Too Tight to Sleep
Bzzzt. Bzzzzzt.
The phone I'd tossed by my pillow was going off like crazy. I usually kept it on vibrate, but having it buzz nonstop first thing in the morning was pure irritation. If it had gone off at a remotely reasonable hour, I might have actually picked up.
I just blinked at the pile of texts stacked up on the screaming phone. The hangover pounding through my skull faded for a second as the sender's name snapped me a little more awake. Forced out of sleep was the more accurate way to put it.
Something wrong with her body?
As if the two of us swapping bodies hadn't already left us with more problems than we could count. Calling them "inconveniences" didn't even begin to cover it — everything about the situation was something I wanted to complain about. Hearing that something was wrong with the body under those circumstances made it impossible to ignore, no matter how much I wanted to.
I sat bolt upright, crossed my legs, and fired off a text.
After sending the reply, I hauled myself up out of bed. I opened the door and gave the hallway a quick once-over, listening carefully in case she was in the living room bathroom — but that turned out to be baseless worry. She'd come home late on a flight, after all. Jet lag and exhaustion would have her out cold until morning; that much made sense. A small mercy, if you could call it that.
"Why are you summoning people left and right? What's supposedly wrong?"
I'd hoped our bodies might have switched back, but I didn't actually believe that hope would become reality. Alcohol might have been the trigger, but it didn't seem like the real cause.
"There's this weird pressure building down below… what am I supposed to do about this."
"Ah."
Under the blanket Song Haneul had kicked aside, a massive outline that no pair of pants could hide was announcing its presence between her legs in full force. When it had been mine, it had just seemed normal — but looking at it through someone else's eyes, it really did look enormous. Was this what people meant by the other guy's rice cake always looking bigger? Nah. Probably not.
"You know what this is. Morning tent."
"I know, okay? You think I'm an idiot?"
Of course the girl who used to watch porn in the living room would know. We were well past the age of getting bashful at the sight of a guy's dick. Still — seeing it on video and dealing with it in real life were different things. Maybe I needed to think about it differently. Watching a video and grinding against an onahole for a bit wasn't exactly the same as having the real thing attached to you, after all.
"I'm asking how you're supposed to fix it. Isn't there a way to make it go down?"
"Sing the national anthem. All four verses if you have to."
"I only know the first one."
"Then sing that."
"…Are you insane?"
Even as she said it, she started muttering the national anthem under her breath. It showed no sign of going down. Whether she could freely control the body's sensations without being told or not, every time she tensed up you could see it twitch and flex.
"It's not working."
"You're supposed to clear your head first, normally. Just give it some time and it'll settle on its own."
I'd come running because something was wrong with the body, only to find out it was nothing special — and just like that, my concern evaporated.
"You said something was wrong with your body, so I came over, and this is it?"
"How was I supposed to know it in this much detail? Can you confidently say you know a woman's body inside out, then?"
"I do, actually?"
"What did you do with my body?"
"Nothing."
"Then how would you know."
She made a face like I was being ridiculous, but that was the face I should have been making. Did she think I looked like some idiot who didn't even know a woman's body unless I used her own as a teaching aid?
"Did you sleep through health class in middle school?"
"You're saying what you learned back then means you know now? Then I know a man's body too."
"Stop acting like a kid and just sit tight for a bit, then get up. I'm heading out before Mom wakes up. I don't want any weird misunderstandings."
Having a custom gaming rig I'd built myself sitting in my own room, and still having to leave like this — it was genuinely tragic. I'd set it up to rival any PC bang, and now overnight I couldn't even touch it. Depressing.
"Don't go touching anything, okay?"
Even as I was walking out the door, my little sister's voice piled another warning on top of me, and whatever motivation I had left drained away. I understood the worry, sort of — but hearing the same thing repeated over and over was starting to feel unfair. I was beginning to understand where that contrary streak in people came from.
"Yeah, yeah."
I tossed out a half-hearted answer that may or may not have counted as listening and went back to Song Haneul's room. It wasn't my room, but I had to use it like it was, and the place was a chaotic mess of random junk. The colors and individual items were cute enough on their own, but thrown together they gave off the vibe of a hodgepodge stew. I sat in the middle of the bed and started tapping at my phone screen.
Song Haneul started typing and then just cut off. She was the type to finish a text properly, too.
Bang! The door flew open hard.
"You didn't go to the bathroom last night?"
"I went to the bathroom just fine?"
"You crazy bastard!"
Song Haneul, who'd been peeking her head in, finally charged straight at me. She shoved me down and grabbed me by the collar. That low, heavy voice combined with the big frame pinning me from above made it hard to breathe.
"I can't exactly ask permission for that too! Hey — hey! I handled it fine on my own, shouldn't you be praising me for that? And for the record, you didn't go either?"
"You and I are different!"
"How are we different! What, you gonna help me go to the bathroom too? Want me to help you? Don't talk nonsense."
"…Don't shower until we're back."
This was pure stubbornness at this point.
"And when exactly are we switching back?"
"That's…"
"So until then I just live my whole life without washing?"
