Archive of Our Own

The sound of tiny footsteps racing down the hallway carried through the apartment. Yunho ignored them, opening his eyes and glancing at his side table to look at the time. He sighs, burying his face back into the pillow. If he stays perfectly still, makes no sound, maybe Nari will decide to go back to bed.

The bedroom door is pushed open, “Daddy!”

A small body launched onto the mattress, crawling until she was sitting directly next to him. She grabs his shoulder and starts shaking it.

Yunho groaned into his pillow, “Nari.”

“Daddy.”

“It’s five in the morning.”

“I’m awake.”

“I know you’re awake, sweetie.”

“Then you need to be awake.”

Yunho rolls onto his back, Nari taking that as her cue to sit on his stomach and grin at him. Her black hair is stuck out in every direction. She still had a mark on her cheek from where it was pushed into her pillow while she slept. She was too energetic for five in the morning, but Yunho guessed that when you’re only four years old, you’re full of nothing but energy.

“You know,” Yunho says, rubbing a hand over his face, “most people are sleeping at this hour.”

Nari gasps, “That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Nari crosses her arms, frowning. “Daddy, the birds are awake.”

“The birds are wrong.”

Nari giggles, and Yunho can’t help but smile. For a moment, Yunho simply watches her as she falls onto the bed next to him. Sometimes, he can’t believe she’s real. Four years ago, he had been terrified. Terrified of holding her. Terrified of feeding her, of making a mistake. Terrified of raising her on his own. Because one week after Nari was born, everything had changed.

One week. Seven days. That was all it had taken. Wooyoung had packed a bag while Yunho was asleep, and when he woke up, he was gone. No goodbye or explanation. Just a single text that said he was sorry and couldn’t do this.

That was four years ago, when Nari couldn’t talk or walk and wouldn’t remember her other parent. Now, she’s loud. Messy. Funny. Nari is the best thing that has ever happened to Yunho.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

“I’m hungry.”

Yunho knew it was no use arguing with her. One look at her big brown eyes and the pout she would be giving him would make him crack. He sighs, fighting back the smile so she can’t see how easily she’s won, “How about pancakes?”

Nari shoots off the bed and out the bedroom door, shouting a “yay!” as she runs towards the kitchen.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Preschool drop-off was an organized mess. Children ran in every direction, teachers greeted parents, and backpacks were tossed into the cubbies. Someone was crying because another child had allegedly looked at them the wrong way. Nari squeezed Yunho’s hand as they walked towards her classroom.

Nari pulls him to a stop, “Daddy.”

“Yes?”

“My shoes are sad.”

Yunho blinks, “What?”

“My shoe.” She points down at her shoe, showing him that it had come untied.

“Oh.” Yunho crouches down to retie it for her.

Once done, Nari throws her arms around Yunho’s neck. The hug nearly knocks him backward, but he’s quick to steady them. He closes her eyes, squeezing her back. There are moments he tries to engrave in his memory. The random hugs. The tiny hand stretching toward his. The exciting stories she tells him after school. Because everyone told him that children grow up fast, and somehow, already, she’s not a baby anymore. Nari is in school, she has friends, and she’s had playdates. Soon enough, she’s not going to need him anymore.

He presses a kiss to her cheek, standing and reaching for her hand so he can walk her the rest of the way to her class.

“I’ll pick up later, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“Be good, listen to your teacher.”

“I do!”
“I know.”

Nari smiles, spotting one of her friends and gasping. She says a quick goodbye and runs into the room to join the other child at the small toy kitchen. She doesn’t look back, and the sight always makes his chest tighten. Some pride, but a little bit of sadness, too. This is supposed to happen. She’s supposed to grow up. Sometimes, he just misses when it was just them.

The afternoon passed quickly. Yunho went to work at a law firm as their head of IT. It was a day full of nothing but phone calls, emails, and the same girl who ‘breaks’ her computer calls to tell him it won’t turn back on, but it just wasn’t plugged in. It’s a normal schedule for him, and he loves it, but he can’t wait until he’s off.

Picking up Nari is his favorite part of the day. The way her face lights up when she sees him, the giant smile, the way she runs to him for a hug.

“Daddy!”

She sprints across the playground, launching herself into his arms. He laughs, lifting her up and kissing her cheek. “How was your day?”

“I painted you a picture today!”

“Did you?”

Nari nods, “mhm! And I learned about butterflies!”

Yunho sets her down, takes her small backpack, and grabs her hand as they start walking towards the car. “That’s amazing. What else happened?”

Nari taps her chin and hums. “Oh! Daehyun ate glue!”

Yunho pauses and looks down at her. “What?”

“Oops. I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” She gives Yunho her best puppy eyes, “Please don’t tell Uncle Mingi and Uncle Jongho! Daehyun will be sad!”

Mingi and Jongho have been two of his closest friends for years. Yunho and Mingi grew up together and have known each other since they were toddlers. They met Jongho through Wooyoung, quickly welcoming him into their friend group, but it became obvious pretty fast that Mingi and Jongho had feelings for each other. Wooyoung had played matchmaker, claiming he had blind dates set up for them, but it ended up being each other. Mingi and Wooyoung found out they were pregnant around the same time, too, with Daehyun only two months younger than Nari. The couple had been his biggest support system after Wooyoung left. They stayed with him and helped with Nari until Daehyun was born, then Yunho was on his own.

“No promises,” Yunho says, lifting Nari to help her into her car seat.

He’s just finished buckling her in when he turns and feels his heart drop. A man standing across the street, talking to one of the parents, who looks familiar to him. They’re wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, and it almost looks like they’re staring directly at Yunho and Nari. He doesn’t want to admit who this stranger looks like, but the chances of it being Wooyoung are low. No one has heard from or seen him in four years, including his own brother. Although Yunho has never fully believed that Wooyoung would cut Hongjoong out that way.

“Daddy?” Yunho looks over at Nari, “What are you looking at?”

He hesitates before shaking his head, “Nothing, sweetie.”

When he looks back, the man is gone. Wooyoung isn’t back. Four years. Four years without a single phone call. Without a birthday card for Nari. Without a single attempt to see their daughter. People don’t just disappear for four years and show back up unannounced. Right?

“Can we get ice cream?”

Nari, none the wiser to the confusion in Yunho’s head, asks with a sweet smile. Yunho laughs, the stress in his body fading immediately. “You ask every day.”

“Is that a yes?”

“You know what?” Yunho looks back at where the man had been standing, unable to shake away the feeling, “Let’s get you ice cream, and then we’ll go shopping, okay?”

Yunho doesn’t think he’s ever seen his daughter so excited before. It’s not like he tells her no every time she asks, especially since he finds it extremely hard not to give her everything she wants. Something in him today wants to spend as much time with her as possible, to make sure she knows that she’s the most important person to him, that he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. A part of him thinks he’s being dramatic, but the other, much bigger part of him has a growing sense that they’re about to have their world flipped.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The front door slammed open before Yunho could stop it.

“Daddy, look!”

Nari bursts into their home, tiny sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor as she runs. She digs through her backpack before pulling out a crushed painting triumphantly, a big smile on her face. Yunho barely has time to set down the grocery bags before she crashes into his legs.

“Oh?” He asks, kneeling down. “What’s this?”

Nari shoves the paper in his face, “It’s us!”

Yunho smiles. The painting consists of three uneven stick figures. One large, one tiny, and a yellow blob that he assumes is the sun. “It’s very nice, Nari.”

Nari points at the tallest figure, “This one is you!”

“It’s uncanny how much it looks like me.”

Nari giggles, pointing at the smaller one, “That’s me.”

Yunho examines the page, looking at the third figure, “Is that Uncle Hongjoong?”
Hongjoong, despite being Wooyoung’s older brother, was active in Nari’s life. He has been coming around since the day she was born. Whenever Yunho stays late at work, or knows he’s going to be late, or the very rare few times he goes on a date, Hongjoong is the person he calls to babysit. Nari loves her uncle, but she has no idea he’s her mom's brother, and he’s not sure when he should tell her.

Nari’s smile fades slightly, her little finger floating above the paper. “No, it’s mommy.”

Their home suddenly feels a lot quieter. Yunho feels his heart break for her all over again. Even after four long years, times like these catch him off guard. Nari doesn’t ask about her mom often anymore. When she was younger, she’d point at other parents in the park and ask where hers was. When she was three, she had a night when she cried and asked why everyone had one except for her. Yunho remembers that night vividly, wishing he had an answer for her. Now, Nari rarely mentions, which somehow hurts even more.

Yunho swallows, “he’s beautiful.”

Nari nods seriously, turning the paper around and staring at it. “Did mommy like to draw?”

The question hits harder than it should. It’s a simple question with an easy answer, but he doesn’t know if it’s still true. Yunho doesn’t know anything about Wooyoung anymore. Does he still like to draw? Does he still drink Americanos with four sugar packets? Does he still love opening a window during a thunderstorm and watching it? Yunho doesn’t know any of it. Four years had erased everything.

He clears his throat, “I think he does.”

The answer seems to satisfy her. She put the paper on the living room table and ran towards the kitchen. “Can we have dinosaur nuggies?”

Yunho lets out a small breath, standing and following her, setting the grocery bags on the counter. “Whatever you want, sweetie. Are you hungry now?”

“Mhm,” Nari nods, “I’m always hungry.”
“Of course you are.”

Yunho puts enough nuggets in the oven for both of them, helping Nari set up a small coloring station while they wait. After dinner, Nari requests that they build a tower together out of some blocks that Jongho got her for her birthday this year, followed by her handing him the same picture book he’s read to her every night for a month and asking if he’d read it to her again.

He puts Nari to bed and starts his nightly routine of cleaning up after them. Cleaning off the crayons from the table, putting the building blocks into a storage bin, cleaning up their dinner plates, and putting them in the dishwasher. Yunho had just put Nari’s backpack in its designated spot when there was a gentle knock on the door. He checks his watch, not expecting anyone to be coming over at this time, but ends up assuming it’s his neighbor who locks herself out of her place often.

Yunho detours to the kitchen, grabbing his neighbor, Yujin’s, key from the junk drawer, before pulling open his front door. “Yujin, you’ve got to -“

His heart was thudding in his chest. It felt like he forgot how to breathe. Standing in front of him was Wooyoung. For a second, the world stopped. Wooyoung is here. He’s real. He’s alive. He’s okay. His hair is longer now, and his face looks thinner. He looks a little older, but not by much. There are faint dark circles beneath his eyes and a worn duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. Despite it being four years, Yunho recognizes him instantly. The same dark brown eyes and face that Yunho always loved are still prominent on his lips. He’s the same person who left one week after their daughter was born.

