Chapter 8
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 8
Chapter Title: Not Having Clothes to Wear Isn't an Excuse
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Hot water cascaded over my shoulders.
The shower's roar filled the cramped bathroom.
The water streaming down my nape was just a touch too hot. But that heat wrapped around my body in a strangely pleasant way.
Steam quickly clouded the bathroom.
Droplets beaded on the cold tile walls, and the mirror above the sink had already fogged over white and opaque.
I wiped the water from my face with wet palms and let out a quiet breath.
"Hoo..."
Drying off this body was starting to feel routine now.
Every time I rubbed to lather up, my fingertips traced soft curves.
Even the empty space between my legs—I wiped it down without hesitation now.
It used to make me jump at the slightest touch, my face flushing red. But repetition dulls even that.
Next up: washing my hair.
I reached for the shampoo bottle.
Plip, plip—
One pump used to be enough for my short hair. Now it took two.
Back then, a dab in my palm and a quick scrub got the job done.
These days, I needed this much just to work up a decent lather across all my hair.
Each pass through my hair released an artificial fruit scent that stung my nose.
I swept my fingers through the strands.
As I rinsed, I felt the wet locks falling against my shoulders.
I finished showering and opened the bathroom door. Cold living room air rushed in.
I roughly dried off with one towel.
Water still dripped from my wet hair.
The already damp towel couldn't handle it all.
But using two felt too extravagant.
Every step left dark wet footprints staining the floor mat.
I grabbed the hairdryer.
Vrrr— The mechanical whine assaulted my eardrums.
Even after ages of drying, moisture lingered between my fingers.
Only when my arms went numb did my hair finally fluff up, spilling softly over my shoulders.
I powered on the computer like always.
The fan whirred from the tower, and the monitor lit up.
Then I slipped into the new pajamas I'd bought.
No need to roll up sleeves for the keyboard anymore.
My routine had mostly snapped back to the old one—pre-body-swap.
My daily life hadn't shifted an inch, even after the change.
If anything, I'd stopped thinking about job hunting altogether, using the gender swap as an excuse.
My clear head lately might be thanks to that.
I jammed earbuds into my ears. The familiar Death Code connect tone chimed, followed by Si-woo's voice.
"You coming in now?"
"Yeah... something like that."
I replied offhandedly and moved the mouse.
Same call, same game, same dumb jokes as always.
Flashy graphics flickered across the monitor.
Game over. The results screen faded, leaving silence.
Seizing the lull, Si-woo spoke up in a suddenly serious tone.
"Hey, have you told your parents yet?"
Tension gripped my fingertips on the mouse.
"No... not yet."
"So what about graduation? It's in two weeks."
"I know that, but..."
Graduation.
Time had marched on mercilessly since I'd holed up in this room right after fourth-year second semester ended.
The deadline I'd been dodging was now right in front of me.
College graduation. Mom and Dad were definitely coming up for it.
Regular parents eager to see their son in a cap and gown.
But they'd face a daughter instead. And I might not even wear the cap.
"Anyway, why'd you cry like that back then? Actual female hormones kick in or something?"
I trailed off, dodging the topic, so Si-woo tossed it out to lighten the mood.
My face heated up instantly.
"I dunno, can't you just forget it...? Ah, gotcha. Let's game."
Click—
I clicked loudly to change the subject, but Si-woo pressed on relentlessly.
"Can't forget it. First time seeing you cry like that."
"Wanna die? For real...?"
"First time seeing you cry, first time in my life making a girl cry right in front of me. Freaked me out. Uh, that sounded weird, huh?"
I let out a deep sigh instead of answering his faux-serious joke.
"You know how freaked out I was? Not just you. Sure, you were the main one panicking, but cut me some slack too."
"Yeah... fair enough..."
"Friend suddenly turns girl and bawls in front of me—no clue how to react."
"Okay, got it! Drop the crying talk!"
I clammed up, out of retorts. He was right, thinking back.
"So? You doing better now?"
"...Yeah. Talking it out helps a bit."
"See? No point stewing alone. Gotta see it from other angles sometimes."
Si-woo paused, then continued.
"That's why... I've been thinking, so I'm asking."
His uncharacteristically hesitant voice put me on edge.
"What?"
Silence stretched. I heard him take a deep breath before he went on.
"How do you want me to treat you?"
"Huh?"
"Like, same as before? Or since your body's... you know, should I watch my words more?"
My answer was obvious.
"Just treat me like you are now."
Si-woo snorted at that.
"Got it, confirmed. Same rough treatment? No crying about it later?"
"Not crying anymore, you psycho."
We traded a few laughs, but his tone grew heavy again.
"No, seriously. What about your parents?"
"..."
"They're coming for graduation, right? Less than two weeks left. You gonna show up that day and go 'It's me, Mom'?"
His words hit like punches. No more delaying.
Would it shock them like their son was dead? Or just that he became a daughter?
"Guess I'll go see them in person... before graduation."
Either way, in two weeks, I couldn't hide in this room anymore.
But first, something else.
Something trivial, but tough for me.
"...I need practice."
"What?"
"Going outside. Practice stepping beyond the front door."
My voice trembled faintly.
"What're you talking about? How'd you take out the trash then? No bags piling up inside."
"Snuck out at two a.m.... That count as going out? For me, outings are national emergencies—prep starts a week early, a month at most."
"...Just open the door and go. What's the problem?"
Si-woo sounded baffled. How to explain my deep-seated dread to this guy?
"Listen up. Once an outing's scheduled, first check the weather. Rain's the worst—extra baggage with an umbrella. If it's decent, map the route and run infinite sims."
I inhaled.
"Which subway exit, which bus, backup stops if I miss, if it's across the street—all that to feel okay—"
"Ah. Okay."
"And the day before! When I least wanna go. 'Should've canceled...' But canceling then's impossible. Sometimes I throw out a 'not feeling well' excuse when it's really unbearable..."
Si-woo, who'd been half-listening, cut me off sharp.
"Wait. So last New Year's, when you bailed last minute—"
"Yeah... didn't wanna go..."
He went quiet. Probably wearing that dumbfounded look.
"Anyway, pointless outings have no meaning for me..."
"Fine, got it. Hate aimless trips? Pick a destination."
"Where? Me? Like this? Nowhere to go."
"Come to my place. One subway stop."
"Ah... that might be..."
"I'll buy food."
My ears perked. I asked cautiously.
"Wait... gotta pay that back later? Adding to the debt?"
"That hurts. Friend—nah, friend for whom outings are state affairs—gracing my humble abode? Least I can do."
"...For real? No joke?"
"Yeah. You coming or not?"
"Mm... fine, I'll go..."
"Good. When?"
"Ah, by when...?"
"Tomorrow."
"...Tomorrow? Dude, tomorrow's too soon...! I just said, minimum a week prep...!"
"I'll wipe 100,000 won off your debt."
"...What time tomorrow? Lunch? Or early morning?"
My reply was lightning-fast.
"Lunch, dinner, whenever. Text when you arrive."
"Got it... Lunch. Won't be late."
We bantered nonsense a bit longer, then I ended the Death Code call.
I checked tomorrow's weather.
[Tomorrow: 90% chance of precipitation starting morning, rain]
"Aaaah!"
I flung myself onto the bed, burying my face in the pillow.
'Why does it have to be a rainy day—!'