On the first day of school, Hoya declared in front of all the students in their school that Sungjong was his brother and anyone who bullied him would have to answer to him. That was enough to scare off the students around Sungjong as he soon found out that Hoya was universally feared in the primary school by the students.

So Sungjong didn’t make many friends but he didn’t mind either because Hoya was always with him.

He taught him how to prank the other kids. He told him what their mom liked to receive as a present and their dad’s favorite color. He talked to him about his younger sister, who had died when she was only a year old. After that, their parents didn’t have any more kids. Thus, Sungjong was adopted.

“You look like her, my sister.” Hoya told Sungjong, who nodded sadly. Hoya thought about something, then said hurriedly, “Our sister, I mean. Even though you didn’t get to meet her, she would have liked you.”

When Sungjong still remained silent, Hoya said, in a whisper, “I’ve always wanted a brother.”

And with that, their bond strengthened, and Sungjong felt that he was very lucky to have Hoya as his brother.

Soon Hoya grew to be more – he became Sungjong’s role model.

He would follow him around, even follow his actions, praying every night so that he could grow up and become Hoya. That was all he wanted – his only aim in life.

Sungjong would find himself trying to copy Hoya’s confident swagger when he thought no one was looking. He even worked out the steps he had seen his brother showing off to his friends or try to rap like him. He would only end up blurting out a series of incoherent words and blush. But luckily he did it with enough subtlety so that no one noticed.

He started to like purple more than yellow and his wardrobe soon became a purple shock. He stuffed even more purple clothing when Hoya seemed to approve of his choice, and asked for purple things for his birthday from his parents, who were surprised but didn’t talk about it.

He was elated when his parents bought him his first spectacles after visiting the doctor because Hoya had to wear them too. He chose a frame exactly like his. Just like his brother, he stopped wearing them at school in front of his friends. It wasn’t cool enough and even though his parents would keep on nagging him, he’d put the spectacles in his backpack before entering school, feeling guilty inside that he let his parents down but excited at the same time that he was doing something Hoya did on a regular basis.

His parents were glad that the two brothers had bonded so well. Sometimes at night while going to the kitchen for a drink, Sungjong would hear his parents in the living room, discussing him. They would praise him, and end with “If only Sohee was alive, she could be like him.”

Those nights, Sungjong would come back to his bedroom, and unable to fall asleep, would toss and turn in the bed. He tried not to think that he was a replacement for Sohee, the daughter they had lost, and even if it was true, he was failing at his job. He could never be Sohee.

Those nights, he would feel a little lonely, a little scared and a little unloved.

He was still not at home. Not completely.

When he felt that way, he wanted to cry. But Hoya had told him crying was not manly at all, so instead he would slip out of his room quietly and make his way to Hoya’s. There, he moved as noiselessly as possible, curling up in the bed beside his brother but no matter how hard he tried not to make a single noise and wake his brother, he would always feel Hoya’s arms winding around him.

Every time he was in Hoya’s bed, he knew and he welcomed him. The acceptance lessened the pain of rejection and engulfed in Hoya’s arms, he thought that maybe home was not that far away as he drifted off to sleep.

It was one of these nights, many years after he had first developed the habit of sneaking into Hoya’s bed, when, wrapped in Hoya’s arms, he had an epiphany – he realized why his brother’s presence was so comforting to him, why he was dying to impress him, why his approval meant so much.

He tried to push the thought away, repeating to himself that even thinking about it was sinful. But his heart thought otherwise as it sped up, drowning all other sound, except Hoya’s rhythmic breathing.

Sungjong hated himself for it, but he was undeniably in love with Hoya. He had crossed a line there but no matter how much he battled with himself, he couldn't stop from being in love with him. He even once reasoned with himself that it was okay because Hoya wasn't his brother by blood but the next moment he realised how horrible the thought had been and put it to rest, repeating stubbornly in his head that Hoya was his real brother.

Ever since he lost the battle with himself, he tried to distance himself from Hoya. Yet Hoya was gravity itself, pulling him intensely. He thought that as they grew older, the feelings would vanish. He wasn't quite right. They somewhat diminished, as Hoya became busy with girls and his friends, who didn’t want to hang out with Sungjong, but still they were there. Thin, but very much alive. It was easier for Sungjong to stay away from Hoya and everytime he saw him with a girl, his heart didn't shatter painfully into a million pieces. But at night, he still found it impossible to go to sleep before thinking of his brother. Every night, Hoya was the last thought he had.

As the brothers grew distant, their parents started to worry. Sungjong’s dad would ask him every day if he was okay; he even tried talking to Hoya about it. But Sungjong was fine really, the distance suited him and every time his parents asked after his wellbeing, he would feel guilty for worrying them unnecessarily.

His parents had given him everything he could have ever hoped for, and yet he repaid them poorly by doing something unthinkable.

To keep his mind off of these complicated emotions and to prove to his parents that he was doing fine without Hoya’s constant accompaniment, Sungjong signed up in a fraternity community run by his somewhat crazy friend, Hyosung.

Even though she was a senior, she was half as mature as him, and came up with strange ideas. And if the other members didn’t want to listen to her, which happened most of the time since all her ideas were extremely embarrassing, she would stomp her feet and break down in tears until they agreed to go by her crazy proposal.

Sungjong didn’t really mind though because he had no friends he could embarrass himself in front of. So he was Hyosung’s favorite member; he always voted for her ideas.

The latest of her absurd ideas was to celebrate National Hug Day. She proposed a free hug campaign whereby they would stand at different intersections and give passerbys free hugs.

Even Sungjong was appalled by the idea. It had happened before but he couldn’t help but put his foot down on this.

“You’re nuts,” he told her seriously, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

What ensued was the longest period of tantrum performed by a mortally upset Hyosung.

At last the group had no choice but to agree, reluctantly.

“And don’t forget to record the number of hugs you give out. The winner will receive a grand prize,” Hyosung said cheerfully.

They all looked at each other with meaningful glances. No one was really planning to go through with this idea. They were already planning their escapes.

Fortunately, Hyosung was not too bright and they could wring out of it somehow.

Sungjong however had his principles – he promised Hyosung he would go through with it and he couldn’t take back his word. Worming out of it by taking advantage of Hyosung’s dimness was dishonest – he would never walk that path.

So he decided to do it.

He had chosen an intersection nearby their house so that he could run in quickly if he felt bad or thoroughly embarrassed.

But he had no idea as he dressed that morning that his life would change forever at that very intersection on that day.