Violence Must Disappear!

I came back to the dormitory. Before heading out to my part-time job, I took a rest and checked the two bundles of paper in my hands.

"Magnificent Bride and... Zombie Crush..."

I didn't know the first thing about Zombie Crush, but Magnificent Bride was a film people said had carved a line straight through the future of the movie market.

"I even went all the way to a theater to see it, just because everyone around me told me I had to."

I didn't remember every last beat, but the highlight scenes — and the lines people still quoted as famous dialogue — were still with me.

Flip.

I turned a page of the Magnificent Bride script and checked what was written there. The words Key Point jumped out in red.

The key point laid out the protagonist in careful, thorough detail, and I couldn't help laughing.

"Honestly... this isn't even a gift from Director Kang Wonseong."

It was Writer Kim Eun-joo's enrollment present. I found out later that on the first day she had only watched the filming from behind for a moment before turning around and going straight back to write the script.

I had wanted to get in touch after that, but I had been in the thick of shooting, and the instant it wrapped I had jumped into the VTuber music project. I never did call.

I pulled out my phone to do it now, and dialed.

A woman's voice came through, half-choked with sleep.

"Ah, Writer Kim Eun-joo. This is Jiwoo."

Her voice was so heavy I wondered if I ought to hang up on the spot. But I couldn't not say anything to the writer who had carved out time, bit by bit, to read and analyze a script and even write me a key point like this.

"Writer. Thank you."

I gave a small shake of my head at that.

"That's not what I mean. I'm grateful for that too, of course. But... I received a script from Director Kang Wonseong."

Only then did Writer Kim Eun-joo understand why I had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠called.

The word paying you back hit me with a little lurch in the chest.

Back when I had been a man, no matter how much I worked or how much I delivered, not a single person had ever told me I had done well. Not a single person had said I had worked hard. They had been too busy hoping I would slip, too busy grinding me down.

"Thank you... really. This is... this is such a happy enrollment present. I'll... I'll work even harder."

I hadn't understood what it meant to be given a script. I had only found out on the way back, after I showed it to Kang Ho-yeon.

Handing someone a script meant they recognized your skill enough to come looking for you first — that you didn't have to go sit for a casting, or hunt the role down yourself. And that was even more true of the two scripts I had been given, which weren't even fully ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠written yet.

I was busy holding back tears I hadn't meant to let out when Writer Kim Eun-joo's voice spilled from the phone again.

After I hung up, I used what time I had left to read the script even harder.

And I made up my mind.

This is where I go next.

"J-Jiwoo... this is you, right?"

Before my shift, I met Lee Boram, and I looked at the phone screen she pushed toward me. Right there on the display was Kuro, from yesterday's project, plain as day.

"That's right. Unnie, you made the avatar. How could you mix it up?"

"R-right... that's not what I meant. Were you okay? Other people weren't cursing you out? Especially... that streamer Dongsuk was trash-talking you.... I will never forgive him."

She was the kind of person who usually stammered and tripped over herself — and yet, the moment she started cursing someone out, not a single slip appeared. Watching her spit venom didn't look good, and as long as she didn't do it in front of customers it wouldn't become a real problem. I had let it go the last time ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she had sworn for my sake, too. Still, it was better to correct it now.

"Unnie."

"U-uh? Jiwoo, why? You're making such a scary face..."

"Unnie. I'm grateful that you're cursing people out because you're thinking of me. But if you really are thinking of me, please don't do it in front of other people."

The look on her face just now had been vicious enough that it wouldn't have been strange if she had stabbed someone. I had flinched without meaning to.

With the odd thought that a psychopath role might actually suit her better than it suited me, I smiled and went on.

"You're already a good enough person without going around swearing at people. You don't have to try to look good in front of me."

At first it had been suspicion. After that, I had tried to understand. But one question had kept circling in my head.

Why was she trying so hard to be good to me?

I had found the answer the last time we went to karaoke.

"Unnie... were you bullied, before?"

"....?!"

Lee Boram startled so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hard her pupils started shaking. She looked like I had driven a nail straight into the mark, so I kept going.

"And if you're still being bullied now..."

"Th-that's not it!!"