Wooyoung stared back at him, almost as if he was shocked Yunho had even opened the door. Neither of them spoke, but Yunho found he couldn’t. He felt like he had nothing to say and a lot to say at the same time, and had no idea where to begin. Wooyoung is back. After four years of sleepless nights, hospital visits, birthday parties, nightmares, school forms, and questions he didn’t have any answer to. Four years of making him do everything alone. Now, he’s standing here as if he doesn’t know he destroyed their lives.

“Yunho.”

The sound of his voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Rage. He feels pure, overwhelming rage. Yunho steps outside, accidentally slamming the door shut behind him and hoping Nari didn’t hear it.

“What are you doing here?”

It feels wrong to be so mad at Wooyoung. He spent all of his teenage years and two years of his twenties loving Wooyoung, being nothing but loving, supportive, and kind to him. He’s never raised his voice at him, choosing to talk things out instead of fighting.

Wooyoung flinches, “I know I don’t deserve -“

Yunho laughs harshly, “No, you don’t.”

Silence. The hallway feels too small. Too hot as well as suffocating. Wooyoung lowers his gaze, “I… I just wanted to see you. To see her. To see how you two are doing.”

The words nearly make Yunho lose it. “You wanted to see her? After four years?” He doesn’t mean to, but his voice rises. He spent four years of his life imagining the moment Wooyoung comes back and how he’d react. He’s thought about what he would do so many times. “Do you know how many nights she’s cried for you?”

“Yunho.”

Yunho pushes on, overlooking the way Wooyoung’s eyes start shining. “Do you know how many times she’s been sick? How many birthdays have you missed? How many firsts have you missed?” Wooyoung avoids his eyes, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “She had her first day of preschool, learned to walk and talk. And you weren’t there.”

Every word seems like a knife, and Yunho can feel his eyes starting to burn, “You weren’t there. You left.”

Wooyoung’s face crumbles, “I know.”

“No, you don’t.”

For the first time in years, all the pain Yunho’s buried deep down comes rushing back. Every single lonely night and moment of fear and doubt. Every second he’s spent wondering why he wasn’t enough. Why Nari wasn’t. Why had Wooyoung, someone he spent years with, left?

Wooyoung wipes his eyes, “I never stopped thinking of you two. I just…”

Yunho scoffs, “Thinking about her isn’t raising her.”

Then, a tiny voice from behind the door makes them both pause. “Daddy?”

Yunho is frozen to the spot. The door behind him squeaks open, and suddenly, Nari is standing there. Head tilted to the side in curiosity as she hugs her fox plush to her chest. She peeks around Yunho’s legs, making eye contact with Wooyoung. Wooyoung stops breathing, and Nari blinks, “Who’s that?”

The question shattered both him and Wooyoung. Nari doesn’t recognize him, but how could she? Yunho had hidden away anything involving Wooyoung long before Nari could start asking questions. She was a newborn when Wooyoung left. To her, this isn’t her mother. This is some stranger she heard her dad yelling at. Wooyoung’s eyes immediately fill with tears, and Yunho feels something ache deep inside his chest.

Yunho looks to Wooyoung, to their daughter, then back to his ex. He had always imagined that in this moment he’d be throwing Wooyoung out, screaming at him, slamming the door in his face. But now, with Wooyoung standing in front of him, with Nari looking at Wooyoung with big, questioning eyes, and Wooyoung looking broken, he couldn’t do any of that. Not now.

Nari tugs at his pant leg, “Daddy?”

Yunho bit his lip, kneeling at her height. “Nari,” his voice comes out just above a whisper, “this is…”

The words stick in his throat. Because no matter how angry or how hurt he is, no matter how much damage has already been done, there’s one thing he can’t do. He could never keep Nari from getting to know her mom. If Wooyoung is here to try to make amends, he can’t keep that from her. “This is your mom.”

The hallway falls quiet. Nari stares at Wooyoung with wide, confused eyes. Yunho’s struck by how much she looks like him. Wooyoung has tears sliding down his face as he kneels, scared to get too close, but wanting to be at her level.

“Hi, Nari.”

Nari stares. The sole sound in the hallway was a distant hum of the building's air conditioner. Her stuffed fox is hanging loosely from her hand as she looks at Wooyoung. Her eyebrows are scrunched together, something she always does when she’s trying hard to understand something. Yunho’s words linger in the air. Nari doesn’t look excited or happy, but she doesn’t look upset either. Just confused, as someone told her the sky is green instead of blue. Nari’s eyes travel from her dad back to Wooyoung, her voice faint when she finally speaks. “You are?”

Curious and innocent. Nari is completely unaware of how devastating the question is. Wooyoung swallows, “Yeah.” Wooyoung clears his throat, “Yeah, baby. I am.”

Nari blinks. Baby. That’s something only her dad has ever called her. She takes a small step closer, still holding the fox, studying Wooyoung carefully. Wooyoung couldn’t stop staring at her. She’s so much bigger than the last time he’d seen her. Of course, she’d been a newborn. Back then, Nari could fit in the crook of his arm. She’d been so tiny, fragile, and wrinkled. Now, she has long black hair falling over her shoulders, bright eyes, and chubby cheeks.

Four years. Four years stolen in a single blink. Wooyoung had imagined this moment thousands of times. He had pictured Nari running to him, asking where he’d been, crying. But for some reason, he never imagined this. A stranger's gaze. A child is trying to figure out who he is and realizes he has no memory of him.

“Mommy?” Nari says the word carefully. Testing it.

Wooyoung nods, the tears he’d been trying to hold back freely falling. “Yeah.”

Nari tilts her head, “Like… my mommy mommy?”

The tears become impossible to stop as Wooyoung nods, “Yes.”

Something flicks across Nari’s face. Delight and wonder. The same excitement Yunho has seen hundreds of times when she learns something new. “Oh!” Then she says again, “Oh.”

Wooyoung’s eyes flick to Yunho, but he’s focused on Nari, wondering where her train of thought is going. Then, Nari says, “I thought mommy’s were pretend.”

The entire world freezes. Yunho closes his eyes, the words punching the air from his lungs. Wooyoung physically flinches. Nari didn’t understand what she’d said. She wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. To her, mom had been a story. An idea, just a person she’d seen in a few photos that her dad never let her look at for long. Not someone real or someone who could be in front of her right now.

Wooyoung covered his mouth, but a sob still escaped. Nari immediately looked concerned, the way children always do when an adult cries, “Did I make you sad?”

Wooyoung wipes his eyes, “No. No, sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Nari goes from looking relieved to looking curious, “Can I ask you something?”

Wooyoung lets out a weak laugh, “You can ask anything.”

“Where have you been?”

The question landed like a bomb. Yunho stiffened, and Wooyoung froze. Out of everything she could have asked, it was the one he heard the most. Nari looks between the two adults, waiting. Yunho looks to Wooyoung, watching the gears spin in search of an answer.

Wooyoung looks down, then back at Nari. How do you explain something like this to a four-year-old? How do you explain your biggest mistake? His chest constricts, “I got scared.”

The words feel pathetic as soon as they’re out. Small and worthless, but they’re true.

“Scared?”

Wooyoung nods, “When you were born.” Nari sits in the doorway, cross-legged, hugging her fox, like she’s ready to listen to one of Yunho’s bedtime stories. Yunho almost laughs. “When you were born, I thought I would know how to be a parent. I thought everything would magically make sense or click into place, but it didn’t.”

Wooyoung’s voice is soft, and Nari is listening carefully. The memories came rushing back to him. The hospital, sleepless nights, crying, and the fear. The overwhelming realization that another human being depended on him. “I was terrified all the time. I was scared of doing everything wrong.”

Nari frowns, “like dropping me?”

A startled laugh escapes him, “yeah.”

Nari gasps, “You dropped me?!”

“No, I never dropped you.”

She seems satisfied, “Okay.”

Wooyoung’s smile fades, “but I kept thinking I wasn’t good enough.” His eyes drift to Yunho. He had looked so natural, even when exhausted. Yunho knew how to hold her, how to calm and comfort her. Meanwhile, Wooyoung felt as if he were sinking. “I thought you deserved better.”

The hallway became quiet again. Nari frowns. “But, you’re my mommy.”

The simple statement hits harder than anything else. Not because it’s dramatic or emotional, but because to Nari, it’s that simple. There’s no complexity. There are no years full of endless regrets. Just a basic fact.

Wooyoung lowers his head, burying his face in his hands, and cries. Really cries, for the first time in years. All the years of guilt and shame, re-experiencing the morning over and over. In the morning, he’d packed a bag and convinced himself that leaving would make things easier. The morning he’d kissed Nari’s forehead, watched Yunho sleeping nearby, and walked away. Every day afterward had been a mistake. Wooyoung had wanted to come back after a week. But then a week turned into a month, which turned into six, which turned into a year. Every day made returning harder. How do you come back from abandoning your family? How do you face the people you’ve hurt?
So he stayed away, and he hated himself for it. Until one day, the guilt became unbearable. He realized he couldn’t lose another year, another month, another day. He’d come back terrified and certain that Yunho would turn him away the second he saw him. Certain that Nari would hate him. Honestly, he’d deserve it.

Nari crawled closer, and Wooyoung looked up. The little girl stares at him thoughtfully, then holds out her fox plush, “Here.”

Wooyoung blinks, “What?”

“When I’m sad, Foxy helps.” Wooyoung’s heart broke all over again. “You can borrow him.”

Yunho looks away quickly because suddenly his eyes burned, too. Wooyoung accepted the fox with shaking hands, holding it as if it were the most precious thing in the world. And maybe it is. Because it’s forgiveness, not completely, but it’s a start. The tiny, innocent kidneys of a little girl who didn’t understand yet how badly she’d been hurt. Wooyoung held the fox to his chest and cried. Nari scooted closer until their shoulders touched, and for the first time in years, his daughter was by his side.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yunho had to do their bedtime routine all over again, only this time, with Wooyoung. Nari insisted on brushing her teeth a second time so she could show her mom she could do it. Then, she made Yunho and Wooyoung sit on either side of her on her small bed while she read them her favorite bedtime story, as best as she could, anyway.

The entire time, Yunho felt like he was watching someone else’s life. Wooyoung sat stiff on the edge of Nari’s bed while she snuggled herself underneath her dinosaur blanket. Every movement seemed careful and tentative. As if he were afraid she might disappear if he moved too quickly. Nari, however, seemed perfectly content. Children are strange in that way. Resilient, curious, and willing to accept the impossible far more easily than adults.

“Daddy’s turn!” Nari points to the book.

Wooyoung laughs softly.

“We just finished it.”

“Again!”

“Nari.”

“Daddy. Again.”

Yunho watched the corner of Wooyoung’s mouth twitch upward. The first genuine smile he’d seen since he opened the door.

“You’re stubborn.”

“No, I’m determined.”

