Please, Spare Me!

"P-please, spare me!"

The first day I opened my eyes as a woman, my body paid for it. Whether it was the aftershock of going from man to girl, I suffered plenty.

A pretty face was almost beside the point. The figure was something no ordinary person could even approach. A chest that jutted out in a way a man's never would. One look in the mirror told me this was no average body, and when I dug through my memories, the last measurement I'd taken was a staggering 75H. Add a waist cinched impossibly thin and a line that dropped from the hips all the way down, and I had the kind of figure people would call a leg goddess without a second thought.

In short: the strongest body on earth. And the strongest face to match.

The strongest ma— no. The strongest glamorous beautiful girl.

That was me now.

Of course, big breasts were not all sunshine. My shoulders ached every single day, and I had even had to take my school uniform in for custom tailoring. Whether they had gotten the size wrong or my chest had grown again in the meantime, I could barely fasten the buttons on my shirt one by one. I finally understood, in my bones, why well-endowed women always complained about shopping for clothes.

"S-so... I... I don't really need to diet that much..."

"Jiwoo."

The dance coach's voice cut through the air, ice-cold. Sadly — very, very sadly — the dance coach had an extremely slender figure. The kind of frame where if a friend joked, "You look like a matchstick," she would actually get hurt.

"Y-yes... I mean, yes, Coach!"

"Are you standing there bragging about your chest in front of me?"

"Ah... no? I wasn't bragging. I was just stating a fa—"

It was absolutely not a brag. I only had one life. I had already died once, and I had no desire to do it again — especially not writhing in agony. There was only one move left to me now.

Thud.

I dropped to my knees on the floor and bowed my head.

"P-please, spare me..."

A desperate plea for my life. That was all I had.

"I don't know why you're begging for your life, Jiwoo. Get up. From now on, it looks like you won't be needing rest breaks... Yeah. That's right. You absolutely don't need them. Until I've burned every last bit of fat off that chest of yours, rest is... I'll even give you barely any water. Well? What are you doing? Get up already."

"C-Coach~..."

Her eyes had gone past cold — the light in them had simply vanished. I crawled to her feet and clung to her legs, begging.

"Look at that. You've still got energy to move? And before that... it wasn't just chocolate in your bag. Gummies, snacks, even marshmallows? Today you're going to die and be born again."

"Wai—"

"I refuse your refusal. And..."

The coach gave me a light shove and walked toward the door. I stared blankly, wondering what on earth she was doing.

Click.

A bone-chilling sound rang in my ears.

"Huh...? C-Coach?!"

"Gya—"

KYAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!

Ding.

"Son of a biiiitch..."

It was so unfair I nearly cried at the Status Window floating in front of me. I had survived five full hours of hellish training without dying, and the reward was a measly three stamina points.

"You could've given me more, you cheapskate!"

My voice bounced around the empty practice room.

"Hah... yelling at it alone isn't going to make the Status Window answer. Time to head back."

I braced both arms against the floor and lurched upright on legs that wobbled like a newborn calf's. I barely made it a few steps before I pitched forward.

"Ack!"

I didn't have the strength to twitch a single finger. I lay on my back and stared at the practice-room ceiling. The ventilation still hadn't caught up; heat clung to the tiles overhead. It was almost impressive that most of that heat was steam made from my own sweat.

"I can't just lie here."

For the future. Toward my goal. I didn't have time to stop. I crawled, inch by inch, until I reached the bag in the corner, fished out my phone, and sent Kang Ho-yeon a message. Training was over. Come pick me up.

I had no intention of going home. The place the agency had found for me was a house I used alone. If it had been a home I shared with my parents, I would have gone straight back — but I had already felt the warmth of a real house, and I did not want to walk into a lonely, cold one.

Bzzz.

A reply came in less than a minute. Had she been holding her phone?

I sent those two letters, set the phone down, and my stamina hit absolute zero. I passed out.

A silent practice room. How much time slipped by?

Someone appeared at the entrance.

Clack.

The sound of the doorknob turning yanked me upright as if I had never been unconscious at all.

What time is it...?

I checked my phone. I had been out for about ten minutes.

Who... is that?

If it were Kang Ho-yeon, she would have a key to the practice room.

Clack-clack-clack.

The knob just kept turning, and I tensed without meaning to.

"W-who's there?"

The fear in my own voice startled me.

"Ah..."

A man's voice from the other side of the door. Something about it felt familiar and off at the same time.

What is that?

I eased myself up and approached the door on quiet feet. I had no weapon in my hands. If this was a thief, what then? There was no way I could beat someone who had already slipped past the agency's security in my current state. I wanted to hide in a corner as deep as I could, but I had already spoken, so whoever it was already knew where I was.

Don't provoke them. Whatever you do...

Then—

Click.

A key turned in the lock. The door creaked open, and the thief stepped into the practice room.

The lights snapped on all at once.

"Gyaaah—"

"Jiwoo. What are you doing in here?"

"...Huh?"

