The clock ticked past midnight, and Youn-Jae lay curled up on the thin mattress, savoring the rare silence that filled the small, cramped room. His mother had said she’d be home late, but he knew better. She was often gone for long stretches, and with his father missing too, it meant no shouting or slamming doors tonight. No drunken fights. Just quiet.

But that fragile peace shattered with the soft creak of the front door opening. Youn-Jae’s heart raced as his eyes fluttered open. He lay frozen, his body tense, hoping, praying it wasn’t his father. The silence that followed was strange—no heavy footsteps, no angry muttering. Instead, there were careful, almost timid movements, so unlike his father’s usual entrance.

His chest tightened with dread as he slowly sat up, the thin blanket slipping off his shoulders. The air felt heavy, suffocating. He hesitated before pushing open his door, peeking into the dimly lit hallway. What he saw made him pause: his mother standing by the entrance, holding the hand of a small child.

“Oh, Youn,” she whispered, startled, her tired face breaking into a fragile smile. “Did I wake you?”

Youn-Jae rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the lingering haze of sleep. “No, Mother,” he replied softly, his gaze shifting to the child standing beside her. Confusion tugged at his voice. “But… who is this?”

His mother knelt down, her face drawn with exhaustion, but her eyes—those tired eyes—held a flicker of something deeper. She placed a gentle hand on the child’s shoulder, the touch filled with unspoken sadness. “This is Ji-Won,” she said, her voice cracking under the weight of each word. “He’ll be living with us now. He’s my friend’s child... there’s no one left to take care of him.”

The room felt colder suddenly, the gravity of her words sinking in. Youn-Jae’s heart ached for reasons he couldn’t fully understand. He stared at the small figure, barely able to make out the boy’s face in the dim light. All he could see were his small shoulders, hunched as if the world had already placed too much on them.

Youn-Jae swallowed hard, his young mind grasping the responsibility thrust upon him. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently took Ji-Won’s trembling hand, the warmth of the child’s skin a stark contrast to the coldness around them. “Hello, Ji-Won,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mixture of warmth and determination. “I’ll be your Hyung from now on.”

Ji-Won remained silent, his wide, tear-filled eyes fixed on the floor. His tiny hand clutched Youn-Jae’s with a kind of desperation, as though he was holding onto the last shred of safety left in his world. He didn’t speak, couldn’t speak. The grief had swallowed his voice.

Youn-Jae felt the boy’s fingers tighten in his grasp, and his chest tightened in response. He gave a soft, reassuring squeeze, his heart aching for this child who had already lost so much. He had never been a Hyung before, but in that moment, he made a silent vow to protect Ji-Won, no matter what.

“Alright, let’s call it a night,” Myung-Hwa said, her voice wavering as she forced a smile, though her eyes betrayed her. “Youn, please take Ji-Won to your room. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Youn-Jae nodded, his young face set with resolve. “Yes, Mother,” he whispered, glancing back at her with a look that seemed far too mature for his age. He guided Ji-Won by the hand, leading him gently towards the room, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls as they walked.

As he turned the corner, Youn-Jae glanced back one more time, just in time to see his mother’s shoulders slump, her body folding under the weight of her decision. She stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway, her eyes distant as if already anticipating the storm to come.

Myung-Hwa’s heart felt like it was being torn apart. She watched her son, guilt gnawing at her insides. She knew what this meant. Taking in Ji-Won was not just an act of kindness; it was a choice that would strain their already fragile lives to the breaking point. And Kwang-Seok... how would he react? Her husband’s temper was volatile, unpredictable. The mere thought of him seeing Ji-Won filled her with dread.

She sank into a chair, her hands trembling as she covered her face. The darkness of the room pressed in, and for a moment, she allowed herself to cry—silent, hidden tears that no one would ever see. The weight of it all was suffocating: the guilt, the fear, the uncertainty. What if she couldn’t protect them? What if bringing Ji-Won into this fractured family only made everything worse?

With a deep sigh, Myung-Hwa wiped her face and straightened up, forcing herself to push the fears aside. There was no time for weakness. Tomorrow, she would face Kwang-Seok. Tomorrow, she would do what they always did—survive.

