“Dad says there’s no one better for Suho than Yugeon.”
“Huh?”
“As Suho’s match, I mean.”
At some point, his father had started bringing it up often.
It wasn’t when Suho was very young. It was around that awkward adolescent phase, when classmates started dating, and the occasional messy love triangle would become everyone’s entertainment. It was around the time he had just begun to grasp the concept of love between people.
But even then, he hadn’t been quick or intuitive enough to connect any of that to himself. Unfortunately, he had no idea what exactly his father meant by “match.” He simply assumed it referred to the kind of relationship he currently had with Min Yugeon.
“Yugeon’s always been constant and steadfast. Every time I see him, I feel like he’d be willing to give his life for you.”
Unaware of Suho’s confusion, his father had always enthusiastically supported Min Yugeon.
It was a conversation from before the incident with the upperclassman who liked Min Yugeon and caused some drama at school.
“You’re unbelievable… These kids are still teenagers, and you’re talking like this?”
His mother had smacked his father’s arm with a loud smack. It was a rather sharp slap.
But even as he sheepishly rubbed the spot, his father didn’t back down from his opinion.
“Still, honey, that kid was different from the start. Even when he was this small, the way he looked at Suho…”
He motioned to his knee while seated. Suho, having just come home from school, was silently chewing on the snacks his parents had laid out.
“And actually, you know…”
For some reason, his father paused, then looked around the house as if checking for eavesdroppers, putting on a playful expression. His mother let out a small laugh at the sight.
“Yugeon made a promise to me.”
“A promise?”
“To stay by Suho’s side until the day he dies.”
…That’s kind of scary, Suho thought, pulling a face.
But then the thought struck him that it was only natural for them to be together. That even if death came for them one day, it wouldn’t be strange for them to remain by each other’s side.
His father narrowed his eyes at the look on Suho’s face.
“What’s with that expression? Don’t you feel all fluttery or something?”
“Why would I? That’s just… obvious.”
“Ohh.”
That sound of admiration came from his mother. She, too, was staring at Suho like his father, then covered her mouth slightly and turned toward her husband.
“This might actually be possible.”
“Right? I was a little surprised just now too.”
His parents had launched into a cryptic conversation, completely excluding Suho.
Feeling a bit left out, Suho gave them a mildly disgruntled look. His father, noticing, offered a soft smile.
“You’ve always been a big support to Yugeon, haven’t you?”
His parents weren’t oblivious. Every time they met Min Yugeon’s family, they exchanged pleasantries and held conversations as if everything was fine, but they weren’t blind to the underlying tension. They’d witnessed more than once those precarious moments that nearly erupted into full-blown arguments.
That was why, every time they saw the blameless boy Min Yugeon, they showered him with affection—so much that it sometimes embarrassed him. From the perspective of adults raising a child the same age, he was a boy they couldn’t help but care about and feel sympathy for.
Even if it had started as mere pity, over time, Min Yugeon had become like another son to them. And as they watched the relationship between their son and this son-like boy deepen over the years, it was impossible not to notice that Suho had become someone Yugeon could rely on—someone who gave him advice and support from the standpoint of an equal.
“But now that I think about it, Yugeon seems to be someone really precious to Suho, too.”
“…”
Maybe he shouldn’t have listened. Suho could feel the heat rising in his face. Having their relationship laid out in words made him feel unbearably self-conscious.
“Though, it doesn’t seem to be quite what we’re thinking just yet.”
He looked at his mother in confusion as she muttered that. His father chimed in beside her.
“Yeah. Not yet.”
“Yet? What do you mean ‘yet’?”
At Suho’s question, his parents exchanged glances.
Then they both let out small laughs.
“What are you thinking about?”
Min Yugeon’s voice broke through.
Suho turned his head. Min Yugeon was walking right beside him.
He looked a little more polished than usual, his whole demeanor lively and bright. The warmth in his eyes, soft and filled with sweet emotion, made Suho’s chest tingle.
“Nothing.”
“Hmm. Looks like it was something nice, though.”
Min Yugeon gently tapped the corner of his mouth while closely studying Suho’s expression. Suho absentmindedly touched the corner of his own lips. Had he been smiling without realizing it? If he had to categorize it, the thought had been a pleasant one—it had been a memory of his parents, after all.
