Taehyung steps into the room quietly, a fond smile tugging at his lips the moment his eyes land on you sleeping on your study table.

Taehyung (softly): "She fell asleep here again..."

He walks over and kneels beside you, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face.

Taehyung (whispering with a smile): "You look so angelic when you're asleep. Hard to believe you're the same girl who can bleed ears with her sass."

Carefully, he slides one arm under your legs and the other behind your back, lifting you gently. You stir a little, but don’t wake.

He lays you down on your bed, tucks the blanket over you, and stands watching for a second longer.

Taehyung (soft chuckle): "My savage little angel."

He flicks off the light and walks out, closing the door behind him with quiet affection.

A loud, shrill voice pierces through the hallway.

Mrs. Kim (yelling from the kitchen): “Yn don't you dare to leave before finishing it, come out now!”

Taehyung groans, burying his face into his pillow before sitting up with a sigh. He runs his hand through his messy hair, clearly annoyed but not surprised.

Taehyung (muttering): “She must be awake... no way eomma’s yelling like that without a reason.”

Dragging himself out of bed, he walks toward the living room, mentally preparing for whatever chaos awaits.

As soon as he enters, it’s exactly what he expected—utter mayhem.

His mother is yelling from the kitchen while flipping pancakes like a woman on a mission. His father sits on the sofa with a newspaper, pretending to be invisible. And you—of course—sitting at the dining table with cotton stuffed in your ears, calmly chewing your toast like none of this is happening.

Just then, a loud smack lands on the back of your head.

Yn (yelping): “Ow! What the-l, Mom?!”

Mrs. Kim plucks the cotton balls out of your ears with two swift fingers.

Mrs. Kim (fuming): “Do you think I’m a robot? I’ve been running around since 6 in the morning, making breakfast, cleaning, yelling—and you just sit here ignoring me?”

You rub the back of your head and pout.

Yn: “I’m eating toast and pancakes! See? I’m not skipping breakfast. And anyway, I’m practically an adult. Adults don’t need to drink milk like babies.”

Mrs. Kim squints at you like she’s about to explode.

Mrs. Kim (mocking): “Oh yeah? A grown-up, are we? You’re fifteen! Your 24-year-old brother still drinks milk without whining. Look at you, acting like royalty.”

She turns to her husband, arms crossed.

Mrs. Kim: “And you! You just sit there like a statue! Say something!”

Mr. Kim flinches and slowly lowers the newspaper.

Mr. Kim (hesitant): “Yn… your mom’s right. You should… you know, drink the milk.”

You roll your eyes, pushing the glass away.

Yn (grumbling): “I’m lactose intolerant in my soul.”

You try to bolt out of your chair, but your mother is quicker. She grabs you by the wrist and yanks you back down.

Mrs. Kim (determined): “Oh no, you’re drinking this milk if it’s the last thing I do today.”

You squirm like a cornered animal, nose scrunched in disgust.

Yn: “This is actual torture! It’s like drinking venom!”

Taehyung leans on the wall, arms crossed, barely hiding his laughter as he watches you gag dramatically with each sip your mother forces you to take.

Taehyung (teasing): “Angel, huh? More like a demon in disguise.”

You shoot him a death glare mid-sip, but it only makes him laugh harder.

The streets of Seoul are busy as usual, cars honking and students rushing to school. Taehyung pulls up in front of your high school gate, the car coming to a smooth halt.

He glances to his side, expecting you to get out—but there you are, sitting in the passenger seat, grinning like a complete idiot at your phone.

Taehyung (sighing): “Yah…”

He leans over and swiftly snatches the phone out of your hands.

Taehyung (deadpan): “We’ve arrived.”

You blink at him, stunned, as if he just yanked your soul out of your body. You gasp, placing one hand over your chest in dramatic offense while the other flails toward the phone.

Yn (gasping): “Oppa! That’s mine! How dare you violate my privacy like this?”

