Chapter 200 Anniversary Side Story (4): If Everyone Had Swapped Genders

What if the world turned itself inside out overnight?

A reversal of men and women, say.

Women sweat their way through sports, stroll around bare-chested, and let crude jokes fall out of their mouths. Men huddle together in gym class in that knees-up sit, chattering as modestly as girls.

Put it more bluntly.

On iTube, a male idol dances a sexy routine. They call it a boy crush. Smoky makeup, tight leather and the rest of a daring wardrobe, and he owns the stage.

Just imagining it makes me want to throw up.

A revolting little daydream, disgusting from end to end. So why, of all things, had Tae-il dragged up something that nauseating out of nowhere?

"This is... me?"

Because the person in the wardrobe mirror refused to line up with the one he knew.

"No, no, no, no, no, no!"

Too stunned to think, Tae-il hammered the wardrobe with a fist before he realized he was doing it.

"How is this supposed to make sense?!"

His hair had grown. Quite a lot. A wig? He gave it a careful tug.

"Ow!"

His scalp hurt. The length spilling down to his waist wasn't some prank someone had stuck on his head. It was his own hair.

"Insane."

God, he figured, probably existed. Even if something occult happened, Tae-il had been confident he wouldn't startle. Why? Because the very existence called Shin Tae-il was the occult gathered into one person.

A reincarnator.

Occult, packed to the brim, no matter who looked. He could have believed in God, in ghosts, in an afterlife. He wouldn't have been surprised.

But.

"Even so, nobody could help being surprised by this, damn it!"

The voice he was shouting in was far too thin and high. Put plainly, it sounded like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a girl's. No. It simply was a girl's.

"And my chest, too..."

Tae-il carefully prodded the lumps of fat that had appeared there. They weren't insanely huge, not the way Iris's or Sakuya's were. Thank heaven for small mercies.

"Still bigger than Ayane's, though...?"

Fiddling with them left him feeling strange. He flushed and shook his head.

"Wh-what am I doing?"

This was no time to stand around idly kneading his chest.

"Mo—ooom!"

He hurried down the stairs in search of Yoo Ha-na.

"What is it, daughter?"

Fortunately, she was in the kitchen. Getting ready for work, by the look of it—the usual suit, with an apron over it.

"Mom, something's wrong with me— wait. Daughter?"

"If I don't call my daughter my daughter, what am I supposed to call her?"

Yoo Ha-na tipped her head.

"Tae-yeon, what's gotten into you all of a sudden? Did you have some strange dream?"

"N-no, it's just..."

Good grief. Not Tae-il. Tae-yeon.

His brain shorted out. Dazed, he mumbled that it was nothing and trudged back up the stairs.

"Tae-yeon?"

Shin Young-hoon came out of the master bedroom just then, spotted him on the stairs, and asked in a voice threaded with worry.

"Ayato next door didn't do anything, did he?"

"Huh? Ayato?"

"That's right. If anything happens, you tell your dad. All of it."

Got it? In a gentle tone Tae-il had never once heard back when he was a son, Shin Young-hoon stroked his hair. Tae-il got goosebumps.

"Y-yes..."

"Good. Dear, we ought to get going ourselves."

"Yes. Tae-yeon, your lunch is on the table, so make sure you take it with you, all right?"

"O-okay."

"And don't forget again and put Ayato through it."

"I-I won't!"

"Hehe."

What was this? Their son had become a daughter, and the whole mood of the house had changed with it. Tae-il hid his disbelief as best he could and saw his parents off at the door with a smile.

The door shut with a clack, and his face soured at once.

"Unbelievable. When I was their son they looked down their noses and glared at me every single day, and now what is this..."

He stomped back up to his room, did his best to ignore the nameplate that read Tae-yeon, opened the door, and stopped short despite himself.

"Ah."

He'd been too out of his head when he first woke to notice. The room, taken all together, was frilly. And red. Anyone could tell it belonged to a girl, not a boy. If this were a boy's room? You'd have to start questioning the owner's tastes.

"Haa."

He pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead and threw himself onto the blanket. A pile of teddy bears by the pillow toppled over. Even the bed was softer than it had been when he was a guy.

"I'm gonna lose it."

Lying on his stomach made his chest feel tight and uncomfortable, so he gave up and rolled onto his side to turn on his phone. They said that even dragged into a tiger's den, you could live so long as you kept your head. He sorted through the chaos in his skull and decided to gather information first, before it was time for school.

"First..."

