not-yuyu

[not-yuyu]

REFLECTIONS | In-Ho

Warning(s): Angst and mentions about suic1de, in-ho being smarter than he appears

Chapter two | Part 1 in my profile

Staring at the ceiling seemed like the only thing I could do to keep myself from getting lost in my thoughts. The first ray of sunlight hadn’t yet appeared, but I was more awake than ever, eyes fixed on the darkness as the silence of dawn wrapped around me.

4:39 a.m.

Jun-Ho would be leaving for Tokyo tonight. I wouldn’t see him for nine long months. The idea of his absence weighed on my chest like a stone. How was I supposed to come home from work and not find him there? The night he told me, we argued almost until morning. I raised my voice, I yelled, I begged, but there came a point when I realized it was useless. What good was it to ask him not to go if he was going to leave anyway?

I couldn’t stop him. His job was important to him, he loved it, and I couldn’t be the reason he gave up what made him happy.

That’s why I was here now, awake when I should’ve been sound asleep. I clung to his bare chest as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. His calm breathing comforted me and hurt me all at once, because I knew he’d be far away soon. I didn’t want time to move forward. Every passing minute felt like a thief stealing what little I had left of him.

My fingers moved slowly across his face. I caressed his cheeks, traced the curve of his nose, even the little lines that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he smiled. It was like I was trying to carve every detail into my memory, even though I already had them memorized. I leaned in and left a kiss at the corner of his lips, so soft it barely touched him. Then I returned to my place, still wrapped around him, wishing with all my strength that his boss would call right now and cancel that damn investigation.

—The light from my phone screen lit up slightly, brightening the room. I picked it up carefully, trying not to wake him, and checked what it was.

In-Ho:

Sorry to bother you

at this hour, I can’t sleep.

My brother’s leaving

tonight, right? Do you know

what time his flight is?

I quickly started typing my response.

Me:

Good morning, In-Ho.

Jun-Ho’s flight

leaves in the afternoon,

he needs to be at the airport

by 6:00 p.m.

Are you planning to see him off?

Jun-Ho began to stir beside me. I thought of turning off my phone so I wouldn’t wake him, but In-Ho was already typing again.

In-Ho:

I didn’t think you’d

be awake, sorry.

And yeah, I do plan to

say goodbye. You don’t

mind if I come too, right?

You might want

a moment alone with him.

Me:

In-Ho, of course

I don’t mind hahaha.

We’ll be at the

international terminal.

In-Ho:

Got it, captain.

I laughed at the nickname, and as soon as I set the phone down on the nightstand, Jun-Ho’s eyes began to open. The first ray of sunlight slipped through the curtains, softly lighting up his sleepy face.

I smiled instinctively, as if that small gesture could hold back the weight I felt in my chest. I leaned in and began covering his face with kisses, one after another, while he smiled with his eyes still closed, enjoying the moment.

“Good morning…” he murmured with a rough, sleepy voice. I, on the other hand, pouted slightly.

“They’re not such good mornings, sweetheart,” I gently reminded him. He opened his eyes just enough to look at me with tenderness before his smile slowly faded.

“Ah… that’s right…” he said, as if he’d just remembered the truth. His expression shifted, and a sigh slipped from his lips. “Damn, I’m going to be so miserable without you.” His words carried a weight I couldn’t ignore, and I could only look at him, a grimace forming on my face.

“You’re leaving anyway.” That phrase echoed in my head like a mantra. I had to remind myself, as if repeating it would ease the pain of his departure.

“Will you really miss me?” I asked rhetorically, but didn’t wait for an answer. In one swift motion, he flipped me onto my back and lay on top of me, carefully balancing his weight so he wouldn’t hurt me.

“Uhm, I don’t know. Do I look like someone who won’t miss you?” he joked before covering my face with kisses, mimicking what I had done just minutes earlier.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. His warmth, his laughter, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered... it was something I was going to miss more than words could say. But even as I laughed, a part of me knew these were the last moments of our marriage for a long while.

Honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to survive without him.

At least I thought In-Ho would be around to keep me company.

The day was passing at a pace that felt cruelly fast, as if time itself were conspiring against me. I wanted with all my being to stop the clock, to freeze this moment, to avoid the inevitable outcome. I didn’t want to watch him close his suitcase, place it by the entrance of our apartment, or say goodbye to our cat, stroking its soft fur with that tender gesture he always used.

