13. Birthday
“...Son.”
“...Mm...”
“...My boy.”
“...Hm?”
I jolted awake, my mind snapping back into focus as I shot upright.
“Son.”
“...Yes.”
“No matter how much you drink, how could you sleep in your little sister's bed?”
“...Is this Gyeo-ul's room?”
“She's right there in the corner, all scrunched up.”
I turned my gaze, and sure enough, there was my sister, face down under the covers against the wall, breathing softly in sleep.
...Lucky or unlucky, I couldn't say.
“...I must've gotten mixed up from the booze.”
“Drinking's fine, but moderation, okay? Don't you feel bad for Gyeo-ul?”
“Who else looks after her like I do?”
“And the guy who 'looks after her' steals her blanket after getting wasted?”
“No, she's covered up nice and snug today.”
“That's because I fixed it. She was sprawled out on the floor.”
“...That could happen.”
“Anyway, if you wanna keep sleeping, go to your room. If you're eating, come out. I need to let Gyeo-ul rest a bit more.”
“I'll eat.”
“Drink in moderation.”
“Yes.”
“...Got it?”
“...Got it.”
The moment Mom left, I let out a huge sigh of relief.
...Even with my head pounding like it might split open, last night's memories were crystal clear.
Why the hell did I do that? My words and actions had been total opposites.
I hadn't planned it at all.
Maybe I should quit drinking.
I turned to look at my sister, still face down. I gently pulled back the blanket.
Her neck was covered in hair. I brushed it aside softly with my hand.
There it was—a mark, red enough that I couldn't deny it.
...
I pulled out my phone to check myself. Luckily, mine was hidden under my clothes.
I carefully got out of bed and headed for the door. Just as I grabbed the handle—
“...Oppa.”
My sister, who I'd thought was asleep, spoke up.
“...Oppa is... still Oppa, right?”
“...Even if you hate it, I'll be Oppa forever.”
“...You were really wasted last night, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“Blackout?”
“...Yeah.”
“...Yeah. I'm gonna sleep more.”
“Okay. Sleep well.”
“...Happy birthday.”
“...”
After that short exchange, I got smacked on the back by Mom until she left for work. But the seaweed soup was delicious anyway.
Our family counts birthdays by the lunar calendar, so we don't make a big deal out of the solar one. Just seaweed soup for breakfast.
Of course, I don't bother with the lunar stuff, so I have no idea when my actual birthday is. Somewhere around Chuseok, that's all I know.
Even on the day, aside from the variety of meats showing up, it doesn't really feel like a birthday.
With friends, it's just an excuse to hang out—no real party vibe.
Bottom line: I never got a birthday present until high school graduation.
After that... well, I got a gift card from my sister. No idea how you're supposed to use that in the army—or society, for that matter. But I did use it.
“Oppa.”
“Yeah.”
“Here, for you.”
After lunch and dishes, I was lounging on the sofa when my sister brought over a long box with a familiar design.
...Isn't this kinda expensive?
“...Birthday present?”
“...Yeah.”
“Th-this thing costs tens of thousands, doesn't it?”
“It's the cheaper version—only 400,000 won.”
“Where's a high school senior getting that kinda money?”
“...I don't spend my allowance.”
I tore open the plastic and unpacked it. Sure enough, one of those smartwatches from the ads lately.
I'd been debating buying one after discharge, yeah...
“How much allowance do you get?”
“50,000 won.”
“...A month?”
“A week.”
Still, that's gotta be two months' worth saved up. Less than my army pay.
...Something about it stirred up guilt.
“...Lately, with you driving me around, no bus fare, and eating at home...”
“Well, yeah...”
“So I've had some extra.”
Uh... indescribable feeling. Should I say sorry? Thank you? No clue.
“...Can I try it on?”
“Oh, hold on.”
She took the box, peeled off all the packaging, charged it up, then grabbed my hand and fastened it on my wrist.
“...Looks good.”
“You never wear a watch. Thought you might need one.”
“...Thanks.”