***

Myung-Hwa, weary from the heavy burden of her choices, had intended only to close her eyes for a brief moment, but exhaustion claimed her entirely. The deep quiet of sleep wrapped around her, offering a brief escape from her worries. That was, until the sudden clattering of utensils and soft shuffling sounds snapped her awake. Her heart leapt into her throat, panic surging through her body as she bolted upright.

Kwang-Seok—had he found Ji-Won? The thought that her husband might already saw Ji-Won and in a rage sent cold fear coursing through her veins. Her eyes darted around the room, half expecting to hear his violent temper erupt any second. But what she saw instead left her frozen, then exhaling a long breath of relief.

At the small kitchen table, Youn-Jae and Ji-Won sat quietly, sharing breakfast together. Youn-Jae, already dressed in his neat school uniform, looked every bit the responsible older brother as he calmly ate, his posture relaxed but attentive. Ji-Won, smaller and still wrapped in a shy, cautious silence, glanced nervously at his plate but mirrored Youn-Jae’s every move.

For a moment, Myung-Hwa stood watching them, a bittersweet warmth spreading through her chest. The sight was almost too peaceful to be real. Rubbing her tired eyes, she slowly pushed herself up from the chair, her body stiff from the uncomfortable sleep.

“I clearly fell into a deep sleep…” she murmured, her voice laced with embarrassment and the remnants of tension still clutching at her heart. She stepped forward, trying to shake off the grogginess as she made her way to the table, a small, apologetic smile tugging at her lips.

Youn-Jae looked up, his gaze softening when he saw her. “Mother, you should’ve slept in your bed,” he said gently, the concern in his tone unmistakable as he watched her rub her tired temples.

“I’m fine.” Her voice was light, but the strain behind it was palpable. She turned her focus to the task ahead, not wanting to linger on her fatigue or the fear that had woken her. “Youn, once you finish your breakfast, could you help Ji-Won get ready?”

She glanced briefly at Ji-Won, the boy sitting so quietly, his hands gripping the edge of his chair as if he wasn’t sure if he belonged there. She knelt slightly to catch his eye, her voice softening. “I’ll be taking you to school too, Ji-Won. We need to get you settled, okay?”

Ji-Won gave a small, hesitant nod, still too timid to speak. His wide, uncertain eyes flicked from Myung-Hwa to Youn-Jae, seeking some form of comfort in their presence. Youn-Jae, noticing the boy’s unease, smiled reassuringly and leaned forward slightly, speaking in a warm, brotherly tone. “Don’t worry, Ji-Won. We’ll be ready in no time, and I’ll show you around school.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Myung-Hwa felt a soft wave of gratitude toward her son, the weight of their situation feeling just a little lighter in that moment. “Thank you, Youn,” she said quietly. “I just need to get ready myself.” She made to turn toward the bedroom, but Youn-Jae’s voice stopped her.

“Aren’t you going to eat something first, Mother?” His tone was calm but laced with concern, his eyes searching hers for any sign of weakness.

Myung-Hwa’s stomach churned with anxiety, not hunger, but she forced a small smile, waving his question away. “No, I’ll eat later. I need to hurry, or we’ll be late.” Her hands fluttered nervously, smoothing her already-wrinkled shirt as if that could steady her racing thoughts. “Just… make sure Ji-Won is ready.”

Youn-Jae nodded, sensing the underlying tension in her voice, though he didn’t press further. “Of course, Mother. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” he replied with a firm yet gentle resolve, his eyes flicking toward Ji-Won to give him another reassuring glance.

As Myung-Hwa hurried away, her mind raced with all the uncertainties that lay ahead. How long could they keep up this fragile routine? How much time did she have before Kwang-Seok’s looming presence shattered this small bubble of peace? Pausing for a moment, she glanced back over her shoulder, watching as Youn-Jae leaned closer to Ji-Won, quietly explaining something that made the younger boy relax, if only slightly.

