“Shik-oppa!”

You didn’t have time to respond before the body of your seven-year-old sister collapsed on top of your back. Grunting, you pushed yourself up on your elbows a little and glared at her, knowing it was ruined by your bangs being in your eyes.

“Yah! Who said you could jump on me?” you mock-shouted.

Bongcha just giggled and bounced a little on your back, making the breath get knocked out of you. Leaning forward, she pushed the hair out of your eyes and smiled at you.

“Nobody!” she sang with a shrug. “Now get up, sleepy-head! You gotta walk me to school, ‘member?”

Confused, you just rubbed at your face and looked around for your alarm clock. It was laying on the floor where it had fallen the second time you hit snooze. Realizing you had less than half the normal amount of time you had in the morning, you reached behind you to try and knock the large pest off your back.

“Aish, get off, babo! I can’t get ready to go with you sitting on me,” you ordered, scowling at her.

Completely unperturbed, the little girl rolled off you and the bed. Once her feet were on the floor, she turned around and put her hands on her hips.

“You better get up, Shik-oppa! Or I’m gonna be mad!” she warned, before marching out with her nose in the air.

You shuddered at how similar to her mother she was right then, before tossing back your sheets and getting out of bed. Grabbing the uniform for your high school, you also snatched up the standard undergarments you always wore. Only then did you rush into the bathroom.

Short showers were one of the few bonuses to having a male haircut, and not having to shave anything. Still, as you stood under the jet of warm water, you couldn’t help but look over your lean body with disdain. You were completely female, but without s. Or, well, you had them, but they were so small that they hardly counted.

Getting out of the shower, you quickly dried off. Pulling on the specially made packer that made it believable that you were a guy when changing for gym, you slipped a pair of boxer-briefs over it. A little bit of adjusting, and everything looked natural. A binder hid your softened chest, fitting on you like an extremely tight wife-beater. You could hide being a girl pretty easily and just wear this and shorts for football practice, or kendo.

Satisfied that everything would look male under the uniform, you slipped on the pants and kept them in place with a belt. After buttoning up the shirt, the tie was second nature to you now. You could do one in your sleep.

Your hair was still damp, but you didn’t have time to dry it or anything. You combed through it enough to get the main tangles out, then ruffled it up so it would dry naturally and not plastered to your head. For good measure, you bent over so your head was almost to your knees, shook your head violently, and then stood up. Your hair was tousled, but looked natural. Smirking at yourself, you nodded, before leaving the bathroom.

“Bongcha, you ready to go?” you called out as you moved back into your room. You grabbed your bag and the jacket, slipping the latter on first. With your bag dangling from your hand, you headed down the stairs to find Boncha just finishing her glass of orange juice.

Her mother, and legally yours too, looked you over critically. Only when she was satisfied that you weren’t going to blow your cover as a boy, did she offer you a fake smile.

“Good morning, Hyunshik,” she said cheerfully.

You didn’t feel like greeting her back, so you only grunted with a little nod. As you passed Bongcha, you reached out to ruffle her hair.

“Yah! Don’t mess my hair up it’s the first day of school!” she whined, pouting at her mother as she tried to smooth it down.

“That’s what you get for jumping on my back this morning,” you teased, glancing over at her. “Aigoo, our Bongcha is so cute it doesn’t matter if her hair is messy.”

The critical look on your mother’s face faded into a smug little smile. You had never seen a pair of people so proud of their own child, like the kid was a piece of art and not a small person. It was really creepy.

“True,” your mother said happily. “Bongcha, your oppa just doesn’t want to have to scare away any of the little boys who fall in love with you this year.”

Bongcha’s nose wrinkled. “Ew! Boys have cooties!”

You scoffed from where you were grabbing a couple slices of bread. “Oh? We do?” you asked slowly, smirking at her.

Bongcha looked confused, and hesitated, as if she wasn’t sure if you were going to be offended. But she must’ve seen the glint in your eyes, because she shrieked as she turned to sprint out of the room.

You just hurried after her.

“Yah, Bongcha, let me give you kisses!” you teased.

“No, no, no! Shik-oppa, please don’t give me cooties!” she wailed.

Despite her best efforts to get away, you had her cornered when she stopped to put on her shoes. She hadn’t mastered sliding her feet into them like you had.

Before she could even sit down to put on the first one, you leaned down and kissed her nose.

“Now you’re infected with Shik-oppa cooties,” you joked.

The pitiful face your little sister gave you almost made you feel bad. Almost. Because then you remembered the many times she used that face to get you to break the rules of the house to get her something she wanted. Never again.

“Cooties aren’t even contagious, babo,” you commented, shoving a foot into a shoe. “If they were, no one would ever grow up. Umma and Appa kiss and touch, right? They’re a girl and boy.”

Bongcha’s nose wrinkled, as if she was struggling to see her parents as anything besides, well parents. It wasn’t like she normally had to think of them as individual people, just like the idea that they weren’t always married as Umma and Appa was completely foreign to her.

“If you say so,” she finally muttered, grudgingly. “But I better not get sick!”