Yunho nearly chokes, “Who taught you that word?”

“Uncle Mingi!” Nari says proudly.

Yunho rubs a hand over his face, and Wooyoung’s laugh fills the room. Even after four years, the sound of his laughter makes him feel at ease. The realization irritates him. Eventually, Nari’s eyelids begin drooping, the excitement of the day catching up to her. She yawns, then denies being tired.

Nari curls beneath his blanket, her stuffed fox snuggled beneath one arm. “Will you be here tomorrow?”

The question came suddenly. Yunho and Wooyoung both freeze. Nari’s eyes are half closed, but she’s looking directly at Wooyoung, waiting. Wooyoung glances at Yunho, and he stares back, neither speaking. Neither of them knew the answer. Finally, Wooyoung looks back at Nari, “If your dad lets me.”

Nari accepts this, then points to Yunho, “You let him.”

Yunho almost laughs, “Nari.”

“You should.” Nari yawns again, “Goodnight.”

Within minutes, she’s asleep. Just like that. Like she didn’t meet her absent mother, like her entire world hasn’t changed. Children were incredible.

The apartment falls silent as Yunho carefully pulls the blanket higher around Nari’s shoulders. Something he’s done every night for four years. When he looks up, Wooyoung is watching him. There’s something painful in his look, something raw. Something that makes Yunho tense. Without a word, he walks to the bedroom door, Wooyoung following behind him.

The door shuts quietly behind them, and suddenly there’s nowhere left to hide. No distractions, no stories, no curious four-year-old. Just them. The living room felt different at night. Smaller and darker, the city lights outside project pale shadows across the floor. Yunho stands by the kitchen, and Wooyoung remains near the couch. Neither speaks for several minutes, the stillness stretching.

Finally, Wooyoung breaks it, “How bad was it?” His voice is hardly audible.

“How bad was what?”

“After I left.”

The answer sat in Yunho’s chest like a stone that had been there for years. Heavy, permanent, and waiting. Now that he has a chance to say it, he’s not sure where to begin. “Which part?” Wooyoung flinches, “the first week? The first month? The first year? You left me with a newborn, Wooyoung. I didn’t know what I was doing.” His voice cracks, “I was terrified, too.”

Wooyoung lowers his gaze, “I know.”

Yunho shakes his head, “I don’t think you do.” Years of anger pushed against his chest, demanding to be released. “Because you got scared and left. When I got scared, I stayed.”

Wooyoung squeezes his eyes shut. Every word landed exactly where Yunho intended.

“Do you know what those first months were like? I was sleeping maybe two hours at a time, sometimes less. There were nights she screamed for six hours straight. I’d sit on the bathroom floor holding her because it was the only place she’d calm down.” The memories flood back. How exhausted he was, the loneliness, the panic. “I couldn’t shower or eat. I couldn’t think.”

Wooyoung’s eyes fill again, but Yunho wasn’t finished.

“Every doctor's appointment? Me. Every fever? Me. Every nightmare? Me. You don’t get to come back and tell me that you were scared.”

The words echo through the apartment. Wooyoung looks devastated, and Yunho hates that he thinks it’s a good thing. Because that’s how he’s felt for years.

“I know.” His voice breaks.

“No. You keep saying that.” The tears he’s been holding back finally appear, “But you don’t.”

Wooyoung stares at him, then quietly says, “I thought about killing myself.” Yunho stops breathing. Wooyoung’s eyes go to the floor to avoid looking at him. Yunho knows he’s not saying it to guilt him; it’s just honest exhaustion. “I hated myself every day. I couldn’t look at pictures of her or hear kids laughing. Every reminder made me realize what I’d done.”

The anger inside Yunho wavered. Not disappeared, but shifted. The person in front of him wasn’t some selfish monster that he’s been telling himself during his darkest nights. He was broken and guilty, carrying his own scars. It didn’t excuse anything, not even close.

“I wanted to come back so many times. But every day made it harder.”

Yunho closes his eyes because a part of him understands. “You should have come back anyway.”

Wooyoung nods, “I know.”

“You missed four years.”

“I know.”

The tears finally escape Yunho’s eyes, “You missed everything.”

They stare at each other. Two people who were standing among the ruins of a life they’d once built together. Neither knowing how to fix it, nor even knowing if it could be fixed.

After several minutes, Wooyoung wipes his face. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t expect us to be tighter, or for you to even like me. But I want to know her.” His voice cracks, “Please.”

The plea hangs in the air. Raw, desperate, and honest. Yunho stared out the living room window, his thoughts a mess. He thought of Nari, her birthdays, first steps, the routines they’ve formed together. Then he thinks of tonight. Of Nari handing Wooyoung his fox, of her asking if he’d be here tomorrow, and for the first time since Wooyoung appeared at the door, Yunho realized this isn’t about him anymore. It’s not about his anger, his heartbreak, or the relationship they’d lost. It’s about the little girl sleeping down the hall. The little girl who deserves the chance to decide for herself.
Yunho finally speaks, his voice measured and careful. “You can be here tomorrow.” Wooyoung’s head snaps up, “but this doesn’t fix anything. You don’t get to walk back into our lives as if nothing happened.”

Wooyoung nods, “I know.”

Yunho studies him. The bag he’d set by the door and sighs, “It’s late. You should stay.”

Wooyoung starts shaking his head, “No, it’s fine. I was going to stay with Hongjoong.”

“Stay. For Nari.”

Wooyoung couldn’t argue with that. He’d already walked out once. What would Nari say if she came out in the morning and Wooyoung was gone again? Would she be disappointed? Sad? Mad that her dad didn’t let him come back?

“Okay. For Nari.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yunho didn’t sleep. He spent most of the night staring at the ceiling. Listening, waiting, thinking, overthinking. The couch creaked occasionally from the living room where Wooyoung had settled for the night. Every sound was a reminder that he wasn’t dreaming and Wooyoung was back. The same Wooyoung who had disappeared four years ago. The same Wooyoung who had somehow walked back into their lives. At some point, probably around three A.M, Yunho finally drifted off to sleep.

Only to be woken up by a tiny body launching herself directly onto his stomach, “Daddy!”

Yunho groaned, pain exploding through his ribs. “Nari.”

“Wake up!”

“Nari.”

“It’s morning!”

Yunho opened an eye and saw Nari grinning. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean, what do I want?”

The answer alone told him she wanted something or was up to something. Yunho sighs, sitting up and moving Nari to his lap. “What’s going on, baby?”

“Mommy’s making pancakes!”

Yunho felt his brain short-circuit. Nari giggled, scrambling away before he could stop her. Yunho stood, heart beating fast. He felt panic, confusion, and some mild irritation. He follows his daughter to the kitchen and promptly freezes in place. There, standing at the stove and wearing one of his old sweatshirts, is Wooyoung. The sleeves are rolled up, his hair is messy from sleep, and a spatula is in his hand. For one moment, it felt like stepping back in time. Back before everything fell apart, their mornings used to look like this. Back when Wooyoung belonged here. The feeling vanishes, but not before it hurts.

Wooyoung notices him, the previous smile he had waning slightly. “The couch didn’t kill me.”

“Pity.”

Wooyoung actually laughs, and Nari gasps, “Daddy! Be nice!”

Yunho stares at his daughter, and she stares back, clearly judging him. Four years old and already taking sides. Wonderful.

The morning passes by surprisingly peacefully. Mostly because Nari wouldn’t allow otherwise. She demanded they have breakfast together, then wanted them all to color together, and then wanted them to watch cartoons together. When a strong debate occurred about whether or not dinosaurs would enjoy pancakes or not, Wooyoung participated as if his life depended on it.

Yunho noticed everything. The way Wooyoung listened when Nari talked, the way he laughed at every ridiculous story, the way his entire face eased whenever she smiled. And worst of all, how naturally it seemed to come.

By ten, Yunho needed air and some distance. He needed someone else to tell him he wasn’t losing his mind. That’s how he found himself sitting in a coffee shop across town and sitting at a table with Mingi and Jongho.

Mingi looked personally offended, while Jongho looked concerned. Neither reaction surprised him.

“You did what?” Mingi’s voice traveled across half the cafe. Several strangers glanced over at them.

Yunho regretted meeting up with them in a public place. “Mingi.”

“No.” Mingi points aggressively.

Jongho nods, “I agree.”

Yunho rubs his temples, “Can either of you keep your voices down?”

“No.” This time, they say it together.

Yunho sighs, “I let him stay the night.”

“One night too many.” Mingi looks like he’s ready to start a fight. He holds up four fingers, “Four years! Four!”

Yunho stares at him, “I can count.”

“Apparently not.” Jongho nearly chokes on his coffee. Mingi continues, “He disappeared. Abandoned you and Nari.”

Yunho looks down, “I know.”

The anger slowly drains from Mingi’s expression, because that’s the problem. Yunho knows, and nobody knows better than him. Jongho leans in, more thoughtful and more measured. “How does Nari feel?”

The question changed everything. Because Nari is what’s important. Not Yunho or Wooyoung. Nari. Yunho stares at his coffee, “She likes him.”

Mingi groans loudly, “Of course she does.”

“She’s four. She’s excited.” Yunho swallows. “She keeps asking if he’ll come back tomorrow.”

Silence settles over the table. Jongho nods slowly, “Then that’s complicated.”

“That’s one word for it.”

Mingi looks unconvinced, “he doesn’t get to just walk back in.”

“I know, Mingi.”

“You better not forgive him because he cried.”

Yunho glares, “That’s not what’s happening.”

“Good.” Mingi points again, “because I still remember helping you when Nari was a baby.”

Yunho’s face softens. Mingi does remember. So does Jongho. They remember all of it. The midnight grocery runs, the emergency babysitting, the panic attacks. How exhausted Yunho was, and the days Yunho barely functioned.

“You don’t owe him anything, Yun.” Mingi’s voice is gentler now. “Not forgiveness, not a relationship, nothing.”

Jongho nods, “But,” Mingi groans, “Nari may benefit from knowing him.”

The words hang in the air. Yunho hates how reasonable they sound, because that was the question he’s been avoiding. Not whether Wooyoung deserved another chance, but if Nari deserves the opportunity to know her mother. And they’re two very different questions.

By the time Yunho returns home two hours later, his head hurts. Nothing appeared simpler or clearer; if anything, everything feels worse. He unlocks the door, steps inside, and hears laughter. Nari’s laughter resounded loudly, ringing out through the entire apartment. Yunho follows the sound and stops. The living room floor had disappeared under a mountain of blankets, pillows, couch cushions, and some of the kitchen chairs. An entire fortress occupied the living room. Nari stands proudly in the center wearing a plastic tiara, a superhero cape, and one sock.

“Daddy!” She points dramatically, “Welcome to my castle.”

