Winter came early that year.
The wind was colder.
The nights felt longer.
But inside the Kang household—
there was warmth again.
Lee Eun-Kyung was pregnant.
It had been years since Min-Jae was born.
And now—
another child was coming.
The house, once divided by silent tension,
began to change.
"Maybe this child will bring even more happiness."
"Min-Jae will become a big brother now."
"Things will get better."
For the first time in a long while—
people smiled without forcing it.
And Min-Jae?
He didn't fully understand what was happening.
But he knew one thing.
"There's a baby coming."
He would sit beside his mother,
placing his small hand on her stomach.
"Will the baby talk to me?" he asked once.
Eun-Kyung smiled softly.
"Not yet… but soon."
From that day—
Min-Jae started talking to someone who wasn't even born yet.
"Hey… I'm your brother."
"I'll protect you, okay?"
"You have to come soon."
He waited.
Not with patience—
but with excitement.
Days passed.
Weeks passed.
Months passed.
The house prepared.
Clothes were bought.
Small blankets were folded carefully.
Hope filled every corner.
Even Kang Hyun-Soo—
who usually stayed distant—
seemed… lighter.
For a moment—
everything felt like it was going to be okay.
Until that day came.
It was quiet.
Too quiet.
Eun-Kyung was taken for delivery.
Family members waited outside.
Minutes felt like hours.
Hours felt endless.
Min-Jae sat in a corner, swinging his legs.
He didn't feel fear.
He felt excitement.
"Today… I become a big brother."
He smiled to himself.
But outside—
no one was smiling anymore.
Whispers replaced conversations.
Eyes avoided each other.
Silence grew heavier.
Then—
a doctor walked out.
No one needed to hear the words.
They understood.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
A sound broke the silence.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just…
a soft, broken cry.
It was Eun-Kyung.
The baby…
didn't make it.
Min-Jae didn't understand.
He looked around.
Why was everyone so quiet?
Why was his grandmother crying?
Why wasn't anyone telling him anything?
He walked toward his father.
"Where is the baby?"
Kang Hyun-Soo didn't answer.
For the first time—
Min-Jae saw something strange in his father's eyes.
Not anger.
Not happiness.
Something empty.
"Appa…?"
No reply.
Min-Jae slowly turned—
towards the room where his mother was.
He stepped closer.
The door was slightly open.
Inside—
his mother lay on the bed.
Weak.
Still.
And crying.
Not loudly.
Not like before.
But quietly…
like something inside her had been taken away.
"Amma?"
She looked at him.
And in that moment—
something changed.
She smiled.
But it wasn't the same smile.
It was broken.
"Min-Jae…"
Her voice trembled.
"The baby… couldn't come."
He blinked.
"…Why?"
No answer.
Because there was no answer
a child could understand.
Min-Jae stood there—
waiting for someone to explain.
Waiting for someone to fix it.
Waiting for someone to say—
"It's okay. The baby will come tomorrow."
But no one said anything.
And slowly…
something unfamiliar crept into his chest.
Confusion.
Then silence.
Then…
a small crack.
That day—
Min-Jae didn't cry.
He didn't scream.
He didn't even fully understand what he lost.
But something inside him…
felt different.
The house changed after that.
The laughter didn't come back.
The warmth didn't feel the same.
The smiles became rare.
And Min-Jae—
the boy who once filled every corner with light—
started to feel something new.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But…
emptiness.
A space that wasn't there before.
And that space—
would only grow.