Brother, Am I Cute? [EN]: Chapter 15

“Hyung, I’m cute, right?”

Asperger’s Syndrome.

A developmental disorder characterized by difficulties in social interaction and communication, along with restricted and repetitive patterns of behavior, interests, or activities.

‘No.’

I shook my head inwardly.

For someone supposedly with that syndrome, Siha was too cute.

That’s not the point.

This was the third time I’d seen Siha’s drawings.

And I could say with certainty that his drawing skills hadn’t been like this before.

It wasn’t just that he had no talent.

It seemed like he had some real ability, even to my untrained eyes.

Like with the soccer ball drawing…

What’s the most important thing in drawing?

Maybe others would say imagination, but I think differently.

It’s the ability to thoroughly dissect and observe.

In that sense, the penguin character Siha drew was very well-observed.

Even though it was a creative character, he accurately captured the penguin’s key characteristics.

He even made the points where lines met darker to increase the clarity of the drawing.

It was hard to believe that a three-year-old understood and could execute this.

‘What I can guess is… could it be that?’

There were some clues.

The open box, Mom’s tablet, the sudden fever, and this newfound ability.

What if the ability I gained from Dad’s laptop was also somehow applied to Siha?

And that’s why he’s suddenly showing these abilities?

‘It’s not Asperger’s Syndrome. And of course, it’s not Savant Syndrome either.’

But I didn’t know if Song Yena, sitting in front of me, would agree.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes?”

“It’s not Asperger’s Syndrome.”

“But this right now…”

“Think about it. You’re a doctor, so you know better. Siha communicates very well. Beethoven, who supposedly had Asperger’s Syndrome, lacked practical communication skills.”

“Siha tends to lack that too, doesn’t he?”

“We don’t know that yet. Siha has started saying ‘cold’ and ‘hot’ now. And I communicate well with him, too.”

“Hmm.”

To be honest, the evidence was a bit weak.

Should I get a genetic test or something…

“Ah! Right. People with Asperger’s Syndrome tend to use fewer facial expressions and gestures during communication. Our Siha is so expressive. Right, Siha?”

“Ah ah.”

Song Yena looked at Siha and then back at me.

She looked like she had a lot to say.

“Why?”

“He uses a lot of gestures, but his facial expressions…”

“That’s because other people don’t have a good eye for it. It’s not Siha’s fault.”

“Haa. Well, yes. There are many suspicious aspects, and I can’t say it’s definitive yet. It’s really strange.”

She couldn’t come to a firm conclusion because Siha presented so many conflicting signs.

Well, it would seem strange to anyone observing him.

“Then let’s just keep an eye on him for now. If he’s still like this in a month, it’s a problem we really need to seriously consider.”

“Yes, let’s do that. And um, could I take a small genetic sample, just in case? If Siha doesn’t like it, I won’t.”

“Well, hair or saliva should be fine.”

Maybe it’ll just be a normal genetic makeup?

No, maybe there might be a very special and cute genetic arrangement.

This could even be material for an academic conference paper!

I stroked Siha’s head while entertaining such silly thoughts.

“Hyung!”

“Yeah. It’s a penguin. A penguin. You drew it really well!”

“Ah ah.”

***

On the way home.

I let my imagination run wild about Siha’s potential abilities.

Getting into art high school, improving his drawing skills, and even growing into a successful fine arts student.

Then I started thinking about how much all of that would cost.

From the cost of an easel to the cost of oil paints.

I’d heard that pursuing art was incredibly expensive.

I couldn’t even imagine how much it would cost to send him to study abroad, like so many aspiring artists do.

“Hyung.”

I snapped out of my thoughts at Siha’s call.

‘I got ahead of myself.’

I was dreaming of a very distant future.

I was counting my chickens before they hatched, even though I didn’t know what the future held for Siha.

“Yeah? Siha. Are you sleepy?”

Siha blinked slowly.

Nod nod.

