Tutoring (2)
Fortunately, after a reasonably amicable negotiation with Se-ah, I managed to talk it down to twice a week.
"...Hmm."
That said, Se-ah didn't look entirely sold on the idea. She was probably worried I'd blow off my college entrance exam studying and just mess around.
"Well, if it's you, Oppa, you'll figure it out."
"Mochiron!"
"Anyway, other than math, are you okay with the rest? Any other subjects you're weak in?"
Subjects besides math. Honestly, I figured I could handle the rest well enough. I was on the humanities track, so science wasn't even a concern, and I hadn't fallen that far behind in anything else back in high school. Stacked up against the little sister sitting in front of me, of course, I'd look pretty pathetic.
"Zenzen daijoubu!"
"...If you talk like that, how am I supposed to understand?"
"It means I'm fine."
Se-ah, being a perfectly ordinary person who didn't indulge in otaku culture, couldn't follow most of my Japanese. One of the classic weeb traits, I supposed, was being able to speak Japanese without being able to read or write a single character. And even that "speaking" wasn't everyday conversation—it was that unreal, anime-flavored register. Use it with confidence in actual Japan and you'd only make yourself a laughingstock.
"You said you were aiming for Japanese language and literature, right? And now you're a Japanese woman... so your Japanese must be pretty good?"
"Of course it's perfect desu!"
The truth was, until not long ago I'd only been able to use that stereotypical weeb Japanese I'd just demonstrated. Following my step-father's advice, I'd started studying Japanese little by little with the Japanese language and literature department in mind.
Then I TS'd, and the situation changed completely. My Japanese had leveled up so dramatically it wasn't even comparable to before. Reading and writing, which had always been my weak points, now felt indistinguishable from a native speaker's.
There was one catch, though: kanji still gave me a little trouble. Kun'yomi readings, in particular—a usage that barely exists in Korean—tended to trip me up. Even so, if I had to put a number on it, my Japanese was definitely advanced enough to hold up at university. I'd become a native Japanese person, after all.
When I answered with such confidence, Se-ah clapped her hands as if that settled it.
"Really? Then teach me Japanese!"
"Huh? Japanese?"
"Yeah. I'll tutor you in math, and you tutor me in Japanese."
The first thing I felt when I heard that was, unsurprisingly, confusion.
"Why Japanese, all of a sudden?"
"Because... hmm, I just got interested?"
"You're going to take lessons just because you're interested?"
"Yeah. It's not like that's a problem."
It wasn't a problem, no. But it was still weird, wasn't it?
"You're not about to refuse, are you? Don't go thinking the tutoring is free."
That was unfair. I hadn't even asked her to teach me math in the first place. She'd been the one to ask if I was struggling, and she'd been ready to tutor me fourteen times a week.
"You'll do it, right?"
"...Fine."
In the end, I agreed. I didn't have a reason to refuse, and if Se-ah wanted it, of course I should go along.
"Great. Then since we're on the subject, want to start today?"
"Starting today is a little..."
"Why? Is there a problem?"
The way she stared at me as she asked made it hard to hide how cornered I felt. If she was asking whether there was an actual problem, then no, not really. I could start right now if I had to. I'd missed Jjangjjangwang's stream because of her visit, but I could always catch the VOD. I hadn't streamed yet today either, but I could just do that later in the evening.
"...We don't have any textbooks if we start right now. If we're going to do this, we should do it properly, don't you think?"
"Hmm... That's true. You've got a point."
Thankfully, the excuse I'd barely managed to come up with actually worked. To be honest, textbooks didn't matter that much. I just didn't feel like buckling down and studying for real today.
Sorry, Se-ah-chan.
It hurt, lying to my kind little sister like that.
"Okay. Then let's each pick our materials and start tomorrow. Fine if we do math and Japanese at the same time?"
"Hai."
Better to knock them both out at once than split them into four sessions a week. It would run a little longer, but still.
"Then which days?"
"Uh... Wednesday and Sunday?"
"Any particular reason those days work?"
The reason was simple: they were the two days farthest apart. I had zero desire to cram it all together. Pretty much anyone would feel the same, right? Well—except maybe a student like Se-ah, who was actually good at studying.
"Okay. Wednesday and Sunday it is. Once you pick a textbook, let me know on KakaoTalk. I'll do the same!"
"Wakarimashita..."
"I should probably get going, then."
