Chapter 11: The Star of the Magpie (11)

“I’m glad you seem to be enjoying yourself, oppa.

…Though I thought you were doing something lewd. It was pretty funny.”

Our eyes met. My sister was speechless, a look of disbelief on her face. …I should kill myself. If I commit suicide now, it would become a social issue regarding the suffering of TS Disorder patients. It would spark more discussions about social support. I can save countless victims by sacrificing myself. Truly, a general…!

“Forget you saw that. Or I’ll die.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. I’ll take it to my grave. So stop messing around and get some sleep, oppa.”

…After somehow getting my sister to leave, I finally managed to fall asleep. My sister’s seemingly mocking smile was incredibly unpleasant.

I opened my eyes. The familiar ceiling came into view. Even though the light wasn’t on, a faint light filtered in from outside. It was early morning.

“Ugh, I’m dizzy…”

Not as much as when I first woke up after being TS’d, but I was still pretty dizzy. Do I have anemia? Or maybe it’s a lingering side effect of the TS. By the way, I woke up early. Amazing, me. Impressed with myself, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. 5:50 AM. Huh? I went to bed at 5 AM? I started to deduce. I soon arrived at the answer.

“I slept for over 24 hours. This is crazy.”

Realizing this, I opened my eyes wide and shifted in bed. Something lukewarm slid off my forehead. I picked it up and saw it was a wet towel. Did I have a fever? But I didn’t feel sick like I had a cold. I heard something clattering outside. I looked around, puzzled, and saw that my door was open. My father was probably up, getting ready for work. I heard the sound of running water from the bathroom.

Suddenly, something touched my hand, and I picked it up. It was my father’s wristwatch. I didn’t consciously recognize it as his, but it wasn’t mine, and my sister wouldn’t have something like this, so it must be my father’s. Why is it here?

Immediately after, I heard steady footsteps approaching my room. My father appeared in the doorway. He was in his pajamas and holding a wet towel.

“Jinhyuk, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. A little dizzy, but I’ll be okay once I wake up properly. I’ll get up now.”

I pushed myself up. It was easier than I expected.

“Are you hungry? Jihyo is making breakfast, so wait a bit.”

My father took the wet towel from my forehead and returned to the bathroom. I instinctively wanted to open DC Inside and check the trending posts, but I stopped myself, wondering what I was doing so early in the morning. I stared intently at my hand, just in case, but it was still a girl’s hand.

The feel of the loose tracksuit I was wearing confirmed that what happened last night wasn’t a dream. Ah… so embarrassing. I put on the jersey hanging on my chair and left the room. Fortunately, the Otonokizaka tracksuit had a normal design, so it wasn’t too embarrassing to wear outside.

The sound of my sister cooking and my father wringing out the wet towel filled the morning air. It was a scene I hadn’t seen in a while. Even on school days, I woke up at 8:30, quickly washed up, got dressed, and left. The 9 AM school start time is a truly revolutionary policy. Ever since it was implemented, the number of times I skipped school out of laziness has been halved. Thanks to that, I had enough attendance days to aim for graduation.

By the way, my schedule and my family’s are completely misaligned. Only after sleeping for a full day could I wake up at the same time as them.

Hearing me come out, my sister called out from the kitchen.

“Oppa, don’t leave your panties in the corner of the bathroom. Put them in the laundry basket on the balcony.”

“Ah…!”

I forgot to put the pee-stained panties in the laundry basket.

D@mn it.

My life really sucks.

…I’m sad. Should I die?

“So, you’re saying I slept for so long because of the medication? That’s a relief.”

My tone was unintentionally curt. To summarize, they gave me some medication through the IV, like sedatives or something, as a safety measure, and I slept like crazy because of the drugs. And because I was hot like I had a fever and kept muttering to myself, my sister and father took turns looking after me. Wait, muttering?

“Hey, what did I say in my sleep?”

“It was something I didn’t understand at all, so don’t worry about it. You were mumbling, so it was hard to hear anyway.”

“What did I say?”

“Something about Umi-chan… Is that the orange plushie you sleep with?”

“No, that’s Rin. The one with blue hair next to her is Umi.”

“…Ah, I see.”

Her tone was completely disinterested. Just as I was indifferent to the world of normies, my sister had no interest in my otaku world.

“Someone from that department will be here around three o’clock. Wash up and get ready before then.”

My father said casually.

“Okay.”

“Ah, if it’s too much for you, just tell me. They said they’ve already received the information from the hospital, so it’s fine if only the guardian talks to them.”

“It’s fine. I’ll be there.”

“Alright then.”

If I wanted to, I could probably go back to school within a few days. I wish half the class would change. Someone might recognize me. No, that’s just my ego talking. Who would care about someone like me? I’m certain no one will be able to connect this cute appearance with my past self.

But just in case, and I might make a mistake. Plus, the atmosphere in our class isn’t that great. It’s a normal high school, so it’s not particularly bad, but the tense atmosphere is noticeable even for an outsider like me, which makes me uncomfortable. There are often conflicts, between genders, between boys, and between girls.

I have to buy a new uniform, there’s a lot to prepare. I should make a checklist or something. But I’ll play games first.

Ah, it’s bothersome. Whatever, I’ll play games. Ah, turn me back into a manㅡd@mn it.

What is a girl? The definition of the word is simple. But in the subculture world… Those who set foot in the genre, without exception, gather, each chasing their own ideal. “Object of admiration” is practically the mainstream of otaku culture, and in that, “girl” is the… Ah, fck, Dungeon Fighter Online is a rigged game! The dialectical materialism of your avant-garde magical girl’s thoughts and consciousness exists in the completeness of humanity defined by 2×2=4, and as a price for the immobility of the meta-awareness of that injustice, Zarathustra thus… Dungeon Fighter Online is a shtty game! Ah, f*ck, this is so frustrating!

