It Doesn't Work
Something about all of this kept getting weirder by the day, and the stress was starting to pile up.
My chest ached so badly I had to wear a bra, my body no longer kept up the way it used to so I couldn’t even enjoy games properly, and I’d even gone through a woman’s period—my everyday life had stopped feeling like everyday life at all.
The sense of wrongness had been there from the beginning, but with Song Haneul right beside me I’d tried hard to just shrug it off and move on.
Simply putting up with the constant yapping next to me had already been eating every scrap of my attention.
But I wasn’t the only one changing. Because we’d swapped at the same time, I eventually had no choice but to face the fact that changes kept arriving on the other side as well.
Like Song Haneul casually showing me how he jerked off right in front of me, or demonstrating how a guy was supposed to style himself.
Looking for a solution was fine and all, but the post-nut clarity hit first.
“It’s been less than a week and I’ve already lost my edge.”
I muttered it while sitting on the sofa, game controller in hand.
With my physical stats tanked I’d switched over to single-player games, but even that choice was already filling me with self-loathing, so the depression picked up speed fast.
On anything even slightly harder, my eyes could somehow keep up, but my processing power couldn’t support it and I’d die almost immediately.
Game over. Every time I saw those words my chest throbbed. It almost felt like they were talking about my life, which made the whole thing even more bitter.
“Hey, Song Hamin. How long are you gonna keep ignoring me?”
“…What, would answering change anything?”
“I said I’m sorry. What do I have to do?”
“Forget it.”
There was nothing he needed to do. There hadn’t been anything to apologize for in the first place.
He looked frustrated, but the thought of adding unnecessary explanations made me decide it was better to just shut up. No point piling on extra words and infecting him with my weird mood.
No matter how hard I tried to think rationally, I was standing on ground that wouldn’t support me.
Trying to stay calm and judge things clearly wasn’t easy at all.
“This is frustrating.”
Watching Song Haneul make no effort to hide what he was feeling, I’d suddenly realize how severely down I was compared to usual and just keep letting out heavy sighs.
At this rate I’m going to get sick.
“Hey.”
“What, finally feel like talking?”
“The body swap—is it any easier for you?”
I wondered if I was the only one carrying these worries.
“What’s easy about it? I wake up hard every morning and it’s killing me.”
“Besides that.”
“Besides that… not being able to call or meet my friends?”
Song Haneul thought it over carefully, then folded his fingers one by one.
If we set aside the problems we both shared, he seemed to have surprisingly few worries left.
On top of that, he’d even taught me how to masturbate, so when the buildup finally needed release I could handle it myself—not exactly a major crisis.
Even if it was all because of libido, it wasn’t like I’d explode and die or anything.
“No big deal.”
Compared to the changes I was going through right now, they really were nothing.
I was experiencing every single hardship of living in a woman’s body.
Stacked against a man’s body, the inconvenient parts far outnumbered the convenient ones. With so many places that needed constant attention, there was a lot of annoyance and a lot of difficulty.
I was feeling with my whole body the struggles I’d never even tried to understand—and never needed to—in more than twenty years of life.
If I at least felt good, maybe. But there was none of that.
My mood just kept plunging straight to the bottom.
Was this why Song Haneul had always been such a brat?
If even after a long time you never got used to it and instead only grew more sensitive, yeah, that could explain it.
“No big deal? Ha, seriously. Even so, you shouldn’t say it like that. Well… thanks for covering for my period, but it wasn’t intentional, huh?”
“I wasn’t laughing at you.”
“…You sick or something?”
“No.”
“You look off. Let me see.”
“I said no.”
I flinched and waved my hands as Song Haneul suddenly closed in.
Despite my efforts I still had to watch him poke and prod, determined to check my condition.
Looking at my own face like this was pretty gross.
“What are you always typing away at?”
“Writing a scenario.”
Sitting on the bed, I stared at Song Haneul pounding on the laptop.
Trying to handle that tiny machine with such a big frame clearly wasn’t going well; his face was full of irritation. His fingers bunched up close together, tapping a few times then lagging like the whole thing had freeze-frame lag.
“Isn’t that uncomfortable? You’re gonna get turtle neck.”
“What can I do?”
“Go use the computer in my room.”
“…Maybe I should. It’s tiny as hell. I never thought that before.”
“Take a look.”
“Ah, get lost.”
When I peeked over, Song Haneul freaked out and half-closed the laptop.
He even twisted his waist to hide the screen, making it clear he had zero intention of showing me, so I had nothing left to say.
“Weren’t you going to a broadcasting company? If you’re too embarrassed to show me, where the hell are you gonna show it?”
I asked with an incredulous look, and he seemed to find the situation funny too, letting out a hollow laugh.
“There’s nothing proper yet. Once I polish it a bit, you can see.”
“You need feedback before it’s polished so you can actually change things. What are you gonna do if you write the whole thing first? What’s the genre?”
