Junho wakes up on the couch to his dad patting his face.

“Appa—”

“There’s breakfast on the table. Eat it before it gets cold.”

Rubbing the blurriness away from his eyes, he sits up and glances at the clock in shock. It’s already one.

“Not really breakfast though, is it?” Junho notes, put off by the croak in his voice. He clears his throat and decides that today he’ll bypass making tea and just drink seltzer water instead.

“It is to a night owl,” Jisung retorts.

Junho makes a grunting sort of laugh as he rolls off the couch and makes his way over to the kitchen, his dad following closely behind. Which is, for lack of a better word, unusual of him. He sends a suspicious look towards his dad and as he swings the door open to the kitchen, he can’t help but stumble back from the surprise.

“You cooked?” he asks, fully incredulous. Taking a step closer, he eyes the way the island table has been set up for two people to eat. All of his favorite banchan are on display, from sanjeok to kkakdugi, and do they somehow actually look appetizing? “Museowo.”

Jisung scoffs. “Nolraji maseyo.”

“I’ve never seen you cook in my life, I’m allowed to be surprised.” Junho takes a seat, staring directly into the heart of his plate which has galbi loaded onto it. “Why does it look so good?”

Jisung claps the back of his shoulder and comes to sit beside him. “I ordered in.”

Immediately, Junho exhales in relief and grabs a spoon to dig in with. “Thank god. I thought you’d sold your soul or something for better culinary skills.”

Jisung stares at him, insulted. “I set all this up and that’s the thanks I get?”

Junho lowers his head, attempting to hide his smile. He knows full well that his father is doing his best to make up for yesterday. “Gamsahaeyo.”

Jisung shakes his head, tutting his tongue and reaches for his stainless steel chopsticks. “I have to eat fast. I’m due at work in thirty minutes.”

Which is incredibly late by Jisung’s standards, and adds weight to the unspoken apology.

“Hospital is a fifteen minute drive if the traffic is light,” Junho comments, biting into one of his pieces of galbi. Man, he loves ribs. Wherever the hell his dad has ordered from has really delivered.

“So I have fifteen minutes to eat,” Jisung mutters, already shoveling a mouthful of kongnamul bap into his mouth. He doesn’t say much after that, and doesn’t need to.

Since Junho was as small as four—at least by reports of his grandmother—he’d sat at the table and chattered away, not having any real need for a response. He usually talked about the weather, what plans he had for the weekend, what newest show he’d gotten invested in, what movies he wanted to go see in theaters. That’s the usual Junho, a noisy, talkative person who likes being surrounded by others.

Except, by the time Junho gets done talking about the weather, he realizes that he doesn’t have it in him to care about what sort of plans he’ll make for the weekend. His thoughts stray back to Ciana again. 

“Do you want to talk about yesterday?” Jisung asks suddenly, nearly making Junho drop his spoon in surprise.

“What about yesterday?” he asks evasively.

“Ciana’s funeral.” Jisung swallows heavily and Junho can hear his throat clearing from here. “I wish I could have been there but, well, other patients needed me. I had appointments that couldn’t be rescheduled.”

“Ciana would understand,” Junho reassures him quickly.

Jisung levels him with a look. “So, how'd it go?”

He shrugs. “It went as well as any funeral should, I guess. I met her nonna for the first time, oh, and her bro—” Junho cuts himself off as a recollection from last night hits him.

Him, crying until three in the morning while clutching the letter Ciana had written with the desperate hope that Junho will play angel and save her brother. From what, he isn’t too sure. And how he’ll do it, he knows even less about. What he does know is that he’s itching to get at the rest of the letters and can only unlock the next one by establishing contact with Luca.

Again, no idea how to do something like that.

“Appa,” he begins again, refocusing on his dad. “Have you ever met Ciana’s brother before? The grumpy one?”

Jisung blinks, and swallows a mouthful quickly before nodding. “Let’s see... It was four years ago?” He cocks his head to the side and sucks in a breath. “Or was it five years?”

“That long ago?” Junho feels his hopes sink. There’s no way his dad will be able to tell him what kind of person Luca is like now. But... understanding a person also works when talking about what they were like as a kid too, right? Junho leans forward eagerly. “What did you think about him?”

“Aah, he was around twelve and was very quiet. Didn’t speak a word to me. Nervous, I think.”

Stuff he already knew, gaaah. Determined, however, Junho presses for more. “What else?”

“Hmm...”

“Yeah?”

“He liked sweets a whole lot. I had to warn him about eating too many, else he’d have to go to the dentist. From the sounds of it, he doesn’t like them anymore.”

Which is an interesting thing to think about. Junho grew up the exact opposite. He hated sweets growing up, but as he got older, he found a love for them, which is thanks in part to Ciana, who, like a weirdo, liked watching him eat the things she couldn’t when her diet was regimented. 

Thinking that his dad played a role in Luca's life is also a bit strange, as it hadn't even occurred to him before today that they'd ever met at all.

“Is that all?” Junho asks when his dad doesn’t add anything else.

Jisung shrugs. “He’s private. That’s all I know.”

Junho deflates once more, clears a space on the table for his head to rest on and groans.

“Why the sudden interest?” Jisung asks slowly, and then, as if struck by a thought, tenses a bit, discomfort in his expression. “You’re not, ah, interested are you?”

In other words: “Do I think he looks attractive?” Junho asks, mumbling against the marble of the island table. “Yes. Do I like him? The jury is still out on that, but I’m gonna say no for now. Even if I did like him, would I make any advances towards him?” Junho sits up, faces his dad and says bluntly, “No way. He’s Ciana’s brother.”

Jisung exhales in relief, his shoulders deflating. “So you can still see reason.”

“Just not enough, apparently,” Junho mutters bitterly.

His dad coughs, clearing his throat, opens his mouth to say something. But just as he gets the first vowel out, he shakes his head. “Let’s not argue about this today.”

“Good.”

Jisung clicks his tongue. “So, what did you say the interest in Luca was about?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Junho deflects, not really in the mood to open up about Ciana’s mission to anyone else, no else but—Junho sits up straighter.

Actually, maybe he’ll send an email to Sofia, preferably before the ink on his hand disappears. After all, she’s the only person he can think of to talk about this with that he'll actually be comfortable with.

And she knows Luca. Which is perfect.

With this sudden thought, Junho feels himself brighten immediately.

His dad is still staring at him.

“I was just curious 'cause of how different he is from Ciana,” Junho mumbles when it becomes clear he expects more from him. “That’s all.”

Jisung takes this in and nods slowly. “They are as different as night and day. They were, even as children.”

Which is exactly why Junho has absolutely no idea how he’s gonna be able to make friends with a dude like him. He really needs to get that home-field advantage with Sofia.

Junho glances at the clock.

“Time, Appa,” Junho reminds him, as he taps at his wrist. “You’re going to be late.”

Jisung takes that opportunity to curse, pulling away from the table and reaching for his keys and his bag. “Clean up for me, will you?”

“Will do. Have a good day at work!”

A pat on his back. “I’ll try, Junie.” His footsteps click against the hardwood floors, leading away.

And then there’s only one.

As soon as he hears the car pull out of the driveway, Junho gets up to turn on all the TVs and contemplates just how he'll word his message to Sofia.