Vicious Sniper (2)
The memories right before falling asleep were hazy. Or rather, it wasn’t just the memories—my whole body felt heavy and sluggish. It was that strange in-between state, like waking up with a crushing hangover after drinking yourself stupid the night before, mixed with the groggy aftermath of taking strong medicine while sick and sleeping far longer than usual.
“Ugh…”
I must have slept way too long, because prying open my sticky eyelids took real effort. My vision swam like it was wrapped in fog, making it impossible to recognize anything around me. The one thing I could make out was a soft orange light, nothing like the usual washed-out glow of my studio apartment that I always forgot to turn off before bed. It felt oddly unfamiliar.
The strangely high-pitched voice that slipped out of me suggested my throat was bone-dry from oversleeping. That light… maybe it was dusk, with the sunset spilling in? Come to think of it, wasn’t today my day off from the part-time job?
“...?”
I should get up first. The moment I tried to sit up, my body refused to move, as if something was holding it down. This wasn’t just weakness—it felt like I was literally being held in place—
“...What the hell. Why is this guy here?”
After blinking several times in a daze, my eyes finally focused enough to take in my surroundings. An unfamiliar ceiling. Dim lighting that seemed to consider the person who’d just woken up. The faint smell of disinfectant. A plain blanket covering my body.
And Park Woojin, of all people, sprawled half across the bed with his upper body, clutching one corner of the blanket I was under while sound asleep.
“...Hey. Wake up. Hey, Park Woojin.”
I grabbed his head with an arm that felt strangely slender and shook it back and forth. He mumbled something unintelligible for a moment, then shot upright with a ridiculous “Huk?!” His eyes darted left and right, still trying to figure out the situation, until his gaze suddenly locked onto me and stopped dead.
A short silence. Seeing his face—still with a trace of drool at the corner of his mouth, staring blankly at me—combined with this absurd situation, irritation slowly crept up on me. Instead of spacing out, explain what the hell is going on. I was about to say exactly that, still half-drowned in lingering sleep, when—
“Uh…”
“Uh?”
“Doctor—!!”
He sprang up with some incomprehensible shout and bolted off somewhere, leaving my stunned face behind.
From his retreating back, a voice that sounded like “She’s awake!” trailed off into the distance.
“...What the actual fuck is going on?”
Left alone with no one to answer my question, the only thing that echoed back was my own voice—thin and girlish, like some high-school girl. Maybe it was just my imagination.
After watching a perfectly healthy-looking man in a doctor’s coat ramble on with complete nonsense, I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction was appropriate.
“So, in conclusion, you’ve become a woman.”
I blinked slowly a few times, eyes still unfocused. Unfortunately, there was no sudden awakening from this long, ridiculous dream.
“...Han Seol?”
“Ah. Uh, yes?”
The doctor sitting across the table gave a bitter smile, as if he understood my dazed response. His expression said he knew his words were all true, an unchangeable reality, and that it was perfectly natural for me to have trouble accepting such a shocking fact right away.
“So what you’re saying is…”
“Yes. That mirror isn’t some hidden camera prank that was set up in advance. It’s just an ordinary full-length mirror. And the voice you’re hearing isn’t manipulated with helium or audio equipment. It really is your own voice, Han Seol.”
I creakily turned my head toward where the doctor was pointing. There stood a plain, full-length mirror—I’d already seen it so many times I’d lost count. Beneath messy black hair, a pair of bright brown eyes that looked almost golden sparkled softly in the early morning sunlight.
The body swimming in an oversized patient gown looked even smaller and more delicate, paired with a fragile-looking face that would stir protective instincts in anyone watching. Even the way those large eyes were slightly furrowed in displeasure seemed less like a bad personality and more like something cute. That was the kind of face it was.
…And that beautiful girl was staring back at me from the mirror.
“What the fuck.”
The curse I couldn’t hold back echoed flatly through the room before fading away.
It was a rare condition with only about six reported cases worldwide, including mine. The degree of physical change and the process itself varied wildly in every instance. With no common factors beyond the single point of “gender changing,” it wasn’t even certain they were the same condition. Naturally, there was no official name for it, and no research had been done.
