In my write-up for Episode 7, I explained how the “kidney bean incident” distorted JungWoo’s perception of life and left him needing affirmation. In this episode, I say it’s a “zero-sum” mentality that warps HaNeul’s worldview and causes her to self-isolate.

Let’s begin with her brother BaDa’s long monologue about her. I didn’t think it was all for nothing, did you?

BaDa: On the day HaNeul was born, they say the sky over Busan was especially clear and incredibly blue. That’s why they named her “HaNeul.” And they named me “BaDa” just to match hers. And we lived up to our names. Her grades kept soaring as high as the sky. And my grades stayed at sea level. She was sad even when she aced a test. She said she got a question right from a guess, not her knowledge. I was happy just to get 25% because Mom would buy us pizza whenever HaNeul aced a test. And so we lived different lives. I like hanging out with friends, but she liked studying more. I like delicious food, but she liked studying more. I was especially romantic, but she had no interest in love. Dating was just something that got in the way of her studies. The only thing that made her swoon was the arrival of new textbooks. The only time her heart raced was when she ran out of breath dashing up the stairs. But that person started to resemble me. She’d grin from ear to ear while texting. She now has someone who she wants to visit nice places with. She seems to be in deep thought right now. It must be because of that special someone. Haneul has a happy problem now. I’m sure of it.

It wasn’t only the need for excellence that HaNeul learned from an early age. She also acquired a zero-sum mentality. This mindset is best summed up as “your loss is my gain.”

You see, when HaNeul and BaDa were young, it was obvious that they were competing against each other like brothers and sisters are wont to do. If her grades were soaring, then her brother’s grades were flunking. If she gained their mother’s approval, then he had none. If she had zero friends, he had a roomful. If she didn’t eat their mom’s short ribs, he had it all. If she had no time for romance and dating, he did. Their sibling rivalry encouraged this zero-sum mentality. One was the winner; the other a loser.

However, it took the death of her father to bring this zero-sum mentality to the fore.

She told her psychiatrist that when she thought about that day her father passed away, she remembered how perfect it had been.

HaNeul: I sometimes think about that day. On that day, everything was perfect. I solved a hard question that I’d struggled with for days. I was assigned to a seat in the corner where I could concentrate well. I wasn’t confident about the PE test, but I even aced that. That day was full of only good things. I thought ‘I guess everyone gets at least one day that shines like this in their lives.’” At the end of the perfect day, unbearable misfortune was waiting for me. When my dad took his last breath, I was basking in happiness. I couldn’t even say goodbye to him one last time. Those thoughts haunted me for a while. Ever since then, whenever I’d feel happy, I’d suddenly feel anxiety within my heart. ‘How long will this happiness last?’ Every moment, it feels like I’m struggling with guilt, anxiety, and unease in every single moment of my life….”

Thus, her perfect school day was irrevocably linked to her father’s day of death. While she was “basking in happiness,” her father drew his last breath. While she had been reveling in her unexpected good fortune, her mother had been thrown into despair and grief because of the sudden family crisis.

To a young teenager like HaNeul, it would seem like happiness was a finite resource. She could find happiness, but at the expense of another person’s unhappiness. One person’s gain is another person’s loss.

Understandably, she began feeling anxious that happiness was only temporary and ephemeral. She couldn’t shake off that notion that happiness was in limited quantity. If she felt guilty being happy, that’s probably because she sensed that somebody else was unhappy in her place. She must have felt uneasy, believing that there’s a tradeoff in her happiness. She didn’t “deserve” happiness.

Ironically, she did have a “happy problem,” like what BaDa said.

It didn’t help her at all that she met KyungMin during her medical residency. As she had been struggling with guilty feelings about happiness, she became susceptible to his (fake) compliments and (even faker) attention. According to her, she felt at peace whenever he told her that she was doing well.

Little did she expect that working with KyungMin would reinforce her zero-sum mindset and pushed her to her breaking point.

HaNeul: Why did you do it? I wrote the entire dissertation, so why did you omit my name?
KyungMin: Ah. That. I thought it’d be best if I was the sole author this time. Both Dr. Oh and Dr. Kwon did the same. So I should, too. Theirs also have IFs of ten, but this is all I have.
HaNeul: But I wrote everything. You can’t be the sole author—
KyungMin: This is your problem. Are you really that dense? Do you have to do this? You want my life to be ruined? HaNeul, I’ll recommend you when a new spot opens up. So let’s just sweep this under the rug. The professor’s agreed to it, too, so that’s it.

