Good riddance .23.

I found myself staring at the form beside me again, hidden beneath a layer of blankets and sheets. My hand was in his; our fingers tightly wrung together beneath the warmth of the bed coverings. I traced his outline with my eyes, watching intently for any movement whatsoever.

The following events played out like Deja vu. A weird constricting went on in my chest as I continued staring at his concealed form beside me with overflowing adoration, but that all quickly took a tumble into chaos with the sound of familiar voices on the other side of the wall. Alarmed, I jumped out of bed in that uncanny timeliness of events and began pulling again on Suga’s arm; the panic of being caught with much explaining to do so intense that I lost a grip on the appendage, earning me an abrupt greeting with the floor from behind.

Almost like a movie I’d watched countless times before, I sat staring in horror at the familiar – however unfamiliar – thing in front of me. What on earth was going on? There was now banging on the bedroom door and my head span with all the inexplicable things happening around me. I reached out to him tentatively in bed; my eyes not moving from his form despite the migraine I felt coming on; and the top of my head itched with fierce irritation.

‘Well folks, it seems like number 8; Insanity; has finally taken the cake!’ the emcee’s melodramatic voice cried in wonderment, followed by deafening cheers that rang in my ears.

‘After how many trials and—hold on, folks! A… a miracle has happened! It seems like number 5; Wish; has suddenly taken the lead!’

The crowd’s booming surprise at the announcement reverberated through my entire body like an earthquake. Even though I felt a sense I’d been here and done the very same things before, the fact that I actually managed to reach out for Suga’s exposed hand on the bed this time was an entirely new feat… and the fact that he responded to the touch was even newer.

Almost every spectator in the large audience stood up from their seats; their eyes glued to the horserace as if their lives depended on the outcome; and the excitable announcer was seemingly on the verge of tossing his neon yellow microphone into the air.

‘And there we have it!! The winner is—’

I woke up feeling horrible.

My eyelids felt like heavyweights I could barely open as I regained consciousness, and my body felt as if someone had whacked me with a good old baseball bat. I groaned at the awful pain that lingered in my limbs and the first thought that occurred to me was the terrible sleeping position I adopted the night before, and that thought led to another.

I took a moment to recollect the events of last night to perhaps explain how I’d done myself such a great disservice practically sleeping in a position worthy of a man in a llama suit, and remembered an explosion, considering it was the last thing I’d seen before falling off to sleep. I recalled us watching a very fast paced action movie and a shirtless man, smiling at something apart from the protagonist’s glorious sweeps of sweaty hair, eating a truck load of junk food I probably shouldn’t have, and…

‘Itai…’ I whimpered at the pulsing pain that suddenly appeared on the roof of my skull.

I reached out for it slowly; slipping my arm out from under the warm blankets with regret when the cold made an appearance; and touched the crown of my head to perhaps ease the pain that swirled there with grotesque throbbing… however the hair I felt didn’t belong to me.

Terribly confused at the fact that I was feeling hair but couldn’t feel my head at all, I began scratching the surface vigorously. Since when was my hair that thick that I couldn’t even feel my skull? The thought was somewhat alarming. The last thing I wanted was for that simple thought to escalate into something as elaborate as aliens having anesthetized me to steal my brain, but considering the thought was already playing out as dramatically as the action movie we watched last night, I panicked.

I pulled my hand away and was about to get up when something beside me moved, gradually taking away the awful sensation that lingered at the top of my head. Almost immediately the pain disappeared and I sighed in relief… yet the ease I felt was short-lived.

Following the shifting of the weight was a deep groan from behind that stopped me in my tracks as I slowly peeled away from the blankets and cushions surrounding me. I wasn’t sure what it was, but an inexplicable sense of weirdness took over me entirely. Something didn’t feel right, and the rustling going on behind only helped feed the uncanny feeling.

I turned around sharply only to find myself on the brink of a mini heart attack. My mouth fell open slightly and my eyes widened in what felt like some serious slow motion; the two in incredible sync with my thoughts that took a plummet into nothing.

Suga rubbed his eyes before pinching them together at the center; an awfully groggy look on his face as he did all this. ‘What time is it…?’

