Yoon Ji-ah - Discharge (1)

Han Seo-yeon opened the treatment room door, immaculate as ever in her white doctor's coat, a clipboard in hand.

Her gaze lingered on my face for a moment. She must have seen the tear stains.

"Yoon Ji-ah. This is your confirmation exam following the Final Discharge. Please lean back and slide ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the blanket down below your waist."

She said it flatly, unfolding her clipboard without a hint of reaction.

I glanced sideways on reflex, and Althea gave a small nod. It's okay.

At that look, I lowered the blanket. It would have mortified me before, but my male parts were gone now, so there was nothing left to be ashamed of. If anything, the wish to hear myself confirmed healthy outweighed everything else.

Han Seo-yeon pulled on gloves and approached, her red eyes calmly sweeping over my lower abdomen and groin.

"The male genitalia have fully regressed. The testicles are gone, and the Magic Circle has been released without complication."

She pressed a fingertip lightly against the skin of my lower abdomen. Cold latex met my flesh, and nothing rose to meet it. Han Seo-yeon's gaze dipped a little lower.

"Clitoral reformation confirmed. Hypersensitivity may persist for a few days. If there's pain, take the prescribed medication."

The clinical verdict of a physician — but to my ears it rang like a celebration, a green light to walk out of here and back into my ordinary life.

Han Seo-yeon stripped off her gloves, jotted something quickly on the clipboard, and tapped the paper with the tip of her pen.

"Your residual mana levels are within the normal range, based on the Final Discharge volume and absorption rate Nurse Althea measured. No further hospitalization is required." She raised her head. "I will issue the discharge order."

Tomorrow I'm going downtown with my friends! We'll catch a movie, then stop by a cafe for dessert.

I let out a silent cheer.

"For one week after discharge, avoid strenuous exercise, alcohol, and strong sexual stimulation. Take your medication at the prescribed times, and return for an outpatient follow-up in three days. If you notice any unusual symptoms, contact the hospital immediately."

"Yes, Doctor!"

"And—"

Han Seo-yeon closed the clipboard. Her red eyes looked straight at me.

"You endured it well."

Althea smiled faintly beside me, and I bowed my head to Han Seo-yeon.

"Thank you, Doctor."

Han Seo-yeon offered no particular response, only a nod. She was walking toward the door when she paused.

"Nurse Althea, please help the patient back to the ward. I'll handle the discharge paperwork myself."

"Yes, Doctor."

The door closed, and once again only Althea and I remained in the treatment room.

The patient uniform had been laid out neatly beside the bed. Althea lifted the top and handed it to me.

"Can you manage?"

"I'll give it a try."

My shoulders trembled slightly as I slid my arms in. Althea reached over to help with the buttons, then stopped herself. "Would you rather do it yourself?"

I nodded and fumbled the buttons through one by one, clumsy at it.

When I pulled on the bottoms, the Y-shaped opening at the front caught my eye. It existed to let a swollen male organ through — a hole I no longer had any use for. Wait, though — in my current state, wouldn't that show off my... female side? Self-conscious, I hitched the waistband higher, but my eyes kept drifting down anyway. Nothing jutted out the way it used to, yet through the opening, the top of my sex hovered at the very edge of sight, almost showing.

Althea took her place beside me and held out an arm. "Hold on to me if you get dizzy walking."

"Okay."

I climbed down from the bed. Everything between my legs felt light — so light that walking itself felt unfamiliar; the habit of moving around a male organ still lived in my body. Althea gently supported my elbow from the side.

"Slowly."

Corridor air drifted in, and the pheromone scent particular to the fourth-floor ward brushed past my nose. I breathed in slowly. Nothing happened. The sweet scent of pheromones, the hospital air, the faint murmur of voices from the distant Nurse Station. Savoring a body that no longer reacted, I set one foot in front of the other.

Althea stopped at the door of my room. "I'll wait out here while you pack. Call if you need help."

"You're not coming in with me?"

Althea blinked — the face of someone who hadn't seen that question coming. "If you'd like, I will."

I hesitated a moment. Over the past few days in that room, Althea had seen so much of me. My crying face, the shameful sight of me buckling and flinching, drenched in pleasure. She had already seen everything there was to see; letting her watch me pack one last time hardly mattered.

"Stay with me, please."

"Of course."

I opened the door and went in. On the chair lay the hoodie and sweatpants I'd worn on the day of my admission, folded together with my black puffer jacket. I picked up the sweatpants. The stains that had clung to the inner thigh were gone, laundered out of existence.

"I can just wear these out, right?"

"Yes. You won't need compression underwear or tape anymore."

"I'll have to throw those out, then."

"You'll never use them again, so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it's for the best," Althea said gently.

I opened my bag and began gathering my things. I had rushed here in such a panic that there was hardly anything worth calling luggage. What am I going to tell Mom? She'll be delighted when I call to say I'm discharged. Ah — what if she asks the name of the hospital again? And Soo-bin will insist we go out for Korean BBQ, and I still have to submit a medical certificate to my professor... I packed the worries away with everything else and zipped the bag shut. Althea swept the room with her eyes, checking that nothing was being left behind.

Watching her, I opened my mouth. "Nurse?"

"Yes?"

"I... once I'm discharged, I can't come back here, can I?"

