As Micha lay in her bed, the room bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through the curtains, sleep felt just out of reach. Her mind began to drift, drawn back into the corridors of her memories.
Her thoughts wandered to the past, to a time that shaped her strength and resilience—her early days in the boxing gym with her father.
It had been years ago, yet the memories felt as vivid as if they had happened just yesterday. She could still picture the look of determination on her father's face as they stood side by side in the gym center, surrounded by the hum of activity and the faint scent of leather gloves and sweat.
Her father had always been her quiet source of inspiration, a man of few words but immense wisdom. He had guided her into boxing not just as a sport, but as a way to protect herself, a way to carry herself with confidence in an unpredictable world.
The first day in the gym had been exhilarating and overwhelming. Micha remembered the weight of the gloves on her hands, the unfamiliar tension in her muscles as she mimicked her father's movements. She wanted to impress him, to show him that she was strong, but it wasn't long before the challenge of it all became real.
Her hands—unused to the harshness of the gloves and the repetitive impact against the bag—began to blister and peel. By the end of that day, the skin on her knuckles had broken open, revealing raw patches that stung with every movement. The pain had been sharper than she had expected, the sight of her hands red and swollen enough to make her wonder if she could keep going.
But then her father had stepped in, his presence like a steady anchor in the storm of her discomfort. He had gently taken her hands in his, inspecting the damage with a knowing look in his eyes. Instead of telling her to stop, he had smiled—a quiet, proud smile—and reminded her that nothing worth doing was ever easy. He had always believed in her, even on the days when she doubted herself the most.
"Pain is temporary, Micha," he had said, his voice calm and reassuring. "But the strength you gain from pushing through it will last forever. You'll heal, and you'll come back stronger. I know you will."
Those words had stayed with her, even after all these years. At the time, they were a lifeline, pulling her through the discomfort and frustration of her first few weeks in the gym. Her hands had taken time to heal, the blisters slowly turning into calluses, each layer of toughness earned through perseverance. And as the pain subsided, she found herself growing more confident, more at ease with the movements of boxing.
With every punch she landed, with every drop of sweat that fell, Micha could feel herself becoming more attuned to her own power. She learned to harness her strength, to control it, and with that control came a sense of security she had never known before. Boxing wasn't just about fighting—it was about discipline, about knowing she could protect herself if the need ever arose.
Her father had watched her transformation with quiet pride, always by her side but never pushing her beyond what she could handle. He believed in teaching her to be strong, not just physically but mentally. Every time she stepped into the gym, she was reminded of his unwavering support, of the lessons he had instilled in her.
As she thought back to those days, Micha smiled softly to herself, her heart swelling with gratitude. Her father had given her the tools to face the world with confidence, to stand tall in the face of adversity. The strength she carried now wasn't just from the hours spent in the gym, but from the love and guidance he had offered her along the way.
Lying there in the quiet of her room, Micha realized just how much those early lessons in self-defense had shaped her. She had become stronger, both inside and out, not just because of the physical training, but because she knew she had people in her life who believed in her unconditionally. Her father's faith in her had planted the seeds of resilience, and over time, those seeds had grown into an unshakeable sense of self.
With that comforting thought, Micha's eyes grew heavy. The memories, once vivid, began to blur as sleep slowly pulled her in. As she drifted off, her heart was filled with a deep sense of peace, knowing that no matter what challenges the future held, she was ready to face them—stronger, wiser, and forever grateful for the lessons her father had taught her.
The morning light filtered gently through the curtains as Micha woke, going through her usual routine. It felt like an ordinary day, yet there was a subtle weight in the air, a quiet sadness that lingered as the days passed, bringing her closer to the moment her family would move to the mansion.
The thought of their absence filled her with a bittersweet ache. Tomorrow, her mom, dad, grandparents, and little brother So Eun Min would leave for the family mansion, a place rich with memories and legacy. Though it wasn't far, the idea of being without them, even for a little while, left Micha feeling a pang of loneliness.
The day passed in a blur of shared laughter and moments she wished she could freeze in time. Her father, always the strong yet gentle figure in her life, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as they sat together, enjoying the cool breeze that drifted through their home.
"My sweet daughter," he said with a loving smile, his voice steady and filled with warmth, "if you ever feel like you're not happy here, you are always welcome at the mansion. You don't have to face anything alone."
Micha smiled back, her heart full yet heavy. "Dad," she replied softly, "I'll be there soon, I promise. As soon as my work is finished, I'll come to you all. I'm going to miss you so much, but I know this is what's best for the family right now."
Her father nodded, giving her a look that said he understood more than words could express.
Throughout the day, her family showered her with advice and gentle reminders, each word woven with love. Her mother, the nurturing heart of the family, urged her to take care of herself, while her grandparents, full of wisdom and experience, reminded her of the strength that ran in her veins, a strength passed down through generations.
Then there was her little brother, So Eun Min. Micha knelt beside him, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead as she spoke with the affectionate authority of an older sister. "So Eun, promise me you'll study hard, okay? And always listen to mom and dad. If you need anything, anything at all, just call me, okay, bro?" Her brother nodded, his wide eyes full of innocence and the bond they shared. "I'll miss you, Micha," he said softly, his small voice tugging at her heartstrings.
Dinner that evening was one of celebration, but beneath the joy was a quiet understanding that soon things would change. They feasted on their favorite meals, shared stories and memories, and laughed until their sides hurt. It wasn't the food or the drinks that filled the room with warmth—it was the presence of those she loved most in the world. The knowledge that tonight, they were all together, as they had been for so many years, made every moment precious.
As the night drew to a close, no one wanted it to end. They made the spontaneous decision to sleep all together, just as they had when Micha was a child. They gathered in one large room, pulling blankets and bedsheets together to form a makeshift bed that seemed to stretch endlessly. Micha lay in the middle, surrounded by her family, their comforting presence like a cocoon around her.
Her father's soft breathing, her mother's familiar scent, the steady presence of her grandparents, and the light snores of her little brother filled her with a deep sense of peace. Micha whispered into the quiet night, her voice filled with emotion, "I'm going to miss your presence so much, my dear family. You mean everything to me."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she thought about how different it would feel once they were gone, but she also felt an overwhelming gratitude for the love they had always shown her. She knew they weren't leaving her forever—they were simply moving to a new chapter, just as she was. And no matter where they were, they would always be her family, always connected by the invisible threads of love that tied them together.
As Micha's eyes began to grow heavy, she smiled to herself, a quiet contentment settling over her heart. Her family's voices echoed softly in her ears, their laughter still lingering in the room. It was in moments like these that Micha realized how deeply she was loved, how their presence would never truly leave her, even when distance separated them.
With that comforting thought, Micha drifted into sleep, surrounded by the warmth of those who meant everything to her. In that peaceful slumber, she knew that no matter what the future held, she would carry this night with her—a memory to hold close to her heart forever.