Chapter 64: Ida Som

“Unni.”

Late at night, as Lee Dasom came out to the living room for a drink of water, a voice called out to her.

A small boy, barely reaching her shoulders, with soft, delicate eyelashes.

It was Lee Dasom’s younger brother, Lee Dajun.

“Mmm, Dajun. What is it?”

Lee Dajun silently handed Lee Dasom the sketchbook he was holding.

“You drew again?”

Lee Dasom smiled at her brother, who nodded like a squirrel, and opened the sketchbook.

Inside the sketchbook was a drawing of an outfit.

A layered dress with a blouse and a flare skirt. The lace collar and the ribbon on it felt a little overwhelming, but it was good enough to be sold immediately.

If he was already at this level at 14, how amazing would his creations be in the future? Perhaps then, she would have to see them at a fashion show, not in a sketchbook.

“You drew it well. It’s pretty.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s much prettier than the clothes they sell at department stores.”

At those words, a few flowers bloomed on Lee Dajun’s face. He seemed very happy to be praised.

Lee Dajun, who had been grinning while hugging the sketchbook for a moment, soon looked up at Lee Dasom and spoke.

“But I don’t know what it would look like if someone actually wore it. The lace and ribbons look fine in the drawing, but I think they might feel a little unnatural to the wearer… So, if you’re okay with it, unni…”

“You want me to be your model?”

“Yeah.”

In fact, there was nothing grand about being a model. All she had to do was sit in a chair and watch her brother sketch her as a model.

The only thing that bothered her was that her swollen, tomato-like cheeks seemed to ruin her brother’s beautiful clothes.
Of course, it wasn’t a serious enough problem to refuse her brother’s request.

“Dajun.”

Lee Dasom reached out and gently stroked Lee Dajun’s head.
Her brother, who had subtly pulled his head back as if to say, ‘Don’t do that, it’s embarrassing,’ soon stood still like a hamster, waiting for her next words.

Really, every single one of his actions was adorable. It was hard to believe that this cute child would grow up to be like their father.

“Unni is a little tired today.”

However, apart from those feelings, she was tired today.

“Midterms start tomorrow…”

She was physically exhausted from repeated studying, and mentally exhausted from a days-long silent treatment with a friend she had argued with.

“So I think I should go to bed early today… Can we postpone the modeling?”

Lee Dajun shook his head at his sister, who was speaking in a soothing, apologetic tone, and opened his mouth.

“Mmm, it’s okay. It’s not that urgent.”

“Dajun, I’m so sorry. I’ll definitely do it next time, so just wait a little longer.”

Lee Dasom, feeling proud of her brother’s ocean-like understanding, knelt down and met his jewel-like eyes.

“Sweet dreams.”

She stroked her brother’s soft hair one more time and then headed to her room.

And the next day, Lee Dajun passed away.

****

Everything was the same as usual. The exam questions were difficult as always, the curry for lunch was delicious, and the friend who hadn’t apologized for her mistake was as annoying as ever.

No, the word “annoying” is canceled. Because she had just tearfully apologized.

Seeing her cry, saying she had wanted to apologize all along but was scared of her anger, made her feel pitiful, and she was also angry at herself for being so prideful and making her friend anxious.

Whatever the case, it was a good day. Until the homeroom teacher called her out of the classroom, that’s what she thought.

Up close, a bead of sweat the size of a fingernail was on the homeroom teacher’s nose. After a moment of hesitation, he wrote an address on a memo and handed it to Lee Dasom.

Even when she asked what was wrong, he just said she had to go right away and didn’t give any other explanation. More precisely, it seemed like he didn’t want to say it.

Leaving the school, she hailed a taxi and headed to the address on the memo. And soon, a hospital building rose up in the distance.

But even as she entered the hospital, Lee Dasom didn’t show any particular emotional turmoil.

Something bad had definitely happened. It was also true that she felt a slight sense of urgency. But somehow, the crisis didn’t feel like her own.

