A Sibling Boundary (2)

The Hancheon Group chairman's office.

Three people were in the room.

"I have completed everything you instructed, Chairman."

A young man in a suit that still carried a hint of youth reported with his head bowed, as if he did not dare make eye contact with the person seated upon that throne.

Seated in the place of honor was an elderly man whose hair had gone white.

But he did not give off any impression of frailty.

Even though age had thinned his muscles, his frame still looked sturdy, and his intimidating presence made him the very picture of vigorous old age.

The chairman of Hancheon Group, Han Jin-cheol.

He was the owner of one of Korea's leading conglomerates, a giant who had clawed his way up from the very bottom with his bare hands and seized the throne.

Tap, tap.

Chairman Han was checking documents while lightly tapping the desk with his hand. It looked as though he were counting a beat, or perhaps holding something back.

The young man who called Chairman Han his grandfather showed no sign of lifting his head. Finally, Chairman Han spoke.

"You were so desperate to lower production costs that you gave no consideration whatsoever to competitiveness through quality. Did I not teach you that numbers are not everything? And you call this finished work?"

"I-I'm sorry, Chairman!"

"Get out."

"Chairman..."

"I will not say it twice."

The middle-aged man standing beside Chairman Han quietly signaled with his eyes. At that gesture, the young man finally left the chairman's office with his head hung low.

Chairman Han skimmed the documents with his eyes, then handed them to the man beside him.

"Secretary Kim, dispose of this."

"Yes, Chairman."

The middle-aged man silently carried the documents to the shredder.

As the shredder chewed through the paper, Chairman Han sank back into his chair and thought for a moment.

"Secretary Kim."

"Yes."

"Do you think there is anyone among my children and grandchildren capable of inheriting this group?"

Secretary Kim considered for a moment, wondering whether his words might end up lending weight to someone.

But the giant before him had no taste for such empty formalities. So Secretary Kim answered honestly.

"I believe Miss Seo-yeon and Young Master Sa-il have the highest likelihood. Miss Ji-young would also have been suitable, were it not for that matter."

"You're not wrong. But neither of those two satisfies me either. Seo-yeon is still young, and she still doesn't know how to hide her emotions. Sa-il is too busy scheming with cheap tricks. He's past forty, yet at his core he's no different from a child who still fears me. No wonder his own son is the way he is."

Chairman Han clicked his tongue.

"The others are even worse. They might somehow manage to run a single company, but they are not leadership material for the group. Ji-young at least grew more sensible with age, but in the end she passed her inability to manage her emotions down to her granddaughter."

Chairman Han had no intention of handing the empire he had built to an incompetent and then retiring. That was why he had held on to the chairman's seat for decades.

But Chairman Han's standards were high. He had rigorously educated his successors with the intent of raising them to meet those standards, yet perhaps because of that very rigor, none of them had grown up properly.

They abandoned their duties, or chased profit even at the cost of corruption, or became intimidated in advance, or rebelled. Among them, the worst were the incompetent ones.

Chairman Han clicked his tongue. At that, Secretary Kim studied his expression for a moment before speaking.

"Come to think of it, Miss Ji-young's birthday is coming up soon."

Secretary Kim was a loyal retainer who had assisted Chairman Han since the very bottom. To him, even the chairman's children, now in their forties, were still young masters and young ladies.

"Are you hoping I'll show my face at my daughter's birthday?"

"I merely follow your will, Chairman. However, it seems Young Master Si-hyeon will also be attending."

"Hmm, that boy, is it..."

Chairman Han's gaze changed.

"Do you remember? The conversation that child had with me when he first came to Hancheon Hotel saying he wanted to see his mother."

"Of course. You asked Young Master Si-hyeon whether he had any intention of becoming part of the Han family and living with his mother."

"The answer that followed was a masterpiece."

Si-hyeon had said:

He knew that the entire family, including his father, could not be reunited. So while he was grateful for the offer, he would not accept it.

So Chairman Han had said at the time:

Since he had become one of the group's successor candidates, even if he could not lead the entire group, he could inherit a single company and live in leisure for the rest of his life. Later, once he had acquired that much power and authority, he could simply bring his father over, could he not?

Chairman Han still could not forget the answer that followed.

"He said caring for his father was a promise he had made to his mother. Then he asked whether you, Chairman, could do business with someone so untrustworthy that he would break a promise that easily."

Chairman Han recalled Si-hyeon's eyes as the boy looked straight at him and spoke.

"Yes. If he carries my blood, he should be capable of at least that much."

He had not lost his courtesy, and even while giving up enormous profit, he had shown not the slightest emotional wavering.

