“No, you can't do this. You can't do this to him, please, I beg of you, leave him alone.”

 

He slammed the table hard and leaned dangerously close to the woman opposite him. Despite the wrinkles which reflected the turmoil she had been through all these years of her life, her inner beauty still shone. She was beautiful, and breathtaking. Yet, there was something which didn't coincide with the other characteristics of her. In her eyes, it was fear.

 

Sensing her apprehension, it brought about cold and sick pleasure in him. He let out a short sinister laugh, “Why do you only care about him? Why didn't you love me as much as you love him?”

 

Her hand slid across the table and lay on top of his. Tears began to well up in her eyes and they dripped down her defined but soft chin. Soon after, her petite and fragile frame began to shake. “Please… I didn't mean to hurt you like this. It is all my fault, it has nothing to do with him, and it has nothing to do with the Parks. Please leave them all alone… take it all out on me, leave the innocent alone, please…”

 

Hearing her pleas, he felt a greater rush of adrenaline through his body. A great gush of pleasure and satisfaction shot through him like a huge wave. And what made him even happier was that this wave was what was slowly drowning and killing her. He threw his head back, letting out a poisonous laugh that was a thousand times more terrifying and sinister compared to the one before. “Why should I even listen to what you say?”

 

“Because the Parks are innocent!” She shrieked, tears falling down her face at a much faster rate this time. “And you can't hurt him. You can't hurt Jiyong. He's… He's your only brother…”

 

Jiyong.

Brother. 

Jiyong. 

Brother.

 

 

 

Dara jerked up from her sleep and her pants echoed the living room. She began to take slow, deep breaths until her breathing went back to normal and her hands weren't shaking so badly. She shook her head slightly and shut her eyes as she leaned back onto the sofa. Her head immediately sank into the soft material. She let out a long sigh. What was that? A nightmare? Even though the faces in her dream were blurred out completely, it felt so real that Dara was almost fooled to believe it was more of a memory than a dream. Her brows furrowed while she tried to sort out her thoughts. Jiyong didn't have a brother, did he? She was more than sure Jiyong had never mentioned anything about siblings. She dismissed it as a mere dream, even though for some unknown reason, the moment in her dream seemed so dangerous and frightening. The cries of the woman remained etched in her mind, and even through her dismissal, Dara found the dream terribly unsettling.

 

_________________________________

 

Dara remained very silent throughout breakfast. Honestly, it was very unusual and different for Dara to be able to keep her blabbermouth shut. It surprised Jiyong a little, but it wasn't as though Jiyong had disliked that. He preferred the silence and rather it stay that way. Things were perfect way they are, until Dara decided to open and break the peaceful moment Jiyong was enjoying.

 

“Jiyong, how old are you?”

 

“Twenty-eight.” Jiyong replied without even looking up from his newspaper.

 

“Oh,” Dara nodded before adding, “I… Me too…”

 

Jiyong looked up at her, and sipped on his hot coffee. “Cool,” He told her, “But I didn't ask.”

 

For a moment, there was this long and uneasy silence in the air.

 

“Are you… the only child? Any siblings?” Dara asked while she leaned forward towards him unconsciously, desperate to know the answer.

 

Jiyong furrowed his eyebrows. Shaking his head cautiously, he decided to satisfy her curiosity. “I'm the only child.” That one sentence was all that it took to bring her great relief. It must all be a dream. “Why do you ask?”

 

Dara raked her brains to search for answers to his question, yet she didn't know how explain herself. How was she going to tell him she had this weird dream which she thought was a memory from her past life? Dara was caught in a tough spot, until the ringing of a cellphone diverted Jiyong’s attention from her, allowing her to heave a hidden sigh of relief.

 

Jiyong picked up the phone and the expression he wore on his face instantly changed. For a moment, worry was plastered on his face. However, this single emotion was washed away so fast to be replaced with his stoic look once again that Dara wondered if she was actually hallucinating when she saw Jiyong worried.

 

Jiyong put down the phone. In all seriousness, he spoke, “The old man is in a critical condition right now, I have to rush to the hospital to see him.”

 

With that, Jiyong grabbed the coat hanging behind his chair and made a dart for the front door. Dara knew she hadn't any right to poke her nose into Jiyong’s internal affairs, but knew that Jiyong’s father was his only family left in this world. Now that his father is in a critical condition, it meant that he could be gone at any moment. She couldn't find any explanation for being worried for Jiyong’s emotional state if his father were to die, but she just knew that she couldn't leave him at this critical moment.  On the outside, Jiyong had put up a strong front and acted like he hated his father, but Dara understood that the saying of how blood is thicker than water would never go wrong. Despite everything, she knew it wasn't possible for Jiyong to hate his father forever. With that, she rushed off behind him.