In other words, she had to take the loss in order for him to advance in his medical career. Her loss was his gain.

That’s why she became upset when her friend told her that JungWoo turned down a job offer because of her.

Friend: The truth is Dr. Bin asked JungWoo to work with him. But he refused.
HaNeul: (tensing up) What?
Friend: He said he had to stay by your side. He said you’d be really dejected if he was the only one who got a job.
HaNeul: (dismayed)

Friend: But Dr. Bin doesn’t know it’s you because he asked me to pass this on. He thinks you two are close, so he wants you to persuade him. I didn’t want to tell you this and trouble you, but I thought you should still know.
HaNeul: (tearing up)

She muttered that this was worse.

Conveniently, it rained. By the way, this is called “pathetic fallacy.” In a pathetic fallacy, the weather matches the mood or inner state of the character. HaNeul’s name meant the sky, and the sky was crying along with her.

Of course, she misunderstood JungWoo’s frame of mind. Since she was steeped in this zero-sum fallacy where one person loses and another person wins, JungWoo’s belief in sharing trouble didn’t make sense to her. His exact words to Dr. Bin were:

JungWoo: I’m sorry, Hyung. I’m really grateful for your offer. But now’s not the time.
Bin: Why not?
JungWoo: There’s this girl I like, but she’s struggling right now. So I think I should stay by her side.
Bin: Is it bad enough not to work?
JungWoo: Not really. But I think she’ll be even more dejected to see me get a job when she’s unemployed.

To me, JungWoo sounded reasonable. He was concerned about her, so he put her needs before his. Her struggles with depression were more imperative and exigent than his return-to-work. However, given HER frame of mind, she didn’t interpret his decision in the same way. She blasted him when they encountered each other in the rain.

JungWoo: HaNeul, why haven’t you picked up? Where’s your umbrella? What happened?
HaNeul: Why did you have to humiliate me?

She was humiliated when her friend told her that JungWoo turned down the job offer to spare her feelings. I get it. For one, it sounded like JungWoo expected her to be unemployed for a long time. For another, even though JungWoo’s apprehension might have the ring of truth, she was still embarrassed that he discussed her private circumstances with a stranger.

JungWoo: (confused) Huh?
HaNeul: Why did you make me even more miserable?
Jungwoo: HaNeul-ah.
HaNeul: Let’s end it here. I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone right now. I was okay yesterday but not today. My emotions are all over the place. I don’t know if I’m resting or falling apart.
JungWoo: HaNeul-ah.
HaNeul: I’d forgotten for a minute. I’m someone who struggles to even take care of herself. I’m sorry.

She sidestepped him to walk away.

JungWoo: Can’t you just struggle by my side?

Note how he slightly moved the umbrella to shelter both of them.

JungWoo: Whatever that pain is, let’s go through it together.
HaNeul: (sniffing) I don’t want to. Why do you have to suffer because of me? That’s the worst.

I agree with JungWoo; they could weather this storm together. But because of her zero-sum mindset, she didn’t believe that mutual gain was possible. Sigh! How she quickly forgot that, in the past weeks, their mutual suffering had brought them together rather than tore them apart. She dismissed from her mind that they had bonded and found happiness because of their mutual empathy and compassion. She reverted to her learned bias that happiness was scarce and short-lived.

She began to walk away but he grabbed her wrist.

HaNeul: (insisting) I’m okay.
JungWoo: We don’t need to date, and you don’t need to like me. So just take this.

He put the umbrella in her hand and gave her a brave smile before walking away. And since this is a Park ShinHye drama, she did what she was famous for: crying a river.

But look here. The umbrella was clearly a symbol. Don’t miss it.

Because of HaNeul’s insistence on this zero-sum game, one of them ended up with the umbrella, and the other had to do without. One was protected from the rain, the other walked in the rain. Her gain is his loss.

Really, sharing the umbrella was the commonsense thing to do. It was a golf umbrella, big enough for two. But because of HaNeul’s zero-sum fallacy, BOTH of them ended up getting drenched in this rain-metaphor of sadness.

Gotta run.