Taehyung raises his hand, holding your phone just out of reach while giving you the older-brother death stare.

Taehyung (sternly): “It won’t work like that. You need discipline. And maybe… some actual brain cells.”

Your jaw drops.

Yn (scandalized): “Excuse me?! I have an IQ of 5000!”

Taehyung looks at you like you’ve just grown horns.

Taehyung: “That doesn’t exist. IQ 5000? Are you from another planet?”

You cross your arms and pout, still reaching for your phone.

Taehyung (firmly): “From tomorrow, you’re studying with me. No arguments.”

Your eyes widen like he just told you he’s confiscating your entire K-drama collection.

Yn: “Oppa, don’t you have your final med exams coming up? You should focus on that. I’m not worth your time, really. I can manage—totally. Calm down, okay?”

You flash him a sheepish smile and quickly open the car door before he can argue.

Yn (cheerfully): “Anyway, fighting for your finals! You’ll ace them. Byeeee!”

Before skipping out, you blow a kiss toward him, grinning like a child who just got away with stealing candy.

Taehyung catches the kiss in midair with exaggerated sarcasm, shaking his head.

Taehyung (to himself, sighing): “This girl’s gonna drive me insane.”

He watches you disappear through the school gates, still full of energy that should’ve logically burned out by now. With one last glance at the building, he sets your phone on the dashboard and pulls away, heading to his university—his own stack of textbooks and cadaver diagrams waiting for him.

Even with all that pressure, he can’t help but smile a little. You might be a handful, but you’re his favorite headache.

Taehyung steps into the living room, finally home after a long morning of lectures and lab sessions. He exhales deeply, ready to crash on the couch—but pauses when he sees three large suitcases lined up beside it.

His brows furrow.

Taehyung (confused): “What the...?”

Just then, Mr. Kim walks in from the hallway, dragging yet another travel bag behind him. He looks up and spots his son.

Mr. Kim (surprised): “Oh, you’re early, Tae.”

Taehyung flashes a polite smile, still eyeing the suspicious amount of luggage.

Taehyung: “Yeah, the last two classes got cancelled, so I figured I’d come home and study for finals here.”

Mr. Kim walks over and pats his back warmly.

Mr. Kim: “That’s good. Go get some rest first.”

But Taehyung isn’t ready to let it go. His eyes are glued to the suitcases.

Taehyung (suspicious): “Appa... are you going somewhere?”

Mr. Kim pauses, shifting awkwardly. His hand scratches the back of his neck as he forces a casual tone.

Mr. Kim: “Ah, well… yes. Your mom and I—we’re going on a short vacation. Just a month or two. Don’t worry.”

Taehyung squints at him, voice edged with suspicion.

Taehyung: “Vacation? Or… honeymoon?”

Mr. Kim lets out a nervous laugh, clearly caught.

Mr. Kim: “Come on, you’re old enough to understand. We just need a little time for ourselves, you know? It’s healthy.”

Taehyung sighs dramatically and flops onto the couch.

Taehyung (groaning): “Please enjoy your second honeymoon. But seriously—don’t. I can’t have another sibling. She’s already more than enough for me to handle. I’m maxed out.”

Before he can blink, a swift smack lands on the back of his neck.

Taehyung (yelping): “Ah—what the—”

He turns around to find Mrs. Kim standing there in full travel attire, arms crossed and lips pursed.

Mrs. Kim (mocking): “So what, huh? Trying to embarrass your father now?”

Taehyung (defensive): “No! No, I’m not trying to embarrass anyone! I’m just saying—I’m already suffering! Yn flips my life upside down on a daily basis. We don’t need another version of her, that’s all!”

Smack! Another hit, gentler this time but just as firm in intention.

Mrs. Kim (half-smiling): “Drama king. You’ll be fine. Just take care of her while we’re gone.”

She adjusts her handbag, about to leave when she suddenly remembers something.

