Chapter 6
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: DID
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In front of the sterile room, the hospital director reviewed the CCTV footage alongside Professor Lee from the Department of Psychiatry.
"So, you're saying Professor Lee that this looks like DID—Dissociative Identity Disorder?"
"It seems that way. Something utterly unbelievable has already happened... but the symptoms themselves match DID perfectly. DID usually involves two or more personalities, so another one might surface later. This current personality is extremely sensitive to 'desires,' though."
"A personality that blackmails with self-harm while smiling, just to satisfy its own desires..."
"We need to get her out of the sterile room as quickly as possible. She's showing extreme disgust toward white colors and isolated spaces. But this personality retreats immediately once its desire is fulfilled? That's... incredibly unique. It's different from typical DID... The created personality even knows it's not the original one. The symptoms fit, but it's not a classic case."
"Heh. This patient's case could easily produce an SCI-level paper. Tempting, isn't it, Professor Lee?"
"It'd be a lie to say it wasn't. This patient has exhibited so many different symptoms, after all. There could be case reports from other departments besides Psychiatry."
"Exactly. Especially for this patient— a heart transplant is essential."
"...A heart transplant?"
"Yes. Her heart is disproportionately large compared to her body. We're managing it with medication for now... but with such a small frame and an oversized heart, her activity levels have noticeably dropped. Her blood volume is low, yet the heart is too big. Without meds, heart function will keep declining until it stops. And if she grows more, the heart could enlarge further... making it impossible to control with drugs alone. We've already put her on the transplant waiting list, but this is an extreme case of cardiac hypertrophy."
"A pediatric heart transplant..."
"We'll entrust it to Chair Professor Hwang. So, what's your plan for the DID?"
"It's tricky. Psychiatric disorders don't require surgery—they're mainly treated with meds and counseling. DID can't be fixed with medication... and this patient has been through something truly inexplicable. The drastic physical changes are the cause, but we can't reverse that. Excluding the heart, are her other organs normal? Liver and kidneys?"
"Mm, we'll check one by one if no viruses are detected. She's conscious now, and no viruses or bacteria were found."
"Holding off might be an option. Or we could use sedatives during procedures. The patient has a strong aversion to the hospital. She's had so many tests already that she likely has trauma from them too. Psychological stress could trigger another personality."
"Noted. Call me if you need anything. Contact me separately for data."
"Yes, sir. Please let me know when the patient regains full consciousness."
"Will do."
"Yaaawn~"
A truly refreshing morning after so long. Waking up after sedatives always left my head foggy, like it was wrapped in clouds. But this was so invigorating. Yeah, so what if my appearance and gender changed? As long as I'm not in pain.
Was it morning? Anyway, when I woke up, the blanket had turned blue. Great—anything but white. I'd grown sick of that color. Why was I so hungry, though? I'd eaten and slept...
"Ha."
It was kind of funny. When I was sick, I couldn't care less about food, but now my stomach was growling.
Now I really took in the sterile room. Smaller than I'd imagined, but it had everything. Bathroom, fridge. Next to my bed were all sorts of medical machines—I'd searched so much online that I knew roughly what they were for.
And naturally, there was a mirror in the bathroom. Drawn to it like a moth, I shuffled over. Still weak, I used the IV stand for support. In front of the mirror, I removed my mask.
"Mm..."
Pale. That repulsive color. Was this really Korean? Hair, eyebrows, skin, irises—even lips, all ghostly white. With her skinny limbs, she looked a bit like a corpse.
No vitality at all, but large eyes. A nose not high but not low either. Long eyelashes. Small mouth and ears. Sunken cheeks from lack of fat. Features so delicately packed onto such a small face that I absentmindedly thought, Nice how it all fits so neatly.
Perfectly doll-like if motionless. Her signature pallor made her seem inhuman, even to my own eyes.
And small. Height? I used to be about 175 cm... How could I shrink like this? No, to begin with...
Is this me?
My hair, which had all fallen out, now reached my shoulders? In just three days? I stared blankly at the mirror until my stomach churned, then returned to bed.
Oh, there's the call button. I pressed it, and less than a minute later, a voice responded.
-You're awake. Do you need anything?
"...Could I get some food, by any chance?"
-Right away. It's just porridge for now—is that okay?
