Back Home from the Funeral
Coming back home from the funeral hall, I found my sister had set up a low table in front of the living room TV. I pulled a bag of potato chips from the shopping bag and tossed it to her. She fumbled trying to tear it open from the side, so I opened it for her instead. She'd tuned into that food channel I'd gotten sick of watching during endless duty shifts. I cracked open a beer and nibbled on the chips bite by bite. The celebrities on screen gleefully yelling "one bite!" with their laughter echoing—it made me a little envious.
"What'd you buy all this for?"
"If there's any left over, we can eat it later."
I washed the lingering saltiness from my mouth with the beer. The bitter alcohol scent mixed with a nice buzz. Feeling the crisp carbonation while staring at the TV felt a bit awkward. Hmm... what should I say to keep the conversation going? A guy who'd distanced himself from society probably wouldn't click with a high school girl anyway.
"Oppa."
"Yeah."
"Why do people drink alcohol anyway?"
My sister suddenly hit me with a philosophical question. Why drink? Because it's there, duh. Yeah, that's not a good answer.
"Just... the vibe, you know? You drink, get buzzed, and suddenly you're laughing over nothing."
"Do you like alcohol, oppa?"
"Not hate it."
"Then why didn't you drink earlier?"
"...With all the family elders there?"
I like drinking and drinking parties fine, but that's when you can enjoy it with people. That place? Pure hell.
"You think that booze goes down easy there?"
"Why? Uncomfortable?"
"You know damn well why you're asking."
"...Then you're not uncomfortable with me?"
It'd be a lie to say there wasn't any awkwardness drinking with my high school senior sister, but whatever. She'd be legal next year anyway. Might as well learn from her big bro while she's at it. As long as Mom doesn't find out.
"What's there to be uncomfortable about with you?"
"...Are we close, oppa?"
"I've been trying to get close since you started high school, but you were the one acting all shy and weird about it."
Honestly, I was a bit prickly back in high school, but after Suneung, I'd like to think I mellowed out—a subjective opinion, sure. I started being dutiful to Mom, looking after my sister more. Even evolved from "no-fun trivia nerd" to just "no-fun guy" with my friends.
"That was... scary."
"...Scary?"
"Someone who's distant suddenly acting all buddy-buddy—it's creepy."
Is it? Fair enough. If my sister suddenly started acting all cutesy, it'd freak me out too.
"Still, no harm in siblings getting close, right?"
"Well... yeah."
"Plus, if things get awkward between us, I'll be the one Mom chews out."
"Why?"
"...She gave me an earful after Suneung."
Mom's gentle scoldings were so terrifying they haunted my dreams sometimes. Might've preferred a good ass-kicking.
"So you knew you were being an ass back then."
"I was sensitive, sure... but you're a test-taker too. You get the stress."
"Not that bad for me."
"Yeah, figures. Those weekend calls were appreciated, though."
"...Mom made me do it."
Using her delinquent big bro as a cautionary tale must've made her extra good and thoughtful. Or maybe it was just seeing her after half a year.
"Doesn't matter why. It meant something to me. You and Mom were the only ones reaching out first."
"...No friends, oppa?"
"Got 'em, but they just roast me in KakaoTalk. Won't call even if they die."
"'Cause you're close."
"Dunno. Make 'em buy me food later."
I chugged the rest of the beer, feeling a light buzz creep in. Haven't drunk in ages—damn, I'm such a lightweight now.
"...Can you handle it?"
"Dunno."
But she kept sipping steadily, so it seemed tolerable. No flushed cheeks either—definitely Mom's daughter.
"Oppa."
"Yeah."
"...I miss first year of high school."
"Why suddenly?"
"Home felt good back then."
She cracked a new can and stared at the TV.
"I could rest here after getting worn out outside."
"Yeah."
"Now I get worn out at home. Feels like I'm going crazy."
"..."
"I know Mom gets stressed when I'm struggling... makes it worse."
What do you say to that? Telling someone trying hard to "keep trying" just pisses them off. Telling someone suffering to "hang in there" drains them more. Mom would've hugged her and said, I love you, my girl. No way I could pull that off.
"Gyeo-ul."
"...Yeah."
"I got some sweets too. Try this."
I peeled the gold foil off a chocolate and popped it in her mouth. Dwelling on gloom just makes it gloomier. Apologies or thanks? Too heavy right now.
"I've got a list of all the restaurants I wanna hit post-discharge."
"...Yeah."
"But a bunch are kinda awkward to go alone."
"..."
"...Help me out."
Her head nodded faintly, up and down.
