Chapter 10: The day before planting (4)
Part 8
Three days had passed since the second checkup.
Nothing special—just ordinary days.
I’d compromised by watching the stream for a couple of hours before bed, avoiding the exhaustion from before.
Chatting with various people made me realize how boring my life had been, and the time I’d spent blankly had noticeably decreased.
I was trying to engage in some sort of “leisure activity.”
I hate to admit it, but when someone asked, “What’s your hobby, Sis?” and I drew a blank, it hit me—I’d been living like a freeloader.
That realization pushed me to do something with my life.
Occasionally, when Sanghyeon stepped away, I’d show my face on camera.
The viewers’ teasing, calling me a “swan” while mocking my dazed expression from failing to answer the hobby question, was a good motivator.
…Thinking about it now, it’s kind of annoying.
“For that reason, I’m thinking it’s about time to tell my friends. What do you all think?”
I spoke in what I thought was a serious tone, pushing aside my musings, but no one seemed to take me seriously.
The only sound at the table was the clinking of chopsticks.
Junseok, at least, looked awkward, glancing around.
“I’m being serious here.”
“…They’re listening, even if it doesn’t look like it.”
“It’s been over two weeks, hasn’t it?”
I let out a faint sigh after speaking.
Judging by the vibe, they all seemed to think, Why make a fuss over this?
Maybe, unless you’re the one going through it, “telling friends about an illness” doesn’t carry much weight.
“Honestly, I think it’s time to stop sending ‘I’m fine, I’ll be discharged soon’ texts on KakaoTalk.”
“You’ve made up your mind?”
My parents seemed interested, pausing their utensils.
Have you decided?
They probably thought, You wouldn’t bring it up unless you were sure.
They’d always been lenient and trusting with us kids.
If I was the one raising the topic, they’d assume I was ready, and that was easy to guess.
“…Well, I’m pretty sure this appearance won’t come off as malicious to others.”
Even so, their relief at my words likely stemmed from lingering worries.
They rarely showed concern after I became an adult, except for major things like military service.
But my current state was as serious as that—maybe more.
“If you were that worried, you could’ve just listened properly from the start.”
“…I was thinking you’ve been a lot brighter lately. If you’re bringing this up, you must be okay, right?”
“You’re not a kid anymore. You wouldn’t say this without thinking it through.”
Were they embarrassed to be caught worrying?
Their flustered excuses made me soften my stern expression.
A chuckle escaped with a sigh, and they responded with awkward smiles.
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“Right! We always trust our boys!”
“But I thought you might try to stop me because you’re worried. Honestly, I know it’s not a big deal, but I wanted to hear what you really think.”
As a usually lighthearted family, getting serious felt cumbersome.
Finally, they seemed to realize I was more sincere than joking, and a hint of gravity appeared in their expressions.
“…Your friends—you mean your high school ones?”
“Yeah. They haven’t come to the house much, but you remember their faces, right?”
“Of course. I was worried when you called them gloomy, but they turned out to be polite, decent kids.”
Unlike Mom, Dad, who’d never met them, just shrugged and stayed quiet—probably deferring to her.
“If it’s those friends, it’ll be fine. You’ve chosen to stay close with them for years. I trust my judgment, and I trust yours too. They’re not the type to do anything bad.”
I trust them.
Not distrust, but a promise to support me if anything goes wrong.
I doubted those digital-world-obsessed friends would have ill intentions, though.
“So, I’m not worried about your friends. But…”
Mom hesitated, her lips closing as if the topic was hard to broach.
A heavier silence settled over the table, different from before.
Junseok’s attempt to speak faltered awkwardly.
After a moment of hesitation, it was Dad who broke the silence.
“Can you tell us what happened?”
His tone was different from Junseok’s earlier question—not playful, but genuinely seeking answers.
It was heavier than I’d expected.
Had I misread their casual attitude?
I hadn’t done anything too worrying in the past two weeks, had I?
“…You know you’ve been walking around with dead fish eyes since you changed, right?”
“Huh?”
“You looked like you could snap and do something crazy at any moment, you idiot.”
“…Oh.”
It hit me what Dad meant.
Before I got into streaming, when I was cut off from the outside, giving curt replies to occasional check-in texts.
Unknowingly, I’d been sinking into pessimism, steeped in gloom.
They’d acted oblivious, but they’d been watching me.
I’d been too caught up in my own despair to notice their feelings.
“Maybe you were giving up. I kept worrying you were saying this because of some dumb idea.”
“Honey…!”
“You were going to say the same, weren’t you?”
Mom fell silent at Dad’s blunt words.
They might’ve phrased it differently, but she’d meant the same.
Now that I could think rationally about my state, his words stabbed painfully.
I’d tried to stay quiet and normal to avoid worrying them, but my half-hearted calm had done the opposite.
I felt ashamed.
“…It’s not like that.”
“Then what?”
Still, that was one thing, and this was another.
I wasn’t ready to mention I’d been appearing on streams.
Thanks to Sanghyeon, the family didn’t view streaming negatively, but I wasn’t sure how they’d react to me showing my face to thousands, given their concern.
“…I asked a taxi driver how I looked, and he didn’t react badly. I think I’m just average, but hearing I look decent gave me some confidence.”
“…That’s it?”
“The doctor said it’d be good to embrace my appearance. Honestly, I don’t think I’m stunning, but I guess I look pretty okay.”
Three incredulous stares hit me.
…What? Did I say something wrong?
“…Fine, if that’s it. As long as you’re not having weird thoughts, it’s okay.”
“Don’t worry. I’d never do that.”
“Yeah, Mom trusts you!”
The tense atmosphere finally eased.
I hadn’t realized how stifling it was, but now I felt refreshed, like I could breathe easier.
“But that thing the doctor said about embracing your appearance.”
“Huh?”
Junseok’s sudden comment made me pause mid-reach for my spoon.
My parents, already eating again, glanced over, but his casual expression shifted their focus back to their conversation—tomorrow’s plans, this month’s events.
“Uh… how do I put this? Doesn’t that mean embracing your current self as a woman?”
“…I guess?”
This felt ominous.
“Then, like, shouldn’t we start changing how we address you?”
“Suddenly?”
“You know how words affect self-perception. I’m not saying this with ulterior motives. I just wonder if our speech might unconsciously harm you. It could make things awkward when you’re out and about.”
I didn’t get the unconscious part, but the rest made sense.
Sanghyeon called me “Sis” on stream to avoid explaining to viewers.
It seemed reasonable, and I was about to nod when—
“So, try calling me ‘Oppa’—”
“Die, Oppa.”
I flung my spoon at him.
I knew his sad situation—nearing thirty, no girlfriend, a product of all-boys schools, engineering, and military life.
I got that he had fantasies about women, whether sisters or friends’ sisters.
I understood his selfless devotion had crossed into something almost holy…
“Little sis…! You know my dream since forever was to buy nice things, dress up, and take a little sister to fun places!”
He’d probably suppressed those thoughts out of concern for me, but my self-affirmation unleashed them.
Poor soul, a pitiful wanderer who’d be happy just being used…
“It’s not like acting like this with me, who’s still mentally the same, will help you escape your lifelong single status. Stop being creepy.”
Please, stay the reliable, cool brother I can depend on.