As Jun-Ho carefully packed his belongings into his bag, my eyes settled on the photograph from our wedding that adorned the living room shelf. There we were, smiling and happy, wrapped in a joy so pure it now felt almost unreachable. I clung to that memory, desperately wishing to return to that day, to that version of us that knew nothing of separation.

I know. My reaction might seem exaggerated, as if I were preparing to bury him. But in three years of marriage, we had never been apart for so long. And while I tried to convince myself that I could handle it, my fear wasn’t for me. It was for him.

"I'm done, honey. I'm ready." Jun-Ho’s voice broke the silence, followed by the sound of his bag's zipper closing.

I lowered my gaze, unable to meet his eyes without tears threatening to fall. My hands trembled slightly as I tried to hold onto my composure, though it kept slipping through my fingers.

Jun-Ho, always so perceptive, quickly noticed my inner struggle. With a soft laugh that tried to ease the tension, he came closer to me. His warm hands cupped my cheeks with a gentleness that completely disarmed me, forcing me to look at him. Before I could say anything, his lips brushed against mine in a soft kiss, almost as if he were trying to seal the promise of our reunion.

“Don’t be sad, sweetheart.” His laugh was a balm that barely eased my sorrow. “We’ll have video calls every weekend, we’ll still go on dates, even if they’re long-distance, and I’ll call you every day. I’ll never stop telling you everything.��

“You know it’s not the same.” My voice came out broken, heavy with a truth I didn’t want to accept.

“No, it’s not,” he admitted with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But it’s better than nothing, don’t you think?”

His optimism, though well-meaning, drew a dry laugh from me. Nodding reluctantly, I accepted his logic. What else could I do?

During the drive to the airport, my heart waged a constant battle against my emotions. I tried harder than ever not to fall apart, but the pressure in my chest grew with every kilometer that brought us closer to his departure. Since I left the military, I’d become more fragile—both physically and emotionally. Before, situations like this barely affected me, but now... now loneliness was a monster I was terrified to face.

“Think about it this way—if I finish the case early, I might be back sooner than expected,” Jun-Ho said, trying to cheer me up as I held back a heavy sigh.

“Jun-Ho…” I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “If they gave you nine months, it’s because the case isn’t simple. I’d be surprised if they don’t end up extending your stay.”

“Are you doubting your husband’s skills?” he replied playfully, trying to get a smile out of me.

“A little, yeah.” I admitted, though my tone was still affectionate. Jun-Ho was excellent at his job, but his noble heart often led him to questionable decisions—decisions that, in his effort to protect others, complicated everything.

“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” His laugh was light, but I could see the sparkle in his eyes. “Now I’m even more motivated to work hard and surprise you by coming back in three months.”

I forced a smile, though we both knew that was unlikely.

The airport appeared on the horizon, and my body tensed instinctively. I couldn’t stop the anxiety from taking hold until Jun-Ho, distracted by a notification on his phone, spoke again.

“Ah, In-Ho already got to the airport. He says he’ll be waiting at the main entrance.”

I felt a brief moment of relief. At least I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to him alone.

“I’ll find parking.” Jun-Ho calmly adjusted the wheel. “Let him know we’ve arrived.”

With trembling hands, I took out my phone and searched for In-Ho’s name in my contact list, grateful I wouldn’t have to bear the weight of this farewell entirely on my own.

As soon as we crossed through the entrance gate, In-Ho pulled his brother into a strong, affectionate hug. The intensity of the gesture brought an immediate smile to my face. There was something comforting about seeing such a solid bond between them—a reminder that even in difficult moments, family love could hold us together.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving for so long,” In-Ho murmured, his voice tinged with melancholy, though he tried to keep his composure.

Jun-Ho let out a soft laugh, shaking his head lightly. “Please, don’t cry like Soo-Jin,” he joked, throwing me a sidelong glance that only made me look away with a small, crooked smile.

In-Ho lifted his head to look at me over his brother’s shoulder, returning a faint smile before replying:

“Believe me, if she didn't cry for you, you'd be dead."

Jun-Ho let out a brief chuckle as he stepped slightly away from his brother, placing his hands on his hips.

“Well, you’ve got a point there.” He sighed, and before In-Ho could respond, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close with the familiar ease I knew I’d miss so much. “I’m going to miss you both so much.”

