When I returned home, my younger brother had set up a small table in front of the TV in the living room. I took a bag of potato chips out of the shopping bag and tossed it to him. He tried to tear it open but struggled, so I ended up opening it for him. I turned on the food channel, which I'd grown tired of watching during my time on duty, poured myself a beer, and took a bite of the chips. I couldn't help but feel a little envious of the celebrities on TV, laughing and having fun as if they didn't have a care in the world.
"Why did you buy so much?"
"If there are leftovers, what will you eat later?"
I washed down the salty aftertaste with a sip of beer. The bitterness felt refreshing, and the faint smell of alcohol was comforting. It was a little awkward sitting there, watching TV and feeling the cool fizz of the carbonated drink. Hmm… What could I say to keep the conversation going? As someone who had distanced himself from society, I wasn't exactly skilled at talking to a high school girl.
"Brother."
"Yeah?"
"Why do you drink?"
My brother suddenly asked a philosophical question. Why do I drink? Well… because the alcohol is there, I guess. Isn't that reason enough?
"It's just… the atmosphere, you know? When you drink and get a little tipsy, even trivial things can make you laugh."
"Do you like drinking?"
"I don't hate it."
"Then don't drink."
"…Do you want to drink with the elders in the family?"
I enjoy drinking, but what I really like is the company. Drinking alone? That's hell.
"Will the alcohol even go down your throat in that kind of setting?"
"Why? Does it make you uncomfortable?"
"You know why I'm asking."
"…So, are you uncomfortable with me?"
I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some awkwardness in drinking with my high school sister. But hey, you're going to start drinking next year anyway, right? If you're going to drink, it wouldn't hurt to learn how to handle it from your older brother. Just don't let Mom find out.
"Is there anything I can do to make you less uncomfortable?"
"…Are we friends?"
"I've tried to be friends with you since high school, but you were always so shy."
To be honest, back in high school, I had a bit of a rough edge. But after taking the college entrance exam, I'd say I've mellowed out quite a bit. I've been filial to our mother and tried to take care of my little sister. To my friends, I went from being boring to just plain lazy.
"That's… because I was scared."
"…Scared?"
"It's scary when someone you're not used to suddenly acts all friendly."
…Is that so? Well, I guess I'd find it weird too if my younger brother suddenly started acting cute.
"Still, there's nothing wrong with being close with your siblings."
"What… huh."
"And if you and I are in a dreary mood, Mom will scold me."
"Why?"
"…I heard something after the exam."
Our mother's soft but stern voice was so intimidating that it sometimes haunted my dreams. A kick in the butt would've been easier to handle.
"Your brother is aware that he was pretty serious back then."
"I was a bit sensitive, but… you know how it is. It's stressful."
"I'm not like that anymore."
"Well, I was kind of thankful that you called me every weekend."
"…That was Mom's idea."
On the other hand, she's a very kind and admirable younger sister, probably because she's been raised well by our mother. Maybe it's because I haven't seen her in half a year, but she seems even more mature now.
"Regardless of the reason, from my perspective, I was grateful. Except for you and Mom, no one else reached out to me first."
"…Don't you have any friends?"
"I do, but they just send me teasing messages on KakaoTalk. They wouldn't call me even if I were dying."
"Isn't that because you're close?"
"I don't know. I'll have to ask them to buy me food later."
As I finished the last of my beer, I started to feel a little drunk. Maybe it's because I haven't had a drink in a long time. I was really starting to feel it.
"…Are you going to keep drinking?"
"I don't know."
Even so, judging by the way he tilted his glass, it seemed like he could handle it. His face wasn't turning red, so he must've inherited our mother's tolerance.
"Brother."
"Yeah?"
"…I miss my first year of high school."
"Why all of a sudden?"
"The house felt nicer back then."
My brother opened a new can of beer and stared at the TV.
"If I was tired from being outside, I could always come home to rest."
"Yeah."
"Now, I feel like I'm going crazy because I'm tired even at home."
"…"
"You know, when I'm having a hard time, Mom is having an even harder time."
What could I say? Telling someone who's already working hard to work harder will only make them angry. Telling someone who's struggling to cheer up will only drain them further. If I were Mom, I'd probably comfort her by saying, "I love you, my daughter." But I'm not Mom.
"Winter."
"…Yeah?"
"I bought something sweet. Try it."
I tore off a piece of chocolate and put it in my sister's mouth. When you're feeling down, the more you dwell on depressing thoughts, the worse it gets. Whether it was an apology or a thank-you, it was too hard to say in my current state.
"I've made a list of all the restaurants I want to visit now that I'm discharged."
"…Yeah."
"But a lot of them are places you can't really go to alone."
"…"
"…Help me out."
My sister's head nodded slightly, up and down.
"…Aren't you embarrassed to say that?"
"What's there to be embarrassed about with family?"
I'm only saying this because we're family. I'd never do this with anyone else.
In the end, sugar was the best antidepressant. And alcohol, too.
"I think this is drinkable. It's sweet."
"It's mostly just juice."
