MBL 7

Several kids were eavesdropping on my conversation with Juho, giving me strange sidelong glances as I recoiled in disgust, unable to hide my revulsion.

Im Juho, biting his lower lip tightly, didn’t once look at me until school classes were over.

As soon as class ended, I stormed out of the classroom.

Being in the same space as Im Juho was unbearable.

It wasn’t until I left the classroom and the school grounds that the tightness in my chest, which had been strangling my throat, began to ease. When I was younger, I used to hyperventilate and struggle to breathe whenever I got nervous or startled. I thought I’d grown out of it, but that suffocating feeling, like my ribcage was being squeezed, kept happening again and again.

I dragged my weary steps toward the bus stop to head to the academy. I’d spent the whole day angry at Im Juho, regretting the previous night, unable to focus on classes, and draining my energy.

With my shoulders slumped, I approached the intersection leading to the bus stop, where hyung’s car was parked. Thinking it might just be the same car model, I didn’t slow my pace. As I got closer, the car door opened. As expected, hyung stepped out from the driver’s seat.

What should I do…

If I could avoid him, I would. If hyung doesn’t avoid me, we’d have to face each other at home every day. As long as he and I are brothers, there’s nowhere in this world I could escape to, just like my small room.

He stepped onto the sidewalk and approached me.

“All done for the day?”

“…What are you doing here?”

There was no need to deliberately make things awkward, but his bold appearance reminded me of Im Juho’s shameless face flashing through my mind.

“Were you waiting for Im Juho? To give that j**k a ride?”

“…”

“You were waiting here to pick that j**k up, weren’t you?”

“I was waiting for you.”

Hyung smiled innocently, like a kid who’d discovered something amusing.

I had to go to the academy, and he hadn’t even told me to get in, but I climbed into his car anyway. I glanced at the takeout coffee cup in the cupholder, checking for lipstick marks or any trace of someone else having been in the car. As if mocking my efforts to snoop, the inside of his car was just impeccably clean.

He got into the driver’s seat and, noticing my busy scanning, asked in a puzzled tone, “You’ve been looking for something since last time. Did you forget something in the car?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Let’s grab dinner. Anything you want to eat?”

His casual tone didn’t hide its warmth.

I turned to look at him as he moved his foot to the accelerator. “Why?” he asked, meeting my gaze.

“When I needed you, you didn’t even acknowledge me.”

“…”

“Looks like you need me now.”

“…Yeah. I need you now.”

“Such touching brotherly love.”

“…”

“I don’t have time. My academy class starts in an hour.”

His car moved forward.

The place hyung’s car arrived at was a single-story restaurant building in the heart of the city.

“Where are we?”

“Just get out. Don’t ask.”

I followed hyung out of the car and into the fine dining restaurant.

It was a place perfect for couples on dates, and indeed, many tables were occupied by men and women sitting across from each other. Soft music played, and under the bright lighting, people’s faces were full of excitement.

“Welcome, sir. Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, under Kang Joonwon.”

I had no idea what he was up to.

Today, I’d practically spat in Im Juho’s face with my accusations. I’d spent the whole day imagining Im Juho and hyung rolling around together, unable to eat lunch properly. When Seokju, worried about me, brought me some bread, I felt nauseous while eating it and had to rush to the bathroom, burying my face in the toilet.

I’d spent the whole day feeling sick, but hyung had apparently been picking out and reserving a restaurant for dinner.

He’s crazy—truly crazy. No one in their right mind would sit me down in a place like this.

It was the kind of place you’d come to for a special occasion or celebration.

Hyung and I had nothing to commemorate, nothing to celebrate.

We were guided to a table by the window, one of the few empty ones.

“…Is there something to celebrate?”

Hyung, who was looking at the menu, glanced up at me briefly before looking back down.

“Ready to order?”

A staff member in a neat uniform approached, politely asking while glancing back and forth between me, sitting with a scowl, and hyung.

Hyung ordered my favorite katsu steak and flounder dish.

After finishing the order, including dessert, the staff stepped away.

“We came here before, and the food was good. I wanted to come here with you. That’s all.”

“Why didn’t you bring me here before?”

“I couldn’t back then.”

“…Why not?”

“I couldn’t look you in the eye.”

“And now you can, after doing that kind of thing?”

“Yeah.”

“…”

“Doing that kind of thing made it possible.”

His voice was calm, but his face twisted as if in pain.