“We’ll miss you too,” I answered softly, searching for his gaze, though he avoided meeting mine.

Then the airport horns echoed through the air, interrupting the moment with an announcement I had feared hearing:

“Boarding for flight 3356, all passengers must begin check-in at gate twelve.”

My chest tightened at those words, and I clung to Jun-Ho with my eyes, as if I could hold him back through sheer willpower.

“There’s my call,” he said with a weak smile. “It’s time to go.”

In-Ho checked his watch—a pricey model that would have usually caught my attention, but right then, I couldn’t have cared less. “Didn’t think your flight would board this soon,” he muttered, frowning.

Jun-Ho released me and turned toward me, his eyes scanning me from head to toe, as if trying to memorize every detail before leaving. Then, without warning, he pulled me into a warm hug, kissing my cheek repeatedly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

I didn’t respond. I knew if I opened my mouth, my voice would shatter into pieces.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land,” he added, pulling away from the hug. I crossed my arms, trying to shield myself from the cold emptiness his absence was already leaving behind.

He turned to his brother, patting him on the shoulder. “Take care of each other, please. I’ll be back really soon, I mean it.”

In-Ho slowly stepped closer to me, his presence comforting. “Of course I will—though it’s more likely she’ll end up taking care of me,” he joked, casting me a conspiratorial glance that managed to draw a faint smile from me.

Jun-Ho laughed, but there was a note of melancholy in it. “Yeah, I figured as much. But still, I want both of you to be okay while I’m gone. So… take care of yourselves, or I’ll go crazy in Japan.” He adjusted the strap of his bag over his shoulder and grabbed his suitcase.

“Alright, brother,” In-Ho replied sincerely, his hand resting on my back, offering silent support.

When I looked up at In-Ho, his dark eyes were fixed on mine, radiating a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed until that very moment.

I turned back toward Jun-Ho, just as he was walking away. His eyes were shining, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was about to cry too.

“I love you,” I said with a firm voice that rose above the airport noise.

He stopped and looked back at me with a smile that seemed to stretch across the growing distance between us. “I love you too. I’ll be back soon,” he repeated before disappearing into the crowd.

In-Ho and I stood in silence, watching as his figure slowly faded until we could no longer see him.

I let out a deep sigh, trying to fill my lungs with air while the emptiness in my chest expanded.

“Well, he’s gone,” I murmured with forced sarcasm, trying to lighten the mood, though it was clear I was the one who needed support.

In-Ho studied me carefully, his expression serious. “You don’t have to pretend, Soo-Jin. If it hurts, you can cry. It’s okay.”

His words—so simple and direct—shattered the wall I’d tried to build. Before I knew it, I was crying uncontrollably, hiding my face in my hands.

In-Ho wrapped an arm around my shoulders, gently guiding me so I could cry without being seen by the crowd. “It’s okay, Soo-Jin. It’s okay,” he whispered in a tone that, though I didn’t fully understand why, slowly calmed me down.

He led me to the car and opened the passenger door for me.

“I’ll drive. I’ll take you home, if that’s alright,” he said gently.

I shook my head, unable to speak through my sobs. I just climbed into the car, grateful not to be alone in that moment.

“Thank you, In-Ho,” I murmured as I accepted the cup of hot tea he offered. The chamomile aroma filled my senses, comforting and warm amidst the gray day. I blew gently on the surface before taking a small sip. His calm smile seemed like a silent attempt to soothe my mood.

“You don’t have to thank me, Soo-Jin. It’s the least I can do for you,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity.

He sat down on the sofa, just a few centimeters away. His hands were folded on his lap, and he let out a sigh that carried an invisible weight. His eyes seemed to wander to an indeterminate point, as if searching for the right words in some corner of his memory.

“I’m sorry for the comparison I’m about to make, but…” My tone faltered, and he looked up, expectantly. “How did you manage to cope with the loss of Eun-Ji without losing yourself? Jun-Ho is leaving for nine months, and I feel like I have no purpose in this life.”

His words took him by surprise. There was something so raw and vulnerable in my question that I felt a lump form in my throat. I watched as his gaze drifted into memories, probably those dark days that had marked him so deeply.

“Well… it was hard. Very hard,” his voice was barely a thread, but each word carried the weight of his past pain. “I felt like I was going to die at any moment because I couldn’t bear her absence. But… I remember you helped me a lot in trying to move on.”

