Chapter 29
Hain’s POV
I arrived at the airport carrying just a single bag. It wasn’t much—only a few clothes and my laptop, since I’d be in Busan for just three days. Short, simple, nothing to make a fuss about.
When I walked inside, I noticed sothing unusual right away. Instead of the usual long wait at security, one of the airport staff ca straight to the mont I showed my ticket.
“Mr. Kim, this way please,” the staff said politely, guiding past the regular line. No bag checks, no waiting, nothing. Everything went smoothly, almost too smoothly.
I let out a quiet sigh. Of course, this was Yuna’s doing. She must’ve arranged everything beforehand.
Stepping into the waiting area, I checked my boarding pass again. Business class. My lips pressed into a thin line as I sank into the wide leather seat once I boarded the plane.
She really didn’t need to do this for . A short trip from Seoul to Busan… even the train would’ve been fine. I didn’t need a seat this spacious, surrounded by businessn tapping away at their laptops.
Still, I couldn’t bring myself to complain. This was just how Yuna showed care in her own way. I knew better than to argue with her about things like this.
“…At least there’s no first class on this route,” I muttered under my breath. “That would’ve been too much.”
The cabin was calm, filled with suited businessn tapping at laptops and a few others dozing off. I leaned against the headrest, closing my eyes for a mont.
Before long, the plane touched down in Busan. The entire trip felt almost too short for how much thought I’d been putting into it.
I pulled out my phone as soon as we were allowed to switch it back on. My fingers hovered for a second before I typed a quick ssage.
[I just landed.]
Barely a mont passed before her reply appeared on the screen.
[Good. ssage again after you reach your aunt’s place.]
I couldn’t help but smile faintly at the speed of her response.
Slipping the phone back into my pocket, I stepped outside the terminal and raised a hand for a taxi. The driver was cheerful, chatting about the weather and pointing out landmarks as the city unfolded outside the window. Busan felt different from Seoul. Busier in so ways, but warr—like it welcod you instead of just swallowing you up.
About forty minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of a lively street near the waterfront. Shops and restaurants lined both sides, packed with locals and tourists. Right in the center stood a familiar two-story building with a red signboard: Haedong Sikdang.
I paid the driver and got out, tugging my bag over my shoulder, and send Yuna another ssage. With that done, I walked toward the restaurant.
The mont I pushed the glass door open, a familiar voice called out from behind the counter.
“Haemin-ah?”
I turned, and there she was—my aunt, Han Miyeon. She wore her apron as always, her hair tied back neatly. Her face lit up instantly, and she hurried over, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling into a tight hug.
“You really ca. Ah, you’ve grown even more handso since the last ti,” she said warmly, patting my shoulder.
Before I could answer, another voice ca booming from the kitchen. “Is that Haemin? Yah, why didn’t you tell us earlier, Miyeon-ah?”
My uncle, Park Taesik, erged, holding a ladle like it was an extension of his arm. His expression softened as soon as he saw . “You’re finally here, boy. It’s been too long.”
And then, from the stairs leading to the second floor, a younger voice shouted. “Hyung!”
My cousin, Park Jiwon, ca running down, his school uniform still halfway unbuttoned, a backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. At seventeen, he was all energy, his grin wide as he practically tackled with a hug.
“Hyung, you should’ve told you were coming! I was stuck at school all day!”
I laughed, steadying him before ruffling his hair. “I wanted to surprise you guys. Guess it worked.”
___________
The restaurant was closed early that evening, the sign flipped to “휴업 (Closed)” so the family could enjoy a private dinner together. It had been almost a year since I last visited, and even though the tables were empty of custors, the room was alive with familiar slls—grilled mackerel, beef kimchi jjigae, and freshly made side dishes that only Auntie could make taste this good.
I sat at the long wooden table with Uncle Taesik at the head, Auntie Miyeon bustling between the kitchen and the dining area, and my cousin Jiwon slouched casually across from . He was seventeen now, a little taller than already, with the kind of restless energy that ca with high school boys.
Uncle cleared his throat as he lifted his glass of water with a small smile. “It’s been too long, Haemin-ah. Nearly a year? You didn’t even co down during the last holidays.”
I rubbed the back of my neck, smiling sheepishly. “I know, Uncle. I got caught up with school. Ti passed faster than I thought.”
Auntie slid a steaming bowl in front of , her expression softening even as she scolded. “Caught up? That’s no excuse. You’re probably not eating properly in Seoul, are you? Don’t tell bread and instant noodles have beco your dinner.”
I laughed awkwardly. “I eat fine, Auntie. Don’t worry.”
Jiwon snorted, picking up his chopsticks. “He doesn’t look fine. Hyung, you’re shorter than now. Did Seoul make you shrink?”
I narrowed my eyes at him, pretending to be offended. “Yah, Jiwon-ah, respect your hyung. I’m still older than you, no matter how much you grow.”
The table broke into easy laughter, the kind that carried years of familiarity. Auntie shook her head and reached over to pile more fish into my bowl. “Eat. Talk later. You’ll need strength if you want to survive in that city.”
I obediently took a bite, savoring the taste. It was different from the food in Seoul—this tasted like ho. Simple, comforting, and made with love.
Uncle leaned back, folding his arms. “So, how’s university? You’re studying economics, right? That’s not an easy path.”
I nodded, swallowing before answering. “It’s… challenging. A lot of reading, a lot of pressure. But I’m learning a lot. I just need to keep up.”