He took a sip of the fruit beer, and his expression brightened as if it suited his taste.
"Oppa, you've changed a bit since you left the army."
"Me?"
"You used to be more blunt."
…Was I? Maybe it's because I missed my family. Or maybe it's the alcohol talking. People tend to change emotionally around the time they're discharged, so it could be that. Personally, I don't think I'm that different from when I was in college.
"Well, they say you change a bit after going to the army."
"Was the military hard?"
"…Not really."
To be honest,
today was harder than any day in the military.
"Don't try to act like an adult."
"I am older than you."
Compared to my younger brother, who drank two cans of beer and was already tipsy, I was definitely the adult here. He's usually more reserved than me. It's the first time I've seen him talk this much.
"…Do you think Dad's doing okay?"
"He'll figure it out and live just fine. He's not the type to starve to death somewhere."
It's not that I don't have any negative feelings toward him. He wasn't a great father. In fact, neither my brother nor I really know what it means to have a father. Maybe even Dad doesn't know.
"What about Mom… Is she okay?"
"As long as you're fine, she'll be fine too."
"…Don't put pressure on me."
That's not what I meant.
"Not about the college entrance exam. Whether you pass or fail, as long as you're healthy and happy, that's what matters. If you're struggling, she'll be the one to comfort you."
"Hey, can you stop talking about failing or whatever?"
Was that a taboo topic for exam students? Still, I was relieved to see she was comfortable enough to snap back at me.
"Well, don't worry. I've seen how hard you're working, and you'll do just fine."
"…You're annoying."
Did I tease her too much? She seemed a little flustered.
"Want to make a bet?"
"A bet?"
"If your grades are higher than mine were during active duty, I'll buy you a meal."
"…What's the standard?"
"Total score."
"What if it's a tie?"
"You're in liberal arts. Of course, I'll win."
"To win, do I have to get all A's?"
"You can do it."
"…Then, instead of a meal, grant me a wish."
I suddenly raised the stakes. The risk was too high.
"…What are you asking for?"
"I'll think about it when the time comes."
"It can't be anything too expensive."
Like a laptop or a tablet? Anything more than that would be tough.
"It's fine."
For the first time since being discharged, my brother laughed.
"I'm not going to ask you to buy anything."
As we chatted and opened beer cans one after another, it was already midnight.
…I was getting sleepy.
Even a dedicated soldier who's defended the nation can't stay awake properly after drinking.
Still, giving in before my younger brother would've been a blow to my pride, so I couldn't fall asleep just yet.
"Brother."
"Yeah?"
"…From now on, I want to be better to the people I care about."
"…Are you drunk?"
My brother suddenly blurted out something profound. Well, with over ten empty cans rolling around, it was understandable. Even though I'd drunk more than half of them.
"I'll call Grandma more often. I'll tell her I love her."
"Think about that later."
"I don't seem like a very charming daughter to Mom."
"…Why are you like this?"
"I don't know. I must be drunk."
Then he laughed lightly. At least he wasn't crying.
"…And you too, Oppa. Be a little better."
"Me?"
"You're family."
"…"
"You're important to me too."
My face felt warm. How long had it been since I'd received such pure kindness from someone? Half a year? Maybe longer.
"It's funny when you try to act like an adult sometimes."
"I don't do that."
"You're at least three years older."
My brother scratched the table.
"You can't even go on vacation. Sometimes you call and worry about me."
"That's because you're a student."
"…I know you're doing it because you don't have anything else to say."
"Why ask if you already know?"
"Just… Hiding things from family is stupid."
His fingers crept over and touched the back of my hand.
"I'm going to be a little more honest from now on."
His words were surprisingly clear for someone who was drunk. His eyes were half-closed, but he seemed lucid.
"Lend me your hand."
"What?"
He touched my hand with his fingertips, then grabbed it and brought it to his forehead. Maybe it was because his skin was warm, or maybe it was just the alcohol, but it felt strange. Oh, now I get what he meant by "scary." It's scary because he's not usually like this.
"It's cool…"
"…Go to sleep. You'll be even more tired tomorrow."
"So… I'm sleepy…"
He rubbed his forehead against my palm a few more times, then suddenly got up and collapsed onto the couch.
"Hey, go to your room to sleep."
"…"
I called out to him, but there was no response. I thought about carrying him to his room, but honestly, I was feeling a bit tipsy myself. I grabbed a blanket that was lying around in the living room and draped it over him. After brushing my teeth quickly, I tried to sleep, but the blanket kept getting kicked off. Then, as I turned around, my sister grabbed onto my T-shirt.
"…What?"
"…"
It was hard to wake her when she looked so peaceful, sleeping soundly. I gently tried to remove her fingers from my shirt, but for some reason, I couldn't. Was it because she was holding on so tightly, or was it because her hands looked so small? I didn't know.
I leaned my back against the edge of the sofa and closed my eyes. Even though it was summer, the air conditioner made it a bit chilly. The alcohol made my mind hazy, and the sound of her breathing became a lullaby, lulling me to sleep. The first night back in society was passing by.