Yunho blinks, “What’s going on?”

“We built a kingdom,” Nari said, as if it explained everything.

Wooyoung appears from inside the blanket fort wearing a paper crown. Yunho stares, and Wooyoung looks back. Nari encourages him to come closer, standing on one of the kitchen chairs and slowly placing another paper crown onto Yunho’s head.

“There.” She smiles, hands on her hips. “Now we’re all royal.”

Nari is giggling, saying something to Wooyoung, but Yunho doesn’t hear it. For a second, a very strange second, it feels almost normal. Like they’re a family. The realization hit them at the same time. Yunho watched it happen. The way Wooyoung’s smile falters, the way his eyes suddenly look sad, because he was seeing it, too. Everything he had missed and could have had. Everything he threw away.

Nari remained oblivious, thankfully. She grabs both their hands, “Come on.”

“Nari -“

“No.”

She starts pulling, “We have a dragon problem.”

Yunho exchanges a look with Wooyoung, and for the first time all day, he isn’t angry or tense. Just tired, mixed with confusion, along with a little amusement. “Dragon problems?” He asks.

Nari nods seriously, “The kingdom is under attack.”

Wooyoung stands, fixing his paper crown, “sounds urgent.”

“It is!”

For the first time since returning, Wooyoung smiled without forcing it, and Yunho almost smiled back. Neither of them knew what to do about that.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Three weeks later

Yunho hates routine. At least, that’s what he tells himself. But routines had saved him. Routines had carried him through sleepless nights, daycare drop-offs, fevers, nightmares, grocery shopping, laundry mountains, and every impossible moment of raising Nari alone. Routines mean stability, control, and safety. And lately? His routine has been changing, and it scares him.

“Daddy,” Nari comes sprinting into the kitchen, making Yunho look up from the stove. Wooyoung follows behind her at a significantly slower pace, “We have a very serious problem.”

Yunho sighs. Whenever Nari announced something was serious, it rarely was. “What happened?”

“The caterpillar escaped.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The caterpillar.”

“Nari.”
“It escaped.”

Wooyoung rubs his face, “She found a caterpillar in the park.”

Yunho turns on Wooyoung, “and you let her bring it home?”
“It’s one caterpillar, and it was in a container.”

“It’s a bug.”

“It was educational. Besides, didn’t she just learn about butterflies?”

“It was a bug, Wooyoung.”

“It had dreams.” Wooyoung shrugs.

Nari gasps, “You guys are fighting!”

Neither of them answered, which was answer enough for her. Nari smiled, for reasons neither of them understood. Then, she disappears, hopefully to find her lost caterpillar. Yunho returned to cooking, and Wooyoung remained beside him. The calmness felt comfortable, and that’s a problem. Three weeks. Three weeks of park visits, movie nights, school pickup, and bedtime stories. Three weeks of watching Nari become attached and watching Wooyoung show up every day. Three weeks of watching himself lower his guard a dangerous amount.

Wooyoung leans against the counter, “You forgot the salt.”

Yunho looks down, “damn.”

“I got it.”

Their hands brush as they reach for the container at the same time. The contact lasted less than a second, but they both pulled back fast. The kitchen grew warmer, and Yunho hated it. Wooyoung looks away first. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

Neither sounded fine. Thankfully, Nari returned before the awkwardness could continue. She’s holding a leaf, “the criminal escaped.”

Yunho nods solemnly, “A tragedy.”

“The worst.”

Nari climbed on a chair, entirely oblivious to the moment she’d interrupted that her parents were trying to ignore.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The real problem started later that week. It happened during pickup. Nothing dramatic, nothing obvious. Just a small moment. The kind that sneaks up on you and surprises you. Yunho arrives a few minutes early, as usual. Inside the classroom, the children are everywhere. Parents are chatting, teachers smile, and the usual preschooler chaos.

Then, Nari spots him through the window and lights up, “Daddy!”

Yunho smiles. Before he can wave, Nari turns, grabbing Wooyoung’s hand, and dragging him towards the door. Yunho had forgotten that Wooyoung was meeting them here today. Nari’s teacher smiles.

“Oh, good.” She looks between them. “Nari talks about both of you constantly.” Something tightens in Yunho’s chest. “She’s very proud of her parents.”

Parents. Plural. The word hit the two adults. Nari didn’t notice. She was busy showing off her glitter-covered art project, but Yunho saw the way Wooyoung looked down. He saw his eyes immediately grow suspiciously shiny. Because he heard it, too. Parents. As if he’d always been there and hadn’t missed four years. As if he’d earned the title.

And somehow, despite everything, part of Yunho thought maybe he was starting to. That realization scared him more than anything.

That night, Nari fell asleep halfway through a story, curled between her mountain of stuffed animals, one hand clutching Foxy and the other wrapped around Wooyoung’s hand. She hadn’t realized she had done it; sleep had simply claimed her. Wooyoung sat completely still, afraid to move. Yunho stood in the doorway, watching. For a moment, neither of them spoke. They didn’t want to break the spell. Eventually, Wooyoung untangled himself and pulled the blanket over Nari, and followed Yunho into the hallway.

The apartment appeared peaceful. The kind of peace Yunho hadn’t experienced in years, and that awareness bothered him. Because he knew exactly why.

Wooyoung noticed, “You’ve been staring at me all week.”

Yunho just about choked, “What?”

“You have.”

“I have not.”

“You absolutely have.”

Yunho looked offended, and Wooyoung was amused, which was irritating. He always won in their ‘arguments’.

“I stare at everyone.”

“Sure, Yun.” Wooyoung smiles, “You specifically stare at me.”

Yunho regretted every life choice that had led him here. Wooyoung’s smile fades, just slightly. “I think you’re waiting.”

The words were quiet. Yunho looks away because Wooyoung was right. He was waiting. Waiting on the other shoe to drop, for the disappointment, for the abandonment. He was waiting for history to repeat itself. Three weeks wasn’t enough, not after four years.

“I don’t know how to trust you.” The confession slipped out before he could stop it. Wooyoung’s expression softens, “happy?”

“No,” Wooyoung shakes his head, “because that’s my fault.”

Silence settles between them, gentle this time. Just honest.

“I keep expecting you to leave.”

The words hurt, mostly because they’re true. Every morning and every night, every time Wooyoung is late, every time he leaves the apartment, a tiny voice in Yunho’s head is saying, ‘This is it. He’s gone. Again.’

Wooyoung stares at the floor and nods. “I know.”

The answer should frustrate him, but instead it makes his heartache. Because Wooyoung does know. He wasn’t making excuses and wasn’t defending himself. He’s accepting the damage he’d caused.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being scared,” Yunho admits quietly.

Wooyoung looks up, and their eyes meet. For the first time in weeks, neither of them looks away. “You know what’s funny?” Wooyoung asks softly.

“What?”

“I’m scared, too.”

Yunho frowns, “Of what?”

A sad smile appears, “that one day you’ll wake up and realize that trying was a mistake.”

The answer stole Yunho’s breath. He’d never considered it. He never considered that Wooyoung might be scared, too. Terrified of losing them all over again. Scared that no matter how hard he tries, four years would always be too much.

The distance between them feels smaller. Not gone, just smaller. For one brief second, Yunho saw the life they might have had. The life they lost. The life that maybe, maybe, could still exist.

Then, Nari’s voice echoes from her bedroom, “DADDY!” Loud, sleepy, and confused.

Both men jump and, without thinking, take off towards Nari’s room together.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Mingi knew something was wrong almost instantly. Mostly because Yunho had been staring at his latte and stirring it for nearly ten minutes without saying anything or drinking it. Frankly, it was concerning.

“Alright.” Mingi leaned back into his chair. “Who died?”

Yunho blinked, “What?”

“You’ve been making eye contact with that latte for an uncomfortable amount of time.”

Yunho looked down, “Oh.”

“Talk.”

Yunho sighs. The kind of sigh that suggested several existential crises were occurring. Mingi almost regretted asking. But then again, he wanted to know. Daehyun is sick, and Jongho had to stay home with him, so Mingi promised to get every detail he could and tell him later.

“I think I’m in trouble?”

Mingi’s eyes narrow, “Financially?”

“No.”

“Legally?”

“No.”

“That’s good, Jongho wouldn’t like it if I had to bail you out of something.” Mingi relaxes, but catches Yunho’s eye and pauses. “Wait.” Yunho looks away quickly, “Oh no.”

Yunho groans, “Oh, yes.”

Mingi dropped his head onto the back of his chair, “No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Unfortunately.”

Mingi looks personally offended, “You’re falling for him again.” Yunho doesn’t answer, but Mingi doesn’t need him to. “He’s already ruined your life once.”

“I know.”

“You’re consciously making this decision.”

Yunho frowns, “I don’t think feelings work like that.”

Mingi points at him, “That is exactly the kind of nonsense people say before making a terrible decision.”

Yunho laughs despite himself. The sound surprised both of them, because lately he’s been laughing more. He knows why, which is part of the problem. Three weeks ago, seeing Wooyoung made him angry. Now, he looks forward to hearing the front door open, to their dinner conversations, to seeing Nari tackle him into a hug every afternoon, and to hearing Wooyoung laugh. That last one bothered him the most.

Mingi watched realization spread across Yunho’s face. “Oh, you’re in deep.”

“Thanks.”

“No, you don’t understand.” He looks genuinely concerned, “You still love him?”

The words land heavily. Yunho stares at the table, unable to deny it, but also not able to admit it. Mingi sighs, “Be careful.” Yunho looks up, the teasing gone, and only concern remains. “You don’t owe him your heart just because he’s trying.”

The words settle somewhere deep inside Yunho, because that was the truth. Trying mattered. It doesn’t erase the past, and yet every day Wooyoung stayed. He kept every promise he made, reads Nari every bedtime story, has started picking her up from school, and every tiny moment matters. It’s becoming harder to remember what life looked like before Wooyoung came back.

Back at the apartment, the front door opened unannounced, and chaos followed.

“Uncle Joongie!”

Hongjoong barely had time to step inside before Nari was launching herself at him. He caught her, like he’d done a hundred times before, spinning her around in a tight hug. “Hello to you too.”

Nari wraps herself around him, “I missed you!”

Hongjoong smiles, “I just saw you three days ago.”

“That’s forever!”

Hongjoong nods seriously, “You’re right. My mistake.”

Wooyoung laughs from the kitchen. A sound Hongjoong hadn’t heard enough of in the past four years. One he didn’t take for granted now. His eyes find his younger brothers. There’s still guilt there, still sadness and healing, but there was something else there now. Hope. Hongjoong hadn’t seen hope in Wooyoung in a long time. He crosses the room, pulling him into a brief hug, the kind of hug brothers don’t talk about. The kind that silently said, ‘You’re an idiot. I love you. Don’t screw this up.’

