#pasin

Chapter 1: Road Back Home

Jeong Jin Man x Reader!

Hazy. Your vision was hazy with adrenaline and anger as your hand reaches out to the handle of the refrigerator, and you grip it tightly, preparing for the worst.

Slowly, you push the door open, wincing at the squeak of metal on metal. The harsh light washes over you, making your eyes water, but you force yourself to look inside.

A telltale odor overrode everything—it was sharp, clinical even—the sorrowful symphony of death and formaldehyde that filled your nostrils. Of course, it did not take long for you to get used to it.

It's not unlike any other mortuary fridge—shelves lined with bodies wrapped in white cloths or paper sheets, each one tagged with a label displaying their name and cause of death. But two in particular catch your eye: the one where Jeong Jin-Suk, Ji-An’s father, lays now and the one where Jeong Ji-An clings to her mother's lifeless form like a koala bear holding onto a tree branch. She's huddled close, her body shaking violently as she tries to keep warm while sobbing silently into her mother's chest, pulling her close as if trying to keep her warm or wake her up.

It was blatantly obvious that she was faking sleep. Her tiny trembling form snuggled against her mother's unmoving body; her eyes clenched shut whilst suppressed sobs caused shudders in her small frame.

Still, there was no mistaking whose blood she had — Jin-Man’s for sure. Those sharp instincts that devised clever escapes from cruel men intent on ending her lineage mirrored his. She was his niece, through and through.

You couldn't help but see yourself mirrored in her. It was as if you were looking back in time to just a few hours ago, back at her house. The sticky warmth of Honda's blood was still palpable on your hands, so real that you could almost smell the metallic scent.

The crushing weight of his lifeless body in your arms was a sensation that haunted you—the way his eyes, once filled with life, had stared blankly at the ceiling, void of any hint of the spirit that had once resided there.

If someone were to ask you right now, you would tell them that you wanted to die with him, that you yearned to join him in whatever came after this life. You would say that you wanted to lay down next to his covered grave, your fingers tracing the rough texture of the soil and the silky petals of red roses as you took your final breaths to rejoin him in death. If they asked why you didn't, why you chose to live instead, you would have no answer.

His death is the one you do not know how to talk about or grieve without almost dying from the agony of it. His death was the most life-altering thing that you have ever had to survive and you almost drowned in the tides of it. You did not know how to swim in those kinds of waters.

You never thought you would need to learn how.

Jesus, stop with it, Y/N. Enough. He is gone. Get over it. Let him rest in peace. Ji-An needs you now more than ever.

Carefully, as if handling a delicate artifact, you hid your gun and your knife behind your back, out of sight. Next, you reached out slowly and gently uncurled her fingers from her mother's limp ones before lifting her up slightly so she could lean against you as you stepped away from the cold metal box containing the dead body of a woman who should never have been there in the first place.

Tightening her grip around your neck, she presses her face into your chest, her hot tears seeping through your shirt. Your fingertips, where they lay comfortingly on her back, feel her heartbeat hammering rapidly beneath them.

Ji-An was afraid of you—that much you knew; you felt it in the way she kept herself tense against you, crying but not making much noise—like being quiet would make you more tolerable or maybe even forgettable. It seems that neither her uncle nor Honda prepared her for the idea of you showing up there while he was away taking care of his "business."

"Calm down, Ji... It's okay. Noona won't hurt you, okay? I'll take you back to your uncle. I'm his friend." You murmured against her hair. You felt a pang of guilt for staining the bottom of her hospital gown with your blood and for the sight of death she had to witness in the mortuary.

Leaving the cold, sterile room, your senses were on high alert; every little sound felt amplified—the hiss of your breath as you exhaled, the drip-drip-drip of blood from your wounds, and the muffled thud of Jeong Ji-An's heart against your chest.

As you turned a corner, you noticed the two killers lying lifeless on the ground, their eyes glazed over in terror, one with a bullet in his head and the other in his heart. They'd never expected someone like you to show up here tonight. A smirk tugged at your lips as you brushed past them without a second thought. This was personal for you, after all; payback for what they had done to Jeong Jin-Man and his family. To yours, as well.

You continued towards the exit, careful not to step on any broken glass or discarded weapons lying around from earlier skirmishes, guiding Jeong Ji-An through these darkened halls.

