Taking It Slow (1)
Leaving that brief farce behind, he arrived safely at the hospital, though his head was still spinning.
Perhaps due to the skewed gender ratio, almost everyone he ran into was female.
Since it was a typical downtown area, there weren't any overly revealing outfits, but it was still a fascinating sight.
If he had to sum it up, they generally overflowed with... athletic beauty?
Going braless seemed to be the norm, a sight usually reserved for the West, and their overall vibe and movement made it clear this was not the Korea of his memories.
Did their muscles develop mostly in their chests?
It was incredibly free-spirited.
As he lost himself in these idle thoughts, a voice called out to him.
"Mr. Moon Saebyeok, please follow me this way."
"Alright."
Guided by the nurse, he arrived at a room that felt surprisingly cozy for a hospital.
The warm wood tones and the soft classical music playing in the background immediately put him at ease.
The doctor, who had been writing something at her desk, looked up with a welcoming smile.
"Mr. Moon Saebyeok, you're finally here."
"Ahaha... I'm a bit late, aren't I?"
She was a classic beauty, with her hair tied back in an elegant ponytail and silver-rimmed glasses that suited her perfectly.
She looked quite young, too. If the school nurse in his original world had looked like her, half the boys in school would have been faking illnesses every day.
"...Is there something on my face?"
"Ahem! No, it's nothing."
She tilted her head, then suddenly widened her eyes.
He wondered how a psychiatrist could have such an expressive face, but he soon found out why.
"You know this is the first time we've actually looked at each other face-to-face, right?"
"Is that so?"
Quickly turning serious, she scribbled something down in her chart, then glided over like the wind to sit on the sofa opposite him.
Mesmerized by her almost supernatural grace, Saebyeok sat down on the sofa as if under a spell.
"This is wonderful news!"
Nodding enthusiastically, she felt more like a friendly older sister next door than a doctor. Perhaps this approachability was one of her professional skills.
From then on, she asked very ordinary questions.
Whether he was eating his meals on time, sleeping well, and so on.
All the while, her hand flew across the chart, scribbling notes at a speed that was quite impressive to watch.
"...Hmm, I think we can reduce your dosage a bit."
"Doctor, I shouldn't hide anything from you, right?"
"Of course! I'd be very grateful if you didn't!"
"Actually..."
Since he had no intention of keeping up these hospital visits forever, he decided to tell her the truth.
He spoke with sincerity, explaining how he was overcoming his issues, that while his sleep was still a bit restless, he wasn't taking the medication anymore, and that he was exercising diligently.
She listened to him with absolute focus, guiding the consultation smoothly.
It's actually quite nice how comfortable this makes me feel.
"Saebyeok, I can definitely see that your condition has improved. However, my medical opinion is that I'd like to keep monitoring you for a bit longer."
"I suppose so. I don't know much about it, but I imagine a complete cure is hard to define when it comes to mental health."
"Indeed, everyone has their own struggles. The only difference is the degree. So if I just told you to 'cheer up'... well, I wouldn't be much of a doctor, would I?"
"Pardon?"
"I want to emphasize that blindly avoiding medication isn't always the right choice. More than anything, my job is to make sure you get healthy."
"Right..."
"Which means you'll have to keep seeing me for a while longer. You were planning on never coming back here, weren't you?"
As expected, one didn't become a doctor by winning a game of milk caps.
She delivered her recommendation with a bright smile, but her resolve was absolute.
Reminds me of Christine...
"On the bright side! I completely agree with reducing your medication. Let's work hard together!"
Seeing her rapidly shifting expressions, he felt she could easily pass for a method actress.
Yet, it was precisely because of this that a doctor who felt like a friendly older sister suited Saebyeok much better than a stiff, formal professional.
Even within the boundaries of a doctor-patient relationship, her genuine care brought him a sense of relief, leaving him with no choice but to nod in agreement.
"Now, shall we schedule your next appointment? Oh, and you can't keep avoiding my calls!"