The members. Because of that name Ayato, the one Shin Young-hoon had used, he was most curious about the state of the band.

"Don't tell me Ayane turned into Ayato...?"

She had.

"..."

Different. Flip the gender and the character felt similar to the old one, and yet unmistakably off.

"I'm kind of scared to scroll any further up..."

He had to anyway. The members' chats could wait. If he was going to play Tae-yeon, the most important thing was reviewing the messages he himself had sent.

First, the way he talked.

Scrolling through the LINE messages exchanged with the members, he found that the way Tae-il talked as a girl was extremely stiff.

"Stiffer than when I was a guy, I think."

For one thing, even when a long message came in, every one of Tae-yeon's replies was a one-liner or a sticker. Detailed explanations and anything that might run long got exactly as many words as necessary, and no more.

"Are we not that close...?"

Now that he thought about it, Ayane—no, Ayato—hadn't been asleep in the bed with him. Flip the genders, and the relationship seemed to have changed along with them.

"Hmm."

While he was turning it over, the phone rang.

"Kyaa! Th-that scared me!"

He soothed his jumping heart and carefully picked up. The caller was Ayato. This world's Ayane. He put the phone to his ear, and a boy's voice came through—soft, high, the sort of voice you'd expect from a puppy-faced kid.

The call ended. Tae-il noticed another small change.

"He doesn't come up to the room...?"

If Tae-il was asleep, Ayane used to barge all the way into the room and wake him herself. Ayato didn't. Was that just how it was? The thought was greasy and revolting, but if Ayato had ever tried it, Shin Young-hoon—a father in name, at least—might well have had a fit.

"Anyway..."

The small shifts in their relationship weren't what mattered now. He got off the bed, wound tight, and looked into the closet.

A black sailor uniform hung on its hanger, radiating an overwhelming presence. He had seen it until he was sick of it. The infamous black sailor uniform Ayane had worn, and the other members too.

From now on, she was going to have to wear that.

"..."

The door creaked.

"Shin-chan! Good mor— ...ning?"

Ayato had opened into a bright smile to greet the Tae-yeon who stepped out, and then he blinked, fast.

Huh?

Was that right? Just as someone had predicted, his puppy face tipped to one side, cute for a boy.

"Um... Shin-chan?"

Tae-yeon, her expression darker than usual, as if something unpleasant had happened, snapped back.

"What."

"No, I mean— Shin-chan, do you have P.E. first period today?"

"Dunno."

"You don't know? More importantly, why are you..."

Ayato looked her up and down, uneasy. Astonishingly, Tae-yeon—who wasn't even on an athletic team—was in a gym uniform from the morning, the sort that kept as much skin covered as possible. Not gym pants under a uniform skirt. Literally just the gym uniform. Dressed like that, the morals committee would catch her at the gate, no question.

"You brought your uniform... right?"

"No."

"Are you sure you're okay? You're not sick or anything, are you?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Tae-yeon strode off ahead, and Ayato, still unsure, collected the bicycle leaning against the wall and followed.

"Shin-chan! Get on the back."

"..."

At the usual pat on the rear seat, Tae-yeon stopped. A crease formed between her pretty brows.

"You're not getting on?"

"..."

From the side of the bike, she carefully perched herself on the saddle.

"We're off. Hold my waist tight so you don't fall."

"Mm."

Tae-yeon cautiously gripped the waist of Ayato's gakuran. Ayato huffed a laugh, caught that hand, and pulled it around so she was forced to circle his waist.

"You'll fall like that."

"Ngh!"

Right after, he worked the pedals, quick as he could. To keep from falling, Tae-yeon instinctively clung tight around his waist. The broad plane of contact against her front. Ayato broke into a grin.

"Haha! Shin-chan, you know it's coming and you still fall for it every single time."

"I-I'll kill you?"

Getting caught, and then threatening to kill him anyway—how could it be this identical?

Luck's good today, too.

Ayato hummed cheerfully and pedaled hard. They cut quietly through the wind, and a question occurred to him.

"Shin-chan."

"What."

"Um, my memory's a little fuzzy, but..."

"What about it?"

"You being in a gym uniform all of a sudden— is today maybe..."

"Today?"

"Is it that day?"

The brakes shrieked. The bicycle stopped dead.

"Guh—!"

With a heavy flop, Ayato clutched his stomach and went down.

"Hmph."

Tae-yeon looked down at him, lips pushed out a mile, and walked on ahead alone, step by step.

"Sh-Shin-chan! Let's go together!"

