The rain is falling heavily, drenching the world around you as you stand frozen, your tiny arms wrapped tightly around your two-year-old brother. His small body shakes against yours, his cries matching yours, though he doesn’t fully understand the tragedy unfolding before him.

In front of you, the car lies on its side, a twisted wreck of metal and shattered glass. Your heart races, your breaths coming in short gasps as you scream for them to wake up. The cold rain mixes with your tears, blurring your vision.

You woke up when you feel a hand on your cheek, weak and trembling. It’s your mother, her eyes barely open, her voice so faint it’s almost drowned out by the storm.

“Y-Yn…” she whispers, her voice quivering as she pats your arm. “W-Wake up… take y-your brother… get out of the c-car.”

You blink, your body shaking. “M-Mom, no! Come with us!” you plead, clutching your brother tighter, your little legs feeling like they’re made of stone.

Your mother’s face twists in pain, her eyes flickering toward your unconscious father in the driver’s seat. “I-I will… after you get out. I’ll wake up D-Dad, and we’ll follow… I p-promise. But you… you have to go n-now.”

Her words tremble in the air, but you nod through your tears, holding onto that promise. You scramble out of the car, dragging your brother with you, your small hands trembling as you clutch his tiny fingers. He cries louder, confused, but you don’t have time to comfort him.

Once outside, you turn back to the car. Your mother is trying to shake your father awake, her hands pressed desperately against his chest. But he doesn’t move. He just… lies there, still. You see her face twist, eyes brimming with tears as she reaches for his neck, checking for a pulse.

Your heart sinks. Something is wrong—really, really wrong.

“M-Mom?” you call, your voice cracking, almost lost in the pounding rain.

Your mother glances at you, her face etched with sorrow as she shifts her gaze between you and your father. She’s torn, caught between two impossible choices. You see the panic in her eyes as she frantically tries again to wake him. Then… a spark ignites from the front of the car.

Your eyes widen in horror.

Without thinking, you take a step toward the wreck, your body moving on instinct, but your mother’s voice cuts through the air. “YN! STOP!” Her voice is sharp, pained, but commanding. “Stay back! You have to stay back!”

You freeze, tears pouring down your face. “MOM! NO! PLEASE… PLEASE…”

Her voice softens, and through the rain, you see her lips trembling into a sad smile. “P-Protect your brother… you promised, remember? When he was born… y-you promised me…”

The heat from the fire is starting to build, the sparks growing into flames. Your mother looks at you one last time, her eyes soft despite the terror unfolding. “We’ll come back to you… just stay together. Don’t leave each other.”

Your legs buckle as you take a shaky step backward, holding your brother tight against your chest. The flames grow, engulfing the car in seconds. Your mother is still smiling, her eyes never leaving yours as she mouths the words, “Never leave his side.”

Then… everything explodes into fire.

You scream as the blast knocks you to the ground, shielding your brother with your body. The sound of the explosion rings in your ears, deafening, and the world goes silent, save for the crackling of flames.

You wake up with a start, your heart pounding, sweat dampening your forehead. That nightmare again. It’s been twenty years, yet the memory of the accident clings to you like a shadow, haunting you as much as it did when you were a child. You wipe the sweat away, trying to steady your breath.

Beside you, there’s a tiny movement. Your little bean, Su-bin, is searching for you in his sleep, his small hand reaching out to cuddle. A soft smile tugs at your lips, the lingering pain from the nightmare fading a little as you look at him. His innocent face, so peaceful, gives you strength.

The clock on the nightstand catches your eye. It’s still early—plenty of time before he needs to get ready for school. You gently slip out of bed, careful not to disturb him, and head to the kitchen to start your daily routine.

The house is quiet as you prepare breakfast, the smell of warm toast and eggs filling the air. You glance out the window at the rising sun, feeling the weight of the years, the memories that resurface every morning like clockwork. But here, in this moment, you focus on your present—on Su-bin.

You finish preparing everything, get dressed for work, and head back to the bedroom. The sight of your little boy, still snuggled under the blanket, brings a soft chuckle to your lips. His tiny frame barely takes up any space, but his presence fills your heart.

You walk over and sit beside him, brushing his messy hair out of his face. "Wake up, Su-bin," you whisper gently, rubbing his back. He stirs a little but doesn’t open his eyes, determined to stay asleep. You smile, scooping him into your arms. "Binie, wake up, baby. You need to go to school."

He squirms in your arms, burying his face against your shoulder, his voice groggy with sleep. "When I find Kookie Uncle, I'm gonna tell him you don’t let me sleep," he mumbles, his words muffled but clear enough to make you laugh.

You kiss his head, rocking him gently. "Oh, really? You're going to tell Kookie Uncle on me, huh?" you coo. "Well, you need to grow big and strong to find him, and for that, you need to eat breakfast and wake up on time. So, come on, Binie, let’s get ready."

Su-bin sighs dramatically, his little body heavy with reluctance as he slowly gets off the bed. His pout is adorable as he drags his feet toward the bathroom. You can’t help but smile at his stubbornness.

Just as he reaches the door, he turns back, rubbing his eyes. "Call me if you need help washing up," you remind him, leaning against the doorframe.

From inside the bathroom, his small voice echoes back, full of sleepy pride. "Come on, Mommy, I’m a big boy now. I can wash up myself."

You chuckle, shaking your head at his confidence. "Yes, yes, a four-year-old big boy."

You drop Su-bin off at kindergarten, watching as his tiny figure disappears into the classroom. He turns around one last time, waving at you with a bright smile. “Bye, Mommy!” he calls out, and your heart warms for a moment, his happiness a small comfort. You wave back, forcing a smile, before turning to head to work.

But your heart sinks as reality sets in.

