Saejoon woke to the hum of machines. His eyelids felt like lead, his body heavy and immovable. The antiseptic scent of the hospital room stung his nose as his mind clawed through the fog of unconsciousness.
For a fleeting moment, he thought it had all been a bad dream—the crash, the screams, the chaos. But as he glanced down and saw his legs wrapped in thick bandages, completely still, the truth came crashing down with the weight of a thousand bricks.
He tried to move, but nothing below his waist responded. Panic rose in his chest like a tidal wave. He thrashed against the restraints of his broken body until a nurse hurried in, her voice soft but firm.
"Mr. Shin, please, you need to stay calm," she said, pressing a button on the monitor.
"W-where are they?" Saejoon's voice cracked, his throat dry and raspy. "My family. Where are they?"
The nurse hesitated, her face pale. She glanced at the doctor entering behind her. The grim expression on his face confirmed Saejoon's worst fears before he even spoke.
"I'm so sorry," the doctor said. "Your parents, your brother, and your sister... they didn't survive the accident."
The words echoed in Saejoon's mind, over and over, each repetition carving a deeper wound into his soul.
"No..." he whispered, shaking his head. "That's not true. You're lying."
But the pity in their eyes told him otherwise.
Hana's Silence
Saejoon's ten-year-old sister, Hana, sat in the corner of the room, clutching a small stuffed rabbit. She hadn't said a word since she'd been brought in earlier. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and vacant, as if the shock had frozen her in time.
"Hana..." Saejoon croaked, his voice barely audible.
She turned her head slowly, her gaze meeting his. For a moment, her lip trembled, and Saejoon thought she might finally speak. But instead, she simply shook her head and buried her face in the rabbit's fur.
Saejoon wanted to reach for her, to hold her, to tell her it would be okay—even though it wouldn't. But his useless body refused to cooperate.
I can't even hug her, he thought bitterly.
The Funeral
The days blurred together, a haze of condolences, hospital visits, and hollow words. Saejoon was discharged from the hospital in a wheelchair, his legs still unresponsive. The funeral was held in the sprawling Shin estate garden, beneath the cherry blossoms his mother had loved so much.
Dressed in all black, Saejoon sat silently as a procession of mourners offered their respects. Business partners, distant relatives, and employees whispered their condolences, but their words were nothing more than noise to him.
Hana clung to his side, her tiny hand clutching the armrest of his wheelchair as if letting go would mean losing him, too.
The four caskets—his father, his mother, his older sister, and Haneul—were lowered into the ground one by one. Each thud of earth on wood felt like another nail in the coffin of his former life.
When it was over, Saejoon stared at the freshly dug graves, his face expressionless. He didn't cry. He couldn't cry.
The Weight of Responsibility
A week later, Saejoon sat in the grand office that had once belonged to his father. The weight of the family conglomerate—Shin Group—now rested entirely on his shoulders. As the sole surviving heir, all of the shares had been transferred to him. At eighteen, he was now the chairman of one of the largest conglomerates in South Korea.
The board of directors stood before him, their expressions a mix of pity and skepticism.
"Chairman Shin," one of them began cautiously, "you've been through unimaginable loss. Perhaps it would be best to appoint an interim chairman while you... recover."
Saejoon's gaze snapped to the man who spoke, his dark eyes sharp despite the exhaustion etched into his face.
"I'll handle it," he said firmly. His voice was steady, but inside, he felt like he was crumbling.
"Mr. Shin," another director interjected, "with all due respect, running a company of this magnitude requires years of experience—"
"Then I'll get that experience," Saejoon cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'll learn everything I need to know. You will keep this company running until I'm ready to take full control."
The room fell silent, the directors exchanging uncertain glances. Despite their doubts, none dared to challenge him further.
The New Routine
Saejoon threw himself into learning everything he could about the business. He hired tutors, attended endless meetings, and studied late into the night. Corporate law, financial management, global markets—he devoured it all with a singular determination.
Each day blurred into the next: endless hours of work, brief moments spent with Hana, and restless nights haunted by dreams of the accident.
Hana, still silent, often wandered into his room at night, clutching her stuffed rabbit. She would sit on his bed, waiting for him to finish whatever work he was buried in.
"Are you okay, Hana?" he asked one night, setting down a stack of documents.
She shrugged, her eyes downcast.
Saejoon sighed and wheeled himself closer to her. "I know this is hard. I miss them too."
Hana finally looked up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Do you think... they miss us?" she whispered.
Saejoon's chest tightened. He reached out and took her hand in his. "I think they're watching over us. And I think they'd want us to be strong."
Hana nodded, her grip on his hand tightening.
A New Purpose
As months passed, Saejoon's relentless studying began to pay off. He gained a deeper understanding of the company, its operations, and the power dynamics within the boardroom.
But beneath his calm exterior, a storm brewed. Whispers of corruption and betrayal among the board of directors reached his ears. The possibility that some of them might have been involved in the accident gnawed at him.
"I'll find out the truth," he murmured one night, staring out the window of his office. His reflection in the glass stared back—a shadow of the carefree boy he had once been.
His grip on the armrest of his wheelchair tightened. "And when I do, they'll pay for what they've done."
Closing Scene
Hana knocked softly on the office door, peeking in.
"Saejoon-oppa, aren't you coming to bed?"
He turned his chair to face her, his hardened expression softening at the sight of her. "Yeah, I'm coming."
As she waited for him to join her, Saejoon looked once more at the sprawling city skyline.
He had lost almost everything. But for Hana—and for the legacy his family left behind—he would keep moving forward, no matter the cost.
No one would ever take anything from him again.