Five years had passed.
The small boy who had once struggled to take his first steps was now running confidently, laughing and pointing at everything around him. Kiaan, almost six years old, had grown curious, playful, and full of life. Mi‑un, smiling and calm, held his hand as they prepared for the journey to Nepal.
"Are you ready, Kiaan?" she asked, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.
"Yes! Ready, Mommy!" he replied, gripping her hand tightly.
---
The flight was filled with excitement. Kiaan held a worn copy of MK's manga in his hands, eyes wide as he flipped through the pages.
"Look, Mommy… he's smiling here!" Kiaan exclaimed, pointing at a panel.
Mi‑un smiled softly. "Yes, that's your dad's story, Kiaan… he made this for the world, and now you get to see it too."
The plane hummed softly, carrying them over mountains and rivers, closer to the land where MK had once lived, where his family waited to meet the child who carried his legacy.
---
Landing in Nepal, Mi‑un led Kiaan through the familiar streets, filled with memories of MK's childhood. They arrived at the house, where MK's parents and older brother waited with open arms.
"Kiaan!" MK's mother cried, embracing him gently. "You've grown so much!"
Kiaan giggled, hugging her tightly. "Grandma!"
MK's father smiled, brushing tears from his eyes. "Your father would be so proud."
MK's older brother, now taller, approached, kneeling down to Kiaan's level. "And you must be Kiaan… I've heard so much about you."
Kiaan giggled, hugging him. "Uncle!"
Finally, Sandeep approached, smiling warmly. He was now married, but the same kind, gentle friend of MK remained. Kiaan waved shyly, and Sandeep knelt down.
"So this is my little hero, huh?" he said. Kiaan nodded enthusiastically.
---
Mi‑un looked around, taking in the moment. The house was filled with laughter, love, and memories. She realized how far they had all come. MK's story had become a worldwide phenomenon; books, anime adaptations, and events celebrated his life. Yet, here, in this quiet home, the essence of MK—his love, courage, and spirit—remained alive.
---
Later, they gathered under the same tree where MK's diary had once been read. Mi‑un sat Kiaan on her lap, brushing his hair back.
"Kiaan… I want to tell you something," she said softly. "Your dad… MK… he loved the world, but he loved you too, even before you were born. His dreams, his stories… they live through you."
Kiaan tilted his head, curious.
"You see, he was very special, and his story changed many lives," Mi‑un continued. "Now, it's our turn to carry his love forward. You are part of his legacy, Kiaan… and one day, when you grow up, you'll understand just how amazing he was."
Kiaan hugged her tightly, as if understanding every word. Mi‑un whispered softly, tears in her eyes:
"MK… your sunrise continues, through him, through us, and through every heart that remembers you."
Outside, the wind rustled through the trees, carrying petals from the blooming flowers. Laughter, soft and warm, filled the air. Kiaan ran around, giggling, chasing butterflies, while Mi‑un watched with a heart full of love and peace.
For the first time in years, she felt complete—not just as a mother, but as a keeper of MK's story, a life full of memories, and a future full of hope.
The sun dipped low, painting the village in golden hues, as mother and son walked hand in hand—together, unstoppable, and surrounded by the love of family and the legacy of a boy who had once dreamed beneath the sunrise.