Moving to Daegu
Daegu didn't feel like home at first—too quiet, too unfamiliar, too far from everything they had lost. But it was the only place that welcomed them without asking for anything in return.
Soojin's father handed her the apartment keys before she could even protest."Stay here as long as you need. Family doesn't sleep on the streets."That single sentence broke something inside her—something she didn't know she'd been holding together.
Their new life began with old furniture, mismatched bowls, and hope that wavered every day.
Min-hyun spent an entire month searching for work. Every rejection chipped away at him a little more. At thirty-eight, job hunting felt like swimming against a current, but he kept going because there was no other choice.
Then one exhausted evening, he entered the apartment with a small, trembling smile.
"I… got the job."
For a moment, Soojin forgot the weight she had been carrying. They weren't saved, but they were no longer sinking.
Meanwhile, Min-hyun's father's health worsened. His mother barely slept, spending all day and night tending to him.With no maid, no helper, and no money to hire one, Soojin stepped in—cooking, cleaning, keeping Yunki's school papers organized, and chasing Yuki, who seemed to have endless energy even on days she didn't.
Yet among the storms, Yunki adapted the best. Ten years old and already stronger than the adults around him, he made friends quickly and returned home every afternoon with stories bright enough to soften the exhaustion in the house.
One weekend, Soojin visited her cousin near a small bakery café.Yuki clung to her hand at first, then quickly ran off to talk to every waiter and chef he met, leaving laughter in his trail.
While catching up, Soojin tasted a slice of cake—and paused.
"This almost tastes perfect… it just needs one small change. It's one step away from becoming a masterpiece."
She said it casually, without thinking the baker was close enough to hear.
A few minutes later, a gentle voice approached her."Excuse me… could you tell me what that change is?"
Soojin blinked, surprised, then nodded."Do you have a cake still in the process? If yes… I can show you."
The kitchen was warm and busy, but the moment she started talking about baking, the world around her shifted. Her hands moved naturally, her voice steady, confident. Even the staff paused to watch.
When they placed the cake in the oven, the bakery owner hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
"Would you consider working here? As a baker?"
The words felt unreal.Soojin's breath hitched. After months of fear, exhaustion, and uncertainty, someone was actually offering her a path forward.
She looked at Yuki—smiling, waving at a waiter—and something inside her softened.
"Yes," she said quietly. "I'd love to."
It wasn't a miracle.But it was a beginning.
And for the first time in a long time, that was enough.
Life in Daegu had become a whirlwind.
Soojin balanced her days between the bakery and managing the household with her mother-in-law. Every morning started before sunrise. Every night ended long after the city went quiet. Yet, despite the exhaustion, there was a small warmth in her chest—the paycheck she brought home was proof that their struggles were slowly paying off.
Min-hyun, too, was settling into his work. Every day, he learned, adapted, and became steadier. Slowly, the family was finding its rhythm.
But life had a way of reminding them that peace was never permanent.
One afternoon, Yuki was playing near the apartment stairs. She tripped. Scraped. Blood.
Soojin's heart stopped. She scooped her daughter up, tears blurring her vision."I'm so sorry, Yuki… I should've been watching…"
Her voice cracked. She wanted to do everything—be a good mother, manage the house, keep the bakery running—but there simply weren't enough hours in the day.
It was then that Yuki's maternal grandmother stepped in.
"Let her stay with us for a while. You and Soojin need space. It will be easier for everyone."
And just like that, Yuki was sent to her grandparents' farmhouse in the village.
The moment she arrived, the world opened up. Fresh air, wide fields, cows grazing, chickens clucking. The sky stretched endlessly above her. For the first time in months, Yuki smiled without restraint.
Village life was magical.
She ran barefoot through the fields. Climbed trees taller than her house. Rode her tiny cycle along dusty paths. Flew kites under the open sky. Learned to swim in the river. Tried her hand at catching fish in the pond. Every day was an adventure, a lesson, a game. Children everywhere became her friends. Her grandparents showered her with care and attention, making her feel safe and loved. Slowly, Yuki's small fears and past hurts melted away.
Nine months later, the family visited.
Yuki had grown taller, stronger, happier. Her laughter rang across the fields, bright and free. Seeing her like this, Soojin and Min-hyun knew—bringing her back now wasn't fair. The village had given her a life they couldn't.
Even after a few more months, she continued schooling in the village, thriving with every passing day. Her life was simple, joyful, and full of discovery—just like a child's should be.
Meanwhile, back in Daegu, Soojin's hard work was finally paying off.
The bakery was thriving under her hands. Her reputation grew, her salary gave them stability, and for the first time in years, life felt a little lighter.
