Chapter 20: Before viewing ⑦

The only sound in the room was the low whirring of the computer’s cooling fan.

All the strength drained from Seoran’s body. Through her blurry vision, a man approached.

A man cradling a bright red newborn like a precious treasure—her father.

This was a memory.

Or perhaps, a deathbed flashback.

“Iran , this child is a miracle.”

Her father spoke flatly, still holding Iran in his arms. His tone was businesslike, as if reciting a report, no different than usual.

But his eyes were bloodshot.

It was the first time.

The first time Seoran had ever seen her father emotionally shaken.

She couldn’t understand his reaction.

‘Why?’

A massive snake of resentment coiled itself around her young heart.

‘She’s the one who killed Mom. Why is she a miracle?’

Her mother had been Seoran’s only family.

Unlike the father who showed up once every few years, her mother had raised her with love.

That one and only family was now gone.

Because of the baby cradled in her father’s arms.

“Don’t blame the child. From now on, she’s the only family you have left.”

It seemed even he didn’t count himself as family anymore.

‘Then I have no family left.’

A sudden burst of rebellion flared up. She resented her father for daring to speak of family.

Not once had he visited while their mother lay sick in bed.

“…I’m sorry.”

Her father gently reached out and stroked Seoran’s hair. That was the end of it.

That day, he left again—irresponsibly as ever. He left the funeral to her aunt.

Seoran simply stared at the newborn baby her father had handed her.

‘The monster that killed Mom.’

Her lips trembled with the weight of grief, and she bit down hard.

As Iran grew, she came to resemble their father more and more. Always blunt. Always emotionless.

It was like she was missing something essential.

‘Creepy.’

A child who’d taken their mother’s life couldn’t be anything but a monster.

‘I miss you, Mom.’

Seoran had been sitting in the yard, basking in the sun.

Thud, thud.

A soccer ball bumped gently against her foot. She stared at it for a moment, then raised her gaze.

A short distance away, Iran stood blankly. She must have mis-kicked the ball while playing alone.

It was always like this—Iran hanging around nearby, hovering in Seoran’s orbit. It would have been nice if she’d just go away and play by herself.

“……”

Sometimes Seoran would snap and scold her, especially when she was feeling irritable.

But not today.

There wasn’t even any point.

It wasn’t just a metaphor—Iran was a monster.

A creature that didn’t understand emotions.

She didn’t cry. She didn’t get sad. She didn’t show joy.

‘Do you know how you were born?’

Iran  had been five.

Seoran had said something like that once.

She’d been in a bad mood that day, and Iran had been trailing after her like a little shadow.

Eventually, everything bottled up inside burst out. Seoran had said terrible things. Words bound to become lifelong trauma.

Normally, a child would cry. Or get scared. Or run away.

Seoran had regretted it almost immediately, but in a way, it felt refreshing.

There was no taking it back anyway. She could just cut ties then and there.

It actually felt like a relief.

But then—

“Sorry.”

Iran had apologized.

As if she understood what she’d done wrong. As if she wanted to atone.

“……”

Was that really the reaction of a five-year-old experiencing their first insult to their personhood?

Back in the present, Iran flinched as their eyes met. Seoran just stared up at the sky.

Soon, a small presence could be felt right beside her.

When Seoran didn’t move, Iran hesitantly picked up the ball.

Then—

“Um…”

A voice so soft you’d miss it if you weren’t paying close attention.

Seoran frowned and looked at her.

“Never mind…”

Again, she couldn’t tell what this child was thinking.

Seoran tried to let it slide, but a sudden surge of irritation rose in her chest.

“Why do you keep bothering me?”

“…”

“I asked why you’re always hanging around me. There are plenty of other places you could go.”

“…Sorry.”

Iran lowered her eyes.

Another meaningless apology.

Just like when she was five.

A child born at the cost of their mother’s life—how could she not be monstrous?

Stress clawed at Seoran’s brain.

Fine. She’s a monster anyway. No need to care about her feelings.