I pulled my chin back with a look that said, ugh, gross. Man or woman, anyone who doesn't wash gets filthy and starts to smell. Being stuck at home didn't change that one bit. Whether she registered that or not, she just sat there speechless, gears turning in her head.
"Hey, forget it. What am I even gonna do with your body. What I saw before just looked like plain boiled chick—"
"You're dead. For real."
"Sorry. No — what are you gonna do if Mom wakes up and you're still like this? You trying to ruin my image?"
"What image do you even have. You're just some army guy."
"I discharged. I'm a civilian. And if you keep acting the way you normally do right now, something on you is going to break. You know that, right?"
Being the same age as twins, we'd dropped the rank and gone at each other plenty of times growing up. But if we fought like that now, who would win was obvious. Even before the military I'd been the one going easy on her, and now that this body had come back from service packed with muscle, the win rate was naturally stacked high.
Was there any other pair of older brother and younger sister whose relationship had gotten this blurry? Not that I'd been particularly hung up on it.
"Nngh."
Song Haneul climbed off the body she'd been sitting on. The weight crushing down on my stomach disappeared.
"Mom said she's leaving tomorrow, I think. Shower then."
"…I have to stay like this until tomorrow?"
"I will too, so."
Song Haneul clicked her tongue and left the room. What a way to start the morning — my insides were still churning. It wasn't like I'd asked to be swapped either. People still need to wash to live, don't they? I couldn't exactly get permission every single time I needed the bathroom, and when it was urgent, it was too urgent to even speak.
All the things I hadn't managed to say while my little sister was still here welled up for no reason and nearly spilled out. They never made it past my mouth, though. She was already gone.
"Ugh."
The inconveniences that had piled up since the body swap were endless. But the most critical one was my social life — school, friends, all of it. I couldn't set foot in society at all anymore. It wasn't like I'd become a complete stranger; I'd become Song Haneul, which made the whole thing even more awkward.
A friend texted like clockwork — drinks again today? — and I replied that I wasn't going. The teasing came back asking if I'd already wrecked my stomach, but that wasn't the issue.
"If it were that, I'd have downed some fish cake broth at least."
A hollow laugh slipped out from sheer disbelief. Who could have seen something like this coming. The list of things I was bitter about wasn't short, not by a long shot. If I'd known it would turn out like this, maybe I should have enlisted two years later. Then Song Haneul would have gone in my place. I'd already finished my service and now my whole life was a mess — the frustration doubled right back on itself.
I was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, killing the entire day on my phone, when the door cracked open a little.
"Haneul, want to go grab a meal with Mom?"
"Huh?"
"I just felt like treating my son and daughter for once. I'm heading back out of the country tomorrow, too."
"Ah…"
Our parents were gone from the house so often that their absence had become the default — I'd completely forgotten.
"You don't have to go if you don't want to. It's fine."
I'd hesitated for a second, and apparently it looked like I was debating whether I wanted to go at all.
"Is she going?"
"She just said she would."
That brat. Couldn't even shoot me a single text about it.
"I'll go."
"Great. I'll get ready. You dress up a little too, Haneul."
"Ah — okay."
Dress up? I had no idea what that even meant. I didn't even know what clothes were supposed to go on this body in the first place. Part of me just wanted to throw on my own clothes, but going outside made even that feel like it would draw stares. In the end I sent a text SOS. Even so, rummaging freely through my little sister's closet felt too awkward.
"You still haven't changed?"
"I couldn't even shower, thanks to someone."
I shot her a look, but she walked into the room like it was nothing.
"Where's Mom?"
"Just in the master bedroom, I think?"
"Wait — you already changed?"
"You always dress sloppy anyway."
I couldn't think of a comeback.
"And if you haven't showered, just cover up a bit. It's not like you're gonna overheat."
"Got any pants?"
"Of course I do. Wear these."
She rummaged through the closet and tossed clothes at me top and bottom in quick succession.
"A hoodie in this weather is crossing a line, isn't it?"
"That was a hoodie? Give it here."
She snatched back what she'd just given me and threw a different piece of clothing over.
"Isn't this just arm sleeves?"
"What are you talking about, it's a shirt. Put that on, then throw on a denim jacket."
"I'll try it on."
"Ah — wait."
"What?"
She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then just let out a long sigh.
"Never mind. Just put it on."
"'Kay."
I stripped off whatever I'd been wearing on top and pulled on a short-sleeved shirt that fit snug against the body. I didn't like the sensation of something clamping tight around the shoulders and ribs, making the chest feel constricted.
"Why is this shirt so tight…"
Once I layered the denim jacket over it, what showed on the outside looked decent enough — but the body wearing it felt like it was screaming. The chest, already large to begin with, felt like it was being squeezed, for lack of a better description.
"Is it always supposed to feel like this…"
"Ah, fuck."
I flinched hard at the sudden curse that came out of Song Haneul's mouth.
"When did you take it off?"
"Take what off?"
"The bra. The bra!"
"No — ah. It was too stuffy when I was sleeping."
"For fuck's sake."
"Ow!"
Smack. It was only a palm strike to the shoulder, but the impact was solid. The sting was bad enough I figured it might bruise.
"Take it off again!"
"W-wait a second."
"I said take it off."
Being stripped half by force was pretty humiliating.