Wrapped in a soft white sheet, the earth peeks upward — watching the sky shower white blossoms from above.
Snow.
Falling gently.
Layering the ground again with a delicate blanket.
Winter arrives, bringing snowfall with it.
They say that's when beauty blooms.
Moments become memories — building snowmen, throwing snowballs at each other, laughter echoing down narrow alleys, and smiles that aren't just stitched across lips, but shining clearly through sparkling eyes.
"Oh! Got you!"
"No, not at all! You missed!"
Laughter fills the air.
"You're not escaping now!"
"Oh, Papa—aaa ha ha!" Ijueng runs, giggling.
Thud.
Ijueng slips and falls.
"Oh shoot!" Hyeon rushes over and held him up.
Tears gather in Ijueng's wide eyes, big and glassy.
"I won!" Hyeon grins, teasing.
"That was cheating!" Ijueng sniffles.
"Fried fish is ready, honey!"
A voice calls from the nearby cottage.
"I'm not giving you my fish!"
"But you lost!"
"I'm still not giving it. I'll tell Mama I fell!"
"No, you won't. If you do, Mama will scold Papa.
Then Papa will cry.
Would you like that?"
"…No," Ijueng says softly, lips pouting.
"We're here, Honey!"
"Oh, my sweet Iju."
Nala kisses Ijueng's head with tenderness.
Ijueng stares at the fish on his plate. Just then, another piece is placed beside it.
"Uhh…"
Hyeon smiles, sheepishly. "I cheated. So I lost."
Nala smiles.
It's these little things—his quiet care, the way he always thought of others—that made her fall for him.
His love for Ijueng… something she sometimes felt was even greater than hers.
She places another piece of fish on the table and serves more onto Hyeon's plate.
Hyeon just smiles.
Ijueng was the gentle bond they shared.
The love they lived through him.
And Ijueng knew it.
He wasn't unaware.
He knew they did everything to make sure he wouldn't cry,
To give him every little joy.
His mother's glowing smile was his world.
Her happiness, his peace.
Like Lightning flashes across the sky.
And just like that… that peace vanished.
How did everything change in one night?
Why did his father stop looking at him?
Why did his mother start hiding him from the world?
Why?
Was there no path to return to that time?
To live those days again?
He didn't want to be like an orphan anymore.
When Ijueng opened his eyes,
the sleeping face in front of him reminded him of his mother's charm.
As if everything that had happened was just a bad dream.
As if he could curl up in her lap again, safe and warm.
He gently placed his small hand over Gyu's and whispered,
"Eomma… I miss you."
He whispered as he drifted back to sleep, wrapped in the illusion of warmth he once had.
"Eomma?"
Gyu let out a tired laugh.
"This kid really needs to be taken home."
"But my work! Ugh…"
"I'll deal with it tomorrow."
He tried lifting his arm.
But it felt too heavy. Ijueng had fallen asleep on him.
"…Can't move him." Gyu sighed, surrendering to the moment.
"I'll look for his home after school."
With that, Gyu closed his eyes again.