 

_________________________________

 

The machine beeped slowly. It was like time had stopped between the father and son. As though they were stuck in a twilight zone, the two men stared at each other in absolute silence. The only difference was that the old Kwon held a loving smile behind the oxygen mask on the lower part of his face, while the exact replica of the old Kwon held an emotionless look on his face. Death meant nothing to him now, Kwon Jiyong was already used to being alone in this world.

 

Mastering all the strength left in him, the old Kwon lifted his old, bony hand and gripped onto the tip of Jiyong’s fingers gently. Staring at the old man in front of him while Jiyong stood at the side of his hospital bed, Jiyong wondered why he had never noticed how frail and weightless his own father had become through these last few months of his life. Was it that he hadn't noticed, or he chose to ignore it?

 

“Jiyong, my son,” The old man smiled. “When your mother first got pregnant, I thought it was a girl. I wanted a girl who had the same identical features of her’s.” He gripped onto Jiyong’s fingers tighter. “But I'm glad you were born. A son isn't too bad, many said you looked exactly like me. But I told them you looked way more handsome.” He laughed, his gaze never leaving Jiyong.  He then turned his head slightly to look at Dara who was standing beside Jiyong. “And this lady looked just like your mother, so beautiful, and so stunning.”

 

Dara was unsure of how to reply to such a compliment, so she just smiled and nodded her head in utmost elegance as a form of gratitude.

 

It wouldn't hurt for Jiyong to return a tenth of the affection his father was showing him, but nonetheless, the stoic look on his face didn't cease to change. “Your condition has finally stabilized, so you shouldn't talk to much. Take a rest.” He said shortly.

 

The old man wasn't affected by Jiyong’s attitude. Perhaps, he was already used to it. He shifted his head a little against his pillow. With shaky hands, he reached for the oxygen mask and pulled it down. “There… is something I have to tell you Jiyong…”

 

Jiyong nodded, not displaying much interest, but rather, just for the sake of pacifying the old dying man.

 

“Jiyong, before your mother met me, she… She wasn't alone.”

 

Jiyong nodded again, even though he was very much confused.

 

“She had a son with another man. You… you had a brother Jiyong.”

 

The sky seemed to have collapsed on Jiyong. The shock was just like a huge gush of cold wind that sent him back a few steps. What? A brother? His mother had never mentioned that to him.

 

The old man continued, “I tried to look for him all these years but all data was wiped out. It was as though… As though… He was avoiding us all… Like in a game of hide and seek. Find him Jiyong, after I'm gone, he's the only one you would have left.”

 

Jiyong blinked hard. Once. Twice. And then thrice. He cleared his throat, “If you would excuse me.” He then left the room so abruptly without explanation. Dara stared at his retreating back, unsure of what to do. She had two choices- one; to follow Jiyong out and two; stay behind to look after this rich but old man.

 

The old man sensed her dilemma and chuckled softly. Even a laugh seemed very strenuous to him. “Go after my son, look after him please. He's so used to being alone that he had long forgotten what it feels like to let anyone into his heart.”

 

Dara let out yet another small smile. This piece of news hadn't really brought about a huge amount of shock to her. It was as though deep deep down in her heart, she already knew Jiyong had a brother. Clutching the hem of jumper, Dara knew the dream meant something more than a mere nightmare. She tried to think harder, think deeper, yet the faces in her dream remained as hazy as before.

 

_________________________________

 

The next few days went by in a blur. Jiyong spoke even less to her, and she often saw him staring in a distance, pondering deeply. Dara had cancelled her meet up with Bom just to keep Jiyong company. She knew her presence might not mean anything to Jiyong, but the words of his father remained etched in her mind. He wanted her to take good care of Jiyong, so she had been there to ensure that Jiyong was physically alright, even though she was unsure about his mental state.

 

Dara sighed while she sliced the onions on the chopping board. She was planning to make some kimchi chigae for dinner. She didn't really know how to cook that dish, but she had always been the kind who would improvise her way through things in life, a clear opposite from the careful planner currently coping himself in his study room.

 

Things were terribly frustrating these few days. First of all, the Jiyong and his dad issue. And next, Jessica consistently came to bother Jiyong in his office. She couldn't stand her flirty behaviour. What a ! Why was she even friends with Jessica before? She scoffed while she thought of the times Jessica tried to hard to please her and tears began falling down her cheeks. Was it because of the betrayal? Or was it because of the onions? Dara didn't know herself either.

 

Dara thought about how she treated both Jessica and Minho with nothing but kindness. In a fit of anger, she slammed the knife down the chopping board. The knife sliced through Dara’s index finger, causing her to drop the knife immediately. She glanced at the blood oozing out from her wound, and a soft but warm breath tickled the crook of her neck all of a sudden.