An eye for an eye. A leg for a leg. A life for a life. A soul for a soul.

Swiftly and silently, you wove your way through the hospital's maze-like corridors. Your steps, nearly soundless on the cold, clinical tiles, echoed the stealth of a ghost as you blended perfectly into the low-lit ambiance.

Snuggled against your untouched side was Ji-An; her heartbeat quickened and was palpable like a terrified bunny caught in headlights. Her only sounds are swallowed whimpers leaking onto your blood-smeared shirt and inconsistent breaths overpowered by the persistent drone of the hospital’s fans, a nurse rushing past with a tray of instruments and an orderly mopping up blood and fluids on the floor, leaving streaks of cleaner fumes.

From down that hall sprang a nurse, impeccable in her sleek white uniform. A neat dark knot atop her head completed her picture; a clipboard filled with lives quite literally sketched out on charts and doctor notes was clutched in one hand.

Drawing near, she became a threat to remain unseen—every sinew screamed at you to recede or flee, but neither was an option with Ji-An safest in your arms. Your once-perfect cover as another doctor now betrays you, with vivid emblems of dried-up crimson coated across it.

While she strode ahead, forgoing caution, you obstructed her path, making your presence radiant against your shadowy backdrop. Her eyes shot wide open upon seeing you before they squinted dubiously at multiple points connecting pieces to make her conclusion.

Instinctively reaching down for an intercom button dutifully stationed at her hip proved futile—it didn’t match your speed.

"Wait!" you whispered urgently, holding up your hand to stop her from pressing the button.

Before she could react, you had her pinned against the wall, her startled gasp echoing down the empty hallway. Your hand shot out, pressing the tiny scanner attached to your wrist against hers.

For a tense moment, both of you were frozen, the only sound in the quiet hallway being the soft beep of the scanner as it processed the information.

When you pulled back, her eyes widened even further. The small screen on your wrist lit up with the identification of a chip. She was an agent.

You thanked all the gods for making you so good at making programs.

"Who...who are you?" she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between you and the door.

"I'm here to protect her," you replied quietly, nodding towards Ji-An. "And you're going to help me."

For a second, she just stared at you, her eyes wide and frightened. Then, slowly, she lowered her gaze to her own wrist, where your code was displayed in bright neon green. It was the highest clearance level—only Jin-Man possessed it. Or so everyone thought.

"Impossible," she murmured, her eyes darting back to yours.

"Believe it," you replied, a smirk tugging at your lips.

She looked back up at you, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded, her hand slowly moving away from the intercom button. "Okay," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "Follow me."

In silence, she led you and Ji-An through the hospital's maze of corridors, bypassing the bustling ER and the curious looks of other staff members.

Walking behind her muted your adrenaline-fueled heartbeat while every waking sense within sharpened, cutting-edge-like attentiveness to every change—a sudden whisper of air against cotton scrubs or distant clatter—anything that dared disrupt these meticulously planned sequences.

Nearing the hospital exit, a sturdy security guard caught your attention. He was sitting behind a polished oak desk, engrossed in a glossy magazine.

The fluorescent light from the ceiling above glinted off his gold-plated name tag, revealing his name: 'Officer Kim'. He heard your footsteps and looked up, his eyebrows arching inquisitively at the sight of the frightened girl in your arms.

Now an ally, the nurse stepped forward assertively. "Dr. Jun Hadou requires assistance moving this patient," she articulated crisply. She gestured towards Ji-An in your arms. "She's been through a lot tonight and it's crucial she gets home to rest."

She then leaned in towards the officer, as if sharing a confidential piece of information. "There was utter pandemonium earlier because of an emergency surgery that took way longer than expected. We're all hands on deck, even Dr. Jun here."

Officer Kim gave a nod of understanding, his eyes softening as they landed on Ji-An. "Poor kid," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. He gave the two of you a once-over before shrugging and returning to his magazine, a dog-eared issue of 'Security Weekly'.

With a silent exhale of relief, you moved closer to the distantly parked car, feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Sincerity brimmed in your newly-turned-ally’s gaze when she asked, "Is she going to be okay?"

You nodded, tightening your hold on Ji-An. "She's a fighter. She'll make it through."

