He was quiet for a little bit then said, “Go check whatever you’re cooking. I don’t want a fire.”

            “Oh, yes, uh, just come out here. I’m sure the fried rice is done.”

            He walked out of his room and sat on the couch. He the TV, looking for something funny probably.

            The rice was done so I took out a bowl for him and served him. I went back in the kitchen to clean up.

            “Explain the crying.”

            “It’s Seomin. He called. And we got into a fight like always and then he brought up Mom. . .” I took a deep breath and went to clean the counter. If I didn’t want to cry, I needed to be distracted. “Our mom died. . . It was my fault.”

            “How?” he asked.

           Some people might think this was flat out rude but this was the only way I could talk about my problems. When Junhyung left seven years ago, I kept everything inside. When he was around, he would make me talk about it. I guess this is what happens when I keep too quiet. . .

            “She got sick but after a couple years she got better. But then the medical debt piled up and she got sick again because of the stress. So I had to take her to the hospital. I hadn’t really been driving that long but there wasn’t a lot of traffic so my mom let me drive. We got to a stop sign but instead of hitting the break, I hit the accelerator and a car hit on my mom’s side. . .” Everything started to blur again so I wiped my eyes.

            “So how is everything now? Do you need money to pay off the debt and the accident?” He turned off the TV and was talking like my brother should have been.

            “No, before Seomin left he helped me pay off the medical and I paid off the accident by the time graduation came.”

            “You make me proud to know you, Maeji. After everything you’ve been through, I should be the dongsaeng.”

            I sniffled a bit and looked at him. “No, you should still be the oppa. You’re still older than me and you’re still in a better position than me. Are you done?”

           He handed me his bowl and I washed it then put it in the dishwasher. “At least your voice is fine,” I told him. I went back to where he was laying on the couch and put my hand on his forehead. “Wow, you’re really hot!”

            “Tell me something I don’t know.” He winked.

            “No, I mean your temperature. Go in your room and lay down.”

            He went inside his room and I went into the bathroom and grabbed a washcloth and filled a bowl with cold water. I brought that into his room and dipped the washcloth in the water and put it on his forehead.

            “Thanks,” he said.

            “You sound stuffy, one second.” I brought back tissues and a trash bag and set them in his room then made him some tea.

            “Thank you,” he said.

            “Don’t thank me yet,” I told him and put another pillow underneath him so he wasn’t laying flat. “Do you need anything else?”

            “No.”

            “Okay, well I’ll be out there if you need me.”

            “Wait, stay in here. I don’t want you to start crying again. I know you don’t cry in front of people, or at least don’t like to.”

            “But–”

            “I am ill, Maeji.” He said dramatically.

            “And?”

            “You make me happy, and if you’re in here, I know I’ll feel better.”

            I smiled. “Fine.” I sat at the edge of his bed.