Prologue
Lee Yumin rose from bed, stretching to shake off the lingering stiffness. His mind was sharp, his body in peak condition. He'd worried about the heavy dawn rain, but peering out the window, he saw the weather had cleared into a brilliant sunny day.
Today was a truly important day. The efforts he'd poured in over the past few days—no, the past year—had paid off; he felt utterly primed. It was the day of the college entrance exam.
Given Yumin's grades, as long as he managed his condition and no unexpected variables arose, he could easily get into one of Seoul's top universities.
Yumin headed to the bathroom for a quick wash-up, then made his way to the living room. His mother and his middle-school-aged little sister were already preparing breakfast.
"Yumin, you're up? It's almost ready—come sit."
"Yes, Mom."
"Oppa, I made the rolled omelet today."
"Yeah? Thanks."
The woman smiling warmly at him now wasn't his biological mother. Nor was this lively, cute second-year middle school girl his blood sister.
Yumin had lost his real mother at a young age. His current mother and sister had become family two years ago when his father remarried. The widowed mother had moved in with her only daughter, blending their lives together.
Though they'd only been together for two years, Yumin already thought of them as his real mother and sister. This mother felt more like his true one than the biological one he barely remembered. The same went for his adorable little sister.
As an only child, Yumin had always longed for an older or younger sister. The best part of his father's remarriage was probably gaining a little sister.
Dad must have left early for work today because of the exam. Yumin sat at the table. The spread showed extra care befitting the special occasion.
He started with the rolled omelet his sister had boasted about. Maybe because she'd lived alone with her mom before the remarriage, but she cooked like someone far older. Finely chopped carrots, onions, and green onions added color, texture, and nutrition. And it tasted great.
"Oppa, how is it?"
"Gayoung's rolled omelets are always top-notch. Delicious."
"Hehe…."
After finishing the hearty, nutritious meal, Yumin grabbed his bag and headed to the entryway. His mother and sister followed to see him off.
"Oppa, fighting!"
"Yumin, just do your best like always, and it'll turn out great."
"Yes. I'll be back."
The exam site was the middle school Yumin had graduated from, nestled across a low hill from their house. Including the walk to the bus stop and ride, it took over twenty minutes, but crossing the hill on foot cut it to fifteen.
He wasn't rushed, having left early, but craving the mountain air to ease his nerves, Yumin took the hill path.
The trail was a narrow dirt road barely wide enough for a single car, with a small temple at the summit. It saw little foot traffic usually.
Yumin climbed the quiet, deserted road. Puddles from the morning rain dotted the path, and occasional large rocks had tumbled down from the ridges.
"Shouldn't have taken the hill. Should've just bused it."
He picked dry spots to keep his shoes clean as he pressed on. The path steepened near the top.
Then he spotted a car. A black luxury sedan had veered off the road, slamming into a tree. It looked like an accident—maybe hydroplaning on the wet road, or brake failure?
It had hit hard: a tree thick enough that an adult man couldn't fully embrace it was half-uprooted, and the car's front was crumpled.
Yumin rushed over. The heavy tint required pressing close to see inside. One in the driver's seat, one in the back—both unconscious, badly injured.
He tried the doors, but they were locked from inside. Scanning around, he grabbed a suitable rock and smashed a window carefully to avoid hurting them. Unlocking from inside, he checked the victims.
Both were breathing, at least. But the backseat passenger had heavy bleeding from a forehead wound.
Still a high schooler, Yumin couldn't do proper first aid. But he knew leaving it like this was dangerous. He pressed his handkerchief hard against the wound.
With his other hand, he pulled out his phone and called 119.
He quickly relayed the location and situation, getting confirmation they'd dispatch soon.
Watching the handkerchief soak red, he pressed harder. No way to let go until help arrived.
It was exam day. He'd left early, but discovering the crash, breaking the window, and now this had eaten up more time than expected. If the ambulance came fast, he might barely make it.
Torn between exam worries and the victims' precarious lives, Yumin could only press harder.
The ambulance finally arrived—delayed by the narrow road, rain damage, and obstacles.
Paramedics extracted the patients, stabilized them, and loaded them up. Confirming the vehicle depart, Yumin sprinted to the exam hall.
Panting, he arrived—but too late. The exam had started; he couldn't enter.
Yumin stood dazed, staring at the classroom being used as the testing site.
