Small gesture for Minjae

Jihoon stood outside campus gates after his session ended, his breath misting in the cool afternoon air. He kept scanning the rows of cars, searching for Minjae's sleek black vehicle. When a luxury sedan finally pulled up, he brightened—only to falter when the window rolled down and a middle-aged man in a formal suit greeted him.

"Mr. Jihoon, I'm from Mr. Minjae's office," the driver said politely. "He had an urgent meeting, so I'll be driving you back to his residence."

Jihoon's excitement dimmed slightly but he nodded, sliding into the backseat. As the car sped through the city streets, Jihoon stared out the window, his thoughts drifting to Minjae. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he wasn't contributing to their relationship. Minjae was always doing something for him—taking care of his needs, protecting him, ensuring his comfort. But what had Jihoon done in return?

By the time the driver dropped him off at Minjae's lavish home, Jihoon's resolve had solidified. I should do something for him.

Something small, but meaningful.

The house was quiet when he entered. Jihoon set his bag down, glanced around, and quickly made up his mind. "Dinner " he murmured. "I'll cook dinner for him."

Heading to his room, Jihoon took a quick shower, his mind racing through the steps. He changed into a casual shirt and sweatpants, then padded into the large, gleaming kitchen. Opening the fridge, he was greeted by an abundance of fresh ingredients. Jihoon's enthusiasm faltered.

"This is great… but…" He picked up a zucchini, turning it over in his hand like it was an alien artifact. "I don't even know how to cook."

He groaned, slumping against the counter. "What am I doing? Minjae does all these amazing things for me, and I can't even make a proper meal. I'm so pathetic."

Despite his self-deprecating thoughts, Jihoon's determination wouldn't let him give up. He opened cabinets and drawers, searching for a cookbook or anything that could guide him. Instead, he found a tablet tucked away, its screen lighting up to reveal a search history full of recipes.

Jihoon's lips quirked into a smile. "Of course Minjae would have something like this."

Selecting a simple recipe for Korean stew, Jihoon laid out the ingredients and began following the steps. It wasn't long before chaos erupted in the kitchen—vegetables chopped unevenly, broth bubbling too aggressively, and more than one accidental spill.

Still, Jihoon persevered.

By the time Minjae returned home,he let out a gentle call "My sweet Jihoon, I'm home...."

Jihoon was standing in the kitchen, sweat beading his brow, surrounded by a battlefield of pots, pans, and half-prepped ingredients.

Minjae stepped inside, his tie loosened and exhaustion evident on his face. He froze when he saw Jihoon. "What… happened here?"

Jihoon turned, holding up a wooden spoon triumphantly. "I'm cooking dinner!"

Minjae blinked, his tired expression softening into amusement. "Is that what this is?"

"Don't laugh," Jihoon pouted, waving the spoon at him. "I wanted to do something nice for you since you're always taking care of me. So just… sit down, okay?"

Minjae chuckled, walking over to ruffle Jihoon's hair. "Alright, chef. I'll wait patiently."

Jihoon's cheeks flushed, and as Minjae retreated to the dining table, he turned back to his task with renewed determination.

The meal wasn't perfect—slightly overcooked rice and broth a little too salty—but when Minjae tasted it, he smiled warmly.

"It's good" he said, his tone genuine.

Jihoon stared at him, suspicious. "You're not just saying that?"

Minjae shook his head. "I mean it. Knowing you did this for me makes it the best meal I've had in a while."

Jihoon's heart swelled at the praise, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was finally giving something back to Minjae.

As Jihoon finally sat across from Minjae at the dining table, he picked up his spoon and cautiously took a bite of the stew he'd spent the last hour laboring over. The moment the flavors hit his tongue, his face twisted, and he immediately spit it out into his napkin.

"Oh my God, it's awful!" Jihoon exclaimed, clutching his mouth as if he'd just consumed poison.

Minjae, already halfway through his bowl, let out a hearty laugh that echoed through the dining room. "Awful? You're being dramatic."

Jihoon stared at him in disbelief. "Are you seriously eating that like it's fine?"

Minjae grinned, taking another generous spoonful. "It's not bad. A little salty, maybe, but I've had worse."

"Worse than this?" Jihoon asked, skeptical.

"I've been in some rough places, Jihoon" Minjae teased, leaning back in his chair. "Trust me, this is practically gourmet compared to what I've eaten before."

Jihoon slumped in his seat, poking at the food with his spoon. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better."

