Chapter 60
Chapter 60
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: Just a Big Kid (With a Small Body Too)
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Seeing her so deeply immersed in those anime characters was just so heartbreaking.
Sister never once blamed me or got mad at me.
But deep down, she must have been seething with resentment.
She probably hated me for hogging all of our parents' attention.
Whenever those feelings welled up, she must have looked at her anime characters and repeated to herself over and over that she couldn't hate her little sister.
Thinking about that just makes her so pitiful—it's hard to even watch.
How desperate must she have been to lean on anime like that?
It's so admirable, it's hard to hold back.
I just want to adore her.
I never told her I'd watched that anime too.
Instead, I started mimicking the anime character's speech patterns.
Not too much, though.
Like the little sister Tsukuyo in the anime, I started referring to myself in the third person.
Things like, "Seol-yoon's sad! Seol-yoon's disappointed! Seol-yoon's bored! Seol-yoon minus a hundred points!"
I've never lived in Japan, so I wouldn't know, but at least no one in Korea talks like that.
...
Sister seemed completely oblivious to why I was doing it.
I was looking forward to when she'd finally catch on.
I'd known about her streams for a while already.
Just in case, I searched for "Jeonseol" in the nicknames on every major streaming platform...
What am I supposed to do when her real name is right there in the nickname, Sister?
Are you really trying to hide your identity? You idiot?
Maybe deep down, she doesn't actually want to hide it.
People's actions and feelings don't always line up perfectly, after all.
Anyway, I'd been pretending not to know while waiting for her to tell me herself.
But before she could even say what her stream was, she goes and causes this huge mess.
The moment I saw her stream was live, I felt a bad premonition, and by the time I saw the screen, I was already bolting out of the house, hailing a taxi.
When I got to Sister's place right away, thankfully, the real accident hadn't happened yet.
I turned off the stream and pulled her into a hug, and she immediately started puking all over me.
Sister, my chest isn't a toilet.
I dragged her to the real toilet and carefully stripped off her clothes so none of the vomit got in her hair.
Take care of Sister first, then worry about laundry later.
I rubbed her back a bit and asked,
"Feeling better now?"
"Ugh."
Is that a yes?
I dumped her clothes haphazardly by the sink and stripped her down.
No wonder she felt sick—thick sweater, cosplay suit, two tank tops layered on top.
Oh, I took too much off.
Put one back on.
I rinsed her mouth with water and asked again.
"Better now? All done puking?"
"Sorry..."
Not sorry—did you finish puking?
I swallowed the urge to scold her.
That wouldn't fit my image.
'Should I make her brush her teeth?'
Stomach acid on teeth for too long can damage them.
I rinsed her mouth once with water, but brushing would be better.
Forcing it might just make her puke again, though.
"Sorry..."
She kept whining, so I pulled her into my arms again.
"Not sorry—say thank you."
Reciting her anime character's lines for her.
"Mommy..."
Is this what it feels like to be the guy pining after a girl who's in love with someone else?
I'm the one who came all this way, got puked on, hugged her, took care of her—and she's calling for Mom?
Infuriating.
That person's sleeping at home right now, and I'm the one here with Sister.
I wish I were her mom instead.
I wouldn't have let her end up like this.
I felt a pointless, twisted pang of jealousy.
As I held her tight and stroked her hair, she seemed to relax a bit and started dozing off with little nods.
Her body was so light that even if she passed out, I could carry her easily.
But not making her brush her teeth was nagging at me.
...
Maybe it's okay for one day.
No guarantee she wouldn't puke again if I made her, so I rinsed her mouth once more and tucked her into bed.
Thank goodness that puke hit my chest and spared her clothes.
If it'd run down her body and required a shower, it'd have been even harder.
I gave her clothes a quick rinse to get the gunk off, threw them in the washer, and cleaned up the drinking mess she'd made.
It wasn't much of a mess—just one bottle of booze and a cola.
Cola as a side dish?
Is she seriously insane?
Is this some self-harm protest because she wants to die young?
Tomorrow, I'm giving her a 30-minute lecture.
Even if I have to cry to guilt-trip her hard.
With nothing to do while the washer ran, I checked online reactions.
A bunch of trash talking nonsense about watermelons or whatever.
