Sick Visit: Alone at Home with My Ultimate Bias
My heart pounded like mad. A sick visit. Alone in the house with my ultimate bias——— I never dreamed she'd be without her glasses. I'd stumbled inside on impulse, but was this really okay?
...Should I just leave now?
As I hesitated in the entryway, Siyeon, who'd opened the door for me, staggered with a sickly, pallid face. She couldn't even support her own body properly. She looked like she might collapse any second. I rushed to support her and led her to the master bedroom, laying her down on the bed. Ga-young quietly surveyed the room.
This is Siyeon's—no, Ruti's room...
It was far more ordinary than I'd imagined. The narrow space, about five pyeong, held just a bed, desk, wardrobe, and full-length mirror—nothing else. It was plainer than the average girl's room, let alone an idol's. There wasn't the slightest trace of decoration. The only feminine touch was a teddy bear fallen under the bed. Its fur was slightly matted, suggesting she hugged it to sleep. Probably one of those attachment plushies.
"Ahem!"
Using the excuse of picking it up, I hugged the teddy bear from the floor. A soft texture and faint, fresh scent wafted over me. I spaced out for a moment, then quickly set it down and shook my head vigorously. Why was I here? Just to check on a sick friend, as class president, nothing more.
"Siyeon, how's your body feeling?"
Siyeon lay limp on the bed, breathing laboriously. Seeing her like that left Ga-young stunned once more. Her small, doll-like face; the fine strands of hair disheveled over the snowy white bedding; her flushed, porcelain skin. I hesitate to say it, but even her sick appearance was beautiful. And this was right after waking up—no makeup or anything. As a fellow girl, it was beyond astonishing; it was awe-inspiring.
Then our eyes met. Her gaze was unfocused and hazy, probably delirious from the fever. She didn't even seem aware she wasn't wearing her glasses.
"Let me check your temperature real quick."
I brushed back her bangs and leaned in to press my forehead against hers. Each breath carried a subtle minty aroma.
"You have a bit of a fever. Did you take any medicine?"
Too weak to speak, Siyeon just nodded faintly. For now, I soaked a towel in water and placed it on her forehead. It seemed to help—her expression relaxed.
"Need anything else?"
"...Mm."
Siyeon pondered for a moment, then placed a hand on her stomach and murmured softly.
"...I'm hungry."
Normally, she'd say "I'm fine" with a stoic face. But now, she was making requests with a spoiled, childlike expression.
Is she... acting cute with me right now?
My heart skipped. This was nothing like the Siyeon at school, or even the one on TV—the vibe was totally different. It happens sometimes: kids who get softer and more childish when sick. Ga-young felt relieved inwardly. I'd worried she might find me annoying, but this dependence made me oddly happy.
"I bought some food just in case—mind if I borrow your kitchen?"
With her permission, I headed straight to the kitchen. I tied on an apron hanging nearby and laid out the ingredients from the mart on the cutting board. Ga-young swallowed hard in silence. In my 17 years, the only things I'd ever cooked were instant ramen and three-minute curry. Now I had to serve my first real attempt to none other than my ultimate bias. How could I not be nervous?
...It's just veggie porridge, it'll be fine.
I rolled up my sleeves with forced confidence and got to work—time was short. On my phone propped by the cutting board, a VerTube video titled How to Make Veggie Porridge played. Following it step by step, I prepped the ingredients meticulously. Soon, a decent-looking meal was ready. Not bad for a first try. The taste should be good t———one bite, and my face crumpled.
"Wh-what is this...?"
The rice was undercooked, and it was way too salty. I'd followed the instructions exactly, but the result was the opposite. The grains weren't evenly cooked. I should remake it, but I lacked the courage. As I hesitated, time ticked away.
She said she's hungry...
No more delays. Time for my secret weapon: Mom Chance. I called her right away.
"Put some sesame oil in the pot, add rice and minced garlic, and lightly stir-fry. Just enough to coat with aroma."
"Got it! Next?"
With help from my cooking-pro mom, I finished the porridge successfully. This time, the seasoning was perfect, and the rice cooked evenly.
"Thanks, Mom."
"Why porridge all of a sudden? You sick?"
"Not me—a friend is under the weather."
"What kind of friend has you cooking something you've never done before...?"
Mom's voice trembled faintly over the line.
"Kinda busy now—I'll explain when I get home."
"Wait, is this friend a b——!"
She seemed desperate to ask something, but no time—I hung up. Explanations could wait till home. I prettily plated the finished porridge and took it to the room. Starving, Siyeon hadn't slept and was waiting, still dazed. I handed it over carefully, and she took a spoonful right away.
Ga-young watched her reaction anxiously.
"H-how is it...?"
Siyeon swallowed and nodded. A spark of life flickered in her unfocused eyes.
"...Tasty."
She took another bite. Her pace quickened. Seeing her devour it eased the tension in my chest.
"...Phew."
She polished off the bowl in no time. First cooking attempt: a huge success. But why were Mom's calls nonstop?
"I did the dishes. Need anything else?"
It was already 9 p.m. Parents would worry; time to head home. Before leaving, I checked one last time.
"...Hot."
Siyeon kicked off the blanket with a uncomfortable grimace. Summer plus fever meant she was sweaty.
"...Turn on the AC."
"No way—you have a cold."
"...Too hot."
She whined like a little kid—a rare sight never seen at school or on TV. I nearly caved.
"Still, no AC."
"You're mean."
"If you insist..."
Ga-young fiddled with a freshly soaked clean towel. Absolutely no ulterior motives. This is pure medical care. Rationalizing it to myself, I swallowed.
"...Want me to wipe your sweat?"
I woke feeling refreshed, sitting up in bed. My body light, mind clear, the fever pressing on my forehead completely gone.
"This body's back."
I drew the curtains, and warm morning sunlight flooded the room. After a full day's sleep, my cold was gone. Healed in just one day—who knew? I could go to school today.
I headed to the bathroom to wash up. But something felt off in the sink mirror's reflection.
...What's this unease?
I examined my reflection closely. Soon, I pinpointed it.
"When did I change?"
I was in different pajamas. The ones I'd worn before sleep were in the laundry.
"Hmm."
I retraced my memories carefully. Last thing: texting the teacher I'd miss school. After that, total blackout. No memory of changing.
"...Do I have sleepwalking?"
Entering the classroom, one empty seat caught my eye: Ga-young's.
She'd skipped today, unusually.
...The girl who's never absent once?
I approached a classmate close to her and asked cautiously.
"Something up with Ga-young?"
"Caught a cold."
Her? A cold? Did she get caught in the rain like me?
Ding♪
I was at my desk prepping for class when a text from Manager unni came.
And a photo of a red dress.
"Oh yeah, tomorrow's the day."
The premiere for Want to Reach You, which I'd been anticipating. Too busy, I'd forgotten completely.
"That premiere ticket real?"
"Yeah, super hard to get."
"Jealous. I failed ticketing..."
A girl was bragging to her friends. It was my movie. I watched half-excited, half-worried.
First premiere, first time in a dress. Would I pull it off? So many concerns.
...Hope the dress suits me.