I furrowed my brow, confused by his statement.

“Me?” I asked, unable to hide my surprise.

In-Ho laughed nervously and looked away toward his hands. “Yes. The day you came to my apartment to bring me food… I was about to kill myself.”

His words left me frozen. The tea in my hands felt heavier, as if I was now carrying the weight of that revelation.

“But when you arrived and saw me in such a… miserable state, you sat me on the sofa and spoke to me so seriously that my conscience weighed more than my desire to die. You made me realize there were many people who loved me too, and destroying myself wouldn’t bring Eun-Ji back.”

As he spoke, my mind pulled me back to that day. I remembered the terror I felt seeing him in such a fragile, broken state. It was one of the few times in my life when words came from me with a clarity I didn’t know I had. I had never been comfortable expressing my thoughts, which was why I had chosen the army over psychology school.

“I didn’t know my words could change anything,” I murmured, almost embarrassed by my disbelief.

“They changed everything,” he replied firmly, and his eyes met mine, sincere and grateful. “I’ll always be in your debt for that. And I’m still grateful you keep caring about me, like last week at the supermarket.” He smiled, recalling our casual encounter.

“You don’t have to thank me for anything, In-Ho,” I replied, returning his smile. “So, are we even?”

We both laughed, the atmosphere lightening for the first time in what seemed like hours.

“About my brother…” he began, adopting a more serious tone. “What I can recommend is that you live your life as you’re doing now. Work, rest, do what you like, and of course, talk when you can. But let’s be honest: Jun-Ho is very focused on his work. If his research is as complicated as he makes it seem, don’t put all your hope in his calls.”

I felt a pang of sadness at the truth in his words.

“So, you’re saying I should live my life as if I were single?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, still trying to process his advice.

In-Ho shrugged with a smile that seemed to mix amusement and resignation.

“To some extent, yes. But don’t misunderstand me. I’m not suggesting you go on dates with other men.” He chuckled softly, and I couldn’t help but follow suit.

“That would be the last thing I’d do,” I replied with a light laugh. “But you might be right.” I added after a few seconds, taking another sip of tea. “It’ll be hard to distract myself, but I’ll try.”

“I can help with that,” he said suddenly, interrupting me. I looked up, surprised by his determination. “This week my boss will be away, so I can take a few hours off. Would you like to have dinner on Saturday? That way you’ll have something to distract you, and I wouldn’t mind the company either.”

His proposal felt so natural that I didn’t hesitate to accept.

“I’d love to,” I replied with a genuine smile.

In-Ho’s expression lit up, and his enthusiasm was almost contagious.

“Perfect. See? Time will pass faster that way.”

I smiled again, holding onto that hope. As I finished my cup of tea, I felt that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to face these months without feeling completely lost.

All thanks to In-Ho.

Author's note: This chapter is funny when you finally know the context behind it lmao. Btw, Eun-Ji is the name I gave to In-Ho's wife since she doesn't have a canon name.

Mention for @frontwomann ^-^

[not-yuyu]

REFLECTIONS | In-Ho

Synopsis: Kim Soo-Jin is in a complicated marriage with police officer Hwang Jun-Ho, whose dedication to his work has created distance between them. In her loneliness, she finds support in her brother-in-law, Hwang In-Ho, with whom she begins to spend more time than she expected.

What seemed like a relationship built on trust soon becomes complicated as they discover a mutual attraction. However, as Soo-Jin grows closer to In-Ho, she begins to notice that he is hiding more secrets than she ever imagined.

Warning(s): Infidelity, eventual smut, mentions of death and murd3r, everything bad about Squid Game.

English is not my first language!!!

Ch:02

— No, he’s not answering.

— Something terrible must have happened to him!

She was sitting in the dining room across from me. My husband and mother-in-law shared a palpable sense of worry. The absence of In-Ho, my brother-in-law, had become a constant source of tension. Since his wife’s death six months ago, followed shortly by the loss of his job, he had fallen into a pit no one seemed able to pull him out of. Although his physical and emotional deterioration was obvious, everyone acted as if nothing was wrong—until a situation like this exploded.

— Don’t worry, Mrs. Hwang, I’m sure In-Ho is safe. Maybe he spent the night at a friend’s place… — I tried to console her, reaching out to gently touch her hand, only for her to pull it away sharply.

— Do you think if he had friends, he’d be in this situation, woman!? — she snapped at me harshly, and I stifled a sigh, already used to her outbursts.

