96. The Plan
Despite my head insisting I didn't want to do anything, my body had gone ahead and burned through a ton of energy on its own. ...Well, what can you do? We hadn't done it lately, and things were about to get busy, so we wouldn't for a while. Once assignments and exams wrapped up, Dad would be back, making it even harder. At least until vacation, there was still so much time left.
But looking back, that much time had already flown by. For example:
"Son, pull out all the clothes you won't wear and leave them in the living room. I need to pack away the winter stuff."
"Yes, ma'am."
This meant it was already time to store the winter clothes.
"Just leave them out in the living room?"
"Yeah, just pull them out. Oh, right—what do you want for dinner?"
"Um... meat?"
"Meat's meat—what's with the 'meat, please'? Speak properly."
"Then pork belly, please."
"Alright, got it. We'll grill some pork belly for dinner."
As I sorted through the unworn clothes from my closet, piling them neatly, I heard the next door creak open with a jolt. Arms full of clothes, I headed to the living room, and then—click—the sound of a door shutting.
"Daughter! Open your closet for a sec. I need to clear out the stuff you won't wear."
"Ah, yeah. Um, just a minute! Mom..."
Sounds of rummaging echoed from everywhere, followed by, "...Daughter. What is this?"
...Mom's voice was laced with extreme bewilderment. I couldn't see the details from beyond the door, but...
"Ah... um... that's..."
"...Daughter?"
"..."
My sister had been caught. Something she absolutely shouldn't have been caught with.
More rustling as things were shuffled around. "I won't say anything if you've got a boyfriend... but..."
"...I don't have a boyfriend..."
"Gyeo-ul. I'm not trying to scold you. You're in college now—you can date. But..."
"I said I don't!"
"...Then why'd you buy this? You planning to wear it outside?"
"..."
"...Haa."
Probably clothes. Or something you wear, at least. The key point was, Mom saw it as anything but wholesome. She wasn't the type to get mad over short outfits usually. ...Probably the kind of thing she couldn't show to anyone but me.
"I just... wanted to try it on alone..."
"...Gyeo-ul."
"It's true..."
"Daughter... if you have a boyfriend, just tell me?"
"..."
"I'd actually feel less worried if you did. You know I wouldn't complain if you had one, right?"
I could guess why Mom—who usually didn't pry—was so concerned. It'd be less uncomfortable if there was one. A daughter with a boyfriend owning sexy clothes? Clear purpose. Sure, she'd worry if it was a weirdo, but as long as it wasn't...
But no boyfriend and those clothes? No clue what the purpose was. Easy for her mind to veer to the worst possibilities—and reality was far worse.
"I don't want to meddle in your love life, Gyeo-ul. Just tell me who he is? I need to know who's dating my daughter. ...I'm your mom."
"..."
No answer. An eerily quiet silence.
"...Kim Gyeo-ul!"
Bang—the door flew open. Even for spring, Gyeo-ul—in just a short-sleeve tee and shorts—shoved her feet into shoes and bolted out the front door. Mom yelled her name in shock.
"Ah, son... Sorry, did you hear that?"
"...I'll go check on her."
"...You will?"
"Not sure, but it sounded like you two were fighting? I'll talk to her first."
...Had to assess the situation. Figure out how to fix this. No idea what dangerous thing she'd been caught with to set Mom off like that, or what excuse to spin this time.
Leaving Mom still fidgeting anxiously, I grabbed an outer layer from the living room pile, threw it on, and followed Gyeo-ul. She couldn't have gone far—not dressed like that.
I rushed down the stairs, checked the parking lot—empty. Thought about calling, but I'd left my phone on the couch. Pacing near Mom's car, I glanced at the entrance and headed out.
Clop clop. It didn't take long to reach our usual back alley meeting spot.
"...Oppa."
There she was.
"Hey. Even if it's spring, come on. You'll catch a cold dressed like that."
Not even that chilly, but she was rubbing her arms and legs, so she must've been cold. I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over her silent form.
"...What about Mom?"
"Told her I'd talk to you."
I scanned around again, then lightly hugged Gyeo-ul as she panted, on the verge of tears. ...At least she wasn't crying. Just freaked out?
"What exactly did Mom find?"
"...Clothes, and pills... and... lingerie, and... headband..."
...Not just one thing, huh. Makes sense—she wouldn't react like that to clothes alone. Sexy clothes, sexy underwear, sexy accessories... and birth control pills? It'd be weirder if she didn't say something. Holding it together this well for her barely-college daughter was impressive, honestly. ...She might've let self-toy stuff slide, even.
"How'd it happen?"
"They were all hidden in a box... but she opened it to pack winter clothes..."
