Table Manners
Early in the morning, Jia and Jihun were having breakfast together, just like any other day.
Sitting at the dining table, Jihun nibbled on the French toast Jia had prepared, sipping his coffee while scrolling through the morning news on his smartphone.
Jia, on the other hand, was completely naked, a leash fastened tightly around her neck. She was curled up at Jihun's feet, eating cereal drowned in milk.
Her legal status was Yeochuk—female livestock. Naturally, a spoon was out of the question. Even her bowl was a cheap plastic dog dish bought from some discount dollar store.
"Sluuurp... cough... chawp..."
Humans do not possess the elongated snouts of dogs. Every time she buried her face in the dish to eat, milk rushed up her nose, and soggy flakes of cereal smeared all over her cheeks and chin.
But Jia didn't care.
"Gasp... snort... slurp..."
She flicked her tongue out, greedily licking away the stray cereal clinging to her lips. Even when the milk burned her sinuses, she merely let out wet, snorting coughs and kept shoveling the food down.
"Snort... gulp..."
Occasionally, the milk that had gone up her nose would mix with snot and drip back down into the bowl. Still, Jia paid it no mind and kept eating.
It all came from inside my body anyway, she brainwashed herself.
She ate with such frantic desperation that milk and cereal splattered in all directions, but she couldn't afford to slow down. Her heart raced with anxiety.
The last time Jihun had ordered her to eat off the floor, she had picked at her food too slowly. Her punishment had been three days locked in the bathroom.
(She only guessed it was "about" three days; Jihun had left her in pitch-black darkness, causing her to completely lose her sense of time.)
Thanks to the cherished "memories" of shivering violently in the dark and drinking out of the toilet bowl to survive, Jia no longer threw childish tantrums over her food.
It was, indeed, a testament to Jihun's highly effective training methods.
To make matters worse, if Jihun finished his meal before she did, he would throw a violent, petty tantrum.
Thus, stripping herself of all dignity and shame, Jia had no choice but to focus entirely on devouring her food.
By the way... what on earth does this bastard do for a living?
Jia wondered, letting out wet snorts as she cleared the milk from her nose.
Ever since Jihun had cut ties with the family, she had heard nothing about him.
Even after their reunion, he rarely spoke of his past or his career.
She could only piece together fragments from his occasional rants, the rapid clacking of his keyboard from his room, and what sounded like professional business calls. Jia assumed he was a freelancer working from home.
This was an absolute nightmare for her.
If he at least commuted to an office, she would have a moment to catch her breath.
She might have been able to put on some clothes and rest comfortably in what used to be her apartment.
But Jihun almost never left the house, leaving her with zero respite.
Crazy hikikomori bastard...
Jia silently cursed Jihun as she continued her pathetic meal.
"Noona."
If there was any silver lining, it was that Jihun still called her "Noona," and he "permitted" her to speak informally to him.
She didn't realize that this was merely Jihun's twisted desire to violate her not just as a piece of livestock, but specifically as his older sister.
Though, even if she did know, it wouldn't have made a difference.
"Noona."
Jihun called out to her again.
Lost in her thoughts, Jia didn't answer.
"Noo. Na."
"Gack!"
Jihun yanked the leash.
Jia's head snapped violently backward. With a harsh, choking cough, the half-chewed cereal and milk in her mouth sprayed forward.
"Seriously, Noona, what kind of table manners did they teach you?"
"I-I'm sorry. Cough! Noona is just... too stupid... I don't know proper etiquette... sob."
Jia wheezed, gasping for air as the collar choked her throat.
"You used to nag the absolute shit out of me, always lecturing me about 'table manners.'"
Jihun tightened his grip on the leash, pulling it even harder.
"Gurgle! Ah! Ack!"
He placed his foot squarely on her slender back.
With the leash pulling her neck back and his foot crushing her spine, Jia's body bent backward like a bow.
"I'm... s-sorry... I did... wrong... Noona is... such... a d-dumbass..."
Creak, creak. Ominous popping sounds echoed from her severely strained spine. Jia's face flushed a dangerous, dark crimson.
"Noona, seriously, what's wrong with you? Huh? Back in the day, you and our parents teamed up to tear me a new one every single meal. 'Why are you smacking your lips?' 'Why are you picking at your food?' You motherfuckers roasted me daily, and now look at you. Talk about a double standard, huh?"
Jihun pressed down harder with his foot while pulling the leash tighter.
"Gurgle... hrrg..."
Her slender back convulsed with agony and tension, the tendons in her neck bulging. The grinding of her vertebrae grew louder, making a sickening crack, crack sound as if her spine was on the verge of snapping.
