Chapter 4

Nthe o one relished the thought of having a family member meddling in their personal affairs, a sentiment shared by many. However, Woo-San found himself in a different predicament. Though he approached Yui-Hyuk with a cautious demeanor, he couldn't help but appreciate the genuine concern and curiosity that Yui-Hyuk often displayed. This engagement provided a welcome distraction during those infrequent moments of tedium in Woo-San's life. Ironically, such moments were rare, as Yui-Hyuk always seemed to have some outrageous thought or scheme on his mind, a characteristic that resonated strongly within their family, particularly with his grandchildren, Yixan included.

"I will move in here on one condition," Yixan declared with a playful grin, her mouth full of the first batch of Yeon-Jun's exquisite macarons, which melted delightfully on her tongue. "If you allow me to use the kitchen for my channel and also the coffee master."

Yixan, with her vibrant and chaotic energy, was the creator of a popular children's baking channel in addition to a toy review show. She had a knack for simplifying complex recipes that she had perfected under Yeon-Jun's careful guidance, making them accessible to her young audience. Her channel had seen tremendous growth, especially after her heartwarming visits to schools for children with special needs alongside Yeon-Jun. Baking alongside someone with a disability encouraged the kids to express themselves more freely, creating a bond that not only enriched their experience but also significantly boosted Yixan's channel and the reputation of Strawberry Hanok in the community.

Despite the circumstances, Yeon-Jun made a conscious decision to forgo any benefits associated with his disability. He resolutely distanced himself from Yixan's channel, believing it would compromise his integrity. This choice, however, sparked a heated argument between the two, reminding both of the underlying tensions that had kept Yixan from moving in with them in the first place.

When Yixan refused to let go even after so long, Yeon-Jun ultimately gave up, but only under his own terms. "Fine," Yeon-Jun signed, putting his finger over Yixan's mouth before she could spring up in delight. "However, you will not utilize me as a feature. I'll teach you the recipes and occasionally greet the kids, but only when they ask for me. Do not promote me; if you do, I will push you out. Also, if you ever attempt to use my station without my permission, I will boot you out."

"That's it! Record this, Sung-Hoon. I won't allow him to backtrack on his promise," Yixan declared, her tone firm and unyielding. In that moment, she demonstrated the negotiating prowess inherited from her grandfather, Yui-Hyuk. Her ability to sway emotions and find common ground was undeniable, but it was a skill that often seemed ineffective in the unforgiving landscape of corporate transactions.

The rich, lingering aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped the air of the quaint cafe, persisting long after the doors had been secured for the night and the surfaces scrubbed to a gleaming finish. Yeon-Jun, despite proudly co-owning the establishment and serving as its head barista, found little joy in the intoxicating scent that permeated the space. In stark contrast to the caffeinated creations that danced before his eyes, he harbored a quiet preference for the understated simplicity of tea. The ritual of tea required just boiling water to transform dried leaves into a soothing infusion, providing him with a sense of refreshing clarity that coffee's complex blends failed to deliver. The notion that patrons would willingly spend exorbitant amounts for elaborate concoctions of milk and caffeine—artfully layered but often cloying to his palate—perplexed him to no end. For Yeon-Jun, the strong, bitter notes of coffee triggered bitter-sweet memories of fishing trips with his father, an activity he had come to resent even more than the coffee itself.

Every tenth day of odd months marked a cherished tradition for Sung-Hoon, who dutifully honored the memory of his father by embarking on fishing excursions, a pastime his father had revered deeply. At first, he ventured out alone, wrestling with the bittersweet specter of their shared moments on the water. However, determined to keep his father's spirit alive—while warding off the heavier shroud of grief—he extended an invitation to Yeon-Jun to join him on the last three trips. Each time, Yeon-Jun politely declined, referring him to offer assistance from Yeon-Su, who eagerly accepted the opportunity to accompany him on these journeys.

