Chapter Text
The Seoul skyline was a blurry mess, streaked through the rain-slicked window of Jang Jaehyun's office. The city's neon signs smeared across the darkening evening in ambers of red and yellow. Jaehyun had been staring at the same case file for forty-seven minutes, reading not a word of it.
His pen clicked against the polished wood of his desk in a staccato rhythm.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Voices drifted past the frosted glass of his floor to ceiling windows, punctuated by the occasional honk of a car's horn. Jaehyun preferred it this way, alone with the quiet of his office.
His phone rang, shrill and insistent, and he glanced at the caller display. Unknown. He let it ring. It rang again, and again, and again.
His thumb hovered over the green button. Finally, he pressed it. "Yes?"
"Is this Jung Jaehyun?"
The voice on the other end of the line was clipped, precise. Administration, probably. He'd had his share of run-ins with Seoul National University Hospital over the years.
"Speaking."
"Sir, I'm calling from Seoul National University Hospital. There's been an accident. Your sister-"
Jaehyun's hand curled into a fist. The city blurred outside his window, but he didn't see it.
-the hospital waiting room reeked of antiseptic and bitter coffee.
Jaehyun had taken a taxi there, tie loose, suit unbuttoned, heart hammering loud in his ears. He could still feel the frantic rhythm as he ran past the reception desk, past the security guards, past the nurses, all of them giving him sympathetic looks before a nurse ushered him into this room.
This waiting room. Plastic chairs ringed a muted TV playing a cooking show. A woman on the screen gestured at a pile of dumplings. Jaehyun's throat tightened.
His sister had taught him how to fold dumplings. Every year, as a child, she had dragged him into the kitchen while they were visiting their grandmother.
"Jaehyun-ah, you're not folding them properly! Look, like this!" She had shaken the dough at him, flour powdering her cheekbones. "You've got to pinch the edges! No, no, you're doing it wrong-"
He closed his eyes. His hands trembled. The woman on the TV turned back to her dough, her smile gentle.
-the doctor arrived forty-three minutes later, and Jaehyun knew it because he had been counting the seconds on the clock above the reception desk.
"Mr. Jung," the doctor said, his face carefully schooled into an expression of deep sympathy. "Your sister, Jung Jihyun, she was in a car crash. Mrs. Jung, her husband, they're-"
The world tilted. Jaehyun's fingers dug into the fabric of his pants. "Is she... is she okay?"
The doctor's expression didn't change. Jaehyun's stomach clenched.
"They didn't survive the impact. She was pronounced dead on arrival, and her husband passed shortly after."
Jaehyun swallowed hard. His throat was tight, a sour taste of copper coating the back of his tongue. The doctor's mouth moved, but it was a language he couldn't hear.
"...their son is in surgery. He was in the car as well, the impact must have hit him in the head. He's in critical condition. He was their only child, their-"
Their son. His sister's son. Minho.
Jaehyun's four year old nephew with his gap toothed grin, with his dinosaur pajamas and the way he'd peeked around his mother's leg in surprise the last time Jaehyun had seen him. He was supposed to come to his birthday party next month, he was supposed to-
"Is he alive?" Jaehyun's voice was rough.
"Stable, for now." The doctor's grip on his shoulders was light, but the weight of the news bore down on Jaehyun's chest like a lead balloon. "Minho."
Their son. Jaehyun's niece's son. His sister's son. Their... everything.
Jaehyun slumped forward in his chair, his hands gripping his knees. He hadn't known what to say to his sister when she passed, hadn't known what to feel. He wasn't sure what to say to his sister's son now.
"The child," he rasped to the doctor. "Where is he now?"
"Surgery room two. The surgery is going to last several hours, and you should probably wait-" The doctor broke off as the intercom crackled to life nearby. "Mr. Jung, they're done with the surgery! The child is being taken to the-"
Jaehyun stood abruptly. "Is he alive?" he demanded.
"Yes, he is," the doctor replied. "Alive and stable. The child is in the pediatric ICU. They will let you see him now."
Jaehyun stared blankly at the floor. The doctor gave him a strange look. "Is there somebody I can call for you? A family member?"
His mother had passed away two years ago. His father had remarried and left the country. Jaehyun had no family.
"I'm his only family left."