Althea's hand paused for an instant on the nightstand. "You have to come for your outpatient follow-up in three days." She seemed about to say something more, then closed her mouth.

What else was I going to say? This is a hospital, not a cafe — do discharged patients really come back just to see their nurse?

Althea regarded me for a moment, then smiled. "Healthy people shouldn't visit hospitals too often."

"I... suppose not."

"But if you come up to the fourth floor for your appointment, we can see each other."

"In three days?"

"Yes."

I must have grown fond of Nurse Althea over these days of treatment — I kept chatting away at her without even meaning to.

I pulled on the hoodie, then the sweatpants. After hauling them up, I reached into my crotch out of pure habit, adjusting for a cock that had always needed adjusting. Flat. Oh. Right — it's gone now.

Althea watched, smiling quietly to herself. "I've only ever seen you in the patient uniform — put you in regular clothes and you really do look like a college student. It suits you."

"These are just the gray pants I wear to class."

"Which is exactly why they suit you."

Fully dressed, I stood in front of the mirror.

Myself from the day I entered the hospital — hugging my bag hard against my stomach as I stood at the front desk — overlapped with my reflection. Now the bag hung from one shoulder. I let out a breath of relief and stepped out of the room.

Althea was already waiting in the corridor outside. Her cardigan sat neatly over her uniform, her ID badge swaying gently at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her chest. Perhaps because of the Final Discharge treatment, a trace of fatigue lingered at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the corners of her eyes.

I stole a glance at the panel beside the door. My name was still glowing there.

Before long, another name would take its place.

Althea came up beside me. "I'll walk you down to Administration."

"Do you do the dedicated-nurse service for discharged patients too?"

"You were my patient, Ji-ah. I don't do this for everyone else." Althea tossed the remark out half-jokingly, and I found myself tightening my grip on the bag strap.

We walked toward the elevator. At the end of the corridor, the female orc guard glanced at us once and nodded. As we passed the Nurse Station, another succubus nurse waved at Althea.

"Althea, seeing a patient off?"

"Yes. A routine discharge."

"Congratulations to you," the unfamiliar nurse said, smiling at me. I ducked my head awkwardly. "Thank you..."

"Though it's been a while since I've seen you escort a patient out."

"She was a good girl who listened well. The least I can do is see her to the entrance." Althea waved at her colleague with a smile.

We stood in front of the elevator. Reflected in its doors: a succubus nurse, and a slightly worn-out college student.

When we reached the first floor, the lobby I'd first come through came into view. Althea walked slowly at my side. "Administration is over there. You just settle the bill and stop by the pharmacy." I nodded.

In one corner of the lobby, a woman with her hood pulled low sat in one of the waiting chairs, hugging a bag tight across her knees, her legs pressed together awkwardly. Me, a few days ago. I looked at her for a heartbeat, then fixed my eyes ahead — staring felt like an intrusion. It gets better. I offered the words silently and kept walking.

"Shall we, Ji-ah?"

"Yes."

I sat down at the Administration window and gave my name.

"Ms. Yoon Ji-ah, your out-of-pocket total — including your days of hospitalization and meals — comes to this amount. Will you be paying by card?" the clerk said, eyes on her monitor.

I had expected the hospital bill to be steep, but it came out smaller than I'd feared. The syndrome was a designated national special condition, covered by national health insurance — that's what they'd told me. With so many women out there suffering and sinking into despair the way I had, I supposed the state had stepped in to help. Before the first futanari treatment hospital was ever established, I used to see news stories every so often about women taking their own lives over the sexual confusion and the depression.

I pushed my debit card into the terminal and keyed in my PIN. Beep! — krrrt. The payment cleared, and the printer began spitting out a receipt.

"Here's your discharge confirmation and outpatient appointment slip. You're booked for eleven in the morning, three days from now. The pharmacy is at the end of the right-hand corridor."

"Thank you very much."

Envelope of documents in hand, I turned around — Althea was standing a little way off. She had stepped toward the wall to stay out of the other people's way in the lobby, hands folded neatly in front of her. It felt strangely awkward, seeing her here. I was used to her on the fourth-floor ward, not standing slightly lost in a first-floor lobby — like a succubus from a secret treatment room suddenly let loose onto the main street.

As I approached, Althea tilted her head a little. "All done with the bill?"

"Yes. It went faster than I expected."

"There weren't many outpatients today, that's all. The pharmacy won't take long either."

She was right. Only one person stood waiting at the pharmacy counter. I pulled a number ticket and took a seat, and Althea came and stood beside me. I almost told her to sit down, but the picture of a nurse standing by like a guardian felt so natural that I let it be. She wasn't even assigned to this floor, yet she was waiting until I had my medicine in hand. It genuinely moved me.

Instruction posters lined the pharmacy wall.

My gaze snagged, of all places, on the red lettering of sexual stimulation, and I had to drag it over to the vitamin ad beside it.

The pharmacist handed me the paper bag of medicine. Twice a day after meals, and no heavy drinking the day before the outpatient visit — so the instructions read. Not that I had any plans to get drunk, but I was still going to have my beer.

Once the medicine bag went into my bag too, it was truly over. All that remained in my hands was a single envelope of paperwork, clothes steeped in the smell of the hospital, and a body that felt lighter than it had in days.

Althea looked toward the lobby's glass doors and asked, "Will you take a taxi? Or the bus?"