing dinner — and in that instant of relief curdling into irritation, Suyeon had lashed out. She'd acted in the heat of the moment without any plan for how to walk the situation back.
"Skipping school out of nowhere, ignoring my calls, and also..."
Meanwhile, Yeoncheong was reciting her misdeeds one by one, listing whatever came to mind. Her voice had sunk to the floor. The moment her head bowed low, Hasol and Nayun leaned together on the bed and whispered.
"Hey! Weren't we supposed to come comfort her?"
"What do we do about this atmosphere?"
They'd come to deliver their honest feelings — not to rake her over the coals. But with the air turning into some kind of interrogation, even the plush bed she sat on felt like a bed of nails.
Caught between blame flying at her from both sides, Suyeon scrambled to defend herself.
"What? I didn't know it would turn out like this!"
"You're the one who did this. Fix it, and fast."
Nayun jabbed her with her shoulder, urging a resolution.
And while the three friends jostled and hissed at each other over whose job it was —
Yeoncheong, with no one telling her to stop, dredged up memories reaching all the way back to the past.
But... atmosphere shapes emotion.
Kneeling there like a criminal at her own trial, reeling off her sins, Yeoncheong felt the weight begin to settle on her heart.
The truth was, becoming a woman hadn't been her choice. There had been terrible days — but she'd fought to live, and she'd worked hard to adapt to high school life, in her own way.
The guilt manufactured by the atmosphere tangled messily with the injustice she'd been carrying, and something else seeped out from underneath.
Sorrow.
Have I really done something this wrong?
Moisture crept into her voice, and she began to sniffle.
The three friends, busy bickering among themselves, hadn't noticed a thing.
"I kept it from you all this time... I'm really sorry."
Only when she was on the verge of tears did Yeoncheong finally finish her apology and bow her head deep.
"Uh... huh?"
They hadn't even been listening properly, and somehow the story was already over — and there was Yeoncheong, wearing the face of a condemned criminal, apologizing.
Only then did Suyeon, Hasol, and Nayun's eyes dart around as they scrambled to catch up with what was happening.
Yeoncheong staggered to her feet, her legs numb from kneeling, and turned away. She plucked a tissue from the pack sitting nearby, dabbed at her eyes, and said,
"Sorry. I can't see you out. Get home safe."
The three friends, caught off guard, found themselves herded all the way to the entrance.
The situation had gotten openly, unmistakably worse.
Suyeon looked at her friends. From Nayun and Hasol radiated a silent promise: if you don't fix this, you're dead.
Yeoncheong had her back turned, heading for the bathroom. Suyeon caught her hand.
"...What?"
Those blue eyes looked at Suyeon as if to say, what more could there possibly be?
"Um... it's just..."
Uncharacteristically flustered, Suyeon's eyes darted every which way. She racked her brain for the words that could salvage this, but nothing came.
Those blue eyes, glistening with sorrow. Down their clear surface, the emotion called sadness traveled straight to her.
It was one of those pages of youth where feelings swing wild — and her friend looked ready to burst into tears at any moment, all because of words that had started with her own mouth.
As if guilt were contagious, Suyeon's own vision slowly began to blur.
And then she did exactly what her twin Siyeon had told her to do.
She barreled into Yeoncheong and dove for the bed.
Yeoncheong, tears withdrawn, blinked at her for a moment with an expression that said what is wrong with you. Suyeon lifted her head, her voice gone thick and wobbly.
"Waaah! I'm the one who's sorry!"
"Huh?"
The words were half-swallowed by sobs, but the sorry came through loud and clear.
Hasol leapt onto the bed next, throwing both arms wide to wrap around the two of them.
"We came to tell you to come back to school."
"Wh-what?"
Trying to parse the situation, Yeoncheong's blue eyes darted back and forth in a frenzy.
Hasol shot Nayun a look: and what do you think you're doing?
Nayun, scratching her cheek and hemming and hawing, finally asked Yeoncheong:
"This bed — it'll hold four, right?"
"No— wait a second!"
It was phrased as a question, but no answer was coming.
Nayun took a step or two back, then launched herself at the bed.
In an instant, pinned under all three, Yeoncheong's lips trembled.
"You awful, awful girls..."
The words she'd wanted to hear, tucked away and hidden in some corner of her heart. The tension seemed to snap all at once, and her tear ducts welled up all over again.
"But did you have to storm in like a bunch of raiderssss?"
It was quite a while later before the sea of girls' tears finally subsided.
"You're kidding me. Why are you the one crying?"
"She tracked me down after seeing my SNS..."
"You told me it wasn't your fault, but you were thinking that the whole time?"
At Yeoncheong's words, the friends beside her snorted with laughter.
Between Yeoncheong and the others — who had already heard most of the story from Chairwoman Yurim — there wasn't much left that needed saying.
Just a short, honest conversation, laying their feelings bare.
And after weeks of shuttering herself up alone at home, that — plus warm hands patting her back, fingers combing through her hair — was enough.
When those three sets of hands started to get embarrassing, Yeoncheong squirmed.
"Okay, you can stop now..."
"You skipped school whenever you felt like it. We can do whatever we feel like too, can't we?"
At Hasol's retort, Yeoncheong let out a low groan.
Amid the light laughter of friends whose eyes were still red, Yeoncheong forced her mouth open.
"But I was a man until earlier this year... is this really okay?"
It was a question Hasol, Nayun, and the others had all wrestled with in their own time — but one they'd already finished wrestling with.
Hasol glanced sideways at Suyeon.
"Suyeon can answer that one."
Exactly as her friends expected, Suyeon repeated her words from back then without changing a single syllable.