Se-ah got ready to leave faster than I'd expected. So she really had just dropped by because she was worried about me. She slung the backpack she'd set on the floor back over her shoulders and looked at me.
"Keep in touch more. Not just with me—with Mom and Dad too."
"...Okay."
"They're both worried about you, you know."
Were they?
My step-father, maybe. But did Mom really worry about me? For all I knew, she was relieved that the son who'd always gotten under her skin had finally left the house. I felt a little of that myself, if I was being honest.
Ironically, I was more at ease with Se-ah and my step-father. The person I was most distant from was my own mother—my only blood relative.
I could still hear it. The words that had drifted out of the master bedroom: that it would have been better if she'd had a daughter instead of a son. That single sentence had flown at me like a dagger and buried itself in my chest. Maybe from that day on, I...
"Oppa."
A sudden, enveloping warmth. Then a solid, heavy sensation wrapping around both my arms and my whole torso. Se-ah had stepped into my arms and held me tight. The way she squeezed me wasn't stifling. It was comforting.
Why was Se-ah comforting me all of a sudden? I was fine. And yet her words landed with a resonance that wasn't unwelcome—enough that, without meaning to, I let myself lean on them. Let myself be comforted.
"So you hang in there too, Oppa. I know it's hard. I know something huge happened out of nowhere and you're confused. But you still have family right here, same as always."
Family, same as always.
I'd only told Se-ah the truth so far. Whether my step-father and Mom would really look at me the same way was another question. Would they still be family, unchanged? Or might things even take a turn for the better? But if they didn't...
I didn't know yet. I'd only find out once I found the courage to face them.
One thing, though, was certain. Se-ah still loved me as family.
"Thank you... Thank you so much."
And so the only words I could manage were the plainest gratitude in the world.
Lee Se-ah.
She had an older brother. To be precise, she hadn't always—he'd come into her life when her father remarried.
She had always dreamed of a happy family. Living with just her dad had been happy in its own way, but it hadn't looked like other families. Then a mother had arrived, and a brother with her, and Se-ah had finally gotten the warm, ordinary family everyone else seemed to have.
At first, she'd been overjoyed.
But as time passed, she noticed something was off. It was her brother.
Their family situations were similar. The factors that weren't, though, ran deeper than personality or talent. It was something more fundamental.
A child who had never been loved by a parent, from the moment they were born.
Se-ah couldn't have known that was her brother's story. She could guess, though, that whatever was wrong had something to do with her stepmother.
Why doesn't Mom love Oppa?
"Hate" wasn't quite the right word. Indifference fit better. Either way, it wasn't the way a parent who loved their child was supposed to look. She didn't know the exact cause, but she knew this much: the family she had now had drifted a little off course from the happy home she'd wanted.
So Se-ah made up her mind.
I have to get them to reconcile!
She loved Oppa as much as she loved Mom. She loved Mom as much as she loved Oppa. She couldn't shut either of them out.
It wouldn't be easy. Between the two of them stood a wall built over years she had never lived through. But she was certain that family was strong enough to tear that wall down.
Act too rashly, and someone would get hurt. Oppa, especially.
So Se-ah waited, careful as a lioness watching for her moment, biding her time.
Then an unexpected problem arose. Oppa suddenly announced he was moving out.
Of course Se-ah fought it tooth and nail. If they put physical distance between them now, they might lose the chance to reconcile forever.
But the story Oppa told her shook even that resolve.
A child unloved by a parent from birth.
She'd known it would be hard. She hadn't known it was this bad. In the end, even Se-ah had to admit it. Forcing them to keep living under the same roof with no plan at all would probably only make things worse.
But Se-ah didn't give up.
The scales had tipped toward Oppa—that much was true. And that was all the more reason. For the sake of her kind, gentle brother, she wanted him to feel that family wasn't something uncomfortable. That family could be happiness.
And then another variable she never could have seen coming.
Oppa had become a woman.
A surreal event, completely outside the bounds of anything normal. Oppa was emotionally fragile, shaken. And afraid, at the same time—afraid of how their parents, Mom especially, would react when they found out.
But the way Se-ah saw it, this variable might actually be an opportunity.
Se-ah left Oppa's place, turned on her phone, and looked at her wallpaper. A family photo from her elementary school graduation. Everyone was smiling. Oppa, too, was looking at her with a smile that was just a little awkward.
I'll take care of everything.