He spread his arms, asking for a hug.

I picked up Siha and patted his butt.

I always wanted to pat his plump butt rather than his back.

“Sleep sleep. Let’s go night night.”

“Ah ah.”

Siha closed his eyes.

Night night.

He quickly fell asleep before long.

He must have been tired.

So many things had happened today alone.

And Siha is still so young.

‘Art, what art. He should do what he wants to do.’

I pushed the thoughts of Siha’s potential abilities out of my mind.

Actually, while most people go into fields they’re good at, I hope Siha goes into a field he loves.

I didn’t want to limit his possibilities with hasty judgments.

I just wanted Siha to be happy, now and in the future.

Like a normal child.

Even achieving that ‘normal’ feels quite difficult for me.

‘Can I really take the place of his parents?’

I couldn’t answer the question that always comes back to haunt me.

I’ll just do my best.

Before I knew it, we were back home.

I carefully opened the door and laid Siha down in his room.

After covering him with a blanket and patting his stomach a couple of times, I went out to the living room.

I opened my laptop and took a deep breath.

‘Let’s make money.’

I can make money by working whenever I have time.

I didn’t want to drag this one book out for three to six months.

Usually, translation takes two months, but with my current ability, I thought I could finish it in as little as a month.

I opened the scanned copy on one of the two laptops and the Korean file on the other.

I put my hands on the keyboard and started translating quickly.

Doo doo doo doo.

[The Golden Clock Hand]

This was a story about a doctor.

It begins with a grandfather, also a doctor, recalling the ten surgeries he regretted the most.

If only my hands had been faster.

If only I had reduced the time more.

If I hadn’t made those minor mistakes…

Could I have saved more people?

For a doctor dying with such regrets, a miracle occurs.

He returns to his days as a young doctor.

And gains a special ability along the way.

‘The Golden Clock Hand.’

The ability to turn back time to the golden hour [the critical period after an injury or onset of illness when treatment is most effective].

More precisely, the ability to return to the moment before a surgery begins.

I felt a surge of interest as I read this part.

It wasn’t an overwhelmingly overpowered ability.

Even if he could go back to before the surgery, there would inevitably be people he couldn’t save.

‘This is interesting.’

I understood why I’d chosen to translate this book.

However, I also foresaw some potential issues during the translation process.

For example, there was a need to add supplementary explanations about the setting and context.

I texted Hong Jin-soo to address this.

[Could I possibly get the author’s email address?]

Sometimes, you can email the original author to ask questions or discuss specific points.

Often, they don’t reply or the email goes unread, but if you have those connections, you can ask questions later when you get stuck during the translation.

‘Now it’s all coming together.’

With that thought, I added content in red font to mark it for review.

Later, Hong Jin-soo would have to decide whether to keep it or not.

Buzz buzz.

[Section Chief Hong Jin-soo]

I received a call immediately after sending the text.

“Yes, Section Chief Hong.”

His voice was unusually cheerful and energetic.

“Si-hyuk!”

“Why do you need the author’s email? Are you facing some difficulties?”

“Not exactly, but I wanted to add some more explanations to the descriptions. As you know, the medical system in Korea is different from those in other countries.”

“What aspects are you referring to?”

“In Korea, doctors are typically employed by the hospital, but in this novel, the hospital treats doctors as contract workers. Only nurses are directly employed by the hospital. This significantly alters the relationship between doctors and nurses.”

I hesitate to frame the relationship in terms of ‘superior’ and ‘subordinate,’ but in this scenario, the dynamic between nurses and doctors becomes much more egalitarian.

Consequently, people’s perceptions and the overall hospital culture are quite different.

“Ah! That’s right. I hadn’t considered that.”

“So, I think I should draft a description in English and seek their feedback via email.”

“Wow. Seriously… you’re like a seasoned translator. Is this really your first time?”

“It is. I’ve translated the initial portion, guiding it in the direction I envisioned, so please review it.”