His voice was so husky it sent an echo-worthy tremble throughout my entire being. I opened my mouth to perhaps answer him or to just say anything at all, but all I was capable of at the time was blinking and breathing in my shock. No words came out. And noting my silence – eyes still closed as he continued to rub them – a grumble sounded at the base of his throat, followed by a hand snaking up his shirt which was an awful morning habit of his, but I was far too stunned by something else I saw to respond to that.

‘Morning.’

‘H… hey…,’ I managed to choke out, instinctively touching my throat at how the words sounded. ‘Yoongi, I think…’

Suga’s head stooped to the left slowly with exhaustion and my shock transformed into panic. I leaped forward – despite how bold of an action it was at the time considering what I was seeing – and gripped him by the shoulders, shaking him back to life wildly.

‘Wake up, fool!’ I shouted, successfully managing to get Suga’s eyes open as he stared at me with the sleepy pair.

‘You… you have to see this.’

The first thing he felt upon stirring awake was something touching his hair. He found it odd at the time but the fact that he was still sleepy quickly pushed the sensation to the back of his mind as exhaustion settled back in.

With the incredibly vivid dream that visited him again moments prior, he felt as if he hadn’t had even a wink of sleep. The scenes were so action-packed and frighteningly real that he felt exhausted even being a part of them. A handful of recollections played in his mind about the spectator in suspenders hanging overhead on a floating makeshift stage, announcing the conclusion of the horserace, followed by him reaching out for the petite form on his bed… how the slender hand that was exposed reached back; the contact their fingertips made so real he swore it couldn’t have been a dream.

However Suga disregarded the weird events his imagination played out and sunk back into the sofa comfortably. Yet just as he drifted off to sleep, the gentle touch turned into an awful scratching he couldn’t ignore. He groaned and the irritating movement stopped almost immediately; the comfortable weight that was beside him shifting as well, and he knew there was no hope of falling asleep now that the pleasant warmth was gone.

He cracked open his eyes unwillingly but closed them again just as fast, rubbing at them as a morning ritual. His head felt just as heavy as his eyelids, but apart from that, he felt better than he ever had waking up ever since being in the girl’s body with her ovaries running a monthly mock in there.

What time is it…? He wasn’t sure whether the question stayed in his mind, but his voice felt incredibly hoarse as it sounded with a grumble.

He scratched his belly as a routinely morning exercise, and noting Momoe’s presence beside him, he mumbled, ‘morning.’

She mumbled a few things thereafter yet he couldn’t quite catch what she was saying thanks to the exhaustion that gradually took over him again with the combination of eye-rubbing and belly-scratching that helped comfort him a little more. The actions worked wonders every other morning if perhaps he woke up earlier than preordained, but just as he slipped back into that bliss, he felt a pair of hands seize him urgently by the shoulders.

‘Wake up, fool!’ an awfully foreign voice shouted, immediately tearing him away from sleep. ‘You have to see this…!’

Suga opened his eyes fully and stared ahead of him with furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. Being woken up as abruptly as he was, Suga imagined all sorts of possible scenarios, ranging from a kitchen fire, to a toilet transformed into a fountain, to a collapsing ceiling, to—

‘Wha…’

His panic revolved around all sorts of emergencies… but the last thing he imagined was what he was truly presented with. He stared at the girl in front of him in pure shock; visibly brown hair framed her face in a curtain of morning disarray. Her eyes were wide dark orbs filled with something similar to what he felt, and her lips were parted slightly in a startled expression. He stared at every possible feature he could on her face before reaching out tentatively to her, and she did the same; the two looking at each other as if it were their first time seeing anything at all.

‘We’re…’ she stared in disbelief at him; her hands hovering over his chest carefully as she continued to examine his entire being seemingly.

Suga grinned. ‘We’re back!’

Catching her completely off-guard, he wrapped his arms around her small frame and held her against him for a moment. He never imagined he’d ever get his body back, but the fact that he did filled him with a relief so great he couldn’t think of a comparison for what he felt. All he knew though was that his life was finally back in motion. That he got his entire life back.