“You know I really hate you, right?”

“…”

Still, she stayed silent, like a guilty criminal.

The snake that had long coiled in Seoran’s chest raised its head.

“You remember why Mom died, don’t you?”

“…Sorry.”

“The one you killed was my only family.”

…Sorry.

Keep pressing and she shrinks like a wilted flower.

It’s an act. She knows Seoran softens when she acts like this—calculated behavior.

“I know it’s not your fault. But even so, I just can’t bear to look at your face. So please, don’t show up in front of me. I’m begging you. Got it?”

“…Okay.”

After that, Iran disappeared from Seoran’s sight.

‘Should’ve done that ages ago.’

And yet, her last dejected look lingered in Seoran’s mind. She knew it was just an act, but it pricked her conscience like a thorn.

Because for a moment, Iran had looked like a genuinely hurt little girl.

Feeling a tightness in her chest, Seoran went to find her aunt that night. She spilled everything.

Iran’s oddness. Her strange behavior.

Her aunt listened quietly, then gave a bitter smile.

“Iran isn’t a monster.”

“…I know. Still, wouldn’t it be good to at least try some psychological counseling? I can’t tell what she’s thinking—or even if she’s thinking anything at all.”

“Maybe she hangs around you because she has something she wants to say?”

“Then why doesn’t she just talk to me?”

Her aunt lightly pressed a finger to Seoran’s forehead.

“With that face, how could she?”

Seoran reflexively glanced at the mirror.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s be honest. You look at her like she’s some kind of bug.”

“What? It’s not that bad…”

“Your expression says it all. …You really hate her, don’t you?”

Seoran nodded immediately.

“Still… just once. Even just for a few seconds. Try letting go of your resentment when you look at her.”

It sounded like strange advice.

But Seoran decided to try it.

She wanted to prove it.

That Iran was the strange one.

That the thing who killed her mom was just a monster wearing a human mask.

Without delay, Seoran went to Iran’s room.

Iran’s eyes went wide as she looked up from her desk.

‘Let go of the resentment…’

Iran had some facial features that resembled their mother. Annoying as it was, Seoran decided to pretend—just for a moment—that she was Mom.

“Are you studying?”

As the gentle voice left her throat, Iran’s eyes went round as saucers.

Nod, nod, nod.

She bobbed her head at lightning speed.

“Do you need help with anything?”

Iran hesitated briefly, then started nodding like crazy again.

‘Let go of the resentment. Let it go.’

Seoran steadied herself and stepped closer.

But as soon as she looked at the workbook Iran had open, her face froze in disbelief.

“Calculus…?”

Even Seoran didn’t know this material.

More importantly—was this really something a second grader should be doing?

Definitely not normal…

“I was just… just looking!”

“…?!”

It was the first time Iran had ever raised her voice like that.

Seoran stared at her in stunned silence.

In a panic, Iran slammed her book shut and grabbed an elementary-level math textbook from the shelf.

“This. I don’t get this part.”

“…Uh, okay.”

As Seoran patiently explained the basics of arithmetic, she couldn’t help but feel Iran seemed oddly excited.

[Iran isn’t a monster.]

She shook her head, trying to push the thought away.

[I’m not wrong.]

A kind of stubborn pride.

Even while teaching, Seoran kept a close eye on Iran’s every move.

She was determined to find a flaw—anything to prove herself right.

“I get it now!”

Iran kicked her legs in excitement, her eyes sparkling more than Seoran had ever seen.

‘What the… Why does she look… normal?’

Just like any other little girl.

Seoran bit the inside of her lip.

“Um…”

There it was again. That line.

Seoran turned her head sharply and glared. Iran flinched.

Her ruby-red eyes trembled like something wounded.

[Maybe try softening your expression a little.]

Seoran glanced at the mirror in the corner of the room.

[You look at her like she’s a bug.]

Was this really the expression she’d been wearing?

‘…’

A sting of guilt brushed her chest.

Her expression slowly softened.