We sat across from each other in a place where couples laughed and dated, eating our meal. I didn’t look at hyung, didn’t taste the food, just shoved it down my throat.

He watched me, avoiding his gaze, with a bitter look in his eyes.

After dinner, I got back into his car. My academy class had already started, but if I went now, I could still catch up.

His car headed in the opposite direction of the academy.

“Aren’t we going to the academy?”

“I told Dad. From now on, I’ll be tutoring you. Think of it as private lessons with me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It was like a bolt from the blue.

It meant extending the time I’d have to be conscious of our brotherly relationship. It meant spending all my time after school with hyung. Not only was there nowhere to escape, but he was systematically eliminating the few places I had left.

“You don’t need to go to the academy. I’ll help you study. From now on, let’s study together.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Who decided that? No way. I’m not doing it. Even if I fail college entrance exams and have to retake them two, three, four times, I’m not doing it!”

I shouted.

I’d always wished hyung would help me with my studies whenever my grades improved.

He ignored my firm refusal. He didn’t stop the car or turn toward the academy.

His car kept going and arrived at our house.

I glared at him, fuming, and protested what the h**l he was doing.

“Stop huffing and get out.”

“I’ll handle my own studies. Stay out of it. Since when did you care? Since when did you give a d**n whether I lived or died? You’ve always left me alone!”

“I’m going to care from now on. I’m going to pay attention from now on.”

“On whose authority? Yours?”

“…Yeah, mine. Because you’re my brother, I’ll do it my way…”

Muttering as if resigned, he got out of the car. I watched him walk around the hood toward my side. The door opened, and he grabbed my arm as I refused to get out. His grip was strong but never rough, and he pulled me into the house.

“You’re back?”

We entered through the front door.

Mrs. Yoon was just coming out of the study. She worked freelance occasionally, making use of her major. She greeted hyung and me.

It wasn’t like I was kissing hyung or anything, just a delinquent student who didn’t want to study being dragged in by his brother, but the mere fact of being next to hyung in front of her made my heart plummet.

I roughly shook off his unrelenting grip.

“I told Dad we’ll be studying at home from now on. You heard, right?”

When I shook him off, he grabbed me again, and when I resisted, his grip tightened, holding me firmly.

“Yes, I heard earlier. Dad was thrilled. He said Joonyoung’s grades will skyrocket. Did you eat dinner? Going upstairs now?”

I squirmed like a mischievous kid caught by him.

“Don’t mind us and focus on your work. And please avoid coming to the second floor so we’re not disturbed.”

Holding me tightly, he made a polite but stern request to Mrs. Yoon, almost like a warning not to show her face.

Her eyes widened in confusion.

“Uh… okay. Got it. I’ll be careful.”

“We’ll head up.”

His unyielding strength pulled me to the second floor. My stumbling steps made loud noises on the stairs.

He pushed me into my room first. The door closed, and just like the moment it locked, it felt like the world was cut off, trapping me in some dark, suffocating place.

He turned on the room’s light and finally let me go.

“What the h**l are you doing?”

“I told you, I’m doing it my way. I’m going to tutor you my way.”

“Who are you? Who the h**l are you?!”

“I’m someone who knows what you’re missing and has the ability to raise your rank by at least ten places.”

“…”

“Do you know how much I get paid for tutoring other kids? How much per hour?”

“So you tutored Im Juho too? While rolling around in your studio?”

“Can’t I?”

He asked with interest, as if wondering why our conversation kept veering to the irrelevant Im Juho.

“…”

I couldn’t think of a reason why he couldn’t. There was no reason he couldn’t.

Hyung didn’t use Dad’s money to avoid his control. He paid for his tuition, allowance, instruments, studio rent, and car, and he probably needed a lot of money to roll around with Im Juho. It seemed he was making money by tutoring and rolling around with him.

“Can’t I?”

“No, you can’t.”

“Why not?”

He asked again, his tone teasingly gentle.

“…Because, because it’s not okay. He’s got someone at school. He’s two-timing you. He’s a filthy j**k.”

Thinking of Heo Kyungmin, my disgust for Im Juho surged.

“So that’s why it’s not okay?”

“I don’t care if you get played by a two-timer, but it’s just not okay.”

“Do you feel inferior to someone like Im Juho?”

“Why would I feel inferior to that kind of trash?”

I bristled at his absurd suggestion.

“If it’s not that, why are you so jealous?”