Work isn’t in some nice office building, nor is it anything close to what you once dreamed of. No, you work in a factory—backbreaking labor, and what’s worse, it’s owned by the Jeons. The bitter irony twists in your chest as you walk through the gates. The title of CEO of The Klitch Pharmaceuticals, the property, everything belonged to you. But destiny has a cruel sense of humor. Now, you labor in the same place that should have been your legacy, but instead, it’s your prison.

You call it the suffering game. Life, dealing its cards in the most painful way. No one around you knows who you really are—who you once were. To them, you’re just another worker, struggling to get by. You don’t want to be here, but what choice do you have? You have to provide for Su-bin, give him a life better than the one you’re living.

As you walk into the factory, a sharp pain hits your head. Startled, you look up to see the production officer standing over you, her face twisted in disdain. She smacked you.

“You’re 20 minutes late,” she sneers, her voice dripping with condescension. “Care to explain why?”

You rub the sore spot on your head, keeping your voice steady despite the sting. “I went to drop my son off at school. I missed the bus.”

The officer scoffs, her eyes narrowing as she looks you up and down. The pity and humiliation in her gaze make your stomach turn. “Your son, huh?” she spits out, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “Do you have enough money to send him school.”

Her words hit hard, but you’ve built walls around yourself over the years. You don’t flinch, not anymore. You’re used to it—the harsh words, the insults. The shame. She curses under her breath, shooing you away with a flick of her hand. “Go on, get to work. Stop wasting my time.”

You bite your tongue, forcing yourself not to respond, not to let the anger bubbling inside you spill over. You just nod, lowering your head as you walk toward your station. The pain in your chest is familiar, the weight of your circumstances heavy as always. You slip into the monotonous rhythm of the job, hands moving mechanically, mind racing elsewhere.

For now, you endure. You have no other choice. This is the life you’ve been dealt… for now.

As the factory day comes to an end, the whistle blows, signaling the workers to gather in the corridor. You follow the crowd, your muscles aching from the day’s labor. It’s unusual for everyone to be called like this, so there’s a nervous energy in the air.

One man steps forward, saying something quietly to the production officer, who nods and clears her throat loudly to get everyone’s attention.

“LISTEN UP!” she barks, her voice sharp. “Mr. Jeon Is Coming For An Inspection Tomorrow. I Expect Everyone To Be Here Twenty Minutes Early. Make Sure Everything Is In Order. Understood?”

A murmur of acknowledgment ripples through the group, heads nodding, people exchanging nervous glances. As everyone starts to disperse, you stand frozen, your mind racing.

Taking a deep breath, you approach your senior, hoping for a way out. "Can I take tomorrow off?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m not feeling well… I think I might have a fever."

Your senior turns to you, eyes narrowing. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” she shouts, her voice echoing in the corridor. “We’re already short on laborers, and you want a holiday? DO YOU THINK THIS FACTORY RUNS ON AIR?” She waves her hand dismissively, her tone growing harsher. “You’ll Be Here Tomorrow, Fever Or Not. Now Get Out Of My Sight.”

Her words sting, but you’re not surprised. You’ve heard worse. With a sigh, you nod, turning away without another word. It seems like there’s no escaping it this time. For five years, you’ve managed to avoid him, deliberately taking days off whenever Jungkook came to inspect the factory. You don’t want him to see you in this condition; at least you are not ready to face him. But now… you’ll have to face him.

Heaviness settles in your chest as you gather your things. With one last glance at your senior, you leave the factory quietly, the weight of tomorrow pressing down on you like a storm waiting to break.

You sit on the edge of Su-bin's bed, worry creasing your forehead as you gently rub his back. His little body shakes with a cough, his face flushed red from the effort. “Mommy, I’m okay,” he says in a weak voice, his lips forming a small pout. His eyes, so innocent, show more strength than a four-year-old should have.

You smile at him, trying to ease the tightness in your chest. Su-bin never asks too many questions, never makes a fuss. He understands everything like a good boy, even when you wish he wouldn’t have to.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” you ask, brushing a lock of hair from his face.

He nods, still pouting. “You should go to work,” he mumbles, blinking up at you.

You let out a soft sigh and nod, knowing there’s no choice. “Alright,” you say softly, “I’ve already made food for you. Remember; don’t open the door for anyone, okay? And don’t touch the knives or the stove.”

Su-bin nods dutifully. “I won’t,” he promises.

You kiss his forehead gently, and with one last glance, you leave, your heart heavy.

When you finally reach the factory, you’re running late—again. The moment you step through the door, pain explodes on the side of your head. A sharp smack that catches you off guard.

Your senior is standing there, glaring at you, her face twisted in fury. "I TOLD EVERYONE TO BE HERE 20 MINUTES EARLY!" she shouts, her voice filled with venom. "And you have the nerve to show up 30 minutes late? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND, OR DO YOU THINK YOU'RE THE OWNER OF THIS FACTORY?"

“I’m sorry—” you start, but before you can finish, another sharp smack lands on your head, the sting making your eyes water.

“Sorry?!” she sneers. “Do you think ‘sorry’ is going to get the work done? I swear, you're useless. Always making excuses with your kid. If it weren't for how short-staffed we are, you'd be out on the street where you belong.” Her words are like knives, cutting deep.

“I—”

“I Don't Care!” she snaps, cutting you off again. “You think you're something special because you have a sob story? Newsflash, nobody cares about your miserable life!” She curses under her breath, shoving you toward the site.

Before she can continue, one of the other employees runs up, looking breathless. "Mr. Jeon has arrived," she says urgently.

Your senior growls, throwing you one last disgusted look. “Get out of my sight. Change into your uniform and be back here in five minutes. And if you're late again, I swear…”

You nod quickly, not daring to argue. With your heart pounding in your chest, you rush to the changing room.

With shaking hands, you grab your work clothes and change as quickly as you can, knowing there’s no escaping this now.

