20.
One could never know when or how an ability would manifest.
It simply appeared suddenly, and one had to adapt to that change on their own.
All on their own.
“Not long after my younger sibling’s appearance changed, word reached me that they were being continuously bullied by their classmates.
After our parents passed away in an accident, the children started playing pranks because of the change my sibling underwent—that was how it was explained.”
“Pranks?”
Pranks. Yuna had heard similar words before.
Because their appearance was different, because they looked different from us, they called it pranks. Just pranks.
“The school said they would handle it, but honestly, I didn’t believe them.
I could tell they wouldn’t deal with it properly.
I could tell from their laughter.”
“…So.”
“Doing what I could for my sibling when they came home was all I could do.
Even when I got angry at the school, they didn’t listen much because I was young and went as my sibling’s guardian.
Even if I played the guitar to heal my sibling, it couldn’t have an effect in a situation that kept repeating endlessly.
Perhaps we both knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t last long.”
Watching their sibling gradually grow exhausted.
Taeyeon was growing exhausted by that sight as well.
How long would this continue?
Would they have to transfer schools?
Could they even transfer?
Could telling someone solve this?
Could that truly be called a solution?
Among countless worries, no answer emerged.
“Even telling relatives couldn’t become a solution.
What came back was always the sight of my bullied sibling and the school’s cursory handling.
I did hear that it needed to be handled properly, but no one knew when that would happen.
Perhaps they were preparing to do so, but my sibling—Seoyeon—had no time.”
21.
A rainy day.
Taeyeon was walking toward where his sibling was.
It was raining quite heavily.
While walking and worrying about what to do from now on, he saw his sibling up ahead.
Just as he was about to call their name.
“…Seoyeon, ah?”
Taeyeon looked into his sibling’s eyes.
He also saw where those eyes were directed.
His sibling’s eyes were looking to the side.
A car racing down the wet road.
Their body moved slowly.
Running toward Taeyeon, then slipping on the rainwater, straight onto the road.
“…”
‘Sorry.’
They had said those words quietly.
Taeyeon felt as if those words had been spoken, as if they had been said to him.
It wasn’t the time to judge whether those words had truly been spoken or if he had merely imagined them.
An accident occurred, and before Taeyeon’s eyes, his sibling died.
“…”
The umbrella fell.
Strength left the hand holding it.
Slowly, slowly, he approached.
There was a lot of blood.
The blood flowed with the rainwater, drifting somewhere.
He called for help, and though he could see the paramedics who arrived speaking, their voices didn’t reach him.
He simply stood in the rain, looking at the scene before him.
22.
“My sibling gave up on everything.
They couldn’t endure it any longer.
Because it wouldn’t end.
Someone had said it would end if they waited, but that end never came.
They gave up on everything.”
Taeyeon closed his eyes.
He had never told this story to anyone.
He had never spoken in detail about his sibling’s death.
He hadn’t spoken of everything he saw and heard.
“What about the car in the accident?”
“It became an unfortunate accident on a day of heavy rain.
There was nothing we could do at that scene.
It simply ended as a single tragedy.”
Everything ended with death.
Both the “pranks” suffered at school, and the school’s failure to respond properly.
Taeyeon heard about the proceedings but didn’t properly see any of it.
He didn’t try to see.
“I worried a lot about what to do after my parents’ accident, but not long after, another incident occurred and I quit everything I was doing.
Both the dreams I pursued and everything I laughed about and enjoyed.
After sending it all away like that, all that remained was one guitar I couldn’t throw away.”
It was a guitar Taeyeon had once received as a birthday gift.
It was the guitar that allowed him to manifest his ability.
It was a guitar that, when played, let everyone spend joyful time smiling together.
The picture frame contained family photos, and the guitar contained memories with his family.
“I couldn’t throw it away.
Because if I threw it away, I would truly be alone.
Because I thought I might make the same choice as them.”
Taeyeon looked at the park.
That spot where he always played.
“Normally, I might not have come here either.
Because it was where the tragedy occurred, yet I ended up coming anyway.
Even if I tried to avoid that day’s tragedy, this place was ultimately my final destination.”
The last place where he had directly seen his sibling.
That was why he couldn’t help but come.
23.
He was spending days crumbling away.
He spent time worrying about what he could do, what he should do.
He spent time avoiding like that.
“…”
What Taeyeon saw was the park.
People laughing and chatting.
People simply resting in the park.
And himself, having lost his light, not knowing what to do.
Holding the guitar he had stopped playing, Taeyeon quietly gazed at the park.
There were memories in the park too.
Small as they were, there had been times spent together here.
There had been times when he smiled along with smiling people here too.
“…May I ask one thing?”
The reason Taeyeon chose this park.
At first, it was because he didn’t want to forget.
Even though he felt he would collapse if he saw it again, he didn’t want to forget that memory.
Even if it was just a very brief fragment, he wanted to embrace it again.
“That was the beginning.
Then, as I continued to play and saw people coming to the park, I gained a new goal.
If I could heal those people with my ability, I hoped that by doing so, they wouldn’t live a life of regret like mine.
…Though I myself haven’t been able to do that.”
Taeyeon smiled bitterly.
Yuna took Taeyeon’s hand.
“I found my light thanks to you, oppa.
I struggled with bullying, but even so, I gained strength listening to you play here.
So, I’ll share the light I received with you.”
Taeyeon stared at Yuna.
He was thinking about what he should say.
In the end, no answer came out.
Taeyeon simply smiled at Yuna.
That was all.
24.
Yuna’s face was burning red right now.
While listening to Taeyeon’s past, to the story about his family, she had ended up blurting it out.
When Yuna had been struggling, she had gained strength listening to Taeyeon’s playing, and though she truly wanted to do something for the exhausted Taeyeon, she hadn’t thought there was anything she could actually do—yet she had ended up blurting it out.
“I still need some time to compose myself, but still, well.
I’m thinking of playing something small.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.
Because I have someone by my side telling me they’ll share their light with me.”
Looking at the embarrassed Yuna, Taeyeon let out a brief laugh.
Taeyeon touched the guitar.
He touched the guitar within a heart crumbling from his sibling’s death.
Surely there were people who worried for him, people who tried to be there for him.
Taeyeon himself had turned away from them.
He had lived avoiding them.
Because it felt like his heart would crumble completely.
He thought about what he should do to stop avoiding what he had been avoiding.
“Getting close, approaching a little closer, would be a good method, I suppose.”
“Huh?”
“It was something I said to myself.
Just thinking about what I should do from now on.”
He hadn’t told anyone.
He had borne it all alone.
Thinking that perhaps that had been the problem, Taeyeon plucked the guitar strings.
The sound of a very small performance drifted through the park.
25.
He had always felt depressed when coming home.
Today, a slightly different feeling was emerging.
Taeyeon picked up the picture frame and set it straight.
He gazed at the photo of four smiling people.
“After the accident, many things happened.
I was turning away from and avoiding everything myself.
But I’ve only now realized that I shouldn’t have done that.
I should have leaned on someone, sincerely confessed to someone about myself, but I didn’t have the courage.”
Taeyeon had met a girl at the park.
Though brief, that meeting had shown Taeyeon a certain light.
“I know it’s still far off, but I’m thinking of changing bit by bit.
It definitely won’t be easy.
Even so.”
Recalling the high school girl who had smiled at him, who had said she would share her light with him, Taeyeon picked up the guitar with a smile.
“I was able to feel the mood of that time again after so long.
A feeling as if everyone was here.”
He played the guitar, smiling.
There was no audience.
But there was an audience.
One that wouldn’t laugh or respond, but always smiled with the same expression.
Inside a very small picture frame.