Because the aftereffects were also unknown, I’d need to come in for a full health check once a month. Even though I’d been unconscious for two weeks, there were no major health issues. My skin was a bit sensitive, and I had moderate asthma. Wear sunscreen properly, avoid intense exercise. I’d prescribe some medication, so make sure to take it.
Since it wasn’t the kind of condition that needed to be publicized, not many people in the hospital knew. Only the hospital director, the doctor who’d treated me directly, a few head nurses, and my guardian Woojin knew that Han Seol had originally been male. He didn’t think I’d go around telling people, but please don’t anyway. See you next month.
“This is fucking insane.”
I’d returned to the single room I’d apparently occupied for the two weeks I was out—the same room where I’d first opened my eyes. The moment I closed the door, all the curses I’d been holding back came pouring out. The doctor’s explanation had been kind and clear, but it was far too unrealistic to swallow in one go.
I’d lived as a man for over twenty years, and now I wake up and get told to live as a woman from now on. The hospital would handle all the legal identity stuff, so I shouldn’t worry about the complicated parts and just rest—that’s what the doctor had said. But this wasn’t a problem that could be limited to something as simple as legal documents.
“Bullshit has its limits. What the hell is this?”
When I sat down on the soft hospital bed, a large TV with its power off stared back at me from straight ahead, almost like it was mocking me. Reflected on the pitch-black screen was the face of a girl wearing a deeply discontented expression, as if she had a mountain of things she wanted to say.
Objectively. Truly, objectively speaking, it was a lovable appearance. The kind of face that would make anyone passing by on the street turn their head at least once. The girl in the reflection was impossibly beautiful—if only she didn’t look exactly like me.
“I’ve thought it’d be nice to date someone that pretty, but I’ve never once wanted to become her myself…”
In my bleak mood, I wanted to wipe that complaining face off the screen, but unfortunately the remote was nowhere in sight. I irritably smacked the innocent bedsheets a few times before flopping backward onto the bed, my legs still dangling off the edge.
The pale light that had looked so hazy when I first opened my eyes was now staring down at me, as if only now noticing I was there.
“Haaaa…”
Memories from right after waking up flashed back one by one. Woojin asleep with his face buried in the side of my bed. The young nurse who, while running various tests, had asked with a meaningful smile, “He’s such a busy person, yet he visits every single day and even paid the hospitalization fees in full. If I may ask, what exactly is your relationship?”
The thought that this body might cause that kind of disgusting misunderstanding with him, along with the crushing sense of debt for owing him yet again, swirled together in my mind.
“The guy’s already swamped with work, and now he’s playing nurse too?”
After he ran out of the room, I hadn’t seen him again today. The nurse had said he came every day, which was probably exaggerated, but I knew without having to think too deeply just how hard it must have been for a pro gamer like him to carve out even a short amount of time during the regular season.
I’d have to ask how much he spent when I get discharged. Even if I couldn’t pay it all back immediately, I’d return it little by little by skimping on living expenses. …For a moment I considered that the obnoxious bastard had chosen an expensive single room himself to show off, so maybe I didn’t have to pay everything back, but anyway.
“If I was out for two weeks, I’m definitely fired from the part-time job…”
I’d heard that the only reason I could stay in the hospital while unconscious was thanks to a call from the part-time boss. When they couldn’t reach my personal number after I failed to show up for work without notice, they’d contacted the landlord of my studio using the number on my resume. The landlord, who hadn’t seen me for several days, found it strange, opened the door, and discovered me collapsed inside—
“I wonder if convenience stores or PC bangs are easy to get into these days.”
By the time I’d somehow been transferred to this hospital and they needed to call a guardian, the only recent contact on my phone besides the part-time boss was Woojin. When the doctor told me he’d been called first as my guardian, a lot of complicated feelings had risen up.
It wasn’t like there were any embarrassing photos or anything locked behind a password, so I didn’t feel violated that they’d opened it out of necessity. Still, the fact that my pathetic social connections had been exposed to an educated person like a doctor felt strangely embarrassing.
“Ah… I really don’t want to go around submitting resumes.”
Discharge would be as early as tomorrow or the day after at the latest. I kicked off the slippers that had been dangling from my toes, then crawled sluggishly toward the pillow.
There were plenty of things I needed to worry about, but in this overwhelming state of mind, I didn’t want to think about anything right now.