After changing into your work uniform, you head straight to your station. You begin working immediately, keeping your head down, focusing on the task at hand. The rhythmic clinking of bottles and machinery fills the room, offering a strange sense of comfort in its repetition. Your hands move automatically, sorting, packing, counting—anything to avoid thinking about who is walking through the factory today.

An hour passes. The tension in your chest hasn’t eased, but you push through, telling yourself it’s just another day. You can handle this. You’ve handled worse.

Suddenly, you hear voices approaching. Your heart races. You don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“Mr. Jeon, this is the paracetamol unit,” Michelle, the production officer, says proudly as they arrive at your station. “We ensure every precaution is taken here to maintain hygiene and safety standards. No room for errors.”

You can feel Jungkook’s presence near you, but you keep your eyes locked on your work, your fingers moving even faster. The very air feels heavier with him so close.

Jungkook nods in approval as he surveys the station. “Everything seems in order,” he says in a calm voice that hasn’t changed, though it’s deeper now. You close your eyes for a moment, swallowing hard, trying to ignore the familiar pang of emotion rising within you.

Jihoon, Jungkook’s secretary, walks up to him, handing over some reports. Jungkook quickly scans the papers before turning to Michelle. “Everything looks great,” he says, his tone professional, his eyes never lingering in one place for long. “Keep up the good work.”

You sigh as you watch Jungkook’s back fade from view, a quiet ache stirring in your chest. He doesn’t remember you. Why would he? He was only two years old when everything fell apart, when your family accused you of being responsible for your parents’ deaths and threw you out. The bitterness of that memory settles heavily inside you, but there’s no time to dwell on it.

During a lunch break, few workers are banging on the door, their faces pale with panic. Michelle storms out, glaring at them for interrupting her lunch.

“What’s going on?!” she snaps, clearly irritated by the disruption.

One of the employees, shaking with fear, stammers, “A g-girl… she fell… into the glass crushing chamber… where we were throwing broken bottles.”

Michelle’s eyes widen in horror, and without another word, she sprints toward the station. Jungkook, who had been passing by, overhears the commotion and runs after her.

By the time Michelle reaches the station, the scene is chaotic. Workers are shouting, some frantically pulling equipment away from the glass-crushing chamber.

Michelle’s voice cuts through the panic. “HELP HER! GET HER OUT OF THERE, NOW!” she screams at the top of her lungs.

Several employees rush forward, grabbing whatever they can find to pull you out. One man uses a long pole to push away the glass, while another carefully climbs into the chamber to lift you. Sweat drips down their faces as they work together, gingerly avoiding the sharp shards as they hoist you up. Each second feels agonizingly long, but finally, you’re lifted out and laid onto the cold floor, trembling and bleeding.

Jungkook kneels beside you, his eyes wide with shock and concern. You’re barely conscious, your vision blurry and fading in and out, but you instinctively reach for him, your fingers grasping onto his coat. His scent—a mixture of cologne and something faintly familiar—grounds you, even as pain pulses through your body.

Michelle drops to her knees next to you, her face pale with fear. She looks down at the mess of cuts and scrapes covering your arms, legs, and face. The sight of blood pouring from the gash on your forehead makes her stomach churn.

“SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!” Michelle shouts, her voice shaking with desperation. “NOW!”

One of the workers runs off to make the call, while Michelle takes your hand. “Yn, don’t close your eyes, okay? Stay with me,” she pleads, squeezing your hand as hard as she can. “Stay awake. Help is coming. You’re going to be fine.”

But the world around you starts to blur, the sounds of shouting and footsteps growing distant. You feel the warmth of Michelle’s grip and Jungkook’s presence beside you, but everything feels too far away, like you’re slipping into a dream.

“Stay with me,” Michelle begs again, her voice trembling with fear. She can see you fading, your eyes growing heavier with each passing second.

All you can think of is how everything hurts, how the pain is too much, and how you just want to let go, just for a second.

Just for a second.

Michelle paces back and forth in the hospital corridor, her face pale and stricken with guilt. The doctors are operating on you, and every second that passes feels like an eternity. She keeps glancing at the door to the operating room, biting her nails, silently praying that you pull through. She hadn’t realized how bad things had gotten until it was too late.

Jungkook arrives, his face unreadable but tense. He moves quickly toward Michelle, his presence alone commanding the room. But it’s not just him. His uncle, Mr. Jeon, walks in with him, his expression dark with anger. The moment they stop in front of Michelle, she braces herself, knowing what’s coming.

“This is your responsibility, Michelle!” Mr. Jeon’s voice booms through the hallway. “How could you let something like this happen? Especially on the day of my inspection?”

Michelle lowers her head, ashamed. “I didn’t know… I—I thought everything was under control.”

“You thought?” Mr. Jeon snaps, his frustration palpable. “A worker falls into a glass-crushing chamber, and you thought it was under control? How could you be so careless?”

Jungkook, standing beside his uncle, says nothing. His mind is elsewhere, caught in the storm of thoughts about what had just happened. He can't shake the image of you, lying on the cold floor, blood staining your clothes, barely conscious. He clenches his fists at his sides, his jaw tight.

But there’s something else eating at him—something Michelle told him. You don’t have a family, no one to take care of you except for your son. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He couldn't stay at the hospital, not after hearing that your son wasn’t well. Jungkook’s heart tugs with something unfamiliar, something he doesn’t quite know how to define. He has to make sure that your son is okay.

Leaving the tense atmosphere of the hospital, Jungkook drives to your house. His mind races as he wonders what kind of life you’ve been living. He doesn’t know much about you, but the weight of responsibility he feels keeps growing.

When he arrives, he parks in front of your small, modest home. It’s a far cry from the life he’s known—the luxurious homes, the wealth, the privilege. Jungkook stands outside for a moment, taking in the quiet neighborhood. Then, with a determined breath, he walks toward the door and knocks.