You could only chuckle as you opened the door for her to go out first, which she did without even a thank you.

“Bye Umma!” she shouted back just outside the door.

“Have a good day!” her mother shouted back.

You knew she wasn’t saying it to you. The years spent before Bongcha was born had been completely void of any such pleasantries. With a little sigh, you shut the door behind you as you followed your sister down the steps to the sidewalk.

Bongcha looked up at you. “Are we gonna take your car today, Oppa?”

“Ani,” you replied, nudging her to the bike you had leaning against the wall that served as a privacy fence. “It’s still warm, we can bike.”

“But my hair,” she whined in the tone that was always a precursor to a temper tantrum.

Without blinking an eye, you slipped a hair-tie off your wrist. “Here, I’ll pull it up for you, arasso? Then when you get there, we can take it out, and your hair will look fine.”

She pouted, before nodding and turning so her back was to you. Relieved you’d managed to avoid a crying spell, you just bent over to gently gather her hair up. Over the summer, you had cut your hair to keep cooler, but now that fall was approaching, you planned to grow it out again. It was the only thing you could do to be even remotely feminine. Even then, your parents still forced you to get it cut in as masculine a style as possible.

“All done,” you said, straightening up.

Bongcha looked up at you, patting on her hair curiously. Content that it would hold, she moved to the bike. “Kaja!”

You just pulled the bike upright and slid your leg over it. Once steady, you picked her up and put her on the bar of the bike in front of you. Even though she was wearing a skirt, Bongcha happily sat with a leg on each side and the skirt acting like a cushion.

“Go really fast, Oppa!” she cheered.

Shaking your head, you pushed off and aimed the bike in the direction of her elementary school. It was much closer to home than your high school, so within a couple of minutes, you were pulling the bike to a stop at the bottom of the steps that led up into the courtyard.

You had to help her down, and gently removed the hair-tie. Only then did she smile at you and motion for you to bend down to her level, which you did with a confused look.

“Wae?” you wondered.

Instead of an answer, Bongcha went up on tiptoe to give you a kiss on your cheek. “Bye, Oppa! Have a good day!” She smiled and ran off up the stairs, looking over her shoulder once to wave.

Bongcha was the only reason you had for not running away from home years ago.

Later

“Hyunshik-oppa!”

You just smiled and waved a little at the group of girls that had squealed at the sight of you when you entered the building. It was weird, having fangirls, but you had gotten used to it as quickly as possible. It helped all of your friends also had them.

“Morning, ladies. I hope you had a good summer break?” you asked, smiling sweetly.

They giggled and nodded in response, and let you continue on your way. As soon as your face wasn’t visible anymore, your smile slipped from your face. You shook your head so that your bangs fell into your eyes more. At least when you had long hair, you could hide behind it to avoid unwanted attention.

Just as you reached your locker, a heavy arm draped across your shoulders. You recognized the cologne and didn’t even have to look.

“Woohyun, I’m not your personal arm-rest,” you said, shrugging the arm off your shoulders. The tingles of pleasure in your stomach didn’t fade as fast as last year. Great, it’s even stronger now.

You didn’t have to look to know your best friend was sending you one of his most potent pouts. When you refused to look, a heavy sigh escaped him and he leaned against the locker next to you.

“You’re so mean to me, Shikkie,” he complained with a huff. “First you steal all the girls from me, and then you won’t even let me give you a hug.”

You snorted and glanced at him. “If all your fans are coming to my side, that’s because they’ve gotten tired of your grease, Nam. It’s hardly my fault.”

He pointed an accusing finger at the smirk growing on your face. “Yah! There wouldn’t even be fans of yours if not for me! Ungrateful little—”

“Uh, what’re you two talking about?”

You glanced at one of your other friends, Sungyeol, and shrugged. “Namgrease is complaining that I’m stealing all of his girls from him.”

Sungyeol chuckled, shaking his head a little. “C’mon, Woohyun. Everyone knows that the YinYang Prince isn’t going to take your fans from you. He doesn’t even want his own.”

A heavy sigh escaped you at the nickname. You never wanted to be called anything besides your name, but it seemed that after being genuinely nice and caring to girls, only to do a complete 180 in personality when one confessed to you, that it was your burden to bear. Still, you didn’t think you should have to hear your friends use it.

Woohyun frowned at you thoughtfully, before sighing. “Yeah, that’s true. Good point, Yeollie.” He put his hands together under his chin. “Please forgive me, my bestest friend?”

You eyed him like he had just turned his head into that of a toad. “And if I don’t?”

Big mistake. You saw him preparing for one of his infamous aegyo, and quickly held up your hands in surrender.

“I was kidding, I forgive you,” you insisted.

A triumphant smile appeared on his face. “I win!”

You only rolled your eyes and finished getting the things you’d need for your first class out of your locker.

“Let’s just go to class, arasso?”

“Ne,” he cheered.

“See you later, Yeollie,” you said to your other friend. The group of you had already discussed class schedules the moment the information came in the mail. You didn’t have class with Sungyeol until after lunch.