That same voice — familiar and strangely off — was right beside me. I dropped the defensive cradle of my arms around my head and looked at the thief.

"C-CEO? Why are you...?"

"That's my line. I got a report that practice ended a while ago. What were you doing?"

"That's... I passed out for a second..."

"Passed out?"

"N-no, that isn't—! I-I was sleepy, so I closed my eyes for a second and, well... haha."

I plastered on an awkward laugh and wriggled off the hook. If the story that I had fainted from exhaustion got out, Jo Kyuhyun would build me an even harsher program than this. That, I had to stop.

"It's already late. Go home."

"No. I caught a little sleep just now, so I'm fine. I'll head to the recording studio. I already told Hoyeon unnie."

"Kang Ho-yeon?"

Jo Kyuhyun frowned, turning it over, then placed a call somewhere.

The call ended.

"Was that... Hoyeon unnie just now?"

"Yeah. It's late, so we'll stop by the studio, practice for a bit, and then I'll take you home."

"You don't have to. I can walk by myself."

From the agency to the house was only a thirty-minute walk. At my pace it would take closer to an hour, but if I took it slow I would get there.

"No. It's far too late. And at your speed you'd be arriving at dawn. Even if the house is well secured, that's too dangerous."

Jo Kyuhyun shut it down without a crack. In the end I practiced the upcoming weekend's project finals with him in the recording studio, then was delivered home in his car.

"It's late. Don't go thinking about anything else. Just sleep."

"Yeees~"

Drowsiness was already dragging my answers out of shape.

"Status Window."

Unlike two months ago, my stamina had climbed a lot. At this rate, two weeks would be enough to hit one hundred.

"Until then. Fight...ing..."

Thump.

The hand I had thrust toward the ceiling lost its war with sleep and dropped onto my chest.

"Hnkhh..."

The next day.

Before school, I did a morning workout with Bae Ji-hyun — light, and thorough.

"Jiwoo? You okay?"

"I-I'm... fine..."

The morning after being thoroughly wrecked by hell training, I went to school. I had already sat through these lessons once in my previous life, so keeping up with the material was no trouble. Today, as always, a parade of kids hovered at the front of the class and got chased off by the teacher, and at last after-school arrived.

"Wooseok! Let's go, then!"

"Uh... yeah. Let's go."

I was bursting with energy. Choi Wooseok's face, by contrast, was nothing but sleep. Not that I couldn't understand it. From first period through seventh, lunch excluded, he had slept the entire day.

"If you keep sleeping like that, you're going to bomb the midterms."

"...Huh? What are you talking about? Our school doesn't even have midterms?"

"...What?"

What kind of bullshit was that?

A dark room, lit only by a soft wash of lamps. Inside it, only one person was having a good time: the man they called the godfather of Korean cinema, Director Shin Yo-han.

Shin Yo-han alone laughed and talked and drank as if the gathering existed for him. In the seat beside him, Han Mi-young wore a short dress cut deep across the chest and poured his drinks with a smile that never reached her eyes.

"Khhaaah!"

He knocked back the glass in one clean swallow, beamed, and let his hand wander lower.

"Th-that's enough..."

Han Mi-young squeezed her eyes shut and endured Shin Yo-han's hands.

"What did you just say?"

"N-nothing..."

"See, drinks only taste right when a woman pours them. Don't they, President Kim?"

"That's right! Everything Director Shin says is exactly right! Mi-young. Our director's glass is empty. Pour him another."

"Y-yes... h-here, Director... please take my drink..."

The bottle tipped. Liquor spilled into the glass.

"That's enough, that's enough. You'll waste good liquor at this rate. Still... I like a drink just fine like this, but I like valley wine too."

Until a moment ago there had only been a little touching. Now he was propositioning her outright. Han Mi-young swallowed tears that were one breath from breaking and stood up from her seat.

"I... need the restroom for a moment..."

"The restroom...? At this timing? You're not saying you don't want to, are you?"

"Haha! Of course not. As if she'd refuse Director Shin. She must really need to go. Look at her face. You can tell she's been holding it in this whole time!"

At Kim Kang-mo's words, Shin Yo-han studied Han Mi-young's face. Whether it was true or not, her whole body — face included — was trembling.

"Fine. Go and come back quick. I hate it when the drinks stop. If you want to be in this, you know what that means."

Tap. Tap.

Shin Yo-han flicked the bundle of papers sitting on the table.

"I-I'll ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠be right back."

Han Mi-young clenched her fists, bowed her head, and stepped out of the room.

The restroom? She didn't need it at all. She only wanted to escape, even for a second.

"Haa... why am I doing this... It's all... because of that bitch."

If she hadn't been kicked off the drama, she would never have had to do filthy things in a place like this. Han Mi-young pictured the papers Shin Yo-han had just tapped.

If I can just get into this movie... my name and my price will go up. Then I take what I can take and I leave.

She flushed a toilet she hadn't used, came out, washed her hands, and then—

"Hhk... hh..."

A droplet struck the water she had pooled in the sink.

"I... I can't do this anymore..."