He waits, feeling the seconds stretch into eternity. The house feels so still. After a few moments, he knocks again, louder this time, hoping someone—your son—might answer. The idea of a child alone in the house, especially one who might be sick, weighs heavily on him. He has no idea what to expect, but something in his gut tells him that he can’t just walk away.

His hand raised to knock on the door again, but before he can, he hears a small voice from inside. "Eomma, is that you?"

Startled, Jungkook quickly responds, “No, I’m your eomma’s boss. I came to take you to her.”

There’s a moment of silence before the child’s voice pipes up again, more cautious this time. “Ajusshi, you can’t fool me. I’m a big boy now, and eomma told me not to open the door for strangers.”

Jungkook can’t help but be impressed by the boy’s intelligence and caution. He smiles, but the urgency of the situation presses on him. "I’m not a bad person," he tries to assure the boy. “I’m really here to help you. Your eomma needs me to take you to her.”

From behind the door, the boy’s voice takes on a slightly firmer tone, still muffled but determined. “Ajusshi, you should leave now, or I’ll call the police. Eomma said never to trust anyone we don’t know.”

Jungkook sighs, knowing that reasoning with the boy is futile. He’s not going to open the door, no matter how much he tries to explain himself. The seconds tick by, and Jungkook can’t help but feel the weight of time. He needs to get Subin to the hospital.

Just then, an elderly woman appears from the apartment next door, hobbling over with a cane. She eyes Jungkook with curiosity, taking in the sight of him standing in front of the door. “Excuse me, young man, do you need something? Why are you here?”

Jungkook turns to her, explaining hurriedly, “I’m here to pick up a little boy. His mother works for me, and she’s in the hospital right now. He’s alone, but he won’t open the door.”

The old woman nods, understanding the gravity of the situation. “Ah, I know Subin. Poor boy, he’s always so careful.” She leans in closer to the door and calls out softly, “Subin-ah, it’s Grandma Lee. You can open the door now, sweetie. This man is here to take you to your eomma.”

There’s a moment of hesitation from behind the door, and then the sound of locks being undone. Slowly, the door creaks open, revealing a small boy standing in the doorway, clutching a stuffed toy. His wide eyes are red from crying, but his expression is still guarded.

He looks up at Jungkook, then back at Grandma Lee, his little brow furrowed. “Is Eomma really okay?” he asks in a small, shaky voice.

Grandma Lee smiles warmly at him. “Yes, your eomma is fine. This man will take you to her. Don’t worry, sweetie.”

Subin looks at Jungkook again, his grip on the stuffed toy loosening slightly as he processes the situation. Finally, with a deep breath, he steps back, allowing them inside. Jungkook kneels down to his level, offering a kind smile. “I promise I’ll take you to your eomma,” he says gently.

Jungkook touches Subin’s forehead, feeling the intense heat radiating from the child’s skin. He frowns, worry clouding his face. "He’s burning up," Jungkook mutters under his breath, gently holding Subin closer. He thanks the old woman again for her help, then swiftly carries Subin inside, settling him on the small bed in the corner of the apartment.

Subin pouts, watching Jungkook closely, eyes wide with curiosity. Jungkook smiles softly at the boy as he helps him change into more comfortable clothes. Subin’s watchful gaze doesn’t leave Jungkook as he carries him out to his car.

Throughout the drive to the hospital, Subin continues to steal glances at Jungkook, his eyes silently observing the man who seems so kind but still unfamiliar. When they finally reach the hospital, Jungkook takes him directly to a doctor, who checks him over quickly and gives him medicine to bring the fever down.

Once Subin has taken the medicine, they sit together in the waiting area outside the operating room where Yn is being treated. Subin, now resting his head against Jungkook’s chest, looks up at him with a questioning gaze. “Ajusshi, where’s eomma?” he asks, his voice small and weak from exhaustion.

Jungkook hesitates but offers a reassuring smile. "Your eomma is just a little hurt. The doctors are taking care of her right now."

Subin nods slowly, still clearly worried, but the medicine soon begins to take effect. His eyelids grow heavy, and before long, he drifts off to sleep in Jungkook’s arms.

Jungkook looks down at the small boy curled up against him, a mixture of emotions stirring inside. Everything about this situation feels strange, unfamiliar. He doesn’t know Yn, or at least he doesn’t think he does—yet something about her feels oddly close, as if she belongs to a part of his life that he doesn’t fully understand.

Just then, the doors to the operating room open, and Jungkook quickly stands, still holding Subin protectively. Michelle is already on her feet, rushing toward the doctors, and Jungkook follows her closely.

The doctor removes his mask and sighs heavily, shaking his head. "The impact was severe. We’ve treated the bruises and the wounds, but... she’s in a coma now. We can’t say when or if she’ll wake up."

Jungkook feels the shock hit him like a wave. He glances at Subin, still asleep in his arms, blissfully unaware of how much their lives have just changed. What is he supposed to say to him? How does he tell this little boy that his mother might not wake up for a long time, or ever?

Jungkook takes a deep breath, collecting himself, and turns to the doctor. "Please move her to a VIP ward. Make sure she gets the best care."

The doctor nods and steps away to make the necessary arrangements. Michelle watches Jungkook, confused by the intensity of his concern for a woman he barely knows—or at least appears to barely know. She steps forward, trying to offer help. "I can take Subin home if you want. You’ve done enough already."

But Jungkook shakes his head, his grip on Subin tightening just slightly. "No. I’ll take care of him."

Michelle blinks, surprised by the firmness in his tone, but she nods and steps back. "Alright... I’ll head back to the factory and make sure no one spreads rumors about this."

Jungkook barely acknowledges her, his focus entirely on Subin as he walks toward the VIP ward, the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders. He could have left. He could have walked away, but for some reason, he can’t. Something inside him won’t let him leave them alone.

And that thought lingers with him, unsettling and unfamiliar, as he watches over the sleeping child in his arms.