Mrs. Kim: “Oh, and there’s a family meeting on Saturday. One of us needs to attend, so you go in our place. Got it?”

Taehyung rubs the back of his head and nods reluctantly.

Taehyung: “Yeah, yeah. Got it. Happy honeymoon or whatever.”

His parents exchange amused glances as they walk out the door, dragging their bags behind them.

Taehyung watches them leave with a deep breath.

Taehyung (muttering): “Two months alone with her. God help me.”

You drag yourself through the front door, your bag slung lazily over one shoulder, tie missing, shirt half-untucked, and face drained of energy.

Yn (mumbling): “Who’s… making bacon?”

The aroma hits you like a wave, and without a second thought, you slide—literally slide—toward the kitchen like a zombie led by instinct. There, in his apron and with a frying pan in hand, is none other than your brother, Taehyung.

He senses your presence before even turning around.

Taehyung (spinning around dramatically): “Woah, woah, woah! Did you go to a WWE match or straight-up World War III? Because that’s not what a high school student is supposed to look like.”

You blink, then look down at yourself. One sleeve is rolled up, the other hanging like a wilted flower. You sniff your arm, then look up at him confused.

Yn: “Do I smell bad? I didn’t notice…”

Taehyung sighs heavily, turning off the stove with exaggerated disappointment.

Taehyung: “Look at your uniform. Your shirt’s halfway out, your tie is MIA, and your hair looks like you’ve been electrocuted. Is your school teaching fashion or gangster cosplay now?”

You roll your eyes and march to the dining table, reaching for a plate like nothing happened. But before your fingers even touch the ceramic, Taehyung slaps your hand away—light but firm.

Taehyung (strictly): “Go. Wash up. You’re not eating in that warzone outfit.”

Yn (groaning): “Oppaaaa…”

Taehyung (coldly): “Now.”

You grumble like a scolded puppy, muttering curses under your breath as you stomp off toward the bathroom. Ten minutes later, you return in a clean hoodie and pajama pants, plopping down at the table again with messy damp hair.

Taehyung silently serves you your plate—crispy bacon, grilled meat, and freshly steamed rice. Both of you start eating in peaceful silence until you glance around.

Yn (curious): “Oppa… where’s eomma and appa?”

Taehyung (casually): “Vacation.”

You blink.

You: “What?”

Taehyung (calmly): “They left this morning. Probably at the airport now.”

You freeze mid-bite, eyes wide.

Yn (panicking): “They left without me?! What kind of betrayal is this?! CALL THEM. Tell them I choked on bacon and collapsed—”

Right on cue, you start coughing dramatically, banging your chest for effect.

Yn (gasping): “Tell them their youngest child couldn’t survive without their love and grilled pork!”

Taehyung rolls his eyes but pats your back as you continue coughing like an Oscar nominee. When you finally stop, he speaks with a blank expression.

Taehyung: “It’s their honeymoon.”

You stare at him, the silence stretching.

Yn (deadpan): “Oh. Never mind. I’ll just tell them I’m emotionally prepared for a new sibling.”

You grin wickedly and stuff more bacon into your mouth. Taehyung sighs deeply, like a man who’s given up on life.

Taehyung (grumbling): “Just eat. Please. Before I regret cooking.”

You flash him a greasy, satisfied smile.

Yn (cheerfully): “I love you, oppa.”

Taehyung: “I want a refund on that love.”

You peek into Taehyung’s room just as he buttons up his crisp white shirt. The morning light filters through the window, casting a soft glow on his focused face as he adjusts his collar. Panic begins bubbling in your chest. You rush toward him, arms half-raised like you're about to tackle him.

Yn (nervously): “Oppa, you don’t need to go. Seriously.”

Taehyung pauses and gives you a suspicious glance.

Taehyung: “What are you talking about?”

Yn (quickly): “I told them yesterday that our parents went on their second honeymoon!”

His hand stops mid-button.