Min-hyun also flourished. His work became steady, his confidence grew, and together, they began saving for the future.
Five years passed.
One evening, Soojin spoke her long-held dream aloud."I want to open my own bakery."
Min-hyun smiled, eyes glinting with determination. Together, they chose the perfect location, planned marketing carefully, and set pricing that would attract customers while keeping quality high.
Within four months, the bakery was bustling. Customers praised their craft. Word spread fast. Their lives were changing—for the better.
Finally, with stability in their hands, they brought Yuki back.
The Distance Between Us
Bringing Yuki back home was supposed to be a happy moment.A reunion.A fresh start.
But the moment she stepped into their Daegu apartment, the air felt… wrong.
The rooms were smaller than the open fields she grew up running through.The walls felt closer.The silence felt heavier.
And her parents… they looked like strangers trying too hard.
They bought her toys.Snacks.New clothes.Everything they could afford.
But none of it matched the freedom she once had—the dusty roads, the kites, the river, the endless sky.
She tried to play with Yunki, hoping he might fill that space.
But Yunki was quiet.Serious.Book-bound.
Yuki was the opposite—wild, loud, full of movement.
Their play sessions always ended in arguments.Her voice cracking.His temper rising.Their parents standing helpless in between.
At night, she cried silently in her bed.
"I want to go back to Grandma's house… I want my old life…"
Days turned into weeks, and tantrums became routine.Her parents tried to understand, but they simply… couldn't.They didn't know the version of her that grew up without them.
School was the only place she shined.
There, she made friends easily.Laughing.Joking.Running around the playground like she owned the wind.
But at home?Everything felt unfamiliar.Even her grandparents on her father's side treated her well—but it wasn't the same warmth, the same softness she had in the village.
Soojin watched Yuki struggling, tantrums becoming storms she could barely calm. Her heart ached. She wanted to be everywhere at once—at the bakery, at home, with Yuki, guiding Yunki—but there simply weren't enough hours in a day.
Min-hyun noticed the strain too. He had watched his wife pour herself into everything, yet it still wasn't enough. The decision weighed on him heavily.
He left his stable job.
Not because he wanted to escape.Not because he was tired.
But for two reasons.
One: to give more time to the family, to help bridge the growing distance between them, to be present where they needed him most.
Two: to support Soojin's bakery, which had more clear potential than his own work. He had seen her dedication, her skill, her passion—and he knew it could grow into something remarkable. But not if she carried it all alone.
And so, Min-hyun stepped into her world. Long hours, early mornings, late nights—he worked beside her, learning, helping, strategizing. Together, they slowly built the bakery into a place of stability and hope.
Six months passed like this. Yuki's studies improved, her smile returned—but the tension at home lingered.
When her results arrived, she held the paper proudly against her chest. 80%. Her highest ever.
She ran home, eyes sparkling, expecting praise.
But the moment she held out the paper… Soojin's face stiffened.
"Why is it so low?"
The air shattered.
Yuki froze.Her smile fell apart like broken glass.
Her chest tightened.Her voice trembled with anger and hurt—raw, unfiltered.
"You can never see the good in me, can you?"
Her eyes burned."Just stay with your topper son! Leave me in the village like before!"
She didn't wait for a response.She ran.
Out the door.Down the stairs.Onto the street.And then she disappeared.
Panic.Utter panic.
Min-hyun and Soojin searched everywhere.Calling her name until their throats hurt.Running through alleys, parks, roads, asking everyone if they'd seen a little girl.
Hours passed.Three.Four.
No sign of her.
By the time she walked through the door herself, covered in dust and exhausted, the relief nearly brought them to their knees.
The yelling came immediately.
"We tried so much to find you! Do you know what could've happened? What if someone kidnapped you?"
But Yuki didn't cry.She didn't flinch.She simply looked up, eyes tired.
"I know," she whispered.
They stopped.
"I saw you."
Min-hyun's breath caught.
"What…?"
"I was playing on the ground. The one I always go to."She shrugged.Her voice was small but honest."If you knew me… even a little… you would know where I go every day."
Silence fell over the room.
Her next words were softer.Gentler.Almost breaking.
"I'm sorry… I really thought you wouldn't come to take me."Her eyes glistened."But I saw you… running everywhere… calling my name… and I realized…"
She swallowed."You care about me more than I thought. You just… don't know me yet."
And with that, she walked away.
Into her room.Washed her face.Changed into clean clothes.
When she returned, no one said a word.They just sat at the table—three tired hearts, three silent plates—and ate their food quietly.
The distance between them was still there…But for the first time, it felt like it could be crossed.
Soojin couldn't keep it to herself any longer. After dinner, she picked up her phone and called her parents.
