The construction site roared with noise.
Metal struck metal. The crane's warning horn cut through the air. Dust clung to Joon-woo's skin as he lifted another beam into place, his muscles moving on habit more than thought.
"Joon-woo! Left side!"
Min-jae's voice snapped him back. He adjusted just in time, the beam swinging past his shoulder.
"You're distracted today," Min-jae said, frowning. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Joon-woo replied automatically.
That was when his phone vibrated.
Once.
Twice.
He checked the screen.
Unknown number.
His chest tightened for no reason he could explain.
"I need a minute," he said, already stepping away.
He answered.
"Hello?"
"Is this Seo Joon-woo?" a calm, professional voice asked.
"Yes."
"This is the hospital. Your mother was brought in earlier today. She collapsed while working."
The world went silent.
"What?" Joon-woo whispered. "Where is she now?"
"She's in the emergency ward. You need to come immediately."
The call ended.
Joon-woo didn't remember running—only the sound of his own breathing, Min-jae shouting his name, and the car door slamming shut.
The hospital smelled of disinfectant and fear.
Joon-woo rushed down the corridor, his boots still dusty, his heart pounding painfully against his ribs.
Room 314.
He pushed the door open.
His mother lay on the hospital bed.
Pale.
Smaller than he remembered.
Tubes ran from her arm. Machines beeped softly beside her, each sound slicing through him.
"Mom…"
Hye-jin's eyes fluttered open. She smiled weakly when she saw him.
"You came so fast," she whispered.
He swallowed hard and forced a smile. "Of course I did."
He reached for her hand.
It was cold.
"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was just… a little tired."
His grip tightened. "Don't talk. Just rest."
She nodded, eyes closing again.
Behind him, the door opened quietly.
A doctor in a white coat stepped in.
"Mr. Seo?"
Joon-woo stood immediately. "Yes."
The doctor gestured for him to step outside.
They stopped in the hallway, the steady rhythm of hospital life moving around them.
"Your mother is experiencing kidney failure," the doctor said gently. "Her condition has worsened over time."
Joon-woo's heart dropped. "Failure…?"
"She has been pushing her body far beyond its limits," the doctor continued. "Without intervention, her condition will deteriorate quickly."
Joon-woo clenched his fists. "What do we need to do?"
"There is only one effective option," the doctor said. "A kidney transplant."
The word echoed in his ears.
"A transplant?"
"Yes. The good news," the doctor added carefully, "is that we have an available donor. The compatibility rate is very high."
Hope surged painfully through his chest.
"When?" Joon-woo asked. "How soon can it happen?"
"Very soon," the doctor replied. "However…"
The pause came again.
"…the cost of the surgery and post-operative care is significant."
The number that followed felt unreal—too large to grasp, too heavy to breathe through.
Joon-woo nodded slowly, even as his world cracked open.
"I'll get the money," he said firmly.
The doctor studied him for a moment, then nodded. "We'll give you some time. But not much."
That night, Joon-woo returned home alone.
The house felt colder without his mother.
He went straight to her room and opened the drawer where she kept her bank papers. His hands shook as he logged into her account.
There should be enough.
She never stopped working.
She never rested.
She never spent on herself.
The screen loaded.
Balance: $50.12
He stared.
Refreshed.
Stared again.
"No… this can't be right."
Panic flooded him. He tore through drawers, cabinets, envelopes—papers scattering across the floor.
Then he saw them.
Receipts.
Stacks of them.
Monthly payments. Transfers.
All addressed to one place.
Seoul.
His breath hitched.
Loan payments.
Loan shark payments.
His father's debt.
She had never stopped paying.
Even after losing everything.
Even after losing her husband.
Even while selling tteokbokki day and night.
Joon-woo sank to the floor, receipts clutched in his shaking hands.
"You were still carrying this alone…" he whispered.
His jaw tightened.
If the money was gone, there was only one place left to go.
Seoul.
Back to the city that destroyed them.
Back to the debt that refused to die.
He stood, eyes dark with resolve.
If the past had followed them here—
Then he would face it himself.