Because, everything was the same as usual. There hadn’t even been the slightest premonition that usually accompanies a crisis.

Suddenly, the image of her maternal grandfather from a few months ago came to her mind. He was lying in bed like a plant, his roots spread, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Surely, the heavens, pitying his appearance, had granted him rest.

It was sad, but not that sad. She had never spoken to him, and he didn’t seem to be on good terms with the family, as she had never heard a single good story about him from her father.

Even if such a person died, she only felt a faint sense of loss, and it didn’t really hit her heart.

Following the staff’s guidance, she entered a place where a red lamp was flashing.

And in front of it, her parents were collapsed, sobbing.

Something was wrong. And it was very serious.

She didn’t remember much after that. Without even having time to properly organize her thoughts, she had to greet relatives she only saw on holidays, wearing black clothes. She had to watch grown adults bow their heads in front of a picture of a boy much younger than them. She had to put a large wooden box into a long car.

The car, which departed a moment later, circled her house once and then a nearby park once. A park where they sometimes went for family outings.

The last place they arrived at was a strange building with many empty rooms. As soon as they entered, people suddenly started saying their goodbyes to the wooden box. Her father wailed.

Lee Dasom didn’t cry. She didn’t say goodbye either. She didn’t know why, but she felt like she shouldn’t let it out.

But contrary to her wish, the wooden box slowly moved away from her sight.

A moment later, she heard someone calling her father. But her father just sat there blankly, staring into space.
A moment later, she heard someone calling her mother. But her mother just sat collapsed, sobbing.

Finally, a few relatives helped her parents out. And a little later, they appeared, holding a white urn. An urn with an unsettling atmosphere, with her brother’s name on it.

They got back into the car. In the car, which climbed a narrow mountain road for a long time, Lee Dasom felt a slight nausea.

The people who got out of the car carefully carried the urn. And they placed that urn, the urn with the three-syllable name of Lee Dajun, into a box in the ground.

That was the end. Just that.

****

The investigation began immediately, without a moment’s rest, and soon, a letter was found in her brother’s locker.

He had been bullied.

Her brother was a child full of talent. Despite being younger than her, he had participated in numerous competitions and had never missed an award.

That was the problem.

It started with a remark the principal made during the morning assembly. For some reason, he seemed to dislike the disorderly crowd of students in the playground that day.

So he brought up her brother’s name. He listed her brother’s talents and achievements and urged the other students to be more like him.

And as if that weren’t enough, he displayed her brother’s works on the school bulletin board.

To praise the achievements of Lee Dajun, a student who was sweeping the national competitions despite being only a freshman.
And to steal his credit and make it the credit of the entire school.

Every student in the school saw her brother’s work. Everyone looked inside her brother’s head.

Among them, there were those who thought it was disgusting that he, a male, designed women’s clothes. There were those who were jealous of his outstanding talent. There were those who disliked him simply because others did.

And her brother died. By jumping from the veranda.

Her brother’s phone’s text message box was filled with all sorts of humiliating words.
There was no physical violence, but testimonies began to emerge one by one that bullying had occurred, centered around a specific group.

Lee Dasom saw her father, who had lived a simple life, angry for the first time.

He used all the means he could mobilize as a local influential figure to identify those involved in her brother’s death and destroyed them using the most cruel methods possible.

Perhaps if he had set aside his petty hypocrisy and used that power sooner, his brother might not have died.

The person who knew that fact best was himself. That’s why he was so angry. Lee Dasom could vaguely understand.

But still, her brother was dead.
He was said to be dead.

Everything was so sudden that it didn’t feel real. It was more like watching a movie on a screen.

That’s why she couldn’t believe that her brother was dead. She couldn’t accept it.

Dead? The only death she knew was getting shot or stabbed, bleeding profusely, uttering a few cool lines, and then closing your eyes.

