Feelings

"Are you going to stop, Brother...?"

Aria's sweet voice felt as though it were gently melting my brain.

If I didn't stop here, I would cross the line.

But what was wrong with that?

Aria loves me.

I was certain that if I ever ended up with someone, it would be Aria, first and foremost.

Then wouldn't it be fine?

Even if I crossed this line.

I wrapped my arms around Aria's waist.

Gradually our bodies, our skin, pressed together.

Now if I just reached my hands to her neck and waist and untied that thin string—

At that instant, a scene flashed through my mind like a panorama.

'You weren't the one I was supposed to marry.'

My father's voice, low and cracked as if exhausted.

At those words, tears welled in my mother's eyes.

'Even though we have Si-hyeon and Seo-yeon, you can say something like that. You, who fooled around with another woman.'

Anger, sorrow, shock, resignation.

All of it was mixed in my mother's voice.

'Fine, then let's divorce. I can't live with you anymore either.'

At my mother's words, my father just nodded slightly.

Every ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠day, shouting echoed through the house.

The fighting went on until I was sick to death of it.

Thinking back now, it was almost impressive they never laid hands on each other.

And every night, my mother held me and cried.

I hated it so much.

The crying of little Seo-yeon, who couldn't even read Hangul properly yet.

After taking care of Seo-yeon, I always slipped out of the house as if fleeing.

I sat blankly on a swing at a nearby park, killing time, and when night came I had no choice but to go back.

Even though I hated going home, innocent little Seo-yeon was there.

Someone had to take care of that child.

And after taking care of Seo-yeon, my mother would hold me again and cry, saying she was sorry, day after day.

If she was sorry, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠she could just not do it.

I swallowed the words rising to the back of my throat.

"Ah."

My hands were trembling.

The childhood memories still seared into my mind, the trauma, grabbed my ankle and spoke.

That love could never be eternal.

Did I want to end up like my father?

It had been like this then too.

My first year of college.

There were always women hovering around me.

But I was afraid of dating, of the marriage that came after, so I always refused.

That same pattern continued into college.

There was a senior who said she liked me.

I sneered inwardly.

I wanted to coldly snap at her—what did she know about me, wasn't she just attracted to my looks anyway.

But I couldn't be rude to a senior, so I politely declined.

That kind of thing repeated several times.

There had been plenty of other women too, but that senior was especially persistent. The obsession that started at the freshman welcome party lasted until the autumn leaves fell.

Then one day, the senior gave up.

I told her there were plenty of better men than me, that someone like her could find a far better man, and as I tried to leave, she asked me to have one last drink with her.

She said she wanted to forget everything with alcohol, and I stupidly accepted.

As if drinking to die, alcohol poured in endlessly and numbed my brain. Both of us completely drunk, we talked and poured whiskey into our stomachs like we were dumping it.

I drank until I was about to throw up, and then I blacked out.

When I came to, I was in a motel.

The senior was naked, straddling me.

She ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smiled and asked if I was awake, then slowly began unbuttoning my ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shirt.

At that point my mind couldn't catch up with what was happening. Dizzy with a hangover, I lay there in a daze as her hands moved over me.

The senior stripped my shirt off completely and threw it on the floor, then reached for the button of my pants.

The button came undone, the zipper went down.

Whether she found it strange that I had no physical reaction even in this situation, or whether she felt miserable herself, the senior made an odd expression and reached toward my lower body, whispering.

That once we did it, things would get better. That these days plenty of men and women started dating after sleeping together.

That was when the childhood trauma surfaced again.

The surging disgust mixed with the hangover and rose up.

I vomited while lying down, so violently I thought my airway might block and kill me.

Only then did the senior startle and let go of me.

I ran to the bathroom on the spot, washed off the vomit, and came out clutching my head, which felt like it was splitting from the headache.

Thinking back now, whatever ulterior motives she may have had, she was a decent senior in her own way.

The blanket was a mess, and vomit had splattered on her naked body too, but she didn't show it and only worried about me.

But I grabbed my shirt from where it was strewn on the floor and fled that motel as if running away.