“…What?”

“Why are you so jealous? You said he’s just that kind of trash.”

“…”

“I’m your hyung… and that guy is nothing to me.”

“That’s obvious. Don’t state the obvious.”

I was confused. His obvious words made me even more confused.

It felt like the concept of brotherhood, the idea of family, didn’t exist for him, which made me even more confused.

“He’s nothing to me, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

“You rolled around with someone who’s nothing to you. Then what am I? Are you saying you can treat me that carelessly too?”

“…”

“You did that to me, and you have the nerve to act so shameless? Do you even know what you did to me?”

“…”

“Are you even human? Are you really human? You did that with that guy, and then you did the same thing to me, and now you say he’s nothing? Then what am I? What am I to you?!”

I asked, pale with shock. I confronted him.

The idea that he could do the same thing to me as he did with Im Juho and then call that guy nothing didn’t sound like something a human could say. No one with a conscience could say that.

“You… Joonyoung, you’re my brother.”

My head reeled. I was the one confronting him, but his voice trembled.

He was telling himself to accept and acknowledge that fact.

“You’re my brother, and I know that too well, so you don’t need to ask what you are to me.”

His throat convulsed painfully, like a confession forced out after years of torment. Swallowing something rising within him, he looked at me directly.

“And I know I’m the despicable b**t**d who r**ed his own brother.”

“…”

I thought it was something that shouldn’t be done, but I hadn’t recognized it with such strong words.

I hadn’t thought of it as that kind of act.

“I know I’m not human. I know I gave you a wound that can’t be washed away.”

He brushed back his falling hair and rubbed his face with his large hands several times. His dry, desolate face reddened and scratched with each movement.

“I know it too well… I know it so well.”

Muttering unfamiliar curses, his hand, which had been rubbing his face, gripped his hair tightly.

“You can study on your own, right?”

“…”

“Sorry. I said I’d teach you.”

“…”

I just stared at him silently. My heart tightened with anxiety.

Avoiding my gaze, he left the room as if fleeing from me.

He told me to study alone, but there was no way I could. I sat at my desk out of obligation, opened my book out of obligation, and halfheartedly solved problems that wouldn’t stick in my head. I checked the time every five minutes, as it seemed to crawl by today. I couldn’t focus for even five minutes and kept messing around on my phone. I even messaged Seokju.

[Chuya, what’re you up to?]

[Just chilling]

[Jealous, I wanna chill too]

[I’m not going to college, so I don’t care, but you gotta study, Young]

[Bored]

[If you’re going to college, study]

[You too, huh]

[If you walk today, you gotta run tomorrow, right?]

[You and your big mouth]

I chuckled lightly at his delayed replies.

“Haa…”

A sigh escaped me.

Hyung seeped into every corner of my thoughts.

Calling me his brother, he seemed to be in agony, as if the fact was peeling his skin raw.

I tried not to dwell on his pained face, not to ponder the meaning of his words, to put everything about him on hold, and just kept distracting myself.

He’d gone back to his room and was completely still, without a sound. Even while playing games on my phone, I kept the volume low.

Unsolvable math problems, games I couldn’t get into, Seokju’s unfunny jokes—everything felt chaotic. Everything except hyung felt bothersome and annoying.

Was he really thinking of himself as the despicable b**t**d who r**ed his brother?

I could have rejected him.

That day, when Mrs. Yoon knocked on my door, I could have clung to her, dragged her in front of hyung, who was out of his mind, and escaped the situation.

While hyung was doing that to me, I covered my mouth to keep from making a sound, to keep anyone from hearing.

Then, without realizing it, I wrapped my arms around his neck and felt his sweat-soaked back. The way his spine curved and writhed toward me… I didn’t hate that feeling.

“…I’m crazy.”

I turned off the screen I’d been staring at blankly.

You’d have to be crazy to think that felt good.

Hyung tried so hard not to do something dirty to me, holding back, and when he couldn’t, he’d hurt himself, and when that didn’t work, he’d recklessly roll around with someone else.

I was just stopping him from breaking down. That was the only way.

It wasn’t because I liked it.

I put my phone down on the desk and stood up.

I opened my door and headed to hyung’s room at the end of the hallway.

Knock knock. I knocked and waited a moment. There was no response from inside. I carefully opened the door. Hyung wasn’t there.

I didn’t hear him leave…

I’d been listening intently for any sign of him, but he was nowhere to be seen. I turned to check if his car was outside but paused when I heard a sound from the bathroom.