Jungkook looks at Subin, who is now wide awake, his big eyes fixed intently on him. The boy’s curiosity is palpable, and it almost makes Jungkook smile despite the heaviness of the situation.

“Subin-ah,” Jungkook starts softly, looking down at the small boy in his lap, “Where’s your father?”

Subin stops playing with the button on Jungkook’s shirt and looks up. His small face grows somber, and he replies in a soft voice, “God took him away.”

Jungkook’s heart tightens at the innocence in his voice. “God took him?”

“Mm,” Subin nods. “My eomma told me he was a nice man. He protected our country, so God took him away to keep him safe.” There’s a sad acceptance in his voice, and it hits Jungkook harder than he expects.

Jungkook reaches out, brushing Subin’s hair back gently. “I’m sorry, Subin.”

Subin looks up at him again and suddenly says, “Ajusshi, you should call my Kookie uncle. He can help.”

Jungkook tilts his head, intrigued. “Kookie uncle?” he repeats, unsure who Subin is talking about.

Subin pouts, his tiny lips pulling downward. “But I don’t know where he lives…” His voice trails off, clearly frustrated with the thought.

Jungkook, still thinking about this mysterious “Kookie uncle,” asks gently, “Who is he, Subin? Can you tell me more about him?”

Subin’s face brightens at the chance to talk about his uncle. “He’s Eomma’s younger brother! But Eomma says he got lost when he was a child, so we have to find him.” The boy’s innocent sincerity tugs at Jungkook’s heart.

Jungkook’s expression softens, deeply impressed by Subin’s maturity and the way he talks with such care. The boy may be young, but there’s a quiet strength in him. “Do you have a picture of your Kookie uncle?” Jungkook asks, smiling gently. “Maybe I can help you find him.”

Subin’s eyes sparkle with excitement at the idea. “Yes! We have a picture at home!” he says eagerly, the sadness from earlier momentarily forgotten.

Jungkook chuckles softly, warmed by Subin’s enthusiasm. “Alright, we’ll look at that picture when we get home.” For some reason, the thought of leaving Subin alone now seems unthinkable to him. Until Yn recovers, he feels an unexplainable responsibility to keep the boy safe.

Making his decision, Jungkook stands up, gently lifting Subin into his arms. “Let’s go home for now, okay?” he says quietly, and Subin nods, wrapping his small arms around Jungkook’s neck, his trust in this stranger already clear.

When they arrive back at Yn's small house, Jungkook and Subin work together to pack some clothes. Subin, buzzing with energy, runs around trying to find the photo of his Kookie uncle. His little feet patter across the floor as he searches every corner, every drawer. Finally, he stops and looks up at Jungkook, his lips quivering. “I’m sorry, Ajusshi… I can’t find the picture. I don’t know where it is.”

Jungkook kneels down beside him and gently pulls him into a hug. “It’s okay, Subin. You don’t have to worry. We’ll look for it another time, alright?”

Subin nods, feeling comforted by Jungkook’s warmth. Together, they finish packing a small bag of clothes for Subin. After locking the house, they make their way to Jungkook’s car.

As they drive to Jungkook’s home, Subin sits quietly, his wide eyes gazing out the window. When they pull up to Jungkook’s large house, Subin stares in awe. His little voice pipes up, filled with determination, “When I grow up, I’ll buy a house like this for Eomma.”

Jungkook smiles, impressed by Subin’s sweet, caring heart. “For that you need to study really hard and eat healthy food,” he says, his voice soft yet full of encouragement.

They enter the house, and Subin’s eyes grow even wider as he takes in the large rooms and beautiful décor. His small hand clings to Jungkook’s as they walk through the house. When they reach the living room, Jungkook’s family is already there, looking curiously at Subin.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and starts explaining the situation to them. He tells them about Subin, how they met, and reminds them of the incident at the factory. His aunt, who had been listening intently, nods thoughtfully. “I’ll ask the maid to prepare a room for him,” she says, standing up to take care of the arrangements.

Jungkook, however, glances down at Subin, who is still holding his hand tightly, his large eyes scanning the faces of the family members before him. He bends down and whispers, “Subin-ah, these are my family members.”

Without hesitation, Subin lets go of Jungkook’s hand and gives a polite, full 90-degree bow to the family. “Annyeonghaseyo. My name is Kim Subin!” he announces confidently, his small voice echoing in the large room.

Jungkook’s family smiles, charmed by the boy’s manners and the way he speaks with such maturity. His aunt, still standing nearby, looks back at Jungkook. “Are you sure you don’t want him to have his own room?” she asks.

Jungkook shakes his head, looking down at Subin, who is now peeking up at him with big, curious eyes. “He’s too small to be alone. I’ll keep him in my room for now,” Jungkook says gently.

His aunt nods in understanding, and Jungkook leads Subin upstairs. As they walk to Jungkook’s room, Subin glances around the house one last time, still in awe of its size and beauty. “Your house is really big, Ajusshi,” Subin says with a small smile.

Jungkook chuckles. “It’s your house too now, Subin, at least for a little while.”

Three Months Later-

Subin sits cross-legged on the floor in the living room, munching on small slices of apple that Jungkook's aunt carefully feeds him. Over the months, he has become a favorite among the family, his bright energy and adorable manners capturing everyone's hearts. His laughter fills the house as he chats with Jungkook’s aunt, his tiny voice filling the room.

Soon, Jungkook enters the room, holding his grandfather’s hand gently. His grandfather’s health has been deteriorating recently, so Jungkook is extra cautious, guiding him slowly to a comfortable spot on the couch. They all settle into the seats, Jungkook sitting beside his grandfather as the old man leans back, trying to catch his breath.

Suddenly, a coughing fit overtakes the elderly man, his body shaking slightly. Subin’s eyes widen, and without a second thought, he jumps up from his spot. “Wait here, Harabeoji!” he says and runs toward the kitchen with his little feet pattering quickly across the floor.