“Ah, Kang Jung-ho, you son of a btch, not releasing any epics? Should I cut your pay? Dungeon Fighter Online is a shtty game! Elemental Master is weak!”

Perhaps because I was being loud, my sister opened the door and scolded me. This girl who wouldn’t even come near my room a few days ago… She’s looking down on me because I’ve become small and weak! This is oppression!

Of course, everything I’ve been muttering is meaningless nonsense with no contextual connection. Except for the fact that Dungeon Fighter Online is a luck-based rigged game! It probably took up almost 1kb of text. This is called stream of consciousness. Smart! Cute! Eli-chika! Harasho! Harasho! Harasho!

“Stop your nonsense and go wash up. You sweat a lot in your sleep, you smell.”

“Pretty girls are clean and smell good even without showering. Hey, if I offered to let people smell my sweat, I’d have a truckload of otaku lined up.”

“Eww… that’s seriously disgusting. Anyway, wash up, we have a guest coming soon! It’s past 2:30, are you crazy?”

“Aye-aye.”

So, here I am, in the bathroom. Ugh, my hair is so hard to wash. It’s so heavy. Ah, seriously, my hair keeps tangling, f*ck. How am I supposed to wash this? Should I just cut it short?

Just then, the doorbell rang. Ding dong. Why is the guy who said he’d be here at three o’clock here at 2:45?! It only takes me five minutes to shower, wash, and dry my hair, so I would have had plenty of time to spare. Assuming that washing a girl’s hair would be difficult, I got in the bathroom at 2:40 (it wasn’t my choice, my sister forced me in), but I haven’t even rinsed my hair yet. Ah, f*ck, this is driving me crazy.

“I’ll get it!”

My father’s calm voice echoed in the hallway. He probably couldn’t go to work. I’m a minor, a body that legally requires a guardian. I can’t do anything about it, even if it’s unpleasant. I’m not denying the necessity of laws protecting minors. I’m just annoyed that I can’t solve the problem myself. I’m an irresponsible person, but I hate being indebted to others. I don’t want to feel burdened.

I roughly dried my hair with a towel.

It’s not as obvious as when I was younger, but I still hate my father. It’s not that I’m filled with resentment or that I want revenge. I just don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. It can’t be helped that we’re legally family, but if we live separately, I won’t have to see him again. My perception of my father is a kind of trauma. The kind I have no intention of overcoming, and no reason to.

Outside, the conversation continued, probably small talk. I finally managed to wring out my hair. I opened the door to head to my room, where the hairdryer was. And, as if this was a recurring pattern, I slipped. Even after toweling off, water was still dripping, making the floor slippery.

“Eek!”

The black suit pants of the guest came into view, and then the floor and my face were about to meet… but they didn’t. My father caught me by the shoulder and helped me up.

“Be careful. Go dry your hair.”

“…Okay.”

Goosebumps ran down my arms. I quickly pulled away and hurried to my room. I hope he didn’t notice.

Even though it was only a little past my shoulders, my hair took an excruciatingly long time to dry.

“So, that support fund, that amount will be deposited into my account every month? I understand.”

I thought it would require a life-altering decision, but the procedure was incredibly simple. I wondered if the department had a policy of not burdening the patients. Wait, that makes sense. The meeting proceeded in a surprisingly friendly atmosphere. My father and the man from the department did most of the talking, and I listened, occasionally expressing my opinions.

“Yes. The miscellaneous procedures will be completed by tomorrow, so you can return to school the day after, as you requested, Ha Jinhyuk. We’ll prepare the transfer student documents and send them to the school. However, I recommend taking at least a month to adjust. You can take sick leave, are you really sure, student?”

“Yes, yes. Even if I take time off, I’ll just be playing games at home anyway.”

Sick leave or absence without leave, it’s all the same to me. If I don’t have enough attendance days each month, it becomes inconvenient because I can’t skip school whenever I want. I’m being legally reborn as a completely new person, so my past attendance record is cleared, but no one can attend school for me in the future. I’m a free spirit. School should be a place you can skip if you don’t want to go. I don’t want to be restrained.

My homeroom teacher gave up on me too. When I said I wasn’t going to college, he just told me to manage my attendance so I could graduate. Well, even I’ve given up on myself, so what more is there to do? I’m a person who doesn’t interact with others. Lee Yeongdo said in “Dragon Raja” that “I” is not singular. F*ck you! Hoochie Nedval! I am singular.

“If any problems arise, or if you need any support from the department, call this number on my business card. We provide everything from counseling to job placement. As I said, we don’t have a public office to protect the identities of TS Disorder patients. If you lose it, you can find the number on our website. Confidentiality is guaranteed, of course. Yes.”

“Ah, yes. Are we done?”

“Yes, we’re finished. Simpler than you expected, right?”

The man from the department slapped his knees. My father, who was sitting next to me, pushed back his chair and stood up.

“Ah, student Ha Jinhyuk. As you probably know, there are quite a few patients in our country. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but the government is doing its best for you, so don’t feel too burdened. It will be difficult at first, but humans are adaptable. It will be alright.
Then, I’ll be going. Have a good day.”

“Take care.”

I didn’t want to get up, so I just gave a brief farewell.

My father saw the man to the door. I sat there blankly, and my eyes met my sister’s.

“Oppa, let’s go buy your uniform.”

“Yeah. Let me finish this raid. I’m playing a Holy Knight, so it’ll be over soon. Wait for me.”

I have to go with her to make sure she doesn’t buy pants instead of a skirt. Sigh.