赤い糸 - Red String of Fate | JeongSa - MiChaeng

Chapter 66 - Dubu Hyung

[Outside the dorm]

"Hahahah, come on — we're leaving! Are we going to stand here like this all day?" Jeongyeon laughed at Sana, who'd been clinging to her for the past fifteen minutes.

Sana resisted dramatically. "shiro, shiro, sHIROOOOOO!" 

Mina chuckled at the two lovebirds.

"I need to hug my friend too, you know, I'll miss her too" Jeongyeon said, feigning an injured tone. Sana just gripped tighter.

Jeong sighed in mock defeat. "If you don't let me go—" Sana cut her off, voice urgent, "Give me a goodbye kiss at least!"

"Last night wasn't enough?" Jeong snorted.

Sana blushed, reluctantly let go, then stamped her foot. "I hate you!"

"Tss" Mina tried to hold laughter.

Jeongyeon burst out laughing, louder than Mina expected. Sana shot her a dramatic glare and pouted, wishing she could hide in a hole. Jeong leaned in suddenly and pecked her lips. "There there, pouty hamster ㅋㅋㅋ"

Sana's heart missed a beat. She stared blankly at Jeong for a second while Jeong hugged Mina and murmured something into her ear. The two of them giggled and walked away.

Sana stood there, head full of scrambled, jealous thoughts. They're just friends. Get a grip, Minatozaki. She shook her head. I can't believe I'm the jealous girlfriend from a K-drama. Smh.

". . . . ."

They all went home—each to their own families and routines.

Home sweet home, in short.

Jeongyeon was immediately bullied by her sister Seungyeon (as usual).

Mina finally could cook for her father and fill the fridge, a relief after months of instant meals since grandpa's death.

Sana had a family reunion dinner where the Japan return plan was discussed.

Tzuyu kept visiting the café where Nayeon worked, quietly supporting her after Nayeon refused help with her loan.

.

.

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Since they had a month before graduation, they planned to visit each other's houses next week.

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A/N: this MINA POV might be confusing for some reader, 

[related to Akaito - TCC]

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Mina POV

I filled the fridge with chocolate milk, fruits, veggies, meat—everything. It had been empty for too long.

"Minari!!" Father dropped his bags and ran to hug me. I hugged him back, heart full. 

Later, I complained about the instant food wrappers I'd found in the trash. He only chuckled.

"What are you going to do if I get married? Who's going to take care of you, father? Go on a blind date. I'll support you!" I teased.

He scratched his neck, smiling sheepishly. "I don't think anyone would like me," 

I snatched his phone and texted Aunt Momo before he could protest. When I got his "Yes," he grinned like a kid.

"Take the chance, father. Don't wait." I shoved the phone back to him. He nodded and scampered off, trying not to look too hopeful.

Then he said something that stopped me cold.

"Minarii." He took a deep breath. His eyes were strange—soft and far away. "It's time I tell you everything."

My stomach clenched. "What do you mean?"

He sat down, swallowed, and said quietly, "I'm not your biological father"

"You can call me oppa or hyung," he rushed on, "if oppa is too mushy. But I found you—at the church before sunrise. I remember holding you, I promised then, I raised you because I wanted to"

My brain short-circuited. For a second, I couldn't move.

Tears came into his eyes. He covered them with his palm and laughed, shaky. "I still remember the first time I met you and held you. I wanted to tell you earlier, but I—"

I wrapped my arms around him without thinking. He started crying then, and I cried with him. The gratitude that flooded me felt too big for words. "i don't know if any words could express my gratitude, I really reallly appreciate you for telling me now, it's never too late, and thank you for raising me..., I know... thankyou is never enough"

"thankyou too,," He hugged me a little bit tighter, gently stroking my hair before letting go.

He then told me about grandpa, about working hard, about wanting to be enough. He never wanted to be "just" a guardian—he wanted to be family.

We laughed afterward to ease the tension. He joked about whether I should call him Dubu oppa or Dubu hyung.

"Hyung?" I echoed, smiling.

"Up to you, Mi" He grinned.

There was something familiar in that moment—an echo like déjà vu I couldn't place. It felt right, like a memory trying to surface.

i don't know why calling him Hyung doesn't sound foreign to me, like it was supposed to be like this

Are we related in a previous life? I wondered.

The thought hovered, uncomfortably warm, and then I was too grateful for Dubu Hyung.