Her heart ached at the sight—Youn-Jae, already shouldering responsibilities far beyond his years, and Ji-Won, so lost and broken. She swallowed hard and turned away, hurrying to prepare for the day, all the while praying that Kwang-Seok would stay away, just a little longer. Maybe today, they could hold onto some sense of normalcy, even if it was fleeting.

***

Youn-Jae’s eyes swept across the bustling school courtyard, searching for Ji-Won among the throngs of students. His heart quickened when he finally spotted Ji-Won sitting alone on a weathered wooden bench, intently doodling on a piece of paper. Intrigued, Youn-Jae approached quietly, his footsteps light as he came to a stop behind the boy. He watched the focused expression on Ji-Won’s face, captivated by the intensity with which he sketched.

“Hmm, so you’re good at drawing,” Youn-Jae remarked, his voice filled with genuine surprise and admiration.

Ji-Won’s face flushed crimson, and he instinctively tried to hide the paper and pen, his small hands trembling ever so slightly. His shyness enveloped him like a cloak, and he avoided Youn-Jae’s gaze, fidgeting nervously with the hem of his shirt.

With a warm, friendly smile, Youn-Jae extended his hand toward Ji-Won. “Let me see that,” he said, his tone inviting and encouraging.

Ji-Won hesitated, caught between his desire to share and the fear of judgment. His eyes darted away, shadows of uncertainty clouding his features.

“Come on, don’t be shy around your Hyung,” Youn-Jae coaxed gently, crouching down to Ji-Won’s level to establish a connection. “I won’t bite, I promise.”

After a moment of hesitation, Ji-Won reluctantly handed over his drawing, his cheeks still flushed. He kept his head bowed, his heart racing with both fear and hope.

Youn-Jae’s eyes widened in awe as he examined the drawing. “Whoooa! This is really nice, Ji-Won. You have golden hands!” He leaned in closer, excitement bubbling in his voice. “Wait, is this you and me at the beach?” He looked up, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Do you like going to the beach?”

Ji-Won nodded silently, his eyes peeking up at Youn-Jae from beneath his lashes. The corners of his mouth began to lift, revealing a timid but growing smile.

Touched by the drawing, Youn-Jae gently patted Ji-Won’s head, feeling a surge of affection and protectiveness. He sensed the significance behind the sketch, a glimpse into Ji-Won’s world that made his heart swell.

“Are you happy to have someone now? I know you must still be sad about your mother,” Youn-Jae asked softly, his voice dripping with empathy.

In a spontaneous burst of affection, Ji-Won wrapped his small arms around Youn-Jae in a warm hug, surprising him. Youn-Jae’s eyes widened in pure astonishment, his heart swelling at the boy’s unguarded warmth. He gently pushed Ji-Won back to look into his eyes, his heart touched by the boy’s sincerity.

“I promise you, you’ll never be alone from now on,” Youn-Jae vowed, his voice firm yet tender, the sincerity evident in his gaze. “Let’s grow up together happily with Mother.”

Finally, Ji-Won’s face broke into a warm smile, his angelic features illuminated by the sincerity in his brown eyes. The moment felt charged with a profound sense of connection and hope, wrapping around them like a protective shield.

“Oh, our lunch! I almost forgot,” Youn-Jae exclaimed, his eyes widening as he glanced at the lunchbox on the nearby table.

With a swift motion, he reached for the lunchbox, carefully placing it on the table. He opened it to reveal the neatly packed food he had prepared, then sat down beside Ji-Won, sharing the meal in a comfortable silence.

After they finished eating, Youn-Jae stood up, his face brightening with enthusiasm. “I’ll walk you to your classroom,” he said, his voice brimming with energy and warmth.

He escorted Ji-Won to his classroom, their steps light and cheerful, laughter echoing softly between them. Once they arrived, Youn-Jae gave Ji-Won a reassuring pat on the head, his smile unwavering. “Have a great day, Ji-Won. I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice infused with genuine care.

Ji-Won gave a shy but grateful nod, his brown eyes following Youn-Jae as he turned to head back to his own classroom. Youn-Jae’s smile didn’t fade; he ran back with a spring in his step, a sense of joy radiating from him.