-the night in waiting rooms stretched on, and Jaehyun did not sleep. He watched the TV for hours, switching channels absently whenever a new episode started. He had watched the sky darken from black to grey to bruised purple outside the waiting room windows. He had refused the night nurse's coffee, refused the blankets she pressed into his chest. Refused everything except the small, cold hope that Minho would live.
At six AM, a nurse appeared at his side. "Mr. Jung, the surgery is over. Your nephew is in the ICU. He is stable, but he will have to stay there for additional tests."
Jaehyun stood at her prompting, his heart pounding. The pediatric ICU was a world of gentle beeps and flashing lights. A world where a small, pale figure with a gash across his forehead, an arm in a sling, and a tube snaking up his nose lay curled on a bed.
"Minho," Jaehyun whispered, sliding his hand down the boy's forehead and brushing the hair back from his eyes. "Minho."
The child's eyelids fluttered. His little fingers twitched.
"Minho, it's your uncle," Jaehyun murmured, leaning closer. His heart ached in his chest. "Can you hear me?"
Minho's little eyes fluttered open, unfocused and dazed, and then his lips formed a sound. "Eomma..."
And Jaehyun, who had hidden his grief behind stone walls as a child, behind cold masks as an adult, cracked like a dry branch in the wind.
"Your mother," Jaehyun pressed his palms to Minho's tiny hands. "She's not here. I'm sorry, Minho-ya. She's not here. But I'm right here. Uncle Jaehyun is here." Minho's eyelids drooped. His tiny fingers curled around his uncle's thumb. Jaehyun didn't break his hold.
-the social worker arrived the next morning, a petite young man with glasses and an earnest expression. "Mr. Jung."
He introduced himself as Yushi, and he had the gentle voice of someone used to comforting the hurting. "I understand that this has been an awful time for you, but I would ask that you take a few minutes to speak with me."
Yushi's voice was almost gentle, but it made Jaehyun's skin prickle. Jaehyun simply nodded as he gestured to an empty chair beside him. His throat was too tight to respond.
"As you may know, your sister and brother in law did not have a will specifying a guardian for Minho. In such cases, the courts typically appoint the closest living relative. This is a difficult choice to make in circumstances like these, but the law is quite clear. You, Mr. Jung, will be appointed Minho's temporary guardian until further arrangements can be decided."
Jaehyun stared at him. "Tempor- My sister's son is four years old, and I'm his guardian?"
"You are the closest living relative he has."
"The other side of the family is his paternal family. Minho's father's family." Jaehyun frowned.
"His father was estranged from his parents, and they have no knowledge of Minho or his whereabouts," Yushi said carefully. "In addition, he has a younger brother." His fingers drummed on his knee. "A Mr. Kim Doyoung, who has been contacted. Doyoung has requested to see Minho and is currently en route to Seoul. I imagine the hospital will contact you as well."
Jaehyun's throat constricted. He had met his brother in law's family once, at a restaurant, four years ago. He remembered a tall woman with a pointed chin and a son with kind eyes with a face that resembled a bunny, who smiled politely at his mother when she had complained about Jaehyun's suit being too formal for a casual meal.
" Doyoung ," he repeated, testing the sound of the name. He had difficulty recalling the face.
"He is a pediatric nurse," Yushi said. "At a hospital in Busan."
Jaehyun's stomach twisted. Jaehyun was currently single. He did not have the means to support a four-year-old, but his career as a prosecutor gave him steady employment. "I can hire a nanny, I can-"
" Mr. Jung , in cases like these, where neither of Minho's parents' families are present to appoint a legal guardian, the court will grant joint custody to both of your households," Yushi said. "This is an appropriate arrangement given Minho's age and the potential strain on a single guardian with a busy occupation."
Jaehyun's eyes widened. "Joint custody? There's no reason for that!"
"Minho will have a stable, secure environment with proper care and consideration for his well being."
Jaehyun's jaw tightened. "My career path is much more demanding than yours. I will be able to provide him with more resources and opportunities for growth."
"It is a very competitive profession."
"I can afford to support him," Jaehyun said. "I have a stable income-"
"The court will take into account the living conditions of each household. An apartment in Gangnam is not particularly suited for a grieving child."
His words struck him like a blow. Jaehyun's fingers curled into fists. He looked down at Minho, who was still asleep in his bed. He had failed his sister. He had barely even visited her in the three years since her wedding. He had missed everything - Minho's first steps, first word, his first day of kindergarten.
He had convinced himself that he would make it up to them. Now he didn't know what to do.
