It was around eight at night when Jong Kook arrived in a quiet residential area in Gyeonggi. He slowed down considerably as he turned right into a familiar street before finally parking his car in front of a big traditional house that was his childhood home. Turning off the engine so that he wouldn’t disturb the neighbours, Jong Kook made no move to get out of the car; he simply sat motionlessly inside and staring dumbfounded at the closed gate.

He didn’t know what made him drive all the way from Ilsan to Gyeonggi instead of going home to Anyang – it wasn’t like this area was close from either place. What was he looking for in here? What did he expect by coming home? And most importantly, what was he going to say to his mother? It wasn’t as if he could simply lie to the woman who gave birth to him – she wouldn’t believe him; the woman seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to spotting lies from him and his brother. Jong Kook leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel.

A tapping sound on the window startled him so much that he accidentally hit his head against the horn of the car. It blasted a more startling sound and Jong Kook jumped in his seat. He turned to the window to see who it was, glaring in threatening manner. His mother was standing outside the car with her hands on her hips, staring back at him in puzzlement. The muscular man grabbed his chest in an attempt to calm the wild beating of his heart then slowly opened the car door.

“Omma,” he greeted breathily, “Omma, you scared me half to death. What are you doing out here this late?”

The old woman squinted at the taller younger man inquisitively. “I should be the one asking, child,” she pointed out, but she didn’t ask. She only gave him a warm hug then led her son inside with a hand on his back. “I had a feeling I needed to go outside just now and there I found you. Apparently young Jong Kook was calling for his Omma,” she said lightly.

Jong Kook cringed a little at being called ‘young’ but he let it go – he would always be deemed as a child in front of her mother anyway. “I didn’t call you,” he said.

She smiled and gave him a quiet gaze, pointing at Jong Kook’s chest. “Your voice didn’t, but your heart did,” she said cryptically. “If I hadn’t gone outside, would you still have knocked the door to greet me? I don’t think so. Aigoo, children these days have no manners.”

The man grinned sheepishly at getting caught red-handed, his cheek reddened. It was true that he had been thinking of turning on the ignition and left straight away. He followed his mother’s order when she told him to wash his hands and have dinner without protest – it would have been in vain anyway since she never took a ‘no’ for an answer when it came to feeding her boys. When he returned to the dining room, Jong Kook was greeted by his favourite food – seaweed soup and grilled meat with a bowl of rice.

He wasn’t hungry but the warm food was so inviting that he couldn’t resist taking a bite. He didn’t regret his decision – the warm food seemed to serve more than stomach-filler. Somehow as he swallowed bits by bits of his food, Jong Kook felt like better – as if someone was enveloping him with love and bandaging his wounded heart. The older woman sat opposite wordlessly opposite him at the dining table; her almond-shaped eyes watched her son contemplatively like a hawk, staring right into Jong Kook’s soul instead of his physical being. Jong Kook tensed up a little; he avoided the searching eyes, afraid that she would find something he didn’t want her find.

“Jong Kook,” she began when he was halfway through his meal. “Son, you are in so much pain right now, aren’t you?”

The son felt his throat closing at the direct question. He swallowed the remaining food he was chewing – it oddly tasted like sandpaper scratching his throat now.

Not faltering her gaze, the grey-haired woman said calmly, “I read the magazine articles.” There was no judgement in the way she spoke; she said it flatly like someone’s commenting about the weather. When there was no reply from her son, she went on, “But that isn’t what really is bothering you, is it?”

Jong Kook remained silent and for a moment his mother thought that he didn’t want to talk about it, which was absolutely fine by her – she knew how stressful it had to be to talk about this issue all the time. She would be all ears if Jong Kook decided to talk but she would still be there for him if all he needed was a silent company. Patting his hand lovingly, telling him in her own way that it was alright, the woman stood up to refill Jong Kook’s empty glass. It was then that she noticed that Jong Kook was breathing unevenly and his shoulders hunched forward as if carrying a load of burden.

She cocked her head to see his face but he lowered it so that it was hidden under his short hair. The only thing she could see was droplets of tears creating wet spots on the wooden table. The older Kim let out a heavy sigh; she rounded the table and took the spoon and rice bowl off Jong Kook’s hand, putting them on the table. She circled her son’s shoulders from behind in a motherly embrace. His pain was so evident that she couldn’t help but feel for him.

Jong Kook was very gentle by nature despite his physical appearance. He was always mistaken as brash and unfeeling because of his look but the truth was out of her two sons, Jong Kook was the more sensitive one; he was always the one who brought her flowers on her birthdays and on Mother’s Day when her older son only apologised for forgetting again – he wore his heart on his sleeves and was easily hurt because he empathised too much.