Jiwon grinned mischievously. “Do you have a girlfriend, hyung? Is that why you’re so busy?”
I nearly choked on my rice. “What? No! Don’t say weird things.”
Uncle chuckled, and even Auntie smiled knowingly. “He’s at that age,” Auntie said, “where everyone wonders about those things. But Haemin-ah, don’t rush. Study first. The rest can wait.”
I forced a small laugh, hiding my discomfort. If only they knew the truth—that I was already married, that my life was tied so closely to soone none of them could even imagine.
For now, I just let the conversation flow, listening as Auntie talked about new dishes she added to the nu, Uncle discussed the busy tourist season, and Jiwon bragged about his school football matches.
For the first ti in a long while, I felt the weight of Seoul slowly lift from my shoulders. Surrounded by family, with the sound of chopsticks clinking and voices overlapping, I realized just how much I had missed this simple warmth.
_________
After dinner, I helped Auntie clear the table while Uncle turned on the TV for the news. Jiwon disappeared into his room, probably already on his phone chatting with friends. By the ti everything was cleaned up, it was past nine.
I excused myself, heading to the small guest room they had prepared for . It was modest but comfortable—a neatly made bed, a sturdy wooden desk, and a quiet air conditioner humming softly in the corner.
I sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out my phone. It had been a long day of traveling, but I knew she’d be waiting. Sure enough, when I opened my ssages, Yuna’s last text blinked at : [Don’t forget to call tonight.]
After I pressed the video call button, the screen lit up almost instantly.
Yuna appeared, already lying on the bed, hair down now, her face bare of makeup. Even in her tired state, she still looked effortlessly composed—calm eyes, steady expression.
I smiled. “Finally, I get to see you. Did you eat dinner?”
Her gaze held mine for a mont before she answered, voice low and even. “No. I wasn’t hungry.”
I sighed softly. “Yuna… you can’t skip als all the ti. You’ll get sick if you keep this up.”
She didn’t respond, just watched through the screen as if waiting for to keep talking.
So I did. “Anyway, I had a big dinner. Auntie cooked so much, I thought I’d explode. Uncle kept asking about my grades, and Jiwon—well, he wouldn’t stop teasing about my height. He’s taller than now. Can you believe that?”
Her lips curved faintly at the corner, but she said nothing.
I laughed to myself. “You should’ve seen Auntie’s face when I walked in. It’s been almost a year since I last visited, and she looked like she wanted to scold for disappearing so long.”
Yuna’s eyelids dropped slightly, and for a mont, I thought she was about to drift off.
“Yuna?” I said softly.
Her eyes opened again. “Keep talking.”
I blinked. “Huh?”
“I want to hear your voice,” she said, her tone calm but firm. “Stay with until I fall asleep. Don’t you dare end this call.”
My chest tightened at her words. I nodded quickly. “Alright. I’ll stay.”
So I kept talking. She didn’t say much, only gave the occasional hum or a quiet “mm,” but I knew she was listening. Her eyes grew heavier with each passing minute, yet she still clung to the call, her phone resting close as if it tethered to her.
Eventually, her breathing steadied, slow and soft. She had fallen asleep.
I smiled faintly, whispering into the quiet, “Goodnight, Yuna.”
And I stayed there, my own eyes growing heavy until I drifted off myself.
_____________
By the ti I woke, the sun was already high, spilling harsh light across the curtains. The clock on the nightstand read past eleven. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and reached for my phone—our video call had already ended. Yuna must’ve gone to work hours ago.
With a quiet sigh, I pushed myself up and headed for the shower. The hot water chased away the heaviness clinging to my body, and by the ti I stepped out, I felt almost human again.
I was still towel-drying my hair when the door creaked open. Jiwon poked his head in, grinning like he’d been waiting all morning.
“Hyung, want to co to the market with ?”
Before I could answer, Auntie’s voice rang from the hallway. “Jiwon! Don’t bother him—he just woke up!”
I chuckled, waving it off. “It’s fine, Auntie. I’ll go.”
The restaurant was already open, the sll of broth and fried oil wafting faintly through the building as Jiwon and I slipped out with a shopping bag in hand.
The market was lively, packed with vendors calling out prices, the chatter of custors mixing with the clatter of knives against chopping boards. We picked through vegetables, at, and spices, moving from stall to stall until our bags were heavy.
When we finally returned, the lunchti rush had begun. I carried the groceries in through the entrance—and stopped.
I heard Auntie’s voice right away. She sounded different—bright, happy, almost excited. She was talking to a custor at one of the tables.
Curious, I glanced toward the table she was serving. There, sitting with her back to , was a woman. Her brown hair fell neatly over her shoulders, shining a little under the light. There was sothing about her that made slow down.
No… it can’t be.
Before I could retreat, Auntie noticed at the door. Her face lit up as if she’d been waiting for this exact mont.
“Ah, you’re back!” she called, smiling wide. She waved over. Before I could react, Auntie walked quickly over to , smiling.
“Co on, Haemin,” she said, patting my arm. “There’s soone I want you to et.”
I hesitated, but Auntie was already leading forward. My chest tightened with every step. The closer I got, the stronger that uneasy feeling grew. I already had a guess of who it might be—but I didn’t want to believe it.
At Auntie’s cheerful gesture, she finally turned to face .
And in that instant, all my denial collapsed.
It was Sera.
User Comments
0 comments from readers