A chilly evening in Kyoto.
Minho comes home from school—laughing with a friend on his bike, bento box swinging in his bag. He's humming to himself, unaware of the storm about to hit.
As he climbs the stairs of their apartment building, he hears something strange—
A voice he hasn't heard in a decade.
Loud.
Cracking.
His sister. Screaming.
🎭
[Minho freezes outside the door, heart racing.]
"Did I… hear wrong?"
"That's Macha…?"
He opens the door.
And he hears it again—clearly this time.
Mao (shouting):
"You're doing this again, Papa! You're deciding for us without asking!"
Father (angrily):
"This isn't a decision for discussion, Mao. It's a necessity. They're opening the new Shanghai branch and I've been selected—this is an honor."
Mao:
"Then go! Take your honor! Take your suitcase and your memories and go! But you're not taking Minho with you!"
Minho slowly walks down the hallway toward the common room.
He's never—never—heard this kind of fire in her voice.
Not since their mother died.
Not since the day she whispered through tears: "Smile. If I break, everything breaks."
💥
[Minho stands just outside the door. Listening. Frozen.]
Father (tired):
"Why are you acting like I'm abandoning him? He's my son too, Mao. I raised you both. I made every sacrifice. And now that I want to go home—to my country—you call me selfish?"
Mao (voice cracking, but furious):
"Selfish?! You think this is about you?! Papa, I didn't even get to grieve! I didn't cry when Mom died because I had to stay strong for Minho. I left behind everything. Friends. School. Dan—"
She cuts herself off. Her voice falters.
Mao (softer now, but shaking):
"I gave up everything. And I'm not blaming you for that. I made that choice. But don't ask me to lose him too. Don't ask me to let you take away the only family I have left just because you feel… done here."
Father (raising his voice):
"He's not yours, Mao! He's my son! You act like you're the only one who matters—like I didn't bury the same woman you did. You think I don't miss her every day?"
Mao:
"Then act like it! Stop making decisions that break this family in silence—just like you did after the funeral! I never got a chance to be a daughter again! You made me into a mother at sixteen!"
The words hang in the air like a sharp slap.
💥 Minho Enters
[Minho suddenly walks into the room, eyes wide, face pale.]
Minho (quietly):
"…Stop."
They don't hear him.
Mao:
"I don't care if you go to China. I care that you want to take him! He's not ready. He's happy here. He has a life here—"
Father:
"I'm not asking! I'm his legal guardian, Mao!"
Mao:
"And what am I then? Just his laundry service?! His lunch packer?! I raised him like my own!"
Minho (shouting suddenly):
"ENOUGH!!"
[Everything stops.]
Their voices, their anger, the air in the room—all freeze.
Mao turns slowly. Her eyes are red.
Their father's shoulders are tense, fists clenched.
Minho walks into the space between them.
Minho (quietly):
"I've never… heard you yell before. Either of you."
Silence.
Minho:
"I thought… when Mom died, we promised not to fall apart. But you two—"
His voice cracks.
Minho:
"You're both trying to protect me so hard… that you forgot to protect each other."
He turns to his father first.
💬 Minho to His Father
Minho:
"Papa, I know this job matters to you. And I know you've always loved Mom. You gave up everything to raise us in a country that wasn't yours. You let Mao become more than a sister. And I'll always be grateful for that."
Minho (sincerely):
"But you can't take me away like I'm your suitcase. You didn't even ask what I want."
Father (softly):
"Minho…"
Minho:
"If I leave this life behind, it should be my choice. Not something that makes Macha cry when no one's watching."
💬 Minho to Mao
He turns to Mao next. She's standing still, tears in her eyes, frozen like a child who's said too much.
Minho (gently):
"And you, Macha…"
He steps forward and wraps his arms around her waist like he used to as a child.
Minho:
"You don't have to hold everything inside anymore. You don't have to be Mom."
Mao (voice breaking):
"If I let go, everything falls apart."
Minho:
"No. If you fall apart, we'll catch you. Me and Papa—we're not just your weight anymore. We're your family."
She finally breaks.
Her arms wrap around Minho. She sobs—not loudly, not like a storm. But like a room finally exhaling after ten years.
🌧️
Their father steps forward slowly. For the first time in years, he lays a hand on Mao's shoulder.
Father (gently):
"I was wrong to plan this without asking. I thought… maybe I just wanted to go back to where it all started. But maybe what's left of Miya… is here. In this room. In you two."
🌙 Narration
That night, they didn't make a decision.
They didn't pack bags or book tickets.
They simply sat together—three people who'd been surviving on silence for too long.
And for the first time in ten years…
They allowed the sound of grief to become the sound of healing.