Just Strong, That's All
It really wasn't my fault—that much was true—yet whenever anything involved the body, I felt like a criminal.
Before the swap, I'd felt a private sense of shame about it, but since neither of us got any particular thrill out of the situation, we'd just shrugged it off and moved on. Now it was different, and that was the problem.
Why did everything make me feel like a sinner, anyway?
“Hey, this is driving me crazy. I can barely breathe.”
“Quiet down. That's just how it is.”
I wasn't some creep who got turned on looking at my younger sibling's body, but the fact that I'd started stuffing myself into women's clothes still left me weirdly embarrassed.
“If you don't wear one, your chest sags.”
“This is so damn uncomfortable.”
The shape it created was pretty enough, but the sensation of being clamped so tightly I could hardly draw a full breath felt completely alien.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to tie your hair up. If you haven't washed it, you have to wear a hat.”
“I wasn't planning on skipping a wash.”
“Shut up.”
“Fine, I'll shut up. Wait—are you yanking my hair?”
“I told you I'm tying it.”
My head had just been jerked upward. This was supposed to be tying?
“That hurts…!”
“Hold still.”
“Nngh.”
A scream tore out of me as every last strand stuck to the back of my head felt like it was being ripped out by the roots. Once the rubber band locked it in place, the pulling sensation kept tingling stubbornly.
A hat settled over my head.
Before I could even register how slightly oversized it felt, another sharp tug yanked my hair from behind.
“Done. Take a look.”
“…Not bad, actually.”
It had taken longer than I expected, probably because every single step needed doing one by one like this.
From the outside it looked like nothing more than putting on clothes and a hat, but the prep work was anything but simple.
I had to squeeze into that chest-crushing underwear and tie my hair up, too.
And do it all alone. The thought that even this was just a bare-minimum, makeup-free slapdash job sent a chill down my spine.
Until our bodies switched back, I was never leaving the house again.
This time we had no choice because we were heading out half-assed.
This would be the last time.
“Got everything?”
At Mom's words, we scrambled out of the room.
“I'm just glad you two get along so well. Mom and Dad couldn't look after you properly, and we felt terrible about it, but look how responsibly you've both grown up.”
Even at the restaurant, Mom couldn't stop smiling, as if she were savoring every second of this moment.
The food wasn't bad, but seeing that expression on her face made it impossible to just focus on eating.
Sitting there awkwardly, forcing bitter little smiles and offering halfhearted agreement, drained the life right out of me.
“Are you going to keep the hat on the whole time?”
“I couldn't wash my hair today…”
“Ah, well, anyway…”
Mom didn't press further and simply carried on talking.
The silver lining was that most of her words were aimed at “me,” which meant Song Haneul could handle answering them.
“Yeah, sure. It's nothing, really.”
But the slightly snippy, cold way she delivered it felt off.
I'd thought the answers were fine, yet through someone else's eyes they came across as that chilly? Or maybe Song Haneul was deliberately trying to make me look bad. Either way, I ended up staring.
After the meal with Mom ended, we headed home.
“Where are you going this time?”
Song Haneul, sitting in the passenger seat, tossed the question out casually.
Mom kept her hands on the wheel and glanced over once.
“Looks like Hong Kong next. Probably another month again.”
Both Mom and Dad traveled abroad so often that they were always busy.
All that moving around had to take a toll on their stamina; it worried me a little.
I wasn't sure if saying something like this in Song Haneul's body was appropriate, but I figured she might still appreciate the concern, so I offered it carefully.
“Take care of yourself. Those long flights are rough.”
“Mm, thanks. I'll be careful.”
Our eyes met in the rearview mirror. Without thinking, I dropped my gaze.
Whenever our eyes locked, it felt like every bare inch of me was on display and about to be found out. So I looked away.
As the car rolled along the road, a subtle, familiar sensation crept up on me.
Ah. Bathroom.
“Oh, right—since I have to leave tomorrow, Mom's going to meet a friend. You two head inside first.”
“Okay.”
The moment she dropped us off, Mom drove off again.
That was a relief, honestly. I didn't have the leisure for a leisurely chat right now.
“Ugh, I gotta go.”
“What?”
“It's urgent.”
With that single word I started hammering the elevator button.
“Gross.”
“What am I supposed to do about a bodily function?”
Normally I never thought twice about it, but the elevator felt slower than usual.
I wished it would just move faster.
Ding. The moment the chime sounded I mashed the door code. The numbers flew in, the door unlocked, and I bolted straight for the bathroom closest to the entrance.
“Whoa—huh?”
I tried to shut the door and pull my pants down, but the door wouldn't close.
“Hey, just piss without looking.”
“That's insane.”
“Come on…”
“I've already seen everything there is to see! Get out, hurry up. I need to go.”
I shoved hard, but Song Haneul planted himself there, insisting he had to watch.
The door might as well have been an iron wall; it didn't budge an inch, and a wave of helpless frustration rose in me.
