The Shock of Reality

The afterparty was locked in for Saturday at seven.

We'd already had the family dinner out last week, so this week I was actually free. Any outing of mine still meant either going with Driver Kwon or getting Father's permission first, so I decided to ask him ahead of time.

"Dad...?"

It wasn't as if I were sneaking off somewhere alone. Just a simple dinner with the team, then straight home. Surely he'd understand—

"No."

Huh?

"I haven't even said anything yet...?"

"Anyway, no."

He didn't hear me out at all. No was the only word he had.

From where I stood it was unbearable. The old me would have frozen in fear and said nothing. Not anymore.

"Then at least tell me why I can't!"

Now that I knew he was a terminal case of daughter-brain, I had nothing left to be shy about.

"Hmm..."

He listened, then stared straight at me.

...Honestly, it was fucking terrifying.

"You're meeting the teammates from that tournament, aren't you."

What?

"Uh... I mean... yes."

"How many men will be there."

I didn't know why he was asking that all of a sudden, but the moment the thought caught up, I understood exactly why he was against me going.

"Everyone except me..."

His high-school daughter, the one he wouldn't trade for anything in the world, walking into a room full of nothing but men in their twenties.

"Which is why the answer is no."

Put that way, even his flat refusal made a certain amount of sense.

"But..."

I'd become Choi Eunha, a girl born in '07, roughly three or four months ago. In other words, I'd already been a girl for well over a hundred days. A stretch you could call short or long, depending, and I'd spent nearly all of it inside the house.

"Even so, just once should be fine..."

Set aside the things that weren't my choice, like school and family dinners, and I could count my outings on one hand. It wasn't that I hated going out. There simply hadn't been a reason. The house already had almost everything, and if I wanted something to eat I only had to ask the housekeeper. There was no one to meet, either. Every tie from when I was Choi Eunha the man had vanished, and all I had left was family. Wanting to leave had never made leaving easy in the first place. I wasn't locked in a prison. If someone asked why I couldn't go out, the answer hardly needed saying.

"Daaad..."

...It was this father's overprotectiveness.

"I already told you. I won't send you somewhere that's only men."

I'd lived long enough as his daughter to have mapped nearly every way through him. The arsenal ran from a desperate look at the small end all the way up to full aegyo.

"No."

"I really can't...?"

The tricks that usually worked from stage one all failed this time. I gritted my teeth through the aegyo and even threw a tantrum. He flinched for a second, and that was the end of it. His mind was set. I was starting to think I'd have to give up on the afterparty when—

"And what are you planning to do there without me?"

The closer walked in.

With the brilliant (?) brain I'd been born with, I read the room in a flash and drafted a new strategy. The plan, still warm from the oven, was simple.

"Mooom!"

"Mm... Eunha?"

Side with the stronger one.

With Mother's enthusiastic help, I barely managed to pry permission for the afterparty out of Father.

So for the first time in a while, Father got worn down by Mother. Honestly, I thought this one was his fault a hundred times out of a hundred. Back when I was a boy, coming home late without a word only ever earned me a scolding to keep earlier hours.

He didn't simply fold, of course. He set one condition: just in case something happened, he would station a few bodyguards at the restaurant. That was far better than not going at all, so I nodded without a fight. Mother seemed to think that much was acceptable and didn't say anything more.

I thought that settled the afterparty. It didn't.

On the day itself, a new problem was waiting.

"This one's prettier, isn't it?"

Mother was digging through my closet, choosing what I ought to wear. A mother who had worked in entertainment obviously knew women's fashion better than someone who had barely lasted a hundred days as a girl, but still.

"Uh... that seems a little short...?"

Every piece she held up showed at least a bit of skin, and I couldn't help bristling.

"But that outfit is so drab. If you don't start dressing up at your age, you'll regret it terribly later."

What I'd picked was the plainest thing I could find: a black T-shirt and denim shorts. The shorts were a little short, but they still cleared the cutoff.

"Then how about this?"

"Uh... how is that any different from the last one...?"

A crop top, of all things. Twenty-one years lived as a man made a shirt that bared my whole stomach a lot to swallow.

"You're secretly such a conservative, you know that... then this?"

"I'll just pick something myself..."

Our tastes were clearly miles apart, so I gave up on letting her dress me.

"Hiing..."

She put on a perfect show of disappointment. I was that mother's daughter, though. I knew it was an act.

"I'm still not wearing a crop top. It's embarrassing."

"Aigoo, all right, all right. Haah... what a shame. You'd look so pretty in it..."

Mm. I felt a little like I'd been turned into a Barbie doll.

Honestly, I didn't think what she'd picked would look bad on me. If anything, her choices would probably suit me better than the clothes in my own hands.

"Well, our daughter takes after me, so she'd look pretty in anything."

"Ahaha..."

The problem was that everything she'd chosen was a little much for someone who had been a man in a past life, so I went with the most casual option I could find. A black oversized tee, high-waisted denim shorts, and a zip-up hoodie in case the evening turned cold. The very textbook of playing it safe.

...The shorts were absolutely not chosen to make my legs look longer.

Mm. Of course they weren't.

"I'm off, then!"

"Wait, Eunha!"

"Yes?"

"Don't be too shocked when you walk into the restaurant, all right?"

"...Sorry?"

What was that supposed to mean.

I rode with Driver Kwon, got out a reasonable distance away, and walked the rest of the way to the meeting place. He could have dropped me right in front of the barbecue house, but running into teammates who had arrived early would have been painfully awkward. The team already knew my family was well off. It wasn't something I was trying to hide. Even so, if the driver handed me out of the car himself, I had a feeling they'd look at me as something other than teammate number one and kid sister number one. Walking felt safer.

"Whoa... hey, hey, look over there."

The moment I stepped out and started walking, other people's whispers reached my ears. Even half-listening, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I could tell they were about how I looked. My ears were uselessly sharp and often did things their owner never asked of them. Accidentally overhearing gossip had long since become routine. Come to think of it, it had been a while since anyone rated my appearance. Lately my only outings were school, and I wore a mask every time, so I hadn't heard any fresh commentary on how I looked these days.

Every time pretty or cute drifted over, half of me burned with embarrassment and the other half lit up. Praise for my face was praise for me, and didn't they say praise could make even a whale dance? I was one of that saying's most devoted believers.

I walked on in a good mood, and I had just reached the meeting place, Wall-X Galbi, when a familiar voice came from behind me.

"Choi Eunha?"

"...Han Seongun?"

No wonder ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠it sounded known. The voice belonged to my deskmate, Han Seongun.

...Had I really heard him often enough for his voice to feel familiar?

I was wondering what he was doing here, ready to trade a few ordinary words, when something I couldn't possibly let slide came out of his mouth.

"I knew it... you were Eunha, weren't you."

Eunha. My name. But the Eunha Han Seongun meant was clearly not Choi Eunha. It was the broadcast handle. Eunha. He was certain that the streamer who used that name was me.

"...What?"

In that instant every terrible possibility ran through my head. Han Seongun had been staring at me a lot lately. And why, of all times, was he here? What if he was my stalker, and had found out where the afterparty for the youngest top team was being ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠held? What if he had been waiting in front of this restaurant for me to show up?

The thought raised goosebumps, and I put distance between us before I knew I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was moving.

"Hey. Don't come any closer."

The hostility threw him. His face went blank with confusion.

"I think there's some kind of misunderstanding. Can you give me a second to explain?"

He lifted both hands, the universal gesture for easy, trying to settle me. What he said next let me relax. A little.

"I'm Nebula."

"...What?"

Which was its own kind of problem, because that was shocking in a completely different way.