The Pretty Girl Who Only Looks Sick

"I never want to set foot in a hospital again..."

"From where I'm standing, you're going to be back here a lot."

The full workup confirmed there was nothing seriously wrong with me. I paid the bill and checked out.

A nurse had caught me eating galbitang—short-rib soup—and after that she looked in on the room nearly every twenty minutes, so I never got the chance to eat anything else. Four meals in a row, I made do with nutritional porridge.

"Once I'm home, I'm actually going to rest."

I said it on a sigh. My little sister studied my face, then spoke with care.

"Oh—about the house. Want to live with me?"

"I don't know. I'm more comfortable on my own."

The place was a little on the large side, but Jiyoon and I kept very different habits, and two people under one roof were bound to get on each other's nerves. I didn't want a roommate if I could ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠help it.

"Living alone could be dangerous. Like last time... no, forget that. Anyway, if we lived together, wouldn't we save a little money?"

"If the money went anywhere, it'd go up, not down."

"What if I did all the housework? Would you allow it then?"

I turned it over for a moment, convenience against the hassle, and the answer was still no. In my previous life I'd lived with my little sister for about a year, and I didn't have a single good memory of it.

"Yeah. Living alone really is better."

"Why? It's not even a brother and sister moving in. We'd be sisters. Don't you think we'd get along?"

"That's because we're not sisters, we're broth—khh—cough, cough..."

"Unni!"

So this fell under the penalty too. I'd spent roughly thirty-five years as a man and not even a full week as a woman, and my sense of who I was still snarled every time I opened my mouth.

Is it really all right to lose this much blood?

"Cough, cough..."

There was quite a lot of blood. Startled, Jiyoon pulled out her phone and tried to call the hospital.

"Oh, Unni... what do I do..."

If that call went through, I'd be back on nutritional porridge. I caught her arm with the hand that wasn't covered in blood and asked for a tissue.

"I'm fine. If you've got a tissue, could I have one?"

I took it and wiped the blood away, and Jiyoon, face gone serious, announced that we were living together.

"Yeah, no. This won't work. I'm living with you. No arguments."

"Why?"

"You just saw all that and you're asking me why? Even with me right here you coughed up that much blood and looked like you were in agony. What are you going to do if it happens when you're alone?"

"There's a reason for this."

If I didn't meet other people, I had no reason to slip. Aside from the single penalty I'd triggered on my own, every one of them had come out of a conversation. If anything, it was safer to be the only person in the house.

"You don't have to stay with me. Wouldn't you be more comfortable on your own, too?"

"No. I've always been more comfortable with you. And since it came up—can I sleep over at your place tonight? I've really wanted to sleep next to you..."

Wrong. Whatever reason I offered, Jiyoon wasn't going to give up on living together. I'd coughed blood and put I'm a patient on full display. There was no dodging it anymore.

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"Haah. Fine. We'll sleep at my place tonight."

"Hehe. Thanks, Unni."

I brought her home, and the moment we arrived the drowsiness I'd been holding off closed around me. My eyelids grew heavy.

"Whoa, this is what your place looks like? Just like I pictured—ridiculously clean."

"Yaaawn... look around, make yourself comfortable... I'm tired. I'm going to lie down for a bit."

I made sure she was starting to wander the place, then dragged my worn-out body to the bed.

"Haah. I am disgustingly tired. Leave the house and it's nothing but misery."

Not once had going out ended well. Twice I'd been hauled to a hospital, twice dragged into a police station. It was a wonder I hadn't developed a full-blown hatred of the outdoors.

"So what am I supposed to do for a living from now on?"

Sleep left me. The practical problem I'd forgotten floated back to the surface, and the bedroom mirror let me take stock of the reality I was stuck in.

"I can never go outside looking like this."

I needed work I could do from home. Something that let me earn at home, eat at home, and sleep at home.

I'd already thought of it once and ruled streaming out. Freelancing in something specialized, programming and the like, meant studying all over again, which I couldn't be bothered to do, and I had no edge worth selling. I turned the options over until exactly one decent job occurred to me.

"...A novelist?"

I could serialize from home. If it took off, I could make money without leaving, and no matter what else happened I could still sleep in my own bed. At my old job I'd spent most of my breaks reading novels, and I'd written some myself and done decently. Worth a try.

"Once she leaves to pack her things, I'll start writing."

With the thought settled, fatigue rushed back in and I tried to sleep—until a knock forced my eyes open.

Knock, knock, knock.

"I'm not your sister, I'm your bro—khh... cough... J-just a minute..."

The words had slipped out on their own, and the penalty hit. I hunted through the room for tissues, wiped the blood from my hands and mouth, and told her she could come in.

