Work Text:
May 21st, 2016
—
Nothing extraordinary had ever happened when Han-Seo went home for the weekend. Aside from his father’s death two months ago.
Han-Seok had long since gone back to Stanford. He’d stayed for the funeral, he’d gone on a daytrip with Han-Seo, and he’d got Haemun in trusted hands. Then he’d left. He told Han-Seo he’d come back after he graduated from law school in June.
Han-Seo had been making good on his drunken promise to send his brother memes at ungodly hours of the night. Mostly, they were about uni students drowning in work. Han-Seo was getting his PharmD done at SKKU, and the effort he put in had sucked the life out of him ages ago. Abeoji had tried convincing him to go into business, even demanded so outright, but Han-Seok had done the impossible and gotten the man to back down. That was five years ago. That was the first time Han-Seok had ever done something for him and not asked for something in return. Han-Seo would later learn that a ‘Dr. Jones’, Han-Seok’s psychologist, had been talking about how relationships were cultivated. How loyalty and support systems were built. Despite the creeping awareness of Han-Seok’s lack of genuine love for him, Han-Seo was grateful Han-Seok was bothering to act decent at all.
—
Today, something out of the ordinary happened. Han-Seo had been on the train home, headphones in, YouTube open, expecting nothing. A young woman, probably a few years older than him, took a seat next to him. When Han-Seo’s phone battery died and he took his headphones out, the woman spoke to him. Asked where he was headed. Just small talk. Which, in itself, was uncommon here.
Han-Seo told her he was headed home, to Seoul, and tried to leave the conversation at that. But not, apparently she also lived in Seoul, and thought it would be a fine thing if they kept chatting. Either she wanted something, or someone had put her up to this as a joke.
Regardless, Han-Seo actually found himself enjoying the conversation. He learned that her name was Park Ji-Yeon, she was 27, and a professor of art history at Ewha Woman’s University. Han-Seo found himself liking her enough that he gave her his phone number. She seemed quite pleased with herself.
—
June 12th
The next time the two meet in person, it is at a cafe after Han-Seo’s last final. And they are on a date. All it took was a few phone calls and a long thread of text messages.
Han-Seo finds himself enamoured with her. The feeling seems mutual.
Ji-Yeon relates an anecdote of one of her more humorous students. Han-Seo listens with rapt attention.
After they’ve ordered their food—pastries and sweet teas—Han-Seo asks if Ji-Yeon has any siblings.
“Yeah, I’ve got an older sister. Well, step-sister really; her mom married my dad.”
“That’s nice; I’ve got an older half-brother.”
Ji-Yeon laughs. “What if we set them up?”
Han-Seo smiles, shaking his head. “Nah, I don’t think Han-Seok is capable of having a girlfriend.”
“Really? My sister, her name’s Ae-Cha by the way, goes through boyfriends like crazy. I swear, she just loves to make men suffer as much as possible when they’re with her.”
“That’s… not concerning at all. My brother loves messing with people too actually, but he’s focused on his studies right now, thank God.”
Han-Seo takes a bite of his croissant and tries to picture Han-Seok and this faceless woman named Ae-Cha verbally sizing each other up; two predators thinking they’re facing prey.
The subject is dropped as easily as it came up, and Ji-Yeon talks about the latest novel she’s been reading. She talks fast, happy to info-dump, and Han-Seo admires the sparkle in her eyes.
—
June 25th
One date turns into two, two turns into three, and by the fourth, they’re officially dating.
When Han-Seo tells Han-Seok about this, it is over a phone call during the older brother’s stopover in Italy. The topic is nearly brushed over with how subtly Han-Seo threw it in.
Han-Seok notices of course. He circles back to it two minutes later and turns a simple conversation into an interrogation.
What’s her name? Where’s she from? What does she do for work? Did you run a background check?
Han-Seo endures maybe ten unnecessary (in his opinion) questions about this “suspicious new character” in his life. Han-Seok had always been possessive of him, controlling. Han-Seo hadn’t pushed back much in childhood…mostly because when he did, any new friend he had made would end up hurt or thoroughly humiliated. Now though, Han-Seo cuts off his brother’s eleventh question and tells him to save the rest for later and kindly congratulate him.
To Han-Seo’s surprise, Han-Seok actually does so after a momentary pause. And then immediately moves on to informing Han-Seo of his flight details for the day after tomorrow.
Han-Seo is both anxious and happy about his brother’s return. Happy to see him, anxious to know his plans. Han-Seok had pulled strings and gotten someone with a concerning amount of loyalty to their family into the chairman position at Haemun. For someone who supposedly met with his father regularly, Han-Seo hasn’t a clue who this person is. When asked about it, Han-Seok responds with a casual “Don’t worry about it,” and Han-Seo worries.
He hates corporate stuff, sure, but Han-Seo doesn’t worry about Haemun’s future, no. He worries about the amount of crimes he’s certain Han-Seok is going to commit while holding a big, established company in his hands. Heaven knows what legal loopholes Han-Seo’s snake-lawyer of a brother has already jumped through.