“Just a drama.”
“There’s a million dramas. Don’t tell me you’re writing morning soaps?”
“What’s wrong with morning soaps?”
I made a shocked face and he immediately got defensive.
Realizing I’d hit the mark, I pointed a finger.
“Bingo. You’re embarrassed ’cause you wrote it trashy.”
“You crazy bastard. No, I’m not. I’m aiming for evening slots.”
“Like they’ll just slot you into evening dramas from the start.”
I snickered and laughed, and Song Haneul’s face turned serious.
“Don’t laugh like that.”
“Want me to go ‘hoho’ instead?”
“No, just don’t laugh. And get out of the room. Let me concentrate.”
“I told you, go to your room.”
“Get out already. Don’t lie on the bed with that body. I’ll kill you.”
Ah, I laughed for nothing.
Kicked out of the room, the only place left to lie down was the living-room sofa.
Scratching my belly, I ambled over and sprawled across it.
“What should we order?”
“No, stop eating so much. I’m worried about the weight.”
“…I’m craving something sweet.”
“If you keep eating sweets you’ll gain weight. Don’t eat.”
I marveled at the incredible focus that let him answer like a ghost through the open door.
“With that focus I bet you won’t last an hour. That’s why it’s almost Q3 and you still haven’t polished it.”
“Have you ever tried writing one? Do you know how hard writing a drama is? You have to plan every single action, and when you’re writing scripts the dialogue has to be snappy…”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Like he’d already become an expert, just rambling on and on.
Hadn’t even set foot past a broadcasting company entrance yet and he was already acting like the great writer.
“Song Hamin, you’re dead today.”
The one who’d been hunched over like he was getting turtle neck suddenly shoved the chair back and stood up.
Seeing that back shoot up through the doorway, I couldn’t help but be startled.
I bolted for the room in a panic and slammed the door.
“Aaaah, it won’t lock!”
Because he’d twisted the handle from outside, the lock wouldn’t catch. If I’d been even a second faster… but with these breasts my body was way too sluggish.
At this rate I had to give up on doing anything physical.
A body great for face value, zero practicality.
Other people might envy and be jealous of it, but when it was actually you, it was just annoying.
“I’m being careful ’cause I might hurt you, so open up?”
I know. I know I can’t beat Song Haneul right now.
The door was already opening little by little, and my feet that hadn’t moved once were being pushed back bit by bit.
Sensing it would inevitably open, I immediately abandoned the door and fled onto the bed.
In times like this you just shut your eyes and pull the blanket over your head.
“Hey, hey! Did I tell you not to lie on the bed or not?”
“If you hadn’t opened it I wouldn’t have. Admit it?”
“Admit my ass. It’s ’cause you keep getting on my nerves.”
“Honestly, it’s been over half a year and you haven’t even submitted once.”
“Don’t writers usually take a long time between projects? Don’t you know?”
“How would I know about drama writers?”
I don’t even watch dramas, so what do you want from me.
“If you’re so embarrassed you can’t even show it, you should’ve quit ages ago and looked into something else.”
“Hah, this is it. You. Let’s just die today. I’ll finish off everything that’s been pissing me off till now.”
“What was there to be pissed about before. Wait, are you seriously dragging up old petty shit?”
I peeked my head out at the immediate crisis, but those words only fueled Song Haneul’s anger more.
Even while needling him like this, I still had something to rely on.
Before, I’d simply trusted my physical ability and acted up; now it was the attitude of “this is your body, what are you gonna do?”
Since it was his own body anyway, how rough could he really get? That kind of feeling.
“Ugh. Wait a sec…”
The hands coming up over the blanket weren’t ordinary.
Unlike before there was a lot more force in them, clearly loaded with emotion.
“Wanna talk this out?”
“Get lost.”
The blanket was snatched away in an instant.
This damn body had weak grip strength too.
“Ack, ah, wait, cramp, cramp!”
“Nothing’s cramped. No, just hurt a little, you.”
“My arm’s twisted. Hey, tsk!”
I couldn’t believe how thoroughly I was being subdued.
I struggled somehow, but he just calmly reached out.
Already knowing his own body better than anyone, there was no hesitation in the movements.
“It’s only to the point it won’t dislocate. I know how flexible it is.”
“What good is flexible. Hah hah, my chest’s already getting tight.”
Pinned down with my arms seized, the prone body crushed my chest.
I complained of the misery, but he was firm, as if he already knew everything.
“Hey, this really sucks?”
“You need to suffer a bit.”
“It’s your body?”
“A few bruises are fine. You’re the one who hurts anyway.”
Not working?
As the atmosphere turned cold I realized something was wrong.
By then it was definitely too late.
“You thought I’d stop after a bit, right?”
“…Kinda.”
“Nope, so don’t worry.”
With a bitter smile, the techniques started coming in.