Because I Like Him. I Can't Hate Him.

"Come eat…"

"Ah. Yeah."

I'd been so reluctant to head for the bedroom that I'd almost just slept on the sofa — but luckily, he pulled me in. If I'd slept on that sofa, I probably would have cried.

Whether it was exhaustion that knocked me out early, or simply that I'd gone to bed sooner than usual, I woke up even earlier than normal. I got up quietly and started making breakfast.

Rolled omelets are what you'd call an intermediate-level egg dish. For some reason, most people either scramble their eggs or just keep cooking the underside on low heat so they can eat a soft yolk. A rolled omelet only takes a couple of failed attempts before you get the hang of it — that's why it's intermediate.

I rolled the omelet and pulled out yesterday's leftover side dishes. Heat what needs heating; leave the kimchi alone.

He likes spicy stir-fried pork, too…

Ugh. I want to call him oppa.

I dumped everything into the pan the moment the underside of the eggs had just set, as if taking my frustration out on them. It wasn't because I was too lazy to cook them separately. Think rolled omelet meets spicy pork kimbap… that kind of thing.

"Haa…"

Yes. Even like this, I still like him. If I hadn't liked him — if my feelings had truly gone cold — it wouldn't have been the pork that left this house. It would have been me.

What a crazy bitch. Or crazy bastard? No, that's not right. Anyone looking at me would see a pitiful, fragile little beauty who's just been dumped.

"You're up early."

"Ah. Yes."

Even if I liked him, I couldn't manage the same love-soaked tone I'd had yesterday. He'd rejected me, and I'd decided to approach him gradually, slowly — so I might have come off a little lukewarm. But for me, this was the best I could do.

Maybe I've forgotten how to talk like a guy. I could have just said, "Oh, hyung, you're up? Come eat~" and left it at that.

Hmm. No, I haven't forgotten. I just don't want to. My brain is drunk on love dopamine.

My chest had fluttered warm; a tingling had wrapped my whole body. I'd thrown myself into dressing up and pouring love into the food without a second thought, all so I could make him smile.

And so I had no love left. I hadn't received any back. Or maybe I had, just… a little less than I'd hoped.

"Have a… good day."

"Yeah."

I was crushingly lonely, desolate, and sad. I'd brought this on myself, and I regretted it. I regretted it so much.

I should have judged the situation better. My sincerity just overflowed.

"…Ah."

I forgot to iron his suit.

"Hmm? Did you fight with your girlfriend?"

"Uh… no… wait, I told you she's not my girlfriend."

"Mm. You fought."

"We fought."

"Suhan, you must've been in the wrong. Apologize."

I had no idea how they'd picked up on the slight friction between Jiwoo and me… but breakfast had still been good. She did seem a little sulky, though.

"She'll come around… she's always been like this."

"That's how people break up."

"There he goes again, putting the ring on and taking it off. Honestly, even a handsome guy can't hold on to a woman."

"Uh… Team Lead. Assistant Manager? And… everyone else, maybe get back to work…"

I shooed off the crowd that had somehow gathered around me. Why was everyone so curious about my business?

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Whatever her personality is, just soothe her properly. Unless… you're the type who seems nice on the outside but treats women roughly at home…"

The carefully worded, wildly misleading comment from beside me made my head start to ache.

"Haa…"

Even strange misunderstandings were cropping up now. Was this really right? Had I really done that much wrong?

Well… I suppose I could have. I did run away, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠after all.

She's ridiculously cute and pretty, but… still… ha. I'm going crazy. How am I supposed to explain this?

But… but Jiwoo was a man.

The Jiwoo of now had turned completely into a woman within a matter of days — calling me oppa, the clothes, everything. She looked so thoroughly like a girl that something about it just felt off.

It simply felt like living with a woman.

I'd thought nothing had changed, but plenty had. Noticeably so.

Uncomfortable… was that the word? Of course it was uncomfortable. For both of us.

A man and a young woman living together.

I was nearly thirty, and Jiwoo had only just finished military service… the military… right.

Maybe I could get Jiwoo back to being a man the way he used to be — with a little military spirit.

"I've got a great idea."

A way to turn Jiwoo back into the Jiwoo from before he became a woman. It wasn't perfect, but it was a lead I could grab onto — a real stroke of inspiration.

"So… I'm trying to go back to normal…"

Hyung was different from other people. Of course people were different from one another, but who runs away when someone's seducing them?

Normally it should have gone something like, Ah, whatever. You're the one who started this, so I can't help myself — and then he'd just… go for it. Bzzt-bzzt, all the way. Wasn't that how these stories were supposed to go?

