Author, Please Keep Community Activity to Mutually Agreed Terms (3)

"Yeji-noona? Yes — the paperwork for my noona... Right. Comp days probably won't work, so... double overtime pay, then."

"Yes~ I'll be counting on you, then."

Watching the two of them haggle over my compensation while the one person concerned was left neatly out of the loop, I decided to just let it slide. With Yeji helping, everything would get settled faster and more smoothly anyway — and it wasn't ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as though any of it was a bad deal for me.

"Yeji-noona says she'll take care of all the paperwork herself."

"How convenient."

"So while you think over how you want to handle serialization from here on, why not look back through some of the things you wrote in the old days."

"All right."

When I actually went looking for something I could start writing on the spot, the works that seemed viable came to six in total. Not a single one of them was an adult novel.

"Hmm... Hey, Suho."

"Yes?"

"You know those bound copies you keep?"

"Yes."

"Why do some of the corners look all warped?"

The books themselves were immaculate, kept as carefully as if he'd been tending to them only days ago. Just a handful of the earliest volumes had corners that looked as though they'd been soaked in something and left to dry, and those were in far from perfect shape.

"...... They must have picked up some moisture at some point."

"Really? I could've sworn you were meticulous about their care."

"Even I can't be perfect. Anyway, I'm stepping out for a little while."

"What? Where? It's the weekend — you're working?"

The moment he said he was heading out, my feet carried me over to him before I knew what I was doing, and I found myself gripping Suho by the wrist.

"No. I'm just paying a quick visit to the family home."

"Ah... I see."

"Yes. Don't cause any trouble, and be good while I'm gone."

"Am I a child?"

Getting babied by my own junior left me with the strangest feeling. It wasn't quite anger, and it wasn't quite irritation — just something difficult to put into words.

"And your answer?"

"Fine. Give me a ride there, will you?"

I'd been tangled in that odd mood for barely a moment before the pushy brat snapped me out of it. At my question, Suho broke into a grin and fired one right back.

"Introducing yourself already? Noona, do you plan on keeping that up all year round?"

"What introduction?"

"You said you were going to the family home. Wasn't that you asking to come along and introduce yourself to my father as his prospective daughter-in-law?"

"Hey!? What nonsense is that!"

The words burst out of me before I could stop them.

Who's a daughter-in-law?!

I hated how he treated me like a woman at times like this. No — biologically speaking, I was a woman now, so I supposed Lee Suho treating me as one wasn't exactly wrong, but—

"Anyway. Until I'm back, polish up your writing, and give some real thought to what you're going to do on the stream."

"...Right. Get back safe."

"I will."

Suho, whose travel preparations had somehow been finished without my ever noticing, was out the door in no time.

What to do on the stream, huh...

The first time I'd switched it on, the whole thing had been pure terror. Now it was different. Receiving all those stares I'd spent years ducking away from turned out to be, surprisingly, pleasant. The fear of meeting, in real time, the people reacting to my every move was still there — but flailing in horror at the first comments I ever read and slamming shut every channel of communication had been my own fault, pure and simple. Contrary to my assumptions, I was loved far more than I'd realized. I simply hadn't known it.

"Mm... All right. Guess I'll pull myself together and give it an honest try."

Because one careless move, and I might genuinely end up married on paper.

A few stops on the subway brought me to the great estate. I stood there in front of the main gate and let out a long breath.

I told Noona this was my family home — but is it, really?

"Hoo... No matter how many times I come here, I never get used to this place."

Father had summoned me out of nowhere, and I had a pretty good guess as to why.

He wants to talk about Gaon-noona, doesn't he?

Father had never truly resented me for becoming a man. When I changed from daughter to son, his reaction had simply been: you're my child, so what's the problem? If anything, deep down he'd been hoping to see grandchildren sooner rather than later. It was my mother who, unlike Father, had told me to go on and live my life treasuring some good woman.

And unlike my mother, who had looked at me as if I were a monster, Father had worried about nothing except me and my future. Mom walked out on Dad — a man possessed by nothing but his work — and on me, in the middle of becoming her daughter-turned-son. No... was it really Dad's workaholism she so despised? Or was it me she had hated all along?

I knew already. Knew she wouldn't come back, no matter how long I waited. The days stretched on, and Mother never returned. I wasn't sad. No — I didn't even feel bad. Because the look on Mom's face whenever she spoke to me had always given me the answer in advance. I'd had time to prepare my heart, too. Collapsing afterward, my health in free fall once the changes to my body began — that came later. More worn down than my flagging mind was my body itself. When I came to, I was in a hospital bed, and Dad had gathered medical specialists and pharmaceutical companies around me for my sake.

I didn't know what he had to be sorry for. I knew how hard Dad was trying. For my own part, I studied like a madman, desperate to cure my own condition. Twelve years old. An age for running wild, and I was desperate. I figured nobody knew my body better than I did, so it had to be me who studied and found the answer. All a body as broken as mine could manage was sitting at a desk, studying, or reading. The body that had been shooting up at a terrifying pace simply stopped growing. To fill the hollow where my heart used to be, I read novels in every hour I wasn't studying. The first novel I ever read was Gaon-noona's debut. The Lee Suho who used to click his tongue at the pathetic antics of the boys at school simply ceased to exist — all that remained was a Lee Suho whose head had been seized, overnight, by an all-consuming interest in sex.