Minjae leaned forward, his tone softening. "I'm not lying. I really appreciate the effort. No one's ever cooked for me like this."

Jihoon glanced up at him, his cheeks flushing. "Really?"

"Really." Minjae gave him a warm smile, then added with a smirk, "Although, maybe next time, we can cook together. That way, we both survive the meal."

As Jihoon slowly pushed his plate aside, his curiosity got the better of him. "So, what was your urgent meeting about? You barely mentioned it."

Minjae set his spoon down and leaned back in his chair, looking at Jihoon with a faint smile. "Just an interview for one of those online platforms. They wanted me to share my 'journey.'" He made air quotes with his fingers, a touch of sarcasm in his tone.

Jihoon raised an eyebrow. "Your journey? Like, your story of starting from the streets and becoming a successful manager?"

"Pretty much." Minjae shrugged. "Apparently, people find it inspiring. Some rags-to-riches stuff, you know?"

"Well… isn't it? I mean, you've achieved a lot," Jihoon said, his tone admiring. "It's not something just anyone can do."

Minjae chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe, but I'm not exactly thrilled about the fame that comes with it. It's one thing to build a life, but when strangers start prying into that life, it gets uncomfortable."

Jihoon tilted his head. "Is that why you didn't want to talk about it earlier?"

Minjae nodded. "Yeah. I don't mind telling my story when it's on my terms, but interviews make it feel… public. Like I'm giving away pieces of myself to people who don't actually care."

"That's rough," Jihoon said sympathetically. "I can see why you'd feel that way. But I think people look up to you for a reason. You're proof that no matter where you start, you can still make something of yourself."

Minjae smiled softly, his eyes meeting Jihoon's. "Maybe, but I'd trade all the recognition in the world for some peace and quiet."

Jihoon chuckled, reaching for his glass of water. "Guess I'll have to keep my fame away from you, then."

Minjae smirked, teasing, "Oh, please. Your modeling career just started, and you're already talking about fame?"

Jihoon blushed, throwing his napkin at Minjae, who dodged it with a laugh. Despite the teasing, he could see the warmth in Minjae's eyes, a reminder that no matter what challenges came, they'd face them together.

As the playful atmosphere settled, Jihoon's expression shifted to one of regret. He lowered his gaze, fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. "Minjae… I need to say something."

Minjae raised an eyebrow, sensing the sudden change in tone. "What is it?"

"I… I'm sorry. For everything." Jihoon's voice trembled slightly. "For how you ended up in the streets. For how Dad cast you out. I know it was his angry words that pushed you away, but I…" He hesitated, his voice cracking. "I didn't chase after you. I should have. And by the time you were gone, it was too late."

Minjae sat still, his jaw tightening as Jihoon continued.

"After you left, things weren't the same," Jihoon said, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "Mom and I… we were worried sick. Even Dad. He… he regretted everything. He never said it out loud, but we could tell. It ate away at him. That's when he had his first stroke. He was lying in that hospital bed, and all I could think about was how we let you down."

The words hung in the air like a heavy cloud. Minjae stared at his untouched plate, his throat dry. Slowly, he placed his utensils down, his voice quiet yet steady. "Jihoon… it wasn't your fault."

"But it was!" Jihoon argued, his eyes glistening. "If I had just done something—if I had stood up to Dad or gone after you—maybe things would've been different."

Minjae shook his head, his lips pressed into a thin line. "No, Jihoon. You were just a kid. You couldn't have changed anything." He exhaled sharply, his gaze distant. "If anything, it was my fault. I wasn't paying attention in school. I was always goofing around, making stupid decisions. Dad had every right to be mad at me."

Jihoon's voice softened, filled with disbelief. "You can't seriously think that. You were just trying to figure things out, like anyone your age would. Dad was too harsh."

"Maybe-" Minjae admitted, his voice heavy. "But that doesn't change the fact that I messed up. I could've done better—been better." He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "And instead of facing my mistakes, I ran away. That's on me, Jihoon. Not you."

Silence filled the room as the brothers sat in their shared guilt and pain. Finally, Jihoon reached out, his hand covering Minjae's on the table. "You've already made up for everything, Minjae. Look at what you've built. And even if Dad isn't here to see it, I know he'd be proud of you. We all are."

Minjae's shoulders slumped as he let out a shaky breath. "I don't know if I'll ever forgive myself, Jihoon. But… hearing that helps."

Jihoon gave a small, bittersweet smile. "That's a start."