They left the store together. Mi-Kyung stayed close, her hand lightly holding his sleeve. As they walked back toward the salon, she hesitated at the door.
"Min-seok... I don't think I can go home like this tonight," she whispered, voice small. "The house is empty, the kids are out... and after everything, being alone feels terrifying. Could you... stay with me for a while? Just until I feel okay?"
He nodded immediately. "Of course. As long as you need."
They walked the short distance to her home slowly. To lighten the mood, Min-seok started with gentle, silly jokes—nothing crude, just light enough to coax a small smile.
"You know," he said, "after tonight, I think we should start a new salon service: 'Emergency Rescue Haircuts.' First one's free if the customer screams loud enough for me to hear from the street."
Mi-Kyung let out a surprised, watery laugh, covering her mouth. "That's awful."
"Or how about this," he continued, "next time a landlord shows up, I'll just stand in the corner with a sign that says 'Professional Bodyguard: Kicks to the nuts included in rent package.'"
Another soft giggle escaped her, the sound fragile but real. "You're ridiculous."
"Hey, if I can make you laugh after all that, I've earned my keep tonight."
By the time they reached her house, the heavy weight on her chest had lifted just a little. She unlocked the door, still holding his sleeve.
"Thank you," she said, turning to him. Her eyes were softer now, less haunted. "For everything. For making me feel... normal again, even just for a minute."
Min-seok gave her a warm, reassuring smile. "Anytime. Now go inside, get comfortable. I'll stay right here until you're ready for me to leave."
Mi-Kyung's eyes filled with tears again, but she squeezed his hand back. After they finished, she cleared the dishes while he washed them. When they were done, she looked at him shyly.
Mi-Kyung paused at the threshold of her home, the new clothes feeling soft and safe against her skin, but the night's terror still lingered in her bones. She looked back at Min-seok, eyes shimmering with gratitude and a quiet plea.
"Min-seok… come inside," she said softly, her voice trembling just a little. "Please. Have dinner with me. And… stay over tonight. There's an empty room you can use. I just… I'm scared I'll have nightmares if I'm alone. After what happened… I don't think I can face the dark by myself."
Min-seok's expression softened immediately. "Of course I'll stay," he said without hesitation. "Whatever you need."
She led him inside, flicking on the warm living-room lights. The house was quiet, the kids still out for the evening. Mi-Kyung moved to the kitchen almost on autopilot, pulling out ingredients for a simple dinner—kimchi jjigae, rice, and some side dishes she had already prepared earlier. Min-seok followed, rolling up his sleeves to help chop vegetables and set the table.
They ate quietly at first, the clink of spoons the only sound. Then Min-seok reached across the table and gently took her hand in his.
"You're not alone tonight," he said. "I'm right here."
Mi-Kyung's eyes filled with tears again, but she squeezed his hand back. After they finished, she cleared the dishes while he washed them. When they were done, she looked at him shyly.
"Will you… stay with me until I fall asleep? Just… talk to me? Or… sing me something? My kids used to ask me to do that when they were little."
Min-seok smiled softly. "Of course."
They went to her bedroom. She changed into comfortable pajamas while he waited outside the door. When she came out, she sat on the edge of the bed, looking small and vulnerable.
Min-seok sat beside her, taking her hand again. In a low, gentle voice, he began to sing an old Korean lullaby—soft, soothing, the melody slow and comforting.
Mi-Kyung listened, eyes closing, tears slipping down her cheeks.
"Did… your sisters make you do this too?" she whispered when he finished the first verse.
Min-seok nodded. "Yeah. All the time."
She gave a small, watery smile, but there was a subtle flicker in her eyes—something soft and unspoken, a tiny pang of jealousy that surprised even her. "Aren't you spoiling them too much?" she asked quietly, her voice almost teasing, yet carrying the faintest trace of longing.
He shook his head, eyes distant for a moment. "Not at all. They… they witnessed our mother's murder. My father did it. I was out that night. When I came home… they were just sitting there, covered in blood, shaking, completely traumatized.