Yumin finished his answers and rose, heading to the front desk. Few students remained. Those taking this lecture's exam fell into two camps: give up early and leave, or fight to the bitter end.
The test was brutally tough. But Yumin fit neither—he'd completed everything with ten minutes to spare.
"Yumin, all done?"
"Yes."
Jeong Suji, the TA for the class, admired his answer sheet. A closer look would confirm it, but probably all correct.
"Yumin, top of the class again this semester?"
Yumin hadn't lost top spot since enrolling. Suji knew it well as the TA.
"Who knows. Finals are over now anyway."
"If you top again, wanna grab something tasty? My treat, of course."
"Haha…."
He'd missed the exam timing and had to retake it the next year, but made it into prestigious Y University.
The joy was short-lived. Soon after, a car accident claimed both parents.
Their deaths brought grief and shock, but Yumin couldn't afford to wallow—his young sister needed him. Suddenly head of household, he tutored and worked part-time.
Yet he never neglected studies. Scholarships covered tuition at minimum, or he'd have to drop out. Luckily, he'd earned them every semester, scraping by without want.
No military service either, so at 23, he was a third-year. Suji, his senior and TA, knew his situation well.
She liked his kindness and diligence, pitied his hardships, and often treated him to meals or looked after him.
"I'm good, Suji sunbae. Heading out."
"Alright. Good work."
Yumin headed to the subway for home. He'd told Gayoung he'd be early; she'd likely be prepping dinner.
Now a high school senior, she'd enter college next year. Under Yumin's dedicated tutoring—and her own efforts—her grades shone. No exam-day mishaps like his, solid scores. Top university was likely barring surprises.
His phone buzzed. Shin Minseo.
Minseo had been his tutee. Well, past tense—exams done, tutoring ended. A repeater like Gayoung, she'd just tested.
Her grades had soared under him—not quite Gayoung's level, but enough for a solid Seoul four-year school.
Minseo's grades jumping thrilled her mom, who adored Yumin—lavish meals at every session, generous pay. It eased his finances.
Her affection bordered on matchmaking; his qualities made him ideal son-in-law material. Minseo nagged but wasn't indifferent.
[Got it. Tomorrow or the day after.]
[Tomorrow. Promise?]
[Yeah, tomorrow.]
[You promised. Hmph.]
The call ended. Yumin sighed involuntarily. Why did Minseo always grumble around him? Yet she listened well—studied hard, did homework properly. Sometimes cute and meek, other times catty and aloof. Unpredictable.
Home at last. Their place was an old 24-pyeong apartment. Post-parents, they'd sold the family home for this smaller one. Initially sustained by inheritance, but for space, they couldn't downsize further. Now, stable enough.
"Oppa, welcome back. Wash up—dinner's ready."
"Thanks. Good job."
Gayoung used formal speech with him. Four years apart wasn't much, but the habit stuck from their first meeting. After parents' death, depending on him like a father cemented it.
Yumin washed up and entered the kitchen. The table held Gayoung's thoughtful spread.
Alone now, they split chores. When she hit senior year, he tried taking all, but she insisted otherwise—rare defiance from her usual obedience.
"You earn money and do everything. Let me handle meals and laundry."
He yielded. Never one to push, especially not soft-hearted Yumin against Gayoung.
Truth was, he loved her cooking. Motherless young, he'd never known home cooking—only his stepmom's, passed to Gayoung.
"Where'd you apply?"
"Y University Business Administration."
His department. YU was elite, but she could aim higher. Yet like chores, she wouldn't budge.
Fourth-year next, Yumin wanted better for her—but also looked forward to her as a junior, even briefly. Solid choice anyway.
He conceded. "Alright. Pass and we'll attend together."
"Yes! I'll make it. Junior to you next year? Hehe."
Gayoung's smile dazzled. The once tiny, shy girl had blossomed—taller, breasts nicely developed. Objectively pretty, great figure; out together, men's gazes followed her.
Yumin savored rare relaxed time with her. Lounging on the sofa, TV on, chatting idly. Such ordinary bliss felt profound. He wished it lasted forever.
"Gayoung, night."
"Goodnight, oppa."
They parted to their rooms. Finals over, winter break begun. No more Minseo tutoring—time for other work. Yumin drifted off amid thoughts.
How long had he slept? Something felt off. Slowly, he opened his eyes.
This wasn't his room.
"Where... is this?"