"I'll do whatever it takes."
-two days later, Doyoung arrived. Jaehyun was in the hospital, waiting, when the elevator doors slid open and Doyoung stepped out. He recognized the man immediately. He had the same kind eyes as Minho, though they were red-rimmed and puffy, and he wore the same apologetic smile, one that barely touched his thin lips. Doyoung looked older, his hair was shorter and his face had thinned, but his build was the same. He wore an oversized hoodie and wrinkled jeans and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, and the dark shadows under his eyes told Jaehyun he hadn't been sleeping well.
"Mr. Jung," Doyoung said, his voice hoarse. "I'm Doyoung. Minho's-"
"Uncle," Jaehyun said. He straightened. "You came from Busan."
"Yes, the earliest train I could find."
"How is he? Is he-"
"He's stable," Jaehyun said flatly, answering the unspoken question. "He's been sleeping fitfully; the doctors said something about a concussion, but nothing serious. He keeps asking for his mother."
Doyoung's face crumpled. The pain was so obvious, so raw, that Jaehyun turned away.
"Can I see him?" Doyoung asked. He hesitated, then added, "Please."
Jaehyun nodded. He led the way to the pediatric ward. Minho was awake when they arrived. His face lit up when he saw Doyoung.
"Samchon!" he cried, reaching up with his good arm. Doyoung crossed the room in a heartbeat, lifting the boy carefully. Jaehyun stood by the doorway, watching the exchange, his hands tucked in his pockets. Doyoung was murmuring something to Minho, his chin resting gently on the boy's head. Minho's fingers curled into Doyoung's shirt, his tears dampening the fabric.
"I want Eomma, I want Appa, Samchon! Where are they? Why won't they come?" Minho's sobs echoed off the white walls.
Jaehyun had seen grief before. He had seen the inside of grief, and it was something he kept buried, locked away behind a mask of ice that had taken three decades to form. Even now, Jaehyun could see the raw emotion on Doyoung's face and know that he was feeling the same pain. It was unbearable, this all-consuming, all-encompassing feeling that clawed at his ribs and threatened to pull him under.
"I miss Eomma," Minho sniffed, wiping his runny nose on Doyoung's neck. He looked up at his uncle, his dark eyes wide with confusion. "I want to see Eomma. I want to see Appa. Why won't they come?"
Jaehyun didn't answer. He didn't know how. His hands clenched tighter in his pockets. Doyoung didn't know why they were gone, either. He had barely known them.
"I'm sorry, Minho-ya," Doyoung said, rocking him gently. "Eomma and Appa aren't coming." His eyes were red-rimmed and glossy with unshed tears, but he gave Minho a small smile. "It's okay, samchon. I'm here. Minho. Your Uncle Jaehyun is here too."
Minho blinked up at him. His tiny fingers twitched. Jaehyun stepped forward, his breath catching in his throat.
"Doyoung..." he began.
"Minho, would you like to come here?" Jaehyun asked gently. His voice was steady, but inside, he was screaming. "Would you like to meet your Uncle Jaehyun?"
The child looked from one man to the other. "Where's Eomma?"
"Go to sleep, Minho-ya," Doyoung murmured. He pressed his lips to the boy's damp hair. "It's okay. Samchon is here. You're safe."
Jaehyun wanted to protest, to demand that Doyoung take Minho home, but something in Minho's expression stopped him. The boy was too small to understand that Jaehyun had just been given a second chance, a chance to finally make up for years of neglect and selfishness. With a deep breath, Jaehyun turned away from the sight.
-the custody hearing was two weeks later. Jaehyun and Doyoung sat facing each other on either side of a table in a courtroom, the air stiff with the tension of judgment. The judge was a short woman with greying hair and sharp eyes and a no-nonsense expression. She regarded them both with an appraising look once she had taken her seat. "Mr. Jung," she said, adjusting the glasses on her nose, "Mr. Kim. Thank you for being present. I've received your applications, and-"
Jaehyun's heart pounded. "I will take care of Minho," he said firmly. "I am his guardian."
Doyoung said nothing. He was staring at the floor.
"You've stated that Minho should be placed in a stable, secure environment. Mr. Kim, what conditions would you offer?" The judge asked. Doyoung opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't get a chance.
"I will take him to Seokhwa," Jaehyun said. His voice was tight with determination. "To my mother's house."