In the early days of their cafe, Sung-Hoon grappled with the idea of closing the shop for an entire day, particularly during bustling weeks when customers flocked to their counter. Recognizing his partner's need for a brief respite, Yeon-Jun devised a thoughtful arrangement: in exchange for permitting Sung-Hoon to indulge in his monthly fishing tradition, he too would receive a day off to recharge his weary spirit. Their partnership was built upon a foundation of mutual support; each understood the weight of the other's burdens, willingly setting aside their own concerns to embrace the solace of shared memories and the ephemeral joy found in fleeting moments of camaraderie.

Their relationship, however, extended far beyond mere business transactions. Despite the fact that they were adopted brothers, their relationship was meticulously professional, contributing significantly to the success of their cafe. They both recognized that emotional entanglements could jeopardize their operational efficiency, so they mutually agreed to maintain a clear distinction between their professional obligations and personal feelings.

This resolve, however, had inadvertently led to a growing chasm between them that contrasted sharply with the close-knit bond they shared in childhood. The tragic loss of their father three years prior had marked a turning point, transforming their relationship from one grounded in brotherhood to something more distant. Although their affection for each other remained intact, it had evolved from the deep familial love of siblings to a more platonic, yet still profound, friendship. There lingered an unspoken potential for something deeper, but both were acutely aware that societal norms deemed such a transformation unrealistic. Ignoring the underlying complexities of their feelings only served to complicate the dynamics between them as they continued on their uncertain path forward.

"Why do I have to leave you?" Sung-Hoon cried out, cradled in Yeon-Jun's arms like an anxious child. His voice mingled with the sharp honks of the car horn, which reverberated insistently through the air. Yeon-Su and Yixan, feeling the weight of the moment, watched awkwardly as he nuzzled deeper into Yeon-Jun's embrace as if he were embarking on a perilous journey and leaving behind his beloved. The impatient driver, none other than Joong-Ho, Yixan's manager, tapped his fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel.

With a dramatic pout, Sung-Hoon reluctantly relinquished his position in Yeon-Jun's arms. Yixan quickly ushered him into the car, prompting Joong-Ho to step on the gas before Sung-Hoon could lean out the window and begin a heartfelt chant of Yeon-Jun's name—a gesture he had unfortunately made a habit of in the past.

"I really hate that you have to rise at 5 AM to manage them, especially on a Sunday," Yixan murmured, her voice tinged with sympathy as they strolled toward the nearby bus station with Yeon-Jun. "At least it's Sunday. Hopefully, the day will be a bit smoother, and you won't have to deal with as many customers on your own." She tried to offer her encouragement, but Yeon-Jun's experience had equipped him for far more daunting challenges than this one.

"It's alright," Yeon-Jun signed, a profound smile spreading across his face, revealing the warmth of his spirit. "At least I don't have to juggle two toddlers all by myself today." Indeed, managing the bustling cafe alone for a single day felt far less chaotic than cradling Sung-Hoon while also trying to mentor Yeon-Su. The contrast was a welcome relief.

"How is the search for a part-timer going?" Yixan inquired, remembering that Yeon-Jun had been considering promoting Yeon-Su. It had already been a year since the young man joined their team; they were well overdue for a new addition to help share the workload.

As daunting as the prospect may seem, both Yeon-Jun and Sung-Hoon had adeptly managed the cafe on their own. Their resilience shone brightly, especially after their popularity surged thanks to Yixan's enthusiastic support. Yeon-Jun had only brought on Yeon-Su when his own health took a turn, landing him in the hospital. Though the absence of Yeon-Jun was palpable, Yixan stepped in to help, and as days turned into weeks, Yeon-Su also found his footing and began managing well with the spirited Sung-Hoon. By the time Yeon-Jun returned to his rightful place, Yeon-Su had matured considerably in his role, showcasing a keen aptitude that warranted both recognition and a promotion.

"It's progressing," Yeon-Jun signed, his brow furrowing slightly as he pondered the logistics. "But I have my doubts about putting up posters. You know how challenging it can be to draw in competent people. It's better to scout someone we trust, someone like we did with Yeon-Su, rather than wade through countless applications, many of which lack potential." He sighed deeply, taking a seat on the familiar bench alongside Yixan, their conversation punctuated by the soft chatter of patrons around them.