Taehyung (shocked): “You didn't tell them that, did you?”

You shrug with a sheepish smile.

Yn: “I said they went on a short vacation… to Maldives.”

Taehyung squints.

Taehyung: “They went to Hawaii.”

You freeze, your eyes widening.

Yn (mumbling): “Oh…”

You shuffle closer to him, gently tugging on his sleeve.

Yn (seriously): “Oppa, there’s no need to go. Trust me—it’s not even that important.”

He studies your face for a long moment, quiet. His gaze narrows.

Taehyung (slowly): “You did something, didn’t you?”

Your expression pales.

Yn (nervously laughing): “What? No! Nothing like that. I just—I know your finals are near, and you’re going to be a doctor. You shouldn’t waste time on silly things like a family meeting. I’m just thinking of you!”

Taehyung lets out a deep sigh, then walks forward and holds your shoulders firmly.

Taehyung: “Don’t worry, little sister. Your brother is well prepared.”

With that, he gently spins you around and pushes you out of his room.

Taehyung (firmly): “Now go. Get ready.”

You (defeated, whining): “But oppaaa—”

Taehyung (yelling from behind the door): “No more excuses, now!”

You walk beside Taehyung, chewing your bottom lip, glancing around the school campus nervously like a criminal waiting to be caught. Taehyung doesn’t seem to notice—his hands are in his pockets, his expression calm. But every step toward your classroom feels like you’re walking to your execution.

As you both reach the front of your class, you peer inside through the glass panel and exhale in relief. The room looks empty.

Yn (quickly grabbing his arm): “See! I told you. No one’s here. These meetings are a joke—no one shows up for them. Let’s just go back. They must’ve gone home already.”

You start dragging him by the arm, walking backwards with a hopeful smile. You almost succeed in turning around when—

???: “Ms. Kim, YN?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights. Your hands slowly drop from Taehyung’s arm, and you turn around stiffly, your face contorting into a painfully polite smile.

Yn (bowing quickly): “Mr. Park! Nice meeting you today!”

Mr. Park raises a skeptical eyebrow, unimpressed.

Mr. Park: “Very respectful greeting for a student who’s usually late and always mysteriously sick on test days.”

You give an awkward laugh that sounds more like a dying cat. Just then, Taehyung turns around, his expression changing when he sees the man.

Taehyung (smiling): “Oh? Jimin? What are you doing here?”

He walks up and hugs him while you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Mr. Park—apparently Jimin—blinks in confusion and hugs back.

Jimin: “Taehyung? What are you doing here?”

Taehyung (gesturing at you): “My little sister. It’s her family meeting today, and I came since I’m her guardian for now. You're her homeroom teacher?”

Jimin (crossing his arms with a smirk): “What a pleasant surprise. Honestly, I thought no one was going to show up for YN.”

Taehyung’s brows furrow.

Taehyung: “Why would you think that?”

Jimin (tilting his head toward you): “Well… because when I specifically asked her to make sure someone from her family came, she told me her parents were on vacation… in the Maldives… and that her older brother now lives in South America.”

Taehyung’s jaw drops as he slowly turns his head toward you. You, in the meantime, have taken a deep interest in the floor tiles and are now mentally counting them like your life depends on it.

Yn (muttering to yourself): “One, two, three… oh this one has a crack…”

Taehyung (whispering through gritted teeth): “South America?”

Yn (still counting): “Technically, it’s not that far if you think about it.”

Jimin (laughing): “She’s definitely got imagination, I’ll give her that.”

He opens the door and gestures toward the classroom.

Jimin: “Shall we? Let’s head into the chamber.”

Taehyung (grabbing your wrist): “We shall.”

You try to slink away quietly, but Taehyung tightens his grip and pulls you along as you dramatically drag your feet behind him like a prisoner being taken to trial.

Yn (whispering): “Oppa, if I cry during the meeting, will it soften the blow?”