A few moments later, Subin returns, carefully carrying a glass of water. He hands it to Jungkook’s grandfather with both hands, his expression serious. “Here, drink some water, Harabeoji,” Subin says softly.

Jungkook’s grandfather takes the glass with a grateful smile, his eyes twinkling as he pats Subin’s head. “Thank you, Subin-ah,” he says warmly, his voice filled with affection.

Subin’s face brightens at the praise, but his attention quickly shifts to something else. His curious eyes spot an old photo album resting on the coffee table. He points to it and looks up at Jungkook’s grandfather. “Harabeoji, can I see that picture book?” he asks eagerly.

Jungkook, sitting nearby, chuckles at Subin’s innocent excitement. He lifts Subin onto his lap and pulls the photo album closer. “Let’s take a look together, okay?” Jungkook says with a gentle smile, flipping open the cover of the album.

The first page reveals a black-and-white photograph of Jungkook’s grandparents from many years ago. Subin’s eyes widen as he points at the picture. “Is that you, Harabeoji?” he asks, his voice full of awe.

Jungkook’s grandfather chuckles softly, nodding. “Yes, that’s me and your Halmeoni when we were much younger,” he replies.

They continue to flip through the pages, each photograph bringing laughter and memories. From family vacations to birthday celebrations, Subin is fascinated by it all, his small fingers tracing the faces in the pictures.

As they reached the end of the photo album, Subin grew unusually quiet. Jungkook noticed and glanced down at the boy, curious about his sudden silence. "What's wrong, Subin-ah?" Jungkook asked gently, tilting his head to see the boy's expression more clearly.

Subin looked up at Jungkook, his face scrunched in confusion, and asked, “Ajusshi, why do you have my Kookie uncle’s picture here? Do you know him?”

Jungkook blinked, taken aback. "Your Kookie uncle?" he repeated, clearly puzzled. “Where did you see your Kookie uncle in here?”

Without saying another word, Subin flipped back a few pages, his tiny fingers turning the old, worn-out sheets of the album. He stopped at a picture and pointed with certainty. It was a photograph of Jungkook when he was only one year old, his wide eyes and toothless smile captured in a happy family moment. “Here,” Subin said, pointing at the baby in the picture. “This is my Kookie uncle.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened as he looked at the photo, then back at Subin. “This baby is... me?” he asked, confused.

But Subin was firm in his response. He glanced back at the photo and shook his head, “No, this is my Kookie uncle.”

Jungkook looked around the room, his confusion growing. His family members, especially his uncle, exchanged uneasy glances. The tension in the room thickened as they all listened to the young boy’s insistence.

Jungkook’s uncle cleared his throat and spoke up, trying to make sense of the situation. “Subin-ah, are you sure? Maybe you’re mistaken?” His voice was gentle, but there was an edge of concern in his tone.

Subin shook his head again, his eyes wide with certainty. “No, I’m not mistaken. He’s my Kookie uncle,” he said, his voice unwavering.

His uncle, seated nearby, visibly tensed. The rest of the family members were frozen in place, their eyes locked on Jungkook and Subin. Slowly, the realization began to sink in. They all knew Jungkook had been too young to remember much about the family’s past—about the tragedy that had torn their family apart when he was just a child.

Jungkook's phone started ringing, cutting through the quiet moment with Subin on his lap. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was from the hospital. He quickly answered, and the nurse on the other end informed him, "Yn is awake now." Relief washed over him as he hung up. Without a second thought, he scooped Subin up in his arms and rushed out of the house, heading straight to the hospital.

When they arrived at Yn's ward, Subin wiggled excitedly in Jungkook’s arms, eager to see his mother. Jungkook gently set him down, and Subin wasted no time. He ran to the bed where Yn was sitting up, looking pale but awake. “EOMMA!” Subin called, throwing his small arms around her and laying beside her, hugging her tightly.

Yn smiled softly, her eyes filled with warmth as she ruffled his hair. “Subin-ah,” she whispered, her voice tired but full of love.

Then, Yn’s gaze lifted and landed on Jungkook, who stood by the door, his hands clasped in front of him awkwardly. She bowed slightly in him direction, “Thank you for helping my kid,” she said, her voice sincere but distant. She had so much she wanted to say, so many things that lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she held back. She knew Jungkook didn’t remember her, and now wasn’t the time to bring up the past.

Jungkook gave her a small nod in return, his eyes flickering with something unspoken.

Before the silence could stretch too long, Subin sat up on the bed and looked at his mother with wide, excited eyes. “Eomma! I saw Kookie uncle’s photo in Ajusshi’s house!” Subin exclaimed, his small hands gesturing animatedly. “He knows Kookie uncle! He will help us find him!”

Yn’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Kookie. She looked at Jungkook, her chest tightening. Subin’s innocent words carried more weight than the child could understand, then she smiled at Subin, gently brushing a strand of hair from his face. “We’ll find him, Subin-ah,” she whispered softly, though her heart ached knowing the truth was far closer than her son realized.

Jungkook left the hospital, his mind unable to shake off Subin’s words. The little boy's innocent declaration about "Kookie uncle" kept replaying in his head, stirring something deep within him. As he reached his home, just about to enter his room, his aunt’s voice called out to him.

“Jungkook-ah, come here for a moment,” she said softly.

Curious, he turned and headed towards her room. She sat there, holding a folder in her hands. “What is this?” Jungkook asked, feeling an unusual tension in the air. His aunt handed him the folder without saying a word, her face serious but filled with some hidden sadness.

Jungkook took it, confused, and opened it. As soon as he saw the contents—medical reports—his hands began to tremble. His heart raced, and he looked up at his aunt, unable to speak.

