Chapter 6

It's not the end.

A ringing in my ears echoed.

“...Patient Jung Hyun-oh has stomach cancer. It has metastasized to the heart, pancreas, and duodenum. We tried chemotherapy, but it was ineffective. After that, he said he didn’t want to stay in the hospital, so he only came to pick up medication occasionally.”

This can't be true. It must be a lie.

The doctor was saying something, but I couldn't pull myself together. I was the only one left in the hospital room.

I thought he was just working too hard, even though he had lost weight and his complexion had worsened. Why didn't I realize it?

The strange actions of my brother started to fit together like a puzzle.

The first time we met in front of the hospital.

The talk of studying abroad he brought up like a shield from the beginning.

The suggestion to be music friends for a limited time.

The memory of him sending me home, saying he had a sudden urgent appointment.

The makeup he never forgot to apply, even when he was resting.

The way he would slip away to the bathroom right after eating.

The days when he was too busy to meet for long periods.

My brother's overly enthusiastic behavior about recording our songs...

Why didn't I think it was strange? Why didn't I figure it out earlier with all the clues?

“...Lee Won-a.”

My brother's weak voice echoed in my ears.

“Brother!”

A flood of emotions overwhelmed me. My vision blurred with tears. Tears poured down, making it hard to see my brother's face.

I couldn't believe it. I couldn't handle this situation.

“Lee Won-a. I'm sorry... I didn't want to tell you, but it seems you found out.”

My brother, who had taken off the oxygen mask, struggled to sit up and smiled awkwardly.

“Why didn't you tell me? Why!”

Did you not trust me? What could I have done, even if I knew, as someone who couldn't be your caregiver?

“...I was afraid you'd be hurt. I thought if I pretended to study abroad, you could hope I was living well somewhere. But I collapsed too quickly. If I had known, I wouldn't have become friends with you. I'm sorry. I was selfish.”

“Why do you always think of others until the end!”

My voice became even more terrible than usual. It was as if all the help my brother had given me was for nothing.

“Just... just like this. I'm like this. I don't want to hurt anyone until the end. I wish no one knew I was gone. That's why I didn't tell our members. It's a failed perfect crime, two weeks short.”

My brother had a meticulous plan to cut off all paths that would reveal his death.

With a remaining life of six to nine months, he planned to tidy everything up six months later and pretend to leave for overseas while entering a hospice.

He had even prepared a place to be buried.

My brother took deep breaths in between. My heart sank.

“Sending letters regularly on the scheduled dates would make it perfect.”

Seeing my brother talk about his death so casually made my throat tighten.

How can you do that? Why are you so calm? How can you bear the death alone?

You can confide in someone, cry together, and receive farewells from people you want to see.

“I'm scared...”

“I'm not scared. You wrote those lyrics, didn't you? Don't be afraid of a new beginning. Even that was an arrangement for me.”

Those lyrics were meant to bless my brother's new start...

“I hate that I didn't notice.”

“I hid it so well. I deceived everyone except you. I'm a professional liar.”

“What if your friends find out later?”

Wouldn't they be more shocked later? They wouldn't even get to say goodbye. I almost sent my brother off without knowing anything.

“So I wanted them to never know. It's the conclusion I came to after much thought.”

“Why go that far...”

If I think about it objectively, my brother's plan had a high chance of success. If no one knew and there was a reason for the lack of contact...

And if he continued to send regular messages?

They might feel sad and miss him but eventually accept it.

It was a problem with no right or wrong answer, no clear solution.

Should I respect my brother's opinion? Is that the right choice?

“Did you bring my phone? I want to make some calls.”

My brother, with the phone in hand, called his friends, pretending that his study abroad plans had been moved up and he was leaving suddenly.

He said he was on his way to the airport, that he would be out of touch for a while, and joked that no news was good news.

“...Take care. See you later.”

After a few calls, my brother started going through his contacts again.

“Mr. Lawyer, if you have time, can you come to the place where I can send the text? I want to modify my will.”

Will?

Seeing my brother, who was handling things so professionally despite the emotional paralysis, felt strange.

My brother's expressionless face, without a single tear, made my chest feel tight and suffocated.

Isn't my brother upset about this situation? Has he already prepared his heart?

“Just cry, brother...”

“I feel it. I feel that the time I have left is really short. There's no time to drag it out.”

* * *

In front of the lawyer who came to the hospital, my brother revised his will.

I couldn't bear to watch and went outside the room, crouching in the hallway.

My father, who rushed to the hospital, stayed with my brother in the room.

My father was shocked by the unbelievable news but remained composed.

Can adults do that? Am I just too young to keep my composure?

My father, with a sympathetic look, spoke.

