Adults always say that children don’t understand anything. They assume that kids are oblivious to what they see and experience as they grow, even though that couldn’t be further from the truth. Even animals, incapable of speech, can sense human emotions with uncanny accuracy—so why wouldn’t a child, just because they’re young?"He grew up by devouring his own brother."That phrase wasn’t something only Hwan-young had to endure—Hwan-hee had heard it just as much, to the point of exhaustion. Not just from distant relatives but also from neighbors they barely exchanged greetings with, from the parents of his so-called friends, and even from the friends who grew up under those parents.As a child, Hwan-hee hadn’t understood what it meant. People whispered about it constantly, yet not a single person ever explained it to his face. They never told him why his older brother had supposedly devoured him or whether that meant his brother ate people. Instead, they just muttered among themselves, too caught up in their own gossip to bother giving him an answer."Mom, what does ‘devour’ mean?"Was he four years old then? Five? He had held back for as long as he could before finally asking. His mother, clearly uncomfortable, had dodged the question. Sitting him on her lap, she gently tidied his hair and said only one thing: Never mention it in front of your brother.Vaguely, he had assumed they were trying to isolate his brother. Every time he spoke up, his parents hushed him, warning him never to bring it up in front of Hwan-young. And yet, adults spoke freely about it among themselves, never once thinking to lower their voices or spare his ears.A few days later, an incident occurred. While playing with toy robots in their room, Hwan-young and Hwan-hee overheard the voices of the adults outside."At least Hwan-hee is healthy these days. That’s a relief."Their voices were louder than usual, echoing through the house. Excited, maybe, or strangely agitated. It was clear they had been drinking that odd green-bottled liquid that made them act different."Isn’t he just taking on all the sickness that should’ve gone to Hwan-young? That poor child… he must’ve suffered so much."At that, both Hwan-hee and Hwan-young set their toys down in unison. The sudden silence in their room made the voices outside all the more audible."It’s a miracle he survived this long."He had been sick often, even before birth. He had been placed in an incubator right after he was born, and he hadn’t been able to leave the hospital until after his first birthday. Meanwhile, Hwan-young, born at the same time, had grown strong and healthy without so much as a cold. Only Hwan-hee had fought death at every turn, barely managing to cling to life."So… did my brother eat me?"Hwan-hee had asked. But Hwan-young hadn’t answered. Staring at his brother—who looked exactly like him—he had asked again."Then… will he eat me again?"He couldn’t remember how Hwan-young had reacted. Had he clamped his mouth shut? Hung his head low? All Hwan-hee could recall was the frustrated voice that had finally spoken."I don’t eat people."Of course not. His brother wasn’t some kind of monster. There was no way he would eat people. So, Hwan-hee had simply nodded, not questioning it further. But Hwan-young hadn’t stopped there."I’m serious.""Huh?""I said, I’m serious!"Hwan-hee had tilted his head slightly in confusion before realizing that his brother wasn’t talking to him at all. He had seen it before—how sometimes, his brother spoke to something unseen. He had intended to pretend not to notice, like always, but before he could, Hwan-young had grabbed his arm and glared at something behind him."Stay away from my little brother, you monster.""......"Hiccup. His shoulders had jumped as he gasped in fear. This wasn’t the first time his brother had acted like this, but for young Hwan-hee, it was terrifying every single time. Clutching onto Hwan-young’s sleeve, unable to turn around, he had whispered."Is the monster here again?"Sometimes, Hwan-young said he could see monsters. It was a secret between just the two of them—something even their parents didn’t know. Sometimes, the monsters looked like people. Sometimes, they looked like animals. And sometimes, they had no faces at all."Not anymore."And just like every time before, Hwan-young had answered without a flicker of emotion. That day, too, he had placed a toy robot in Hwan-hee’s arms and spoken in a calm voice."I sent it home."How, exactly? Hwan-hee hadn’t asked that far. He had simply sat beside his brother, pressing close, and played with the robots as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the adults outside continued their conversation, speaking words the twins didn’t yet understand."Hwan-hee, no matter what, you must never hate your brother."Their parents always said that to him. Over and over. No matter what others said, no matter what happened, he was never to hate Hwan-young. Because, in the end, the only people they could rely on were each other.It never made sense to him. Why would he hate his brother? Hwan-young never stole his toys, never hurt him—he was a kind older brother. What reason would he ever have to hate him?And yet, those same parents sometimes looked at Hwan-young with eyes full of fear."Are we moving?"It was when they were seven, just before they entered elementary school. Suddenly, they were told they would be moving to a place even farther from their school. Without knowing anything, they had ridden in a truck and arrived at an unfamiliar neighborhood—one where no one else lived.Why did they have to live in such a strange, isolated place? That was the only complaint Hwan-hee had."From now on, the four of us will live here."Back then, he had known nothing. Nothing about how their parents had abandoned their business and relocated. Nothing about how they had used all their money to buy up the surrounding land. Nothing about the talismans they had plastered everywhere with the help of a shaman. Nothing about how it was all because of Hwan-young."This place is huge, Brother!"The yard was filled with lush, green grass, and the house was as pretty as the vacation cottages they had visited before. He was a little sad to be away from his friends, but he didn’t mind—his brother, the best playmate he could ever have, was right there with him.It was the happiest