The cool night air hit your face like a slap as soon as you stepped outside, cleansing it from any remaining hospital smells and noises—replaced by freshness and darkness instead. The parking lot was dimly lit, casting eerie shadows across your path as you made your way towards the car—an old but sturdy sedan that once belonged to Honda—and the crunch of gravel beneath your feet echoed in the silence, punctuated only by the rustling of paper in the wind.

You moved quickly, ensuring to avoid any onlookers or cameras that could incriminate you both.

The car door opened with a soft click, and you settled her into the backseat before climbing in after her.

Glancing at Jeong Ji-An huddled in the back seat through the rear-view mirror, you noticed the flicker of moonlight reflecting on her wet cheeks and how she clutched at her hospital gown. Her eyes, the color of dark chocolate, were tightly closed, her small face scrunched up with effort as if trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears. Her tiny frame curled up against the worn leather seats, shaking. Each breath was a struggle, forcing her small ribcage outward as it hitched.

The engine roared to life, filling the car with heat while you fished out a damp cloth from your bag and dabbed at her face gently. Cool water soon replaced some of the tears and sweat that had collected there.

"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely from behind shaking lips, her voice barely audible even to you.

"Don't mention it," you replied softly, pulling away from the hospital grounds cautiously. Having someone so precious, so vulnerable in your care was a new experience. It made every turn of the wheel and every press of the accelerator or brake seem infinitely more significant, requiring deliberate caution.

As the night enveloped the car, your eyes darted frantically around every corner and alleyway, the adrenaline from your earlier altercation still pumping through your veins, keeping you on high alert.

"We're almost home.”

“Noona?”

“Yes, Darling?”

“Did my uncle die too?”

“Die? What? Dying means joining-”

“I know what dying means, auntie. Uncle Jin-Man... is he dead too? Like omma and appa?”

"No, darling," you managed to choke out, the words feeling like shards of glass in your throat as they fought their way out. "Your Uncle Jin-Man hasn't... he hasn't joined them. Not yet."

"A-And I saw... I saw Uncle's friend. He was... he was hurt. Did he... did he go away too?"

As Ji-An spoke, the image of Honda filled your mind.

Honda, your twin brother, Jin-Man's right-hand man, always standing tall and proud, always full of life and hope.

Now, the thought of him being gone was unbearable.

Memories flooded back to you, like a torrential river that had broken its banks. You, as children, laughing and playing in the park, the sun casting long shadows as it began to set. Honda would be there, signing furiously as he tried to keep up with your games, his fingers dancing in the air like a ballet of silent words.

You remembered your eighth birthday, when you baked him a cake shaped like a train. It was amateurish and lopsided, but the look of utter delight on his face when you presented it to him was priceless. His hands moved quickly to sign, 'Thank you' over and over again.

There was a silence that always hung around him, a silence born from his inability to speak. But Honda had never let that stop him from expressing himself. He was the most expressive person you knew; his hands and face said more than words ever could. His silence was a beautiful symphony that only you understood.

Honda's smile, his laughter, his silent words—they all play in the back of your brain like the soundtrack to a horror film. The memories you don't want to keep could fill graveyards, but you do not have the energy to dig, to label every headstone, or to plant flowers at every edge.

You do not have the energy to bury brotherhood like a corpse, to label its death a suicide. You're ready to set this thing on fire, to watch as the flames consume the painful past, but you cannot bring yourself to light the match.

Grief has made a home inside of you. It had renovated the broken patchwork of your skin and the worn framework of your limbs. It had breathed life into your scars, only to make them bleed again. It now resides in the foundations of your bones, in the quiet rooms between your heartbeats. It has seeped into the floorboards of your soul, staining the wood with its dark, relentless hue. It's like a painting you can't stop looking at—a masterpiece. Grief was a cruel architect, reconstructing your heart into a house of sorrow.

Grief had moved in, settled down, and seemed like it was here to stay.

Even in death, your brother will decorate your heart.

You wanted to scream, to shout, to let out all the pent-up frustration and sorrow. But you couldn't. Not now. Not when Ji-An needed you.

Suddenly, a shadow darted across the road. Your heart pounded in your chest as you swerved the car, narrowly avoiding a large creature that looked like a hyena. Its yellow eyes glinted in the moonlight, and you caught a glimpse of a hand and something shiny and metallic in its mouth—Honda's brass knuckles. The ones you had gifted him on his 16th birthday as a joke, but he kept them, always wearing them as a symbol of protection.