"Hide it better next time."
"...Didn't think she'd suddenly look."
"Doesn't mean you run off. ...Now Mom'll think it's even weirder."
"I was too shocked..."
Fair enough. Pretty much like getting caught with your sex life by Mom. ...And it wasn't even an upright relationship.
To calm her, I pressed her face to my chest and stroked her hair. How to handle this? She's in college—give her privacy. She's smart, won't date weirdos. Easy to say. Hard to tell Mom that.
"How sexy were they for Mom to flip like that?"
"...O-oppa, I was gonna show you... Bought 'em the other day..."
"...You've been into that lately? Sending me naughty pics."
"Busy with assignments and midterms... We agreed not to go out for a bit, so... felt bad for you, Oppa..."
"Haa..."
I don't get it. Why does she love me this much? Her affection's so heavy—it's endearing. Endearing enough that I'd do anything for her.
As I patted her back, brainstorming excuses for her, it hit me: "...Ah."
...Mom. She was peering around, then turned our way. She saw us. Hesitated, then approached step by step.
"..."
I kept patting Gyeo-ul's back. Stroked her hair. Gestured to Mom, mouthing something.
"..."
Mom stopped. Carefully backpedaled. Soon out of sight again.
I calmed my pounding heart, took a deep breath.
"Gyeo-ul."
"...Yeah."
"Cry a little. Now."
"...Huh?"
I mashed her face into my chest so she couldn't speak. Head hot, blood rushing to my brain—ideas flooded in. Last time's thought. The time before. This time's. It all meshed. ...A total scumbag idea, but it felt workable.
"Mom saw us."
"Mmph..."
"...Sent her back, so pretend to cry. Hurry."
She squirmed and mmph-ed, then settled quickly. I felt her breath through my shirt.
"When we get back, don't say a word—just lie in bed. Got it?"
"Mmph... mmph..."
I held her tight until my shirt dampened, then sighed deeply and let go. Caught a glimpse of her wrecked face, but she covered it, so no more.
"Hand. We'll go up holding hands."
"...Mom?"
"She won't suspect. Thinks I'm comforting you. Lock your door the second we're in. ...I'll handle it."
I snatched her covering hand and pulled her along. Slowed our steps. Waited for Mom to head in first, then calmly returned home. Clop clop up the stairs, letting the sound announce us, boldly opened the door.
"...Daughter."
"..."
The moment we entered, Gyeo-ul yanked her hand free and fled to her room. Bang—door shut and locked.
...Okay. Swallowed, sorted my thoughts again.
"Mom."
"...Son."
"...Did Gyeo-ul do something wrong?"
"Not exactly. Just..."
"Leave her be. She'll handle it."
"Son."
"...If it really bugs you, I'll keep an eye on her. Chase off any weirdos. ...She's probably shocked her privacy got exposed to you. ...Pretend you didn't see. She's not a kid."
Like leaving a cat to guard the fish shop. In Mom's eyes, her reliable son, doting big bro. Time to milk it. Whatever it takes, fuck.
For the sister who'd do this much for me, who'd follow my lead without question—for Gyeo-ul, I'd lie a thousand, a million times.
"...No weirdos hanging around Gyeo-ul, right?"
"I'll check. She relies on me a lot anyway..."
"...Can I trust you, son?"
"...Of course. I don't talk about it, but you know how much I care for her."
"You know Mom sees how you look after Gyeo-ul."
"Trust me. ...I'm not the type to let my sister cry, am I?"
How many times had I swallowed the churning guilt? It'd become routine. The shame hadn't vanished. But lying for you? Not hard anymore.
Kicked off my shoes, went in, knocked on Gyeo-ul's door.
"Kim Gyeo-ul. Open up and come out."
"..."
"...Come on, Gyeo-ul."
She'd locked herself away obediently—now emerged. Eyes slightly teary. Messy hair. I ruffled it more disheveled, then scolded gently.
"Even so, running off when Mom's talking? ...Wash your face and sit—cool off."
"...Okay."
"...Gyeo-ul, Mom didn't m-mean—"
"No, no, it's fine, Mom. I'm sorry..."
I watched Mom hug Gyeo-ul tenderly, then headed to the sofa. Grabbed my phone, slipped away to my room. Scanned the photos I'd collected. ...Get it together. Just hold out till summer. If I play it right, giving Dad his atonement chance, pretending we've been burned by bad people, making it seem like Gyeo-ul got hurt too, keeping that sister by my side forever... even getting Mom to reluctantly understand... it's all possible.
No confidence in playing the good son forever. But hurt siblings? Yeah, I can pull that off.