Ayato scrambled to right the bicycle and chased after her. The same scenery as always. At least for Ayato, it was.

How am I supposed to wear a skirt!

Leaving the fallen Ayato where he lay, Tae-il walked on in a huff and sulked to himself. A skirt. Fine. He could allow the skirt, even. The problem was the other thing. Underwear.

Aaaah, seriously!

Maybe because the body of the girl named Tae-yeon didn't feel like his at all, the moment he so much as looked at the underwear he was crushed by a monstrous guilt. Even so, if he thought about the disaster that would come of not wearing any, the guilt would be worse. No choice. He squeezed his eyes shut and put Tae-yeon's underwear on.

Just getting into it had cost him a tremendous amount of mental strength. Wrung out, he couldn't bring himself to attempt the skirt at all. So he wore the gym uniform instead of the school uniform.

And then.

Is he insane? A period? I mean, I did keep track of Ayane's cycle, but I never said it out loud...!

If anything, Ayane had been the one who volunteered her cycle. The reason was obvious. An implicit suggestion that he time things with contraception in mind. Tae-il, of course, was the only one who didn't get it.

"I-I'm sorry, Shin-chan! I went a little too far, didn't I...?"

"Haa."

Ayato apologized again and again, and ignoring him forever felt wrong, so Tae-il sighed and stopped. The front wheel touched his heel.

"Shin-chan?"

"Let's hurry. You can't be late."

"Yeah!"

A moment ago he'd worn the most pitiful expression in the world, like a dog left out in the rain. Now he was grinning again, perfectly happy.

Unbelievable.

Tae-il snorted, settled onto the saddle, and rested his head against Ayato's back. His eyes slid shut. Ayato ran as warm as Ayane, and leaning on him like this made the drowsiness pour in.

"Shin-chan, you'll fall if you sleep."

"I'm not sleeping."

"Really?"

"..."

"Haha! It's fine if you do. I'll just hold both your arms like this so you don't fall."

"Forget it. I'm wide awake."

"Darn."

He didn't even sound all that disappointed. Tae-il bonked the small of his back with her head, as if telling him to reflect.

"Ahaha. Sorry."

Ayato was simply happy. The fussing Tae-yeon never wasted on anyone else, she wasted on him.

It's like I'm special...!

He picked up speed, the arms around his waist cinched like a belt, and Ayato's smile reached his ears. There was no more conversation between them. Tae-il, who had needed the time to adjust anyway, didn't find the silence entirely painful or uncomfortable.

The problem started after that, in the classroom.

"Yo."

The moment the warning bell was about to ring, Sakuya—fresh from a workout, shaking the damp out of his hair—offered a crisp hello.

Right. Sakuya gets used as a boy's name, too.

Tae-il looked up.

My neck hurts.

He'd been pleased that a recent growth spurt was closing the gap. In one stroke it had opened by more than twenty centimeters. Running a quick simulation off the LINE chats, he asked as naturally as he could.

"Been practicing guitar?"

"Ahaha. That's the first thing out of your mouth when you see me? I'm hurt."

Tae-il felt the stare. Sharper and colder than when he'd been a guy. He shivered without meaning to.

"Ahaha."

Sakuya laughed all of a sudden, then petted Tae-il's head roughly, pressing down hard.

"Ack! Wh-what...!"

"Of course I practiced it perfectly. Enough that any girl who isn't you would be squealing."

"I-I'll check the homework at lunch..."

"'Kay."

Feeling the gaze lift, Tae-il looked around. No one met her eyes. The classroom had split into its own little weathers, groups laughing and talking among themselves.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

Tae-il flinched and looked up. Sakuya was still smiling, and the air in the room was oddly stiff.

"It's nothing. Just..."

"Ah! Is today that day? You know, when you get all sensitive for no reason?"

Thud!

"Agh!"

Tae-il kicked him in the shin. The seating was exactly the same as when he'd been a boy. And back then, he'd walked right past it without a thought...

This is a lot of pressure.

Suddenly a girl, with the giant known as Sakuya sitting beside her, the weight of it was enormous.

What is this. Humiliation?

He glanced at the seat beside him. Sakuya had his chin propped on his hand, looking this way, and when their eyes met he smiled. Tae-il whipped his head back as if fleeing.

I'm gonna lose it.

Why did that guy keep looking at him like honey was about to drip out of his eyes? Faced with the riddle of the century, Tae-il felt uncomfortable. Chin in hand, he forced his attention onto the blackboard, which had nothing written on it. If he didn't, his eyes would keep sliding back toward Sakuya.

