Chapter 117: My younger sister is a streamer (2)
Part 0 (Sanghyun’s Dream)
“Ugh.”
The moment Sanghyun opened his eyes, he knew he was dreaming. It wasn’t just the strange voice that came out—it was the unnatural lightness of his body that tipped him off.
Shouldn’t dreams lack tactile sensation? The thought crossed his mind, but perhaps that very lack was why his body felt so light, he mused.
“Time…”
Surprisingly—or not—his smartphone lay neatly by his bedside, just as it always did. Same model, too. The time, whether due to the dream or his youthful body, was earlier than his usual wake-up. Checking the date, it was about two weeks after universities started the semester—roughly the same as reality.
“…What a mess.”
Mid-March. A typical spring day.
Nothing seemed too different from the last dream. Waking early gave Sanghyun time to leisurely check the streams he—or someone he assumed was him—had done. It’s just a dream, so why not do whatever? Maybe it was a habit from work. He scrolled through videos for a couple of hours. With days still short, by the time he needed to “work,” the sun was already dipping.
The dream’s streams weren’t much different from last time, thankfully. Still a striking appearance, a charming gap between looks and gameplay, and… his brother’s—
“Brother’s?”
…intrusion.
“…Feels off.”
Honestly, Sanghyun could barely recall what his “brother” used to look like. Not tied to one moment, but gradually, over 20 years, his family’s image had layered itself in his mind.
The word “brother” no longer conjured a frail, almost effeminate man with black hair. Now it was someone a head shorter, with un-Asian blonde hair, golden eyes, and pale skin—a woman whose only unchanged trait was her slender frame.
“…Gotta work.”
No need for stray thoughts. Better not say anything weird when he woke. He was glad to have work, even in a dream. LayeredCloud or StarCloud, whatever—keep pushing.
Stepping away from the humming computer, he eyed the oversized door, feeling absurdly out of place. His arm stretched awkwardly upward to grab the handle, and he let out a deflated chuckle as he left the room.
He didn’t start streaming right away—he needed dinner first. He’d thought his smaller appetite would be boring, but viewers seemed to love watching a tiny figure nibble, as every recorded stream included eating scenes.
“…Should be in the fridge.”
It occurred to him that the details might not match real life, but he figured opening the fridge would reveal dinner. His short legs made the hallway feel endlessly long.
“Where…”
“Hey, you’re up?”
Time stopped.
“Seohyun-ah?”
Only Sanghyun’s time stopped, it seemed. His head creaked toward the voice. Familiar blonde hair. Soft golden eyes. So familiar now, the woman in a plain white t-shirt, dolphin shorts, and apron looked natural. She filled his dazed vision.
“…Hyung?”
“Unnie.”
Déjà vu.
“Didn’t we say we’d fix it in daily life?”
Of course.
This dream was clearly more tangled. Though the details were unclear, just knowing Yoonseo looked exactly as she did in his memories made Sanghyun feel like he was losing it.
Who called the ambulance then? What about the in-between moments? How do I piece this together? Unlike when their roles swapped, both being like this felt… wrong, somehow.
“…No way!”
His lowered perspective, his voice, her words—could it all be a mistake? His hand shot to his chest. Though not visible, the soft sensation—
“…Are you the type to get turned on by your own body?” Yoonseo’s voice cut in.
“I’m going insane.”
It was like last time. Too vivid for a dream. Her sharp voice pierced his ears, too real to laugh off. Watching her heat food from the fridge was anything but comfortable.
“…Don’t get distracted with the stove on,” she said.
“Better than jerking off in the kitchen with family around,” he retorted.
“Don’t say it so crassly.”
“How else do I say it?”
Her sigh stung. “This is 100% a dream, and I was supposed to be a guy—” Saying that would only make her icy glare worse, so he shut up. It’s a dream. Why justify anything? That thought weighed heavily.
“…Honestly, if I don’t touch mine, when will I ever touch breasts?” he muttered.
“Make friends and go to a public bath.”
“That’s a crime.”
“Your current look feels criminal to me.”
He hadn’t checked a mirror, but he knew roughly what he looked like. Imagining his original self groping his current chest, he nodded as if it made sense.
“Hyung.”
“Unnie.”
This was maddening.
Though Sanghyun said he didn’t care what he ate, Yoonseo grumbled, “Why do you and Oppa always skimp on food?” Ten minutes passed as he sat quietly, waiting.
“…Unnie.”
“What?”
The faint sizzle from the frying pan—likely with fried rice—hummed steadily. Staring at it, Sanghyun glanced at Yoonseo, who occasionally moved her hands, and spoke slowly.
“How long’s it been like this?”
Her hand froze for a moment, a reaction he didn’t miss.
“…Three months?”
“Been a while.”
“Yeah.”
Whether Sanghyun was a man or like this, whether Yoonseo was a man or a woman, the kitchen scene when he woke was oddly constant. The thought struck him.
He no longer worried about his family’s confusion. Yoonseo had proven countless times she was still herself. Though she sometimes seemed sorry for others, Sanghyun now believed she’d have found her place without help.
Even as he’d become this, less helpful than ever, his brother—his family, this Yoonseo—remained steadfastly in place.
Knowing it was a dream, Sanghyun found that comforting. His family, now used to their situation, could even worry about others.
“Three months in, these breasts are mine, right?” he teased.
“You’re gonna get it.”
A giggle burst out. Spring day, dream or not—let’s just enjoy it, Sanghyun, no, Seohyun, thought.