“These are your DNA results... and Subin’s,” she said quietly. “He is your nephew, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s mind went blank for a second. “How is that possible?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His thoughts raced as he tried to piece everything together.

His aunt sighed, clearly finding the conversation difficult. “There’s something you need to know,” she said, reaching for a photo album and gently placing it in Jungkook’s hands. “Sit down, and look.”

Jungkook slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his hands shaking as he opened the album. The photos inside were old, their edges yellowing slightly with age. His eyes landed on one picture in particular—his parents stood smiling, a baby Jungkook in their arms. But there was something else, someone else. A little girl stood beside them, smiling brightly.

Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat, his fingers brushing over the girl’s face. “Who… who is she?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

His aunt’s eyes were filled with sorrow. “She is your older sister, Yn,” she said softly. “The one we never told you about.”

Jungkook sat frozen, tears streaming down his face as his aunt continued her story.

“When your parents died in that car accident, Yn was the one who saved you,” she began, her voice heavy with emotion. “When we arrived at the scene, we saw Yn sitting there in the rain, holding onto you so tightly, staring at the burning car in silence. She had a blank look, but her small body was trembling. She was only five, Jungkook.”

Jungkook's aunt sighed, her eyes misty as she relived the painful memory. “Your grandparents... they were devastated. But instead of grief, they let anger take over. Yn was never truly accepted by them. They believed she was... a curse, a bad omen for the family. And when they heard about your parents’ death, they couldn’t think rationally. Your grandmother threw Yn out of the house that very day, in her rage.”

Jungkook’s heart shattered. His older sister, who was just a child, had been cast out in the midst of tragedy, alone in the world with nowhere to go. His aunt’s words struck him like a thunderstorm. "She cried, not because they were abandoning her," his aunt continued, her voice trembling, "but because she had promised your mother that she would never leave your side. Even at that young age, she was more worried about you than herself."

Jungkook wiped at his eyes, but the tears kept falling. “How... how could they do that to her?” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His throat felt raw, and his chest ached with the weight of the truth. He looked up at his aunt, his gaze filled with anguish. "Where were you and uncle when they did something so cruel to her? How could you just stand by and let it happen?"

His aunt looked down, shame evident in her expression. She couldn’t meet his gaze. “We... we didn’t stop them. We should have, but we didn’t. We were scared, we were mourning too... but that’s no excuse. We failed her, Jungkook. We failed Yn.”

Jungkook clenched his fists, the anger bubbling up inside him. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. The family he thought he knew had kept this dark secret from him, and they had abandoned his only sister. Without saying another word, he stormed out of the house, his mind swirling with emotion.

He drove straight to the hospital, determined to see Yn. He had to find her. When he arrived at the hospital, he ran to the reception desk. “Where is Yn? Jeon Yn?” he asked breathlessly.

The nurse looked up at him with a polite but apologetic expression. “I’m sorry, sir, but Miss Jeon has already been discharged.”

Jungkook’s heart sank. “Discharged? Where did she go?”

The nurse handed him a folded piece of paper. “She left this note for you.”

Jungkook’s hands trembled as he unfolded the note. His heart raced, fearing what it might say. He read the words slowly, each one cutting deeper than the last.

“Thank you, Mr. Jeon, for helping me and my child. I will always be grateful and will pay you back all the money you spent in the hospital, little by little.”

Jungkook stared at the note, disbelief washing over him. She was ready to disappear again, just as she had been forced to all those years ago. He clutched the note in his hand, frustration and sadness swirling inside him.

He couldn’t let her go. Not again. Not after everything she had endured. He had to find her and make things right.

Jungkook stood outside Yn’s small house, heart pounding. His mind raced with questions—did Yn know who he was all along, or was she unaware of their shared history? He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he was ready for the answers, but the thought of leaving her again was unbearable. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

The door swung open, and Subin appeared with a wide grin. “Ajussi!” he squealed in delight, throwing his small arms around Jungkook’s legs.

Jungkook immediately knelt down, pulling Subin into his arms and hugging him tightly, tears welling up in his eyes. His emotions overwhelmed him as he clung to the little boy.

The boy looked up at him, his little eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong, Ajussi? Why are you crying? Did someone bully you? Tell me, I’ll fight them!” Subin declared with a fierce pout, ready to defend Jungkook.

Jungkook chuckled, his heart warming despite the tears. He kissed the top of Subin’s head. “No one’s bullying me, Subin-ah. I just missed you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He gently put Subin down and stepped inside, glancing around the small but cozy space.

He spotted Yn in the kitchen, her back turned as she stirred a pot. Jungkook took a deep breath and walked over. Yn sensed his presence and turned around, giving him a polite bow.

“You’re here again, Mr. Jeon. Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice steady but distant. Jungkook could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she avoided looking directly at him.

“Noona,” Jungkook said softly, his voice cracking slightly.

Yn froze, her face betraying her shock for a brief moment. She quickly composed herself, but Jungkook had already seen the truth in her eyes. She knew. She had known all along. She turned away from him, busying herself with the food, pretending to be unfazed, but her trembling hands gave her away.

“I... I didn’t know if you knew,” Jungkook said, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “But you do, don’t you?”

Yn didn’t answer immediately. She kept stirring the pot, her silence speaking volumes. After what felt like an eternity, she finally turned to him, still not meeting his eyes. “Dinner is almost ready. Will you stay and eat with us?” she asked, her voice flat, emotion buried deep beneath the surface.

Jungkook’s heart ached. She was putting up walls, trying to distance herself, but he wasn’t going to let her do it this time. He nodded silently, accepting her offer. He couldn’t push her—not yet.

They sat together at the small dining table, Subin chattering happily as he ate, oblivious to the tension in the air. Jungkook’s eyes kept drifting to Yn, watching the way she carefully served Subin and herself, avoiding looking at him. He felt a wave of guilt and sadness. She had been cast aside, abandoned, and now he was here, after all these years, but he didn’t know how to fix any of it.