The sudden volume dropped the café into silence in a heartbeat, and every eye in the place turned to stare at us.

"S-sorry... but it's really not. After I got into college, they stopped contacting me, and... and... I d-don't really meet people anyway."

"Is that so...?"

She hadn't said she had been bullied. She also hadn't said she hadn't. But she still couldn't meet my eyes, and her fingers kept fidgeting the way an anxious person's do.

She's hiding something.

"I'm sorry. I jumped to conclusions."

I dipped my head a little in apology. But I wasn't finished.

"This is how I see it. Whether there was bullying or not — bullying itself is something that has to disappear. And the person who has to find the courage for that isn't the people around you. It's you."

I had been bullied too, back when I was a man, all the way through middle school. I knew exactly how painful and how exhausting that felt.

I want to help her.

"I'll be waiting right beside you, anytime. If you ever feel like talking first... tell me. Whenever you want."

My words must have sounded like I was looking straight through her, because for a moment Lee Boram forgot how to speak.

"Jiwoo... the truth is..."

Lee Boram poured the whole story out to me — six full years of being bullied, all the way through middle school and high school. She couldn't keep her emotions in check as she spoke, and the tears came bursting out.

"It's okay... you're okay."

I patted her back, warm and steady, and listened to every last word.

"Th-thank you... you're the first person who's ever listened to my story."

Honk!

Lee Boram blew her nose hard into the tissue she had been using to wipe her swollen eyes. The space around her was already buried in tissues soaked with tears and snot.

"What about your family? Don't you have anyone else?"

"I-I have an older brother, but... he's too busy to have time to worry about me... so..."

"So you couldn't tell anyone."

I frowned a little. No matter how busy you were, no matter how short on time — if your family was hurting this badly...

"What are you thinking?"

"Nothing..."

No matter how I turned it over, I couldn't make it make sense. I folded my arms, looked at Lee Boram, and said,

"Unnie. Call that older brother of yours."

"...Huh? Th-that's... why?"

"Why do you think? Obviously because there's something I need to say. I'll give him a piece of my mind."

"N-no! That's okay. He's busy in his own way, and... and..."

This wouldn't do. If she kept taking the easy way out like this, people would assume there was no problem and just let it slide.

"It's fine. I'll talk to him myself."

Don't worry. I'm not going to eat him. Now hand over the phone~

I held out my hand and gave my wrist a little tick-tock wiggle.

"A-are you really going to?"

"Then would you rather do it?"

"....Here."

In the end she handed the phone over, and I opened her contacts. There were only three of them, and I flinched in spite of myself.

Me, the boss, and her older brother... that's all of them? Well. I'm not much different.

Aside from family and people related to work, I didn't have any close friends on my phone either. If I had anyone... Unnie Boram was pretty much it.

I called the contact labeled Older Brother.

A man's voice came through the phone, soaked in exhaustion.

"Um... are you Lee Boram's older brother?"

There was a thread of wariness in his voice, and that actually put me at ease.

"Your sister is in danger right now. So... please come help her! The location is...!"

I had only meant to state the essentials and hang up.

A woman's voice leaked faintly through the phone.

Composer?

"Um... the location is..."

I snapped back to myself, gave him nothing but the café's address, and hung up cold.

"J-Jiwoo?! What are you...?"

"Shh. Calm down. If I'm right... he'll call any second."

Lee Boram still had no idea what I meant, and only tilted her head.

Then—

Bzzzz, bzzzzzz.

Lee Boram's phone went off loud. I checked the caller, and sure enough, it was her older brother.

"Here. Unnie, pick up."

"What on earth... h-hello?"

Lee Boram answered with a dubious look on her face. I leaned my ear in close beside hers and listened to the sound leaking through the gap.

Of course. She's the only family he's got, so of course his voice is full of worry.

They had only never known because neither of them had said a word.

That evening, as I was getting ready to go to school the next day, a text arrived.

It was from my homeroom teacher. Well — I hadn't shown up to school in a whole week. Of course she would be worried. Even if the agency had spoken with them, it wasn't as if she had seen my face herself.

And besides...

"That's a familiar name."

Something about the teacher's name felt like I had heard it before.