As Usual
Whether or not her request to forget about it had been a lie, Song Haneul went right back to acting like her usual self.
She idly scrolled through her phone or wandered out to the living room to watch TV. And when she ran out of things to do, she'd retreat to her room, sit down in front of her laptop, and start typing away at something with fierce concentration.
Was it even reasonable for someone who claimed she was going into broadcasting to only start working on her portfolio once she'd done everything else and gotten bored?
It wasn't my place to live her life for her, but at the rate she was going, I figured she could spend ten years and still never take down that "job hunting" sign.
Not my problem.
Being back in my original body was definitely more comfortable.
I was freshly reminded of just how much of a blessing it was to fire up a game on the computer instead of sprawling uselessly in front of the TV with nothing to do.
Making a hobby out of something I'd always done was one thing — but the feeling of being castrated, stripped of the ability to do that hobby, had been unspeakably awful.
"What's this?"
There was a small box on the table I hadn't seen before.
When I turned it slightly, the product image on the packaging stared right back at me.
I knew it was an onahole without even opening it. My hand, which had been about to lift the lid, froze solid.
The thought that Song Haneul had brought it home and used it made me clench my fist tight.
In the end, it'd been used with my body, so throwing it away felt wasteful — and yet the mere fact that Haneul had used it made me wonder if I should toss it anyway. I was stuck in that conflict.
After a long deliberation, I carefully set it back where it'd been. The final decision could wait. I couldn't deny that the reason my fretting dragged on was because I was reluctant to throw it away.
Doing it by hand and doing it with an onahole would feel completely different, after all.
"I've never used one of these before."
I leaned back against the chair and stared at the box.
I had no intention of using it right now.
It wasn't like my libido was boiling over, and unlike Song Haneul, who'd been clumsy with her hands, I was perfectly capable of taking care of things myself.
Ding. An invite from my friends to play together pulled my attention away.
"Song Hamin."
In the middle of a match, Song Haneul cracked the door open and slipped inside.
A team fight was about to break out, so I had no bandwidth to spare for her.
"Hold on. Watch A, A! Careful mid!"
Enemy location pings hammered the map in rapid succession. Bullets poured down in an instant, and I died.
I barely had time to groan in frustration before a gap opened up for conversation. I muted my mic and turned my head slightly.
"What?"
"Nothing. Just wondering if you were gonna eat."
"You hungry?"
I checked the time — it was already nine.
I could've sworn I'd booted up the game early, but somehow it was already nine o'clock.
Things were just starting to get fun, and I hesitated over whether to cut it short.
Then again, food was just food. We could always regroup after eating.
"A little?"
"What do you want?"
"Pizza for me."
"Why do you like pizza so much? Fine, go ahead and order."
"Oki. Split it?"
"Yeah."
Song Haneul flopped down onto my bed and started scrolling through the menu.
I still had a job to do, so I turned my focus back to the briefing.
Every round was a cycle of getting kills and getting killed.
Aim really did take a ton of effort and practice, and my muscle memory was completely dead.
Just when I started to feel like I was getting the hang of it again, a higher-tier opponent would show up and make everything a slog.
My hands were sweating.
"Hey, mind if I go grab some food?"
"When I'm back, we hop on LoL."
Even right up until we broke for food, the chat was loud and chaotic before everyone scattered.
Only after confirming that the mics had gone silent one by one did I pull off my headset.
"Did you order?"
I spun the chair around and found Song Haneul sprawled face-down on my bed.
She was kicking her legs back and forth, thumping them against the mattress.
"I ordered. What about this one?"
She flipped her phone screen and held it out. It was a perfectly ordinary menu, so I nodded.
"Fine."
"Oki."
"When's it getting here?"
"Soon? They said they're nearby."
She hugged my pillow and rolled over.
"What are you doing on my bed?"
"Why, I can lie down. It's not like you use it."
"When I said I was sleeping in my own room, you swore you'd rather die than let me."
"…Did I say that?"
The way she played dumb was infuriating, but I decided to let it go.
"Don't you have anything to do? Are you working on your portfolio?"
Having her parked behind me while I was trying to game had been mildly irritating, so I poked at a sensitive subject on purpose.
Song Haneul's expression didn't change at all. She looked completely unfazed.
"…I'm scrapping it."
"Suddenly? What about everything you've written so far?"
"It wasn't coming together, and… my thinking changed somehow."
She kept staring at her phone, but she answered every question without missing a beat.
"From what I've overheard, it sounded like you'd been working on it for half a year."
"My perspective shifted, I guess."
"Perspective?"
"Looking at it now, it's a mess. Wanna see?"
"…Pizza's almost here, so hold on."
Curiosity got the better of me — I wanted to know what exactly a self-proclaimed drama scriptwriter was actually writing.
Song Haneul showed no intention of getting up. She just lay there on the bed, wiggling her fingers.
"Isn't it on your laptop?"
"No, I was looking at it on here before I trash it."
"…Let me see."
I didn't have to go far — I just sat on the edge of the bed and leaned in.
"Lie down next to me."
If she only meant to show me, she could've just handed over the phone. The fact that she was clearing space and telling me to lie face-down like her meant she wanted us to look at it together.
"…This is ridiculously narrow."
"Ugh, whatever. Just a second."
Song Haneul covered the screen with her hand, as if second-guessing the whole idea of showing me.
Her fingers fidgeted for a moment, then slowly pulled away, clenched into a fist.
"No laughing. Deal?"