Wooyoung seemed to understand all three messages. “It’s good to see you.”

Hongjoong smiled, “You, too.” Then he’s pulling away and smacking Wooyoung’s head. “Don’t ever disappear like that again!”

“I don’t plan on it.”

Hongjoong had been there through everything. When Wooyoung disappeared, when Yunho was falling apart. He had been there when Nari was born and was one of the first people they had let hold her. When birthdays came and went, he was there. When holidays felt incomplete, he was there. Hongjoong never picked a side, never demanded forgiveness, or defended what Wooyoung did; he simply stayed. For everyone. Hongjoong is someone Nari adores.

Later that evening, Hongjoong is sitting on the floor while Nari forces him to attend a tea party involving dinosaur plushies, and her cherished stuffed fox, a gift from her Uncle Hongjoong, the main reason she loves it so much. Wooyoung watches from the couch, smiling.

Hongjoong caught his stare going from him, to the clock, and then the door. A slow grin spreads across his face, and Wooyoung becomes suspicious. “No.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You have that look on your face.”

Hongjoong shrugs innocently, “What face?”

“The one that says you’re about to ruin my life.”

Hongjoong looks delighted, and Wooyoung sinks into the couch.

Half an hour later, Yunho walks through the front door, exhausted from his meeting with Mingi and work. He’s greeted by Nari, flinging herself at his legs before she’s bouncing on her toes, “Daddy, we have plans!”

Yunho frowns, mentally running through his calendar. He doesn’t remember making any plans with her, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. There have been plenty of times when she asks him a question when he’s half asleep, and he says yes, and she holds it against him. “We do?”

“Actually,” Hongjoong stands, his smile growing, “you and Wooyoung do.”

“What?”

“Nari and I decided to have a sleepover.”

“No, you’re not.” Yunho looks at Hongjoong like he’s lost it, then to his daughter. She has her backpack on, which means she’s already packed. “Nari.”

“Sorry, daddy. Foxy is already packed.”

Wooyoung looks equally confused, “Joong.”

“Nope.” Hongjoong picks up Nari and moves towards the door. “Have fun!”

“What fun?”

Hongjoong turns once he’s at the door, “The two of you haven’t had any alone time together.” Then, he’s gone. Taking Nari with him.

Is this kidnapping? Doesn’t Yunho get a say in this?

Yunho and Wooyoung both stare at where Hongjoong had been, neither of them moving. Then, at the same time, they say, “This isn’t a date.”

Then, more quietly, Yunho says to himself, “It’s absolutely a date.”

____________

They find themselves sitting across from each other at a restaurant. Apparently, staying home had been more awkward than going out. Conversation flowed more easily than expected. It was easy. They talked about everything from work to Nari to preschool drama, some of the parents, and the caterpillar incident. At one point, Yunho laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink.
The moment made them both freeze. It felt familiar. Like slipping into an old sweater. It felt comfortable and natural.

By the time they wandered outside, the sun had already set. Streetlights were illuminating the sidewalk, and the city was quiet. They didn’t seem eager to go home, wanting to keep spending time together without admiring it. They eventually ended up by the river, stopping to stand side by side and take in the view.
Wooyoung broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper, “I still love you.” Yunho tenses. No warning or buildup, just pure honesty. The words hang between them. Yunho laughs nervously, “I probably shouldn’t have -“

“No, it’s fine.” Yunho’s voice came out quietly. Wooyoung snapped his mouth shut. Yunho looked out over the water, heart pounding. He was terrified. He had spent weeks avoiding the truth. He spent weeks pretending it wasn’t happening. Denying it wasn’t going to make it disappear. “I still love you, too.”

The confession felt like slipping off a cliff. Silence follows. Wooyoung looked devastated, then relieved, hopeful, heartbroken, all at once.

“But,” the word changes everything. Yunho swallows. “I don’t know if that’s enough.”

The honesty hurts. Love wasn’t a problem; love had never been the problem. Trust and fear were. The four years Wooyoung was gone were. Wooyoung nods slowly, his eyes shining. “I get it.”

Yunho looks at him, really looks at him. The man he’s loved since he was fourteen. The man he’d lost. The man standing in front of him is trying every day. “I don’t know what happens next.”

Wooyoung smiles sadly, “I don’t either.”

For the first time, neither of them pretends to have an answer. And that felt more honest than anything they’ve said before.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦
Two months later

Yunho gets a call at exactly 2:17 PM on a random Tuesday. He almost doesn’t answer, too focused on the work in front of him. He was halfway through a project, trying to balance three conversations at once, and wanted to have it done before his lunch became his dinner.

The called ID shows Wooyoung, and a smile almost appears. Lately, seeing Wooyoung’s name on his phone isn’t unusual anymore. Wooyoung sends him texts about Nari, photos from the park, questions about dinner, and the occasional ridiculous pictures of Nari asleep in the most uncomfortable-looking positions.

Yunho answers without thinking. “Hey.”

“Yunho.”

Time freezes. The tone of Wooyoung’s voice turned Yunho’s blood cold. He sounds scared. The kind that made every nerve in his body wake up. He stood so fast his chair nearly tipped over. He started packing his things without thought, ready to rush to him. “What happened?”

There was a moment of silence. Not because Wooyoung didn’t want to answer, but because he was trying not to panic himself. “Nari fell.”

The room tilted, “What?”

“We were at the playground.”

Yunho was already grabbing his keys, heading out the door, and imagining the worst. “Is she okay?”

Another pause. The longest pause of Yunho’s life. “I think she broke her arm.”

For one long second, Yunho forgot how to breathe.

The drive to the hospital was a blur. He’s not entirely sure he didn’t run any red lights. There was traffic, car horns, and nothing felt real. His hands shook against the steering wheel, and his chest hurt. Every terrible possibility raced through his head. Was she conscious? Is she scared? Is she crying? Did she hit her head? Concussions? The questions came too fast for him to stop them. He called Wooyoung twice and got no answer. He called again, but still nothing. It only made everything worse.

As soon as he was parked and out of his car, he was running. He ignored the receptionist’s attempt to stop him. He was ignoring everything except one question: where was his daughter?
The pediatric emergency department wasn’t hard to find, and then he heard Nari before he could see her. A familiar sniffle, tiny hiccuping sobs, the sound shattering his heart.

“Nari.”

Her head snapped up, “Daddy!”

The relief on her face almost brought him to his knees. He crossed the room in seconds, dropping beside her. He checked everything. Her face, legs, and shoulders. He was looking for injuries, blood, anything. Nari bursts into tears again. The kind that happens when children finally see their safe person. Yunho carefully gathered her into his arms, ignoring the small cast around her left arm.

She’s here, she’s alive, and she’s breathing.

“Hey,” his voice shakes, “you’re okay.”

Nari buries her face in his shoulder. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby.”

“I didn’t mean to fall.” Her voice is quiet.

“I know.”

“The slide was mean.”

Yunho almost laughs. “The slide was very mean.”

Nari nodded against his chest, satisfied with the confirmation. Only then did Yunho look up and see Wooyoung. He was standing by the door, completely still. Almost like he didn’t think he deserved to come any closer. Yunho’s chest ached. Wooyoung looked awful. He’s pale, and his eyes are red from crying, his hands are trembling, like he’d been holding himself together by sheer force of will. The moment their eyes met, Wooyoung looked away. Guilt, shame, and fear were written all over his face. Yunho knew exactly what Wooyoung was thinking: that he was mad at him.

After the doctor confirmed that everything was okay except for a clean fracture, Nari relaxed. The cast was bright pink. She spent ten minutes asking if she could use the cast to hit people; the answer had been no several times. She finally became distracted by the stickers, cartoons, and snacks that were in the room.

Yunho couldn’t stop noticing Wooyoung. The way he hovered near the doorway and wouldn’t sit down. He hadn’t said anything, almost like he was waiting for judgment. It took another hour before Nari drifted into a nap, her pink cast resting on her stomach.

Yunho finally stood, walking directly towards Wooyoung. He looked more terrified by the second. “Yunho,” the apologies started coming out. “I should have caught her.”

There was the guilt. The self-hatred. The blame.

“I was right there. She slipped and -“ Wooyoung’s voice cracks, “I wasn’t fast enough.”

Yunho stares at him, listening. It made Wooyoung more nervous, “I should have been paying more attention.”

“You were.” Wooyoung blinks, confused, and Yunho continues. “I know you were.”

“I wasn’t.” His answer comes out quicker, more desperate. Blaming himself seemed the safer, easier route.

“I should’ve-“

“Wooyoung.” The younger stops talking. Yunho takes a deep breath. There was something important he needed Wooyoung to understand. Something bigger than this moment or a broken arm. “Kids get hurt.”

The words hang in the air. Wooyoung stares, not comprehending. Yunho continues, “When Nari was two, she fell off the couch.”

“What?”

“I looked away for three seconds. She tried to jump into a laundry basket and missed.” A laugh slips out, “completely.”

Wooyoung looks horrified.

“She was fine.”

“Yunho.”

“When she was three, she went to some claw arcade with Mingi, Jongho, and Daehyun. She got stuck in a claw machine.”

“How?”

Yunho shrugs, “Mingi hasn’t spilled how it happened.”

“You’re lying.”

“There are witnesses.” Wooyoung smiles, “My point is, she’s a kid.”

The smile disappears just as quickly as it had come. He understands, “she broke her arm.”

“Not because you’re a bad parent.” The words hit Wooyoung hard. Parent. Not a babysitter. Not a visitor. Parent. Yunho watched every emotion flick across his face. “I trusted you with her, and I still do.”

Wooyoung looked like he might cry, and when he looked away, it confirmed he probably was.

A tiny sleepy voice interrupts them, “Daddy?” Both men turn towards her. Nari blinks awake, groggy and a little confused, but smiles when she sees Wooyoung. “You’re both here.”

The simple statement landed heavily. She sounded relieved, safe, and so certain. Why wouldn’t they both be there? Yunho looked at Wooyoung, who was already looking back. Something quiet passed between them, an understanding. The kind that doesn’t need words. For the first time since Wooyoung returned, they weren’t thinking about the past. They were only thinking about the little girl in the hospital bed. The little girl who trusted both of them to stay.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The cast lasted six weeks. According to Nari, this was excellent news. To Yunho, it was six weeks of stress. To Wooyoung, it was six weeks of discovering that a four-year-old with a broken arm has become more dangerous. Nobody understood how; it simply happened.
One afternoon, Yunho came home to find Nari using her cast to knock over her tower of blocks.

“Baby.”

WHACK. Another tower down.

“Nari.”

WHACK. Another one.

“Are you using your arm as a weapon?”

“No.”

WHACK.

