The More Uncomfortable Thing

This time I was the one who glanced around in a hurry.

No one could possibly have heard us. So why did I feel like I was sitting on a bed of nails?

"...Do you want to watch me turn into an animal?"

"Isn't it the other way around? You're being way too innocent. Put that size of yours to some use."

"Earlier, on the bed, when I..."

"..."

The air between us, sharp with bickering a moment ago, sank as if the whole fight had been a lie. The faint color in Serin's cheeks flared all at once. She grabbed at empty air several times before she finally managed to close her hand around her cup.

If I was honest, it wouldn't have been wrong to say that neither I nor Baek Serin had any real experience with the opposite sex. Through the school years when everyone else was dating, the two of us had been too busy fighting, and neither of us had ever let another romantic interest in. Forget anything like touching—we spent our days trading insults and going at each other. Even a hug had been a first for us, today. We could talk a good game, and the moment the situation actually arrived we turned into idiots. That was the kind of pair we were.

...Change the subject. This air might still be too heavy for us.

"Hey. Your parents haven't called yet?"

"...No."

"...You went to the trouble of getting dressed up. Nothing you want to do?"

"...Dunno."

The conversation snapped clean off. I thought about pretending nothing had happened and just going home, but honestly, it felt like a waste. The days Baek Serin got dressed up in front of me could be counted on one hand. Going back without doing anything seemed a little too precious to throw away.

"Then how about we duck into a manga cafe or something."

"...Out of nowhere? That really doesn't suit you."

"You're not in sneakers. Can you keep walking?"

"...Ah, um..."

That was why I'd already crossed a walk in the nearby park off the list, even after considering it. Why she'd shown up in heeled shoes, so unlike her, I had no idea.

Serin fidgeted for a long while, took a tight sip through her straw, and only then let her voice out, late.

"...If I say walking's hard, will you give ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me a piggyback?"

"Hey. You want to go around like that in broad daylight?"

"That's not what I asked. I asked if you'd carry me."

"...I could do that much. Ah. Let me think about it."

Even so, doing it on a street with a fair amount of foot traffic felt like it would draw every eye. Changing her shoes would have been one thing. And more than that, if she got on my back, then... no.

"Honestly. You do fine, and then you clam up every single time."

"Buying shoes would be faster."

"...Hey. You just thought something weird again."

"...What are you, a mind reader?"

"You actually did? Wow. You pervert..."

"..."

I was seriously going to lose it. If she was going to talk like that, she could at least stop draping herself across the table. She was the one openly reminding me, so what was she so proud of.

...She probably was proud.

"...Coward."

"..."

"...Impotent bastard."

"...Stop."

"...Can't even eat what's put in front of you..."

"Hold on. That's not true."

I'd meant to keep quiet, figuring that opening my mouth would only wear me out. This one I couldn't let pass.

Baek Serin watched me through narrowed eyes. Now and then her lips twitched as if she had a complaint, and then she tacked on a blunt line.

"What's not true."

"What are you even saying—put in front of me... forget it."

"...It's just a saying."

"Don't. That one's a little much."

"...If you hate it, fine. But the impotent part is right, isn't it?"

"...Ha."

How did she never once try to lose? And the moment she actually climbed onto the bed, she couldn't even meet my eyes.

...Was I the same?

We traded looks in silence for a long while, and then Baek Serin's phone went off.

I nodded for her to check it. Only then did she drop her gaze to the screen. She tapped it a couple of times, let out a short breath, and snapped her head up.

"Hey. They said they're done?"

"Already?"

"Yeah. And I don't know what it is, but they said they left a present too."

"...That feels a little ominous."

If it had been her father, I might not have thought twice. Of all people, it was her mother, and the air felt thick with nothing but bad omens. The message I'd seen that morning was the same. A nameless unease kept rising.

Phone still in hand, Serin stared at my glass—empty by now—and added,

"...Should we head back for now?"

"You don't mind? Going back like this?"

"Mind what?"

Baek Serin tilted her head as if she didn't understand. Maybe I was the only one making a fuss.

"The makeup. Isn't it a waste?"

"...This? I did it so I'd hear you say I look pretty."

"...So. Are you satisfied?"

"Mm... I am... no? Say it one more time."

Serin flushed, quiet, and shot me a look packed with expectation. The words didn't wear out from use, and they weren't hard to say. Did it really feel that good?

"...You look pretty today."

"...Only today?"

"...Usually, too."

"...Hee."

Baek Serin broke into a foolish smile at once. Whether she realized late that we were outside, she cleared her throat and got up.

I watched her quietly, then stood as well.

Pretty. The word wouldn't stick to my mouth at all. It was also something I'd never said before.

...Still. Once in a while, maybe it was all right.

"Ha, hah, hff..."

"...Want a piggyback?"

"Ah, no... I, I'm, sweaty..."

"..."

Fifteen floors, on foot. For someone who never exercised, it must have been a bit much. She'd refused when I said we should change her shoes, and she'd refused a piggyback because of the sweat. By the time we finally reached the door, Serin was breathing out over and over, trying to steady her rough breath. The sight looked a little pitiful. I stepped over and gently brushed a few stray strands of hair off her face.

Baek Serin startled and backed away.

"Ha— hey, hey—!! I said I'm sweaty, I'm sweaty..."

"I don't care."

"...I caaare..."

"Ah. Yes."

She didn't even smell of sweat, but it clearly bothered her anyway. Maybe I was being inconsiderate. The messy hair annoyed me, but we were at the door now, so it was probably fine.

I opened the front door first and turned. Baek Serin slipped through the gap as if she'd been waiting. I was fairly ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠surprised she still had the energy to move that fast. The steps that followed hers into the apartment came to a dead stop. Baek Serin, ahead of me, stopped too.