“You are hurt for her,” she said understandingly. He didn’t have to tell her that because she always knew when he was hurting – she was his mother, his anchor. The woman rubbed his back soothingly as he cried unabashedly. “You are hurt because she is hurting – because she is hurt for you.”

Her words couldn’t be truer and Jong Kook felt the gaping wound in his heart bleed again. The image of Ji Hyo struggling against him, the true fear in her eyes – first of him then for him, the small body that curled up in a ball on his lap; everything flashed in front of Jong Kook’s eyes and he was so helpless. “Omma – my Omma, what do I do? What do I do now? It’s my fault,” he asked pitifully, shaking his head as if wanting to erase everything he had witnessed that day.

...

Ji Hyo fell asleep when they were still cuddling on the floor – exhaustion and the stress from the day caught up and took over her small body. Jong Kook didn’t have the heart to wake her up to move to a more comfortable place; he only pulled her closer so that she fully rested on his lap, her head tucked under his chin. He started to feel his back protesting for staying in such an uncomfortable position for so long but he numbed it willingly; Ji Hyo needed the rest and if he could provide her comfort in exchange of his own, then be it.

Only when the younger woman had fallen asleep did Jong Kook realise that Sun Mi was nowhere to be seen. She must have slipped away some time ago. The man sighed; what would the woman think of them now? Would she berate them for this? Would she point her finger accusingly at them like others did? Jong Kook faintly acknowledge that he truly didn’t care at that moment – they could think whatever they wanted for all his care, his concern now was only Ji Hyo.

Jong Kook used the silence to think about things but unconsciously he avoided thinking about what might really have happened to Ji Hyo. Going to that direction made his blood boil with fury – he wanted to break Chang Joo to pieces. Something bad must have happened; Ji Hyo was very defiant and she wasn’t someone who was easily subdued so there must have been something that broke her this badly. It scared him to think of what a man could do to a woman and Jong Kook simply didn’t want to go there.

He didn’t know when but he must also have drifted to slumber, for it was dim in the apartment when he woke up with a thin blanket draped over him. At first he was unaware of where he was, until he felt an unfamiliar weight on his chest, stopping his movement. A whiff of sweet scent reached his nostrils as he looked down to see Ji Hyo still fast asleep on top of him, an arm circled his waist and clutched the hem of his shirt as if afraid of being left behind.

He craned his neck when he heard a noise from the kitchen and saw the manager. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Did I wake you up?”

Jong Kook pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “What time is it?” His eyes widened when she told him it was a little past six in the evening. His immediate reaction was to stand up and leave but again, he remembered that he was serving as Ji Hyo’s pillow at the moment.

“It’s alright,” Sun Mi assured him knowingly. “She’s quite a heavy sleeper. You can move her without waking her up.”

“Oh,” Jong Kook acknowledged. He then shifted, cringing visibly when his stiff muscles contracted. When Sun Mi put her glass to move and help, Jong Kook shook his head. “I’ve got it, it’s alright,” he said.

Gently, the muscular man positioned Ji Hyo so that she was fully in his embrace; he hooked an arm under her knees and eased the deadweight up in a single breath. He walked slowly to her room, resisted the urge to look around – it would be improper, and tenderly put Ji Hyo on the mattress. She didn’t even shift during the whole process. He stepped back to let Sun Mi cover her with a blanket but not leaving the room.

He watched her sleep for a few seconds; revelling in how serene she looked when she was deep in slumber. He wished he could make her always look like this even when she was awake. Ji Hyo’s innocent face had never looked so beautiful.

Looking at Jong Kook’s practically gawking at Ji Hyo, Sun Mi couldn’t help but think how it would turn out if the two were really in a relationship – they looked so comfortable with each other; Ji Hyo cared a lot for Jong Kook and Sun Mi could see that Jong Kook felt the same; the way he was staring at the sleeping figure was full of adoration. The manager had an inkling that Jong Kook actually felt something more than brotherly love for her charge but was too ignorant – or afraid – to acknowledge it.

From his peripheral vision, he noticed that Sun Mi was looking at him and Jong Kook blushed as he realised that he had been staring at Ji Hyo. Clearing his throat, he quickly made his way out of the room. Sun Mi was on his heel, closing the door behind them.

“I...” he began hesitantly, glancing longingly at the closed door. “I really don’t want to leave her now but it would create another trouble if I stay. There were reporters when I came.”

“I’m sorry if they were bothering you,” Sun Mi said. “I’ve been trying to find a way to kick them out of the perimeter.”

“They’re out – apparently your land lord called the police; the cops were escorting them away when I came so they didn’t really see me,” Jong Kook told her, grinning triumphantly. “But I still have to go.”