A bit burdensome, sure, but it's a gift—better receive it gratefully.
...Crap. What do I get Gyeo-ul for her birthday? Big trouble.
This means at least a laptop. Damn.
“...Gyeo-ul.”
“Yeah.”
“Uh... anything you need?”
“...Asking me that feels kinda off.”
I slipped in the question while syncing it to my phone, but she caught me.
...Tch. Guess I gotta figure it out myself.
“...Uh, never mind.”
“?”
“...Nothing.”
I looked down at Gyeo-ul as she set her phone aside and took my left hand.
With her head bowed, the mark stood out.
But I couldn't point it out. It never happened, after all.
“Ah... I'll grab a bandage.”
“...”
...But I couldn't hide my gaze.
Mosquito bite or whatever.
Feeling like I was wasting time, I tried for something productive. Workout? Nah, doesn't take long.
After a year and a half of pointless army life, I had no idea what to do. Can't study for Suneung again.
Maybe get a certification. But studying for that just doesn't stick.
Wrong major, probably.
I headed to the kitchen for coffee. While the water boiled, a private message popped up.
It was that buzzcut dude about to enlist.
We bickered via text until the water boiled over. I made my coffee and headed back to my desk.
But as I passed, the door to her room caught my eye for no reason.
...What’s she up to?
Don’t know why, but I knocked. Knock, knock, knock.
My hand moved on its own, and she peeked her head out.
“...What’s up?”
“...Reading a novel.”
“Making coffee—want some?”
“Sure.”
“Black? With milk?”
“Milk.”
“Iced?”
“No. Hot.”
“Hold on.”
I turned back to the kitchen, door at my back. Dumped coffee mix into mugs, poured the hot water.
Loaded a tray with two cups and returned.
“Here.”
“I tidied the bed—sit if you want.”
I hadn’t planned to, but refusing felt awkward, so I plopped down cross-legged.
We both buried our noses in our mugs. The only sound was coffee sliding down our throats.
Weird. We’d talked fine yesterday—why the sudden silence?
“...Hey, Oppa.”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t come in to talk or anything?”
“...Nah.”
“Okay... ...”
I was just curious what she was doing. Meant to peek, make coffee, leave.
But the flow led here somehow.
“...Gyeo-ul.”
“Yeah.”
“What for dinner?”
“...It’s your birthday, Oppa. Something tasty.”
“...Eat out?”
“...Yeah.”
That was the only topic worth bringing up.
At least we could hit restaurants now. Been ages since we ate out together.
“Where to?”
“Dunno—somewhere you like.”
“...Too broad.”
“It’s your birthday.”
“Still, just us two—should match tastes somewhat.”
“...Then let’s look together.”
She patted the spot next to her, so I scooted over.
Watched her search on her phone, but nothing jumped out.
“...Maybe search restaurants instead of dishes?”
“Yeah, but...”
“Somewhere nearby first. Walking distance.”
“Okay.”
No point driving, and circling home on the map showed a well-rated Italian spot.
Special day, too much Korean food lately. Familiar, not too divisive.
Should be fine.
“This place?”
“...Looks decent.”
“Let’s do it. Western food for a change.”
“What do they eat for birthdays in Italy, Oppa?”
“Pasta or pizza, probably?”
We’d picked a spot, but she kept searching.
Wondering what for.
“Oh, in Italy, they pull your ears on birthdays.”
“Really?”
“Yank!”
She grabbed my ear quick as a flash.
...Don’t touch ears.
“...Cut it out.”
“As many times as your age, they say.”
“Seriously, stop.”
I tried pulling away, but she wouldn’t let go.
Words weren’t working, so I grabbed her ear too.
Hers was small and soft—unlike mine. Felt weirdly good.
“...”
“...”
Staring, fiddling with each other’s ears. Super awkward.
Uh...
Um...
Maybe thirty seconds of eye contact. My fingers warmed up.
“...C-coffee’s gone. I’ll head out.”
“...Ah. Yeah.”
I bolted up and out of the room.
Forgot the mugs too.