And right before the semester ended, as soon as I received my enlistment date and draft notice, I immediately applied for a leave of absence.

I never saw that senior's face again.

She must have graduated. Since I took two years off.

Why was that memory surfacing now?

Aria was completely different from that senior, who hadn't stirred my feelings in the slightest even at the end.

I was even certain that if I loved someone, that person would definitely be Aria.

And yet, when I actually tried to cross the line, my body stopped.

Even though this time I was the one on top of Aria, trying to cross the line by my own will.

The trauma carved into a five-year-old boy hadn't been erased even after he became an adult.

I felt nauseated. At myself, for being this weak.

"I'm sorry, Brother."

Aria's voice brought me back to my senses.

Aria was apologizing.

"No, you don't need to apologize—"

You don't.

Being drawn to Aria, crossing the line—that was all me.

If I intended to shift the blame onto Aria for seducing me, I could have done the same with that senior.

I didn't want to do that.

This was my problem to overcome, and my decision to make.

But Aria shook her head.

"I was too greedy. Even though I knew what was in your heart when you kept postponing your answer, I put my own greed first."

No.

Aria couldn't possibly know what was really in my heart.

The reason I had told Aria was only the most superficial one.

Even so, Aria pulled me into her arms.

"I want you to be happier than anyone else, Brother. And I want to be happy together with you."

When I was held in Aria's small, slender arms, strangely, the trembling in my hands stopped.

The heartbeat I could hear through my ears, the warm heat I felt where our bare skin touched—they reassured me.

I had hated my mother holding me and sobbing.

I stayed still because I thought at least I should be on my mother's side, but even so, it was a burden far too heavy for a five-year-old to carry.

After that, I had never felt the warmth of another person.

Not until I met Linnea and Aria.

Linnea loved me, a child who wasn't even her own, as if she were my real mother.

That fact alone had made me happy enough.

That was why, when Linnea hesitated over Aria studying abroad because of me, I was the one who could push her to go.

And now, once again, I was being loved.

"I'm already happy enough."

"Then you can become even happier. Because there's no end to happiness, or to love."

I had thought love wasn't eternal.

But Aria said there was no end to happiness and love.

"I might end up a worthless man."

"Then I'll take care of you for the rest of my life."

"I might not earn any money and just live off what you earn forever."

"Then we could spend all day together. Besides, I earned that money for you, Brother. You can spend as much of it as you want."

"Even if I used that money to fool around with other women and gamble?"

"If that made you happy, I'd be fine with it. Would that kind of life make you happy, Brother?"

There was no way it would make me happy.

If that kind of life made me happy, I would have lived that way long ago.

"It wouldn't."

"Then what are you afraid of, Brother?"

Aria said I was afraid.

Only then did I realize.

What I was afraid of.

"That I might end up following the same path as my father. That I might hurt the people I love. That the people I love might leave me because of it. That's what I'm afraid of."

"Brother."

At the sound of Aria calling me, I raised my head and looked up at her.

Our lips met just like that.

The warm sensation, our breaths, passed between us.

Slowly our lips parted.

After an instant that felt like eternity ended, Aria opened her mouth.

"I promise I will never, ever leave your side. This is proof of that promise. So you have to be prepared, okay?"

"For what?"

"Even if you come to hate me, I'll stick to your side like gum for the rest of my life and never fall off."

At those words, the tension drained from my body and a laugh slipped out.

"That's the most useless worry in the world. There's no way I could ever hate you, Aria. You're the most beautiful, cute, and lovable little sister in the world, and you're mine."

Once the tension eased, even embarrassing words came out casually, like a joke.

Aria blushed at my words, giggled, and whispered.

"I'll say the same right back to you. There's no way I could ever hate you either, Brother. You're the coolest and kindest person in the world—my very own brother."

Was this how Aria felt?

Hearing it actually said was deeply embarrassing.

And more than that, I realized I had said something foolish.

If there was no way I could ever hate Aria no matter what, then surely the same could be true of her.

"You're right. Sorry. That was a stupid thing to say."

This time I pulled Aria into my arms and kissed her first.