"Tae-yeon."

"..."

"Shin Tae-yeon?"

"Ah."

Realizing a beat late that Shin Tae-yeon was his name, he responded.

"What?"

"Sorry about earlier. Seriously, though, why the gym uniform? We don't have P.E. today."

"..."

Of all the luck, they were in the same class. Tae-il was stuck for an answer.

"It really is that day— agh!"

Still. Unlike when he'd been a guy, he could properly punish the nonsense, and that was convenient.

"Shin!"

The instant the art room door opened, a yellow-haired creature sprinted at Tae-il. He caught the body that flung itself into his arms and spun with it.

"Re— Rei?"

"Yeah!"

So the puppy hadn't been Ayato. The destructive power of a bright-eyed British shota, blue eyes shining, left Tae-il blank for a second. Tae-il liked kids, too. Something so bright and pure that just looking made his hand reach for a snack on its own.

But...

Petting Rei's head, he checked the boy's height with open curiosity.

He's even shorter than me as a girl...

Looking at how tiny Rei was, the inferiority he'd felt over being shorter than Sakuya surged up as a rush of kinship. Not knowing what Tae-il was feeling, Sakuya stuck his head in over a shoulder.

"Hey, you're wearing Tae-yeon out. Get down, squirt."

"Mind your business. Back off, beanpole."

The two of them growled. Watching electricity crackle in the empty air between them, Tae-il stared, fascinated.

What, they don't get along here?

He carefully set Rei down, then petted his head. A habit worn into the body. Rei accepted the pets meekly, twisted the corner of his mouth, and sneered at Sakuya.

"Heh. See? You and I don't even get the same treatment."

"You little...!"

"Hit me. Go on, hit me. Aaaah! Shin! The beanpole's trying to hit me!"

"Sakuya."

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

"Ngh! Tae-yeon, I'm telling you, that act is calculated!"

"Even so."

Watching someone over 180 centimeters bully someone around 140 was a little hard to stomach.

"Tch. Know you're lucky, pipsqueak."

"Bleh."

Mediating the two, who looked ready to fight at every opening, Tae-il stepped into the art room. The air changed.

"Ah."

He caught his breath without meaning to. Even through the noise of Sakuya and Rei arguing, a boy sat quietly in his seat, staring a hole through a lyric sheet with a grave face. Arisugawa Issei. He sensed Tae-il and lifted his head.

Damn.

Tae-il swore internally.

"You're here."

A grave voice, deep as if it were echoing inside a cave.

"Yeah."

After the jet-black golden retriever, Silver Sun, and the British shota, next was the cool young master.

That is Iris, right?

If Iris was fire, the boy in front of him was ice. A completely different atmosphere. Watching his mood, Tae-il sidled over, sat in the chair directly across, and unpacked his lunch.

"L-let's eat, and then go straight into ensemble practice."

"Ah."

Something about Issei's voice made Tae-il think his back would probably look cool.

Go drown in your ideals... gah!

Eighth-grade syndrome poured off Issei. Not Iris. Issei. Rei, hands laced behind his head, needled Sakuya on his way over to Issei's side.

"Okay. Beanpole's skills are finally gonna get exposed."

"Hah? What's wrong with my skills?"

"What's wrong? Your skills are the most tragic ones here."

"Kh!"

Tae-il stared at Sakuya. Feeling the look, Sakuya rushed to explain.

"N-no! That's all the pipsqueak slandering me! Just watch! I'll show you with skill!"

"Haha! Bullsh— oops."

"L-l-l-look at that! Tae-yeon! He only acts coy in front of you. He's a total maniac of a brat, I'm telling you!"

It wasn't only the relationships that had changed.

Even their playing changed.

Watching Sakuya and Rei bicker, quietly sorting what he'd learned, Tae-il took up his chopsticks and pressed his hands together.

"Thanks for the meal."

Lunch was noisy, but fine. The whole time, there were things like Sakuya coveting what was in Tae-il's lunch box.

"I didn't make this lunch."

"You didn't...?"

One line—that his mom had made it, not him—and Sakuya wilted, which Tae-il found pretty funny.

"Is Tae-yeon the type who can't cook...?"

"Mm. Just the instant stuff."

"Wait, then a guy who can cook might actually be more... than music?"

Attractive, maybe. Sakuya seriously considered learning to cook.

After the meal, once real ensemble practice began, fatigue hit Tae-il hard and fast.