Looking back now, it felt like his mother and father had seen this coming—had somehow foreseen the bond between him and Min Yugeon. He had no idea how that was possible, but it was so uncanny, it inspired awe.
“We’re already here.”
Min Yugeon gestured with a nod toward the building that had come into view at a short distance. Suho gave a slight nod and continued walking.
Today was the day he and Min Yugeon had agreed to visit his parents together.
“We’re here.”
They arrived at the place where his mother and father rested, and Suho bowed in greeting.
The only difference from the last time he had visited was that this time, he was holding Min Yugeon’s hand. Standing beside him, Min Yugeon quietly closed his eyes and bowed his head. Suho glanced at him for a moment before turning his gaze back to the urns.
So much had happened.
He and Min Yugeon, whose relationship had hovered in ambiguity, had grown distant. And coincidentally—or perhaps inevitably—he had learned the truth about the past during that very time. After being all but abducted by Lee Shin and dragged to the surface, he and Min Yugeon had officially become lovers…
And then, Min Sanghan and Ji Chanwoo had finally paid for their crimes.
“……”
I’m sorry I realized it too late.
Staring at the urns, Suho silently apologized.
He remembered the days spent unknowingly under the very person who had taken his parents from him. The thought of what might have been if he’d realized sooner stirred a storm of emotion inside him. If his parents had been watching over him, how frustrated, how ashamed would they have felt?
Maybe refusing Yeo Wonjin’s offer and choosing not to seek direct revenge had been the wrong choice after all.
Even the conviction he’d had in his decision, that he wouldn’t regret it, now began to waver.
His fingertips were growing icy cold. It didn’t go unnoticed—Min Yugeon turned to him.
“Suho.”
With a worried look, Yugeon gently rubbed his hands, trying to meet his gaze.
“What’s with that face? I’m the one who should be asking their forgiveness.”
“…What are you talking about? Why would you…”
Suho’s heart sank. So that’s what he’d been thinking when he bowed his head like that?
He looked at Min Yugeon with reproach. It wasn’t his fault. And yet, because he was Min Sanghan’s son, he felt the need to bear the guilt—as if that justified being sorry to Suho or his family. Suho had no intention of letting that slide, not anymore. They’d already promised not to go down that road again.
“Min Yugeon.”
He called his name in a low voice. Yugeon looked at him quietly, then gave a small, bitter smile and nodded.
“Yeah.”
“I told you not to carry that kind of guilt.”
“I know. Sorry.”
Without resisting, Yugeon answered gently and pulled Suho’s hand toward him. Their bodies drew a little closer, and their eyes met.
“But Suho… You feeling guilty—that really doesn’t make any sense.”
Yugeon carefully brushed his hand across Suho’s face. Then he spoke with sincerity.
“Do you really think your parents would want to see you like this?”
“…!”
For a moment, Suho was speechless.
Just as his parents had cared for Min Yugeon, Yugeon had wholeheartedly embraced them as his own. Hearing comfort from someone who knew them so well made Suho instantly realize just how foolish his thoughts had been.
…To think they would blame or resent him. He felt ashamed for ever believing that.
His nose stung. Not wanting to cry so pathetically, he stared down at the smooth floor.
Then Min Yugeon pulled him into his broad arms.
The warmth of the hand patting his back was so comforting, he couldn’t stop the tears from forming.
“We’ve got good news, right? Let’s tell them.”
Still holding him, Yugeon placed a kiss on Suho’s forehead and whispered softly.
Suho nodded, then turned his eyes toward where his parents rested.
Mom. Dad. As you can see, I’m with Min Yugeon now.
It still feels unreal sometimes—something I never even imagined. How did you know all along? At this rate, Yugeon will probably keep the promise he made with Dad.
He’s always been the same. Whether as a child or now, he’s always wanted to stay close to me. We don’t know exactly when, but because of the project, we’ll be going to the surface soon. And without hesitation, he said he’d go with me. Honestly, it’d be a lie to say I wasn’t happy about it.
So we’ll be living together on the surface. We’re planning to tame the monsters that gather near the base where we’ll be staying.
It just sort of happened. Recently, they tested my stats on the surface, and the results exceeded expectations. That’s why the decision was made, so please don’t worry too much.
If I keep trying my best, maybe someday, we’ll be able to bring people from the ship down to the surface—maybe even you two.
So until then, please rest peacefully here.
…Love you.
