Chapter 21: Wings in the Rain

4: These Aren’t My Clothes
“All clean!”

I shout as I step out of the bathroom.

Flap flap. I shake my wings to flick off the water, then roughly wipe the wet floor with a towel using my foot.

I turn on the hairdryer left outside and start drying my hair. Silver strands dance in the breeze.

Whirrr.

I comb through my hair with my fingers, drying every bit. Once it’s mostly dry, it’s time for the wings.

Whoosh!

I give my wings another vigorous shake, sending leftover water flying. Even after spending so much time on my hair, the wings are still soaked.

“Ugh…”

Wing maintenance is such a hassle. They just won’t dry.

It’s not like wet wings smell bad or anything, but they make me feel gross. Only someone with wings would get that discomfort.

But drying them is a pain—feathers are so dense, it takes forever with the dryer to get them fluffy.

It’s time-consuming, and holding my wings in an awkward position makes my muscles cramp.

I remember when Junseo dried my wings for me. That was so easy.

Maybe I should’ve asked him to dry them before he left.

“Hmm…”

No, that’s too much. Making him do chores and dry my wings? That’s shameless, even for me.

Still, I kinda miss his touch… Wait, that sounds weird.

It’s like when you’re at a salon, and someone drying your hair makes you feel all floaty and sleepy. Wings are the same.

Whatever.

Stop thinking weird thoughts and dry the wings.

…

“My shoulders hurt…”

Technically, it’s not my shoulders but the muscles around my shoulder blades.

I lie on my bed, trying to soothe the twitching muscles. Every time I shower, my wings make it such a chore. With nothing else to do, I grab the remote and turn on the TV.

Boring variety shows. I flip channels, quickly lose interest, and look away.

Staring out the window, the sky looks dull and gray. Is it my mood? It was clear this morning—why’s it like this now?

“Ughhh…”

Without sunlight to boost my energy, I feel drained. Baby angels need sunlight. Clouds, go away.

The high from chatting with Junseo fizzles out. My body slumps limply.

Rolling around on the bed, my phone rings. It’s Jisoo.

“Hello.”

– My horns grew 1cm!

Jisoo’s voice is annoyingly cheerful, the opposite of my mood.

“Oh, cool.”

She keeps going on about trivial stuff like this. Why does she tell me about her horns growing?

“Maybe I’m the only friend you’ve got?”

Oops.

– What?!

– These horns are awesome, but my friends don’t get it. No matter how much I talk, no one cares. I work hard to maintain them, and no one appreciates it!

Honestly, I don’t care much either.

We only talk because we’re the only ones with similar transformations. If there were other angels, I’d probably be chatting with them instead.

Maybe I’d listen to her out of pity, though.

As I halfheartedly humor her chatter, a thought hits me.

Drying my wings is such a hassle—doesn’t she have that problem?

“Hey, Jisoo, can I ask something?”

– My horns’ shape follows the Fibonacci sequence when I measured— Huh?

“Doesn’t drying your wings after a shower suck?”

– Wings? I just pat them with a towel, and they’re dry. Why… Ohhh.

She starts to answer, then lets out a knowing exclamation. Then she continues, teasing.

– Is it hard for angels to dry their wings? Mine are membranes, so a towel does the trick. Pfft, lame. Lame pigeon☆ No cool horns either—

Click.

“Tch.”

I’ll ignore her next call.

Stupid bug.

…

…

…

There’s still a lot of time before meeting my friends, and I’ve got nothing to do.

In conclusion:

“I’m bored…”

Some days are like this. Unusually boring. Nothing to do, nothing I want to do. Today’s one of those days.

If the sun were out, I’d lie in bed and sunbathe, but the clouds are too thick, and the sunlight’s too weak.

“Ugh… Maybe I’ll go to the park.”

Lately, my routine’s been predictable: home, PC café, home, PC café…

Sure, I went to Jimin’s place once, but mostly, it’s those two spots.