[She’s Mom. Just think of her as Mom…]

When she turned back, Iran was staring at her wide-eyed.

“You can tell me. What is it?”

What had this emotionless child always wanted to say?

“Will you… c-could you play with me…?”

Totally unexpected.

Seoran’s face hardened again.

“…!”

Iran began trembling. As if begging Seoran to forget what she just said, she shook her head frantically.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I mean, that’s not what I…”

She squirmed like she’d just committed a grave sin.

It looked… pitiful, somehow.

A veil that had clouded Seoran’s vision seemed to lift.

And the monster changed shape.

Just a child.

A little girl who only wanted to play with her big sister.

The face she’d thought showed no emotion—was just stiff from nerves.

“S-So what I meant was…”

Iran stammered, on the verge of tears.

‘…’

A sharp pang hit Seoran’s chest.

‘What if I’ve been completely wrong this whole time…?’

What if this girl in front of her was just a nine-year-old kid?

Just a normal child, a little awkward with her emotions?

-Why do you keep bothering me?

-You monster.

-I hate you.

-You need to be in a psych ward…

If she was someone capable of being hurt by those words…

‘What the hell have I done?’

One by one, the arrows kept multiplying.

Guilt.

That was the name of each arrow.

With trembling hands, Seoran embraced Iran .

Iran’s shoulders stiffened.

Only then did Seoran become certain.

No—maybe she had known all along, and simply turned away from it.

“I’m sorry…”

A belated apology. Far, far too late.

Seoran held her five-year-old sister tight and wept.

Iran’s lips moved silently like a goldfish. After a long pause, the girl finally asked in a choked voice,

“Why… are you apologizing?”

“…”

“I killed Mom… I’m a monster…”

“No, you’re not. That’s…”

This child had simply been born.

Why had she never seen that?

No—why had she refused to accept it?

In Seoran’s arms, Iran clung tightly to her, her tiny hands gripping as if she would never let go. She was surprisingly strong.

“Can I…”

“…?”

Iran’s voice trembled violently.

“Am I… your family too?”

Family.

Seoran’s only family had been their mother. When her one and only family died, she had nowhere to place her grief but on Iran .

Then who had Iran’s family been?

“…”

Her mother had died the moment she was born. Her father had disappeared. And her only sister had been hostile her whole life.

This child had grown up without a family.

She had endured, alone, for nine years.

How…

How unbearably tragic that was.

“…”

Iran waited anxiously for an answer.

Seoran gave her the one she needed.

“When it gets hard, call your sister.”

Whether she had the right to say it or not—she didn’t know.

And yet.

Because of that, Seoran gave her vow with all her strength.

“No matter where you are, I’ll come find you.”

“…Okay.”

[That child is a miracle.]

Now, she finally understood her father’s words.

She still had family left in this world.

Seoran made a promise to herself.

No matter what, she would protect this child.

Because she was her only remaining sister.

[I’m coming to find you…]

Her breath grew faint as the rope tightened around her neck.

Just as the agony reached its peak—

Slash!

The noose snapped.

Coughing and choking, Seoran looked up with lifeless eyes.

“…”

Kim Dohyeon stood there, as if he had just witnessed the most horrifying thing in the world.

He dropped his sword and rushed to hug Seoran tightly.

As if checking to see if there was still warmth in her skin, he held her close.

“…Khk.”

When he felt her heartbeat, Dohyeon finally broke down and cried in silence.

“…Dohyeon.”

Limp in his arms, Seoran gazed up at the dim ceiling.

“Iran … she was such a strange kid.”

“…”

“How could she have grown up so right under such a cruel sister like me?”

“…”

Seoran lowered her head.

“How lonely must that good kid have been… all alone in that place?”

Why was the world always so cruel to her?

“Dohyeon, I…”

Seoran’s body slumped.

“I can’t be a Hero.”

I can’t do anything anymore.

At last, Gwangmyeong Reminis broke.

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Ep. 4: The Evaluation Match (End)