The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue across the expansive garden of the Shin Mansion. The air was fresh and cool, the gentle rustling of leaves creating a soothing melody in the background. It was a rare moment of tranquility in their busy lives, a quiet afternoon when the weight of the world seemed to lift, even if just for a little while.

Hana, with her wide eyes full of curiosity and wonder, ran ahead, her small footsteps quick but carefree, as if nothing had changed. Saejoon followed behind her, his gaze softening as he watched her with a smile. Despite the stark contrasts between their past and present, Hana still managed to retain a childlike joy that reminded him of a simpler time, before the accident, before the pain.

“Catch me, oppa!” Hana giggled, turning back to look at him as she darted between the trees.

Saejoon’s lips curved into a grin as he quickened his pace, despite the slight strain in his legs. His once-weak limbs had grown stronger over the past months, thanks to the relentless training he subjected himself to every night in secret. Each step he took was a victory, a reminder of how far he had come. He pushed past the lingering discomfort, knowing he couldn’t afford to stop. Not for himself, not for Hana.

As he reached her, he scooped her up into his arms, her laughter ringing out through the garden. Hana’s tiny arms wrapped around his neck as she clung to him, her heart full of happiness.

“Gotcha!” Saejoon chuckled, his voice light, a stark contrast to the weight he normally carried in his tone.

Hana’s face lit up, her eyes sparkling with pure delight. “Now, can you carry me on your back like before?”

Saejoon looked at her, his smile softening. The memory of those days—when he used to lift her with ease, when his body had been round and unburdened—flooded him for a brief moment. He had been a different person then, living in a world where he didn’t have to think about the consequences of his actions. But now, after everything, things were different. His body was stronger, but the change had come at such a high price.

Still, for Hana, he would do anything.

With a deep breath, he knelt down to the ground. “Okay, Hana. Hop on.”

Hana squealed in excitement and scrambled onto his back, her tiny hands resting on his shoulders. Saejoon straightened up, holding her securely as he stood tall. He was surprised at how easy it felt, even with the weight of his responsibilities, the physical strain that sometimes still lingered in his legs. For Hana, it was worth it.

“Whee!” Hana shouted, her joy infectious as she clung to him, her tiny hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

Saejoon laughed, feeling the familiar rush of adrenaline as he jogged through the garden, moving with ease, though his muscles ached slightly from the effort. Hana’s laughter rang out like music, and for that moment, everything else faded away.

He could still remember the days when he had been too focused on trivial things to appreciate moments like this. The careless days when he had taken his body and his family for granted. But now, with every step he took, Saejoon was reminded of how fragile everything was—how fleeting life could be. Yet, with Hana on his back, laughing with joy, he found himself forgetting about the weight of the world for a few minutes.

Together, they ran through the garden, Saejoon’s legs moving with increasing confidence. Hana’s giggles filled the air, and for the first time in a long while, Saejoon allowed himself to feel alive.

“Faster, oppa!” Hana urged, her voice full of excitement.

Saejoon pushed himself a little harder, picking up the pace as they raced across the grass. He could feel the wind against his face, and for a brief moment, it felt like he was the same Saejoon he used to be—the playful, carefree boy who never thought twice about his actions. The boy who had been unburdened by responsibility. But now, as he carried Hana, he felt something deeper, something more meaningful—purpose.

They reached the edge of the garden, and Saejoon slowed to a stop, catching his breath. Hana slid off his back, her small hands holding his arm as she steadied herself.

“That was so much fun!” Hana said, beaming up at him. “Thank you, oppa.”

Saejoon smiled down at her, his heart swelling with warmth. He ruffled her hair, a small gesture that used to be second nature for him.

“I’m glad you had fun,” he said softly, though his voice held a depth of emotion that Hana didn’t fully understand. “You deserve it.”

Hana’s eyes were full of innocence, a stark contrast to the quiet, contemplative expression that often took over his face. She didn’t understand the complexities of what Saejoon had been through, or the emotional toll that had weighed on him since their parents' deaths. But, in moments like these, she was just a child. And Saejoon was grateful for that.

For a brief moment, as they stood there in the garden, surrounded by the beauty of nature, Saejoon allowed himself to forget. Forget the responsibilities, the legacy, the pain. It was just him and Hana, and for once, that was enough.

He knew that things would never truly be the same. He knew that their lives had changed forever. But as he watched Hana’s smile, as he felt the warmth of her tiny hand in his, he realized that some things—the most important things—would always remain unchanged. He would always be there for her. And no matter how much he changed, he would never stop being the brother she needed.