The Boy from the Bus
The afternoon classes seemed to stretch into eternity, the minutes ticking by like slow drips of water. When the final bell finally rang, a collective sigh of relief swept through the halls. Zohi, Sijun, and June walked toward the bus stop, their conversation a light hum against the noise of the crowd. Amidst the sea of students, Taiyang stood out—his cold, aristocratic features and somber expression acting like an invisible barrier that kept the world at bay.
When the bus arrived, Taiyang boarded first, claiming his usual territory by the window. The seat next to him remained empty, a silent "no man's land" that no one dared to cross. That is, until a younger boy, unaware of the unspoken rules, tried to sit down.
Taiyang's reaction was instantaneous and fierce. "What do you think you're doing? Did I give you permission to sit here?"
The boy froze. Taiyang's eyes were smoldering with a dark, volatile energy. "Don't you know I don't share my space?" he barked. "Get out!"
Flushing with humiliation, the boy stood up, his voice trembling with indignation. "Why are you so arrogant? Mark my words—it's this pride of yours that will cost you everything you love. Try fixing yourself for once."
As the boy retreated to another seat, Zohi watched the entire exchange, leaning in to whisper to Sijun. "Of all the lunatics in this school, he's definitely the king. Just looking at him makes my blood boil."
Sijun sighed, shaking her head. "Just ignore him, Zohi. Let's just sit."
As the bus rumbled forward, the crowd thinned out at every stop until only Zohi and Taiyang remained. Zohi stole a glance at him; he was staring out the window, but the fire in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a hollow, haunting emptiness. They got off at the same stop and walked a short distance in a heavy, shared silence. At the corner where the road diverged, they went their separate ways without a single word.
Zohi's Living Hell
The moment Zohi stepped inside her house, the aroma of a delicious meal greeted her. She found her father in the kitchen, busy at the stove. "Dad, I'm home!" she called out, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "School was actually great today."
Her father smiled back, but the warmth was short-lived. Her mother swept into the room like a sudden storm. "Of course it was great! Spending my hard-earned money and wandering around the city—what could be better? You two are just leeches living off my back!"
Zohi's smile died instantly. "Why do you even work then?" she shouted back. "No one asked you to! You use your job as a weapon to destroy the peace of this house. Dad, why don't you say something? I can't do this anymore. I'm finding a part-time job tomorrow. I'm done with this mental torture!"
The house erupted into the all-too-familiar chaos. Her father, his pride wounded, yelled, "I handled everything! Just because my business hit a rough patch, you think you can talk to me like this? When I was the provider, I never looked down on you!"
Unable to take another second, Zohi retreated to her room and slammed the door. She pulled an old album from her closet. In the faded photos, a younger Zohi smiled brightly, her hands tucked securely into her parents' palms. She wept, the tears blurring the images. Do people really change this much? she wondered. Or was our happiness just a beautiful mirage?
Chapter 7: Taiyang's Haunted Past
As Taiyang walked away from the bus stop, a sleek, black luxury car pulled up beside him. A man in a crisp suit stepped out, bowing deeply. "Sir, please, the car is waiting."
Taiyang climbed in, and soon they arrived at a sprawling estate. The moment he stepped through the doors, a line of servants scurried into motion. One took his bag, another offered water, while a third began rattling off his evening schedule.
"Stop it!" Taiyang exploded. "I am not a robot you can program. Leave me alone!"
An elderly servant stammered, "I'm sorry, Sir, but your father gave strict orders. You have a meeting with the board tonight, and—"
Taiyang's glare cut him off. "Cancel it. If anyone disturbs me again, they'll regret it."
He threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in the pillows. He struck the mattress in a fit of powerless rage. "Everyone has a normal life... why did you make my life a living hell, Father?"
He closed his eyes, and the memories—the cursed, jagged memories—returned. He remembered waking up as a child to find his mother gone from his side. He had wandered into the hall to find his parents locked in a vicious scream-match. His mother was accusing his father of an affair with his secretary, Shishi.
"Don't lie to me, Mr. Kang!" she had shrieked. "I am the second CEO of this company! Don't play me for a fool. I know what's happening between you two!"
Despite his father's desperate pleas of innocence, she wouldn't listen. "As of today, you have no relationship with me or my son!" she declared.
She had dragged little Taiyang to the car, her eyes blinded by tears and betrayal. She drove like a woman possessed. Taiyang remembered crying, pleading, "Mom, please slow down! We're going to crash!"
But she didn't hear him. There was a deafening roar, the screech of metal against a truck... and then, total darkness. His mother never woke up from that blood-stained asphalt. In the present, Taiyang shuddered, his breath coming in ragged gasps. In a blind fury, he began smashing everything within reach.
June's Small, Golden World
Across town, in a modest little restaurant, a very different scene was unfolding. June was working alongside his mother. His father had walked out on them two years ago, but instead of breaking, the two had forged a bond of pure steel.
His mother kept trying to push him away from the chores. "June, go study. Why are you working here?"
June flashed a brilliant, tired smile. "Mom, I can study at night. Helping you is more important. You focus on the cooking; I'll handle the service. We're going to save up, Mom. I'm going to buy you the beautiful house you deserve."
His mother smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "I know you'll be a success, my son. We'll have our happy little family."
In that tiny kitchen, laughter echoed. There was no wealth here, no luxury cars or sprawling estates—only a love so deep it made the small restaurant feel like the most beautiful place on earth.