Love - Chapter 2 Part 4

The memory of their first meeting, when she had brightly smiled and held out her pinky finger, blurred over his face. Is this what they mean when they say your heart trembles? Is this what it feels like to be so happy it hurts? Even if it was a lie, it would’ve been fine. As long as she could stay by his side.

“Answer me.”

“Yeah… yeah!”

Clutching her bag, Eunhye nodded her head vigorously. Only then did Jungwoo raise his hand and gently stroke her hair. Her short bob, still unevenly cut, slipped softly through his fingers. When tears threatened to spill again at his affectionate touch, Jungwoo chided her lightly.

“Are you really going to keep crying and upset me?”

“I’m sorry… Oppa… hic… I’m sorry for crying… But I’m crying because I’m happy… I’m just so happy… Being with you makes me so happy…”

“If you’re happy, you should smile. Silly.”

Eunhye stretched her lips into a foolish grin. Jungwoo’s eyes no longer looked empty. The softness she knew so well had returned to his gaze, like starlight reflected on a lake.

“Here, eat.”

Eunhye quickly took the wooden chopsticks from him and shoveled the messy, overcooked noodles into her mouth. If I eat well, Oppa won’t be upset. She didn’t even notice there was only one bowl of food on the table for the two of them.

Eunhye was a late-blooming sixteen, older than her years in some ways and younger in others. Jungwoo was a precocious twenty, more weathered than his age should allow.

“What are you two…? If you’re runaway kids or something, eat up and get out.”

“I’m not a minor. And she’s my sister.”

The Chinese restaurant owner took half a step back under Jungwoo’s sharp gaze. Eunhye kept slurping down the overcooked jajangmyeon, completely unfazed. Watching her, Jungwoo faintly smiled as he wiped sauce from her mouth.

And just like that, he became her real brother.

On a snowy winter night in a shabby motel tucked behind the market, Jungwoo told her about his childhood for the first time.

He said he’d grown up ordinary in a middle-class home—until his father, after a failed business venture, made an irreversible choice one winter night. His father had intended to take the entire family with him when he left this world, but failed to bring his son along.

Young Jungwoo, after drinking the orange juice his father gave him, saw something fluttering outside the window. The first snow of winter. He wanted to go out and build a snowman, but his parents were locked in their bedroom, arguing as usual.

“What about our Jungwoo?! What will happen to him?!!”

“Fine, it’s my fault—then let’s all die together.”

“Jungwoo-yah… Jungwoo-yah…!”
Unaware of his father strangling his mother inside, little Jungwoo had wandered out to catch snowflakes until exhaustion overtook him. Though his hands froze stiff, he’d rather sleep on a park bench than return to that house full of screaming.

“Hey, kid! Open your eyes… Kid!”

By the time someone found him curled up under a snow-dusted jacket, the family tragedy was already over. The uncle who took him in fought constantly with his wife over the sudden burden, until they finally dumped him at an orphanage—never to visit even once.

“Oppa. Those ghosts you used to talk about… were they your parents?”

“Yeah.”

Sleep brought relentless nightmares. Dreams of his father’s hands around his throat left him drenched in sweat. His mother’s desperate cries from that night haunted him like a waking echo.

“Do you still have those dreams now?”

“Only sometimes.”

Eunhye lay sideways, meeting his eyes before whispering softly:

“Your parents aren’t your parents anymore.”

It dawned on her belatedly—Jungwoo had never once lied to her. Her heart prickled sharply again.

“You could say they’re like zombies now.”
Jungwoo, who’d given her the warm spot on the floor and now lay blanketless, smiled faintly at her through the dim light.

“Zombies?”

“Yeah. Remember all those movies we watched? Zombies don’t recognize their own children—they just attack. It’s the same thing.”

Eunhye reached out toward him. Gently covering his eyes with her palm, she continued:

“That’s how it always goes in the movies,” she murmured, her hand still covering his eyes. “Even after they’ve turned, the living can’t bring themselves to strike—because they still see the person they loved in those rotting corpses. They hesitate… and then get bitten. Become zombies too.”

Eunhye inhaled deeply, savoring the faint, comforting scent from her hand cream—the one Jungwoo had bought her before they came to this motel. It smelled sweet and gentle, just like him.

“Since you’re too softhearted to swing the axe, I’ll do it for you. No axe? I’ll use a bat. No bat? A hammer. A brick. Whatever it takes.”

In the darkness, Jungwoo’s lips curled slowly upward.

“You’re scared of everything too. How can you say things like that?”

“Being scared doesn’t mean I won’t do it.”

Jungwoo gently pulled her hand away from his face, his eyes searching hers.

“…Why?”

Eunhye blinked sleepily, her lips curling into a soft smile.

“Because I love you.”

Their first confession of love was as pure as they were.

“You’re my Oppa. My one and only real family.”

Unable to stifle a yawn, she rubbed her eyes with her hands. Jungwoo, who had been silently watching her, finally sat up and properly tucked the blanket around her.

“Go to sleep now. Tomorrow, we start moving forward.”

“Okay, Oppa.”

Downstairs, the motel owner tossed Jungwoo the blanket he’d been using himself—the cleanest one they had, he said, as he handed over the dirty bedding with a grunt.

The shabby motel, a transient shelter for those worn down by life’s hardships. Just as Eunhye, finally relaxed, began drifting into sleep, the sound of a door opening and closing in the next room cut through the quiet. As she teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, vulgar curses and the strained moans of a man and woman seeped through the thin walls.

When Eunhye stirred restlessly, Jungwoo moved closer and gently cradled her head against him. The uncomfortable, alien noises soon faded away, replaced only by the steady, resilient rhythm of her brother’s heartbeat—slow and strong.

Nestled in his arms, with his fingers tenderly combing through her hair, Eunhye slept soundly and sweetly. Though the place was unfamiliar and loud, with Jungwoo beside her, she felt neither fear nor unease.

It was simply… good.

Good to have someone bound to her by the name family.

Good to no longer be alone.

At the time, Jungwoo was only twenty.