No point getting mad.
If an adult seriously argues with elementary school kids, people point fingers and call them weird, right?
These guys are all mentally stuck at elementary school level.
No use getting angry at uncivilized human trash—it just wastes your own energy.
Like arguing with cockroaches.
You gonna talk to them while they buzz around?
...
Can't I just poison them all and wipe them out?
These human byproducts.
I checked that Sister was sleeping soundly, then went outside, took a taxi to a 24-hour supermarket.
Convenience stores are everywhere, but slim chance they'd have what I need.
I came to buy ingredients for hangover soup.
Why not just order delivery?
Do you know how much sugar and salt they dump in delivery food?
Think hard before trading your lifespan for "tastier" outside food.
Back at Sister's place, I made pollock hangover soup.
This woman really only eats the delivery meal kits I subscribed her to, huh?
That was my conclusion after checking the fridge and trash.
What an hopeless sister.
I should've made sure she ate two meals a day, not just one.
I was an idiot for thinking she'd handle even one on her own.
Need to figure out a plan ASAP.
I showered before leaving home.
Washed my feet, brushed my hair to get the dust off.
Light face wash.
Changed into pajamas and lay down next to Sister.
Reached out and poked her belly.
So soft.
Yeah, she doesn't exercise at all, does she.
I could tell on days we worked out together—her stamina hadn't improved a bit compared to before.
Beginners usually improve fast.
How glued to the house is she, you dumb hikikomori.
"You can rely on your little sister, you know, Sis. Why stress over something dumb like age?"
Koreans are so weird.
Live 100 years, stupid stays stupid.
Live 10, smart stays smart.
There are sharp kids and trash adults everywhere.
Why obsess so much over something as trivial as age?
Sister could just let go and act spoiled with her little sister.
But she never does unless she's drunk.
She just needs to admit she's a love-starved kid.
Her refusal to admit it is pretty childish, though.
A kid with just a big body.
Actually, her body's not that big.
Tiny, really.
So cute I could die.
Most middle schoolers are taller than her, so you can see her pouting when she runs into kids heading home from school.
When does winter break end?
It's been so long since I went to Korean school, I barely remember.
I hugged Sister tight and fell asleep.
I hope she doesn't have any lonely dreams alone.
I'm right here.
* * * I wanted to die because my memories were coming back in fragments.
What do I do about that massive screw-up?
Why did I turn on the stream in disguise, you crazy bitch?
Should I go live again, show off my flat chest, and say, "Ta-da! It was all a Rickroll show! Truth is, it's a cliff!" or something as an explanation?
I'm already plummeting off the cliff—nothing but the abyss wherever I look.
Anyone got a time machine I can borrow?
Suddenly, I thought of that cop uncle who knows about my streams.
Hey, does pretending to have big boobs to scam donations count as fraud?
'Warm.'
The feel of a massive meat pillow against my back.
There was Seol-yoon, hugging me tight like I was her body pillow as she slept.
How did she know and come stop my stream disaster?
'Did Dad send her?'
Yeah, Dad knows what my stream is, so he might've sent Seol-yoon.
I still hadn't told her what it was.
Never thought it'd get exposed like this—in the absolute worst way!
I tried to slip away quietly, but Seol-yoon's eyes were already open.
"Sleep well, Sis?"
"I have no face left. I've committed a mortal sin."
"Not sorry—say thank you, like I told you."
Mwah.
Is kissing my forehead her way of seeing me as a seven-year-old kid?
...
Looking at the state of the house, I got nothing to say.
Maybe just a kid who can drink booze.
"I made hangover soup. I'll heat it up."
"......"
Seol-yoon's got huge boobs.
What does that mean?
It means she produces a ton of female hormones.
Studies say the more female hormones, the rounder and gentler the personality.
Feeling the gap between us as humans?
'No! Fight! The urge to battle is a man's instinct!'
So is my personality—obsessed with game rankings—the result of hormones too?
Is that why my boobs don't grow?
Not that I'm bummed about it or anything.
Just coldly analyzing the facts, so don't misunderstand.
I imagined myself with a feminine, kind, soft personality like Seol-yoon's.
Somehow, I feel like puking a little.
Yeah, better as I am.
...
But no more burdening my little sister.