Childhood Friend, Step-Sister

Our house didn't have many rooms.

Mother's main room. The bathroom and my room—that was the whole of it. Well, bathrooms don't really count as rooms, so just two. Which meant Seorin and I would have to share.

To me, that was nothing. I was a guy, and honestly, sharing a room with her wouldn't bother me at all. But was Seorin okay with it? Should I move out to the living room right now?

"You look so serious."

Seorin said it while gently cupping my cheek. I flinched and edged back a little.

"No, I was just thinking…"

"Thinking?"

"Yeah. Stuff."

My head was already starting to ache. What the hell was even happening? Overnight, a classmate becomes family… Even the wildest dream couldn't top this.

"Are you really okay being adopted into our house?"

There were plenty of better places for an adoption. Honestly, an orphanage would be a huge step up. Our place was damp and moldy, and above all, cramped. Mother's care or cooking? Forget it—that wasn't our house.

"Yeah. It has to be our house. Nowhere else."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"…If you're that set on it, I'm not going to argue."

"Do you hate the idea of me becoming your little sister?"

"No. I like it. No reason not to. It's just—"

"Just?"

"…I'm worried about you."

"…"

Seorin—no, my little sister—leaned her shoulder against mine. In the cold house, warmth passed through that contact.

"Then it's fine. I like it here."

A flickering lightbulb. A mattress scavenged off the neighborhood street. I'd cleaned it up so it looked almost new, but you couldn't erase the wear. And she was saying even a place like this was okay. That from now on, I'd be living here with Seorin. If this was a dream, I didn't want to wake up.

"More importantly—what was that 'nice to meet you' about? We're not strangers."

"Well, meeting you as my little sister was a first, right? That's why I said it."

"Not wrong, exactly…"

Her oddly convincing logic made me look away as I spoke.

"Are you okay calling me Oppa?"

"Yeah. I actually like it. Do you hate it, Gyeol?"

"…It's not easy to get used to."

Body heat seeped through the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shoulder she leaned on. Between the fingers she'd left dangling on the floor, our hands laced together. She smelled good. Lavender…

"Oppa."

"…!"

I'd been zoning out, and the word snapped my spine straight. I glared at her with a body gone stiff. What kind of joke was this now?

"Hehehe. Your reaction is seriously hilarious."

She covered her lips with her palm and laughed. Through her fingers I could see those springy strawberry-colored lips. I wondered if they'd taste tart and sweet at the same time.

No. What am I even thinking?

I shook my head hard a few times, trying to fling the stray thoughts away. It didn't help at all. Shaking your head like you were swatting gnats doesn't make them leave—and desire clung back even more stubbornly than any bug. I reined the craving in so I wouldn't fall for its buzzing.

"You really…"

I scrubbed my face dry and spoke to her.

"You've changed."

After the funeral, her personality had shifted. The way she acted, little things. Hard to pin down because they were so small. But one thing was certain: she had changed.

"Have I?"

"…"

"Something important showed up, maybe?"

"That again."

I opened my mouth to ask what that important thing was. But her gaze locked onto me, thick and heavy, and I couldn't make a sound. It felt like something was crushing my lower back.

"Secret."

"…Fine."

"You don't feel like asking?"

"I've decided to accept it."

We moved.

Whether Mother had hit the lottery or what, the place she picked was a pretty nice modern apartment. I could have wondered where the windfall came from, but honestly I wasn't that curious. I snuck a look at Seorin's face. Her fresh, bright smile filled my eyes.

"…"

It wasn't completely impossible to guess. And we didn't even need to haul much. We barely had anything to move, and someone else handled even that. Watching it all, I let out a sigh.

"What's wrong?"

"Too much has been changing lately. My whole life."

"We're still just middle schoolers, you know?"

"It's a figure of speech."

"True. A lot's changed since we met."

Ever since meeting her, my life had been transforming in big ways. Clearly for the better—yet it felt like I'd taken my hands off the wheel. Everything was resolving smoothly, but a nameless unease lingered.

…Time passed.

A month, then about two. Our lives settled into something stable. Seorin and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I became good siblings. No fights, no sulking, nothing like that. Makes sense, I guess. We'd been close even before we were siblings, so it wasn't strange.

The problem was that I started seeing her—my little sister—as a girl more and more often. It had always been there, but the frequency climbed. Whenever it happened I hypnotized myself that it was just puberty and swallowed the feeling down. Mostly after she came out of the bath in nothing but a robe. Or when she glued herself to my side on the big sofa. Or every time she took my hand and I felt the warm breath against my shoulder.

Doubt crept in about our sibling bond, and more than once I pushed her away. Every time, my little sister would say:

"Why are you trying to put distance between family?"

"…Don't you think this is too close?"

"Siblings are supposed to be like this. A friend told me… 'close siblings' are all like this."

"That's ridiculous—"

"I don't think it's weird either—"

Her red eyes looked strangely cloudy.

"Seorin, this is… weird."

"Am I the weird one?"

