Chapter 5: The Relationship Between Dolls and Thread(1).
“—That’s all.”
The university hospital professor, exhaustion etched into his face, finished speaking and closed his mouth.
What situation I’m in, what happened, whether treatment is possible or not.
The explanation was laced with complex medical jargon I couldn’t fully grasp, but the gist was clear.
“…So I can’t go back to how things were?”
“That’s correct. At least, no such cases have been reported so far. It’s an extremely rare condition, so you’ll need to stay for a few more days for detailed tests. For now, return to your room.”
The nurse will provide the detailed test schedule.
With that, the professor fell silent, clicking the mouse while staring at the monitor, clearly uninterested in me.
His dry demeanor made me want to snap at him, but no sound came out.
It’s not his fault, is it?
I just happened to be one of the few people in the world with this rare disease.
I should be grateful it’s a bizarre condition that doesn’t affect daily life.
But there’s one thing I need to ask.
“Uh, how much will the tests cost—”
“You can check with the billing department.”
“…Okay.”
I replied weakly and left the room.
Outside, a nurse handed me an A4 sheet packed with a test schedule.
Stuffing it into my loose hospital pants, I quietly asked about the cost.
“Well, you’d need to confirm with the billing department, but it’s probably—”
The figure was astronomical.
More surreal than the situation I’m in, with all those zeros attached.
Feeling like I was in a dream, I walked down the hospital corridor to the four-person ward where I’d woken up two hours ago.
Though it’s a four-person room, I was the only patient, making it feel desolate.
The hospital probably had no choice.
Biologically female, legally male—an irregular existence like me isn’t easy to place.
On the table beside the bed was a torn notebook page.
Neat handwriting left a message for me.
[Call me when you wake up – Sis]
I’d seen it right after waking, but I couldn’t call immediately.
The situation was too disorienting, and the moment I came to, a nurse dragged me to various exam rooms.
I plopped onto the bed.
Sitting felt subtly off, hard to describe.
Men and women have different pelvic structures, so that’s probably why.
By the way, I was told I was in a coma for two days, but now I feel surprisingly fine.
The stabbing pain and the burning in my head had vanished like a lie.
Oh, one thing’s different.
My hair’s grown long.
The “her” I saw in the mirror before passing out had short black hair, but now it reaches past my shoulders.
The shimmering platinum blonde is hard to believe for a native Korean.
According to the doctor, this is a common symptom among patients with my condition.
“A disease that changes your sex.”
I think I read about it on Namu Wiki.
I even discussed it with viewers on stream a few times.
My stream, full of washed-up guys, tackled all sorts of weird topics normal broadcasts wouldn’t touch.
‘If I got this disease and lived as a girl, wouldn’t that be the jackpot?’ I remember joking.
‘A streamer like me, good at League, with showmanship, turning into a cute girl? That’s a nuke in the streaming world.’
Is this my punishment?
No, it doesn’t seem like I did anything bad enough to deserve this.
I stared blankly at my pale hands.
Smaller and daintier than when I was a guy.
Examining my body, I pulled out the smartphone from my pocket.
I don’t want to, but I need to contact my sister.
At 26, it’s embarrassing, but I have no idea what to do in this situation.
Turning on the phone, I checked the time: 3 p.m.
My sister’s probably still swamped with work.
Calling would get me scolded, so I opened KakaoTalk.
The last message from her was two months ago, nagging me to sort the recycling since she’d be back from a business trip.
I slowly typed and sent a message.
Me – Okay (1)
She only said to contact her when I woke up, not to explain anything.
One word should be enough.
She’s so busy, she’ll probably see it hours later.
But my prediction was dead wrong.
The (1) vanished instantly, and my phone started ringing.
A call.
How many years has it been since she called me first?
My thoughts were brief.
I reflexively put the phone to my ear.
“…Hello?”
The voice coming out of my mouth still feels foreign.
Your voice sounds different to others, so I don’t know how it sounds to her.
But to me, it’s utterly bizarre.
[You just woke up?]
“No, about two hours ago.”
[Why didn’t you call right away?]
“I was getting tests. I called as soon as I was done.”
[…Okay.]
A brief silence hung over the line.
She’s probably choosing her words.
But it won’t take long.
Unlike me, she’s sharp.
[I have one question.]
“Yeah.”
[Should I tell Dad—]
“Absolutely not!”
Dad.
The moment I heard that word, I shouted reflexively.
The high-pitched sound from my throat echoed like a screech in my ears.
My shoulders trembled, my teeth chattered.
A dizziness worse than when I fainted two days ago gripped me.
“Patient in Room 1102? Is something wrong?”
A nurse, hearing my outburst, rushed into the room.
I barely shook my head, coming to my senses.
“No, it’s nothing.”
“Alright. If anything happens, call right away…”
The nurse noticed the phone in my hand and frowned slightly.
“…Please keep the call volume down.”
“Yes, sorry.”
I bowed, and the nurse left the room.
Steadying my breath, I put the phone back to my ear.
“Don’t tell him. Ever.”
[Okay. I’ll keep it quiet as much as I can.]
She agreed more readily than I expected.
[I’ll come by after work tonight. Stay put.]
“…Huh? Okay.”
[Hanging up.]
Click.
The moment she was done, she ended the call.
That self-centered streak was exactly like that man.
I stared blankly at the dark phone screen.
A platinum blonde girl I’d never seen stared back from the black surface.
That face still doesn’t feel like “me.”
An indescribable sensation washed over me, but thankfully or not, I didn’t faint like two days ago.
I stared at the screen for a while, then flopped onto the bed and pulled the blanket over me.
Nothing beats sleep for sorting out a messy mind.
I tried to force myself to drift off, but my new body had other ideas.
After two days in a coma, closing my eyes only made my mind sharper.
Sleep’s not happening.
So what do I do?
…
…
“…Even after changing, I’m still the same.”
Might as well watch some streams.
I turned on my phone and opened a streaming site.
But the top-right corner was flooded with notifications.
Checking them, I saw comments on my channel’s community page.
A broadcast notice from three days ago.
Dozens of comments piled up below it.
– Park Minseo, this jerk’s gone AWOL again.
– lol he’s pulling his attention stunt again.
– Don’t come back. If Joseph’s not here, just die.
– Without Joseph, where do I get my new toy…
– Huh?
– Ban this guy.
The usual nicknames, the usual reactions.
Most were cursing me for not streaming—
– Did he get into an accident?
– F*ck, at least say something if you’re gonna disappear!!!
– He was fine at the gym three days ago. What’s going on?
– At least give us a sign you’re alive.
But some comments genuinely worried about me.
…
…
These pitiful viewers who’ve stuck with my gutter-tier stream for years.
Reading their comments lifted my mood a bit.
“Right.”
Being positive isn’t my thing, but I’ll try this time.
Subjectively and objectively, my new face is attractive.
Just a slight chromosomal change, and I’ve gained the “beauty” I always wanted.
“Escaping the Han-nam life.”
I posted a new announcement on the community page.
[Title: Urgent Notice]
[Content: Taking a break from streaming for a while. Thx]
This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to escape this miserable, wretched stream.