Yunho looked to Wooyoung, who was sitting on the couch. He was repressing a smile, and Yunho only shook his head. Nari grinned, absolutely using her cast as a weapon.

The weeks after the hospital passed surprisingly fast. Somewhere along the way, something shifted. They couldn’t pinpoint when, maybe it was in the ER, or maybe it was afterward during one of the many follow-up appointments. But things felt different. Yunho found himself calling Wooyoung more often, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Questions about groceries became conversations. Phone calls that used to be four minutes were now forty. One time on a FaceTime call, Mingi caught him smiling at a text, and he decided to grill him.

The interrogation had been brutal.

“You just smiled.”
“I did not.”

“Yes, you did, I saw you.”

“You’re lying.”

“You used the smile.”

“What smile?”

“The stupid one.”

Yunho hung up on him, but Mingi called him right back.

The biggest change wasn’t between Wooyoung and Yunho. It was Nari. She had become very attached to Wooyoung. The first sign appeared during bedtime.

“Daddy?”

“Hm?”

Nari looked up from beneath her blanket.

“Can mommy read tonight?”

Yunho paused. Not because the request was unreasonable, but because it was the first time she had specifically asked for Wooyoung. Not for both of them. Not for whoever was available. Just Wooyoung. The realization hit them at the same time, but Nari didn’t notice. She was too busy arranging her stuffed animals by rank.

“Sure, baby.” Yunho smiles. “If mommy wants to.”

Nari looks towards Wooyoung. The look on her face suggested she couldn’t ever imagine a universe where the answer would be no. And honestly? Neither could Wooyoung. “Of course.”

Then came the school pickups. Yunho arrived ten minutes early, only to discover Nari already standing at the gate, holding her teacher's hand and pouting. A dangerous sign. The second she spotted him, her face brightened, but fell just as quickly. “Where’s mommy?”

“What?”

“Where’s mommy?”



The teacher smiles sympathetically. “She’s been asking all afternoon.”

Wonderful. Yunho looks down at his daughter, “Mommy had work today.”

Nari frowns, “Oh.”

The disappointment was obvious and genuine. Something inside Yunho twisted. Not painfully, just strange. For years, he had been enough. He had been Nari’s entire world. Now her world is expanding, and although a part of him mourns it, a bigger part is relieved. Nari finally had what she always deserved.

Three days later, Nari was woken up by a nightmare. It wasn’t unusual, unfortunately. The unusual part came afterward. Yunho carried her to the living room, wrapped in a blanket. She was sleepy and miserable. The kind of sad only four-year-olds could be. Everything was dramatic and catastrophic.

“My dream was bad.”

“Tell me about it.”

“There was a giant octopus, and it stole Foxy.”

Yunho gasps, “The monster.”

Nari nodded solemnly, then she said, “I want mommy.”

The words caught Yunho off guard. They weren’t wrong; they were natural. It was like she had been asking for Wooyoung her entire life. The thought made Yunho ache in a good and painful way at the same time. Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone. Five minutes later, the apartment door opened. Wooyoung had clearly come straight from bed. His hair was a disaster, he was in sweatpants, and he hadn’t even put on socks.

Nari launched herself into his arms the second she saw him. She began telling him about the dream, and Wooyoung listened with the seriousness of a hostage negotiator. By the end of it, the octopus had been arrested, and justice had prevailed. Wooyoung and Nari ended up falling asleep on the couch that night, and Yunho didn’t have the heart to wake them.

The only problem was that moments like these kept happening. Every time they did, Yunho’s walls slipped down a little further. One evening, he found himself asleep on the couch, exhausted after a long work week. The TV was still playing quietly, and the apartment was dark.

He woke sometime late, disoriented, warm, and comfortable. For a few seconds, he couldn’t figure out why, but then he looked down. Nari was curled against one side, fast asleep, and Wooyoung was asleep on the other. The three of them were all victims of the movie night.

Yunho stared, the scene hitting harder than it should have. It felt so normal. Not temporary or fragile, but normal. Like they’d been doing this forever. He ached, not with fear this time, but with longing. For all the years they’d lost, for every missed bedtime, movie night, and every missed moment. Yunho looked at Wooyoung, at the peaceful expression on his face, at the arm draped over Nari, and Yunho thought to himself that the future feels a lot less frightening than the past.

Later that week, the cast came off. Nari celebrated like she’d won the lottery. There were cupcakes, balloons, and a truly insane amount of glitter. Hongjoong arrived with his other half, Seonghwa, who Nari nearly tackled. Mingi, Jongho, and Daehyun came. Even Wooyoung’s best friend, who Yunho hadn’t seen since Nari was born, came with his boyfriend, San. Their apartment became chaotic, as expected.

Nari stood on a chair, looking around at all the people she loves, and announced: “All my family is here!”

The room went silent, just for a second. Kids never understand the weight of what they say. Nari smiled, unaware but happy. Her eyes moved around the room, looking at all her favorite people. Her eyes were glued to Wooyoung, her smile growing, “My family.”

Yunho looked across the room, finding Wooyoung already staring back at him. Neither of them smiled, and neither of them looked away. In that crowded room, surrounded by people who had stayed and those who had left and come back, both of them realized the same thing. They aren’t trying to rebuild what they’d had before; that version of them was gone, and too much had happened. Instead, they were building something new, fragile, and imperfect. Something worth protecting.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The questions arrive on a Tuesday. As most life-changing moments apparently do. Without warning, without preparation, and usually while someone was eating macaroni. Nari sat at the kitchen table, covered in cheese sauce. Yunho sat across from her, finishing his dinner, and Wooyoung was standing at the sink washing dishes. Everything was going normally, which is why no one saw Nari’s question coming.

“Mommy, why don’t you live here?”

Nari looks between them, waiting. Wooyoung nearly dropped the plate, and Yunho choked on his drink. The little girl stared at them, confused. From her prospecting, it made perfect sense. Wooyoung was here almost every day. He made them breakfast, dinner, and he was there for movie night, school pickups, and bedtime stops. He’s present for everything. So why doesn’t he live with them?

Neither of them knew how to answer, so Yunho did what he knew best. Distract his daughter, “Nari, let’s name your noodles.”

Nari gasps like it’s the best idea she’s ever heard, and starts giving each one a new and different name.

The question doesn’t leave, though. It lingers, always at the forefront of Yunho’s mind. It was following him around, echoing in his thoughts. It was a simple question and one he couldn’t stop thinking about, because lately the apartment has felt strange without Wooyoung. It’s too quiet, too empty, and too large. Yunho would find himself looking towards the couch, expecting to see him sitting there or expecting to hear his laughter from the kitchen. Every time he realized Wooyoung wasn’t there, something inside him felt disappointed. The realization was becoming impossible to ignore, and the truth was simple. He wanted Wooyoung there. Not just for Nari, but for him, too.

A week later, Yunho finds himself standing in front of the spare room. The door had remained closed for years because he used it as a storage room. As the place where he stuck everything that reminded him of Wooyoung. It was full of boxes and old furniture, baby clothes he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of. It was a physical representation of everything he’s avoided dealing with.

Now, it looks completely different. The boxes are gone, the furniture has been rearranged, and fresh sheets have been put on the bed. A lamp that Nari chose was beside it, and a new bookshelf and dresser were added. It looked simple, but comfortable. Yunho spent two weeks preparing it, without admitting why.

That evening, Hongjoong came over and announced he was taking Nari for another sleepover. Which was suspicious, especially because he looked too pleased with himself when he picked her up. Wooyoung chose peace over investigation for his own sanity. The apartment was unusually quiet after she left.

Wooyoung lingered in the kitchen, helping him clean up after dinner. The dishes were finished, and the counters were wiped clean. Yunho took a deep breath. “Can I show you something?”

Wooyoung glanced up, “Sure.”

Yunho regretted speaking. This is stupid. He’s a grown adult. Why is he nervous? The answer is obvious. This matters. He leads Wooyoung down the hallway, past Nari’s room, towards the spare room.
Wooyoung frowns, “I didn’t know you used this room.”

“I didn’t.”

Yunho opens the door and lets Wooyoung step inside. The room is warm and inviting. It’s been turned into a bedroom instead of a storage room. Yunho watched understanding spread across Wooyoung’s face, followed by disbelief. “Yunho.” His voice was just barely above a whisper.

Yunho suddenly finds the floor fascinating, “I cleaned it out.”

The response almost makes Wooyoung laugh. Instead, he stares. At the bed, the dresser, the shelves, all the evidence of weeks of effort Yunho had put in. “Why?”

The question was soft. Yunho takes a breath, forcing himself to answer honestly. For once, no hiding or pretending. “Because I want you here.” The words settle between them. Heavy and real. Wooyoung looks stunned, and Yunho continues before he loses his nerve. “I know we’re not together…” His voice falters. “We’re not together.” The words hurt more than expected. “But, you’re family.”

Wooyoung closes his eyes as if the statement physically hurt.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Yunho continues nervously, “Nari would chain you to the apartment if she could.” That earns a weak smile. “She’s attached. She’s your daughter.”

The words slip out naturally and effortlessly. It made them both emotional, “I trust you.” Four years ago, those words would’ve been easy and held little weight. Now? They meant everything. “I trust you.” The second time he says it, it comes out more certain.

Wooyoung looks away, “You shouldn’t.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t trust me.” The answer came out too quickly. Like he still carried every mistake inside his chest.

“That’s not your decision.”

Wooyoung laughs, “It should be.”

“No.” The repose is firm. Certain. “Because trust isn’t something you’re demanding. It’s something you’ve earned.”
Yunho meets his eye, and Wooyoung looks devastated. He doesn’t know what to do with Yunho’s kindness, not after carrying guilt for so long. “You made breakfast and picked Nari up from school.” He steps closer, “You sit through cartoons, you know every stuffed animal's name.”

Wooyoung groans, “There are so many.”

“There are.” They both laugh, but it quickly fades, leaving only honesty. Only truth, the one thing they’ve both been avoiding. “I love you.”

The words slipped out before Yunho could stop them. This wasn’t the first confession; they’d already admitted their feelings still existed, but this is different. This isn’t remembering or nostalgia, this isn’t mourning what they’d lost. This is the present tense. Real. Yunho looks directly at him, “I still love you, and maybe that’s stupid.”

A sad smile appears, “probably.”

“Definitely.” That earned a watery laugh, and Yunho continues, “but I don’t want to keep pretending it isn’t true.”

The tears appear in Wooyoung’s eyes, sliding down his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

The answer broke something open. Something that had been locked away for years. It’s not fixed, and they’re not healed. They’re both ready to be open and honest. Wooyoung looks around the room again, at the space that Yunho had prepared for him. At the invitation to move in, at the trust and the future being offered to him. It’s a future he never thought he’d deserve.

“Are you sure?” The question comes out in a whisper.

