The warm spring breeze carried the scent of cherry blossoms through the sprawling Shin estate, a mansion that radiated opulence from every intricately carved stone pillar and sprawling garden. Inside, however, the atmosphere was anything but serene.
"How many times do we have to tell you, Saejoon?" boomed Shin Hyunwoo, the patriarch of the Shin family and CEO of the Shin Group conglomerate. His voice echoed through the high-ceilinged dining hall, reverberating with frustration. "Do you think life is a game? Look at you! Obese, lazy, and incapable of taking anything seriously!"
Saejoon Shin slouched in his chair, poking at his untouched steak with a fork. His bloated figure barely fit into the designer suit he'd been forced to wear for dinner, and his expression—equal parts indifference and defiance—was enough to push his father to the edge.
"I'm still young," Saejoon mumbled, his eyes flicking towards the grand chandelier above, as though it held the answer to life's great mysteries. "I'll figure it out eventually. What's the rush?"
His mother, Han Minjeong, sighed from her seat, her delicate features marred by worry. "Saejoon, this isn't just about you. You're the heir to the Shin Group. Your father didn't build this empire for you to throw it all away."
"Exactly!" snapped Shin Yeseul, his older sister and the pride of the family. "While you waste your time playing video games and chasing girls who laugh at you, the rest of us are working to secure the company's future."
"Ugh, here we go again…" Saejoon muttered under his breath, but loud enough for everyone to hear.
His younger brother, Haneul, stifled a laugh but quickly looked down when their father shot him a glare.
"Do you find this amusing, Haneul?"
"N-no, sir," Haneul stammered, shrinking in his chair.
"See?" Saejoon said, gesturing to his brother with a lazy grin. "At least someone here enjoys my company."
"Saejoon!" His mother's sharp tone silenced him. "This isn't a joke. You're eighteen now. Do you think anyone will respect a man who can't even respect himself?"
The cheerful mask Saejoon wore slipped, if only for a moment. "Fine," he spat, pushing his chair back so hard it screeched against the marble floor. "If you all think I'm such a disgrace, maybe I'll just leave. Wouldn't that make your lives easier?"
Before anyone could respond, Saejoon stormed out of the room, ignoring the calls of his grandmother, Yoon Sookja, who watched the exchange with quiet sorrow.
The Escape
Saejoon retreated to his sanctuary: a darkened room lit only by the glow of his gaming setup. Shelves of anime figures lined the walls, and posters of his favorite series covered every inch of space. Here, he wasn't the failure of the Shin family. He was just Saejoon, a gamer, an anime fan, a dreamer.
But even as the familiar melodies of his favorite game's soundtrack filled the room, his father's words echoed in his head. Lazy. Incapable. A disgrace.
He shook his head and focused on the game, immersing himself in the digital world where he was a hero, not a disappointment. Hours passed, and the anger that had fueled his escape began to fade, replaced by the quiet emptiness he always felt when reality crept back in.
A knock at the door startled him.
"What now?" he grumbled.
The door creaked open, and Hana peeked inside. Her small frame and wide, innocent eyes made her look younger than ten. She held a tray with a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies.
"Mom said you didn't eat dinner," she said softly.
Saejoon sighed, setting down his controller. "Come in."
Hana placed the tray on his desk and sat cross-legged on the floor, her gaze flitting between the game on the screen and her brother's tired face.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he lied, forcing a smile.
"You're not," she said matter-of-factly. "But that's okay. I'm here."
Her simple words struck a chord Saejoon didn't realize he had. He ruffled her hair, a small chuckle escaping him. "Thanks, kiddo."
For a moment, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter.
The Beginning of the End
The next morning was like any other—until it wasn't.
Saejoon sat in the backseat of the family car, scrolling through his phone while his parents and older sister discussed business matters up front. Hana and Haneul were in the car behind them, driven by their nanny.
The convoy rolled through the bustling streets of Seoul, their cars gleaming like jewels in the sunlight. Saejoon barely noticed when their driver slowed at a busy intersection.
And then, in an instant, everything changed.
A deafening crash. Metal crumpling like paper. The world spun, and Saejoon's vision blurred as pain exploded in his body. He caught fleeting glimpses of shattered glass, his mother's scream, and his father's outstretched arm before darkness swallowed him whole.
When Saejoon opened his eyes again, it was to a sterile hospital room, the beeping of machines, and the weight of a loss he couldn't yet comprehend.