The sudden swing of the steering wheel made the car skid on the gravel, spewing a cloud of dust that obscured your vision. Your heart was stuck in your throat as you fought to regain control over the vehicle, your hands gripping the wheel so tight that your knuckles turned white.

With a shaky breath, you blinked, quickly rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. When you looked again, the road was empty, save for the dancing dust particles in your headlights' glow. The hyena was gone, and there was no sign of Honda's brass knuckles. It was as if the animal and the precious memento it carried had never been there at all.

Feeling a warm wetness on your cheeks, you realized that you were crying. Hastily, you wiped at your eyes, not wanting Ji-An to see you in this vulnerable state. But it was too late.

From the backseat, Ji-An's voice trembled. "I... I saw it too," she stated, her fingers lightly brushing your arm. "The... the thing in the road, noona.”

Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, you quickly fibbed, “It was just a deer, sweetheart," hoping to calm her down.

However, she shook her head adamantly, her grip on your arm tightening. "No, it wasn't. I... I've been seeing it since... since I saw my uncle's friend on the floor."

Honda, she was talking about Honda. Your twin. Your mirror image.

"What did it look like, Ji?" You asked gently, attempting to understand the enigma she was seeing.

"It... it was large. Like a monster. With yellow eyes... and it... it had something shiny in its mouth and… and a hand. But it goes away if you don't scream or make a sound! Uncle said... he said only weak people make sounds. That it... it gets scared of your strength."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over. This brought a bitter taste to your mouth. Jin-Man’s teachings were hard and cold, just like him.

"You're not weak, Ji. You're the strongest girl I know. And believe me, I've seen many."

She didn't respond, but you could feel her gaze on you, heavy and searching.

As you drove, Ji-An finally whispered, her voice so quiet you almost missed it. "I wish we could go home to Uncle," she murmured. "I don't like being alone. I don't like the dark. Mom and Dad didn't like it either."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

The rest of the drive was silent, the only sound being the hum of the engine and the occasional soft sniffle from Ji-An.

Thoughts of Jin-Man’s cold eyes boring into you once you got home were oddly comforting. It was better than being alone. Better than being haunted by the ghosts of your past.

In your mind, you could see Jin-Man's stern face as he roughly cleaned your wounds, his hands firm but careful. You could almost feel the sting of the antiseptic and the harsh pull of the bandage being secured too tight. "You're going to die too young at this rate."

You could picture him watching you from afar as you lit a cigarette, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. "I don't like the smell of blood and nicotine on you."

And even though these weren't the most comforting images, they gave you something to hold onto something other than the haunting emptiness of being alone. It gave you a sense of familiarity, a sense of home, no matter how skewed it was.

-------

One month later

The diagnosis of  'Aphasia associated with Dissociative Amnesia' was scrawled on the paper in front of you in the pediatrician doctor's hasty handwriting. It was a medical term that felt too large and too heavy for the tiny girl it was attached to.

When you looked away from the glaring black letters, you saw Ji-An curled up in the backseat of Jin-Man's truck.

Blurred landscapes reflected themselves in her wide, doe-like eyes as she silently absorbed them through the window.

Ever since that spine-chilling hospital night, she's been caged in a quiet world, her words locked behind invisible bars. It seemed like someone had snatched away her voice and reduced her to near silence and you didn't even know which was worse—the image of her crying or her silent, vacant stare. Either way, it was a haunting reminder of the trauma she had endured.

Sighing deeply, you turned back to view what raced outside. Midnight shadows played tag with dawn's first light piercing through leaves now tinted golden brown. Trees were naught but fleeting streaks rendered blurred by speed against this backdrop. Birds chirped their morning songs from atop telephone wires and trees and somewhere in the distance, a dog barked once before going quiet again.

Just then, something patted your leg, jolting you out of your reverie. Glancing up, you saw Jin-Man's face, his brow was arched in a silent question, his dark eyes probing, trying to gauge your state of mind.

Ever since Honda's death, your words have become scarce. You only spoke when necessary, choosing instead to keep your thoughts and feelings locked away.