And on top of that, the wisdom and boldness beyond his years to try to persuade him.

Chairman Han could not help but realize it.

The fact that he either had no luck with his children, or had perhaps raised them wrong.

Chairman Han laughed loudly at the fact that the only one who had rejected his bloodline was more outstanding than anyone else.

"Very well. It was two months from now, was it? Tell my daughter to put my name on the guest list as well. I should at least see my grandson's face."

"Understood."

Of course, Chairman Han had no intention of forcing someone who refused to inherit the group. That was not what he wanted.

Hancheon Group was the empire he had built over a lifetime, his very life.

He considered that merely by bequeathing each of his children and grandchildren a single company and allowing them to live in luxury for the rest of their lives, he had more than fulfilled his duty as a parent and grandparent.

But the group was different.

He could not hand it over to an incompetent.

If it came to that, he would far rather hand it over to someone capable and loyal like Secretary Kim, even if they were not of his blood.

However, at least while he remained in good health, he intended to give that grandson with the Baek surname a chance as well.

Because if the boy carried his bloodline, that was only fair.

* * *

Seo-yeon was staring blankly at the calendar.

She thought to herself that she really was a simple woman.

"I must be crazy..."

She buried her face in the pillow.

I'd been sure I hated him, and I'd thought what happened today had only made it worse.

And yet, all it took was one sentence about coming to Mom's birthday to lift my mood this much.

I know.

He is coming to see Mom, not me.

"I wonder if the Chairman will come too."

Even in that thoughtless mutter, I had called Chairman Han “Chairman” rather than “Grandfather.”

Successor training that bordered on abuse.

There hadn't been any violence or verbal abuse, but it was abuse all the same.

If I couldn't master a lesson perfectly, I was locked in solitary ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠confinement. Until I got it right.

Mom had done everything she could to stop that near-abusive training.

Busy as she already was, she helped me with the work I'd been assigned and even confronted Chairman Han in anger.

But Chairman Han had answered calmly.

If I wanted to give up my obligations, then I should give up my rights as well.

I know.

After the divorce, the only thing Mom had left from her blood family was the company she had inherited.

I didn't want to cause Mom any more pain, so I gritted my teeth and worked even harder.

I thought it every time.

If only my brother had been by my side.

If only he had lived with us instead of staying with Father.

I know.

It is a cowardly thought.

A cowardly hope that maybe my brother would shoulder my responsibilities for me.

Ever since I started thinking that way, I sometimes got snappish whenever I saw my brother.

I didn't want to call him “big brother,” so I called him “hey,” “you,” or “Baek Si-hyeon” instead.

I was basically getting angry at him because I'd ended up shouldering responsibilities that should have been his. I couldn't complain even if he despised me.

Even so, that thought wouldn't go away.

If only my brother were by my side.

Maybe as punishment for how I had treated him, my brother eventually almost stopped coming to see Mom. At best, I saw him on Mom's birthday.

Then one day, I stopped being locked in solitary confinement.

But I'd never once heard Chairman Han praise me.

Still, I was satisfied with that.

I learned the truth a little later.

Chairman Han, it seemed, had taken a great interest in that guy.

So had he stopped locking me up not because he thought I was hopeless, but because he'd simply lost interest in me?

That guy hadn't even gone through successor training.

He'd been acknowledged by Chairman Han without ever suffering what I had?

A guy who had just lived happily, knowing nothing.

The thought horrified me, so I got angry every time I saw him.

And then I hated myself for getting angry for such an unfair reason.

I wished he would just get angry at me too.

But he never did.

Instead, one day, he suddenly disappeared.

After a while, he stopped coming even on Mom's birthday.

I didn't want to ask Mom about him. Every time I did, I hated hearing her call him “your brother.”

So I secretly went to the address ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where he lived.

I rang the doorbell, but no one answered.

I didn't want to see him, but Dad should have been living there too. Yet the place was eerily silent.

Like an empty house.

Had he gone into hiding?

I checked his social media every day.

There were no updates.

Thinking he might have made a private account, I searched every similar username I could derive from his. Nothing.

It was nearly two years later that I learned the truth.

The trigger was trivial.

A friend kept talking about a handsome upperclassman, and his name was exactly the same as that guy's.

I went to check just in case, and there he was.

Apparently, he had enlisted in the military.

If I'd just asked Mom, I could have spared myself all that heartache from the start. A hollow laugh escaped me.

Still, maybe it was because two years had passed.

Or because we hadn't seen each other.

My feelings toward him had faded enough that I managed to get through the conversation without much trouble.

If things kept going like this, someday—

"I'm Aria Lindblom."

I still remembered it vividly.