Taehyung (flatly): “No.”

You sigh in defeat as the door shuts behind you. The trial is about to begin.

Jimin slides a thin stack of printed papers across the table, stopping them just in front of Taehyung. The air in the meeting room suddenly feels heavier, suffocating almost. You sit in the chair beside Taehyung, eyes glued to the floor, your fingers nervously tugging at the hem of your skirt.

Jimin (sighing as he folds his hands): “These are the reports from the past six months. Every time there’s a science or math class test, YN suddenly disappears—either she’s marked sick or simply doesn’t show up. And strangely, after the test ends, she just appears again, acting like she never missed anything.”

Taehyung’s jaw tightens. You feel his gaze shift toward you—sharp, cold, disappointed. You keep your eyes down, shrinking into your seat.

Jimin (voice firm but not cruel): “She’s always been one of our most diligent students. Smart, active, curious. But recently, she’s been tailing behind—not just in studies, but behavior-wise too. She’s been talking back to teachers, mocking seniors, and picking on her classmates.”

He pauses and lets out another deep sigh.

Jimin: “I didn’t report anything at first because, frankly… I thought she’d fix it. Yes, she teased students, but she always kept a boundary. Never anything too serious.”

You feel a flicker of hope, but then he continues—and his voice drops lower, heavier.

Jimin: “But a few days before the final exams, that changed. She misbehaved with a student. Stuck her leg out while he was walking past… he fell hard. Couldn’t stand. He was crying.”

You snap your head up.

Yn (blurting out): “But sir—it was just a prank! I didn’t mean for him to get hurt, I swear! I didn’t even push him—”

Your voice trails off as Taehyung turns to you, his eyes burning holes through your soul. You bite your lip and look back down.

Jimin (quietly, as if the words taste bitter): “That student’s name was Heeseung. He’s been battling bone cancer. That fall… it cost him the little strength he had in his legs. He’s in the hospital. He may never walk again.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your mind spins. Cancer? Hospital? You didn’t know. You just thought he was a bit dramatic—a quiet kid who always sat alone.

You whisper, almost to yourself:

“I didn’t know…”

Jimin: “And that, YN, is the problem. You didn’t care enough to know.”

Taehyung’s hands curl into fists on the table. He looks down at the report, then slowly back at you. You’ve never seen his eyes look so tired. So angry. So… disappointed.

Jimin pulls out another paper and gently places it on top of the stack.

Jimin: “This is the school board’s decision. It’s her suspension letter. One month. Effective immediately.”

The sound of your heartbeat is louder than the silence in the room. You swallow hard as Taehyung lifts the letter and scans it.

Then he looks at you—fire behind his eyes, betrayal written in every muscle of his face.

Taehyung (coldly): “Well? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Your body moves before your mind can catch up. You stand quickly and do a full 90-degree bow.

Yn (voice trembling): “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I didn’t know about Heeseung. I was stupid. I didn’t think…”

Yn (bowing again): “I’m sorry. I’ll apologize to him. I’ll do anything—just please, let me fix this.”

Taehyung doesn’t reply. He just stares at you in silence, eyes unreadable. Jimin leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he lets the moment hang.

You stay bowed, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes—not from being suspended, not from getting caught…

…but because, for the first time, you realize you’ve genuinely hurt someone. And maybe… maybe you've even lost a piece of your brother's trust.

As they stepped out of Jimin’s chamber, the silence between them was deafening. Taehyung’s footsteps echoed in the corridor, steady and sharp. You trailed behind, fiddling with the hem of your shirt, heart pounding.

Taehyung (stopping briefly, turning to Jimin): “Hyung, send me Heeseung’s hospital address. I want to meet him.”

Jimin nodded, already pulling out his phone. Within seconds, Taehyung’s phone buzzed.

Jimin (softly): “He’s in Seoul General. Orthopedic Ward.”

Taehyung gave a polite nod and continued walking, not sparing you a glance. You rushed after him.