On top of Honda's freshly dug grave during his final rites, you willed yourself to be one with him a couple heartbeats later, a wild urge tickling at some primal instinct buried within—a desire to claw open his pine box and nestle next to him just like an animal would do. Returning home. Returning to him.

You would then pretend to be ready for deep sleep, wantonly giving yourself all control over whatever comes. Deep down, you knew those seeds needed germination, especially now that dirt has lined their lifeless forms.

But Jin-Man had been there, pulling you back. He had held you as you crumbled, physically and emotionally. He had helped you take your PTSD medication, his firm grip guiding the pill to your mouth.

Suddenly, you noticed Jin-Man hastily moving his hands, catching your peripheral vision once the car came to a stop at a red light.

His fingers formed the familiar shape of a rabbit, then he pointed towards his bag, which was resting on your lap, the leather of it creaking under the pressure of his touch.

You squinted at him, your own hands moving in a flurry of motion as you signed back, your brows furrowed in confusion and a hint of amusement. "A rabbit? Really, Jin-Man? You're telling me you snuck a rabbit into the car?"

Jin-Man rolled his eyes. His hands moved with an air of impatience as he signed, "No, not a live rabbit, you idiot. Ji-An's bunny plush toy. The one with the pink bow and the missing eye."

You huffed in exasperation, shooting a glare his way. "Well, maybe you should learn to sign better. Honestly, Honda was way better at this than you. He was clearer, more precise. You're just... sloppy.”

Jin-Man just scoffed, shaking his head at your teasing. "Maybe I would be better if you didn't always insist on being the one to teach me. You're not exactly the best teacher, you know."

“Screw you, Ahjusshi. I'm a fantastic teacher. And how the hell did you even manage to swipe the plushie from the police station? That’s just reckless.”

Jin-Man smirked, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. “I have my ways.”

“Jin-Man! That’s dangerous! You could’ve gotten caught.”

“Nothing happened. I’m still here, aren’t I? Anyway, stop fussing and give the damn toy to Ji-An, will you?”

Ignoring his words, you reached into his bag, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of the stuffed rabbit. It was a worn-out thing; its once vibrant colors faded with time and love. You could feel the patches where Ji-An had tried to mend them; stitches crooked but strong.

Pulling it out, you turned to pass it to the girl, your hand instinctively reaching out to caress her face.

You lightly tapped her adorable button nose with your finger, a small smile pulling at your lips. "You should get some sleep, sweetheart," you murmured, your voice rough from how long it took for you to speak. Actually, you just spoke aloud to her. Not even with Jin-Man.

Ji-An took the plush toy, her small hands clutching it tightly. "But I'm not tired," she protested, her wide eyes looking up at you as she signed. It was a rare occurrence for her to communicate, even through sign language, but when she did, it was always endearing.

"Yes, you are.” Jin-Man stopped signing once the car began to move again. “And if you don't sleep now, the ugly rabbit will be very sad."

Ji-An's eyes widened at that, her grip on the plush toy tightening. "I don't want the bunny to be sad.”

Smiling tenderly at her, you gently brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face. "Then it's settled. Time to sleep a little bit."

The bunny plush seemed to give her comfort, her tiny hands clutching it tightly as she snuggled deeper into the seat, her eyes fluttering shut. It was a small victory, but it was enough for now. Enough to keep moving forward.

With the soft, rhythmic hum of the car engine acting as a soothing background melody, you turned back to Jin-Man. “What about Ji-An's school? Have you had a chance to talk to them yet?”

 Jin-Man glanced at you, his dark eyes flickering towards the rear-view mirror to check on his niece, who was quietly dozing off in the back seat. "I've spoken to the principal and a few of her teachers. They're aware of Ji-An's situation. As far as they're concerned, her parents are on an extended trip overseas and she's staying with her uncle for the time being."

You raised an eyebrow, your fingers shaping the words. "And the students? What about them? It's not just the adults at the school who need to understand. How are the other kids going to react to her situation?"

Jin-Man shrugged, his broad shoulders rising and falling in a nonchalant gesture. "Kids adapt quicker than you'd think. She'll be fine." 

You huffed, signing, "Don't be so sure, Jeong. Kids can be cruel, especially to those who are different. She's mute now and that's going to make her a target. We need to prepare her for that."