I used to walk in the park sometimes, but since becoming a transformed person, I’ve been hesitant to go out alone and stayed cooped up at home.

But lately, people’s views on transformed folks have improved, and society seems to be accepting us. Maybe it’s okay to go out alone now.

Hmm.

Let’s go.

And so, I’m sitting on a park bench, grinning like an idiot. This is the same park I came to on my first day as a transformed person, thinking it was a lucid dream.

The cloudy sky dims the sunlight, so it’s not as uplifting as that day, but I’m still smiling. It feels better than staying inside.

This isn’t bad. Not the overwhelming floaty feeling, but a subtle, mood-lifting kind of nice.

Maybe I just love sunlight, strong or weak.

My wings flutter gently, not too fast.

My halo glows softly, showing off.

I can feel people staring. Of course they are—who wouldn’t notice someone with flapping wings and a glowing ring above their head?

Before, I might’ve shrunk away. But now I know their gazes won’t hurt me. They’re just curious, mostly in a positive way. No need to fear that. I learned this naturally, dragged out by friends after becoming a transformed person.

Hmm.

I should thank my friends.

Cheers to them for keeping me from becoming a shut-in. To my family and Jimin, too.

And to that lizard guy living boldly despite his polarizing appearance.

Jisoo…

Jisoo hasn’t been much help, honestly. Nope.

As I’m lost in these silly thoughts, I feel something tugging my wings from behind. I turn to see a kid fiddling with them.

I stare, and the kid meets my eyes. When I twitch my wings, their body moves with them.

Up, and their hands reach up. Down, and they reach down. When I curl my wings forward, they run up to me, reaching out.

In this odd standoff, playing a wing-grabbing game, someone rushes over and scoops up the kid.

“Oh no, I’m so sorry. My kid’s a bit immature.”

“Haha, it’s fine.”

The man bows repeatedly, carrying the kid away. But the kid squirms in his arms.

“No! I wanna touch the lady’s wings!”

“Oh, Hyeyeon, you can’t just grab people’s… uh, wings.”

“WAAAAAH!!”

The kid wails loudly as the man hesitates over what to call my wings.

It looks like he’s struggling to calm her down. Feeling a bit sorry for him, I approach the kid.

“Uh… Hyeyeon? You really want to touch… unnie’s wings?”

I haven’t even called my brother “oppa” yet, and now I’m saying “unnie” to a kid.

But to her, I’m undeniably an “unnie,” so I can’t help it. I can’t make a kid question their gender identity this early.

“Yes!!!”

“Oh, Hyeyeon…”

“Haha, it’s okay. Hyeyeon, go ahead and touch them.”

Her eyes sparkle as she wriggles out of her dad’s arms and runs to me. The dad looks a bit dejected at being abandoned so quickly.

“Haha…”

I smile awkwardly and spread my wings for her.

They’re small, barely arm-length, but to her, they must seem huge. She gasps, rubbing them, and her cuteness makes me laugh.

Her dad, no longer sulky, takes out his phone to film her, carefully keeping me out of the frame. Thoughtful guy.

The kid keeps touching my wings, but it feels different from when Junseo did it.

Why?

Because she’s a kid with weak hands? Or because she’s not drying them?

I ponder this for a while until she finally seems satisfied and lets go. I feel her tiny hands release my wings.

“Hyeyeon, say thank you.”

“Thank youuu!”

The tiny kid bows at a perfect 90 degrees. Her beaming smile is adorable.

“Thank you for indulging her.”

“No big deal. Letting her touch my wings is nothing.”

The man thanks me repeatedly as they leave. Is this the weight of fatherhood?

“Unnie! See you later!”

“Hehe, yeah, see you.”

I wave lightly as the kid waves enthusiastically.

It’s a heartwarming moment. Feels good.

As I sit on the bench, basking in the afterglow—

Whoosh!*

A sudden downpour.

“….”

No wonder the sky was so gray.

I should’ve brought an umbrella.

With that regret, I head home, soaked to the bone.