"...Aren't you embarrassed saying that?"
"What're we embarrassed about? We're family."
That's why I can say it. To anyone else? No chance.
Sugar really was the best antidepressant. Alcohol helped too.
"This one's good too. Sweet."
"That's basically a drink."
She sipped the fruit beer, her expression brightening as it suited her taste.
"Oppa, you've changed a bit since the army."
"Me?"
"You used to be more stoic."
Did I? Maybe I just missed family, or the booze was loosening me up. People get sentimental around discharge anyway. Personally, I felt no different from college days.
"Yeah, they say army changes you."
"Was it tough?"
"...Nah."
Honestly, today was tougher than army life.
"Don't act all mature."
"I'm still more adult than you."
Compared to her, wobbly after two beers. She used to be the quiet one.
Never seen her so chatty.
"...Wonder if Dad's doing okay."
"He'll manage. Not the type to starve."
No real grudge against the guy, but he wasn't a good dad. Sis and I probably don't even know what a "dad" really is. Maybe he doesn't either.
"Mom... hope she's okay."
"Long as you're fine, she'll bounce back quick."
"...Don't pressure me."
Wasn't what I meant.
"Not about Suneung. Whether you ace it or bomb, she'll be healthy if you're okay, comfort you if you're hurting."
"Can you stop with the 'bomb' talk?"
Taboo for test-takers, huh. But her snapping back meant she was perking up—reassuring.
"Don't worry. I did fine; you'll do great too."
"...Annoying."
Teased too much? She seemed sulky.
"Wanna bet?"
"Bet?"
"If your scores beat my active-duty ones, I'll buy food."
"...What metric?"
"Grade total."
"Tie?"
"You're humanities. I'll win easy."
"You'd need all 1s."
"Then get 'em."
"...Instead of food, grant a wish."
Raising the stakes suddenly. Risky.
"...What're you gonna ask for?"
"I'll think about it then."
"Nothing too pricey."
Laptop or tablet, maybe. Beyond that, tough.
"It's fine."
First smile from her since discharge.
"Won't ask for stuff to buy."
Chatting away like that, cracking open cans one by one, it was suddenly midnight. ...Sleepy. The soldier who'd faithfully upheld his patriotic duties couldn't stay awake on schedule. Booze made it worse. But passing out before my sister? Ego bruise too deep. Had to hold out.
"Oppa."
"Yeah."
"...From now on, I wanna be better to the people I care about."
"...You drunk?"
Sudden out-of-nowhere talk from her. Fair, with over ten empty cans rolling around—half mine, sure.
"Should've called Grandma more, told her I loved her more."
"Think about it later. Later."
"Wasn't the aegyo daughter for Mom either."
"...Why're you like this? Not like you."
"Dunno. Drunk, I guess."
She let out a light laugh. At least not crying—small mercy.
"...And you too, oppa. Be better."
"Me?"
"Family."
"..."
"You're precious to me."
My cheeks tingled. How long since pure affection from someone? Half a year? Wait, not 'someone'—family.
"Kinda funny when you act all grown-up."
"Never."
"Just three years older."
She scratched at the table.
"Can't even get leave. Just calls worrying about me."
"'Cause you're a test-taker."
"...I know it's 'cause you got nothing else to say."
"Why ask if you know?"
"Just. Hiding stuff from family feels dumb."
Her fingers crept over, brushing my hand.
"Gonna be more honest from now on."
Slurring a bit for drunk, but eyes half-closed—too clear-headed.
"Lend me your hand."
"What."
She stroked my fingers, then yanked my hand to her forehead. Warm skin—or instinctive revulsion?—gave me chills. Ah, now I get the 'scary' bit. Sudden change freaks you out.
"Cool..."
"...Time for bed. Tomorrow'll be rougher."
"Yeah... sleepy..."
She nuzzled my palm more, then suddenly bolted up and flopped onto the sofa.
"Hey, go to your room."
"..."
No response. Considered carrying her, but I was woozy too. Grabbed a blanket strewn on the living room floor and draped it over her. Brushed teeth quick and headed to crash, but she'd kicked it off—tucked her back in. Turning away, she tugged my t-shirt.
"...What."
"......"
Her peacefully sleeping face made waking her feel wrong. Tried gently prying her fingers from my shirt, but couldn't. Gripping tight? Or her tiny hand looked too vulnerable? Unclear. Leaned against the sofa base and shut my eyes. Summer AC felt chilly. Booze haze clouded my mind. Her soft breathing lulled me like a lullaby, consciousness fading. My first night back in society slipped away.