"Eomma, appa… I wanted to tell you what happened with Yuki," she began, her voice trembling a little from relief.
She explained everything—Yuki's tantrums, her struggles to adapt, and how they managed her, slowly guiding her back into school and studies.
On the other end, her maternal grandmother gasped.
"She scored highest?"
Soojin smiled."Really, eomma?"
"Yes! This is a huge deal," her grandmother exclaimed, her voice full of pride and excitement. She turned to her husband on speakerphone.
"Soojin! Tell her I'm coming over to give her gifts! Or you can send her here! I'm so happy for my granddaughter!"
Her grandfather's voice was louder, joyful, almost bouncing through the phone."Soojin, remember, Yuki is not like us or Yunki in studies. She's different, and she deserves to be appreciated for what she does, not compared!"
Soojin nodded quietly, smiling softly."Yes, eomma. We'll come visit soon."
When they finally went to the village, Yuki's happiness was impossible to miss.
She ran freely across the fields, her hair whipping in the wind. Kites flew high above her head. She laughed as she splashed in the river, splattered mud on Yunki during a playful fight, and raced him in swimming contests.
Her grandparents watched her with pride, presenting small gifts. But the ones she treasured most weren't the store-bought items—they were handmade toys, knitted mufflers, and freshly baked treats. Yuki's eyes sparkled as she hugged every gift, her laughter ringing across the farmhouse. Soojin noticed, her chest tightening at how much these simple things mattered to her daughter.
Back in Daegu, Soojin wanted to celebrate Yuki's achievement with a shopping trip for a new school dress.
But the moment they entered an expensive store, Yuki froze. She stared wide-eyed at the price tags, then whispered:"Eomma… seriously? How can you buy from here?"
Soojin tried to convince her, softly,"It's okay, Yuki. We need to celebrate your success."
Yuki's eyes filled with worry, shaking her head."Celebrate? By buying something we can't afford? What about our budget for the next two months? Yunki oppa even needs a new study hall… I heard!"
Soojin froze. Her words… were right.
Finally, Yuki said while taking her mother hands in hers."You're right. Eomma told me how hard you've worked, and appa and I are trying our best for you. Today… let's just forget the spending, okay? You don't have to prove anything to us."
Soojin's eyes softened."Really?"
"Really," Yuki smiled."Tomorrow, we'll go to the shop together. Then we'll pick my dress, okay?"
Soojin nodded, her grin returning. And for the first time in a while, the apartment felt a little lighter, a little warmer.
The next day, Soojin and Yuki went shopping.
Yuki had already taken the lead, clutching a small note."Eomma, we're going here," she said confidently.
Soojin followed, trying to find the address. After a long search through crowded streets, twisting alleys, and small shops, they arrived at a middle-class market.
To her surprise, Yuki immediately recognized someone.
"Aunty!" she called, smiling brightly.
The woman turned, and Yuki explained softly,"You should give us some discount, please!"
The woman laughed warmly and agreed. In the end, they found a beautiful dress at an affordable price.
Yuki's eyes sparkled with joy, her laughter echoing through the small market. Soojin watched her, a warm smile spreading across her face.
That night, Yuki had gone to sleep early. Later, feeling thirsty, she quietly tiptoed to the kitchen.
But as she reached for a glass, she overheard voices—her whole family sitting together, talking.
Soojin's voice carried first, soft but thoughtful."I don't know how to feel… Before I was sent to live on my own, I never worried about shopping or budget. Even now, I never buy things based on price. I buy what I like. I never even checked the price before I was 23. Did you guys?"
Min-hyun sighed softly."No."
Yunki, still young but honest, added,"I still don't do it now."
Soojin's voice grew quieter, tinged with emotion."I wanted to spoil my daughter like a princess… but now she's teaching me about a 'mediocre life.' This life isn't bad, but… I remember her saying the other day she wanted to buy from that shop. I took her there, but she didn't buy, no matter how I tried. She literally changed her liking because of the price range…"
Yunki's small voice asked,"You can do that?"
Soojin chuckled softly, almost to herself."I… don't know if I can."
On the other side, Min-hyun's parents, on speakerphone, offered wisdom."She's a bright girl. Don't feel disheartened. Her maternal grandparents raised her with expensive things. You can't afford that now, but in the future, you will."
Min-hyun's voice was steady, full of determination."I will give my best to give everything the best for my daughter."
Yuki stood quietly in the kitchen, listening to all of this. She tilted her head slightly, thinking. "They say they can't change their perception for clothes without seeing the price… If I had the money, I wouldn't even care. But they don't. What kind of mindset is that?"
She smiled softly to herself. "At least… they think about it. They care for me so much."