"You can come in."

"Unni, what were you doing?"

"Lying down. I was tired. I told you earlier."

"Hehe, sorry. It's my first time at your place. I must not have heard."

She laughed, awkward, and then her eyes fixed on the tissue in my hand.

Ah. Damn it.

I flung it into the trash as fast as I could, but as the tissue vanished she caught the blood I hadn't quite managed to wipe away, and her face went hard.

"Unni, are you hiding something from me?"

"No. What would I gain by hiding it? I'm tired—could you step out for a bit?"

"...All right."

Under that suspicious look, I issued the order to leave before my unease could show, and drove her out of the room.

No matter how I turned it over, Unni was hiding something from me. Just from what I'd seen at the hospital, if you gathered all the blood she'd coughed up, it would fill a small bottle of water.

"What if the hospital and Unni cooked that diagnosis up together—that she isn't sick?"

But I'd watched a nurse go pale when blood stained the corner of Unni's mouth and soaked one sleeve of her hospital gown, so that theory had gone too far.

"Unni... what on earth are you hiding from me?"

Paying the bill, thinking of home, she'd smiled like she might float off the ground, and in that moment she hadn't looked like someone with a secret at all. That didn't mean there wasn't one.

"When you really thought about it, the way she'd seemed to have no emotions was just her hiding them all this time, wasn't it? So why had she lived like that—hiding how she felt?"

One question caught the tail of the next, until Unni's voice cut straight through them.

"Why are you spacing out over here? Let's go home."

"Okay. Hehe."

Right. Whatever she was hiding, she wasn't hiding it to hurt me. Not a chance. But I wanted to know what it was, and to find out, I asked to live with her.

"Oh—about the house. Want to live with me?"

"No. Living alone really is easier."

"Why? It's not even a brother and sister moving in. We'd be sisters."

Was there no way to live with her? A brother and sister, maybe not, but I'd heard that sometimes brothers did, or sisters. Just as I decided there was no way, the opening came.

"Sisters... ugh... cough, cough..."

She brought up even more blood than she had at the hospital, and what little color she'd had drained until she was paler still.

She was definitely hiding an illness. Otherwise she wouldn't have looked like someone about to die.

"Wait—this actually looks fatal. Oh, Unni... what do I do..."

I snatched up my phone to call emergency services, but she gave me a faint smile, caught the arm holding the phone, and spoke.

"I'm fine. If you've got a tissue, could I have one?"

I handed it over. As if this were nothing new, she wiped her hands and mouth without a flicker of concern. Who could look at that and say she was fine? Pale-faced, wiping away blood again and again—watching her, I made up my mind. We were living together.

"This won't work. I'm living with you. No arguments."

It was about time I moved anyway, so the timing was right. If the place she lived in wasn't big enough, I had a little money of my own. I'd sign a lease on a larger one and we'd move.

"Can I sleep over at your place tonight? I've really wanted to sleep next to you..."

"Haah. Fine. We'll sleep at my place tonight."

I pressed her until she finally allowed us to live together, and while I had the momentum I wheedled a look at her home—and permission to stay the night—out of her as well.

The place we arrived at was far bigger than I'd imagined, and just as I'd pictured: clean, and furnished with a sleek hand.

"Make yourself comfortable."

She seemed tired. She said that much and went into her room, and I began a slow tour of the house.

Not a single useless object. Furniture placed for nothing but efficiency. So like her. And with that came the other thought: this was where a criminal had hurt her.

"This is where that criminal did it to her, isn't it?"

He hadn't touched a single thing—only the person—and hadn't left a scrap of evidence. Thorough to the bone.

"It's all right. From now on I'll protect her. But why is she so quiet? Is she asleep?"

Knock.

"Unni? Can I come in?"

She'd gone in and then gone suspiciously quiet, so I knocked and was about to enter when a huge noise burst from inside the room.

Crash! Clatter!

Was it ten seconds? Twenty? Then her voice came from inside.

The first thing I saw was blood she hadn't managed to wipe from the corner of her mouth, and a tissue clutched in her hand as if she were hiding something.

"Unni, what were you doing in here?"

"Just... lying down. I was tired."

Something was wrong.

"You should wash up before you lie down. What are you going to do if you get sick?"

I looked at the tissue. She noticed my eyes fixed on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it and hurriedly threw it into the trash.

"This is suspicious... If something's hard, you have to tell me, okay?"

"There's nothing. What would I gain by hiding it? I'm tired—could you step out for a bit?"

"...All right."

Leaving her room, I swore I would uncover the secret she was keeping.

No matter what.

I would.