 

“You're always making a mess.”

 

“It hurts.”

 

“Yeah, I know. It'll heal soon.”

 

“No,” She shook her head, “My heart… it hurts.”

 

Jiyong looked up from her wounded finger and stared at her with a bitter smile. He leaned back on the kitchen top, not uttering anything.

 

“You know… when you treat someone sincerely and then they just stab you in the back? And when your perfect life suddenly changed so drastically, and you realised everything was a lie?” She smiled through her tears. That smile, ironically, was a sad one. Since when smiles went along so perfectly with tears?

 

“No,” Jiyong told her. “I don't know. I've never been betrayed, because I've never trusted anyone in the first place.”

 

Dara laughed a little at his honesty. “Are you feeling better?”

 

Jiyong guided Dara out of the kitchen to treat her wound. “I've lived 28 years of my life without a brother. He isn't needed in my life. What's more, if he wanted to, he would have looked for me.”

 

She looked at him with full understanding. “You don't need him. You still have me.”

 

Another awkward silence engulfed them for more than a minute. Dara mentally slapped herself for saying such things. What was that even for? Just a few days ago, she was sure they mutually hated each other.

 

“Dara?”

 

“Ye...Yes?” Her heart was beating faster and faster.

 

“I'm done with your wound.”

 

“Yeah!” Dara let out an exclamation which was louder and more awkward than what she had intended it to be. She's such a loser.

 

“So unwrap your fingers around my arm. I'm leaving.”

 

“Right,” Dara laughed nervously. “No touchy touchy. I don't like touchy touchy either.”

 

“You're lying. You were holding onto me while crying just now.”

 

“Oh, is it? I… I don't remember.”

 

He looked at her, his eyebrow cocked up in great amusement. Who was she kidding? “Okay.” He just said, there wasn't any point in going against her lies. Jiyong stood up, ready to return to the kitchen to clean up the mess Dara created. He hadn't mentioned anything, but the onions she tried to slice were a failure. They were all in huge chunks and he was sure they were inedible. He noticed the broccoli on the kitchen top just now as well. No one adds broccoli to kimchi jigae. And how was she going to cook that dish when there wasn't even kimchi at home?

 

“Erm Jiyong?” She broke his sudden train of thoughts. “About the tears-”

 

He spun around to face her. He tried to crack a joke, but it sounded way too serious. “Till my death, I'll believe that it was because of the onions.” He walked off.

 

Dara wiped off the remaining tears on her face. Nonetheless, she understood his mind intentions. “Yeah, the onions…” To no one in particular, she muttered, “Thank you…”

 

_________________________________

 

“OH MY GODDDD!” A loud ear piercing scream echoed. Like a sharp pointed needle, the high note pierced right through Jiyong’s ear drum. He shut his eyes in annoyance. So much for a peaceful morning.

 

Dara slammed her face into the piece of glass, the loud thud surprising no one else but herself. “It's not moving,” She whispered to herself. “It's not moving, it's really not moving.”

 

She turned around sharply to face Jiyong who was once again reading his newspaper. What a boring habit! Such a turn-off! “Jiyongie is dead!” She screamed at him.

 

Jiyong sighed without paying her much attention. “It's not, so just leave it alone.”

 

Dara snatched away his newspaper and glared at him hard. “You don't even care about your own son!”

 

Jiyong was thrown aback by her accusation. “It's not my son. And I do buy all of his fish-food. I did play my part and I-” Wait, why was he even defending himself?

 

Just then, the fish started swimming to the right of the tank.

 

“Oh! It's still alive!” She shrieked gleefully. She then turned her head back to Jiyong and waged an accusing finger at Jiyong, “It's all your fault! It's all your fault he tried to feign his own death!”

 

“God,” Jiyong scoffed. “You're unreasonable.”

 

Through gritted teeth, she pushed Jiyong’s chest hard. “You've been acting so depressed and dead these few days for a reason God knows why! Can't you just move on from the brother thing? And I've been so considerate to your own emotions I've neglected Jiyongie.” She turned her head away in anger. “It became lonely.”

 

“I wasn't depressed. I was just busy with work-”

 

“No!” She cut him off, “You were lonely and you were in pain. Just like Jiyongie our fish.” She told him, tears threatening to fall as though her fish has suffered huge injustice. “But you had me to keep you company. Jiyongie had no one.” A tear fell and she wiped it off furiously. “We're going to the fish farm.”

 

“What for?” Jiyong groaned.

 

“We're getting him a sister!”

 

Jiyong massaged his temples. “Not another fish.”

 

“It's okay, this time, we'll get an octopus.”

 

Jiyong groaned.

 

Again.