That doll-like beautiful girl clinging to him as if they were close.

She called him “Brother.”

She said she loved him.

I immediately guessed who she was.

Dad's daughter with his mistress.

His half-sister.

It was horrible.

The fact that, absurdly, I was jealous.

The fact that he was being a brother to that girl in a way he'd never been for me.

Absurdly, all that horrible successor training came in handy. I managed to hide my jealousy of the girl named Aria.

But I couldn't hide my resentment toward him.

I know.

This is why he hadn't wanted to be a brother to me.

I'm not cute like that girl. I'm an ugly person who gets angry because he didn't suffer in my place.

Why am I getting angry again over something so obvious?

I know.

Just as Aria said, this feeling is jealousy.

It is the jealousy of a little sister whose brother has been taken from her.

I know. I know. I know all of it.

I hated him. I hated him, but I wanted him. Love and hate. I had wanted him beside me all along.

I wished he would just get angry at me. I wished he would despise me.

Then maybe I could have thrown all this hatred and affection away somewhere. Maybe I could have forgotten.

But after that one last thing he said, I find myself hoping again.

Maybe I can be his little sister again.

"Big brother."

In the dark room, to the guy who wasn't there—

I called for my brother.

* * *

"I'll go change first and come back."

"Sure, I'll call you when dinner's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ready."

Only after returning home did Aria let go of my hand and head to her room with quick little steps.

Had she been secretly embarrassed about the kiss in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠park even though she had initiated it? Still, she seemed to have regained her composure as we walked, because now Aria's face was a little flushed but her expression was calm.

There was something I needed to say first.

Knock, knock. I knocked on Linnea's door.

"Linnea, are you in?"

There was no answer.

I had guessed as much since I didn't see any shoes at the entrance, but I had knocked just in case.

'I can ask her later.'

I set the serious conversation aside in a corner of my mind for the moment, went into the kitchen, and put on an apron.

"Right. Now that I think of it."

Before picking up the kitchen knife, I made a call on my smartphone.

The dry ringback tone repeated until I finally heard the sound of connection. I wedged the phone between my head and shoulder and said while slicing an onion.

"Dad?"

"Si-hyeon? What's going on?"

"I was wondering when you'd be back. Just asking in case—you do know the two of them have returned to Korea, right?"

"Of course I know. I know, but... I'm sorry. I don't think I can come back for a while. I'm still overseas."

My father's voice carried an apology. It had been a while since we had last spoken.

With good reason. He should have come back sooner to congratulate the two of them on their return, but he hadn't been able to.

The reason I had contacted him to ask was also because of the two of them. If it had been when I was living alone, I would have thought nothing of it even if my father never came back, but not now.

"Do you think it'll take long?"

"At the very least, about a month. It could be longer. This client is extremely difficult."

"At least contact Linnea often. She won't show it, but she'll be feeling hurt inside."

"I will. I'll call every day."

"Do it for Linnea, not me. I'm hanging up."

When the call ended, I let out a sigh without thinking.

"Hah..."

My father was a furniture broker who traveled around Korea and abroad. Thanks to that, his income was fairly high, but it also meant he was often away from home for long stretches.

If he said at least a month, he probably wouldn't be back for two. That was how my father talked. It meant it would take a month only if everything went perfectly smoothly.

Just then, Aria, who had changed clothes and come out to the living room, saw my face and tilted her head as she asked.

"Is something wrong?"

"Father says it'll be hard for him to come back for a while."

"Ah, that explains it..."

Aria clapped her hands together as if she had realized something.

"You know something?"

"Mother seemed to be preparing to go overseas again these past few days. At first I thought she was just making a short trip to Sweden, but seeing this, I think she's probably going to where Father is."

"Oh, really?"

It had only been a few days since she returned, and she was already preparing to leave the country again. It worried me, but at the same time, it made sense.

The reason my father knew the two of them had returned, and the way Linnea had seemed busy these past few days—perhaps the two of them had been in contact fairly often?

If so, my advice to contact Linnea more often so she would not feel hurt had been completely groundless.

"Now that I look at it, those two really are a loving couple."

"Hehe, doesn't the phrase 'a match made in heaven' fit them perfectly?"

This was also why I didn't worry about whether my father might commit another infidelity now.

Even if the two of them were physically apart, their relationship had never once been bad.

Of course, that was a good thing, but honestly, from my position of remembering when he divorced my mother, it was a complicated feeling. Not that I disliked Linnea either, since she was my stepmother.

"Now that I think of it..."

"Hmm?"

"If Mother goes overseas, then for a while, it'll be just the two of us left in this house, won't it?"

It seemed like something serious was about to happen.