Ye-seul sat tucked away in the gazebo, her knees folded beneath her as the evening breeze played with her hair. The pages of her comic book drew out giggles, then gasps, and finally a loud crash-out laugh that startled even the birds perched nearby. For once, peace felt real—until it shattered.
Namjoon's shadow stretched across the floor before his voice ever did. He stepped in, his face carved in that familiar mask—cold, unreadable.
Ye-seul's mood snapped. Without hesitation, she slammed her comic shut and stood, her body already turned to leave.
"Ye-seul." His deep voice rolled through the air like an unshakable command.
She froze, annoyance flaring hot in her chest before she slowly rolled her eyes and pivoted back.
"Come. Sit." His words weren't a suggestion—they cracked like an order.
"I don't want to." Her tone was flat, her expression drained of even the smallest hint of warmth.
"Why?" he pressed, not curious—challenging.
"Because I don't want to see your face," she shot back, eyes unflinching, cutting into his.
Namjoon chuckled, the sound laced with bitter sarcasm. "Do you hate me that much?"
"More than you know. You're already dead to me. Don't you realize that?"
His smirk deepened. "Because of your lovely elder brother?"
"I'm glad you know that." She paused only long enough for her words to sting before adding, "And if you're here to drag me into something about your wife, don't bother. I feel nothing for either of you. If anything, I pity Kira—having to live with venomous people like you."
Her words struck sharp, but Namjoon absorbed them with a smirk that screamed indifference.
"You think I'm a monster?"
"You've always been one. At least I had hope for Ji-uk once. But you? You've been a psychopath from the start."
"Funny," he countered smoothly, "considering I was sixteen when you were born. How can you be so sure?"
Ye-seul scoffed, her patience gone. "I'd be leaving."
Her sandals crunched against gravel as she stormed out. The fire in her chest burned hotter than the cool night air could soothe. Ahead, the mansion's tall double doors loomed like watchful eyes. She pushed them open, her footsteps echoing across the cold marble floor.
The silence was suffocating.
Then—
"Unnie!"
A small, bright voice pierced the gloom. Ye-seul's head snapped up just in time to see a whirlwind of pigtails and laughter charging down the staircase. Kira's tiny legs barely kept up with her excitement as she barreled into Ye-seul's arms.
"Unnie, I was just asking grandma about you!"
Ye-seul's hardened heart softened instantly. "Omo, when did you come back?"
"Not long. Mom dropped me off—she said she had somewhere to be."
Ye-seul brushed her niece's hair with aching tenderness. They don't deserve such sweetness, she thought bitterly.
"Unnie, did you say something?" Kira blinked up at her.
"Nothing, sweetheart." Ye-seul knelt to meet her at eye level. "Would you like to live with me?"
Kira tilted her head. "You want me to stay here?"
"Yes."
Kira beamed and pressed Ye-seul's cheeks between her tiny palms. "Unnie, I want that too! But… I still have school."
"I can take you every day."
"But mother and father wouldn't agree. They'd miss me. But I promise—I'll come see you every chance I get." Her words carried a strange maturity, like a little adult comforting someone much older.
Ye-seul's heart squeezed. She took Kira's hands. "Then let's get ice cream today. And afterwards, I'll help with your homework."
Kira's smile lit the hall. "I love it!"
---
The bell above the ice cream shop jingled as Ye-seul pushed the door open, cool air sweeping over them. Kira skipped along at her side, tugging eagerly.
"Unnie, hurry! They have strawberry swirl!"
Ye-seul chuckled. "Alright, two strawberry swirl with extra sprinkles."
As the attendant scooped, the bell jingled again. Ye-seul barely noticed until a sulky child's voice piped up behind her.
"Mother, that was the last one. I told you we'd be too late."
Ye-seul glanced back, then smiled gently. She pressed her own ice cream into the child's small hands. "Here. You can have mine."
"Thank you, pretty unnie!" the little girl chirped, darting off with joy.
"Unnie, take mine instead," Kira offered, tugging her sleeve. "I don't even like this flavor that much."
Ye-seul shook her head, stroking her hair. "Keep it. I know how much you love strawberries."
A voice spoke behind her.
"Excuse me…"
Ye-seul turned—and froze.
"Ms. Hyun-woo?" Her breath caught.
Ji-hye smiled warmly. "So you're my daughter's Princess Elsa."
From behind her, the little girl peeked shyly—ice cream in hand.
"Ha-eun?" Ye-seul whispered in surprise.
"Yes, this is my lovely Ha-eun," Ji-hye said, pride softening her face. "She just told me how you gave up your ice cream for her."
"It was nothing," Ye-seul said, kneeling to the child's height. "I can't believe I finally got to meet the famous Ha-eun."
Kira gave a polite bow. "Good afternoon."
Ji-hye arched a brow at Ye-seul, silently asking for an explanation.
"This is Kira. My niece," Ye-seul answered.
"Namjoon's daughter?" Ji-hye asked, her surprise evident.
"Yes," Ye-seul replied simply.
"Do you want to see something cool?" Ha-eun asked Kira eagerly.
"Can I, unnie?" Kira asked.
"Of course," Ye-seul said.
The two girls dashed off in laughter, leaving Ye-seul and Ji-hye behind.
"Shall we sit?" Ji-hye suggested.
They settled at a corner table, the hum of the shop wrapping around them. Children's laughter mixed with the clink of spoons, but Ji-hye's gaze never left Ye-seul.
"You're quieter than usual," Ji-hye observed gently. "Are you alright?"
Ye-seul let out a brittle laugh, stirring her melting ice cream. "Don't I look alright?"
Ji-hye tilted her head, lips curving. "No. You look like you're ready to chop someone's head off."
A real laugh slipped from Ye-seul, though brief. "Maybe. I just… had a fight. If you can call it that. With the devil himself."
"Your brother?"
Her throat tightened. "He cornered me in the gazebo. Tried to act like he still had some right over me. I told him he's dead to me. And the worst part is… it was too easy. He's my brother, Ji-hye. I should feel something. But all I feel is hate. Except—" her eyes flickered to the sound of Kira's giggles—"except when it comes to her. She's the only reason I haven't cut him out completely."
Ji-hye's gaze softened. "Sometimes even blood cuts the deepest. Protecting yourself isn't wrong."
Ye-seul's lips trembled. "It hurts. I hate him. But I hate myself too—for not being able to let go of the last piece of care I still have."
Ji-hye reached across, brushing Ye-seul's hand. "That isn't weakness. That's proof you still have a heart. Even if he's forgotten how to use his."
Ye-seul blinked hard, swallowing back the knot in her chest.
Across the shop, Kira and Ha-eun toppled a tower of napkins, their laughter rising like sunlight through storm clouds.
"I want to raise her," Ye-seul whispered.
"You can," Ji-hye assured softly. "She loves you too. Just… don't make her hate her parents. Teach her what real love feels like."
Ye-seul's lips curved faintly. "Hmm. That makes sense. You really are God-sent, Ji-hye."
Ji-hye chuckled quietly. "You have no idea."