Good Night, Brother!

“‘Having a younger sibling is just a hassle.’

Thirteen-year-old Eun-hyun thought this as she gazed up at the sky, where dusk was beginning to settle. Her jet-black eyes followed the peach-colored clouds drifting slowly along the currents. Even the clouds, endlessly flowing somewhere, seemed to betray her mood.

She bit her lip in frustration and pressed the toe of her sneaker into the neatly kept flowerbed soil, grinding it stubbornly. A nurse from the pediatric ward, passing by, noticed her actions and gave her a gentle admonition.

‘That hurts the trees.’

‘…’

Eun-hyun, no longer just a little child, cautiously watched the nurse’s reaction to see if she was an easy adult to manipulate. The nurse skillfully pulled a soft candy out of her pocket and held it out to Eun-hyun.

‘Eat this and leave the tree alone, okay?’

An easy adult, huh? Eun-hyun inwardly scoffed but outwardly put on a naive face as she took the candy. She had been planning to defiantly dig at the ground again in front of the nurse, but her plan was foiled when the nurse gently patted her head. The warmth of the nurse’s palm ruffling her hair felt unexpectedly pleasant—something Eun-hyun hadn’t experienced much since gaining a younger sibling.

The patting somehow defused her annoyance. Giving up on her flowerbed mischief, Eun-hyun hopped over the low fence and returned to the sidewalk. The nurse smiled brightly, as if to say ‘good job,’ and waved as she walked away.

Eun-hyun tapped her shoe against the ground to shake off the dirt before looking up to see her mother, Lee Ji-min, emerging from the hospital entrance. Beside her stood Jeong Hi-Hyeon, holding her hand with a blank expression.

Jeong Hi-Hyeon, who lost both parents in a car accident last month.
Jeong Hi-Hyeon, who developed selective mutism because of it.
Jeong Hi-Hyeon, five years younger than me.

And now, Jeong Hi-Hyeon, who had become my little brother.

No description of Hi-Hyeon sat well with Eun-hyun. Not his pale skin, stark against his jet-black hair and eyes. Not his delicate features. Not even his silence, which she suspected was a ploy for attention. She found herself wondering if a few hits might break through his tightly shut lips.

Fueled by this irrational irritation, Eun-hyun bolted toward her mother, throwing herself into her embrace. Ji-min gently but firmly pushed her away.

‘Oh my, Eun-hyun. What’s gotten into you? That’s unlike you,’ her mother said with a hint of exasperation.

Thirteen years old—a time when children start rebelling but still yearn for parental attention. Feeling rejected by her mother, Eun-hyun’s resentment shifted to Hi-Hyeon. With a huff, she puffed out her cheeks and pushed him. Standing still like a statue, Hi-Hyeon toppled over, rolling onto the ground.

‘Oh my goodness! Jeong Eun-hyun, what are you doing?’ Ji-min exclaimed, alarmed.

Neither her indifferent mother nor the expressionless Hi-Hyeon pleased Eun-hyun in the slightest. Ji-min quickly knelt to help Hi-Hyeon up, brushing dirt off his clothes with concern.

‘Are you okay, Hi-Hyeon? Did you get hurt?’

Hi-Hyeon simply nodded in response, his expression unreadable.

‘If I nod silently, I’m called rude,’ Eun-hyun thought bitterly.

Even though she knew Hi-Hyeon’s mutism was due to trauma, everything about him irked her.

Ji-min shot Eun-hyun a stern look. ‘We’ll talk when we get home, Jeong Eun-hyun.’

At home, Eun-hyun endured a scolding from her furious mother and had her smartphone confiscated for the evening. Her father, Jeong Chae-hyun, returned from work later and told her to treat her younger brother better.

Ever since Hi-Hyeon arrived, nothing seemed to go right.

Hi-Hyeon had originally been the son of Chae-hyun’s close friend, Joo Tae-ho. The two men had been inseparable since kindergarten, attending the same schools up through high school and even sharing family vacations.

When Tae-ho tragically lost both parents during his third year of medical school, Chae-hyun’s family stepped in to support him as one of their own. Years later, when Tae-ho married, Chae-hyun’s parents stood as his family during the wedding. Tae-ho, grateful for their bond, had named his son Hi-Hyeon with the same generational syllable as Eun-hyun, hoping their children would grow up as close as siblings.

But now, they actually were siblings—at least on paper.

After the accident that took his parents, seven-year-old Hi-Hyeon came to live with Eun-hyun’s family. His mutism, coupled with his fair skin and solemn demeanor, made him a figure of pity for many, but to Eun-hyun, he was a nuisance.

At the funeral, Eun-hyun had heard Hi-Hyeon crying softly at night, a sound that strangely touched her heart. But being only twelve at the time, she didn’t know how to comfort him.

Now, a year later, Hi-Hyeon’s mutism had improved thanks to therapy. But for Eun-hyun, his constant attempts to engage her felt suffocating.

One afternoon, as Eun-hyun lay on the couch engrossed in her game, Hi-Hyeon called out, ‘Hyung, hyung.’

Hi-Hyeon always called her twice.”

“‘Hyung, hyung.’

