Chapter 19: Caught in the Act

4: These Aren’t My Clothes

“Ughhh…”

“Great job!”

“Y-Yeah…”

A six-hour clothing parade. Even with breaks, I’m completely drained.

Every outfit was frilly women’s clothing. At first, I squirmed with embarrassment, but halfway through, exhaustion overpowered shame, and I stopped resisting. Or rather, I couldn’t resist.

How do you resist when you’re half out of your mind from fatigue? From the midpoint, I was just a mannequin, letting Jimin dress me up.

While I’m sprawled out, exhausted, Jimin’s face is practically glowing. She’s thrilled she got to try all her outfits on me.

Jimin, if you make me wear them twice, I might actually die.

My hands are full of paper bags stuffed with the clothes I tried on—gifts from Jimin. I tried to refuse, saying it was too much, but her insistence won out.

… My small body could barely carry one or two bags, so Jimin offered to drive me home.

“All right, let’s go!”

Jimin lifts the bags effortlessly. Even as a guy, I don’t think I could’ve carried them like that. My eyes widen at how easily she handles them.

Were the bags I carried heavier? Curious, I try lifting one of hers, but it feels even heavier than mine.

“Jimin, aren’t these heavy…?”

“Not at all!”

She shrugs, as if they weigh nothing. Is this a species trait? Dragons must be super strong.

Why do all the transformed people around me have cool traits? Why’s being an angel just weakness and penalties…?

While I’m envying other species, Jimin tosses the bags into her car’s back seat. A heavy thud echoes.

Thud!

Seeing the bags pile up like a mountain in the back seat makes me queasy. I wore that many clothes? No wonder I’m exhausted.

“Isn’t this too much? Honestly, I probably won’t wear them.”

“Then wear them! I went through the trouble of cutting wing holes; it’d be a waste not to!”

True.

That’s why I ended up taking all these clothes. Jimin hand-cut wing holes for me—refusing would mean these clothes go straight to the donation bin.

So, even if I don’t wear them, I agreed to keep them after Jimin’s plea.

Of course, she’s probably hoping I’ll wear them someday. I’ll pretend I don’t know. Yup, I know nothing.

I’m just a baby angel.

Wah.

“Bye, Jimin.”

“See you, Garam. Let’s hang out again!”

With that, her fancy car roars off—vroom!—and I head inside.

“Now what do I do with these…”

My tiny apartment is filled with bags of clothes. Even with my empty closet, this seems like way too much…

“Will these even fit in my closet…?”

I eyeball the closet against the bags. There’s a 100% chance they won’t fit, but maybe if I play Tetris well enough…

Should I organize them now?

I estimate how long it’ll take to put them away. Carrying, stuffing…

…

“Eh, I’ll do it later.”

I heard procrastination is a virtue. Or not.

After Jimin’s place, it’s already dinner time. A bit early for most, but since I pass out at night, I eat early. By force.

Tonight’s menu: soy sauce egg rice.

Hehe.

…

I toss the dishes in the sink with some water. Future me can handle them. They’ll get done eventually.

For dessert, I grab a candy from the basket. My fifth one today—my limit.

After a full meal, sleep creeps in. The house is a mess with clothes and dishes, but tomorrow’s me will deal with it.

You got this, tomorrow’s me. I’m defeated by tiredness and laziness, but you’ll pull through.

Yawn.

Cheering on future me, I flop onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. I smack my lips, tasting the lingering orange candy flavor.

I want more candy. Too bad I have to wait until Junseo refills the basket tomorrow morning…

“Oh.”

Junseo’s coming?

“The clothes! The clothes!”

I jolt up and start grabbing the scattered bags.

I don’t care if Junseo sees the dirty dishes or messy house—sometimes he even cleans up for me. But these piles of women’s clothes? No way he can see those.

Sure, he’s nice and would probably be understanding, thinking, “Oh, she wants to wear these now that she’s a girl. That’s cool.” But that’s what makes it more embarrassing.

Wait. These weren’t even my idea. That’s not understanding—it’s a misunderstanding!

Would he even listen if I explained? That overly sweet guy would probably nod, assuming I’m just embarrassed, and say he gets it. He wouldn’t hear me out.

Argh!

“No way!”

It’s early evening. Only a few hours before I pass out.

Junseo comes by in the morning to refill my candy, so waking up early to clean isn’t an option. I have to stuff all 100 outfits into the closet before I collapse.

To fit them, I need a plan. One wrong move, and the closet will overflow before I’m done.

Big clothes first.

I neatly fold the larger ones and stack them in the closet. Then I tuck smaller clothes into the gaps.

Like playing Tetris, I pack them tightly, leaving no space. Big ones first, small ones in the crevices.

…

But despite my efforts, by the 80th outfit, the closet’s bursting.

No, I can fit more. They say when it seems impossible, you can squeeze in a bit more.

“Urghhh…”

I press the pile with all my strength, compacting it, making room to shove in more. The closet trembles. Please hold on.

I stuff clothes into every possible gap, but 90 is the limit. You can squeeze once, but twice? It’ll explode.

The closet looks ready to burst if touched. I hang clothes on the handles to block the door. It’ll hold until Junseo comes tomorrow.

Now for the rest.

My tiny apartment has no other storage, but you make space where there isn’t any. I stash clothes everywhere.

As long as Junseo doesn’t see them, I’m good.

Yup.

Like a treasure hunt, I hide the clothes around the house. 99 down, one left.

“Oh…?”

I pick up the pink dress. Frilly, with a ribbon on the back—the first one Jimin put me in today.

Hmm…

The memory comes back. Looking in the mirror, seeing a cute, pretty girl…

“No! What am I thinking?!”

I put the dress down. Just hide this last one, and I’m done.

…

…

There’s still some time. Maybe trying it on once wouldn’t hurt…?

I glance at the dress.

No one’s here. It’s my house.

But…

Who’s gonna care if I try it on? I’ll just wear it for a sec and take it off.

“Ugh…”

Two voices argue in my head.

You liked how you looked, didn’t you? Come on. Think about that moment.

It was embarrassing, but it was cute. Silver hair flowing, in that pink dress…

“Argh…”

The mental seesaw tips.

Thud. It hits the ground.

“F-Fine. It’s my house, so what? If I’m curious, I can try it on. It’s expensive too—wouldn’t it be a national loss not to wear it?”

Who am I even explaining this to? My mouth keeps rattling off excuses.

My hands reach for my T-shirt. I lift it slowly, and it slides off.

Thud.

Rustle.

My pants drop to the floor.

I pick up the dress with both hands.

Gulp.

I slip my head into the dress. It goes on much faster than taking off my clothes.

The breezy feeling down below, the dress fluttering with every move.

I slowly turn toward the mirror.

Step by step.

I lift my head…

“Oh… wow…”

No hair clip or sandals this time, but the dress and my figure are so striking it doesn’t matter.

A pretty, cute girl stands in the mirror—someone who’d surely grow into a beautiful woman.

And then…

Beep! Beep!

Click.*

“Hey, Garam, Mom told me to bring this—”

“….”

“….”

My brother’s face as he barges in.

He nods with a grin.

“It’s fine, it happens. So, ready to call me ‘big brother’ now—”

“Get out! GET OUT!! LEAVE MY HOUSE!!!!”