"Tae-yeon, how's this? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I saw it in an Inudong video, and the guitarist goes like this right there...!"

"No goofing off."

"Ehh!"

It started with controlling Sakuya, who, upon becoming a boy, had suddenly acquired a taste for showing off.

"Shin, how was I just now?"

"You were good."

"Hehe. See? This is the gap between you and me."

"Grk!"

Then there was soothing Rei, who had a childish side to him, fishing for praise at every opportunity and poking at Sakuya's temper while he was at it.

"Shin Tae-yeon, if you look at the note you wrote here..."

"Ah, that part should be a little calmer..."

"Calmer? If that's what we want, then rather like this..."

"Want to try singing it?"

"Ahem!"

"Ah."

"You see?"

"So I need only deliver it with as little feeling as possible."

"Yeah. But the expression... can you?"

"Of course."

Issei, smiling so sweetly it was almost a burden.

"You are the vocalist I chose. There is no way you are not the best."

"Being the best doesn't really have anything to do with..."

"You said my strength was an expressiveness and an appeal no one else could match."

Trust soaked his clear crimson eyes.

"..."

Had a look that offered faith and trust always been this heavy? Feeling what it was like on the other side, Tae-il felt guilty toward the members.

When I get back, I'll make things easier on them.

He went on talking with Issei, who—having prompted some unintentional self-reflection—was actively sounding him out for opinions on the vocals. It was fresh. But the other boy's fierce passion came through, and the longer they talked, the more tired he got. Maybe it was because the person across from him was familiar and deeply unfamiliar at the same time.

Is it because I became a girl...?

His stamina had been terrible as a guy, too. As a girl, the whole of it genuinely started to feel like a burden.

"Shin! Look at me for a second, okay?"

"Okay."

Especially with Rei, he felt like he'd become a nanny. Rei seemed to think of him as a mom, chattering without a break and demanding he watch the playing. Even when Tae-il sat down to rest, Rei would casually climb into his lap and cling, which left him at a loss.

"Hey, you're making Tae-yeon uncomfortable!"

"Shin, is that true...? Should I get down...?"

Whenever Tae-il let a little discomfort show, Sakuya barged in heroically.

"Mm. It's fine."

Maybe because he knew the boy's background, at least roughly, he couldn't refuse Rei's pitiful eyes.

"See? Shin says it's fine. Beanpole, quit meddling and go practice guitar some more."

"Grk...!"

"Mm. Sakuya's skills really are the worst. Even worse than Ayato's..."

"I-I get it! I'll practice, I'll practice!"

Accomplished with both the brush and the blade. That was how Tae-il had always thought of Sakuya. But the Sakuya in front of him was definitely not the Sakuya he knew.

His grades are lower than mine...

Male Sakuya. Mankuya, for short, leaned more toward the martial than the scholarly. His dream wasn't manga artist, but sports star—with the hope that someday, after he retired, a sports manga based on him would come out. A style that moved on instinct close to pure gut, and on the experience he'd piled up, rather than on tidy theory. Thanks to that, he was struggling quite a bit in music, too.

"Want me to help?"

"Really?"

Watching Sakuya flounder over something as simple as how to fret a chord somehow reminded him of his past life, charging at the bass with no plan at all. Before he knew it, Tae-il had offered a hand. Rei snatched that hand.

"Just leave him. If you teach him, he'll get all puffed up and start showing off again."

"We're still the same band."

"Tae-yeon..."

Moved by the kindness, Sakuya burst into tears.

"Waaah! I'm touched! Thank you, really!"

"It's nothing."

Wondering if he'd ever been thanked that hard, Tae-il scratched his cheek in embarrassment, and Issei, who had been looking over the lyric sheet, cut in.

"I will watch him."

"Hah?"

"I am better at guitar than Shin Tae-yeon."

Issei gently wrapped an arm around the shoulder of Tae-il, who was about to stand, and sat him back down. Sakuya freaked out.

"No, Issei, the way you teach is total genius-style, like 'why can't you even do this'..."

"Your amount of practice ought to be ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠more than enough for this, and yet you cannot do it. That is why. Come. Quickly."

"Nooo! Just let me enjoy being with Tae-yeon for a minute!"

"Um..."

While Tae-il watched blankly, Issei dragged Sakuya off toward a corner of the art room. Rei tugged his hand downward.

"Leave them, and watch my practice some more. Okay?"

"Sure..."