"That… ah, not yet."

"I was thinking I'd start from… from the talking stage."

Running away when startled might just be human instinct. Some people throw a punch when they're startled.

At the very least, hyung runs.

"That… I don't know…"

If you want to get close to a cat, you have to approach low, crawling almost, so you don't startle it. Hyung was similar — catch his eye without scaring him, come closer, and take it slow.

And once he got used to it, you'd touch him, get touched back, get petted, and then one thing would lead to another… bzzt-bzzt and all the rest…

"Heh heh. Heh-hehh."

"Ah… yes, yep."

"Ah. Yes."

A wish ticket was only good for what I could actually do. In the end, it was a date.

But I knew perfectly well that a date between women wasn't that kind of date.

"Yes…"

"Yes, yep."

Maybe I'd figured out why hyung couldn't hold on to a woman. Every time things started to move forward, he pulled back — and when they tried to go further, he pulled back again. Wouldn't anyone start wondering if this handsome guy was just messing with them?

That was exactly what I was feeling right now.

"Hauu…"

By the time I'd finished thrashing through that deep swamp with my invisible doggy paddle, the dishes and the cooking were already done. Right on cue, I heard the door lock beep at the front entrance, and the door opened.

"Welcome home."

"Yeah."

Hyung seemed a little grim today. Even his posture had a certain sharpness to it, and I found myself pulled along by the tension before I knew it.

"Come eat."

But so what if he was? We were still in a cold war.

It had all fizzled out into a foggy mess — no gains, only wounds left behind. Especially for me.

"Jiwoo."

"Yes."

"We're going military-style."

"…What?"

Sitting there all solemn, with that deadly serious face, and the words out of his mouth were… what? Military?

"Ha…"

"If we go military-style and stick to the regs by the book, you'll be able to turn back into a proper man again!"

"…"

My heart filled with a hollow emptiness. I'd found his flaw.

He didn't understand the problem. Forget ethics — his Korean language score had to be fifty or below.

"Hyung. Do you really think I'm going to do that?"

"Uh… huh?"

"Are you joking with me right now… ah. Unbelievable."

I never imagined he'd be this clueless. It hadn't even crossed my mind.

All I'd pictured for today was apologizing together and slowly easing back into an ordinary relationship. I'd apologize first, brush off all the handsy stuff with some vague excuse, and then hyung would smile like everything was fine. Tomorrow we'd greet each other normally again, eat breakfast in the morning, come home in the evening and hang out.

That was what I'd expected.

"I'm sleeping somewhere else tonight."

"Jiwoo…?"

"Hmph."

I grabbed some clothes and dialed a number on my phone. I hadn't expected to be making this call, but…

"Unnie. Want me to upgrade that wish ticket for you?"

"I'm sleeping at your place."

I needed to properly hear a woman's opinion for once. Weigh the sins like Solomon and pass a little judgment.

"That would be perfect. I'll cook for you the second I get there, too."

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shoved my phone into my handbag and headed out.

"…Where are you going."

"To an unnie I know."

"……"

See?

He couldn't even say anything again.

Apologize, or at least ask why I was mad. People are so frustrating. If I was being prickly, he should figure out why I'd gotten prickly.

A man who was good at everything, who couldn't fail at anything — and somehow he still couldn't win a woman's heart. I genuinely couldn't understand it.

Did he see me as a man, or as a woman, or as the opposite of whichever one he thought? Back when I was a guy, the moment anything got hard he'd ask if I was okay, and if I was down he'd comfort me.

"I'm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠going."

"Uh…"

Nothing ever worked out. Not a single thing.

I crouched in a corner of the underground parking garage and waited for unnie.

I was definitely annoyed, and yet some part of me still kept hoping. If he apologized, I'd probably go right back to grinning like an idiot.

The rose-colored glasses were on tight.

"Jihye!"

"Unnieee…"

"Oh no, our Jihye's pretty face is all ruined. Aigoo…"

Unnie wiped away the tears I hadn't even noticed were falling with her sleeve, then pulled me straight into a hug. It was comfortable and warm, and I was so grateful to her.

I wish oppa would hold me like this.

"Let's go."

The tears stopped coming, and the irritation and injustice that had been forcing their way up settled down a little, too.

"…Do you have ingredients at home?"

"Ingredients? Ah… sss… maybe…?"

I'd promised to make her something delicious, after all.

"Let's stop by the store real quick."

I was grateful. So I'd pull myself together and cook something good.