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Minho was grateful for the suggestion, but he wasn’t really in the mood for it and was about to decline when, BAM! A sticky slime string shot out, pulling him over like it was no big deal.

He put an arm around him, squeezing his shoulder with a firm grip.

“Not in the mood, huh? With a face like that, about to do something drastic? I might just send you off myself. Whatever your mood is, I just can’t stand watching it.”}

It sounded a bit selfish to say I was worried you might do something harmful to yourself, which came off a bit too much like a heroine routine.

Not that I planned on going back to being a guy, but acting like a heroine felt off, and I didn’t want to move according to what the story writer had set up.

Minho, forced to come home like that, reluctantly accepted it, though it was still a pretty flimsy response.

He really seemed deeply troubled.

There was a time I thought being nice only made you a fool and left you at a loss.

But seeing someone who was nice suffer and lose made my heart uneasy.

“Nope, cancel that. A guy about to kick the bucket would have a brighter expression than that. At least they’d have that weirdly calm look saying it’s all over now.”

“You sure sound like you know a lot.”

“Well, I’ve seen my share of folks who are on the brink, physically and mentally. If I can grab someone like you, just imagine how serious the situation is.”

Minho wiped his face and muttered, “I was keeping up appearances, you know.”

“Keeping up appearances? Ha! Then I’m the god of acting, you little punk.”

While throwing shade, I was careful not to cross any lines and made two pills with slime to hand over.

“Here, take it.”

Minho looked at the pills I handed him and then stared blankly at my face, asking, “…These aren’t drugs or some weird stuff, right?”

I smacked the back of his head with a mini hand made of slime, growling, “You think I’d give you something like that?”

“It’s a special pill made just for you. The side effects should be minimal. After the effects wear off, you might feel a bit dazed for a few hours?”

Saying that, I fashioned a cup out of slime and poured in some water, urging him to drink up.

Minho sniffed the water and asked, “This is just water, right?” I warned him that if he kept being a nuisance, I might just take it away from him.

Finally, Minho took the pill and thanked me for looking out for him.

What I gave him was a fake pill. It had no effect, just a lump of white powder that contained a little nutrition.

Placebo pill, fake pill. Call it whatever you want, that’s what it was.

Pills that truly affect the mind usually have side effects as harsh as drugs or take ages to show any effect like psychiatric meds.

But, seeing as an amateur wouldn’t know better, I insisted it was just that.

The human body is a curious thing, capable of showing real improvement if one believes they’re getting better.

Of course, it wouldn’t work on terminal cancer patients or advanced dementia where there’s no deceiving them.

“But… you know, Blanca. Isn’t your place kind of… small? I can hear everything…”

Minho’s expression lightened a bit, but then he quickly followed it up with such a comment. I couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he threw that out as soon as he was feeling a bit better.

“So, what, am I supposed to go to your place instead? That seems even weirder.”

“…No, isn’t it already weird whether I go or you come?”

…

“I couldn’t just throw this away…! Ugh, fine, let’s go! Being in pain is such a privilege, isn’t it!”

Minho seemed to recognize that I was actually annoyed but not really angry and shamelessly thanked me again.

“I’m just thinking of eating. So don’t get any weird or creepy ideas! Even though I might technically be a heroine, I have no such feelings for you!”

I pointed at Minho, making it clear not to have any strange thoughts, but he really surprised me with his response.

“…Am I supposed to feed you?”

I was at a loss for where to even start rebutting that one. I stared at him blankly for a moment before finally snapping back to reality and teasing him.

“That doesn’t seem to be the issue here?!”

His question went right over my head.

I felt completely disrespected, and with the intent to poke him, I shot back.

“Oh, that? I obviously didn’t expect it! You wouldn’t do something like that! I even said not to expect any special treatment.”

That… was true. I had said not to expect anything in that regard.

But now, seeing such a dry reaction, I felt both angry and confused.

Normally, wouldn’t you at least expect a little something? I wasn’t under any illusion that it would actually happen, but fantasizing a little wouldn’t be too much to ask.

I didn’t think I was delusional enough to think of myself as a guy, but if we crossed paths, I’d at least be on his mind for a month or so.

“…For dinner, I’d prefer something fancy.”

I initially intended to just raid Minho’s fridge, but feeling annoyed, I decided to raid his wallet instead.

“Shouldn’t the one offering comfort usually provide?”

“When you go to someone else’s place, the host usually pays.”

I answered back spitefully, pressing him to hurry up and show me the way.

Minho, looking all sorts of pathetic, said not to order anything too expensive but still dutifully took me to his place.

His home wasn’t anything special.

It was a one-room, but since his family lived in another city, there was enough space for one person, though nothing particularly noteworthy caught my eye.

While the owner was busy tidying up the entrance and ironing clothes, I sprawled out on the bed he used, testing the bed’s comfort.

Minho asked if I had no intention of helping out at all, but I told him to forget it for today, and he grumbled about how I was too bold as a guest.

“When it comes to housewarming, guests are the priority.”

Having never built relationships enough to visit someone’s home as a human, I had no idea what an actual housewarming was like.

But since Minho didn’t really know it either, my reasoning held up.

Minho must have been 21 before he possessed this body.

I didn’t quite remember that detail, but he was definitely that young.

“You sound like you know a lot…”

“Well, I was probably older than you back there. Hm… never mind.”

In a comfortable atmosphere where I almost called him ‘bro,’ I suddenly snapped back to reality and held my tongue.

Minho looked a bit curious, asking how old I was – as if he had forgotten I was a woman now, I casually responded, “Are you really asking a lady her age?”

Since I was a guy there, I wondered if I could say something like that, but at least here I was a woman, so no guilt there.

Minho, saying I was older and then asking made his face look like he was at a loss for words.

I told him that was exactly why I said that, trying to help him feel a bit more at ease.

“You still think it’s all your fault?”

Just as the atmosphere started to relax, he brought up the topic he had been consciously avoiding.

He looked grim the moment that topic came up, but he seemed a little better in front of someone who was honest.

“Uh… if I hadn’t been flaunting my knowledge of the original work, those people wouldn’t have had to die…”

“It’s not your fault.”

Even though he made it clear he didn’t want to hear that kind of consolation, I wasn’t trying to offer him such a cliché comfort, but rather something I wanted to express to him, which made him fall silent.

“I have my share of blame too.”

As I said that, I revealed the fact that I had invaded the Evil Society’s modified human storage.

Of course, I hid the intention behind it.

“Wait a sec, so the reason the Executors showed up then…”

“Is because of me. Not that I intended any of it.”

After that, the actions of the Evil Society as we knew it crumbled, displaying a completely different trajectory.

“So in a way, I’m responsible too.”

“But how can that be your responsibility…”

“That’s what I’m trying to say. Just because it started with good intentions doesn’t mean everything ends well. The important thing is, you still hold onto your goodness. So, cheer up a bit, accomplice.”

“Accomplice… huh?”

In response to Minho’s query about why I was calling him that, I answered simply.

“If you’re guilty of attempting to infiltrate, then it also makes me guilty for not stopping you and even assisting you. So, accomplice. Don’t try to bear all the weight alone, because I share the blame too.”

With a devilish grin, I playfully offered my fist to him.

“Hang in there, accomplice.”

The smile he flashed while bumping fists with me held an emotion I couldn’t fully decipher.

I wasn’t sure if this would really provide him with heartfelt comfort.

But it should be enough to mend the immediate wounds.

 

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