"If it's a comedy, I might laugh."
"There's no comedy."
"…You're telling me a drama has zero humor in it?"
"Does it need to?"
"I don't know either."
"What the hell."
She made a face like she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
I didn't know anything about this either, so what did she expect me to say?
"Hmm."
After reading for a while, the corner of my mouth twitched.
"Well?"
She studied my face with a faintly nervous look. Finding no real reassurance in my stiff expression, her eyes even started to waver.
"This is pure melodrama trash."
"…I know."
"And then out of nowhere it just—"
"I said I know. Shut up."
She'd claimed she was throwing it out, but after spending so long planning and writing it, she clearly still had some attachment left.
Maybe she'd been hoping for a decent review — the slight disappointment on her face was almost funny.
"And there is some humor in it, in its own way, but it's kind of like old-man puns—"
"Shut up."
Song Haneul grabbed the pillow she'd been clutching to her chest and shoved it straight into my face.
I'd expected her to hide this kind of thing, not show it to me, so I decided a little teasing was fair game.
Whether she got a job or not wasn't my business, but I was curious about what she wrote. I didn't want to completely kill the chance of her showing me something again.
"Oki, I'll shut up. Oh — pizza's here."
At the sound of the doorbell, I shot up from the bed.
I took the pizza and set it on the kitchen table.
Song Haneul ambled out of the room and sat down across from me.
We each put a slice on a plate and started eating. The first bites were hot, but as it cooled, we ate faster and faster.
Two bites and only the crust was left — we were tearing into it that hard.
I still had a game to get back to soon, so there was a sense of urgency to it.
I'd said roughly an hour, but if everyone got back early, we could start whenever.
"I'm gonna have a drink. Want some?"
"…What did you just say?"
For a second I doubted my own ears.
The sudden declaration, mid-pizza, that she wanted to drink sent a low current of tension through me.
"I said I'm drinking. I want a drink. That's the mood I'm in right now."
Song Haneul enunciated each word carefully, as if she couldn't understand why I wasn't following.
It was a situation too similar to right after the body swap, and I went rigid.
Given everything we'd already tried, and the fact that the circumstances were different from when we'd switched back, I told myself it wouldn't happen again — but the worry still crept in. On top of that, I knew perfectly well what Song Haneul's body did when it got alcohol in it, so I shook my head.
"No. You're a terrible drinker."
"Right now I just want to drink something and pass out. There's plenty left, isn't there?"
"There's barely any. You polished off most of it."
"Oh, did I? Should I go buy more?"
She was clearly set on drinking tonight — the news that we were out of booze wasn't enough to make her give up.
"I'm gaming, so drink alone or don't. Whatever."
I was a little fed up, but I also knew that if she drank by herself she'd just pass out and stop moving, so I half-abandoned the issue.
Song Haneul clicked her tongue, like things weren't going the way she'd planned.
A girl who claimed she didn't even like drinking, whose body couldn't handle it — I had no idea what she was getting hooked on.
I went back to my room to game.
Song Haneul really did go out to buy alcohol; the front door slammed shut behind her.
I put my headset back on and decided to focus.
"Everyone in?"
All five of us scrambled together and the match began.
The game blew up the second it started, and we queued into a second round with nothing but regret.
And the second match started wobbling in the early game too.
"Ah, hey, hey. I'm warding everything for you — what are you doing?"
With five people of wildly different skill levels, the performance was all over the place.
Sometimes one good player would tear the whole team apart, so you always had to stay sharp.
I wasn't exactly great myself, so I had no choice but to rely on someone else.
"I'll plant one here for now, so—"
"Heya, Song Hamin."
I flinched and whipped my head around.
In the span of a single match, Song Haneul was already completely wasted, swaying as she leaned against the doorframe.
Having no idea what she was about to say, I frantically killed the voice chat.
Having experienced Song Haneul's body myself, the fact that I still didn't fully know what she'd do when drunk only made the worry worse.
Her face was already flushed bright red.
Her tongue was a little thick, her breathing short and hot.
She came up behind me — stuck in my chair mid-game — and wrapped her arms around me in a loose embrace.
"Ugh. My head…"
"What the hell. If you're drunk, go to sleep."
Had she finished half a bottle? A whole one?
Her alcohol tolerance was so pathetic that she got drunk almost instantly. Getting blackout drunk off a few sips — I couldn't decide if that was great value or just a garbage body.
I turned my face the other way with a look of pure disgust, but Song Haneul didn't react at all.
"I'm… offering to take care of you… why won't you…?"
"…Why would I do that with you?"
"Because… you react. When you're turned on… it's worth it."
Oh, for god's sake.
"Why should I react?"
"I did… so… huh? No? Touch it."
"Forget it. I'm busy."
She tried to pull my hand over, and I shook her off.
Whether the rejection shocked her or not, Song Haneul's breathing turned into angry little huffs.
"Are you impotent? Won't it get hard?"
"Why the hell should it get hard, fuck. Hold on — you reek of booze."
"Why won't it get hard? I used to get rock hard just looking at you!!"
The sheer indignation and resentment in her voice left me speechless.
She yanked my retreating head forward and buried it in her chest.
They were big enough that the sensation was soft and yielding.
More importantly — if I hadn't muted the mic, I would've been completely screwed.
What would my friends have thought if they'd heard that?
My fingers twitched. Something clicked, and a groan of frustration came through the headset.
Voices pouring in from both sides made my head spin right along with them.
She was the one who was drunk. So why was it happening to me?