“sister.”
Late at night, a voice called out to Dasom, who had come to the living room to wash her throat.
A boy characterized by a small body that barely touches her shoulder and soft, thin eyelashes.
It was Lee Da-jun, Lee Da-som’s younger brother.
“Ugh, Dajun. why?”
Dajun Lee handed the sketchbook he was holding without saying a word to Dasom Lee.
“Did you draw again?”
Dasom smiled at her younger brother who nodded like a squirrel and opened the sketchbook.
Inside the sketchbook was a set of clothes drawn.
One piece layered with a blouse and flared skirt. The lace collar neck and the ribbon wrapped around it felt a bit burdensome, but it was still enough to sell right away.
If you are already at this level at the age of 14, how will you draw great works in the future? Maybe then, you should see it through a fashion show rather than a sketchbook.
“You drew it well. pretty.”
“really?”
“Yeah, it’s much prettier than the clothes sold in department stores, right?”
At that word, several flowers bloomed on Lee Da-joon’s face. It was a pleasure to receive the compliment.
Dajun Lee, who had been grinning while hugging the sketchbook for a moment, looked up at Dasom and opened his mouth.
“But I don’t know what it’s like to actually wear it. Laces and ribbons are fine when you look at them as pictures, but it seems a bit unnatural to the wearer⋯⋯. So by the way, if only my sister is okay⋯⋯.”
“You want me to be a model?”
“yes.”
In fact, even if it was called a model, there was nothing to help out in a grand way. All she did was sit in a chair and watch her sister make sketches on her model.
If there is only one thing, it is that his cheeks, swollen like tomatoes, feel as if they are ruining his younger brother’s beautiful clothes.
Of course, it wasn’t a serious problem enough to turn down his brother’s request.
“Dajun.”
Dasom reached out and gently stroked Dajun’s hair.
The younger brother, who had gently pulled his hair out as if he was embarrassed to do it, stood quietly like a hamster and waited for the next word to come out of her mouth.
Really, every action is cute. It’s hard to believe that such a cute child will turn into a father over time.
“My sister is a little tired today.”
But apart from those feelings, today she was tired.
“The midterm exam starts tomorrow too⋯⋯.”
Not only was he physically exhausted from repeated exam studies, but he was also mentally exhausted because he had been fighting with a friend whom he had been arguing with for several days.
“So I think I should go to bed early today⋯⋯. Can’t we postpone the modeling job to a later date?”
Da-Jun Lee opened her mouth, shaking her head toward her older sister, who continued to speak in a soothing tone as if she was sorry.
“Ugh, it’s okay. It’s not that urgent.”
“Dajun-ah, I’m so sorry about your sister. I’ll make sure to do it next time, so let’s wait a little bit.”
Dasom, who felt strange at her brother’s sea-like understanding, knelt down and made eye contact with those jewel-like eyes.
“Sweet dreams.”
“⋯⋯Yes, my sister too.”
She stroked her sister’s soft hair once more and headed to her room.
And the next day, Dajun Lee passed away.
* * *
Everything was as usual. The exam questions were difficult as usual, the curry served for lunch was delicious, and the friend who didn’t apologize for the wrong topic in the first place was unlucky.
No, to say that there is no luck is cancellation. Because she had just cried and apologized.
I wanted to apologize all the time, but when I saw him crying because he was afraid that he might be angry, he felt sorry for him, and he was also angry with himself for making his friend uneasy by putting his self-esteem in the forefront.
Whatever the case, it was a good day. That’s what she thought until her homeroom teacher called her out of the classroom.
Beads of sweat the size of a fingernail were forming on the teacher’s nose, seen up close. After hesitating for a while, he soon wrote an address on a notepad and handed it to Dasom.
When I asked what was going on, he just said he had to go right away, but didn’t say anything back. It was as if he didn’t really want to put it in his mouth.
After leaving school, he grabbed a taxi and headed to the address written on the note. And before long, a towering hospital building appeared across the road.
However, even at the moment of entering the hospital, Dasom did not show any special emotional agitation.
It was certain that something bad had happened. It was also true that he felt a bit of urgency because of that. Still, somehow, the crisis did not feel like his own.
