The Change

The weekend morning light poured through the large windows of the Shin Mansion, casting soft rays on the wooden floors. The house was quieter than it used to be—no bustling laughter or playful arguments. The faint sound of a distant clock ticking was the only reminder of time moving forward.

In one of the many bedrooms, Hana lay sound asleep, tucked beneath a thick blanket, her peaceful expression the only sign of the innocence she still clung to in the midst of everything that had happened. She was always a sound sleeper, and today, she was completely lost in her dreams.

Downstairs, Saejoon moved quietly through the mansion, a gentle breeze from the open window ruffling the edges of the curtains. The maids had already begun their work, preparing for the day, but Saejoon had a different task ahead of him.

Today was another one of those mornings when he made sure everything was just right for Hana. He knew what she liked—how she preferred her tea, the books she always wanted to read, the little things that made her feel safe. But it wasn't just about those details. It was about the weight of responsibility he had taken on for her, and for himself.

As he moved from room to room, gathering Hana's things for the day, a deep quiet seemed to settle over him. His mind wandered, as it often did, but today was different. He couldn't help but think of the past—the way things used to be. The way he used to be.

He remembered the old days, when Hana and he would joke around, and their house was filled with laughter. He had been a different person back then—much different. Fat, they used to call him. Lazy. Irresponsible. A complete contrast to the man he had become.

Before the accident, Saejoon had been the one who lived for the thrills—the playful, mischievous brother who was always up to something. Hana used to roll her eyes at him, chasing him around the house, calling him "the big teddy bear" because of his round cheeks and soft build. He had indulged in his love for video games and anime, and had given in to the carefree, reckless lifestyle of a rich, spoiled heir. It was his identity, and, in his mind, it was all he needed.

But now, as he moved through the grand halls of the mansion, the reality of his transformation was undeniable. His once round figure, the one that had earned him teasing and playful jabs from family, had melted away into a lithe, handsome man with sharp features and intense eyes. His shoulders were broader, his posture more confident. But the change didn't just reflect on the outside. It ran deeper. It ran through his every movement, his every choice.

He could feel it when he looked in the mirror, when he caught glimpses of his reflection in the dark windows of the mansion. He was no longer the playful, carefree teenager who spent his days chasing after things he thought mattered. No, he had become someone different. Someone serious, responsible, burdened with the weight of a life he had never asked for. Someone who had learned to shut out the distractions and focus on what was important: Hana.

Hana, on the other hand, had noticed the change too. He knew that. He'd seen the way her eyes followed him sometimes, her soft gaze full of quiet understanding, but also a hint of something more—a curiosity that she never voiced, but he knew was there. She saw the way he had changed, how his once carefree attitude had been replaced with a solemn, almost stoic demeanor.

And, though Hana didn't speak much about it, he could tell she was processing it in her own way. He had been her big brother—the one who was always by her side. But now, as he worked to get her things ready for the day, he felt the shift in their dynamic. He wasn't just her big brother anymore. He was the guardian, the protector. The man who had to take care of her.

He had noticed her gaze often drifting to him, lingering a little longer than usual, perhaps thinking about the man he used to be—before the accident, before everything had changed. Hana probably couldn't understand the reasons behind his transformation. She was still too young to fully grasp the complexities of what he had been through.

As Saejoon carefully placed the last of Hana's things in the basket, he thought about her earlier question—about how he'd become so "small" lately, looking so different from the Saejoon she once knew. He had simply smiled, telling her it was because he was healthier now, but deep down, he knew she saw more than that. She could feel the difference in him, the change in the way he carried himself, the seriousness in his eyes.

Hana was wise for her age, but he knew there were things she couldn't understand. The trauma, the pain of loss, the loneliness that sometimes consumed him at night when she was asleep. She couldn't see the battles he fought every day to stay strong—for her, for the family legacy, for the company. She couldn't know how hard he had to push himself to walk again, to become a man who could lead the Shin Group.

But despite the unspoken complexity of it all, one thing was clear: Hana was his reason to keep going. She was the light in the darkness that had once threatened to consume him entirely. And though she might not understand the weight he carried, she didn't have to.

Saejoon walked quietly into Hana's room to check on her, watching as she slept peacefully, the weight of the world nowhere to be found on her small face. He knelt beside her bed, brushing a few stray hairs from her forehead, a quiet promise in his heart.

I'll always be here, Hana. No matter what.

And as he stood up to prepare for the day ahead, he couldn't help but wonder if, one day, she would understand the full extent of what he had done—what he had become—just for her. But for now, he was content knowing that, at least for today, she was happy.

He quietly left the room, the door closing softly behind him as he began his day, just like every other.