"The countryside?" The judge frowned. At Jaehyun's expression, she sighed. "I understand your grief, Mr. Jung, and I understand that Minho needs to be somewhere safe. However, that location would not be ideal under the current circumstances."
"It can be a home for him," Jaehyun argued. "It can be a place where he can grow up and heal."
"Minho is a child. He doesn't deserve to be in a situation like this."
The judge's words sent a jolt of anger through Jaehyun's chest. "He deserves to know that he has family who care about him!" he shot back. "He deserves to have both of his uncles in his life!"
"I agree," the judge said quietly. "Which is why the court will grant you joint custody of Minho. Neither of your households will be able to take legal responsibility solely upon themselves." She paused, her expression unreadable. "Please take this into consideration as you begin preparing to care for the child."
The gavel came down with a finality that sent Jaehyun's heart sinking to his knees. He turned to Doyoung, his hands tightening into fists at his sides.
-the argument over living arrangements continued for another three weeks. Jaehyun's home wasn't suitable for a grieving four-year-old, and neither was Doyoung's. In spite of their combined efforts, the child was going to be living in Seoul.
"I don't have a home," Jaehyun growled at Doyoung one afternoon as they stood in the hospital corridor. Minho had fallen asleep in his room. "I have an apartment in Gangnam with a view of the river and an alarm system."
"It isn't a real home," Doyoung said. "Minho needs to be somewhere he feels comfortable and safe."
Jaehyun's jaw tightened. "What about Seokhwa?"
Doyoung blinked. "What about it?"
"It's my mother's house. It's out in the country. It's bigger than my apartment," Jaehyun growled. "What's wrong with it?"
"I don't think you should move to the countryside," Doyoung said slowly. "You work in the prosecutor's office. I don't know if you can-"
"I can take some time off," Jaehyun interrupted. His gaze was fixed on the far wall. "The house is old, but there is a garden and a few trees in back. My mother always wanted to start a flower business, and she had this vision in her head for the property. It's really quite beautiful."
"I can take a medical leave too," Doyoung said quietly. "They have a hospital in Seokhwa."
"You don't have to do this."
"I know I don't have to. I want to. Minho needs both of us, and I think that's what the court decided." Doyoung's voice was firm but gentle. "We'll take him to Seokhwa."
Jaehyun looked at the man, this stranger who had become his partner in grief, his ally in the fight for Minho. He had saved his nephew from himself, from the selfishness that had taken years to cultivate. He had given him something better.
"Okay," Jaehyun said simply. "Okay. We'll go to Seokhwa."
-the drive to Seokhwa took two hours. Minho sat in the back seat of Jaehyun's sedan, strapped into a car seat that was a gift from Doyoung, and watched the city pass by. Jaehyun kept one hand on the wheel and the other on the backseat, checking on the boy. Doyoung sat in the front, his phone balanced between his fingers as he watched Minho in the rearview mirror.
When the GPS announced their arrival, they were cresting a hill and the village of Seokhwa spread out before them.
"There it is," Jaehyun said, gesturing at the houses. "That's home."
The house was bigger than he remembered, a traditional hanok with sweeping eaves and a front yard that stretched out in a wild riot of trees and flowers. Jaehyun's heart clenched at the sight of it. It was more than he remembered, more than he deserved.
Jaehyun's car rumbled over the pebbles of the driveway, and Minho stirred in his seat. "Are we there yet?" he asked sleepily.
"Yeah, Minho-ya," Doyoung murmured. He unbuckled the child from his car seat and set him on the ground before turning to Jaehyun. "We're here. This is your new home."
Minho's eyes rounded with wonder as he took in the house, the trees. "It's big," he said finally. "Like a castle."
Jaehyun looked around, taking in the old but beautiful house. He felt something like guilt twist in his gut. It had taken him until he was thirty-two years old to admit that he had no home, that he was always looking to return to this village.
We are home.
When they reached Minho, he was standing beside the road, blinking in confusion at the forest that surrounded the house. "Do you like it?" Jaehyun asked him, his voice awkward. He was not used to asking questions like this.
The boy looked up at him. "What is this place?"
"Seokhwa."
"Is there a castle here?"
Jaehyun chuckled, but there was a catch in his throat. "No, but we can fix it up and make it your own." Jaehyun crouched in front of Minho and gently pulled him from his car seat. "Come on, Minho-ya. It's getting late."