But why her brother? He was ordinary. He couldn’t shoot a gun or handle a knife. There were no strange signs whatsoever.

He drew pictures as usual and showed them to her, and she stroked his hair in return. His soft, black hair, as always.

It’s a misunderstanding. Everyone is making a terrible misunderstanding. Her brother wasn’t dead. He must have just gone away for a while to participate in a competition in the countryside.

There was no need to think about why he wasn’t contacting them.
If he said he was skipping school to attend, his parents would obviously be angry. And a child with a similar build to her brother must have fallen from an apartment.

That’s right, in a little while, her brother will definitely open that door. He’ll come running with his sketchbook as usual, his squirrel-like eyes twinkling.

But no matter how much time passed, the door didn’t open.

Her brother’s room, which had been lit up late into the night, was now pitch black. The songs of an unknown foreign singer that sometimes flowed from the room were no longer heard.

That was what death was.

The moment she vaguely acknowledged that fact, Lee Dasom, as if possessed, entered her brother’s room.

Her brother wasn’t dead. He must have hidden a hint somewhere. He was a child who liked such pranks.

She soon started turning her brother’s room upside down. She separated each desk drawer and examined it, and pulled out the bed mattress and searched it thoroughly.
But nothing came out. No, no. That’s impossible.

Now Lee Dasom was rampaging, on the verge of breaking the room. Come out, come out, quickly. And finally, she heard something fall from behind the bookshelf.

Lee Dasom, who had moved the bookshelf, held her breath and carefully pulled out the object behind it.

It was a single piece of paper. On the delicate lines, like the ones she had seen before, beautiful colors of paint were applied.

The picture depicted a certain woman. Droopy eyes that were unpleasant to look at, chubby cheeks like a tomato, and finally, that detestable smile. Ah, she knew this woman.

Come to think of it, she had heard something like that. What kind of gift she wanted for her birthday. So she had jokingly asked for a portrait. To submit for her art assignment.

It was just a lighthearted joke. She didn’t mean it. She had no intention of bothering her brother while he was busy with his own work.

But her brother drew it. He listened to her words carefully, and took them seriously, without brushing anything aside.

On the other hand, what about herself?

“Ah…”

That day, when her brother last reached out his hand, was she really tired? Can she confidently declare, with her hand on her heart, that she was very tired from studying for an exam she hadn’t even started?

Did she really not know that the modeling was just an excuse to create a place to talk with her?

Can she say she didn’t get tired of hearing the same repertoire every day? Can she say she wasn’t dissatisfied that her brother, who had friends, only consulted with her? Didn’t she think that hanging out with her friends was more fun than with her brother? Did she really never think it was embarrassing to play with her brother, who was already in his second year of middle school?

To her brother, who had numerous talents and monopolized their parents’ attention, unlike her.
Can she really say that she didn’t feel a single speck of jealousy?

“…”

Suddenly, she remembered the text message box she had seen on her brother’s phone a few days ago.

More precisely, the single text message she saw there, which asserted that her sister would also find her drawings disgusting.

She felt like her whole body was sinking. She had no strength to stand, as if all her blood and organs had drained out.
The beautiful drawing in her hand was being ruined by a droplet of water from somewhere.

The CCTV footage she had seen the day before came to her mind. In the video, her brother hadn’t gotten off the elevator and had been standing there for a long time.

Then, he finally opened the door and stepped out. With hesitant steps, as if asking someone to stop him, clutching the sketchbook in his hand.

“Ugh…”

For months, she had been putting off her brother’s modeling proposal, citing reasons like being lazy, it being a hassle, being annoyed, and being tired.

“Ugh, uwaa…”

Looking down at him with an arrogant gaze, she was busy passing off the things she should have done to someone who didn’t exist.

To her, her brother might have been a small island, but in her brother’s world, she must have been everything.

“Aaaah… Aaaaaaaah…!”

I killed a person.

I pushed away my most precious brother with my own hands.