I walked toward the bathroom. Knock knock, I tapped on the door.

“Hyung, are you in there?”

“…”

There was no response, but I heard the hurried sound of something being tidied up. The bathroom door was locked, and turning the handle didn’t open it. As I rattled the handle, trying to force it open, the lock clicked from inside.

The bathroom door creaked open slightly.

“…Why?”

Through the narrow gap, hyung, pale as a ghost and visibly exhausted, asked.

I peered over his shoulder and around his side, trying to spot whatever he’d been hastily hiding. As I scanned the room, the gap in the door narrowed.

“Why?”

“What were you doing?”

“What do you do in a bathroom? I was washing up.”

“Move.”

I pushed against the door he was holding firm. With little effort, his body gave way, pushed aside.

I barged in and carefully inspected the surroundings.

The bathroom looked unremarkable. A w** sink, a closed toilet lid, and in the shower stall, water dripped from a recently turned-off faucet.

“What are you checking for? Think I was doing d**gs or something? Do I look that crazy to you?”

“…”

That was the only explanation that made sense. He let out a dry, incredulous laugh as I glanced at the empty trash can. His lips were pale, almost blue, making it clear he’d done something, but there was no evidence.

“If you’re done looking, close the door and leave.”

“Take off your shirt.”

“…”

“I said, take off your shirt.”

“You want to deal with me here and now?”

His fragile eyes, looking like they could shatter any moment, mocked me. He was standing unsteadily, swaying slightly.

I forcibly pulled up his shirt. He flinched, trying to pull away.

Under the shirt, raised up to his neck, the scars of self-harm I’d seen in the dim light stood out starkly, every small mark vivid.

“…”

Our eyes traced the scars on his body simultaneously.

“Do I look pitiful to you?”

On his handsome face, on his strong, beautiful body, why would he do such a horrible thing? Why would the great Kang Joonwon let himself fall into such a state? Even though I knew about the scars, seeing them again made my chest feel like it was bursting with frustration and sorrow.

Hyung just laughed like an empty person. It felt like he’d done this on purpose to see me go beyond worry to anger.

“If I look pitiful, why don’t you l**k my wounds?”

There were no new scars on his upper body. I lowered my gaze.

“Take off your pants.”

He pulled his shirt back down and adjusted his clothes.

“No way.”

“Take off your pants, now.”

“What are you going to do by taking off my pants?”

Trying to brush off the situation with a joke, I grabbed him and forced him to sit on the toilet.

For a moment, pain flashed across his face. I brushed off his resistant hands, unbuckled his pants, unzipped them, and pulled them down.

“…”

On his exposed thigh, a large bandage was freshly applied. When I tore it off, he let out a pained groan.

“Ugh!”

A fresh, deep cut, still bleeding, ran across his thigh in a thick, long line. There were traces of incomplete stitching.

“What… what is this? Why? Why did you do this?!”

It wasn’t an ordinary wound. Hyung was biting his lip, a sign of significant pain.

“Hos-hospital. We need to go to the hospital, now.”

He grabbed my wrist tightly as I stood up in a panic, not knowing what to do.

“You want to put me in a mental hospital?”

“…”

“It’s nothing. It’ll heal soon. Can you leave?”

“…”

“Haa.”

Tears welled up and fell down my cheeks. He looked at me, crying with my mouth clenched, and gave up on his unconvincing excuses, letting out a heavy sigh.

In hyung’s room, there was a first-aid kit with painkillers, hemostatics, and even sutures and needles for emergencies.

Sitting on a chair, he naturally tended to his wound. His skill was so precise that if Dad saw it, he’d regret not sending him to medical school.

“It’s just a habit. Like a disease.”

I leaned against the wall, crying as I watched him treat the wound he’d made himself.

He explained in a low voice, trying to make me understand even a little. His casual tone only made me cry harder.

“…Is it because of me?”

“What?”

“Doing that kind of thing, is it because of me?”

“No. Did you tell me to do it? It’s not like that. It’s just my problem.”

“Why… why do you do it, then? Why do you do that kind of thing?”

Sobbing, I pleaded, asking why he was hurting himself, begging him to stop, saying my heart felt like it was tearing apart seeing my own flesh and blood like this.

Trying to downplay the wound, he suppressed his pain. Sweat beaded on his calm forehead. Unable to bear his hardening expression, I turned my head away.