Getting paper books smuggled into the hospital room grew more cumbersome by the day, so I turned to web novels instead. And in the middle of all that, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠when Gaon-noona began publishing adult novels, I begged Father to have them bound for me — after all, Novel World ran a premium service that sold bound print editions. With the barrier of the age check behind me, I found myself murmuring the heroine's name over and over, again and again, through Gaon-noona's eyes.

The period that had felt like a monthly torment stopped coming. It was a relief, and yet it felt strange. After resenting it as such a burden all that time, losing something that had been mine left an oddly unsettled feeling behind. Of course my period had stopped. Something that had never existed before had appeared in its place. Someone who, it seemed, suffered from the same condition I did — writing things that could plausibly happen. Someone who wrote essays in the disguise of novels, or so it felt, and I grew attached to that person. I kept falling deeper into whatever they wrote, until at some point it was as if I'd become the protagonist of those novels myself.

"Haah..."

This house, every single time I came here, kept dredging up old memories. It wasn't even the home I'd lived in with Mom, so why did it only ever call up the past? A traditional hanok, hopelessly out of place in the heart of Gangnam, and an awkward fit for a man of Father's bulk at that — yet he stubbornly insisted this house was the one he loved. Every time I asked why, that distant look would cross his face, and because I hated seeing it, I could never bring myself to ask again...

"Father. I'm here."

"Ah, Suho. You made it."

"Yes."

Maybe if I sweet-talk Gaon-noona into asking him someday, he'll actually answer.

It was Father who had opposed me when I announced I would build a management arm. Between the steel industry he had always run and the pharmaceutical company I actually operated, those two alone were more than enough; when I abruptly declared I would also be running publishing and talent-management companies on top of them, naturally he'd pushed back. But the moment the conversation turned to Gaon-noona, his stance flipped entirely around. And when I told him she was the person who'd marked the turning point — the reason I'd finally begun to accept my life as a man — what he said in reply was funnier still.

Father, all but egging me on, his laughter brimming with life — it had truly been ages since I'd seen that.

My life's benefactor, he says...

In a small country like Korea, a person's real name plus the handle they used most could dig ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠up a surprising amount. Gaon-noona had made her living on the web, so the sheer volume of material was a stroke of fortune that had smiled on me. With every new piece of evidence that she must be an ASCS patient, I found myself gladder and gladder — sorry, Noona.

A body whose sex had already changed once — whether it changed again or stayed as is, it made no difference to me.

Whichever Gaon emerged, I was ready. The treatment was ready, too. All I needed was time to build a bond with Gaon-noona. And, as the pretext for it, Noona's serialization. Not that I had no wish to see Noona's stories carried through to their endings—

"Where's Yeji-noona?"

"In her room, sorting through paperwork — on your orders, I hear. Did you come alone?"

"Yes. Why did you call for me?"

"Well... it's about that Song Gaon person. The one you're living with."

"Yes."

My guess hadn't been wrong. Noona's name came up right off the bat, which was, if anything, a relief. I'd already thought through every question I could foresee, so naturally my answers were all prepared as well.

"Is she holding up all right?"

"...I'm sorry?"

Hearing the reply that popped out of me before I could stop it — the question had caught me completely off guard — Father looked a touch sheepish as he answered.

"You had a rough time of it at first yourself, remember."

Does he still see me as the little kid from my elementary school days?

Which was fair enough, really. I still had a few months to go before I legally became an adult.

If not for that, there would have been no need to keep Father at the head of the company in my place...

"There's no sign of anything yet. We'll have to keep observing a while longer."

"I see. So when is this formal introduction happening?"

Tipping his head back toward the ceiling was one of Father's oldest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠habits — something he did whenever embarrassment crept up on him.

Why on earth does he go and say the whole thing first, then get shy about it afterward...?

"What introduction would she be coming for?"

At my question, it was Father who looked startled.

"Why so surprised? I heard that when they file that person's paperwork this time, they're submitting the marriage registration along with it?"

"Who is?"

The marriage registration was my last resort. A trump card meant to be laid at Noona's feet as a plea, if she ever tried to run. I couldn't begin to follow how anyone was supposed to have gone and filed it already.

"Yeji."

"I'm sorry — WHAT?!"

When I had first laid everything out for Yeji-noona, I had told her that the marriage registration would be filed as well. I'd calculated that Noona would bolt at least two or three times over the course of the serialization. I'd even worked out in advance how I would coax her back when she did.

Not that I ever meant for it to happen right this second!

"Where's Yeji-noona?"

"Her room, I imagine."

"Dad! Excuse me just a moment!"

"Go on, then."

Living under the same roof. Being my older cousin besides. I'd assumed there would always be another chance to talk — and that was exactly where I'd gone wrong.

"Yeji-noooona!!!"