Yunho looks at him, really looks at him. The man who had broken his heart but had come back. The man who has spent months proving that he intends to stay. “No.” The answer surprises them both. Yunho laughs softly. “I’m terrified.”

Wooyoung laughs, too. Relief mixed with the tears. “Good.”

“What?”

“I’m terrified, too.”

The fear doesn’t feel like a warning. It feels more like hope. Messy, complicated, and fragile hope. Yunho smiles, then points into the room, “Just so we’re clear, Nari picked out the lamp, and it's very pink.”

Wooyoung covers his face with a laugh, “I’d expect nothing less.”

It was a real laugh, one Yunho hasn’t heard in years. Between fear and forgiveness, love and possibility, both realized something important. Coming home wasn’t a single moment. It wasn’t opening a door, or moving into a room, or saying the right thing. It was choosing to stay again and again and again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Nari finds out on a Saturday morning. Which, in hindsight, was a mistake. Giving a four-year-old exciting news before breakfast should probably be illegal.

“Mommy’s moving in.”

Nari blinks. Once. Twice. Three times. Yunho recognizes the expression. It was the same one she gets right before doing something.

“Oh no.”

Wooyoung looks concerned, “What?”

“Nari-“

Too late.

“WHAT?” The scream echoes through the apartment. Their upstairs neighbor drops something. Nari launches herself off the couch, “REALLY?”

“Indoor voice,” Yunho says automatically.

She ignores him, “REALLY? REALLY?”

Wooyoung laughs, unable to stop himself. “Yeah. I’ll be here all the time now.”

That was all it took. Nari exploded and started running laps around the living room at full speed. “Mommy’s moving in! Mommy’s moving in! Mommy’s moving in!”

Yunho watches her race past him and looks to Wooyoung, “This is your fault.”

“What? How?”

“You encouraged her.”

“I answered her question.”

“You knew this would happen.”

“I absolutely did not.”

Nari sprints past again, “This is the best day of my life!”

Wooyoung and Yunho exchange a look before they start laughing.

Three days after the move, Yunho met up with Yeosang for coffee. He regretted it as soon as he sat down, because Yeosang knew. Of course, he does. No one knows how he gets his information, but he’s full of everyone's secrets and gossip.

He takes one look at Yunho and says, “Wooyoung is moving in.”

Not a question, but a statement. Yunho sighs, “Hello to you too, Sangie.”

Yeosang smiles, “How are you feeling?”

The question caught Yunho off guard. It wasn’t teasing or judgmental, just genuine curiosity. Yunho stared down at his coffee, thinking. The answer isn’t simple. He doesn’t think that anything about their situation is simple. “I’m scared.”

Yeosang nods, the answer not surprising. “And?”

Yunho couldn’t fight the smile even if he tried, “I’m happy.”

The truth. Simple, terrifying, and wonderful. Yeosang leans back, observing him carefully. “You know, I hated him.”

Yunho looks up, the confession surprising him. When Wooyoung left, he didn’t just leave him and Nari. He left everyone. Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Mingi, and Jongho. But most importantly, he had left behind Yeosang. Someone who had been in his life since he was born. Wooyoung wasn’t only trying to make up with Yunho, but also with Yeosang. For the years of pain he caused his best friend.

Yunho swallows, “I know.”

Yeosang shakes his head, “You don’t.” A sad smile appears, “I really hated him, but missed him so much at the same time. He just up and left us, you know? Watching you struggle and Nari growing up without him… I wanted to forgive him, to try and understand why he did what he did, but then I’d see what it did to you…”

Yeosang trails off, and Yunho understands. He remembers all the sleepless nights, loneliness, and exhaustion. The toll it had taken on him trying to be both parents. Yeosang’s smile is small, thoughtful, “but then he came back. He didn’t ask for anything; he just started showing up. Every day.”

Yunho does understand. There was no grand gesture or any promises. The thing Wooyoung had failed at once, and spent months proving he could do now, was show up.

Yeosang looks directly at him, “Do I think he deserves a second chance?” He shrugs, “I don’t know. But I do know that he loves you and you love him. So stop looking at him like somebody’s going to take him away.”

Yunho sputters, “What?”

Yeosang nods, “You do.”

Yunho refuses to discuss it any further. He’s not sure what Yeosang means, but a part of him wants to. He’s scared that Wooyoung is going to change his mind on them, despite how much he’s done for them since coming back. Does that make up for the four years he was gone?

____________

Hongjoong sits on the floor in Wooyoung’s new room, surrounded by half unpacked boxes. He watches his younger brother struggle with a bookshelf, and the bookshelf is winning.

“Need help?”

“No.”

The shelf collapsed. The brothers stare at it, and Hongjoong glances at Wooyoung. “Need help?”

“… Maybe.”

Twenty minutes later, the shelf was assembled. Hongjoong sat back and looked around the room. This room was prepared specifically for his brother. The significance isn’t lost on either of them.

“Are you happy?”

The question comes out quietly. Wooyoung doesn’t answer right away, choosing to look around instead. The shelves Yunho had bought him in case he had books or trinkets he wanted to display. The bed with the fresh sheets, the lamp Nari had picked. A small smile graces his lips, “yeah. I am.”

Hongjoong smiles too. It’s been a long time since he’s heard that answer, and while he knows Wooyoung was in the wrong for leaving, he does think he deserves his happy ending.

Then, Wooyoung surprises him by saying something else. “I want more.”

“What do you mean?”

“I want…” Wooyoung looks down and away from Hongjoong, “This is embarrassing.”

“Excellent.” Hongjoong settles in, sitting back on his hands. “Continue.”

Wooyoung groans. Pretending he wasn’t going to say anything is pointless when he knows Hongjoong already knows what he was going to say. “I want us to be together.” Hongjoong doesn’t tease him or interrupt, “I don’t mean living together, I mean together. Back together. I miss him.”

The words carried years of longing. Years of regret. It was years of love that never disappeared. “Even when he’s right down the hall.”

Hongjoong smiles sadly. If anyone could understand, it’s him. “You should tell him.”

Wooyoung laughs, “Absolutely not. You’re insane.”

Life has other plans. Later that night, after Nari is fast asleep, Yunho finds Wooyoung sitting out on the balcony. The city lights twinkled, soft and distant. The air was cool and comfortable, his favorite kind. Yunho sits close next to him. Not touching, but close.

The silence is familiar and comfortable. A far cry from what it was just a few months ago.

“Yeosang threatened me today.”

Wooyoung laughs, “That sounds right.”

“He likes you now.” The statement surprised them both.

Wooyoung looks down, “That’s nice.”

Yunho studies him. His soft expression and tired smile. The person he’d spent months relearning, months falling for all over again. Something inside him settles. A quiet certainty. Not that everything was fixed or that their past had disappeared, just certainty that this, whatever this is, is worth the risk.

“Woo.”

Wooyoung looks up, the nickname making his heart race. Yunho hadn’t used it in months. He hasn’t heard it since before he left. Their eyes meet, and neither can look away. The city disappeared, the noise disappeared, and everything around them disappeared. Except for them. Yunho’s heart is pounding.

Wooyoung looks equally overwhelmed, “hi.” His response was barely a whisper.

Yunho laughs softly, “Hi.”

They don’t move. The space between them feels small but somehow too large at the same time. Then, Wooyoung reaches for him, slowly. He gives Yunho every opportunity to pull away, but he doesn’t. For a second, their foreheads touched first. Gentle and tentative. It’s a question, and Yunho answers it by closing the distance.

Finally.

The kiss was soft and careful. They didn’t want to rush it, just relearning again. Finding each other again. When they finally pull apart, neither backs away. They’re both smiling, both emotional, and both are a little stunned.

“Wow.” Wooyoung’s voice cracks.

Yunho laughs, a real, genuine laugh, “yeah.”

Silence. Warm and happy this time. Yunho was leaning over to kiss him again when the balcony door slid open. They jump apart, looking towards the door. Nari stands there, half asleep, hair wild, holding Foxy. “What are you doing?”

Yunho and Wooyoung stare at her. Panicked and speechless. Nari narrows her eyes and then yawns. “Never mind, goodnight.”

The door shuts. Yunho and Wooyoung look at each other before they both start laughing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As it turns out, being in love again is a lot less dramatic than either Yunho or Wooyoung expected. And much more awkward. The first morning after their kiss, Yunho walked into the kitchen and almost walked right back out. Wooyoung was already there making coffee, like always, except now they’ve kissed.

Which somehow changed everything and nothing at the same time.

“Morning.”

Wooyoung glances up and tries his best to hide how nervous he is. “Good morning.”

Silence. A very stupid and awkward silence. The kind that happens when two grown adults suddenly forget how to have a conversation. Yunho opens the refrigerator, closes it, and opens it again. Wooyoung watches him.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alright.”

Thankfully, Nari walks in at that moment. Her hair is sticking up in every direction, and she’s still half asleep. She pauses, looks between her parents, then narrows her eyes. Yunho feels dread because he knows that look.

“What?”

“You guys are weird.”

“What do you mean weird?”

Wooyoung had busied himself with making Nari a bowl of cereal, almost dropping the spoon when she replied with, “You guys keep looking at each other.”

She sighs, then climbs into a chair and waits for her breakfast.

The real challenge started one week later. Dating is one thing, but parenting together is something completely different. For four years, Yunho had been the one making every decision. Every rule, every bedtime, every consequence, and every routine. Alone. Now, there were two of them. Two parents meant two opinions. Which was how they ended up standing in the toy aisle of a department store.

They were having their first parenting disagreement. Over slime.

“I don’t see a problem.” Wooyoung holds up a brightly colored container.

“The problem is that it’s slime.”

“It’s washable!”

“So they claim.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “It says it right here.”

“It lies.”

Wooyoung laughs, “It’s not sentient.”

“We don’t know that.”

Nari stands between them, watching. She’s fascinated, really. It’s like a tennis match. Back and forth. Back and forth. Finally, she raises her hand to get their attention.

“Yes, baby?” Wooyoung says, ignoring Yunho.

Nari smiles, “You’re both annoying.”

To Yunho’s dismay, the slime was purchased.

The second disagreement happened over bedtime. Nari had discovered that having two parents offered her more opportunities. Specifically, opportunities to manipulate.

“Five more minutes, daddy?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Nari then turns to Wooyoung, putting her best puppy eyes on. “Mommy?”

Wooyoung visibly weakened. Yunho points at him, “Don’t you dare.”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You made a face.”

“I did not.”

“You did, I watched him happen.”

Nari watched with delight, deciding this was better than TV. She watched her parents argue back and forth, but they paused, as if realizing what was happening. They both looked to Nari and said, “Nari.”

The little girl froze. Caught.

“Stop playing us against each other.”

Her gasp was dramatic and offended. And also completely fake. “I would never.”