My husband, Jun-Ho, tried to calm her by placing a hand on hers.

— Soo-Jin might be right, mother. I’m sure In-Ho is okay.

— My son is not okay! If he were, we wouldn’t be going through this! — she shot back, raising her voice, her face flushed with indignation.

— We’ve talked about this before, Mrs. Hwang — I interrupted, catching her attention. — In-Ho lost his wife just six months ago. It’s natural for him to still be depressed; it’s part of the grieving process.

— No, it’s not natural! — she exclaimed, glaring at me. — When I lost his father, I didn’t behave like that.

I scratched my forehead discreetly, trying not to show my growing discomfort.

— You were older when Mr. Hwang passed — I replied firmly, though without hostility. — And you had two children who depended on you. Can you imagine what it’s like for In-Ho to lose his wife so young, without even a child to connect him to her memory? The poor man is completely alone.

She leaned back in her chair, offended, but didn’t refute my words.

— Of course he’s not alone! — she protested, crossing her arms. — He has me and his brother. He should find strength for us.

I sighed, giving up. Some battles just weren’t worth fighting.

— I tried calling again, and he’s still not answering — Jun-Ho cut in, unaware of our argument.

— We have to go look for him at his apartment! — his mother exclaimed again.

— No, mother. You go to the cemetery, and I’ll check his building and the surrounding area. I’m sure he’s nearby — my husband said with determination.

— Can I come with you, Jun-Ho? — I asked, hoping to be of help.

He gave me a brief look before shaking his head.

— No need, honey. Go home and make something to eat. If I find him, he’ll need something warm.

Ah, of course. The kitchen.

Because apparently, it doesn’t matter if your wife was a former army captain—as long as she knows how to make stew.

It’s not that I didn’t appreciate Jun-Ho; he was a wonderful man. He just... could be a complete idiot sometimes.

— Fine — I agreed with resignation, rising from my seat and slipping on my jacket.

Jun-Ho took my hand to guide me to the door. Behind us, his mother was still bombarding In-Ho with obvious questions, as she always did.

Once we finally stepped out of the apartment, I took a deep breath, trying to release the built-up tension.

— Are you sure you don’t need my help? — I insisted one more time, a mix of concern and frustration in my voice.

— Thanks, sweetheart, but no. I need to do this alone. It’s the only way to figure out how to help him.

There it was again—that masculine conviction that confused determination with stubbornness. That’s why he became a police detective and still can’t even find his own brother.

— Alright. Then I’ll go to the store and buy some ingredients. See you at home?

— Sure. If I find In-Ho, I’ll bring him straight there.

— Fine — I replied, this time more curtly, letting go of his hand and heading down the stairs without looking back.

There were so many ways to help In-Ho, but they never listened. And that was what hurt the most.

The bags weighed heavily in my grip, the burden of what felt like half the pantry sinking into my hands. We’d had to do a monumental grocery run; it had been days since we’d stocked up, choosing instead to buy only what we needed from street vendors due to the endless work hours that kept us tied to an exhausting routine.

Jun-Ho’s job was a mystery in itself: one day he’d vanish without warning, and the next he’d spend an entire week locked inside the house, barely moving from the couch. I, on the other hand, had a fixed and immovable schedule: eight tedious hours a day in those four oppressive walls I called an office, answering calls from clients who, paradoxically, hated the service we offered.

What a shitty job.

Still, I endured it all for him, because I loved my husband and, with every fiber of my being, I wanted to build a home together. But lately, that vision seemed to be fading, dissolving amid unpaid bills and a never-ending list of "maybe someday." When would we have enough money to do more than just survive? I didn’t know.

The streets were packed, a living chaos of people rushing as if life were fleeing from them. For a moment, I was grateful to have a car; I recalled with horror the years when the subway was my only option. It was a suffocating maze, pure torture.

The noise surrounded me, but my mind was elsewhere, worried about dinner and… something else. Something caught my attention.

—Wait a minute...

I spun around abruptly toward the same direction, unable to ignore it. There, across the street, was him. There was no way I was imagining it: it was In-Ho, walking with a nonchalance that mocked the gravity of the situation. His crisp white shirt, perfectly ironed black pants, shiny sneakers—everything about him radiated an unsettling perfection. Even his hair and skin looked flawless, as if nothing had happened.