Yn (panting as you catch up): “Oppa, I swear it was a mistake. I didn’t know he was sick, I just thought he was faking it to skip PE. I didn’t mean to hurt him—”

Taehyung (stopping and glaring at you): “Stop talking before I lose the last bit of patience I have left.”

Your words died instantly. That look—it wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment. Hurt. You nodded slowly, biting your lip as you followed him out of the school gates.

The drive was quiet. You sat in the passenger seat, eyes glued to the road ahead, too scared to even blink wrong. Taehyung’s grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles white. Every now and then, he’d sigh, but say nothing.

You kept glancing at him, wanting to say something—anything—but you didn’t dare. Not when his jaw was clenched like that.

Yn (mumbling to yourself): “I just wanted to mess around a little…”

Taehyung (without looking at you): “You wanted to mess around and someone lost his leg. Just think about that.”

The rest of the ride was a storm of silence and guilt.

After thirty long, suffocating minutes, Taehyung parked outside the large white building of Seoul General Hospital. You unbuckled your seatbelt slowly, feeling your palms grow sweaty.

As he opened the door and stepped out, you hesitated.

Yn (softly): “Oppa… what if he doesn’t want to see me?”

Taehyung didn’t look at you as he answered.

Taehyung: “Then you’ll still go and apologize. This time, it’s not about what you want. It’s about what you owe.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and followed him inside, each step heavier than the last.

The sterile air of Seoul General Hospital wrapped around you the moment you walked in behind Taehyung. The sound of distant beeping machines and hurried footsteps echoed through the wide corridors.

As Taehyung approached the reception desk, a nurse—probably in her early thirties—looked up. Her eyes widened with relief.

Nurse (hurriedly stepping out from behind the desk): “Mr. Kim! Thank God you’re here!”

Taehyung blinked, surprised.

“I wasn’t scheduled today. What happened?”

She rushed forward, placing a file in his hand, her tone desperate but controlled.

Nurse: “Room 208. Choi Sieun, age 15. He’s battling an advanced-stage brain tumor. His condition suddenly worsened. Most of the doctors are absent due to the conference and your professors are tied up in the operation theatre. We really need someone to check him immediately.”

Taehyung’s expression changed instantly—from the stern older brother to the focused medical student who knew the weight of lives depended on seconds.

Taehyung (nodding): “Alright. I’ll go check on him.”

He turned to you briefly, his gaze softening only slightly. You shifted on your feet, the tension from earlier still hanging in the air.

Taehyung (calm but direct): “She’s here to meet a patient named Shin Heeseung. Please take her to him.”

Nurse (nodding): “Yes, of course. Room 305, Orthopedic Ward.”

Taehyung glanced at you, eyes sharp.

Taehyung: “Be honest. Don’t run your mouth. And no drama.”

You nodded quickly, lips sealed.

Yn (softly): “Yes, oppa…”

With that, he gave the file one final scan and disappeared down the corridor, already slipping into doctor mode.

The nurse gestured for you to follow her.

Nurse (offering a kind smile): “This way, miss.”

You trailed behind her silently, heart thumping wildly. Each step felt heavier than the last. You weren’t just walking to meet someone—you were walking toward the consequences of your own actions.

Nurse (gently): “Are you a friend of Heeseung?”

You didn’t know what to say. Friend? Not even close. You swallowed hard.

Yn (quietly): “Not exactly. I... hurt him.”

The nurse glanced back at you, her expression unreadable, but she didn’t comment. Just nodded softly.

As you approached the orthopedic ward, a faint smell of disinfectant filled your nose, and muffled laughter from the television in a nearby room echoed faintly. A nurse wheeled a young boy past you—his left leg bandaged and elevated. The sight made your chest tighten.

You arrived outside Room 305. The nurse pointed to the door.

Nurse: “He’s inside. Take your time.”