She absolutely would, and did. Frequently.

Despite the occasional disagreement, something about parenting together felt natural. Not easy, but natural. It was like fitting pieces back together. Different and new pieces, but still pieces that belonged. One Saturday morning, Nari woke up sick. It wasn’t anything serious, just the common cold, but it was enough to make her miserable.

She spent most of the day curled on the couch, wrapped up in blankets, complaining dramatically. “I’m dying.”

“You just have a runny nose.” Wooyoung was sitting beside her, trying not to laugh.

Yunho came back from the kitchen carrying soup. The moment he sat down, Nari leaned into him, but pulled Wooyoung along with her, demanding both her parents. Yunho looked down at her, then to Wooyoung. Their eyes meet, and the moment feels important. It was a first for them. Their first time taking care of Nari being sick together. As a team. It was so wonderfully ordinary, the kind that they had both been missing for years.

Their friends find out three days later that they’re back together. Maybe it was a mistake announcing it to them in groups, and it was definitely a mistake to do it in public, knowing how Mingi could react.

“You did what!?”

All eyes in the restaurant were on them. Yunho sighs. Across from him, Jongho is practically vibrating in excitement. Yeosang looks smug, leaning in to whisper something in San's ear.

Mingi looks betrayed, “I leave you alone for five minutes.”

“It’s been months.”

“Same thing.”

Yunho rubs his temples, “This isn’t helping.”

“No, I need details.”

“No.”

“Yes. Absolutely. Spill right now.”

“No.”

“Did you ask him out?”

“No.”

“Did he ask you out?”

“No.”

“So, what happened!?”

Next to him, Jongho looked far more reasonable. Which was unusual. “I’m happy for you.”

The mood lightens, and Yunho smiles. “Thanks, Jong.”

Jongho shrugs, “I haven’t seen you this happy in years.”

The honesty hits harder than expected, because it’s true. Mingi groans loudly, complaining that he hates it when Jongho is right. San leans in, “How do you think Hongjoong and Seonghwa are taking the news?”

Across town, Hongjoong was having a very different reaction from what Mingi’s was. He’s laughing. Hard. Wooyoung is glaring at him, and Seonghwa is looking between the two like he had missed something.

“Why are you like this?”

Hongjoong took a deep breath. A smile still on his face as he looked at his brother, “I told you.”

“Joongie, don’t.”

“I literally told you. You spent months staring at him, and now look.”

Wooyoung buries his face in his hands. He regrets this. He should have just texted the news to Hongjoong instead of wanting to meet up with him. Hongjoong is still smiling, opening his mouth to tease him some more, but Seonghwa jumps in. “You look happy.”

Wooyoung doesn’t think anyone has said that to him before. Not recently, anyway. He hasn’t heard it in a long time. He looks down, thinking, then smiles. “I am.”

That evening, everyone gathered at their apartment. A tradition that had somehow formed over the past few months. Pizza, movies, too many people, and too much noise. It’s exactly what Nari loves. Halfway through the night, she climbs into Yunho’s lap and reaches for Wooyoung, too. Personal space isn’t optional when it involves Nari. All the adults continue talking around her, but she’s noticing things.

She interrupts by loudly asking, “Why is everyone acting weird?”

They all look at her, confusion on their faces. “What do you mean?” Wooyoung asks.

Nari points to Mingi, “Uncle Mingi keeps smiling at daddy.” She then points to Yeosang, “Uncle Sangie keeps smiling at mommy.” Her gaze and finger land on Hongjoong, “and Uncle Joongie keeps smiling at both of them.”

Hongjoong looks away, trying to contain his laugh. The room erupts into loud laughing and talking, and Nari feels she is the only sane person in the room. Her gaze turns to Yunho, who is looking at Wooyoung. She then looks to Wooyoung, who is looking at Yunho the same way.

“Oh.” The single syllable stopped everyone. Nari’s eyes widen, “Oh! I get it.”

“What?” Yunho asks.

“You like each other.” She says with a big smile.

The room erupts again, Mingi and Yeosang leaning into each other and laughing. Jongho is looking away, trying and failing not to show that he thinks it’s funny. Hongjoong is looking at Seonghwa, pointing at them and talking so fast they can’t understand him.

After everyone had left and Nari was in bed, Yunho found Wooyoung in the hallway. They’re lingering, not ready to head to bed in their separate rooms just yet. “Today was a disaster.”

Wooyoung laughs, “A complete disaster.”

They smile at each other. It’s comfortable now. It’s easy. They aren’t perfect, and it won’t be effortless. Yunho reaches for his hand without thinking, tugging him close. Their future is still uncertain, but they aren’t trying to recreate their past. They’re working together to build something new, making every day feel a little more like hope.

Yunho steps towards his bedroom, pulling Wooyoung along. “Let’s go to bed.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One year later

“Mommy!” The yell echoes through their apartment. Followed by, “Daddy!” Then, “we’re late!”

Yunho looks at the clock, then at the tiny hurricane currently sprinting down the hallway. He looks to the clock again, “We’re thirty minutes early.”

Nari appears around the corner, wearing a birthday crown, a pink dress, and mismatched socks. She has enough excitement to fuel the entire city. “We’re late.”

“We are not.”

“We are!”

Yunho looks to Wooyoung, and Wooyoung shrugs. It’s a silent agreement that this argument with their now five-year-old isn’t worth it. Some battles can’t be won, especially on birthdays. It’s Nari’s fifth birthday, and she’s been awake since five A.M. No one else had, but this detail didn’t stop her. Wooyoung smiles as the two still go back and forth with each other, and glances around their home.

The apartment looked different these days. Family photos cover the walls, school drawings decorate the refrigerator, and tiny shoes are littering the hallway. It’s all evidence that it’s lived in by their small family. One photograph sits framed on a bookshelf. It’s when Nari’s four, standing between Wooyoung and Yunho, all three of them smiling. Hongjoong had taken it after insisting they all stop blinking and moving. Beside it are newer photos. School events, movie nights, beach trips, and everyday moments. The kind that once felt impossible. The kind they no longer take for granted.

____________

Nari’s birthday party is being held at a local park. It was Nari’s choice, because apparently, five-year-olds get to make the decisions. The weather is perfect, the sky is clear, and the playground is already occupied by several excited children.

Mingi and Jongho arrive carrying three gifts, and Daehyun immediately runs off to find Nari. San brought cupcakes, and Yeosang had stopped by to pick up the cake. Hongjoong was filming the entire thing when Seonghwa showed up with more cupcakes, sparking a ten-minute, unnecessary argument between him and San.

Nari was loving every second of this. Everyone's attention was on her, and she was getting to run all over. She raced among friends and family; they played games and ate lots of good food. She was never sitting for longer than thirty seconds. At one point, she even climbed onto one of the picnic tables. A decision that had three of her uncles acting on to get her down.

Yunho stood near the edge of the park, watching and smiling. It was the way parents did when they thought no one was watching. A familiar shoulder bumped gently against his. Wooyoung, of course. Neither of them spoke at first, simply enjoying watching Nari have fun. Their daughter. She’s healthy, happy, and loved. The little girl who had carried them through every difficult chapter of their lives.

“She’s getting so big.” Wooyoung’s voice is soft.

“Tell me about it.”

“She’ll be starting first grade soon.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

Wooyoung smiles, then reaches for his hand without any hesitation or uncertainty. The gesture feels so natural now. A year ago, it would have seemed impossible. But now? Yunho squeezes Wooyoung’s hand. They looked across the playground at this life they’d built together. Not rebuilt, but built. This wasn’t the same family they once had; they were younger then. They were less careful, less appreciative, less honest. This family had survived loss, mistakes, heartbreak, and forgiveness. This version knew exactly how precious some ordinary days could be.

They rejoin everyone just in time for some cake around sunset. It has pink frosting, purple decorations, and an alarming amount of edible glitter. Nari’s influence, obviously. Everyone gathered around, singing to her, but Nari joined in to sing her own birthday song. Very loudly, and very off-key. Nobody stopped her.

When the song ended, she closed her eyes, preparing to make her wish. Everyone watched her smiling and waiting. Nari squeezed her eyes shut tighter, thinking hard. Then, she blew out the candles. The crowd around her cheered and clapped. Wooyoung cut Nari the first piece, and then everyone joined in to grab their own.

Yunho noticed something. Nari was looking unusually emotional. She’s not upset, just thoughtful. The kind of thoughtful kids rarely become. He kneels next to her, “What’d you wish for?”

Nari gasps, appalled. “You can’t tell people!”

“Right.”

“My wish won’t come true!”

“Of course.”

Satisfied, she nods, but then leans in close enough where only he can hear. “I’m gonna tell you anyway.”

Yunho laughs. Nari looks around, at everyone gathered here for her, and smiles. The huge smile that had always made his heart melt. “I wished for this.”

The words take his breath away. He felt like he couldn’t move or speak. Children rarely understood how powerful their words could be, but somehow, Nari always seemed to know. She hugs him quickly, kissing his cheek, and then runs off towards her friends. She’s already distracted, already laughing, leaving Yunho there emotional and speechless, and very aware that he was probably going to cry.

The park slowly started to empty as evening settled. Nari’s friends said goodbye, and the decorations began to be packed away. Soon, only the family was left. Nari was in Wooyoung’s arms, half asleep and clutching Foxy to her chest. It was the perfect ending to her birthday. Hongjoong snapped one final picture for the night, the flash startling everyone.

“Joongie, you did that on purpose.”

“I would never.” Hongjoong smiled, unapologetic.

While Wooyoung was getting ready to berate his brother, he felt Nari shift and look at her uncle. “One more picture, I swear.”

Wooyoung and Yunho say no, but Nari laughs. Hongjoong snaps the picture and smiles at the result. It’s captured all three of them. Nari laughing, Wooyoung smiling at her, and Yunho rolling his eyes at Hongjoong.

That night, after Nari fell asleep and Foxy was tucked safely beside her, Yunho stood in the doorway of her room. He’s watching, the way he always has. The way he probably always will. A hand slipped into his, and a chin hooks on his shoulder. Yunho smiles without looking away. “She’s happy.”

The words come out softer, full of wonder and gratitude. Wooyoung squeezes his hand, “Yeah.”

The silence settles around them, and it’s comfortable, warm, and feels like home. Yunho looks at him. The man he’d loved, lost, forgiven, and chosen. Again and again. The man who had come home and stayed. “I love you.”

The words feel effortless now. Wooyoung smiles, that same smile that had stolen Yunho’s heart all those years ago. The same smile that still could. “I love you, too.”

Together, they look to Nari. Their daughter is their greatest gift. There was nothing left for them to fix, nothing left for them to fear. They only have tomorrow to look forward to, and all the beautiful days ahead.