He was silent for a moment, considering your words, before he muttered, "We'll deal with it if it comes to that."

Not satisfied but willing to let it slide for now, you decided to change the topic. "What about Babylon? Are they still sniffing around for us?"

Jin-Man's eyes hardened, a glint of steel flashing in them. "They're always after us. But we've managed to stay a step ahead. For now."

"What about the shop? How's Murthehelp coming along?"

His lips curled into a small smirk, a spark of excitement lighting up his otherwise stoic face. "Pasin is almost done with the base. It's looking good. You'd love it. There are many pretty weapons, just like Honda would have wanted."

At the mention of your brother, you couldn't help but smile back, signing, "About the site... I've been working on the new codes, but there are still a few bugs that need fixing. Besides that, the chips are working perfectly."

Jin-Man nodded, his hand resting on the steering wheel as he guided the car through the quiet streets. "Take your time. We want it to be perfect. We're not in a hurry. He would want us to do this right."

As the car continues along the highway, your fingers tap to an invisible rhythm against the leather seat as you watch Ji-An sleep, her cherubic face calm for once. You can't help but wonder what she dreams about—is she frolicking with fluffy bunnies in a sun-dappled meadow or staring down the monster with the shiny hand in a dark, foreboding alley? 

You swallow hard against a lump in your throat. Honda was always so protective of kids, always making sure they were safe. Now that he's gone, you feel his absence like a physical weight on your shoulders. Jin-Man too. He glances at you occasionally in the rearview mirror, his eyes full of concern for both of you. He takes long, slow breaths that betray his worry for your silence and Ji-An's muteness. You know he feels responsible for their wellbeing, as if he failed in some way.

Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that breakfast is still waiting at home. Butterflies dance in your belly at that thought. Jin-Man has taken over most cooking duties since you moved in. His meals filled with home-cooked rice and kimchi stew comfort you in a way nothing else does anymore.

As if sensing your hunger through your silent communication system, he reaches over and hands over a pack of chips from his smaller bag. It tastes salty and old under your tongue as your jaw works furiously to break down each piece into smaller ones.

Grinning, you decided to push your luck. You reached over, taking one of the chips from the packet and holding it up towards the man. "Open up, old man. Let's share this gourmet meal.”

His brows furrowed in mock annoyance, he retorted, “I’m not hungry, old lady, and that's hardly a gourmet meal. It’s just a cheap bag of gas station chips.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Jin-Man. I know you well enough to see through your bluff. Besides, in this car, in this moment, they taste better than any expensive restaurant food.”

He shot you an exasperated look, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a reluctant smile. He opened his mouth nonetheless, allowing you to pop the chip in.

Jeong chewed slowly, savoring the taste despite his earlier protest. His cheeks puffed out with each mouthful, transforming his stern features into a comically adorable sight. You couldn't help but chuckle—a soft, breathy sound that filled the car with a warmth that had been missing for a long time.

"You always manage to make these trips bearable, don't you?" Jin-Man mumbled around his mouthful of chips, his voice softening.

"Well, someone has to keep the spirits up," you quipped, reaching for another chip. "Besides, it's not every day we get to enjoy such a luxurious feast."

As Jin-Man drove, the cityscape gradually changed, giving way to the undulating greenery of the countryside. You watched as the concrete jungle was replaced by rolling hills, farms dotted with cows and sheep, and tractors moving steadily in the distance. Men and women, dressed in well-worn overalls and sturdy boots, worked diligently under the sun, their faces obscured by wide-brimmed hats.

Your eyes were drawn to a cluster of trucks parked near a barn, their bright colors standing out against the muted palette of the farm. A few workers were loading bales of hay onto one of the trucks, their muscles straining under the weight.

The car finally slowed down as you approached a quaint farmhouse nestled amidst the fields. Jin-Man parked the car carefully, the crunch of gravel under the tires breaking the serene silence.

The house was old but well-maintained, its white paint gleaming in the sunlight. A row of rose bushes lined the front porch, their vibrant blooms adding a splash of color to the scene.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jin-Man's hand move towards the ignition, turning the key and silencing the car's constant hum. The sudden silence was almost deafening; the absence of noise made your ears ring.

As you swiveled around in your seat, prepared to gently wake Ji-An, you found she was already stirring. 