Because, everything was as usual. Because even the trivial omens that would normally occur in a crisis situation did not appear.
Suddenly, a picture of her grandfather she had seen a few months ago came to her mind. He was lying on the bed with his roots stretched out like a plant, silently staring at the ceiling.
It must have been that the heavens, who took pity on their appearance, gave them rest.
It was sad, but not that sad. Because he had never talked to him, and he had not heard a common gossip from his father, probably because he had a bad relationship with his family.
Even if such a person died, only a faint sense of loss was felt, and it was true that somehow it did not touch my heart.
A red lamp was flashing where I followed the guide of the staff.
And, in front of him, her parents were sitting down and crying.
Something is wrong. also very seriously.
After that, I don’t really remember. Without even having time to properly organize their thoughts, they had to wear black clothes and greet relatives they could only see on holidays. He had to watch the grown-ups bow their heads in front of a picture of a boy who was much younger than them. A large wooden crate had to be put in the long car.
After a while, the car drove around the house and then around the nearby park. It was a park where the family used to go out on an occasional outing.
The last place we arrived was a strange building with several empty rooms. Once inside, people suddenly began to say goodbye to the wooden box. The father cried.
Dasom didn’t cry. didn’t even say hello. I don’t know, but I felt like I shouldn’t have thrown it out of my mouth.
But contrary to the wind, the crate began to slowly move away from her view.
After a while, I heard someone calling my father. But my father just sat blankly and stared into the air.
After a while, I heard someone calling my mother. But the mother just sat down and wept.
Finally, two or three relatives helped their parents out. And not long after, he appeared with a white jar. It was a jar with an eerie atmosphere with the name of his younger brother written on it.
got back into the car. In the car going up the narrow mountain road for a long time, Idasom felt a little nauseous.
The people who got out of the car moved cautiously with their jars in their hands. Then, he put the jar with the name of a three-year-old man named Da-Jun Lee written on it and put it in a box in the ground.
That was the end. It was just that.
* * *
The investigation began immediately without a break, and soon after, a letter was found in his brother’s locker.
He said he was being bullied.
The younger brother was a child full of talent. Although he was younger than him, he competed in numerous competitions and never missed a prize.
That was the issue.
The beginning was the words the principal uttered during the morning inquiry. That day, for some reason, he didn’t want to see the cluttered children in the playground.
So I took out my brother’s name. He laid out his younger brother’s talents and achievements, urging other students to wake up.
And that wasn’t enough, so I displayed my brother’s works on the bulletin board at the school.
To celebrate the achievements of student Da-Jun Lee, who is sweeping national competitions even though she is only a freshman.
And to take his ball and turn it into a school-wide ball.
Every student at school saw his brother’s work. Everyone looked into his brother’s head.
Some of them thought it was disgusting for him to design women’s clothing as a man. There were those who felt envious of their outstanding talents. Some people hated it just because others didn’t like it.
And my brother died. jumping off the veranda.
My brother’s cell phone text message box was full of derogatory comments.
There was no physical violence, but testimonies that bullying was centered on a specific group also began to appear one by one.
For the first time, Dasom saw her father, who had been living an easy life, get angry for the first time.
He used all available means as a local keeper to find out those involved in his brother’s death and destroyed them using the most brutal methods possible.
Perhaps, if he had put aside his stupid hypocrisy and used that power earlier, his younger brother might not have died.
He himself knows that fact better than anyone else. So that’s why you’re so angry. Idasom could see it vaguely.
But anyway, my brother died.
said to have died
Everything was so sudden that it didn’t feel real. Rather, it felt like watching a movie on the screen.
So she couldn’t believe that her brother had died. It was not accepted.
To die, the only death he knew was that he was shot or stabbed and bled through, reciting a line or two of wonderful lines and closing his eyes.
But why my brother? The child is normal. He can’t shoot a gun, he can’t even handle a knife. There was no such thing as a strange sign.
The child drew a picture and showed it to him as usual, and in return he stroked his hair. Soft black hair as usual.
misunderstood All of them are making absurd misunderstandings. My brother didn’t die. Obviously, he was away for a while to participate in the local competition.
