It was a cold morning when Hana came home from school, her small hands clutching the letter in front of her chest. The envelope was neatly sealed, marked with the name of her school and the bold letters: Parents’ Meeting Invitation.

She hadn’t said a word as she passed through the front door, walking straight past Saejoon, who was sitting at his desk in the study, surrounded by papers and reports. He looked up briefly, noticing the somber expression on her face, but didn’t push her. He could tell that something was bothering her.

After a moment, she shuffled over to him, her gaze cast downward, her fingers nervously playing with the corners of the envelope. Saejoon set his pen down, his eyes softening as he watched her.

"What’s wrong, Hana?" he asked gently, his voice calm and reassuring.

Hana hesitated, her small frame tense as she handed him the letter. Saejoon took it, his brows furrowing as he read the contents. The letter was an invitation to a parents’ meeting at her school. It was the kind of thing that many parents attended to discuss their children’s academic progress and well-being, a meeting that would have once been attended by their mother and father, perhaps even their older sister Yeseul.

Hana’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, her words almost too soft to hear. "I don’t have parents anymore… Who’s going to come with me?"

Saejoon looked at his sister, his heart aching at the rawness of her words. For a moment, there was silence between them. She had never quite verbalized her sadness so clearly before, but in that moment, it hit him all at once—Hana was still just a child. She had lost her parents, her home, and the only family she had left was him.

He put the letter down and stood up, his body moving with a fluidity and quiet strength that surprised even him now. His legs, once stiff and unreliable, were no longer reliant on crutches or a wheelchair. Though his steps were measured, they were steady—no longer slow or painful, but strong enough to carry him with ease. His body, leaner now from his training, no longer reflected the frailty it once had.

He walked over to Hana, crouching down so that they were eye to eye.

"I’ll go with you," Saejoon said softly, his voice firm yet tender. "I’ll be there for you, Hana. I’m your guardian now, like a parent. You don’t have to do this alone."

Hana looked up at him, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and hope. The vulnerability she had shown earlier was now replaced with a quiet relief, the knowledge that her brother—her only family left—would be there. She smiled, her small face lighting up in a way that made Saejoon’s heart ache with love and a sense of responsibility he hadn’t quite felt before.

"You promise?" she asked, her voice full of earnestness, almost pleading.

Saejoon nodded, his lips curling into a soft smile. "I promise, Hana. I’ll be there."

The night before the parents’ meeting, Hana was restless. She couldn’t quite sleep, her mind wandering to the day ahead. For the first time since the accident, she felt the full weight of the absence of their parents, of how much she missed them. But Saejoon had kept his word. He had stayed with her all evening, helping her with homework, comforting her whenever she seemed too quiet or sad.

The next day, as the sun began to rise, Saejoon and Hana made their way to the school. He had insisted on driving her himself, something he never did before, preferring to have the bodyguards do the work. But today was different. Today was for Hana.

When they arrived at the school, Saejoon was prepared for the looks, the whispers, the stares. He didn’t care about any of that. As soon as the car doors opened, Hana stepped out first, followed by Saejoon.

The transformation was immediate. Those who had known Saejoon before—the former class clowns, the teachers who had watched him grow up—saw a different version of him now. There was no longer the heavy-set teenager with a mischievous grin, no longer the boy who had been more interested in video games than schoolwork. This was a Saejoon who stood tall, walked without hesitation, and carried an air of quiet maturity.

Hana’s hand gripped his tightly as they made their way into the school building. At first, no one knew quite how to react. The teachers who had once scolded Saejoon for his lack of focus were now taken aback by how he had transformed, not just in body, but in spirit. They exchanged glances, whispering among themselves, unsure if they were seeing the same student they had known years ago.

As Saejoon entered the hallway, the murmurs grew louder. Whispers spread like wildfire as students stopped in their tracks to watch him pass by. Some recognized him immediately, while others weren’t sure whether this quiet, poised young man was really the same Saejoon Shin who had once caused such chaos in the school halls.

But Saejoon didn’t flinch. He didn’t seek attention. He simply walked ahead, leading Hana by the hand.

When they reached the classroom, the door opened to reveal the teachers standing around a large table, ready for the parents’ meeting. They stopped dead in their tracks as they saw Saejoon enter the room, walking with a slow but steady confidence. Their eyes widened in shock.

One teacher, Mr. Kang, who had taught Saejoon in elementary school, was the first to speak. His mouth hung open, disbelief clear on his face. "Saejoon... is that really you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Saejoon smiled softly, giving a small nod. "It’s me, Mr. Kang. Just… different."

He then reached down and gently lifted Hana into his arms, his grip firm and protective. The teachers, still shocked at the sight of the once-reckless boy now carrying his sister with such grace, could only watch in silence.

As Saejoon settled into a seat at the table, Hana curled up next to him, her head resting on his shoulder. She had never been so relieved to have her brother by her side. She had always known he would be there for her, but now—seeing him in a new light—she could finally start to believe it fully.

And as the meeting began, Saejoon sat with a quiet dignity, listening to the teachers discuss Hana’s academic progress, their words barely registering in his mind. His focus was entirely on her, and as he looked down at her sleeping peacefully in his arms, he promised himself that he would never again let her face the world alone.

No matter how much he had to change. No matter what he had to sacrifice.

For Hana, he would always be there.