Sleepily, she unfastened her seatbelt, her small hands fumbling with the clasp. She began gathering her things, clutching her bunny plush toy close to her chest. Jin-Man, in his own quiet way, was also preparing to exit the car, gathering his belongings with an air of quiet introspection.

"Do you need help with your belongings, Ji?" you asked, reaching out to help her. Your hand hovered over her tiny form, ready to provide assistance. 

But she shook her head, her small lips forming a stubborn line. Her tiny hands clenched tighter around her belongings, the bunny plush toy almost disappearing in her fierce grip. 

Ji-An was stubborn, always wanting to do things on her own. It was one of the things you admired about her—her fierce independence shining in even the simplest of actions.

As the three of you approached the front door, Ji-An trailed somewhat behind, and Jin-Man fumbled with his keys. His usually nimble fingers were uncharacteristically clumsy, the keys jingling loudly in the quiet morning.

He walked ahead, his heavy boots crunching against the gravel path. Every step echoed in the silence, a steady rhythm in the calm of the morning. Ji-An tried her best to match his pace, her tiny feet stumbling against the uneven surface, but she maintained her determined expression.

Without warning, she lost her balance and fell to the ground, a small gasp escaping her lips that sounded loud in the quiet.

You immediately moved to kneel and help her, your maternal instincts kicking in. But Jin-Man turned around and shook his head at you, his eyes meeting yours in a silent conversation. 

He wanted to handle this.

Jeong then crouched down in front of Ji-An with his stern gaze as he met her wide-eyed stare. "Listen, Jeong Ji-An. I'm not your father. I will never be. That means I will never do the things he did to you."

Ji-An could only look at him, her doe-like eyes filled with an emotion you couldn't decipher. Fear? Confusion? Maybe a bit of both. 

Without another word, Jin-Man stood up and walked into the house, leaving both of you outside. His retreating figure, tall and stern, disappeared into the dimly lit hallway, leaving behind an awkward silence that hung heavily in the air.

This motherfucker! She is just a fucking child! Come on!

Cursing him under your breath, you knelt down in front of Ji-An, the gravel crunching underneath your weight. Your hand moved gently, brushing the dirt off her mini jeans jumper that matched yours—a pair of overalls that were adorned with tiny stars and moons. "Don't mind him, sweetheart. He might be grumpy, but he'll come around someday."

Seeing her still looking a bit upset, her brows furrowed and her bottom lip trembling slightly, you decided to use one of her favorite metaphors to explain Jin-Man's behavior. "You know those wildlife documentaries you like so much, Ji-An? Think of your uncle as one of those grumpy old bears. He might growl and seem scary, but deep down, he's just trying to protect his turf. And just like those bears, he can also be quite silly sometimes, especially when he forgets where he left his honey...or in Jin-Man's case, his keys."

She only looked at you. Her eyes linger on the red bandana on your long hair, the way it fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, then your sneakers, scuffed and worn, then finally your eyes. Eyes that held a world of promises and shared her pain.

Feeling her gaze on you, you gave her a comforting smile, your hand reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "It might not be the same, but you can always count on me, okay? I might not be your mom, but I can be someone you can lean on. Like an older sister, a noona or an unnie. We can face any challenge together, okay?"

As you spoke, you felt her lean towards you, her small body seeking comfort and warmth. Your heart clenched at the sight, at the trusting innocence in her eyes.

"Would you like to hug, Ji-An?" you asked gently, your arms opening in invitation.

Her eyes widened a bit, surprise evident in her face, before she gave a tiny nod.

Swiftly, you wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close to you. Her body felt so small and fragile against yours, her heartbeat a soft rhythm against your chest.

Now, under the gentle light of the 8 a.m. sun, you understand why wolves guard their pups fiercely, why birds return to their nests year after year, why a bear would face any danger for her cubs. You understand why a beaver tirelessly repairs its dam, why elephants return to their birthplace to give birth, why a penguin would journey miles to feed its young. You comprehend why a tree nurtures its saplings, why the river always flows to the sea, why the sun rises every day. You get it now. The offspring were their purpose.

And now Ji-An might become yours.

"Did I pass out? Jian is up. You must've been tired. Don't study so hard. Did I pass out? Yes. How could you make your niece pass out? What? She's right. I didn't do it. He did."

🤔