She crossed her arms and glared at him playfully, which was honestly quite cute.
I'm not usually weak against women... Is it this body's instincts?
It could be a psychological issue engraved in his subconscious, or perhaps he simply had no resistance to her charm.
Either way... today was his defeat.
"Yes, ma'am..."
He would win next time.
As if possessed, he took his prescription and left the hospital under the warm, affectionate send-off of both the nurse and the doctor.
It was a terrifying hospital.
Since he was already out, he decided he might as well visit a hair salon.
Feeling a gentle breeze blow past, he looked around.
Looking at the trees whose leaves were beginning to change color, he realized autumn was fast approaching.
Come to think of it, I didn't even know what season it was...
In novels, protagonists always adapted to their new worlds in a matter of days, but he still felt like a stranger in a strange land.
The crowd walking past him was still overwhelmingly female.
He didn't mind the looks of interest. Even though his childhood had been miserable and his life had ended in a sudden, tragic death, he had once been a celebrity—their emperor.
Still, that's a bit much...
Seeing a man cling tightly to a woman's arm with the gender roles reversed left him feeling conflicted.
He would just have to adapt step by step.
Looking around, he finally spotted a hair salon.
Judging by its fairly large size, it seemed to be a pretty popular spot in the neighborhood.
He was relieved that the men he had passed on the street didn't all have long hair.
What a comfort it was that this wasn't a world where short hair on women and long hair on men was the absolute norm!
Pondering what style would suit him, he pushed open the salon door.
"Welco—gasp."
The receptionist at the counter, the customers getting their hair done, and the stylists all froze in unison.
If they make a mistake with those scissors, someone's going to get hurt.
Is this face really that shocking?
As he tilted his head in confusion, the receptionist at the counter spoke to him hesitantly.
"Excuse me, sir... is everything alright?"
"Pardon? Is there a problem?"
Saebyeok quickly searched through his memories.
Is this not a normal hair salon?
Now that he looked around, the place was packed with women.
Unfortunately, the original Saebyeok's memories were of no help. In his youth, he had only visited the school's attached salon once in a blue moon. Most of the time, he had found even that too overwhelming and had simply cut his own hair.
That explained why his hair was currently such a disaster.
Saebyeok... just what kind of life did you live? Sigh...
Perhaps because his expression had stiffened, the receptionist flinched and began to stammer.
"Ah! No! It's not that men aren't allowed, but most men usually go to male-only salons..."
Ah, so that was it.
He had temporarily forgotten that this world was an extreme environment of all-male kindergartens, all-male elementary schools, all-male middle schools, and all-male high schools.
Since men were such a minority, entering a mixed space meant risking being stared at like an animal in a zoo. It made sense why they avoided it.
But since he was already here, he decided to just push through.
Besides, in his past life, he had long been accustomed to having others take care of these things for him.
He was used to sitting back and letting a professional stylist do their work, and with a face as perfect as his, the specific hairstyle didn't really matter anyway.
"You do men's hair too, right?"
"Pardon? Yes! Yes! Th-then, please follow me this way!"
As he followed the receptionist, he suddenly reached out and grabbed the hand of a stylist who was holding a clump of hair in one hand and was just about to snip it with the other.
"Excuse me, stylist? Relax your hand."
Kim Dayoung, a stylist of six years and single for all twenty-six years of her life, almost screamed at the gentle touch of this strange man.
He was the man who had stolen everyone's attention the moment the door opened.
With skin so pale it was almost translucent, mysterious hazel eyes, and a slender face that exuded a delicate, sickly charm, he was a man who instantly triggered a fierce protective instinct in anyone who looked at him.
He possessed by far the most overwhelming beauty of any real-life man she had ever seen.
And now, that very man had walked up and gently taken her hand.
Wh-wh-what is this? Is he interested in me? What do I do? Is this what a man's touch feels like?
For a girl who had moved to the city from the countryside, his touch was far too lethal.
The customer, who had also been dazed, snapped out of it first and shrieked.