"I'll keep my eyes peeled too," Yixan remarked with a hopeful twinkle in her eye. "I really hope we find someone capable soon." She was about to elaborate further when, without warning, the bus pulled up at the stop. With a cheerful wave, she stepped onto the bus, leaving Yeon-Jun behind, yet not alone in thought.

"One is blind, and the other is hopeless," Yixan mused quietly as the bus departed, its engine rumbling to life and carrying her away. Yixan saw Yeon-Jun standing at the deserted bus station as the bus moved away. She got lost in contemplation about what could have been the situation if fate had placed Yeon-Jun and Sung-Hoon together in different circumstances. How different their lives might have turned out. And how different their feelings towards each other might've been.

A voice crackled over the cafe's speakers: "Due to an accident, the road will be..." Yeon-Jun caught the tail end of the news report about a recent incident on the road leading to the cafe. The clock on the wall showed it was already 5 PM, and with the anticipated drop in foot traffic due to a mishap nearby, he made the decision to close the shop early. A deep clean of the kitchen would serve as an ideal way to utilize the unexpected free time. He strolled over to the front door, flipping the closed sign with a sigh of relief, only to catch a flicker of movement from the corner of his eye.

"Meow..." A timid yet inquisitive cat stood by the door, its fur resembling a patchwork quilt woven from shades of orange and white. It was unusual to see a cat wandering around the cafe premises. Curiously, Yeon-Jun couldn't resist the urge to kneel down and coax the feline closer. To his delight, the cat approached without hesitation, nuzzling against his hand, revealing its friendly disposition. In his moment of distraction, he had forgotten to lock the front doors, but that felt like a minor oversight in exchange for this unexpected companionship.

After a few moments of petting and offering a few tidbits of a treat, he decided to guide the cat to safety through the back door, ensuring the little creature wouldn't get lost in the bustling streets outside. With the cat happily fed and on its way, Yeon-Jun returned to the cafe, switching off the muted television and soft music that had gently filled the space. He rolled up his sleeves, mentally preparing himself as he headed into the kitchen, ready to tackle the mess that awaited him.

"Strawberry Hanok," Woo-San muttered under his breath, furrowing his brow as he studied the map intently, trying to pinpoint the location of the cafe. He remembered Hee-Jun raving about it's taste, but also the fact that Yixan goes there whenever she's drunk. Fortunately, Woo-San realized he had disembarked at the right stop, just a short stroll away from his destination. He had long planned to experience the café himself, intrigued by its reputation and the stories surrounding it. Most of all, he wanted to discover the nature of the people that owned the cafe, supposedly the ones that took care of Yixan.

One detail about the café that had particularly struck him was the intriguing background of Yeon-Jun and Sung-Hoon. Woo-San recalled Hee-Jun's briefing on the owners—how the head barista suffered from selective mutism, a condition stemming from past trauma. How he had been adopted by Sung-Hoon's father, who had sought to provide him with a loving home. After the man passed away, all of his life savings, insurance payout, and proceeds from selling his house were invested in acquiring a modest commercial apartment building in the bustling heart of Seoul. These details clung in Woo-San's mind.

As he walked along the unusually quiet street, Woo-San's anticipation heightened until he finally caught sight of it—the café's whimsical pink sign adorned with an adorable strawberry logo, radiating warmth and charm. A smile broke across his face, but that joy quickly dissipated when he noticed the dreaded "Closed" sign hanging from the door. Disappointment washed over him, but he felt an irresistible pull to meet the owner, believing it would offer him insights into their true intentions with Yixan.

Determined not to leave without a glimpse inside, Woo-San approached the door and turned the handle, surprised to find it unlocked. In that fleeting moment, he felt an exhilarating rush of luck and serendipity. Unbeknownst to him, this seemingly insignificant discovery would set off a chain of events, irrevocably altering the course of his life.