"We're middle schoolers now, so… this kind of thing—"

"Why? Is holding hands weird? Does it feel weird?"

"…Han Seorin."

I bit my lip lightly and stopped talking. I wanted to grant her requests whenever I could. But as we grew, that was getting harder.

"Oppa, do you hate me that much?"

"…"

"Don't hate me…. Okay?"

I didn't hate my little sister Seorin. It was the opposite. And that was exactly the problem. Because I had feelings, I tried even harder to pull away; family needed that kind of distance. We were siblings. We had to keep that line.

If I ever crossed it and saw Seorin look at me with disgust…

The tension drained from my arms and they went limp.

"How could I ever hate you?"

My only friend, and my family. Mother was family too, but that was blood alone. I wanted to protect this relationship. And I still wanted to protect her. She was the only one I had left.

"Really?"

She closed in with a soft rush. Her sweet scent made my gaze skitter sideways. Moments like this always left me flustered. I tried to put space between us my own way, only for her to close it again. All my effort felt wasted.

She's… gotten really tall.

I looked up at her. The old saying that girls grow faster than boys when they're young seemed true. Staring at the girl taller than me, I hung my head.

Me, protecting her? Not even funny.

I mocked myself inwardly and took her hand. At my usual response, her lips curved into a soft arc.

"As if it'd be fake."

I grabbed the TV remote and flipped channels. It landed on a documentary showing a butterfly caught in a spiderweb. The hand I held was so soft.

After the move, our old school was too far, so we transferred. Of course, another two months or so had already slipped by. The new school was a better environment than before. Most classmates were kind, and almost no one badmouthed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠us. The fact that I still hadn't made friends among such good kids was purely my own lack of social skills.

"…"

Two months in, I still had no one I could call a friend. The few who occasionally spoke to me would suddenly cut things off at some point. It felt like someone was blocking me from making friends. In contrast, my little sister made plenty. She was the brightest kid around, with no rough edges to her personality, so it was only natural. The girls in our class asked what cosmetics she used, which idols she liked.

"Ah, I don't really use makeup or anything."

"That's just basic skincare…?"

"She really has everything. Life is so unfair."

They giggled and chattered in the center of the classroom. I pretended to sleep face-down and listened. …No friends meant I didn't have much choice.

"Ah, I don't really know idols."

"For real? No bias or anything?"

"…Maybe I do have a bias."

"Who, who?"

"My Oppa."

My body stiffened for a second at those words.

"Just kidding."

She continued the conversation like nothing had happened.

A tiny minority hated her, though.

"That bitch is seriously fucking annoying."

"Right? Acts like she's something special."

I would have taken trash talk about myself without blinking. I'd heard plenty of insults since I was little—call it full immunity. The problem was when they insulted my little sister… Han Seorin.

"For real. That man-crazy slut."

"Can't stand looking at that whore."

People who kept spreading weird rumors around school. I threw fists at them. Their jaws spun satisfyingly.

"The one who can't stand looking is you, idiot."

Maybe they knew they had it coming; they didn't report me. They just came back with fists of their own. Several of them piled on, but I was confident when it came to swinging. I won the fight, but fights leave marks. I walked away covered in wounds.

"So stupid."

The nurse's office reeked of medicine. I muttered alone there. Reduced to bandages because someone hit me—not even funny. I lay on the soft, plush nurse's mattress and stared at the ceiling.

What's the point of any of this?

No one noticed. But Seorin was the most precious person to me. Insulting her was something I simply couldn't tolerate. Even if I got hurt…

— swish

The gently swaying curtain was drawn aside. A gaze looked down at me lying on the mattress. Han Seorin.

"How'd you get hurt?"

"Just… I fell."

Telling the truth felt too dumb, so I turned my head. Like a guilty man.

"…Right. You fell."

"I was walking down the stairs and stepped wrong—"

"Do you think that makes any sense?"

"…"

Her voice trembled as she said it. I sighed and looked at her. Seorin clutched my hand tight, nuzzled her face against it, and cried. She cried like a child whose most precious thing had been broken.

"Please…. Don't do that. Don't get hurt, Oppa."

"But."

"I'd rather take a hundred times more insults than see you hurt. It hurts my heart so much more…"

"…I'm sorry."

"You're not the one who should be sorry. You were… looking out for me."

She let go of my hand and pulled a bandage from her pocket. She spread cool ointment on the wounds and stuck on the sticky bandages. Slap—the cute character printed on them made me laugh without meaning to.

"Seorin."

"…Yeah."

"Thanks."

Yeah. She was a good little sister. Then I had to stay a good Oppa too. I would never get swept up in strange feelings.

I was the weird one all along.

Her eyes were purely worried for me. I wasn't so stupid I couldn't read that look from my little sister.

"Thanks for worrying."

"…As long as you know."

I pulled her into my arms. The girl in my embrace burst into tears. The bandages felt stickier than usual today. I would live for my "little sister."

The next morning.

I awakened.

Together with my little sister.

But the ability was a little strange.

No—a lot strange.