I froze, as if my body had been trapped in time. The shoves and curses from passersby slipped past my awareness. All of my focus was fixed on him, on that firm, indifferent step I had missed so much.

When my brain kicked back in, I ran. The weight of the bags made my legs feel like lead, but I didn’t care. I had to reach him.

—In-Ho! —I shouted, my voice cracking with the weight of emotion and exhaustion.

He stopped immediately, as if my voice had cut through the city’s deafening noise. He turned slowly toward me, with that calm that always defined him, and his eyes searched for me with a mix of surprise and caution.

—Soo-Jin? —His voice was soft, almost familiar, as if he didn’t realize the seriousness of his disappearance. His gaze swept over me, analyzing me silently. —What a surprise to see you here.

Surprised? I was the one surprised—but not by seeing him in the street, rather by his nonchalant attitude. My breath was still ragged, air heavy in my lungs after running. I adjusted the bags in my hand and met his gaze, feeling the rage start to mix with the relief.

—Surprised to see me? —I shot back between gasps, unable to hide my indignation. —Your whole family thinks something terrible happened to you! You don’t answer your phone, you give no sign of life. Your mother was on the verge of a breakdown this morning!

In-Ho raised an eyebrow, his expression barely changing, as if my words failed to pierce his apparent calm.

—Ah, right... —he murmured, like he’d only just remembered. —My phone broke a few days ago. I forgot to tell my mother.

—“Forgot”? —I repeated, incredulous. My chest tightened, fury and relief threatening to burst out all at once. But instead of giving in, I forced a sarcastic smile. —Well, I’m glad you’re okay, but you really should let your family know. Jun-Ho’s about to call the police, if he hasn’t already.

In-Ho frowned slightly, as if the comment genuinely surprised him. His gaze dropped to the ground for a moment before returning to mine.

—I had no idea things had gotten that bad. I’m sorry. I must’ve caused a lot of trouble.

I wanted to scream yes, that he’d caused more trouble than he could imagine—but something in his posture stopped me. Despite his flawless appearance, there was something dim in his eyes, like the man I knew was fighting an invisible weight.

—It doesn’t matter now —I replied, softening my tone. —What matters is that you’re okay.

An awkward silence settled between us while my mind analyzed every detail of his figure. His white shirt was still spotless, not a wrinkle in sight, and his posture was that of someone trying to project normalcy, though exhaustion hung at the curve of his shoulders.

—Were you headed somewhere? —I finally asked, breaking the tension.

He looked down at his outfit, as if weighing whether to tell me the truth.

—Not really. I just needed to get out. I’ve been feeling… off these days. I thought dressing up a little might help.

—I get that —I answered, my voice gentler. I remembered the overwhelming pain I’d felt when my mother died, and how I tried to drown it in shallow distractions. —We do what we can to keep going.

His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he wanted to say something more but couldn’t find the words. I took the moment to adjust the bags in my hands.

—Come home with me —I offered, struggling to pull out the car keys. —Jun-Ho will be thrilled to see you. He’d never forgive me if I left you here alone.

He hesitated, but eventually nodded.

—Alright.

We got in the car in silence—the kind of silence that wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but left room for thoughts to wander freely. I couldn’t help sneaking glances at him while driving. There was something odd in his expression, like he was physically present, but his mind was miles away.

—In-Ho —I began, choosing my words carefully. —Can I ask you something personal?

He turned slightly toward me, his gaze tired but open.

—Of course you can, Soo-Jin.

—Do you really feel better? —I asked, trying not to sound too intrusive.

He let out a deep sigh, full of sadness that seemed impossible to hide.

—Not as miserable as before. I miss her every day, but… work keeps me busy.

I caught the detail immediately.

—You’re working? Since when? —I asked, my curiosity sparking.

—A couple of months ago. No one knows. I kept it a secret.

—Why?

—My mother’s too overprotective. She’d probably think I’m overworking to avoid thinking about Eun-Ji. And Jun-Ho... —he paused, a bitter smile twisting his lips. —He’d ask too many questions.

His answer made it clear he didn’t want to keep talking about it, and I respected his silence.

When we got home, I noticed how distant he looked. His eyes were fixed on some undefined point in the horizon, and it gave me a knot in my stomach.

—In-Ho, can you help me with the bags? —I asked softly as I parked.

