Episode 04
That night, Seoeun lay awake, staring at the ceiling for a long time.
She had heard it until her ears rang—how maintaining a regular sleep schedule was more important than anything else. Her mother, Jeongyun, never tired of saying it. And yet, tonight, sleep refused to come.
“Jin Seoeun, listen carefully. I’m giving you an early birthday present. I won’t force you. Whether you accept it or not—that’s your choice.”
The shock of that unexpected gift still hadn’t faded.
The choice is yours.
Those words kept circling endlessly in her head.
Marriage—leaving her sick brother and her mother behind.
At first, it felt absurd. Nonsensical.
And meeting her sister’s blind date in her place? That was beyond unreasonable.
“…No. What’s wrong is wrong.”
Murmuring words that sounded like resignation, Seoeun slowly pushed herself upright and reached beneath the bed.
Her fingers brushed against an old shoebox, its surface thick with dust. If her mother ever found it, she would have thrown it out without hesitation.
Lifting it onto her lap, Seoeun opened the lid.
A faint scent of resin drifted into the air.
Inside lay a pair of ballet shoes, neatly placed. Once a soft blush pink, the satin had faded badly with time, bearing the quiet scars of years gone by.
There was a time when she had worn these shoes and learned ballet for several years.
Back when her mother said moderate exercise was good for immunity—and hired a ballet teacher to come to the house.
She wasn’t allowed outside, so lessons were always held in a single room.
Even so, she had been so happy it made her want to cry.
Seoeun still remembered the thrill of rising onto her toes in front of the large mirror.
It felt as though she were flying toward the sky—her chest swelling with joy.
But that happiness didn’t last long.
When she was twelve, Seoeun fell during practice and suffered a minor fracture. From that day on, ballet was permanently forbidden in her life.
Too dangerous, they said.
Sitting still, Seoeun gently traced the ballet shoes with her fingers. As she followed the worn satin with her fingertips, the fluttering excitement of her childhood seemed to flicker faintly back to life.
Before she knew it, she typed “basic ballet” into the YouTube search bar.
Video after video appeared on the screen. Most of them she had already watched countless times—but her eyes sparkled all the same.
Though formal lessons were forbidden, she had never truly given up. From then on, she had taught herself like this, watching videos in secret.
She clicked on her favorite one.
On-screen, the ballerina gracefully lifted her arms. Seoeun stood up as well, raising her arms high and carefully copying each movement—slowly, but clearly.
Port de bras.
Lowering her arms softly, Seoeun closed her eyes.
In her imagination, she stood alone on a vast stage. Brilliant lights poured down upon her, and hushed applause rippled through the audience.
Opening her eyes again, she lifted one leg behind her.
Arabesque.
She wanted to draw long, beautiful lines—just like the ballerina on the screen.
But the leg supporting her body soon began to tremble. Her center of gravity tipped forward, and before she could recover—
She stumbled and fell, landing hard on the floor.
“…Ow.”
She shouldn’t make noise this late at night. Biting her lip, she swallowed the pain and let out a small, breathless laugh.
“…Hic.”
But it didn’t last.
Her birdlike shoulders began to shake.
She could no longer deny it—she was exhausted. Desperately so.
For twenty-three years, she had lived solely for her brother.
It wasn’t resentment. For her beloved family, she would have done anything.
But sometimes—just sometimes—
She wanted to be precious to someone too.
Not as Hyuseok’s spare parts.
Not as a savior sibling.
She wanted to be loved simply as Jin Seoeun.
Was that really such a selfish desire?
That night, Seoeun buried her face into her bony knees and cried for a long, long time.
The next morning, the dining table was set with bland porridge and lightly seasoned vegetables—food prepared to match Hyuseok’s hospital diet.
As Jeongyun busied herself packing the containers to take to the hospital, Seoeun lifted her spoon and set it down again and again.
Her mouth was painfully dry.
The words she had rehearsed all night spun endlessly near her throat.
Just one place to breathe.
If nothing else, she wanted to dance ballet again.
Why did saying that one sentence feel so unbearably heavy?
“Mom…”
The sound of her spoon touching the table rang unusually loud.
“Can I… start ballet again?”
Her heart pounded wildly as she spoke. Her fingertips turned cold.
Jeongyun stared at her without a word.
Her gaze was unfamiliar—sharp, displeased, as though she were looking at something absurd.
“What nonsense are you suddenly talking about?”
Her voice came out pointed, edged with irritation. A clear warning that her mood was sour.
Seoeun instinctively hunched her shoulders—but this time, she didn’t want to back down.
“I’m not saying this lightly, Mom.”
What came back was only cold rebuke.
“Do you even know what condition your brother is in? His kidneys are failing—he needs a transplant right now. And you want to dance? Who did you take after to become so selfish?”
Selfish.
The word stabbed straight into her chest.
“What if you get hurt again like last time? Twist your ankle? Break a bone? Then who’s getting surgery? Who’s saving your brother?”
“….”
Her eyes burned, her throat tightened—but the tears never fell.
She couldn’t let them.
If she cried here, she felt as though she really would become a selfish person.
“Mom, I just—”
She was about to say she needed somewhere to breathe—
“Enough. Eat. And Seoeun—if you have time for nonsense like this, take better care of your body. If you lose any more weight, you’re finished.”
Ignoring her completely, Jeongyun finished packing Hyuseok’s food and left the house.
Left alone, Seoeun blankly picked up her spoon.
“Ugh—!”
The rice kept catching in her throat. No matter how she tried, it wouldn’t go down.
The food she forced herself to swallow twisted painfully in her stomach—then surged back up. Covering her mouth, she rushed to the bathroom.
“Ugh—!”
She retched over the toilet for a long time, the word selfish echoing endlessly in her head.
For over twenty years, she had given everything to save her only brother—cord blood, bone marrow, blood.
She hadn’t gone to school. Had no friends. Had never run freely under the sun.
She didn’t even remember blowing out candles on a birthday cake.
And she was selfish?
For the first time, she heard something crack deep inside her.
Would this miserable moment ever end?
If her brother recovered… would she finally get to live her own life?
Or was that day never going to come at all?
Leaving her unfinished meal behind, Seoeun returned to her room. She closed the door, leaned against it—and only then did the tears spill freely.
After crying for a long while, she picked up her phone.
With trembling fingers, she called her sister. Huyeon answered before the ringtone could sound twice.
“Yeah, Seoeun. Have you decided?”
Her voice shaking, Seoeun whispered with quiet resolve.
“sister… I’ll take the gift you gave me.”