“Si-hyuk, after this book is completed, why don’t you join our company? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Ah, the call quality is poor? The reception must be weak here. Please send the details via text or KakaoTalk [a popular messaging app in South Korea]. Why is the connection so bad?”

“I want you, Lee Si-hyuk.”

“Pardon? What did you say? I can’t hear you clearly. I’ll hang up.”

Click.

I hung up and waited for a KakaoTalk message.

[The author’s email is [email protected] Please contact me anytime if you want a job. I’ll get you in through nepotism. Only the best opportunities await you here.]

Instead of the best opportunities, only endless overtime work would be waiting for me.

I chuckled and composed an email.

I explained my role as the translator and the rationale behind the need for these additional descriptions.

I touched upon the origins of Korean rhythm, contrasting it with the emphasis and rhythm prevalent in the United States.

After elaborating on the appropriateness of long and short sentences, 30 minutes had already elapsed.

It was perfect after carefully reviewing it and adding polite expressions.

‘Let’s send it as is.’

Perhaps they’ll review it and choose not to reply.

That would be tantamount to telling me to handle it myself.

But I wanted to exchange ideas with the author to ensure a high-quality translation.

Maybe this is the true mark of a translator?

***

Siha gazed at his mom’s tablet.

“Hyung [older brother].”

“Yeah. This is called a tablet, and you can draw on it. Try to repeat after me. Tablet. Tablet.”

“Ah ah ah.”

“This is a pen. Follow me. Pen.”

“Ah ah.”

Si-hyuk turned on the tablet for Siha.

When the screen illuminated, Siha looked at it in amazement.

Bright colors reflected in Siha’s eyes.

“Okay. This program is Photoshop. It’s a place to create drawings. No matter how much Siha draws, Hyung doesn’t have to erase it. Now, instead of drawing on the refrigerator, draw here…”

Siha listened attentively to Hyung’s words and tapped on the Photoshop icon.

He tapped ‘Create New’ and even created a new layer.

“Huh?”

“Hyung.”

Siha gave Si-hyuk a look that seemed to ask, ‘Did I do well?’

“You’re a genius. A genius.”

“Ah ah.”

Watching Si-hyuk’s enthusiastic reaction, Siha grabbed the pen and began to draw.

He hoped Hyung would be happier.

A pink light enveloped Siha, surrounding his small hands.

It was as if someone was guiding him.

Siha drew a line with the light.

‘Hyung. Hyung.’

An SD character [Super Deformed character, a style of caricature] was gradually taking shape.

SD refers to a drawing technique that expresses a person-shaped character in a chibi style [Japanese slang for “short person” or “small child”] with a large head, short legs, and body.

-The face should be divided into two parts: the cheekbones and the lower part of the jaw below the eyes.

A faint, flickering voice reached Siha’s ears.

“Ah?”

Siha glanced around.

“What’s wrong, Siha?”

“Ah ah.”

Siha refocused on the screen and began drawing the face.

A chubby face. Big eyes.

He completed the face by drawing the bangs, side hair, and back hair in three distinct sections.

He drew the face in a specific order, as if following a set of rules.

He freely used zoom in, zoom out, left-right reversal, and rotation.

Si-hyuk didn’t find the sight strange.

He simply watched from behind.

“You’re really good at drawing.”

“Ah ah. Mom.”

“Yeah? Yes. It’s Mom’s tablet.”

When the light receded from his hand, Siha stopped drawing.

And pointing at the picture, Siha said.

“Hyung.”

“Yeah? Did you draw Hyung?”

Nod nod.

Siha was filled with anticipation.

He wanted Hyung to smile brightly.

“Wow. Thank you so much! It looks exactly like me! This is what you call a portrait!”

It wasn’t accurate at all, but Siha didn’t know what a portrait was, so he simply called out to Si-hyuk.

“Hyung!”

Siha felt happy because Hyung was smiling.