—Of course, sister-in-law —he replied with a weak smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

As I got out of the car, I pulled out my phone and looked for Jun-Ho’s contact. Better to let him know right away, before the reunion turned into something messier than necessary.

—What's going on? I’m looking

for In-Ho near his building…

—Jun-Ho, he’s with me.

I brought him home so

you can talk to him.

He’s doing much better.

—On my way.

—Jun-Ho wasn’t lying when he said you were an excellent cook.

In-Ho smiled as he savored another bite of my kimchi. I responded with a soft laugh, enjoying the warmth of the shared dinner.

—When I was in the army, I had a teammate who insisted on cooking for everyone. She was so bad at it… —I chuckled at the memory— that I figured if I gave it a shot, I could at least do better than her. And I wasn’t wrong.

In-Ho let out a deep, warm laugh, taking another bite.

—Don’t you miss the army? —he asked, a curious undertone in his voice.

—Sometimes —I admitted after a brief pause—. It was a demanding job, but I loved giving orders.

I laughed lightly, though his eyes lingered on me, scanning for something beneath my words.

He put down his fork and looked at me intently.

—If you miss it, you should talk to Jun-Ho about it.

—I left the army to build a life with your brother. There’s no turning back now — I said, shaking my head.

—Three years of marriage and still no kids. You’re young, Soo-Jin. You’ve got time to do whatever you want. Kids can wait.

—What if they don’t? —I replied, looking away—. I don’t want to start something just to abandon it later. I need stability for them, and for me.

—I get it —he nodded, though a glimmer of amusement crossed his lips—. Still, if you don’t do what you love, you might end up being a really grumpy mom.

I narrowed my eyes at him with mock offense, and he laughed—really laughed—for the first time in months. The moment felt almost perfect, until three sharp knocks on the door shattered the calm.

—That must be Jun-Ho —I murmured, getting up quickly to answer it.

As soon as I opened the door, Jun-Ho walked in without a word. His face was tense with worry—and now I understood why.

—Goddammit, In-Ho! Why would you disappear like that? —he snapped as he entered.

In-Ho began to repeat the story he had told me earlier. Jun-Ho listened carefully, with more empathy than I expected. I guess he, too, knew what it meant to carry grief.

—It’s lucky Soo-Jin found you —Jun-Ho said, glancing between us. I blushed slightly and shrugged as if to downplay it.

—Your wife is a good woman —In-Ho said sincerely, and his words caught me off guard—. Take care of her, Jun-Ho.

—I know —my husband replied, smiling warmly at me—. She’s the best.

My smile slowly faded when I saw In-Ho’s calm expression falter. Eun-Ji. Her absence still haunted him, and our presence must have stirred the wound.

—Want some tea, In-Ho? —I offered, trying to ease the tension.

He shook his head and stood abruptly.

—No, thanks. I think I should go.

—Wait —Jun-Ho stopped him with a gesture. In-Ho froze, waiting.

—I was thinking about something on the way here —he began, immediately grabbing our attention—. Something that involves you and Soo-Jin.

We exchanged confused looks.

—What is it, Jun-Ho? —I asked, already feeling a knot form in my stomach.

He took a breath and dropped the news like a bomb.

—I have to go to Tokyo for nine months. It’s a new case.

My eyes widened.

—What?

In-Ho stayed silent, but his surprise was obvious.

—I know it’s sudden —Jun-Ho continued, looking directly at me—. And I know it’s a long time, but I need you to hear me out.

I pressed my lips together, trying to stay calm.

—I need you two to look out for each other while I’m gone. If not, I won’t be able to leave with peace of mind —his voice carried a pleading tone I had never heard from him before.

I stared at him, stunned.

—How long have you known?

—Two weeks —he admitted after a pause—. But it wasn’t confirmed until today.

I closed my eyes, holding back my frustration. Two weeks. And he waited until now—until after asking me to support his grieving brother.

Fucking coward.

—Of course I’ll be there for your brother —I said firmly, though my voice trembled with restrained anger—. But as for you… we’ll talk once I’ve had time to process this.

Without waiting for a response, I got up and walked toward the bedroom, leaving both men at the dining table.

—Goodnight, In-Ho —I said with a nod as I passed him.

—Goodnight, sister-in-law —he replied softly, just before I closed the door behind me.

Authors note: The entire fanfic is made on Wattpad in Spanish, I will upload the next chapters.

This is so weird lmaooo