As they ate in silence, the reality of the situation weighed heavily on Jungkook. His noona—his sister—had lived through so much pain, alone. She had raised a child, survived on her own, all while knowing who he was and choosing not to reveal the truth.

Jungkook sat beside Yn, holding Subin, who had fallen asleep in his arms. The little boy clung to Jungkook even in his sleep, his small hand resting on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook gazed down at Subin, his heart swelling with emotion. He looked over at Yn, who was sitting quietly, her eyes distant.

With a soft voice, Jungkook asked, "What happened to Subin’s dad?"

Yn’s eyes flickered with pain as she glanced at Subin, her expression softening. “He was in the military,” she began quietly, her voice steady but heavy with grief. “He lost his life while saving children during a mission. He was always brave, always putting others before himself.”

Jungkook nodded, his chest tightening at her words. He looked at Subin, now understanding the weight of the loss this small boy had already endured. Tears welled up in Jungkook's eyes as he looked back at Yn. “Noona, how did you manage everything on your own? You raised Subin by yourself... you’ve been through so much.” His voice cracked, his emotions spilling over.

Yn took a deep breath, her gaze still fixed on Subin. Her voice was quiet and soft, filled with the weight of years of hardship. “When they threw me out of the house, I had nowhere to go. I wandered around for hours, not knowing what to do. That’s when I met Mrs. Lee. She was an old lady who lived alone. She found me sitting on a bench, crying. She asked me if I had anywhere to go, and when I told her I didn’t, she offered me a place to stay.”

 “She didn’t have much,” Yn continued, her voice steady despite the pain in her eyes. “But she gave me a roof over my head and food to eat. She didn’t have the money to send me to school, but she took care of me like I was her own. When I turned 18, I decided it was time for me to move out, but I didn’t want to leave her. I stayed nearby, working odd jobs to support myself and help Mrs. Lee.”

Jungkook wiped away the tears that were now streaming down his face, unable to imagine the hardships Yn had faced. “You were so strong, noona,” he whispered.

Yn shook her head gently. “I did what I had to do. While working at a factory, I met Min-Su. One day, a group of boys started harassing me on my way home. Min-Su happened to be there, and he stepped in to protect me. We became close, and eventually, we got married.”

Jungkook’s heart clenched as he watched Yn’s expression shift, the memories clearly painful. “A few years later, we had Subin,” Yn said, her voice barely above a whisper now. “But Min-Su never got to see his face. He was deployed before Subin was born, and he... he never came back.”

Tears flowed freely down Yn’s cheeks now, her shoulders trembling as she tried to keep her composure. “I’ve been raising Subin alone ever since,” she said, her voice breaking.

Jungkook could feel his own tears falling as well. He reached over and gently placed his hand on Yn’s, squeezing it softly. “I’m so sorry, noona,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of this by yourself.”

Yn wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, her breath shaky. “It’s okay, Jungkook,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I did it for Subin. He’s my everything. And now... now that you’re here, I don’t feel so alone anymore.”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled Yn into a gentle embrace, his tears mingling with hers. “You’re not alone anymore, noona,” he whispered. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you and Subin.”

Yn shook her head in denial, her eyes filled with pain. "You shouldn’t have to protect me, Jungkook. You shouldn’t even be here in the first place," she whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

But Jungkook wasn’t about to let her push him away. He scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Noona, I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly, his voice full of sincerity. “You promised Eomma you’d never leave my side, so don’t leave me alone now. You have me. Let me protect you, from everything and everyone.”

Yn’s walls crumbled at his words. Years of bottled-up emotions finally overflowed as she broke down into tears, her body trembling against Jungkook’s. She had held in the pain for so long, trying to be strong, but now, in the warmth of her brother’s embrace, she allowed herself to cry.

After few years-

Yn stood there, holding her slippers threateningly as Jungkook and Subin stood in front of her, holding their ears like guilty schoolboys. "Noona, it was his plan!" Jungkook pointed at Subin, trying to save himself.

But Subin, quick as always, piped up. "Uncle is lying, Eomma! It was his plan to sneak the whole cake out!" He shot his uncle a betrayed look, throwing him under the bus.

Yn raised an eyebrow, looking between the two troublemakers. "Someone out there needs that cake more than us, Noona. I mean, the meat too!" Jungkook stammered, trying to defend himself.

Yn’s skeptical look didn’t waver. "Meat?" she repeated slowly.

Jungkook quickly ran outside and came back with a tiny puppy in his arms, wagging its tail. "See! This little guy!" But the puppy had other plans and immediately jumped out of Jungkook’s arms, running straight to Yn, wagging its tail furiously.

Yn couldn’t help but sigh, but the stern look remained as she pointed to the corner. "Both of you, timeout. Now. Face the wall."

Jungkook and Subin exchanged glances but obediently went to their 'timeout' spot, still holding their ears.

Just then, Areum walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, followed by her brother Jimin. "What did Jungkook do this time?" Areum laughed, clearly used to his antics.

Yn sighed deeply, shaking her head. "He and Subin tried to steal the cake. Again."

Areum laughed out loud, while Jimin grinned at Subin, who had already broken free from timeout to rush into his daddy’s arms. "Daddy!" Subin said, planting a quick kiss on Jimin’s cheek before settling comfortably on his lap.

The family sat down for a warm, hearty lunch, laughter filling the room. As they finished their meal, Jimin turned to Yn, holding her hand gently. "Yn," he said with a soft smile, "will you marry me?"

The table went silent, all eyes on Yn as she smiled and nodded. "Yes," she whispered, her heart full.

Jimin then grinned and added, “But let’s do it after Jungkook’s wedding. No more interruptions.”

Jungkook, who was just taking a bite, almost choked. "What?!" he exclaimed, eyes wide, while the room erupted into laughter.

The End!