Boundaries
The next day, I seized the right moment and brought it up.
"I'm planning to get my own place again around when I go back to school."
Coming out with something like that the moment Mom got home might have looked pretty cold of me.
Even though she said she didn't have work, she was still out and about meeting friends, so the windows we actually had to talk were never that long. I didn't have much choice.
I watched her carefully and timed it as best I could, but the stretches when Mom was solidly home were the shortest of all.
"Alright, then."
I'd brought it up carefully, but she agreed without a second's hesitation.
It was a big expense, so I still felt a little awkward about it—but I'd known she would answer that way.
A faint residue of guilt still clung to her manner, left over from all the years work had kept her too busy to be with us when we were kids.
It wasn't like I was trying to take advantage of that. By now it didn't really bother me anymore, and there was nothing worth picking a fight over.
I just figured that as long as I could live comfortably, I'd spend within the bounds of what she allowed.
It wasn't like I was about to waste it on something stupid. It was only temporary, for the stretch while I was still in school.
"When are you thinking?"
"Around January or February."
Honestly I wanted to say right now—but realistically, if I thought about the timing for moving out, lining it up with the end of the semester made the most sense. And it wasn't as if I needed to bolt out the door immediately. I could afford to leave myself a little breathing room.
"Do you already have a place in mind?"
"I was going to start looking around then."
"When you find one, let Mom know too."
"Okay."
I gave a little nod and went back to my room.
I let out a breath of relief at the thought that I'd cleared one hurdle—but knowing there were still more ahead, I couldn't exactly relax.
It was only mid-October. I still had about two months before I could move into a place of my own.
Even if I wanted to rush it, this was the best I could do.
You, move out? You're a freeloading NEET who does nothing but sit around the house all day.
It was so ridiculous I actually laughed.
I'd even put a period at the end of the message for emphasis, like I was being dead serious, but it didn't do a thing.
If some kid with zero legitimate reason suddenly announced they were moving out and demanded deposit money and rent, yeah, right—like anyone would just hand it over. Even if Mom and Dad were pretty free with money, they'd wave that off in a heartbeat and say wasting it like that was out of the question.
The suggestion was so out of left field it made me jump.
Jumping straight to freeloading in a Two-room Apartment—you've got to hand it to her. That was next-level scheming.
A chill ran down my spine.
"…That's brutal."
The real problem was that I couldn't just brush it off as a joke.
Given everything she'd done up to now, there was no way I could ignore it.
Even now, the sense that she'd completely transformed as a person after the body swap still felt deeply unnatural.
And after that, even if we switched back, she just kept charging forward like a runaway train that wouldn't stop. That made it worse.
I had no idea what she was even thinking.
I shook my head at the texts Song Haneul sent after that.
If I kept answering, I'd only get dragged into her pace—so I read them and left her on read.
The awkward dinner hour passed, and night settled in.
Between that and carefully reading Mom's mood all day, I was pretty worn out. Some friends had invited me to game, but I wasn't obligated to join, so I skipped it and just collapsed onto the bed.
Some days were like that.
Games were fun, but when you were tired, lying down was best.
After a solid night's sleep, body and mind would both feel refreshed—I could pick the worrying back up tomorrow.
Where to look for a place. How decent a spot I should aim for.
Mom probably wouldn't care either way, but even if I didn't say it out loud, I wanted to pick something that wouldn't put too much of a burden on her.
I'd just closed my eyes for a moment when I heard the door ease open.
I hadn't fallen asleep yet, so I reacted to the sound instantly.
Click.
The door shut, and at the same time I sat up, already on full alert.
I stared hard at the faint silhouette visible in the dark and wet my drying lips with my tongue. I wasn't the only one thrown off.
"…Why did you come in?"
Mom would never slip in this stealthily—and she wouldn't come into my room in the middle of the night for no reason either.
There was only one person who would, but even sneaking in like this, what was the point?
The act itself might as well have had a name tag stuck on it.
"Hey, why'd you leave me on read?"
"Because you were talking nonsense."
Even in the dark, I felt like I could see exactly what kind of face she was making.
Annoyance. Discomfort. All of it tangled together.
It was hard to put into words, but when she wore that expression, I could already tell how exhausting dealing with her was going to be.
"What do you mean, nonsense."
"The two-room crap. You already max out Mom's card like that—you think she'd be thrilled if a freeloading NEET who hasn't even found a job announced they were getting their own place too?"
"Since when do you care what Mom and Dad think."
"I do, actually? You're the one who's just busy milking them for cash."
"Whatever."
Song Haneul brushed off my words and came closer.
The shadow that had only been an outline drew nearer until I could see her clearly.
She looked the same as always. But the atmosphere she gave off was somehow different.
"…Why are you here? Weren't you done talking?"
