In the past few months, Minseok had mastered the techniques of being a good child, at the age of four. In the week spent at his uncle’s house, Minseok had doubled his efforts to become even better: He had learned to remain noiseless and eat a reduced amount of food to spare him receiving irritated looks from his aunt.

Even now Minseok kept his head hanging low to avoid looking at her as he sat on the backseat of her car with his angelic and brilliant cousin Joonmyeon. His aunt was driving them to their kindergarten; it would be their first day at a school. Everyone was fond of Joonmyeon because he was talented, while he was an idiot who did not even know how to tie his shoelaces.

Minseok felt hate toward his parents at that moment. They were supposed to be dropping him off at school; they were supposed to give him their blessings on his first day. But, sadly, his sister was going to be born on this very day, and his parents had to go to a hospital (his uncle had informed him before leaving for work).

Minseok felt hate toward his sister, too. Ever since she had gotten inside his mother’s stomach (he still wondered from where and how she got in there), she had and has been getting all of his parents’ attention. Every day and every night, in every discussion, she would come up. They had decided on a name for her: Minseo. And for the reason that her name was similar to his, he hated her more. It felt like she was replacing him — everywhere.

His mother’s belly had grown bigger and bigger as time passed. The last time he had seen it, it was like a huge balloon. His mother and father would talk to the belly sometimes, which had given him the impression that they had gone mad. Belly never responded to them, so why chat with it?

His mother had taken him along to shop for tiny clothes and soft toys. She had asked for his opinion on them; he had said (and thought) that they were cute. And that was precisely when fear had settled inside him: What if his parents forgot him because of his sister? What if, because of this new baby, they would not love him anymore? Were they investing so much of their time on this baby, his sister, because they did not want him any longer? He had attempted at becoming the perfect child — not whining and annoying them, obeying them, eating all his vegetables, reading ABC, cleaning up all mess after playing, etc. — but why did they want his sister still? Were his efforts not enough? Was he not enough for them?

His fear had only solidified when, seven days ago, his mother had told him th