Grimacing, he finished stitching the wound, applied medicine, and put on a bandage.

He changed his clothes and straightened his posture. There was no trace of a self-harming patient in his composed appearance.

The more neat and proper he looked, the more chilling his calm demeanor felt. His handsome face and graceful movements hid the first-aid kit under the bed, concealing the invisible wounds.

“…Have you been to a hospital?”

“What, a mental hospital?”

He asked calmly, and I nodded sadly. He stared into my red, teary eyes.

“I’m not that crazy. How do I tell someone I’m lusting after my own brother?”

“…”

“He’s not even a child born from me, but he’s so beautiful, so precious, so dear… How do I explain that I can’t control it? Should I ask a doctor what to do when my brother is so beautiful that I get hard?”

“…”

“I tried to live without seeing you my whole life. I thought I could endure it if it was possible. That’s the right thing, isn’t it?”

To suppress that urge, he was literally tearing himself apart.

“After Mom passed away, taking care of you wasn’t hard at all. In fact, I was happy. Probably the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“…”

I felt the same. His care and love for me were so tangible that I didn’t even have time to feel Mom’s absence.

“Then one day, I felt grateful to Mom. If she were alive, she would’ve taken you away. I wouldn’t have been able to care for you like that. I was thankful she passed away and gave you entirely to me. That’s when I realized I wasn’t in my right mind.”

My eyes widened in shock at his calm words. He lowered his head, avoiding my stunned face.

“I was scared of wanting you, disgusted by it, felt like I was going crazy.”

As he spoke, his self-loathing, the belief that he needed to punish himself, boiled over. His eyes glinted as if searching for a tool to cut his flesh.

He said he’d killed himself hundreds of times. Even after ending his life over and over, he kept wanting the same thing, and each time, he tried to kill that desire again.

More than his insane confession, I first doubted whether I was worth him punishing himself over.

I wasn’t someone great enough for him to torment himself like that.

“I don’t understand. I don’t get what you’re saying, I just…”

My chest felt like it was tightly bound with a rope, aching.

The suffocating pressure felt like my ribs were cracking. I pressed my palm against my chest. My breathing grew rapid.

“…Huk.”

I clutched the fabric over my chest tightly. My breath came in gasps, as if someone was choking me. Hyung, his face pale, rushed toward me.

“Joonyoung, what’s wrong? Can’t breathe? You can’t breathe?”

“Huk…!”

Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I tried to s**k in air, but my lungs kept shrinking. Checking my condition, he hurriedly ran out.

“Huk, huk, huk, ugh!”

No matter how much I tried to breathe, I was suffocating. My brain shook, and my vision blurred.

As I gasped, he burst back in soon after, holding a plastic bag.

He held the bag to my mouth and supported my swaying body. Urgently, he kept telling me to breathe.

“Calm down. Calm down and exhale slowly!”

With the bag over my mouth, I couldn’t breathe at all. Feeling like I was dying, I instinctively struggled, gasping, trying to push him away.

“Stay still! Calm down and breathe. Exhale, now!”

He firmly held me, placing the bag back over my mouth to help me breathe.

My chest ached as if my breath would stop. Following his instructions, I exhaled deeply, inflating the bag, then inhaled, shrinking it. The bag expanded and contracted repeatedly.

Forcing myself to exhale, my gasping gradually subsided.

“…I thought you were over this.”

Looking down at me with worried eyes, his large hand stroked my trembling back as my breathing calmed.

Hoo, hoo, I breathed into the bag, staring at him. My ragged breaths steadied. The pain in my chest, like my ribs were bending, eased.

I leaned against him, almost collapsing. I asked why we had to torment each other like this. Reading my eyes, he removed the bag from my mouth.

“Haa, haa, haa…”

“One year.”

“…”

“Just give me one year. Let me have you for one year. I know you don’t understand and can’t forgive me. Just one year. After that, I’ll disappear. You’ll never see me again.”

“…”

“Let me have you for one year.”

I stared at him blankly.

He looked like a salt statue about to melt away. Like a white lump of salt dissolving bit by bit in the sea foam, unaware it was disappearing.

“And then, as if nothing happened… you can live like that.”

I didn’t answer, biting my lip.

∞ ∞ ∞

Late at night, Dad called us downstairs.

I watched hyung’s steps, which showed no sign of discomfort. If I hadn’t seen the g**h on his right thigh myself, I wouldn’t have noticed any injury in his steady gait.