You nodded slowly, staring at the door handle for a few seconds.

Your fingers tremble slightly as they wrap around the cold metal of the door handle. But no matter how many times you tell yourself to open it, your body doesn’t listen. The weight of guilt—heavy and relentless—presses down on your chest like a boulder. How do you face someone you hurt? How do you explain that it was just a joke when someone ended up in a hospital bed?

Eventually, you let go of the handle and slumped into the chair placed right beside the door. The hallway is quiet except for the occasional shuffle of a nurse’s shoes or the beep of a monitor from a nearby room. You pull your knees to your chest, arms wrapped around them tightly as you stare at the floor.

Minutes feel like hours. Twenty go by in silence.

Then, footsteps.

You look up to see Taehyung approaching, his white coat still half-buttoned, stethoscope hanging around his neck. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you.

Taehyung: “You met him?”

You pause, blinking rapidly.

“Y-Yeah. I did. We talked and… now he’s resting.”

Taehyung studies your face, his expression unreadable. You try to look casual—nonchalant, even—but the nervous twitch of your leg and the way you bit your lower lip betrayed everything.

He sighs deeply.

“Good. Then let me see him.”

Yn (eyes widening in panic): “No, no! He just fell asleep! Like… deep sleep, you know? Let’s not wake him. Oppa, let’s just go—really—he’s tired.”

You shoot up from the chair, already trying to slip away down the hallway like a mouse escaping a trap.

But Taehyung, faster and sharper, grabs the back of your jacket.

Taehyung (firmly): “You’re lying.”

Yn (squirming): “I-I’m not! I swear!”

He doesn’t even answer. With a calm face and an iron grip, he turns the knob and drags you into the room before you can protest further.

The hospital room is softly lit by a warm glow coming through the curtains. There, on the bed, lies a boy around your age. Pale, quiet, his left leg slightly elevated in a cast. His eyes are closed, headphones slipped over his ears, the small television in the corner playing a muted cartoon.

The sight of Shin Heeseung makes your stomach turn. You stop resisting, frozen in place.

Taehyung lets go of your jacket, then walks closer to Heeseung’s bedside.

Taehyung (gently): “He looks okay. But I still want to talk to him.”

You don’t respond. You just lower your gaze to the floor, guilt flooding your chest again as you stand there, facing the damage you caused—no longer able to run from it.

Heeseung’s eyes lift slowly when the door creaks open. A brief frown forms on his face—half confusion, half effort to recall—before he recognizes Taehyung. He straightens up with some difficulty and bows while seated.

“I’m sorry,” Heeseung says politely, “I didn’t know you were coming. My doctor just left after checking on me.”

Taehyung immediately rushes forward to help him sit more comfortably. “It’s okay. I’m Dr. Kim Taehyung,” he says gently. “And I’m here… as a brother.”

He turns toward the door and calls out, “Yn!”

You shuffle in like a guilty kitten, waving awkwardly as you step inside. “Hi,” you mumble. “How are you do—I mean…” you pause, your mouth dry, then blurt out, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have stuck my leg out. I was just…”

You fiddle with the sleeve of your hoodie, avoiding both of their eyes.

“I was curious why you never attended PE or talked to anyone. I didn’t like how quiet you were. You were like a faded wall… and I thought maybe if I messed with you a little, you’d show some color,” you say, your voice getting smaller. “But… you ended up in the hospital. I didn’t mean for that. I didn’t mean for you to lose your leg—”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, jaw tightening like he’s ready to throw you out the window. You clamp your mouth shut, realizing you just said the worst thing at the worst time.

You look at Heeseung, horrified.

He looks calm.

Taehyung steps forward quickly, his voice firm but respectful. “I’m really sorry for what she did, Heeseung. I know a simple apology isn’t enough, but please… know that I truly regret it happened. She’s reckless, and she’ll face the consequences.”

Heeseung smiles faintly. “It’s okay. Really. I’m okay.”