He just waved at you, before disappearing down the hall in the other direction.

When you looked back at Woohyun, he was studying you with a little frown. You could only blink stupidly at him. Lifting a hand to your head, you messed up your hair, thinking maybe it had gone flat or weird.

“Wae?” you demanded.

He jerked a little, as if whatever he was thinking had totally took him out of reality. “Ani, ani. Kaja!”

You just rolled your eyes as you shut your locker, and followed after him.

The entire walk to homeroom, Woohyun winked and flirted with every girl who looked at him and blushed. Which, of course, made them all giggle and blush even harder. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes so often that you felt like your eye-muscles needed a vacation. Stop it. He’s your best friend, and thinks you are a boy. This whole jealousy thing is old. Way, way old.

But it was still there, like a miniature dragon coiling around your heart and stomach all the time. It would constrict around your organs and make it difficult to breathe, as well as your chest and stomach hurting. That dragon had been there since you were a little kid, though. Originally you just thought you didn’t want to share your friend with anyone else, but after being introduced to shoujo manga by the handful of girls you “dated” to keep up appearances, you realized what it was.

You were in love with your best friend.

Fortunately for you, your phone trilled to let you know you’d received a text. It was a good reminder to turn the volume down, which you did as soon as you pulled it out of your pocket. A small smile pulled your lips upward as you saw who it was from.

Taecyeon: Aish! Why didn’t you remind me today was your first day? I would’ve tried to give you a ride!

You thought it was a sweet idea, even if it would’ve never happened. Taecyeon was the son of the woman who had been in charge of the orphanage where you were adopted from. When you’d arrived, there hadn’t been any girls close to your age, so no clothes were available. However, Taecyeon was four years older than you, and his mother still had his toddler clothes. They fit just fine!

It was the main thing that led to your secret today, because your adopted parents had thought you were the boy they needed to be their heir.

Taecyeon had kept in touch through his mother’s annual Christmas cards, and finally you’d given in and exchanged contact information.

Me: Sorry, oppa. But my little sister needed me to give her a ride, anyway! You would’ve come too late~
Taecyeon: Aigoo, you’re such a good unnie~ ^_^ Arasso. When are we gonna hang out? I’ll buy you ice cream~

Your smile faded, which caused Woohyun to notice.

“Who’re you texting?” he wondered, peering over your shoulder at your phone.

“Yah!” You leaned away, scowling at him. “Just Hyung.”

Woohyun frowned a little. “That Taecyeon guy?”

“Ne.”

“Oh…” he trailed off, still frowning. He’d never had a chance to meet your elusive Taecyeon-hyung, and it was a little weird. He was pretty sure you didn’t have any other friends outside him and the guys, so why were you so afraid to introduce Taecyeon to the group?

Was it because you were friends with the guy from when you were in an orphanage? But even then, you had no reason to be ashamed.

He just shook his head and chose a seat at random, frustrated with his thoughts.

Oblivious to your friend’s thoughts, you just bit your lip as you slid into the seat behind Woohyun. This way you couldn’t look at his face and stare too much. It was a brilliant plan that saved both of your grades, since he spent class either sleeping or flirting, and you took notes.

Me: Mianhe, Oppa. I’m really busy, and Umma doesn’t even let me hang out with guys my age. You’re so much older than me! :P

You didn’t get to see his response, even though you felt your phone vibrate, because the teacher walked in. Sighing heavily, you shoved the phone into your pocket and took out a new notebook to start notes. A glance at Woohyun proved that your prediction was right and that he wouldn’t be turning over a new leaf for the final year.

You jabbed at him with your pencil. “Yah, what would you do if I didn’t let you see my notes?” you hissed.

He turned around and just pouted. “Fail and then kill myself when all of my friends graduated and left me behind,” he said with a whimper.

You rolled your eyes, but knew you weren’t going to stop. “You owe me compensation for my hard work.”

“Like what?”

A little flustered by how fast he pretty much gave in, you hesitated and glanced up at him. He was staring at you sincerely, eyes pouring into yours. Breaking contact quickly, you ducked your head so your bangs hid your blush. Not fair, Woohyun…

“I don’t know, I’ll think of something,” you mumbled.

“Arasso,” he chuckled, shifting around so he wouldn’t get in trouble. You were really just too easy to tease, and gave into his aegyo almost as easily as some of the girls.

Just one more year, Hyunshik, you can do it. Then you can go to college and go back to being Hyunok. Hwaiting!

Okay so, I got 2 subscribers, and I'm really interested in writing this story. I can't say how often it will be updated; honestly I have more inspiration for this one than either of the others, but those have a lot more subscribers. I feel obligated to update them more.

Also, yes, you are referring to yourself by your boy name, because most of the time, you think of yourself as a boy. Like, your mental gender is male, even if your physical gender is that of a female. You've been suppressing your femininity for so long that it only shows on rare occassions now. However, the more you become aware of your feelings for Woohyun, the more you start mentally identifying as a girl again. 

I hope this didn't confuse anyone, and that whoever reads it enjoys it!

Until next time~