We rolled our eyes like people whose souls had left them, staring at a room that was no longer the one we had left.

A leather sofa in the living room. A big television. Up to there, nothing was seriously wrong. The TV—well, deliveries were fast these days. But that chair with the suspicious curve? A sofa? That was...

...No. Just a chair.

I was letting out a dry laugh when I realized Baek Serin had vanished from in front of me. I wondered where she'd gone, and then her voice came from not far off.

"...Hey, hey—! The bed—!!"

That one word sent a slow crawl of dread up my spine. I dragged heavy steps to the room, and sure enough.

"...Where's my bed."

A queen-size bed sat squarely against one side of the room. The bed that had been with me all through adulthood was gone without a trace. I hadn't planned to move my bed out to the living room anyway, so it shouldn't have mattered...

"Hey... must be nice, getting to sleep in all that space?"

"...Ha. I hate this more."

The answer came straight back to a line I'd tossed out without thinking. Serin's oddly cooled voice threw me.

She picked up a small sticky note lying on the bed, scanned it for a brief moment, and handed it to me. Wondering what this was, I looked. Two cramped hands filled it densely. The first thing I saw was my name. It seemed my mother had written it on her way out.

...Quick on the uptake. Was that why she'd gotten rid of the bed?

My eyes drifted down as if I were reading a book. This part was even worse.

I was about to hand the note back to Serin when a tiny line at the very bottom caught my eye. Writing scrawled as if in a rush. A messy strikethrough drawn over it.

I blinked, blank, and the strength left the hand holding the sticky note.

"...Hey, what's wrong?"

"...No. It's nothing."

"What does it say? I gave it to you because your name was on it."

"...Your name's on it too."

I bent, picked the note up, and turned my head, suddenly awkward. Baek Serin took the chilling notice that had barely been hanging from my fingertips.

Not long after, as if we'd promised, we both shut our mouths.

Serin silently dropped the sticky note in the trash and, late, let out a low voice.

"...I'm sweaty, so I'm going to wash up."

"...Yeah."

The steps that had been about to pass me suddenly braked. Her gaze was on the wardrobe set against one side of the room. I followed it. The thing was somehow quite large. Now that I thought about it, I didn't see the wardrobe I'd left out in the living room either.

...

At the same moment, as if we'd both remembered something, my eyes met Baek Serin's. Two sets of urgent footsteps headed for the wardrobe.

We each took a handle and opened the doors.

One divider stood in the middle. Completely different clothes hung on either side. Both of our wardrobes, in other words, had been packed into one. Even then, Serin's clothes filled it far more densely.

...Did they really have to gather everything like this? Why on earth had they gotten rid of my perfectly good wardrobe?

"...Whoa. I did not see this coming."

"...Yes!"

"...What?"

We were clearly looking at the same thing, and yet a completely different reaction burst out of Baek Serin's mouth. I turned my head slightly to her profile. The corner of her mouth was faintly lifted.

...Ah.

Come to think of it, there was also what she'd said on the phone before. Her reaction to the bed disappearing had been oddly cold. And looking at her now.

...

"...Do you actually have a smell fetish?"

"...Shut up."

"...Pervert."

"Shi— uh, hey, wait a second."

Baek Serin, flushed hard a moment ago, went flat in an instant. She turned toward the wardrobe, bent her knees, and quietly opened the lowest shelf.

Wondering what it was, I stepped closer, and she blocked my view with her upper body. Like someone hiding something that shouldn't be shown.

...Ah. That one would be a little much to show.

I turned to leave the room, and Serin's voice caught my feet.

"...Hey. Min Eunhyeon. Just... don't get the wrong idea, and listen?"

"...What now."

"...There's only one drawer...?"

"...That's not funny."

On the off chance, I quietly looked past her. The lower compartment was one single space. Not two levels. One.

So all the underwear was in there? Mine included? And the people who had sorted it were each of our parents?

...What kind of situation was this?

"I'll sort mine out separately later, so leave it for now."

"...Then all of my underwear is on display too."

"Throw some clothes over it. Or take yours out first."

"...Or else... um... hey, I did buy it meaning to show you someday, but..."

Serin's voice had been quiet. She rummaged through the wardrobe several times, her shoulders jumped, and then she suddenly let out a long breath.

...Instinct screamed. Get out of here first.

"...Hey, can't I just wait outside while you sort it?"

"...Thaaat. Do you remember what I said earlier?"

"...No. I don't. Stop."

"I... don't wear underwear at home..."

Did she have any intention of listening to me? Something about Baek Serin seemed a little off.

"...Why does that matter."

Another silence. Her shoulders rose and fell, large, as if she'd made up her mind. She slowly straightened, something clutched tight against her chest, and turned only her head.

A face gone deep red. Whether a faint hesitation remained, her lips parted a couple of times.

"...Hey. Since it's come to this... pick one."

"...Pick what."

I was uneasy. I didn't know exactly why, but I was uneasy. I couldn't predict what would come out of that mouth. Through slightly narrowed eyes, pupils that were eerily calm were aimed at me. This was the look of someone with nothing left behind her.

"...Should I go without, or..."

"..."

My words had already jammed. All I could do was watch Baek Serin swallow her shame and slowly turn her upper ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠body toward me.

Black showing through the gaps of a tightly closed hand. And slender fingers beginning, slowly, to open.

"Should I... wear this..."

"..."

My gaze stuck for a while on the black lingerie opened in front of me. A design whose only purpose was tempting a man.

Late, I lifted my eyes to Serin's face. Both cheeks and her ears burning red. Shoulders gone rigid. All the way to fingertips trembling fine.

...

...She'd made up her mind.