Club band practice at school ran roughly along those lines. After school, it was the same even once Ayato joined. They played keys and tried to lock in, but Sakuya kept making mistakes, and they couldn't move forward.

"Sakuya."

Issei, at the end of his patience, dragged Sakuya off to the corner.

"I could watch him too..."

"Ah-ah. Shin-chan, you rest. We'll watch him."

The moment Tae-il tried even a little to look after Sakuya, every member joined forces to separate the two of them.

"This is discrimination against Silver Sun!"

"It is discrimination."

"You're admitting it!?"

"Well. We are giving you special treatment. Ah. Vermin. You just grabbed the wrong chord."

"Come on!"

Issei coldly pointed out Sakuya's mistake. Sakuya rebelled.

"Men don't need any special treatment!"

"Haha. If it bothers you, get better."

Ayato smiled pleasantly, and annoyingly, beside them.

"Ayato, you get to be with Tae-yeon at home too, that's the only reason! You cheap jerk!"

"If it bothers you, become a childhood friend."

"Insane."

Ayato said it with a smile on his face, and even Sakuya looked fed up.

"Haha. They're hilarious, right?"

"Y-yeah."

While the three of them squabbled, Rei worked hard at being cute in Tae-il's arms.

And then, on the way home after practice.

"See you tomorrow, Shin!"

"Bye."

"Yahoo! See you in the morning, Tae-yeon!"

"Mm."

Receiving a send-off so devoted it was suspicious, he climbed onto the back of the bicycle.

"Haa."

Mentally worn out by a schedule harder than he'd expected, he leaned against Ayato's back. Feeling the weight there, Ayato slowed the bike and asked.

"You look tired. You okay?"

"Not at all."

"Haha. That's the first time I've heard Shin-chan say that."

"I'm tired."

The unfamiliar setting was one problem, but so was the presence of the flesh on his chest, and the weight of hair that swung with every step. Only the body had changed, and there wasn't a single corner of it he could ignore. If he'd been in the school uniform instead of the gym clothes, he might have collapsed from the stress. Ayato bent forward at the waist so it would be easier to lean.

"Rest up when you get home. I'll make dinner."

"Mm..."

A little later, the arms cinching his waist went slack.

"Shin-chan?"

"Zzz..."

Even breathing. No answer came back. Ayato smiled bitterly and held Tae-yeon's arm tight around his waist with one hand.

"You worked hard today, too."

"..."

"Shin-chan! You're so cold today!"

"You're barely talking. Are you sick?"

"Isn't it because Sakuya ran you into the ground?"

"No! Tae-il's been keeping up great lately!"

Tae-yeon turned her head. Too loud. The men had been painful on the ears when they chattered, but the women were worse than that.

How did he ever put up with this...

All over again, Tae-yeon felt how impressive the boy she really was had been.

Especially Ayane. This girl—who was Ayato, no matter how you looked at her—was far too free with her hands, even to Tae-yeon, who was a girl herself.

"Shin-chan! You're really not sick anywhere, right? Right?"

"Yeah."

When she'd woken that morning, some woman in pajamas had been clinging to her, and she couldn't begin to say how badly it had startled her. Right after that, someone who was unmistakably the female version of Silver Sun showed up.

"Morning workout, Tae-il!"

"What?"

Dragged out by force at that shout, she'd been so miserable she nearly fainted without meaning to.

"Hah, hah! Just— give me a second... a break... please!"

"You ran fine until yesterday, so what's with you today! Hustle, hustle!"

"Gyaaah!"

Her suffering didn't end at school, either.

"Behold! The tiered lunch box I prepared today! I heard from Ayane that you weren't doing well, Shin Tae-il, so I specially prepared stamina food, too!"

"Eel...?"

"There's ginseng, too, the kind that's good for your energy! It was expensive!"

"..."

And then there was the female version of Issei, who for whatever scheme was trying to stuff her with foods supposedly good for virility. In the middle of that chaos, Tae-yeon clutched Rena—the only salvation—tight against her.

"Shin?"

"Just a second. Like this..."

"O-okay..."

Maybe it was because Rei had been a boy, but Rena was nicer to hold than he had been. And she was quiet. She didn't chatter on and on, which was nice. Right up until ensemble practice, Tae-yeon stayed like that, healed with Rena gathered in her arms. It was the same after school, once Ayane came back from morals-committee duty.

"Why does she keep clinging to Shin-chan...?"

"I heard Tae-il won't let go."

"Hands off!"

And so, until she fell asleep, Tae-yeon had to endure Ayane's whining all over again.