"Hey! You weren't actually going to cut it like that, were you?!"
"Oh, my goodness!"
Kim Dayoung, who had almost given her customer a blunt bob by mistake, thankfully stopped her scissors just in time.
"Excuse me, then."
The man let go of her hand with a soft smile.
Is... is this love?
Watching him walk away with such cool composure, Kim Dayoung felt like her heart was going to explode.
Aside from her father, this was the first time she had ever held a man's hand.
"He's incredibly handsome, isn't he?"
"U-unni. I need to take a moment to breathe."
It was a relief the customer was a regular, otherwise it could have been a disaster. If not for that kind man's gentle intervention, she would have ruined the haircut.
"Wow..."
"His looks are insane."
The other customers stared in awe before suddenly remembering their own current appearances and quickly bowing their heads.
After all, maintaining one's beauty in a salon chair was... difficult.
Especially with wet hair plastered to their heads like seaweed...
Meanwhile, a silent staring contest broke out among the staff.
Hey! You know I'm your senior, right?
Unni, aren't you supposed to do a treatment for that other customer in a bit?
Step aside, you wretches. I am taking charge of this one today!
Director...
In the end, the salon director herself took charge of Saebyeok.
The other stylists could only swallow their tears and yield to authority.
Having roughly guessed the situation, Saebyeok watched as the director approached him.
"How would you like your hair done today, sir?"
When Saebyeok took off his cap, a messy, ragged mop of brown hair was revealed.
The director tried her best to maintain a professional smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched.
Who on earth did this to a face like this?
Barely holding back a scream, her professional pride flared up. Meanwhile, Saebyeok uttered the classic, universal male response.
"Just something that suits me, please."
"Yes! I will absolutely give you a style that suits you perfectly!"
"Thank you. I'll leave it in your hands, Director."
At his smile, which shone brightly even with that disastrous hair, forty-two-year-old Lee Soonja felt her heart flutter like an eighteen-year-old girl.
Leaving his hair to the director, he quietly closed his eyes. Before long, a crowd of women began to gather around him.
Among them were customers who had abandoned their own half-finished haircuts.
Fortunately, Saebyeok didn't open his eyes, and the women simply stared at him endlessly.
As the director of a well-known local salon with award-winning experience abroad, Lee Soonja began snipping with the determination of a lifetime.
A standard dandy cut would be better than anything too experimental. That way, he'll come back.
The messy, ragged hair was gradually trimmed away, revealing more and more of his face.
As his hair grew shorter, another silent battle commenced behind him.
"Surely the director isn't going to wash his hair herself, right?"
"No way. But why do you care? Obviously, I should be the one to wash it."
"You? You always dump that chore on the youngest. Have you no conscience?"
"Stylists, of course I should..."
"The youngest is crossing the line here."
"Sir, could you open your eyes?"
Saebyeok slowly opened his eyes at the director's call, and his mood lifted as he saw his neatly styled hair.
"I like it. Thank you for your hard work."
"Oh, you flatter me! You have such a great look that any style would suit you, but next time, a perm would look even better!"
"Thank you. I'll give it a try next time."
"Then, let's head this way."
The director went so far as to wash Saebyeok's hair herself, drawing intense jealousy from the other stylists.
She conveyed her thoughts with a single look.
If you don't like it, become the director yourselves.
Everyone yielded to her authority, but one person, Kim Dayoung, simply stroked her own right hand.
I'm never washing this hand. Hehe...
The director felt a wave of happiness as she professionally blow-dried his hair.
But all good things must come to an end.
Finishing up with a touch of regret, she handed him her business card with a trembling heart.
"Please visit us again next time."
"I will. See you next time."
Saebyeok took the card and walked out.
Waking up from their sweet daydream, the customers and stylists who had been staring blankly erupted into chaos.
"Unni! Hurry up and apply the neutralizer! It's going to bleach completely white!"
"...Actually, that might be better."
It was said that the salon's regular clientele grew after that day, with more and more women occasionally casting longing glances toward the entrance.