Taehyung frowns. “But Mr. Park—your homeroom teacher—said the doctors aren’t sure if you’ll walk again?”

Heeseung nods. “Yeah, at first that’s what they told me, especially right after Mr. Park brought me here. But things are getting better. My chemo’s working. I’m responding to treatment well. I just need more rest.”

He shifts in bed slightly and gives a hopeful smile. “The fall weakened my body a lot, but the good part is… because of that incident, the doctors found the core location of the cancer. It’s treatable now. That fall, in a weird way, may have saved me.”

You stare at him in disbelief. “Yah! Do you know how much I suffered?” you blurt, pointing at yourself dramatically. “I almost peed in my pants because of my scary brother glaring at me like a hitman!”

Heeseung blinks, confused. “Your brother’s a doctor.”

You nod furiously. “Exactly! A doctor who might bury me alive and label it a ‘medical experiment’!”

Taehyung groans and grabs your shoulder. “Yn. That doesn’t undo what you did.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Meet me alone, Heeseung. I’ll tell you how evil he is behind the lab coat.”

Before you can continue spouting nonsense, Taehyung smacks the back of your head lightly.

“Ow!”

“Enough embarrassment for one day,” he mutters, dragging you out by your hood like a disobedient puppy. Just before leaving, he turns to Heeseung and gently pats his head.

“Take care, Heeseung. You’re a strong kid. I’ll check on you again.”

And with that, the door closes behind the chaotic sibling duo.

You jog toward the car, still panting from the awkward tension back in the hospital. You reach out and tug at the passenger door handle—locked.

Yn: “Huh?” you try again, then look through the window at Taehyung, who’s already buckled in and calm as ever.

Yn: “Oppa,” you knock on the glass with a confused face. “Open the door.”

Taehyung glances at you with a cold expression that makes your stomach drop.

Taehyung: “No,” he says flatly.

You blink. “Huh?”

Taehyung: “You’re walking home,” he says without a shred of mercy in his voice.

Your jaw drops. “What?! Why?!”

He shifts the gear into drive, eyes forward.

Taehyung: “After what you did, you think you’re just going to sit here in the AC and scroll your phone while I drive you like some private chauffeur?”

You scoff, desperate.

Yn: “Oppa! Heesung is okay! He even said he’s doing fine, and—and—” you stammer as his glare slowly turns to stone, “I-I mean… technically, I saved his life?”

You throw up your hands. “Accidentally! But still! That counts for something, right?”

Taehyung raises an unimpressed brow.

Taehyung: “It’s only a 15-minute walk. I do it all the time. Try it. Good for your lungs and your bratty attitude.”

You smack your palm against the window.

Yn: “Oppa! It’s hot! And I’m in school shoes! They’re literally made of cardboard!”

He shrugs like it’s none of his business.

Taehyung: “Then think of it as walking meditation. Helps you reflect on your actions.”

You glare at him with full betrayal.

Yn: “Reflect? I’ll reflect on pushing you into a lake next time you’re near water.”

He puts the car into motion slowly.

Taehyung: “First phase of punishment. See you at home.”

You nearly scream, chasing a few steps behind as the car pulls away.

Yn: “First phase?! What do you mean first phase?! There are more?!”

Taehyung waves out the window casually as he turns the corner.

You stomp your foot like a child.

Yn: “Yah! Kim Taehyung! You traitor! You backstabber! You white-coated menace!”

You mutter as you begin your journey on foot, dragging your feet like a defeated anime character.

Yn: “Stupid doctor… with his stupid handsome face and stupid long legs… He probably doesn’t even get blisters…”

You kick a pebble and groan dramatically.

Yn: “Watch me get kidnapped and show up on the news. Then he’ll feel bad! I hope his favorite snacks expire before he opens them!”

With every exaggerated curse and huff, you march on, muttering, “Kim Taehyung, you better sleep with one eye open tonight!”

The End~