Transformation (2)
Did I hear that right? She wants my torn-up rags? Why the hell would she? If I said use it as a rag, that ojikom-loving sword girl might stab me with her yandere blade.
"No way, right?"
"Why not?"
"Even if you're throwing it out, how can you give someone else's—especially some guy's—torn-up clothes to another person? Just bag up the trash clothes."
Thinking about it, leaving it with someone else feels weird too. There's already a girl right here dying to take my clothes off me. Better to handle it myself than trust it to strangers who've worn it before. It's the safest bet.
"You're too much."
"What do you...?"
Is it crazy to give away someone else's worn clothes? Even in this flipped world, normal clothes might be fine to hand off, but who wants rags not even good enough for cleaning? That's the weird part. Nah... even normal clothes, if a guy's worn them, these women might bury their noses in 'em. Carrying my own shit around might actually be the smart move. I'll deal with it properly later.
With that half-assed inspection, I grabbed a black hoodie and jeans. Wanted to browse more and stock up on extras, but wandering alone out there? Nah. Time to head back quick. I turned to leave for the next spot.
"Oppa, where to now?"
"Why're you even following me?"
Seo-ah started tailing me when I headed to my booked men's hair salon. A bit annoying, sure, but better than solo in this world. Outside, every eye's on me—women only. Me, a guy, strolling alone? Like parading through starving lionesses after a month without meat. At least here I've got a guard—friend of a friend. Still... better safe. I texted Jung-ah first.
I sent it phrased so she'd get it in one go. Busy with her stream? No read receipt yet. Eh, she'll see it when she's done and reply.
Pocketed the phone and eyed Seo-ah.
"Ready to go now?"
"Yeah... safer with company than solo."
I waved her along. She seemed thrilled, stepping out with me from the shop. Salon next.
"Hungry."
Glancing at the time—lunch hour closing in. Forgot how empty my gut's been lately? This bastard used to stay quiet on one meal a day, now it howls nonstop.
"Oppa hungry?"
"Yeah... starving a bit."
"Wanna scout a restaurant? Know a few spots, but not sure if you'd like 'em."
"What kinda places?"
"Donkatsu house okay?"
A guy hating pork cutlet? Seo-ah's got jokes. Even in a male-scarce world, some things don't change. Gukbap's man's food, donkatsu's foreign man's grub. Korean dudes die without pork stir-fry, gukbap, cutlets. She thinks I might not like it?
"More like I can't live without it."
"Huh?"
"Donkatsu? Hate it? Shit, I crave it when it's gone."
Back begging, scraped 6,000 won for gukbap once. 10,000+ won cutlet? Felt like a feast. She's offering the real deal—hell yeah, thanks and let's go.
"Ah... follow me then, I'll guide you."
"Okay."
I trailed her lead to the donkatsu joint, nice and slow. Heh... first proper knife work in years.
**
We headed to the donkatsu spot she recommended. En route, eyes everywhere—some tried hitting on me despite her there, but she shut 'em down quick. Jung-ah's the type to snap openly and say no; Seo-ah just glares short, then ghosts.
"You... get scary when mad, huh?"
"Was I scary?"
"Nah, not you—earlier, that lady hounding for your number."
First meet, her face was all smiles; now pissed, total shift. Kinda shocking how much a face can change... but I've seen two-faced folks. Charity shoots end with "get lost" vibes aplenty.
Chatted like that for 10 minutes with Seo-ah. Then the cutlet hit the table.
Wanna dance for joy. How long since real donkatsu? She ordered some Japanese-style tonkatsu-looking thing. Real cutlet's sliced with fork and knife... Not that I've mastered knives. Loved 'em since kid—last meal before folks ditched me in the night was cutlet. Problem: never learned proper knife skills. How to cut this fancy? Wanna look cool for her... guess not.
Ended up gripping the knife like a dagger, hacking awkwardly.
"Oppa... can't use a knife?"
"...Love cutlet, but never handled a knife."
She smirked at my grip, snatched my plate. Stealing it? Nah—pro moves, sliced it perfect.
"Here, guys usually get this service at places like this."
"Cool, thanks anyway."
First time playing "normal guy" in front of Seo-ah this world. Getting pampered ain't bad.
After, simple meal chat—I checked job listings on my phone, hellbent on work.
"Oppa, whatcha looking at?"
"Gigs."
"Huh? Why work? You get the Male Support Fund."
"That... sigh... yeah."
Explained the fund slow to her. Felt good getting mine today. Donate once a month for that cash? Beggar me had no reason to hate it. At first, thrilled.
"Donation means someone's using it, right?"
"Huh?"
"Hate that... fund's nice, but need a job too."
Donating means some chick used my sperm. District office mentioned name registration—learned then. World flipped, sure, but no hermaphrodites. Imagine a kid from my donation hunting me down: "Daddy!" Fuck, responsibility sans pleasure. I'd bite my tongue and die. Skipped registration, but to minimize drama, yeah. I want kids from love. So fund donations? Only dire cash crunches.
Chat wrapped, salon time.
"Gotta head out soon—done eating?"
"Yup! Be right back, paying."
Meal over, she stood to pay. Used to mooch, but that was broke days. Got cash now. Plus, she's Jung-ah's pal... pay back a favor?
"Nah, my treat."
"Huh? No... guys don't pay."
"Wanna look cool this once. Thanks? Buy me coffee."
"Ah... sure."
Headed to counter, paid cash.
"Okay... paid... a guy paying?"
"Yeah?"
"N-no, nothing. First time seeing it..."
Guys here poorer than me? Rare males or not, one pay shouldn't shock. Staff's reaction hilarious.
Paid up, 10 minutes spare—grabbed to-go coffee per my say. Sipped iced Americano from her, waiting for salon.
"You okay? Eat something bad?"
"Huh? Oh... yeah?"
"Nah... nothing."
Seconds ago grinning ear-to-ear, now Seo-ah's face flushed. Shy look... Did I fuck up outside today?