As if confirming each other's love, soft kisses continued.

Slowly our lips parted, and a silver thread stretched out before breaking.

"Then I'll promise too. That I'll never hate you, Aria, and never leave your side."

At those words, tears welled in Aria's eyes.

With a happy smile, Aria said.

"Then we'll be together forever."

"If you don't want that, say so now. Otherwise, even if you beg me to get off, I'll stay stuck to you."

"You're so mean, Brother. There's no way I—no way I could hate it. You know that better than anyone."

Kisses continued once more.

Kisses without even mixing tongues, just feeling each other's warmth.

But for now, that was enough.

"Once everything that needs to be resolved is finished, let's do what comes next. Can you wait until then? I'll definitely get everything sorted out before I graduate."

"Yes. I'll be waiting."

I said that, but I had no intention of making her wait until graduation. Because I couldn't hold back either.

First, I needed to finish the conversation with my mother.

Even if my mother told me not to worry, even if she said she'd handle her own retirement, I had no intention of listening.

I was determined to resolve the Hancheon Group issue and guarantee my mother a comfortable retirement with no entanglement in share fights or anything like that.

It wasn't only out of filial piety.

It was stubbornness, selfishness.

Even after a divorce like that, I would prove to you that you could still be happy.

I would tell the little boy crying on the playground swing that his parents were now living happily.

Because that would let me become even happier.

Because that was the only way I could part with my past self and move beyond it.

* * *

Morning came.

It seemed I had fallen asleep right there in Aria's room.

I glanced beside me and saw Aria still sleeping peacefully.

I lightly kissed her forehead.

"Mm..."

"Sorry, did I wake you?"

Perhaps it was the sensation against her forehead. Aria let out a small moan and opened her eyes, then, still half asleep, buried her face in my chest and mumbled.

"Brother..."

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Hehe, Brother..."

Her sleeping face and her half-awake face were both angelic.

Maybe the reins had come loose after yesterday, but I found myself kissing her lips this time.

Aria, drowsy with sleep, opened her eyes wide at my kiss.

She seemed about to say something, but my lips were already pressed to hers. Aria gave up on speaking, relaxed, and accepted the kiss instead.

We kissed like that for a long while, and slowly our lips parted.

Aria covered her reddened face with her hands and asked.

"A kiss from you first thing in the morning. I'm happy, of course, but did I maybe have bad breath...?"

"You only smelled good. I'm more worried about whether I had bad breath."

Even during the kiss, Aria's distinctive scent had been the same.

I do take special care with my oral hygiene, so my breath probably wasn't bad, but I couldn't help worrying.

Unless it's really severe, it's hard for a person to notice their own bad breath.

Then this time Aria kissed me.

After a kiss that was a little too long to be called a peck ended, Aria said.

"Yours doesn't smell at all either, so you don't need to worry."

"That's a relief."

This time, neither of us could have said who started it; we simply kissed again.

It seemed we siblings had become addicted to kissing.

"Right, speaking of which, what about the collar?"

Aria's neck had no collar on it.

Thanks to that, the now almost-faded bite mark was visible.

I felt sorry that I had fallen asleep without taking the collar off for her. It must have been uncomfortable to take off alone.

"I took it off because I thought it would be uncomfortable to sleep in. Or would you have preferred I kept it on...?"

"No. I should have taken it off for you earlier. Sorry. Wasn't it hard to take off by yourself?"

"It wasn't that complicated, so it was fine."

I looked at Aria's white nape, with nothing on it except the faint bite mark I had left, and felt relieved.

Wait.

Why was there nothing on it?

"Aria."

"Yes?"

"You're wearing your swimsuit, right?"

At my words, Aria lifted the blanket and checked underneath.

And then her face immediately turned bright red.

"I-it must have come undone while I was sleeping. Ahaha..."

Aria laughed awkwardly, trying hard to play it off.

Judging by her reaction, she hadn't taken it off on purpose—the strings must have come undone while she slept.

I could feel Aria fumbling around under the blanket, feeling for her swimsuit.

Then Aria's hand touched my body.

To be precise, my lower body.