“For someone so stupidly strong…”
“It's your body, remember?”
Even I had to admit how ridiculous that sounded coming out of my mouth.
“Ugh, whatever.”
If I wasted any more strength or time on this, I was going to have an accident in my pants, so I just dropped onto the toilet.
“How do you just sit down and go like that? How do you even know?”
“Jesus, stop peeping.”
“Suspicious little shit.”
“What's suspicious? I know everything I need to know, okay? You want me to stand up and piss when I don't even have a dick?”
The words came out harsher than I meant, pure irritation talking.
But Song Haneul just lowered his gaze like it was no big deal.
“You never told me when you peed either, and now you're throwing a fit…”
“Hey! Hey!”
“What now?!”
“Why are you pulling your panties up already? You think shaking your hips once or twice is enough? You have to wipe with the toilet paper next to you.”
Now I was getting coaching on how to take a piss. Unbelievable.
“Done?”
“Wipe better. More.”
“Argh.”
With an irritated swipe I cleaned between my legs; only then did he finally nod.
One single eyeball peering through the crack of the bathroom door was enough to make my insides burn black.
“What the hell is this…”
“Just wash up now while Mom's out. She'll be gone at least an hour.”
“…Now? Earlier you said we shouldn't wash until we switched back.”
“The room'll get dirty. My blanket.”
“It's your body anyway—just think of it as you making it dirty.”
“I'm trying to take care of my blanket…”
It had felt nice, so maybe that was why.
“So what am I supposed to do? Just wash?”
“Close your eyes and wash. No—I don't trust you, so cover yourself and wash.”
“Hey. Clothes I can deal with, but this is seriously not okay. For the record, I don't get turned on looking at your body. It just feels like a naked monkey, okay?”
That was the usual thing people said about family members seeing each other naked.
But whether it was because of how it felt from the inside, or because he still held some superiority complex about his own original body being this good, he kept shaking his head hard.
“I'm going to wash you, so just close your damn eyes.”
The growling tone made it clear this wasn't a joke.
“…So then do I have to wash your body too?”
“Get lost.”
“This is actually ridiculous. Hey, go, go. I'll handle it myself. You handle yourself.”
I waved him off with both hands.
Song Haneul's steps, which had been about to approach, faltered.
“I'll just try it and ask if I get stuck on anything. Okay? I'm not going to do anything weird. It's just washing—why are you making such a—”
“Then wash where I can see you.”
“…That's over the line.”
“It's over the line for me too. Why do you even have my body?”
“You realize you have my body the exact same way, right?”
“Which is exactly why this is equally absurd for both of us.”
Song Haneul let out a long, heavy sigh.
“Anyway, I'm worried you'll do something weird with my body. Like groping the chest out of curiosity or poking around in the hole…”
“Oh, please.”
“Why that face?”
“Because the guy who was panicking this morning because his boner wouldn't go down is the one saying that. It's just too much.”
I let out a snort of laughter, but the conversation still went nowhere.
Song Haneul's decision to stand guard in the corner of the bathroom was as immovable as a stone wall.
Why did I have to pee and shower in front of my younger sibling?
Had human rights gotten a little blurry the moment our bodies switched?
Did he figure it was fine because it was his own body?
I was the one who had to feel what it was like to strip bare and put myself on display.
“Fine. Then let me watch when you wash too. I'll do the same. How about that? You'll wash me? Then I'll wash you. And if you're going to stare every time I take care of business, report to me every single time you go. I'll watch too.”
I had no choice but to play the ultimate card.
The only cure for double standards was making someone walk a mile in the other person's shoes.
If he didn't fully understand what he was demanding, this stubbornness would never end.
Song Haneul stared at me for a long moment, wearing a faintly suspicious look, then finally sighed.
“Fine.”
“You should've just— wait, what?”
“I'll show you. It's your own body you're looking at anyway.”
“You're not actually crazy, are you?”
“I'm more worried about what you'll do with my body first!”
Song Haneul flared up and clenched his fist tight.
Even knowing he wouldn't actually hit me, seeing that fist rise still made me flinch.
“Why the hell would I do something disgusting like that with your body?”
“Dis—disgusting?”
“I didn't mean your body is disgusting.”
“Wow, so you were thinking of it as a girl's body?”
I had the distinct feeling I'd just walked into a trap. Was it just me?
“Okay! I'll show you, I'll show you. Look, look!”
I spat the words out in pure resignation, and Song Haneul fixed me with a slightly heated stare of his own.
It didn't take long for me to regret everything I'd just said.
“Can I not go out?”
“You said look.”
“Sorry.”
“I'm watching. Wash properly.”
“I got it.”
Every piece of clothing I peeled off left me more exposed, and that sensation never got any easier to bear.
Being naked was bad enough; adding someone's gaze on top of it made my skin crawl.
Even knowing the gaze belonged to Song Haneul.
I squeezed my eyes shut tight and turned on the shower.
Better to just finish this fast and feel clean again—that thought alone kept my hands moving.