The room stayed clean.
That was the first thing Sun Jin noticed.
No scattered toys.
No tiny shoes kicked near the door.
No half-finished drawings on the floor.
Just order.
Perfect, unbearable order.
He woke up the next morning at the same time as always — 5:00 a.m.
For a few seconds, he forgot.
He turned slightly to the right, expecting to see messy hair and sleepy eyes.
There was nothing.
Just a neatly folded blanket.
The silence didn't scream.
It pressed.
At work, he lifted cement bags like usual. The weight didn't bother him anymore.
What bothered him was the quiet inside his head.
No small voice asking questions.
No one waiting for him to return.
During lunch break, one of the workers nudged him.
"You look lighter," the man said casually.
Sun Jin forced a small smile.
"Maybe I am."
But he wasn't.
He felt hollow.
That evening, instead of going home immediately, he wandered through the streets.
He passed the orphanage.
He stopped.
He didn't go inside.
From outside the gate, he watched children playing in the yard.
He searched for one face.
And then he saw him.
Sun Hu was sitting under a tree with a book in his lap.
He wasn't crying.
He wasn't smiling either.
He looked… smaller.
But safe.
Safe.
Sun Jin turned away quickly.
If he stayed one second longer, he would have run inside and taken him back.
And he couldn't afford that weakness.
Days became weeks.
Sun Jin filled his time with work.
Construction in the morning.
Delivery shifts at night.
Cleaning jobs on weekends.
He returned home exhausted, collapsing on the mattress without eating sometimes.
The room stayed perfectly organized.
He wiped the floor every night.
He folded the blanket with sharp precision.
He aligned the shoes near the door.
Control.
If he could control the room, maybe he could control the ache.
One rainy evening, while doing a small delivery job, something caught his eye.
An old camera displayed in a second-hand shop window.
It wasn't new.
It wasn't shiny.
But it stood proudly among other forgotten items.
Sun Jin stopped walking.
He stepped closer.
The camera looked worn but steady.
Like it had seen things.
Captured things.
He stared at his reflection in the dusty glass.
For a strange moment, he imagined freezing time.
Capturing Sun Hu's laughter.
Holding onto it forever.
Before life changed it.
The shop owner noticed him lingering.
"You like photography?" the man asked.
"I don't know," Sun Jin replied honestly.
The man chuckled. "This one's cheap. Old model. But still works."
Sun Jin checked his wallet.
Not enough.
He walked away.
But the image of that camera stayed in his mind.
Three days later, he went back.
He skipped meals.
He took extra shifts.
And finally, he bought it.
The first time he held the camera, his hands trembled slightly.
It felt heavier than he expected.
Important.
That night, instead of sleeping, he stepped outside.
The streetlights reflected on wet roads. A stray dog curled under a shop shutter. A child ran through puddles while his mother shouted from a balcony.
Sun Jin raised the camera.
Click.
The sound was soft.
But something inside him shifted.
He looked at the captured image.
For the first time in months, he didn't feel empty.
He felt… present.
Photography became his quiet escape.
He captured:
• Old men playing chess on sidewalks
• Vendors arguing over prices
• Children laughing in the rain
• Couples fighting and then forgiving
Moments.
He started to understand something.
Life didn't stop for pain.
It kept moving.
And if he couldn't hold onto people…
He could at least hold onto moments.
One Sunday, he gathered courage and visited the orphanage properly.
This time, he didn't hide outside the gate.
He signed the visitor book.
When Sun Hu saw him, his face lit up brighter than sunlight.
"Hyung!"
Sun Jin knelt and hugged him tightly.
"You look taller," Sun Jin said softly.
"I'm studying!" Sun Hu said proudly. "Teacher says I read well."
Sun Jin smiled.
"Good. Become smarter than me."
They sat under the same tree from before.
Sun Jin secretly took a photo of Sun Hu while he laughed.
He didn't tell him.
That photo became the most important thing in his life.
Months passed.
Sun Jin slowly started getting small photography jobs.
Birthday parties.
Small events.
Local shop promotions.
The pay wasn't great.
But it was something.
He kept working part-time jobs too.
He began collecting small lighting stands. Second-hand tripods. Old lenses.
His room slowly filled with equipment.
Yet it remained spotless.
Every wire neatly rolled.
Every lens carefully placed.
He built a small world of light inside that tiny room.
Because darkness had already taken too much.
One night, after developing photos, he stared at Sun Hu's picture for a long time.
The boy's smile had changed.
It was less dependent.
More confident.
Sun Jin felt proud.
And afraid.
What if one day Sun Hu stopped needing him completely?
The thought hurt more than he expected.
He placed the photograph carefully on the shelf.
"I'll become someone you're proud of," he whispered to the empty room.
Outside, the city lights flickered.
Inside, Sun Jin adjusted his camera settings again.
He had chosen his path.
If he couldn't protect his brother by staying beside him…
He would protect him by becoming strong enough to never fail him again.
And for the first time since that blue gate closed behind Sun Hu…
Sun Jin felt something close to hope.