“You’re back.”

Dad took off his jacket and handed it to Mrs. Yoon. I greeted him and sat on the成人소파.

Hyung sat next to me. I instinctively shifted my hips, putting some distance between us. I felt his eyes glance at my profile.

“Joonwon’s going to tutor you himself, I hear. Get me a glass of water,” Dad said, addressing us and turning to Mrs. Yoon. She dusted off his jacket, hung it on the sofa, and went to the kitchen.

Dad was a patriarchal man. If providing for the family was a father’s role, he fulfilled it admirably. He never let us want for money.

He seemed to give Mrs. Yoon plenty of living expenses too. She had never managed a household before, and our house was the largest in the area. Dad often told her to hire a maid when he saw her bustling about clumsily, but she always refused, saying she was fine.

Mrs. Yoon enjoyed decorating the house in her own small way. If hyung and I didn’t have issues, we might have been an awkward but peaceful family.

“Joonyoung’s grades aren’t as good as I expected. Getting into the same school through early admission is impossible. We’ll have to focus on regular admission,” hyung said, leaning his arms on his knees like an admissions expert.

“It doesn’t have to be the same school. Joonyoung can live up to his own potential, and you to yours,” Dad said, clearly pleased that hyung, who had ignored and dismissed me since growing up, was suddenly showing care.

“Don’t take it personally if I say this, Joonyoung.”

“…”

Mrs. Yoon brought Dad a glass of water. Sitting beside him, she smiled faintly, saying despite his words, he loved me. I didn’t return her smile and awkwardly looked away.

Thanks to hyung’s excellence, Dad’s expectations for me were much lower, which was fortunate, and I never felt resentful.

“I wasn’t happy leaving it all to the academy, but now that you’re taking care of him, Joonwon, I’m relieved. Is there a school you want to go to, Joonyoung? A field of study?”

“…”

Perhaps concerned about the growing distance between us, Dad looked at us alternately with a relieved expression.

I vaguely wanted the same school as hyung, but as he said, it was impossible now. And in this situation, I wouldn’t want to go even if I got in.

“I’ll work on it gradually,” hyung said briefly, and Dad nodded, relieved.

It meant he trusted hyung to handle everything. The weight of that trust pressed heavily on my chest.

Dad pulled out his wallet, took out a card, and placed it on the table.

“Don’t be stubborn. Use this for whatever you need—books, workbooks, even admissions consulting.”

“I’ll take care of it,” hyung said.

“Keep it even if you don’t need it now.”

Dad insisted.

I looked at hyung, urging him with my eyes to take it. He just stared at me, not catching my hint.

I grabbed the card from the table and handed it to him.

“That’s right, kid. It’s natural for a father to support his kids. No need to act like it’s a debt,” Dad laughed.

“See, Joonyoung’s got better sense than Joonwon,” Mrs. Yoon said, chuckling at my action.

Hyung and I didn’t join in the family laughter.

“I’m not using it. I don’t need it.”

“Why not? You’re still a student, and like Dad said, it’s natural for parents to support their kids.”

I held out the card to him. He didn’t even look at it.

“I said I’m not using it. I don’t need it.”

“Then I’ll keep it.”

I received plenty of allowance from Dad.

I used it mostly for convenience stores, diners, or fast-food restaurants before academy classes.

Both I and hyung, a college student, were still young. I used to think his refusal of Dad’s money was just strong independence or a calculated move to avoid interference.

But now, I vaguely understood. His guilt over his improper feelings for me made him feel indebted to Dad.

The family Dad built, the blood and flesh of hyung and me, the sacred bond he created—hyung was breaking it. He wanted the collapse of our family more than anyone.

“It’s late, so start studying tomorrow. I’ll pick you up after school.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take the bus.”

“I want to.”

“Are you afraid I’ll run away?”

“…”

Hyung avoided my eyes. It meant I was right.

“You’re busy. What about school? Don’t you have exams soon?”

“I’ll handle that while you’re at school. I’ll study then too.”

“What about the band? You perform once a week. Don’t you need to practice?”

“I won’t do it until you take the college entrance exam. I won’t do anything else for a year.”

“…”

He asked for one year of my life, begged to have me. He meant he’d have no time for anything else. He was ready to take a leave from school if possible.

If I refused, he’d try to kill himself again, cutting and stitching his wounds.