The manager nodded understandingly. Suddenly she bowed deep in front of Jong Kook, thanking him for coming and being there for her Ji Hyo. Jong Kook had the courtesy to blush and bowed back – he apologised for dragging Ji Hyo into the hell-hole and after a pause he added that he was going to set things right for her, that he wasn’t leaving her no matter what.

When Jong Kook had left, Sun Mi pondered on his last words and thought if it didn’t sound a little bit like a love confession.

...

Jong Kook ended up telling his mother everything – from the moment he first learned about Ji Hyo’s breakup until the moment he left her apartment just now. The woman had said not a single word as he poured his heart out, knowing that this was one of Jong Kook’s ways to sort things out. She noticed that he kept on repeating about how he regretted not coming earlier to stop her ex-boyfriend from hurting him and about how lost he was now.

The older Kim woman had lived long enough to understand heartache and she could read between the lines – what Jong Kook didn’t say screamed louder than what he said. She sighed audibly. “Jong Kook-ah,” she began after Jong Kook finally stopped talking. “You’ve been spending a lot of time telling me about regretting this and that, yet I didn’t hear you mention anything about taking her for ice cream. Did you regret that too? It was what started this all, anyway.”

Jong Kook went agape. He had never thought about that and his mother’s words made him realise it. Now that the topic was brought up Jong Kook realised that he never actually regretted that one, the source of all this. “I don’t,” he answered truthfully much to his own surprise, “I may regret the outcome, Omma, but I never regretted trying to be a good friend for her. I’d do it again if I could turn back the time.”

The answer made the woman smile, an enigmatic smile at the corners of that made Jong Kook feel that she knew something that he didn’t know.

“Omma, what do I do now?”

The older woman patted him on the hand again. “What does your heart tell you?”

He answered without blinking, “To stay – it wants me to stay because she needs me.” And because I need her, a small part of him said but Jong Kook ignored it.

“There is your answer, Jong Kook-ah.”

“How can I stay if I am a nobody for her? Omma, I messed things up badly enough for her already. It will open a whole new can of worms if I am to stay. There are consequences – Gap Jin Hyung told me over and over but I guess I only understand this now. I can’t be with her. Unless–..” he didn’t continue what he was saying. He looked at his mother questioningly, silently asking if she knew what he was going to say.

“Unless you were her boyfriend,” she finished for him. “Is that what you wanted to say, Kim Jong Kook?”

He froze before bowing his head, nodding resignedly. “Yes, Omma.”

“Then you have my consent, child.”

“But Omma – I don’t have any feelings for her. Not in that way,” Jong Kook protested. He knew that he loved her enough as a sister, platonically. It never occurred to him that he had other feelings for the younger woman – even as he said it out loud now he couldn’t think of Ji Hyo that way.

The grey-haired woman smiled again. “Who said you have to really be her lover? You can be slow sometimes, Jong Kook,” she said. “Let media speak – you don’t have to confirm nor deny.”

“Omma, you want me to pretend to be her boyfriend?” he asked in disbelief. His mother – his own mother who always stood by her traditional values – suggested that he lied?

She shrugged. “I don’t want you to do anything,” she admitted. “If it were up to me, Jong Kook-ah, I don’t even want you to grow up and face all this hardship; if it were up to me, I’d wrap you and your brother around my fingers forever so there would be no harm befalls you. But it isn’t up to me, is it? You do what your heart tells you to do, child.”

Jong Kook didn’t say anything. He was at a loss of words on hearing what his mother had to say. She left him in the living room to think, telling him to lock the door behind him if he decided to leave for Anyang that night.

It was long past midnight when Jong Kook arrived in his apartment, his mind already half made up. He would do whatever it took to protect Ji Hyo from the pathetic excuse of a bastard that was Baek Chang Joo.

The problem in hand now was: how was he going to convince Ji Hyo to trust him, to rely on him when her heart was too broken to believe? What could he do to make her believe that he would protect her when she was too busy pushing him away to protect him?

Jong Kook drifted into a restless sleep with Ji Hyo in his thought that night and when Gap Jin woke him up the next morning by a gentle shake on his shoulder, he noticed absently that Ji Hyo still lingered in his mind, consuming his every thought and spinning his world around.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter is a little bit technical but I feel that it is a much needed chapter to explain some loose ends. I suppose you can now guess where I am going, no? Tell me what you think :)

Anyway, I did reread this chapter before posting but there may be some mistakes because I'm having a fever now but too restless to go to sleep. I still hope you understand this chapter and I hope the flashback didn't stop the continuation whatsoever - I can delete it if you think it's confusing.