Good Night, Brother! - Chapter 9.7

Yi Hyeon remained motionless, his face pale but composed. His dark eyes, though slightly damp, gazed steadily at his brother. Finally, he sighed and crouched slightly to give Eunhyun better access to the cut on his forehead.

Eunhyun reached out carefully, his fingers trembling as he dabbed at the blood trailing from Yi Hyeon’s eyebrow. The sharp contrast of red against Yi Hyeon’s fair skin made his heart clench.

“Does it hurt?” Eunhyun asked softly, his voice thick with concern.

“Not really,” Yi Hyeon replied, his tone subdued. “It’s nothing compared to what just happened in there.”

Eunhyun pressed his lips into a tight line and continued cleaning the wound. The air between them grew heavy as the weight of the confrontation settled in. Finally, Yi Hyeon broke the silence.

“They’ll come around, Hyung.”

Eunhyun paused, his hand frozen midair, and looked into Yi Hyeon’s determined eyes. “You’re so sure of that?”

“They have to. They’re our parents. It’s just… a lot for them to process all at once,” Yi Hyeon reasoned, though his own voice wavered slightly, betraying a hint of doubt.

Eunhyun sighed, crumpling the bloodied tissue in his hand. “What if they don’t? What if they never accept this? Us? The baby?”

Yi Hyeon straightened and placed his hands firmly on Eunhyun’s shoulders. His grip was steady, his gaze unwavering. “Then I’ll still be here. For you, for the baby. No matter what.”

The sheer conviction in Yi Hyeon’s voice made Eunhyun’s throat tighten. His eyes stung, and he had to blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling. For a fleeting moment, he let himself believe that perhaps things could work out, that they could carve out their own happiness even if it meant leaving others behind.

“Thanks,” Eunhyun muttered, his voice barely audible.

Yi Hyeon smiled faintly, the kind of smile that carried both reassurance and the faintest shadow of unease. “Don’t thank me yet. We still have a long way to go.”

As they turned to leave, the blue gate creaked slightly, as if it too bore witness to the day’s turbulence. Eunhyun glanced back at the house one last time, the place that had always been a symbol of warmth and safety. Now, it felt distant, like an estranged family member.

The train ride back to Seoul was unusually quiet. Both brothers stared out the window, lost in their thoughts as the scenery blurred by. Eunhyun clutched his belly instinctively, a gesture Yi Hyeon noticed but chose not to comment on. Instead, he reached out and rested his hand gently over Eunhyun’s, offering silent support.

No words were exchanged, but the gesture spoke volumes. Whatever came next, they would face it together.

Blood was trickling from the edge of Yi Hyeon’s hairline down to his forehead. The cut, likely from the sharp corner of the box, looked painful, and Eunhyun couldn’t help but wince.

“That pretty forehead of yours is going to scar,” Eunhyun muttered.

“Hyung, you think my forehead is pretty?” Yi Hyeon teased, his lips twitching upward despite the situation.

“Ha… Is that really important right now?”

Fortunately, the wound wasn’t deep, and the bleeding stopped quickly.

“Yi Hyeon, what’s the plan now?” Eunhyun asked, his voice edged with frustration.

“I… don’t know.” Yi Hyeon’s face bore genuine shock, the kind that came from facing harsh words and actions from their father—someone who had always been gentle and kind to him. Having been scolded and even hit with a tissue box, it was clear why he was shaken.

Eunhyun glanced at him, unable to suppress his curiosity. “What gave you the confidence to think they’d give their blessing in the first place?”

“I thought… if I confessed everything honestly and sincerely apologized, they’d forgive us and give their approval,” Yi Hyeon said softly.

This kid… he really thinks life is that simple, huh?

Eunhyun was at a loss for words. Yi Hyeon’s approach, so naive and straightforward, clashed sharply with his usual cunning nature. And yet, Eunhyun couldn’t help but sigh deeply at the sight of his brother’s forlorn expression.

“You’re unbelievable, Yi Hyeon…”

Eunhyun wanted to be angry, but seeing his brother slouched and defeated, he swallowed his frustration. Instead, he focused on the practical matter at hand.

“Come on. Let’s just go home.”

Even as Eunhyun moved to leave, Yi Hyeon hesitated, his feet glued to the ground. His expression was one of reluctant determination.

“Hyung… can you go back to Seoul by yourself?”

“What are you talking about now?”

“I’ll stay behind and try to convince Mom and Dad. You have work tomorrow…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Eunhyun snapped. “Do you have any idea how long Dad holds grudges when he’s mad?”

He reminded Yi Hyeon of a past incident. “Remember when I broke Dad’s prized porcelain jar in high school? He didn’t speak to me for two weeks.”

The memory was enough to silence Yi Hyeon. Eunhyun softened his tone. “Let’s just go back together for now. Mom said they need time to process. And… well, never mind.”

They didn’t faint when we told them about the baby. That’s already a miracle.

Eunhyun reached out and took Yi Hyeon’s hand. It was cold from nerves.

“Come on. Let’s go home.”

Yi Hyeon reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled along, his steps heavy with lingering hesitation.

Back inside the house, the atmosphere was thick with silence. The air seemed to weigh heavily on Lee Ji Min as she sat at the kitchen table, resting her chin on her hands. Her face was etched with worry, her thoughts racing.

Where did it all go wrong?

Raising her head slightly, she gazed at the wooden grain of the table, lost in thought. She couldn’t wrap her mind around how this had happened. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know the complexity of sibling relationships. She had grown up with two older siblings herself. But the thought of such a dynamic turning romantic? It was beyond comprehension.

Was it a mistake to adopt Yi Hyeon?

Yet, no matter how she turned the question in her mind, she knew she wouldn’t have made a different decision if given the chance. Adopting him hadn’t been about giving Eunhyun a playmate, even though that had been the official reason. Deep down, it was something else entirely something more primal and empathetic.

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