Momoe however, struggled to retain the same excitement. She felt horribly conflicted the moment he embraced her, but the most prominent of emotions at the time was mortification. She wasn’t quite sure if she’d grown used to his wicked good looks being in his body or viewed him as someone else entirely during that time, but actually seeing him the way she did now in her own body made her heart thrash wildly in her chest… and the fact that he hugged her didn’t help ease the feeling one bit.

She was so stunned by the action that she didn’t even respond to him. She kept her hands in her lap awkwardly, praying and hoping their proximity didn’t let him in on how flustered she really was, but he pulled away quickly and stared back at her with excitement.

‘This is great,’ he said, looking genuinely pleased but it was incredibly hard for Momoe to hold eye contact with him considering whenever she did, it was the equivalent to ogling.

‘This is so great, we’re finally back! We’re…’

Suga went on about the wonderful fact that they were back in their bodies excitably and even though Momoe felt the same relief, deep down it was another story. The silly embarrassment she felt moments prior from his touch subsided into a more serious well of emotions that – judging by how glad Suga looked as he hopped up towards the coffee machine as a morning ritual – she was certain she was the only one that felt then.

As good as it felt to have the biggest problem at hand solved, she found it difficult to share the celebratory look on his face as she watched him fiddle on his phone while the coffee brewed behind him. She avoided thinking about the inevitable for the longest time possible; making sure to savor the time they spent together while it lasted; but now that the said time was up, the thought of leaving Suga’s side filled her with a heart-wrenching agony that she detested herself for.

She didn’t want to go. She was so attached to him that even the thought was like blasphemy… but as she sat watching Suga talk to her about something looking incredibly bewildered in the best of ways, she knew what she felt was selfish to the core. Before the thought turned into a dangerous sob-fest though, she slapped herself the hardest she ever had when she was sure he wasn’t looking.

I will not let you cry, she told herself, biting on her lip hard as the stinging settled into her cheek with a burning fury. I will not let you mess this up for him, Momo. He doesn’t need you, he’s…

‘Are those tears of happiness?’ Suga’s voice startled her, and the moment she looked up he was towering over her with an arm extended; the red and white Coca Cola mug directly in her face.

He shook his head with a playful smile when she took it, and took his place against the windowsill casually, mouthing, ‘typical.’

Despite the wave of emotions she felt at the time, Momoe forced a laugh; the cup fitting snugly in one hand as she wiped her eyes quickly with the other, but Suga noticed the liquid inside tremble visibly.

‘Yeah, it’s—um—it’s good to be back.’

She was incredibly grateful for her voice staying level as she said this, and brought the rim of the mug to her lips. Suga turned to look out the window at the decline of snowfall and commented on it coolly, but Momoe’s mind was elsewhere the entire time. The coffee was still as awful as it had always been, but even though she disliked it, she kept drinking because it was something she knew she’d most likely never do again… and much like parting with Suga, the thought was a painful blow to the gut.

He doesn’t need you, pabo. The feeling threatened tears, but she refused to cry… but I guess it’s OK to check him out while he’s still here.

She glanced at him longingly at the window; his face directed towards the street below that were slick with melted snow and remnants of squishy ice, exposing his distinct jawline with striking definition. She knew she probably looked like a complete fool staring at him the way she did, but how undeniably attractive he was was something she found herself experiencing for the first time in a long while. Pink hair growing dark at the roots; his milk white muscular neck that craned gracefully towards the window; the way he batted his eyelashes, the way he tucked his bottom lip under a set of straight top teeth and his thumb settled over the pair in that Suga way—

‘You should give that bubble tea maniac a call,’ he said, pulling her out of her shameless thoughts abruptly.

Momoe kept the cup pressed against her lips in a way to hide how red her face was. She’d been a professional secret admirer for a long time back when she used to work at the theatre and first laid eyes on him, but the embarrassing way every fiber of her being now reacted to it was new.

‘And you should call up that doctor.’

The events following the reversed body swap compiled of Suga being out for most of the day thereafter perhaps catching up with his friends, and Momoe searching the ends of the earth