"The whole time I was with you, Yeoncheong, I was happy. And I want to keep being happy with you from now on. So however it takes, I'm going to get close to you again."
"Hngh..."
Yeoncheong turned her face away from the mortifying words.
But hemmed in by her friends on every side, there was nowhere for her to run.
Nayun giggled at the sight of her burning-red face.
"You're not about to cry again, are you?"
"Stop teasing me..."
Hasol spoke to the still-hesitant Yeoncheong.
"Besides, back when you told us you used to be a man — if you'd said it was nonsense, we'd have believed you on the spot. All of us."
"Why?"
"Hmm... let's just say your girl-power levels are off the charts?"
Apparently she couldn't just let that one slide, because Yeoncheong shoved her friends' hands away and shot to her feet.
"Excuse me?"
Folding down her fingers one by one, she enumerated every point she'd scored.
"I'm decent at basketball and sports. There was the karaoke thing. The Sports Festival. That time with the pork cutlet... Look! There were plenty of moments where I was pretty manly, okay?"
"Ah..."
Only then did her friends nod along, recalling those incidents. And yet the weird expressions on their faces didn't budge.
The three of them exchanged glances and smiled awkwardly, each trying to pass the task to someone else. In the end, it was Hasol who bit the bullet.
"Yeoncheong... you do know that usually, the moment you're the one bragging about it, it's an automatic fail, right?"
Suyeon, ever perceptive, tried to console their shell-shocked friend.
"I mean... maybe it's just because you're surrounded by nothing but girls? You got dyed fast. Even so, you've adapted quicker than anyone could expect, honestly..."
But then Nayun tossed in one more remark.
"Yeoncheong, you've got real talent as a woman."
And that was the final blow.
Nayun waved her hand in front of Yeoncheong's frozen face.
Yeoncheong didn't move for a good long while, as if she'd turned to stone.
With old grievances aired and the hour growing far too late, the friends began to get up one by one.
"If you're not at school tomorrow, you're dead."
"I know. I'll leave early."
"You remember what you promised just now?"
As she saw Nayun and Hasol out, trading small talk, Suyeon suddenly seemed to remember something and pulled out her phone.
"Yeoncheong, let's take a photo."
"Huh?"
"So I can let Seoha know you're alive."
None of the three had told Yeoncheong exactly where Seoha had gone — no good could come of letting that slip.
Yeoncheong nodded obediently and stood still, as if to say hurry up and take it.
But Suyeon stroked her chin, apparently unsatisfied.
"Something's missing. Change your pose... let's do it in front of a cleaner wall."
"What? That's a hassle. Just take it. Don't come over! Just take the picture!"
No one was listening to a word Yeoncheong said.
Inside the car on the way home, Seoha sank into the seat, checked Suyeon's message, and let out a small laugh.
"Driver, could we make a stop on the way?"
"Of course. Where to, miss?"
"A friend's place, near the school."
A stark, barren backdrop, like something out of a mugshot.
On her knees, both arms raised in surrender — a pose of formal punishment. Judging from the aggrieved eyes cast downward and the lips jutting out in a pout, it was definitely not a photo she'd volunteered for.
Yeoncheong yawned, having finally finished the long-delayed dishes and brushed her teeth.
I'm wiped out.
Maybe it was all that crying, but even though she'd done nothing but stay home, her whole body felt heavy.
She'd promised to leave early tomorrow, so she was just thinking about calling it a night when the intercom rang.
Did somebody leave something behind? She opened the door, scanning the entryway.
At the knock, she'd opened up without checking — and froze.
"Oh, um... did you leave something beh— Seoha?"
Because standing in front of her was the last person she'd expected.
"You opened the door without even checking who it was?"
"No, I just figured the girls forgot something..."
Yeoncheong told her to come in and stepped aside to let her pass. But Seoha, taking in the weariness etched across Yeoncheong's face, shook her head.
Instead, she spread her arms wide. And then squeezed Yeoncheong in a tight hug. A slight difference in height — the way it worked out, Seoha ended up nestled against Yeoncheong's chest.
At the sudden closeness, Yeoncheong's two hands lost all sense of where to go.
Both palms hovering uselessly in the air. From within her arms, Seoha murmured,
"I had a really rough day today. Just let me stay like this for a minute."
The hands that had been idling in midair came down and patted Seoha's back — the same way her friends had done for her when they came crashing in today.
"You've been through a lot. And thank you. For coming to find me."
"I should. Things were hard without you."
Seoha rose slightly onto her toes, bringing their eyes level.
"So I've decided to make it official."
"Huh?"
A breath away from touching. Maybe she felt something shift, because Yeoncheong leaned her head back a little.
But Seoha's hand had already climbed up her back and caught her by the hair. The arm that moved too late was caught and pinned by Seoha's other hand.
Yeongcheong's shoulders, rising of their own accord, instinctively foresaw what was coming and went rigid with tension. Seoha leaned in toward her frozen form, and —
With a soft mwah, Seoha pulled back, wearing an utterly satisfied expression.
"This much is fine, right? Suyeon already claimed your first night's sleep, after all."
She waved and vanished down the hall in an instant. The door swung slowly shut, leaving Yeoncheong standing there, utterly alone.
Yeoncheong touched her lips and blinked.
It felt like checking whether what had just happened was real.
When she felt the dampness Seoha had left behind on her dry lips, Yeoncheong finally understood: this was real.
Her face burned. She scooped up cold water in both hands and pressed them to her cheeks.
It was a moment brief enough that anyone else would call it nothing more than lips brushing. But for Yeoncheong, it was the first kiss of her life.
She'd already been nervous about going back to school after so long — and now, on top of everything, she had one more reason to lose sleep.