time he could remember. Every day, they spent time together as a family. Hwan-young no longer talked about monsters. Sometimes, he still stared into empty spaces, but when asked, he would simply shake his head and say it was nothing."Hwan-hee, you’re going to fall if you keep running like that."Looking back, he believed that time had been just as precious to his brother. At some point, Hwan-young, who had stopped smiling so often, began laughing several times a day. At school, he barely spoke to anyone, but at home, he and Hwan-hee would chat endlessly, never tiring of each other’s company.But that happiness was fleeting.The year the twins turned eight, their parents left for a place far away.A dark, terrifying place from which they would never return."In the end, he even devoured his own parents..."The scent of burning incense had filled the air. They had worn stiff, unattractive black clothes, and everyone had looked at them with strange eyes. Strangers had come, sobbing, and hugged Hwan-hee while only glaring at Hwan-young before leaving.Even at such a young age, he had begun to realize—this was only the beginning.This translation is the intellectual property of ."I Didn't Do It."That was the first thing Hwan-young said after the funeral had ended.Unlike Hwan-hee, whose eyes were raw and swollen from crying, Hwan-young hadn't shed a single tear. It was then, for the first time, that his older brother—who had already grown taller than most kids his age—looked strangely small."I didn’t devour them."Hwan-hee had known that. On the night their parents died, Hwan-young had been outside with him, running through the yard. He had been watching dandelion seeds float through the air, marveling at how they looked like cotton fluff.Afterward, the two of them were sent to live with distant relatives—people they barely recognized, yet who always looked at Hwan-hee with overwhelming pity. They shared a room, transferred to a school full of unfamiliar faces, and were left to navigate a world that now felt completely foreign."Poor thing."Everyone whispered the same thing: that their parents’ deaths were because of his brother. That only poor little Hwan-hee had been left behind, an orphan.As if Hwan-young hadn’t lost them, too.At first, Hwan-hee refused to believe it. His brother wasn’t a monster—he hadn’t devoured anyone. But no matter how much he denied it, hearing the same thing over and over again had a way of seeping into his mind.For two years, he cried into his blanket at night. He grieved for a past that could never return and, eventually, began resenting his innocent brother. The sorrow grew heavier with each passing year until, one night, he said something he would never forget."It’s all your fault."Even now, he could never erase the expression his brother had made in that moment. A face identical to his own, suddenly frozen in place, vacant and hollow.Their parents had always told him never to hate his brother.But he couldn't stop himself from speaking."It’s because of you that Mom and Dad died."The moment the words left his mouth, he buried himself under his blanket and cried.Hwan-young didn’t offer any comfort.He only whispered—so softly it was barely audible—"I’m sorry."And a month later, everything started to change.Hwan-young began acting strangely. Every night, he would slip out from under his blanket, open the window, and sit there for a long time.Hwan-hee always woke up to the sound of him moving, but he never asked why.Because, deep down—he was scared.They were twins, born only five minutes apart, and yet, when his brother acted like that, he felt an unbearable distance between them. The realization that Hwan-young could see something he couldn't—that he was living in a world invisible to him—became impossible to ignore."So this is why our parents were afraid of him."That thought crossed his mind often. He would think of their late parents and cry himself to sleep. He would lash out in his grief, blaming his brother for everything, only to choke on the words I’m sorry before they could ever be spoken.Then, one day, everything boiled over."Hey, I heard your brother can see ghosts."It started as a petty fight. A boy had been teasing him, and before Hwan-hee even realized it, they were throwing punches, grappling and clawing at each other.Normally, he would have ignored it. But then, the other kid smirked and muttered:"What if he's actually a ghost, too?"It was a childish taunt—something he could have brushed off.But he didn’t.Before he knew it, he had grabbed the boy by the hair, yanking him down."My brother is human!"By the time the fight was over, he had a lump on his head and a split lip, but the other boy walked away with a bruised, swollen eye.That meant he had won.The real problem, however, was the look on Hwan-young’s face when he saw him afterward."…Are you hurt?"By then, Hwan-young had already grown taller than him. A full head taller, even.And yet, their faces were identical—so much so that as children, even in photos, it was impossible to tell them apart."This only happened because you keep isolating yourself."On the way home, Hwan-young carried him on his back for the first time in a long while.Hwan-hee grumbled, lightly scratching his brother’s shoulder with his nails—not enough to hurt, just enough to leave a trace. Like a cat sharpening its claws.Hwan-young probably thought it was just ticklish, but for Hwan-hee, it was his own way of getting even."Stop being so gloomy and try talking to people.""…I’m sorry.""Stop apologizing all the time!"Hwan-young hadn’t done anything wrong.Hwan-hee knew that.He had always wanted to tell him so. But every time they faced each other, the only words that came out were the bitter ones."I’m sorry, Hwan-hee."Back then, young Hwan-hee didn’t know how to say It’s okay.I’ll tell him tomorrow. I’ll tell him the day after that.He kept delaying it, always waiting for the right moment.Because in the end, they only had each other.But that moment never came.By the time June was nearing its end—on the cusp of summer—everything was lost.The last thing he saw before the world went dark was a truck, speeding toward him.And the final image burned into ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) his mind—was the look of utter despair on his brother’s face.

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