Seoul, a city that never sleeps. Amidst the dazzling lights and the bustling metropolis, a baby boy was born into a well-off family. His name was Kang Joon-hyuk, the beloved child of an established couple, growing up in the warmth of a loving home.
Since infancy, his home had always been filled with joy. His mother was a gentle and caring woman, always ensuring that her child received the best attention. She often cradled him with love, singing lullabies that soothed him to sleep, while his father, despite being busy with work, always made time to play with him.
As Joon-hyuk began to crawl, his little world became a grand adventure. The living room with its soft carpet was his favorite place, where he eagerly moved from one corner to another with adorable determination. Occasionally, he would stumble and cry, but he would soon smile again when his mother comforted him with her soothing voice.
When he turned one, his first steps became a highly anticipated moment. Initially, he could only stand by holding onto the sofa, but over time, he grew brave enough to take small steps toward his mother, who waited for him with open arms. Every successful step was met with laughter and applause, encouraging him to try again and again.
These were warm and tender moments. Every morning, sunlight streamed through his bedroom window, casting a golden glow over his small bed. His mother would come in with a gentle smile, waking him with her soft voice before carrying him out of bed. Breakfast was always a delightful time, with the scent of warm milk and freshly baked bread filling their home.
When he began to speak, his first words became a source of happiness for his family. He often babbled endlessly, even if his words weren't entirely understandable. His father would always chuckle whenever he tried to say something with a serious expression, while his mother patiently guided him to pronounce words correctly.
At three years old, his curiosity grew boundless. Every corner of the house became a place of exploration, from his father's bookshelves to the kitchen where his mother cooked. He often tugged at his mother's hand, pointing at objects around him, seeking explanations for everything he saw. Each day was a new adventure for him.
Despite growing up in a comfortable environment, he was still a child full of energy. He loved running around the house, laughing gleefully as he played with his toys. Toy cars, stuffed animals, and colorful building blocks became his constant companions. He also began to develop an interest in bedtime stories read by his mother. His eyes sparkled whenever he heard tales of heroes, adventures, and magical worlds he had never seen before.
One day, he discovered a large picture book on the living room shelf. With eyes shining with excitement, he ran to his mother and handed her the book, hoping she would read it to him. "Eomma, read this!" he exclaimed cheerfully. His mother chuckled softly, lifted him onto her lap, and began reading the story. Each page turned captivated him even more. He didn't understand all the words, but the illustrations and his mother's voice were enough to make him feel as though he was on a real adventure.
He also had a unique habit. Whenever he received something new—whether it was a toy, a book, or even clothes—he would observe it carefully before using it. It was as if he wanted to understand the object first before fully accepting it as part of his world. His parents often smiled at this peculiar trait, considering it a charming part of their son's personality.
Amidst his playful freedom, he shared a close bond with both of his parents. His mother was always his source of comfort, while his father was someone he admired. He often sat on his father's lap while the man worked, staring at the computer screen with curiosity, even though he had no idea what was happening.
But there was one thing he loved the most—when his father returned from work and lifted him high into the air. He would giggle with joy, relishing the simple yet meaningful happiness. These small moments became cherished memories of his childhood.
At night, his mother would put him to bed, gently stroking his head. She would tell him soothing stories, lulling him into a peaceful sleep. However, there were certain nights when he would wake up for no apparent reason. He wouldn't cry; instead, he would simply stare at the ceiling, listening to the quiet sounds of the night outside the window. At the time, he didn't understand the feeling of loneliness, but something inside him occasionally made him ponder, even though he was still too young to grasp what it was.
Though too young to understand the world beyond his home, his life at that moment felt utterly perfect. He was surrounded by love, growing up in an environment filled with happiness. His world was still confined to his home and the people closest to him, but it was there that he began to learn the meaning of love, warmth, and true joy.
He had no idea what the future held, nor did he understand that the world beyond his home wasn't always as beautiful. But for now, he was just a little boy enjoying his childhood, surrounded by boundless love.