“Lee Won-a. Think about what kind of face you want to say goodbye with. What kind of face would Hyun-oh want to see?”

My brother would want me to be strong and happy without him.

And I...

* * *

I didn't have the luxury of time to compose myself.

After finishing the will, my brother's condition rapidly deteriorated.

Before I could do anything, my brother lost consciousness. The doctor said his organs were failing and we should prepare ourselves.

“He was talking just a little while ago!”

The doctor sighed and said he wasn't in a state to talk even then.

The pain must have been immense even with the painkillers. If it didn't show, he must have been holding it in.

Time passed mercilessly, and it was uncertain whether he would wake up again.

Then, in the quiet of the early morning, my brother woke up.

My parents and I sat by his side, holding his hand. The coldness of his hand reminded me that death was near.

“Brother, are you awake?”

My brother, who was making a wheezing sound through the oxygen mask, blinked and looked around. Seeing my father, mother, and me, he smiled and reached out his hand toward my face.

A moisture I didn't realize was there clung to my cheek where my brother's fingertips touched.

“...Don't worry about me, brother. I'll get through this. And I agree. This isn't the end.”

It's a temporary farewell for a new beginning, right?

My brother faintly smiled and closed his heavy eyelids.

“...See you again, brother.”

Beep?

* * *

The doctor and nurses rushed in but didn't take any action, removing the lines connected to his body. Because my brother had refused life support. He was thorough to the end.

My brother, declared dead, looked peaceful under the white sheet.

For the first time in my life, I cried until my throat ached.

I didn't care about the nurse who occasionally glanced at my sobs or the mother who hugged me to comfort me. I let out all my grief.

* * *

The cold winter wind chilled my body. No, it was the absence of my brother that tore out my heart.

To leave so futilely, so suddenly, without any preparation.

My brother was the first person I could call a friend.

I stood in front of the silver magnolia where my brother was buried.

Even though it's still cold winter, in autumn, this silver magnolia will remind me of my brother with its subtle fragrance.

The large silver magnolia on the low hill was a tree prepared by my parents for our family.

I didn't expect my brother to be the first guest...

The colorful flowers and the sign with my brother's name, leaning against the tree, made his death feel real.

That my brother was under this tree. That I really had to say goodbye to him.

There was a song I wanted to sing to my brother before he left. This song has no meaning unless I sing it.

I am the only one who can sing this song, a gift to my brother, who was my friend, my benefactor, and my soulmate.

I never imagined that my first song, sung with this terrible voice, would be a memorial song.

Did my brother know that the song I wrote for him would be used like this?

No, he didn't. When I gave him this song, he was still trying to hide his illness and leave.

My parents left to give us a moment for our final farewell. I was alone under the silver magnolia.

“Even if you don't want to hear my voice, listen, brother. This song is about you.”

I started playing the guitar and began to sing.

“Like a coincidence or fate...”

I had to stop after just one line. My voice felt strange.

I thought it was just a hallucination. Maybe it was because I hadn't sung in a while, or because of the shock affecting my hearing.

“...Having walked a dark mountain path, the approaching dawn is even more moving. Loneliness can't stop you...”

My voice was changing in real time. The noise disappeared, and the tone gradually became clearer. After a few more lines, I was sure.

My voice had changed to my brother's voice.

I started the song again from the beginning, trying to hold back the tears.

With all my effort. With all my heart.

It felt like my brother was singing to me.

“Remember, no matter what name, there is someone who wishes for your happiness...”

The change was too clear to be a hallucination. I tried a few times, and even the speaking tone was different.

It was a lower pitch than my brother's, but it could pass as his. The singing voice was exactly the same.

It couldn't be explained scientifically. A deformed vocal cord producing the same sound as my brother's.

I just knew. I realized I had my brother's voice.

Until the very end, my brother gave me a burdensome gift.

Getting my brother's voice was not a coincidence.

At least, I believed so.

“I couldn't do anything... Why, brother...”

Emotions welled up, making it hard to breathe.

I wanted to sing the song properly, but I couldn't.

A massive wave of grief, guilt, and a tiny bit of joy and self-reproach mixed together, pressing on my throat.

The emotions I couldn't express through my voice came out through my eyes. Tears streamed down, blurring my vision.

It felt like my tear ducts were broken. No matter how many times I wiped them, the tears kept flowing. Sobs escaped through my teeth.

I didn't know how to handle these emotions. I just let them out without caring about anything.

After a long while, I finally lifted my head and looked at the silver magnolia where my brother was buried.

“Brother, why did you give me your voice? What do you want me to do? Tell me...”

If my brother could tell me, I would follow without any hesitation. The truth that he couldn't was frustrating.

No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't reach him anymore.