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
Was that my voice? Suddenly, I recalled a movie I'd enjoyed: the one where the protagonist's life is broadcast live 24/7 in a world where friends, family, and everything are fabricated. I still remembered his catchphrase.
"And good morning. If I don't see you, good afternoon, good evening, and good night."
-Pardon? Oh... Good morning to you too, patient.
After finishing my meal, several professors visited me. Their eyes sparkled with excitement. Yeah, where else would you find an experimental subject like this?
A patient who'd suffered every symptom under the sun with no clear cause, finally died. Then revived three days later—completely changed gender and appearance.
They cautiously proposed tests, and I agreed. I'd made a deal with the director, after all, and these were the people who'd worked tirelessly to save me.
And then, the news I'd been dying to hear:
-Patient! Your mother is awake!
"C-Can I see Mom's face?"
-Um, probably not today. No viruses or bacteria detected, so you can leave the sterile room by tonight at the latest.
"Mm, could you move me then?"
-Yes, we'll prepare. Oh, you'll be going to the PICU, and due to security... the nurses there, well... How do I put this...
"Ah, I understand."
I swallowed a wry smile inwardly. Yeah, explaining this would be awkward.
-And the PICU might be tough... It's full of very sick children.
"Mm..."
PICU—Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. The ICU itself is for critical cases, and this one's all kids on the brink.
Still, people mattered. Solitary white confinement like this would drive me insane.
"...Please, anyway."
-Got it. We'll move you once ready.
Mom was awake. A huge weight lifted from my heart. What if I'd stayed dead? She might have... No, don't think like that.
Yeah, maybe God revived me to save her. Think positive. I haven't even properly repaid her yet.
Once discharged, I'll use the money to send her on a trip. How worried she must've been because of me.
-If there was a god, he wouldn't have made you sick to begin with. Don't you feel wronged?
What was that voice? My thought? No, this gloomy whisper lingering in my ear... Different from the last one.
I was moved to a new room. Due to identity issues, I got a private one in the PICU. Not locked in, though—they permitted leaving the room as long as I stayed within PICU.
Mostly white, but better. Mobiles for kids, anime stickers everywhere. Nurses in blue uniforms. Vastly superior to that nauseating sterile room.
Father and sister were already waiting in the new room.
"Ha-jin, how's your body feeling?"
"No lie—I'm really okay. No pain, at least."
"Thank goodness..."
As we talked, a masked doctor in a white coat entered. White—ugh, I hated it.
"Hello, patient."
"...Hello."
"Hello, Professor."
Being a chair professor, he looked mid-50s or older.
"Let's start with an echocardiogram."
"Okay."
I casually lifted my top, then flinched. An incredibly small, bony body stared back. Was this mine? The professor applied cold gel to the probe and rubbed it on my chest. Was it always this chilly?
"Hmm... A heart this enlarged in such a small frame...? You'll need a heart transplant, patient."
"...A heart transplant?"
Sister's voice trembled. Why? I'd already died once. Strangely, I felt nothing. This was borrowed time anyway.
As long as I could talk like this and say a final goodbye. That was enough.
"Yes, it's holding for now... but not for long."
"...How long can it last?"
"Hard to say definitively."
"First off, I won't be getting the transplant."
"...Pardon?"
"Ha-jin!"
"What are you saying!? No surgery!?"
My refusal prompted the professor's reflexive question, followed by Father's and sister's outbursts. But this was right. Even if it meant no discharge payout. It was the moral choice.
"Honestly, I'm just grateful I can say goodbye to Mom now... Professor. Aren't there many pediatric patients waiting for heart transplants?"
I met the professor's eyes squarely; he didn't look away.
"...Yes."
"Someone like me, whose entire life flipped overnight and died. Versus a child with a future. Whose life holds more value?"
"All lives have equal value."
"No, they don't. If I take that heart and live, what then? Look at this body—practically elementary school age. Should a 25-year-old reenroll? Friends, society, school—everything meaningless."
"Hey, you..."
"I'm already dead. Soon to die again... Let the heart go to other kids."
"...Professor, sorry. We'll discuss as a family first. We'll talk later."
"...Understood."
At Father's earnest plea, the professor nodded and left.
Click-clack.
The sound of prayer beads cut through, enveloping our family in silence.