"No. I'm not done."
"Then what?"
"So you're just gonna happily get your own place and leave?"
"Don't put it like that. I have to go to school."
Breaking into a cold sweat, I finished preparing to shove Song Haneul away.
The most annoying part was that she'd turned into something like a wild deer that might charge at any second, any way.
This wasn't the usual house—this was the house where Mom, who almost never came around, was actually present.
Making noise the way we used to was a problem on a lot of levels.
Song Haneul knew that too, which was probably why she was speaking in that thin, leaking voice.
I didn't want to create a situation that would draw suspicion either.
"Tch."
Song Haneul started to climb halfway onto the bed, then stopped and clicked her tongue.
Something seemed to be turning over in her mind. She hesitated, then put her foot back down.
Whether it was different from what she'd planned or not, I swallowed a sigh of relief that she didn't push any further.
"You came all the way here in the middle of the night just to say that? You could've done it during the day."
"I don't know."
"…What."
What a weird kid.
"People can be like that sometimes."
"Like what. You never used to be."
"People can't stay the same every single day."
"Don't use that to justify doing weird shit."
I was so incredulous I threw that out, and Song Haneul took a step back too.
Apparently nothing came to mind to argue with. She quietly slipped out of the room.
I couldn't let my guard down for even a second.
Especially since I hadn't expected her to just barge into my room like that.
If the condition were only that we had to hug—or that we had to drink and then join together—I wouldn't have to worry this much.
But there were still too many fishy parts that didn't match what Song Haneul claimed, so I had no choice but to treat the hugging itself as significant.
After all, hugging was exactly the kind of thing I would never do with Song Haneul.
"Haa. I need to be careful for a while."
Especially while Mom was around.
Father was strict but kind of dense. No matter what happened, his lack of reaction made him look like he was wearing a poker face. But sometimes he genuinely just didn't notice and stayed quiet.
Mom, on the other hand, was chatty and bounced around everywhere—but she was surprisingly sharp, excellent at reading the room and picking up on atmosphere.
So it was Mom's light-yet-piercing gaze I had to watch out for the most.
And in the middle of that, a body swap? We'd muddled through before, but I had no confidence we could pull it off now.
Early on we'd fumbled past it somehow—but in the span of a month, the way we treated each other had shifted in this vague, ambiguous way again.
More precisely, the way Song Haneul treated me.
Breakfast was always hard to manage.
Maybe it was habit, but no matter how early I got up, I could never quite bring myself to eat in the morning.
People who diligently put together a full breakfast first thing always seemed amazing to me.
Even more so when I came out to the living room and saw Song Haneul pulling out a banana and yogurt.
"What are you looking at. You want some too?"
"No."
"I wasn't gonna give you any even if you asked."
"Yeah, get lost."
I waved her off as she stuffed her cheeks full and chewed away.
I hadn't planned on eating either way, so I didn't care whether she offered or not.
Song Haneul let out a little hmph, peeled another banana, and nibbled at it in small bites.
Apparently she'd forgotten her own question about what I was looking at, because she just kept staring straight at me.
"Where's Mom?"
"Mom's still asleep."
"Jet-lagged, you think?"
Sometimes the fatigue from adjusting to the time difference hung around for days. Even healthy people got hit with it—how much worse must it be for someone older.
She was getting up there in years too. Thinking about how those aftereffects would only get heavier, it almost felt like she ought to look into a different kind of work.
"Probably."
"But why are you eating like that?"
"No reason. Just."
She took a big, evasive bite.
My body flinched for no good reason at the sight.
It wasn't a huge problem, but I couldn't help being conscious of it.
Last night's sudden visit had me hyper-aware.
She didn't look like she was in a particularly good mood.
Because of yesterday, maybe.
It bothered me, but I didn't want to ask. I had no interest in doing something as stupid as poking a hornet's nest.
I pretended not to notice, stopped by the bathroom, and was about to slip quietly into my room when Song Haneul started waving her hand around.
A gesture that said look over here. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye.
I considered ignoring it—but I'd already decided to play along, at least moderately, for the two months until I moved out.
If I left her free to do something weird, I'd really be in trouble.
"What do you want?"
"I called, so you came."
The little snickering laugh made me realize I'd been baited, and I scowled.
Of course.
Like she had anything important to say.
I flicked that smug forehead with a solid knuckle.
A sharp thwack rang out, and her head snapped back.
"Ow! I thought my head was gonna split open!"
"Wow. That was crisp."
"You crazy bastard. You get one too, asshole."
"Yeah? Can't reach, huh?"
Song Haneul was sitting cross-legged up on the chair. No matter how far she stretched her arms, she couldn't touch me.
I left those flailing arms behind, fled, and went straight back to my room.
She started it—so this one wasn't on me.