There was no reason to think about the lack of contact.
My parents would be angry if I told them to skip school and attend. And it was clear that a child, exquisitely the size of his brother, had fallen out of the apartment.
Yes, in a little while, the door will open and my brother will come in. As usual, he will sprint along with his sketchbook, and his squirrel-like eyes will sparkle.
But no matter how much time passed, the door did not open.
My brother’s room, which had been lit until late at night, was now pitch black. I could no longer hear the song of an unknown foreign singer that was playing from time to time in the room.
Human death was like that.
As soon as he vaguely acknowledged such a fact, Dasom entered his brother’s room as if possessed.
My brother didn’t die. There must have been a hint hidden somewhere. Because I was a kid who liked such pranks from the beginning.
She soon began to overturn her sister’s room. I disassembled and inspected each drawer of the desk, pulled out the mattress of the bed and scoured it thoroughly.
But nothing comes out. No, no. I can’t.
Now, Dasom was running rampantly to destroy the room. Come on, come on, come on. And finally I heard the sound of something falling from the bookshelf.
After clearing the bookshelf, Dasom held her breath and carefully pulled out the object behind her.
It was a sheet of paper. Paints with beautiful colors were on top of the delicate lines that I had seen before.
A woman was depicted in the painting. Eyes drooping unsightly, cheeks plump like tomatoes, and finally, that hateful smile. Alas, he knows this woman.
Looking back, I think I’ve heard stories like that. What gift would you like to receive on this birthday? So, as a joke, I asked him to draw a portrait. For the purpose of submission to the art performance evaluation instead.
It was a light joke. It wasn’t sincere. He had no intention of bothering his younger brother while he was busy with his work.
But my brother did. He listened carefully to what he had to say, and listened to him seriously without passing anything lightly.
On the other hand, what about herself?
“Ah⋯⋯.”
Were you really tired that day, when your brother held out his hand for the last time? Can you put your hand on your chest and proudly declare that you are very tired from studying for the exam, which is not even as good as your nails?
Did you really not know that modeling is just an excuse to create a place to talk with your sister?
Can you say that I’m not tired of hearing a similar repertoire every day? My younger sister also has friends, so why can’t I just say that I’m not dissatisfied because I only consult with her every time? Don’t you think that playing with your friends is more fun than your brother, unlike in the past? Have you ever been in your sophomore year of middle school and never really felt ashamed to play with your younger brother?
To his younger brother who, unlike himself, has numerous talents and monopolizes the attention of his parents.
Can you really say that you didn’t feel even the slightest bit of jealousy?
“⋯⋯.”
I suddenly remembered my brother’s text message box that I had seen a few days ago.
Exactly, a text message that I saw there, affirming that your sister would also think that your painting was disgusting.
I felt my whole body sink. All the blood and organs had escaped and there was no strength to even stand.
The beautiful picture in his hand was getting messed up with water droplets from somewhere.
The CCTV footage she had seen the day before came to mind. The younger brother in the video stood for a long time without getting out of the elevator.
Then I finally opened the door and stepped in. With hesitating steps as if someone was asking him to dry him, he tightly embraced the sketchbook in his hand.
“⋯⋯.”
I had been delaying my brother’s model offer for several months because of being bothersome, cumbersome, annoyed, and tired.
“⋯⋯, wow.”
Looking down at him with arrogant eyes, he was busy passing the work he had to do to someone who didn’t exist.
The existence of a younger brother to himself may have been like a small island, but in his world, he would have been everything.
“Ah ⋯⋯. aa⋯⋯!”
killed a person
I pushed the most precious little brother in the world with this hand.
A word from the author (author review)
Dear Soonaesoonaesoonaesoonae, Thank you for supporting 70 Coins. The thank you message was delayed because I didn’t see any system notifications.
The part where you always look at my work and leave comments is really helping me a lot. Lately, I’ve been busy with personal affairs and the series has been delayed, so I feel really sorry that I couldn’t live up to my expectations.
We will do our best to restore the serialization cycle as soon as possible and provide satisfaction through rapid development.
* As for the serialization cycle, we aim to publish every other day.
This is the last episode registered