Birdcage
A heavy silence stretched out between us. Muk Ha-neul was still smiling, but I faltered under the devastating impact of those words—I love you—spoken to me for the first time in real life. Love. What the hell was love? Dictionary definition: love [noun] A deep affection and high regard for a person or thing. Or an instance of such. But no simple explanation like that could define the word. Hearing it straight-up in reality, without euphemisms or metaphors—just raw emotion spilling out—probably wasn't something easy for anyone.
I felt... awkward. Because I had no room in my life to love anyone, didn't know how, and sure as hell didn't qualify. I'd never been loved, never loved anyone. And above all, this was my body now. A body that didn't match love at all. So... I had no idea how to respond to this confession.
"That's my answer to your question, sunbae. You asked if I still do, right? Yes."
Still.
"A... still."
"Of course, I'm not even sure if this feeling of liking you is still straight-up romantic love. I agonized a lot when I heard you'd become a woman. That's why I came to see you in person. It might be a bit early to draw conclusions."
"…."
"Anyway, that's not the point. I still like you, sunbae. Whether you're a man, a woman, or a kid."
I noticed there that Muk Ha-neul had switched from "I love you" to "I like you." Even she wasn't fully convinced her feelings were the same as before.
"But... I'm a woman now."
"I worried after seeing you. Wondered if becoming a woman had changed something fundamental, if you'd crumble. But seeing you now, I get it. You're still yourself, sunbae, and you won't run away."
Unfortunately, her next words—"You're still Seol-guk, sunbae"—were exactly what I'd wanted to hear most, damn it all.
"…Yeah."
Pathetic. That was all I could manage. Muk Ha-neul didn't press for more. We'd probably maintain this weird limbo for a long time. What I'd choose at the end of it... I had no clue. But,
"Why are you staring like that?"
Her smiling face sent a slight chill down my spine for some reason.
We finished our burgers (left the fries) and headed home after a clean meal. We barely spoke on the way back. The only thing was when Muk Ha-neul suddenly fixed my crooked hat midway. Nothing else notable.
Once home, I just took off the hat and collapsed onto the sofa. Exhausted. Physically drained, sure, but mentally even more so. It was still daytime, but I felt like the whole day was spent. I needed to sort my thoughts. Muk Ha-neul would leave now, right? Schedule was done, no more to say. At least, I needed time alone to think.
But no.
"Shall I teach you how to put on a bra now?"
Did this girl have no shame? How could she bring that up to someone she'd just confessed to?
"Forget it. I can Google it. I'll figure it out, so just go."
"Kicking me out? Harsh."
Despite her words, Muk Ha-neul plopped down with a beaming smile. Clearly not leaving. Powerless to stop her, I could only watch helplessly as she bulldozed ahead.
"You... what if you realize that feeling isn't actual lo-, love? Then what?"
"Why think about that now?"
"That's why you think about it now."
"Then it's no big deal. We'd just stay good senior-junior friends."
"Normal..."
"You're a girl now too, sunbae, so it'd be like girlfriends hanging out."
Was she always this nonchalant? I'd only seen her slightly cowed side before, so this felt fresh.
"Don't treat me like a girl."
"Sorry~."
In just one day since reuniting, it felt like she'd snatched control again. I sighed, closed my eyes. No time to sort thoughts—I fell straight asleep.
~
Sunbae had dozed off. I waited a bit, wondering if she was faking, but her breathing evened out. Definitely asleep.
I'd prepared in various ways after hearing she'd become a woman, but I hadn't expected her to shrink this much. Not so childlike. But honestly, it was better this way. Something in sunbae had definitely changed. She hadn't noticed it herself, but deep inside, she was slowly transforming. I could tell. But I needed to confirm it more surely. The chance was still ahead. I'd have to wait a little longer.
Anyway, unexpected boon. The shrunken sunbae was adorable and lovable. People are heavily influenced by appearances—obvious fact. She had no right to complain about this change. Anyone would fall for sunbae like this. If she'd stayed her old self, claiming her might've been tough. But heaven helps Muk Ha-neul? Sunbae was no longer that tough guy. Just a small, cute, easy target.
Still rude and arrogant, sure. But that didn't matter anymore. Coming from this body, it just sounded cute. Hate women? Not possible now. She'd become the very woman she despised most.
The old sunbae had the strength to hold her personality and ideals. But now? Nothing. She hadn't noticed, but she was powerless. Defenseless. Even for an acquaintance—even me—letting someone into her home at a time like this meant something. I snapped a photo of sleeping sunbae and stroked her hair. Personal keepsake.
My smartphone buzzed softly. I stepped away so she wouldn't wake. It was Yun Su-a, one of my few friends.
She'd sent several photos of Seol-guk, hat slightly askew revealing white hair. Amateur shots, not pro-level, but clearly recognizable as Seol-guk.
I'd lied to Su-a, saying it was revenge on sunbae. She hesitated but helped—couldn't refuse her first favor from a friend. She could be ruthless for pranks on sunbae, though.
Photos secured. Just time the release right.
Reading sunbae's writing—sharing the same pain—I realized I loved her. Maybe fate. Only we two, sharing that suffering, could love each other.
Revenge was a lie, but actions weren't far off. Sunbae might get worn down or broken in the storm. Or hold out to the end. Or shatter completely. Either way, fine. If she endures, she's still the sunbae I love. If she breaks, that broken version's attractive too. Whatever she becomes, the novel born from it would be beautiful.
~
I dreamed again. Muk Ha-neul's dream. The sky was pitch black, ink-black rain pouring. We ran from it. I was a man, she a woman. We rushed home, toweled off roughly. We talked, but I can't recall what about—even as the teller.
Conversation over, we sat. I read Muk Ha-neul's novel; she read mine. We critiqued, voices rising. She started quiet, grew louder. I shrank smaller. Finally, held in her hand, I was locked in a birdcage. Looking in the mirror, a single small bulging-eyed bird stared back.