They've had nightmares ever since. Flashbacks. Panic attacks. So I do everything they need. Sing to them. Hold them. Stay up all night if I have to. Wash them up, get them dressed. Whatever helps them feel safe again."
He paused, voice softening even more. "I became their mother. Even though they're just a few minutes younger than me, as the older sibling it's my duty to look after them. So I took on the role my mother used to have—looking after them exactly the way she used to."
Mi-Kyung's breath caught. Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh God… Min-seok, I'm so sorry. I made that joke earlier about… about you pampering your sisters. I didn't know. I feel terrible. I'm so, so sorry…"
Tears spilled over as she bowed her head, apologizing over and over.
Min-seok gently lifted her chin. "Hey… it's okay. Really. You didn't know. And you're not a bad person for laughing a little tonight. You needed it to get over what happened today."
But she kept whispering apologies, voice cracking.
He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest like a mother would comfort a frightened child. "Shh… it's alright. You're alright. Just let it out."
The roles felt strangely reversed—she was the mother of three, yet here she was, being held and soothed like a little girl. And somehow… she didn't mind at all. For once, she didn't have to be the strong one.
She could simply stop worrying, stop protecting, and let someone else take care of her. The pampering, the gentleness—it felt like a warm blanket over her exhausted heart.
She lifted her head slowly and pressed a soft, grateful kiss to his forehead.
"Thank you," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "From the bottom of my heart. You've given me more kindness tonight than I've felt in years.
If you ever need anything—someone to talk to, someone to hold you when you're lonely, someone to look after your sisters in your absence, someone to comfort you when you're tired of being strong—I'm here. I'll do anything in my power to help you. Anything."
Min-seok's eyes softened. He brushed a tear from her cheek. "I know."
She leaned in again, pressing another tender kiss to his forehead, then one to the top of his head, pouring all the love and gratitude she could muster into the simple gestures.
Then, in a small, shy voice, she made one last request.
"Could you… hold me tonight? Just for a little while? I'm scared the nightmares will come."
Min-seok nodded without a word. He shifted on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard. Gently, he lifted her head and guided it to rest on his lap. He stroked her hair slowly, fingers moving in soothing circles.
"Is this enough?" he asked softly.
The moment her head settled on his lap, memories flooded back like a gentle tide. She remembered how her own mother used to do exactly this—when she was a child, waking up crying from a bad dream, her mother would sit just like this, place her small head in her lap, stroke her hair, and hum softly until the fear melted away.
She remembered the warmth of her mother's palm against her cheek, the way she would hold her hand during midnight thunderstorms, whispering, "Mama's here, my little one. Nothing can hurt you."
Mi-Kyung had been such a crybaby back then—always running to her mother with every scraped knee, every nightmare. And now… now she was crying again, just like that little girl.
'What's happening to me?' she thought, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. 'When did I become a crybaby again? How is he giving me my mother's vibes? Is it because he looks after his sisters the way my mother looked after me? How can even his small gestures make me fall apart like this, over and over?'
Her sobs deepened, shoulders shaking. "I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" she kept whispering.
Min-seok kept caressing her hair, calm and steady. After a moment, he spoke softly. "Don't overthink anything. Just sleep."
Mi-Kyung's eyes fluttered open. "How… how did you know I was overthinking?"
He smiled gently, using his fingers to turn her face toward him. With the same tenderness her mother used to show when she was little and spiraling, he wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs.
"Because you're thinking too hard about things that don't need thinking," he said quietly, just like her mother used to. "Stop thinking about anything else. Just sleep. I'll hold you till you need me."
He leaned down and pressed a small, protective kiss to her forehead.
Mi-Kyung's heart melted completely. She reached up, placed her head back in his lap, and used his palm as a pillow, curling her fingers around his wrist like she used to do with her mother. He kept stroking her hair, slow and rhythmic, until her breathing evened out and she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
If my story made you smile even once, that's a win for me. That's what I want to live for—brightening dull days and reminding people that joy still exists. My dream is to keep getting better, to someday reach legendary level of storytelling.
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