‘…….’

‘Hyung, hyung?’

‘…….’

‘Hyung, hyuuunng—’

No matter how much he was ignored, Hi-Hyeon never gave up. Pretending not to hear, Eun-Hyun finally pressed the pause button on his game and responded irritably.

‘Ugh, what? Why do you keep calling me?’

‘Hyung, I don’t understand this problem. Can you help me?’

Hi-Hyeon handed over a division problem. Holding back his irritation, Eun-Hyun patiently explained how to divide 78 by 6, walking him through the solution. Watching Hi-Hyeon carefully write down the answer, 13, with sparkling eyes made him feel a surprising sense of pride.

‘Wow, Hyung, you’re really smart.’

‘Hmph.’

Eun-Hyun’s grades were only slightly above average in his class, but solving a two-digit division problem for his younger brother made him puff out his chest with pride. Feeling generous, he said magnanimously:

‘If you don’t know something, just ask me.’

‘Okay! Thanks, Hyung!’

Hi-Hyeon smiled brightly, revealing a gap where one of his baby teeth had fallen out. The sight was so endearing that Eun-Hyun chuckled softly.

It wasn’t until much later that he learned his little brother won the top prize in the school math competition that year.

It was a stormy winter night with thunder and lightning flashing across the sky.

Boom! Crack!

The deafening thunder startled even Eun-Hyun, who usually slept through anything. As lightning lit up his dark room, a small shadow flickered at the edge of his vision.

‘What was that? Did I just see something?’

Another flash revealed the shadow again, now much closer. It wasn’t a mistake—something was definitely there, right in front of him.

‘Ahhh! What the hell?! What is it?!’

He grabbed a pillow, ready to throw it, when the “ghost” spoke.

‘Hyung….’

It was Hi-Hyeon. Realizing he had mistaken his little brother for a ghost, Eun-Hyun flushed with embarrassment and snapped.

‘Ugh, Jeong Hi-Hyeon! You scared me!’

‘Hyung… I’m scared. The thunder keeps rumbling, and the lightning is flashing… I’m scared.’

Scared? I was more scared because of you.

Relieved that it wasn’t a ghost, Eun-Hyun switched on the bedside lamp. Hi-Hyeon stood clutching a pillow, his large eyes brimming with tears that hadn’t yet fallen.

‘Hyung, can I sleep here? Please? I’m too scared….’

If you’re that scared, why didn’t you go to Mom and Dad’s room? Why did you cross the living room to come here? Eun-Hyun thought irritably but couldn’t bring himself to dismiss his trembling, teary-eyed little brother.

‘Fine….’

Sighing, Eun-Hyun sat up on the bed and added, ‘You take the bed. I’ll sleep on the floor.’

‘N-no… I want to sleep together. Please?’

Seeing his little brother shake his head and plead, Eun-Hyun relented. Lifting a corner of the blanket, he scooted over.

‘Alright, come here.’

As if worried he’d change his mind, Hi-Hyeon climbed into the bed immediately, setting his pillow in place. Snuggling into his brother’s side, his small, warm body radiated heat. Eun-Hyun let out a tiny sigh, making sure Hi-Hyeon didn’t hear it, and turned off the lamp.

The thunderstorm had calmed by then, leaving only the sound of rain tapping against the window. Though he was annoyed, Eun-Hyun wasn’t heartless enough to kick his little brother out. Instead, he grumbled lightly:

‘You’re going to be ten soon. Why are you still scared of thunder and lightning?’

‘…….’

‘If your friends find out, they’ll call you a coward, you know?’

‘…….’

Hi-Hyeon said nothing, only gripping Eun-Hyun’s pinky with his small, trembling hand.

‘Wait… what day is it today? December….’

Their parents’ death anniversary was approaching.

Sigh.

Eun-Hyun let out a deep breath through his nose, gently patting Hi-Hyeon’s round little head. Within minutes, his brother’s breathing slowed into the steady rhythm of sleep.

From that night on, whenever a heavy rainstorm hit in winter, Hi-Hyeon would bring his pillow to Eun-Hyun’s room.

When Hi-Hyeon turned ten, he was identified as a dominant Alpha through a pheromone test.

With his striking good looks, sharp intellect, and natural athleticism, it wasn’t surprising that he was an Alpha. However, in a family where both parents and his older brother were Betas, Hi-Hyeon’s Alpha status felt slightly out of place.

Because of this, Hi-Hyeon had to learn how to control his pheromones—opening and closing them, regulating the flow and intensity—all on his own. Fortunately, as a dominant Alpha, he adapted quickly to his unique traits.

One day, as usual, Hi-Hyeon was glued to Eun-Hyun’s side, sitting on the sofa. Swinging his legs back and forth, he suddenly spoke up.

‘Hyung, hyung.’

‘What?’

‘Do you feel anything?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘My pheromones. Don’t you feel anything? Does it smell like anything?’

Eun-Hyun paused his game, lowered his phone to his lap, and sniffed the air. He couldn’t smell anything.

‘Nope, nothing. There’s no smell.’

‘Really? My friends said I smell like a forest….’

‘I’m a Beta. I can’t sense that stuff.’