Chapter 39: Comic book window (7)

Part 16

After showering, I changed into the bakery uniform Youngjin’s mom had offered as a keepsake. It wasn’t branded with a logo or anything—just a simple shirt and skirt-like outfit—so I figured it could pass as casual wear. Accepting it on a whim felt a bit embarrassing after the fact, but…

“Pffft—”

“…Come on, spitting out your drink just because I changed my outfit is a bit much, don’t you think?”

I was wiping damp hair from my face and neck with a towel as I reached the kitchen, mulling over the day. Dad must’ve stepped out, because I caught Junseok-hyung choking on his water, spraying it like a mist machine the moment he saw me.

It’s the weekend, and he’s not even cleaning or anything. Narrowing my eyes at him didn’t seem to faze his flustered expression.

“W-What’s with that outfit?” he stammered.

“Hehe, looks good, right?”

I’d expected this reaction, so I chuckled, slowly pulling out the chair next to him at the dining table. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mom’s back as she stir-fried something in a pan. She probably overheard us but figured it could wait until she finished cooking.

“You used to act like you’d wear pants forever…” Junseok said.

“It’s got pants sewn inside. Like a tennis skirt.”

“…Oh.”

No need to flash the inner lining to prove it. The culotte design had a pant-like structure, so I didn’t need to tug at the fabric to show it off. My casual explanation made him nod slowly, as if it clicked a beat late.

“Oh my, did you stop by a clothing store?” Mom asked, turning off the stove and glancing over.

She hadn’t looked closely, probably assuming it wasn’t a big deal, but her curiosity about the skirt comment was clear. The outfit didn’t scream “uniform,” which confirmed my thought that it could pass as everyday wear. Exactly the reaction I’d hoped for, and it felt oddly satisfying.

“It’s the uniform from Youngjin’s bakery. They said it looked good on me and gave me an extra set, so I grabbed it.”

“It looks more like casual clothes than a uniform,” Mom said.

“There’s no logo or anything… maybe that’s why they gave it as a gift.”

It crossed my mind that they might’ve just bought off-the-shelf clothes to use as uniforms. No branding, no custom design—probably not some high-end brand, right? I was a bit nervous after accepting it so quickly.

“If you’re okay wearing stuff like that, maybe change how you address me,” Junseok teased.

“No way. I can tell you’re having creepy thoughts,” I shot back.

He clutched his chest dramatically, slumping onto the table. Mom, holding a steaming plate of stir-fried potatoes, gave him a pitying look. The hot plate hovered dangerously close to his cheek, and he jolted back in panic. Mom and I burst into laughter at the same time.

“If you want to hear ‘oppa,’ get a girlfriend. You’re popular, aren’t you?” I said.

“Popular, my foot. I’m so swamped with work, everyone at the company treats me like a machine. Seniors, juniors—they all see me as an AI that goes ‘beep’ and solves their problems, not a person.”

“…That bad?”

“Don’t even get me started.”

I remembered Dad mentioning this morning that Junseok had been worn out lately. Even if he tried to hide it, the exhaustion was creeping through.

“…By the way, Mom, where’s Dad?” I asked.

“Wait, wasn’t this supposed to be a heartwarming moment where you see my struggles and offer some sympathy?” Junseok interrupted, raising his voice.

Ignoring him, I turned to Mom. I wanted to help, but this wasn’t something a quick thought could fix.

“He’s on a call. Sounds urgent, might take a while,” Mom said casually, pulling out a chair to sit.

She picked up her chopsticks, ready to start dinner without waiting for Dad, as if it were no big deal. Her gaze lingered on me, though, like she had something to say.

“Yoonseo?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“You’re not forcing yourself to please me, are you?”

As expected, she spoke cautiously, still holding her chopsticks. I mulled over her words for a moment. It wasn’t hard to guess what she meant. Dad being out gave her the chance to ask.

“The girl clothes?” I clarified.

She didn’t respond directly. Mom quietly hoped I’d fully embrace living as a woman, while Dad just wanted me to be myself. Both came from love—I wasn’t so young as to miss that. Mom’s acceptance of my current self didn’t feel like pressure.

“Hmm, it’s hard to explain… It’d take too long to go through everything,” I started.

I didn’t want her to feel burdened by my choices either. I couldn’t go back to who I was before. The past was just that—past. The person I’d live as now, the one I had to be, was this girl. I had no intention of denying that anymore.

“Rather than trying to act feminine… I just thought it’d be better to live in a way that suits me now.”

This wasn’t about being masculine or feminine—it was about being me. I ended with that thought, giving a faint smile as I glanced at the still table. I was still worrying people—friends, family—in so many ways.

“…I see,” Mom said.

“Yeah. It’s not about meeting your expectations or anything, so don’t worry.”

Her lips curved slightly, and she nodded. Was it relief? Something else? I couldn’t tell, but for now, this felt enough. It was okay.

“…Yoonseo, since when did you have a fashion hobby?” Dad’s voice came from behind, having returned to the table.

“If you’re set on this, at least change how you address me…” Junseok grumbled.

With their voices, dinner officially began.

Just be me. Live in a way that suits who I am now. That felt enough. The warmth from my family, the moments at the bakery—they all seemed to affirm my choices. Or was that just my ego talking?

Whatever. I’d live my way. As Dad sat down, I leisurely picked up my water glass. Sipping, the faint aroma of stir-fried potatoes tickled my nose.

Part 17

I’d come to check out the stream in that warm, fuzzy mood.

• Kiyooooot!!!!!
• Nunabbattajo! Nunabbattajo! Nunabbattajo! Nunabbattajo!

“Ha… haha…” Sanghyeon laughed nervously.

“…What’s going on?”

I’d planned to just say, Got some cute clothes as a gift, pretty, right?—something playful. But Sanghyeon’s almost transcendentally resigned expression made me wonder if I’d done something wrong. What? Showing up in a skirt on stream shouldn’t be an issue… right?

Glancing at the chat, the reactions were, as always, overwhelmingly positive. Maybe a bit too enthusiastic? It’s just my calves showing, not even thighs—did they have to lose it like this?

“…Nuna, that… that outfit?” Sanghyeon asked.

“Got it as a gift. Tried it on, thought it looked nice, so I came to show off.”

• Bare legs! Bare legs! Bare legs!
• Those calves… so soft-looking… hnnng…
• Too spicy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

How starved for women are you all? I barely held back the comment with a nervous laugh, looking at Sanghyeon’s shell-shocked face. His gaze drifted to the monitor, then back to me, before dropping to the floor.

“…Yeah, looks good. That’s what matters, right…” he mumbled.

What’s really going on? Puzzled, I pulled up a spare chair and sat in my usual spot. It nagged at me, but I’d ask him during a break later.