"Felt good back then, didn't it, you fucking bitch? Huh? I must've looked like a perfect punching bag to you."
"Squeeeak... h-heeegh..."
Jia's face turned a bruised, purplish-black. The tiny trickle of air squeezing through her crushed windpipe sounded like a boiling kettle.
Yet, Jihun did not loosen his grip.
Since childhood, Jihun had loathed family meals to the point of physical revulsion.
To him, dining with his family was never a meal; it was a public execution.
Under the guise of "table manners," his conservative parents would launch into endless lectures the moment they sat down.
The target of these lectures was always Jihun, and the topic was invariably how much of a pathetic loser Jihun was compared to Jia.
Their parents showered praise on Jia's high grades and achievements, using them as a hammer to crush Jihun's self-esteem.
The way he held his spoon, the way he held his chopsticks, the way he chewed—everything was compared to Jia.
And Jia had sat right beside them, smugly chiming in to mock and belittle him.
But now, Jihun no longer feared mealtime.
And his sister's place had been permanently relocated from her chair to the floor.
"S-S-Save me... Save me... c-can't breathe..."
Hearing her desperate, strangled plea,
"Tsk."
Jihun clicked his tongue and let go of the leash.
Her head, which had been pulled back so tightly, snapped forward. Her limp body collapsed onto the floor.
"GAAAAH!"
As her crushed airway suddenly burst open, she let out a bizarre, screeching wail like a dying elk.
"Pathetic bitch."
Jihun grabbed her by the hair and—
"Gurgle?! Glub?!"
—shoved her face straight into the dog bowl.
Milk and soggy cereal flakes rushed up her nasal passages, flooding her windpipe with a burning, suffocating agony.
"Eat properly, you fucking whore. Stop smacking your lips. And stop spilling it everywhere, goddammit!"
Jihun ground her face deeper into the bowl, throwing her own childhood lectures right back at her.
"Glub...?! Cough...?!"
It was the literal definition of "drowning in a saucer of water"—or in this case, a dog bowl of cereal.
As the milk and solid chunks backflowed into her lungs, her central nervous system screamed in panic, warning her of imminent death. But her weakened body couldn't muster the strength to resist.
For a few agonizing moments, Jia's life was entirely in Jihun's hands. She thrashed in pain, her face buried deep in the soggy mess.
A moment later,
"Cough... wheeze..."
Jihun finally released his grip, and Jia was barely able to lift her head.
He had slammed her down with such force that her nose felt broken. Thick, dark blood began to stream from both nostrils, dripping directly into the leftover cereal.
The white milk quickly swirled into a murky, pastel pink.
"Wow, Noona. I didn't know you liked strawberry milk with your cereal."
"N-Noona... is just... a stupid... little cunt... hehe..."
Even in this state, Jia desperately degraded herself to appease him.
"Well, I'm done. You can have my leftovers."
Jihun dumped his half-eaten French toast and scraps of salad into her dog bowl.
And then,
"Let me mix it up so it's easier for you to eat."
He ground his foot into the bowl, crushing it all together.
The French toast and salad scraps mashed into the bloody, pink milk and soggy cereal.
The resulting mixture of blood, milk, bread, and vegetables no longer looked like food. It was a grotesque slurry of garbage, resembling fresh vomit.
"Thank you, sweet brother..."
Yet, Jia pressed her forehead against the floor, politely expressing her gratitude.
Her "thank you" was not a lie.
Her brain, thoroughly melted by constant abuse and conditioning, now perceived the mere permission to eat this disgusting slop as an act of "kindness" and "generosity."
"You really should be grateful to me, Noona. After all the shit you put me through, I'm still mixing your food for you. Seriously, you won't find another brother in this world who cares about his sister as much as I do."
Jihun patted her head, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Her hair was now as coarse as dog fur, reeking of stale sweat and filth.
"You're right. My little brother is the best."
Jia lifted her head, offering a vacant, brain-damaged grin.
"Look at this fucking retard, smiling like an idiot."
Jihun chuckled mockingly and walked over to the living room.
"Slurp... chawp..."
Jia buried her face in the bowl again, gorging on the slop like a pig.
A moment later,
"Oh, you must be thirsty. Let me give you some water."
A warm sensation splashed over Jia's head.
It was Jihun's urine.
The stream soaked her dry, matted hair, trickled down her face, and pooled into the dog bowl.
The warm urine mixed with the vomit-like slurry, releasing a pungent, sickening stench.
"Thank you... slurp... Jihun. My little brother... gulp... really is the best."
Yet, Jia just giggled, praising her brother.
What a truly loving sibling bond they shared.