No one spoke for a while.
Not because there was nothing to say.
Because there was too much.
Four parents.
Two of them calm.Two of them catching up.
And in the middle—
Ha-rin.
"…This is uncomfortable," she said.
"Yes," I replied.
"…Stop agreeing."
"No."
Her father exhaled slowly, leaning forward with his hands clasped.
"…Let's organize this," he said. "Because right now, this feels… unstructured."
"That is accurate," I replied.
"…You don't have to keep confirming everything."
"Yes."
"…That was not a request."
"Understood."
My mother covered her mouth briefly, hiding a small smile.
"…He's always been like this," she said.
"That is not helping," Ha-rin muttered.
Her mother's attention shifted between us again.
"…How long," she asked.
"…Not long," Ha-rin replied.
"…That is not an answer."
"…It is enough of one."
Silence.
Her father nodded slowly.
"…Alright. We'll accept that for now."
That was the first compromise.
Small.
But real.
My father leaned back slightly.
"…What matters is what happens next," he said.
"Yes," I replied.
"…And what exactly is happening next," Ha-rin's mother asked.
Ha-rin crossed her arms again.
"…I'm deciding."
Her mother looked at her directly.
"…You've had time."
"…Not enough."
"…There's never enough time for this."
"…Then I'll take what I have."
Silence tightened again.
Then—
"…She's not wrong," my mother said calmly.
All eyes shifted to her.
"…Decisions like this don't come from pressure," she continued. "They come from clarity."
Ha-rin blinked.
"…Thank you."
"…Don't thank me yet," my mother said. "…I'm still annoyed."
"…That's fair."
Her father sighed.
"…We're not here to fight," he said. "…We're here to understand."
"That is efficient," I replied.
"…You really need to stop doing that."
"I will try."
"…You won't."
"No."
That ended that.
Ha-rin leaned back further into the sofa.
"…Can we not make this a meeting," she said. "…It feels like I'm being evaluated."
"You are being evaluated," her mother said.
"…That's exactly what I don't want."
"…Then what do you want."
"…Time."
Silence.
Her father looked at her carefully.
"…And him," he said, nodding toward me. "…Where does he stand."
All eyes shifted.
Again.
"…Here," I replied.
"…That's not an answer," he said.
"It is a position," I replied. "I am not leaving."
Silence.
Her mother studied me.
"…And responsibility."
"Yes."
"…Without hesitation."
"Yes."
She held my gaze.
Then nodded once.
"…Good."
Ha-rin looked between us.
"…You're both doing that thing again."
"What thing," her father asked.
"…The quiet approval thing."
"That is not what this is," he said.
"…It is exactly what it is."
My father spoke this time.
"…Approval is premature," he said. "…But stability is acceptable."
"That is reasonable," I replied.
"…Of course you agree."
"Yes."
Ha-rin dropped her head back.
"…I'm surrounded by people who sound the same."
"That is unfortunate," I said.
"…Very."
A small silence followed.
Not tense this time.
Just… full.
Then—
"…What about the outside," her mother asked.
That shifted everything again.
"…Agency," she added. "…Public."
Ha-rin closed her eyes briefly.
"…I know."
"…Do you."
"…Yes."
Her mother leaned forward.
"…Then say it."
Ha-rin opened her eyes.
Looked at all of them.
Then—
"…I'm not choosing them first," she said.
Silence.
No one interrupted.
"…I'm not announcing anything yet," she continued. "…But I'm not going back just to make things easier."
Her father watched her.
Long.
Then leaned back.
"…Alright," he said.
That was acceptance.
Not full.
But enough.
My mother nodded slightly.
"…Then we support that," she said.
My father didn't object.
"…We adjust," he added.
"Yes," I replied.
Ha-rin blinked.
"…That was fast."
"It was logical," I said.
"…It was terrifying."
"That is also accurate."
She let out a small breath.
Not relief.
Not yet.
But closer.
The room didn't feel divided anymore.
Still complicated.
Still heavy.
But no longer pulling in different directions.
For the first time—
Everyone was facing the same way