***

A loud slam reverberated through the house, making Myung-Hwa jump as she stood in the kitchen, preparing food for the two boys. The forceful way the door swung open told her everything she needed to know—it was Kwang-Seok, back from his reckless escapades of gambling and drinking. She winced as the heavy scent of alcohol invaded the air, mixing uncomfortably with the aroma of the food simmering on the stove.

Kwang-Seok staggered in, his steps unsteady as he threw himself onto the sofa with a heavy thud. “Myung-Hwa!” he bellowed, his voice slurred, irritation spilling from his lips. “Hey, come here!”

Myung-Hwa hesitated, her heart racing with fear and apprehension. She knew all too well what could happen if she didn’t comply. Wiping her hands on her apron, she untied it, dread coiling in her stomach as she nervously approached him.

“Why are you so slow to come here?” Kwang-Seok snarled, his eyes narrowing with drunken fury. In a sudden, violent motion, he grabbed a glass vase from the side table and hurled it against the wall, shattering it into a cascade of glass.

Myung-Hwa flinched at the sound, standing before him trembling. Her eyes barely met his, her body tense, mind racing with fear of the inevitable. Kwang-Seok’s rough hand reached out, sliding up her thigh, under her skirt.

“No… Please,” Myung-Hwa whispered, her voice breaking as she tried to pull away, the panic rising within her. But even in his drunken state, Kwang-Seok’s grip was ironclad, yanking her back with overpowering strength, his touch rough and unrelenting.

“Stop it, Kwang-Seok. Youn-Jae will be home soon!” Myung-Hwa pleaded, her voice trembling as she fought to push him away, desperation clawing at her.

“This will be quick,” Kwang-Seok grumbled, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol as his grip tightened on her arm.

“No, please!” Myung-Hwa cried, her voice breaking, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ll give you money if that’s what you want!”

Kwang-Seok paused, a sneer twisting his lips as he released an irritated sigh. “Now you’re offering me money? What, do you have a man now?” His hand shot out, roughly grabbing Myung-Hwa’s face, forcing her to look up at him.

“What are you talking about?” Myung-Hwa’s eyes widened in shock, disbelief mixing with fear.

“Don’t treat me like an idiot!” he spat, his eyes dark and threatening. “If I find out you’re messing around with some other man, you’re both dead!” He shoved her away, his anger radiating throughout the small space as he stormed through the house, knocking over anything in his path.

Panicking, Myung-Hwa ran to the bedroom, digging through her bag with shaking hands. She grabbed all the cash she could find and rushed back, throwing it in Kwang-Seok’s face. “Here! Take it and just get out!”

Kwang-Seok caught the money, his expression shifting to one of disdain. “Oh, yeah? I’ll leave, but don’t expect me to come home anytime soon. I’ve got business with the Chairman,” he slurred, stuffing the money into his pocket. He shot her one last threatening look before stumbling out the door, slamming it with such force that the walls seemed to tremble.

Myung-Hwa stood there, breathing heavily, her body trembling from the confrontation. She felt a slight sense of relief knowing Kwang-Seok would be gone for a while, but the chaos he’d left behind was overwhelming.

After ten minutes, just as Kwang-Seok left the house, Youn-Jae and Ji-Won arrived home. Youn-Jae’s eyes quickly scanned the chaotic state of the house before darting to his mother, who was frantically tidying up, the food still simmering on the stove. He didn’t need to ask what had happened; the disarray spoke volumes, thankfully they had not crossed paths with Kwang-Seok on their way back.

He glanced at Ji-Won, who stood silently, his expression blank. Youn-Jae gently nudged Ji-Won toward the bedroom, trying to shield him from the worst of it. “Ji-Won, go change first,” Youn-Jae said softly, his voice gentle but firm. “I’ll help Mother clean up. I’ll call you when the food is ready, okay?”

Ji-Won nodded slowly, his small figure disappearing into the room. Youn-Jae helped his mother, his heart aching at the realization that this wasn’t the home Ji-Won deserved, nor the life he wanted for himself.

The story doesn't end here......