Han-Seo wonders how much he’ll affiliate himself with Haemun in the future. Han-Seok has already offered to have the company fund Han-Seo’s PhD research, and have him work in R&D under their best scientists. The offer is tempting. Maybe in five or six years’ time, Han-Seo could head the department.
—
June 27th
When Han-Seok summons his brother to pick him up from the airport, it is two a.m. Needless to say, Han-Seo is less than pleased. He takes his petty revenge by conveniently falling back asleep and arriving at the airport half an hour late.
Han-Seok proceeds to scare his sleep-addled mind silly when he pulls Han-Seo into a hug and depicts a murder method for tardy people right into his ear.
“…Good to see you too, Hyung-nim.”
Sometimes, Han-Seo forgets that his brother was once diagnosed a psychopath. When he does, he is reminded of it at the worst times. Sure, “psychopath” is not a clinical label, and that psychiatrist later ended up in the news as a “quack pysch”, but digression aside, Han-Seo is tired and a tad spooked.
Han-Seok, on the other hand, has miraculously avoided the jetlag that so often has him in a chokehold upon return to Korea, and he snatches Han-Seo’s car keys.
The younger man doesn’t protest, instead falling asleep in the passenger seat of his own car within five minutes.
Han-Seok wakes him upon arrival at the family home, and Han-Seo, refreshed from his nap, drags his brother into conversation. He asks about everything from California to Rome, and Han-Seok tolerates it until all of his luggage is unpacked. Then he tells his brother to get out of his room. To which Han-Seo resolutely refuses.
This is how Han-Seok ends up with his bothersome baby brother sprawled across his bed, hugging his pillow, and poking his side.
Han-Seok is under the impression that Han-Seo must be incredibly tired to be acting this way with him of all people. Or high. Though he doesn’t look high.
Han-Seok seizes his wrist with a sudden, rough motion, and Han-Seo stills completely, face sobering immediately. He still doesn’t make to leave. Slowly, he pulls his wrist free of Han-Seok’s grasp and slinks out of the room.
Han-Seok watches him disappear around the corner before laying down.
—
June 28th
Han-Seok wakes up to the feeling of someone staring at him. Sure enough, he turns around to see Han-Seo next to his bed.
“...Are you supposed to be my sleep paralysis demon?”
Han-Seo doesn’t dignify that with a response, content to walk away as if he hadn’t just left his brother disturbed at 7 in the morning.
In retrospect, it is karma for the time Han-Seok did the same to him the day before he left for California in April.
—
Breakfast was a quiet affair until Han-Seok asked, “So, when do I get to meet her?”
In momentary confusion, Han-Seo asks who. Han-Seok doesn’t even answer, just looks at him with raised brows, expectant.
“Ah. Right.”
“…Well?”
Han-Seo stalls answering with a tactical mouthful of rice.
“…We’ll see.”
“I hope it’s soon; I’d love to know what kind of lady has managed to capture my sweet dongsaeng’s heart.” Han-Seok’s smile is small, creepy, and teasing. It’s unnerving, in Han-Seo’s humble opinion.
“Right. Soon.”
It would be in Ji-Yeon’s best interests for Han-Seo to give her every possible scenario meeting Han-Seok could entail. The most likely of which being a slow dissection of her intentions and then her psyche itself.
Han-Seo wonders, briefly, if Ji-Yeon’s sister has anything in common with Han-Seok.
And in another part of Korea, Hong Ae-Cha is cutting into someone with a scalpel, a blank expression on her face as the doctors around her remain tense and nervous in a focused manner.
—
Ji-Yeon is making lunch when her sister arrives home.
“Hey Unnie. How was your morning?”
“Bothersome. It’s supposed to be my day off. I should’ve let that man die; not my problem he jumped out a window.”
“…Unnie, the news says he did it to escape a fire…”
“So?”
“…Never mind. I can’t be bothered today.”
Ae-Cha perches her glasses on her head and takes a cup of tea from the counter next to Ji-Yeon. She drinks slowly, deliberate even in the most simple of things.
“I should care, shouldn’t I?”
“You should at least keep your uncaring thoughts in your head or written somewhere no one should find them,” Ji-Yeon responds carefully.
“When did you become my therapist, huh?”
“When your actual therapist somehow decided you were fine and said you didn’t need to keep coming in.”
The response is so frank, Ae-Cha momentarily considers telling Ji-Yeon off and reminding the young woman she has no psychology background. She doesn’t bother.
Ae-Cha supposes, sometimes, she should consider herself lucky. Lucky to have a sister who puts up with her despite how absolutely awful Ae-Cha is with affection. Despite how morbid she can be. Despite how…insane she can seem. Ae-Cha herself sincerely doubts she’ll meet another person to accept the lacking humanity within her, regardless of how good she acts, trying so hard to fit in at least a little with society on a near daily basis.