By the time the shopping spree ended, the counter looked like it had survived a storm.
Bags. So many bags.
Paper bags. Fabric bags. Branded bags stacked on top of each other like a poorly planned tower.
Do-Hyun stood proudly beside them.
"Well," he said, stretching, "guess this is what losing looks like."
He reached for his wallet.
Ha-Joon stepped forward instead.
"I'll pay."
Do-Hyun blinked. "Hyung, I lost the game."
"I know."
Seo-Jun's professional smile twitched as the cashier rang everything up.
He smoothly stepped in, taking bags—then more bags—then all the bags.
Each time another one was added to his arms, his posture stayed perfect.
Inside his head?
This is not in my job description. I have a master's degree.I should be negotiating contracts, not carrying half a mall.
A bag slipped.
Seo-Jun adjusted it instantly, deadpan.
"Sir," he said politely to Ha-Joon, "next time you win a game, please lose."
Ha-Joon didn't even look at him. He handed over his card.
Transaction complete.
Ji-Ah stared at the receipt like it personally offended her. "You didn't have to—"
"I did," Ha-Joon said simply.
She hesitated, then bowed slightly. "Thank you."
Before he could reply, Nisa hooked an arm through Ji-Ah's and dragged her away.
"COME ON."
Ji-Ah yelped. "Wait—Nisa—"
Nisa turned sharply to Do-Hyun, eyes sparkling. "I want to go to the spa. I told you."
Do-Hyun laughed. "Yes. You did."
"I'm going with Ji-Ah," Nisa added decisively.
Ji-Ah froze. "Me?"
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
Ji-Ah panicked instantly, hands waving. "Girl, I have to go home. I have to make dinner. I will burn something. Someone will starve."
Nisa blinked slowly.
Then she turned toward Ha-Joon, clasping her hands. "Oppa Joon—"
Before she could finish, Ha-Joon spoke, calm and final.
"Don't be late."
Ji-Ah's mouth fell open.
"…That's it?" she whispered.
Nisa grinned. "See? Approved."
Seo-Jun, still buried under bags, muttered, "Unbelievable," as he followed them.
Ha-Joon watched Ji-Ah being dragged away—complaining, flustered, already losing the argument.
And somehow…
Dinner didn't seem like the main thing on his mind anymore.
They got into the car soon after.
Ha-Joon took the driver's seat without a word, hands steady on the wheel, his expression unreadable as ever.
Seo-Jun settled into the front passenger seat, carefully stacking the shopping bags by his feet like it was a mission requiring precision.
Do-Hyun slid into the back, relaxed, one arm draped over the seat.
The car pulled out of the parking lot.
Do-Hyun broke the silence first, a teasing grin on his face.
"Hyung," he said lazily, "why did you let her go so easily?"
Ha-Joon's eyes stayed on the road. "It's important."
Seo-Jun blinked, glancing sideways.
"She's been working hard," he added, professional as always.
Do-Hyun chuckled.
"Yeah. Very hard." Then he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice. "You're getting soft."
Ha-Joon didn't react. Not immediately.
The streetlights slid across his face as the car slowed at a red light.
Then, calmly—almost casually—he said, "And Do-Hea is coming back."
The air in the car shifted.
Seo-Jun straightened instantly, his playful demeanor gone.
"When?" he asked.
Do-Hyun's smile faded, his brows drawing together. "You're serious?"
Ha-Joon nodded once. "Yes."
The light turned green.
The car moved forward again, but the quiet that followed was heavier than before—like everyone understood that whatever peace they'd had was about to crack.
--
Nisa pulled Ji-Ah by the wrist and stopped in front of a brightly lit storefront.
Ji-Ah squinted at the sign."…You said spa."
Nisa turned, offended. "Excuse you—this is part of the spa."
Ji-Ah read it aloud slowly. "Luna Bloom Hair Studio."
Nisa grinned. "Girls' night out is a process."
Before Ji-Ah could protest, Nisa—Chayananisa, when she was feeling dramatic—dragged her inside.
The salon smelled like shampoo and citrus. Soft music played in the background. The stylists looked up, immediately clocking the energy.
"Ohhh," one of them smiled. "Bad day?"
Nisa dropped into a chair like she'd been personally betrayed by the universe. "Men."
The stylist nodded solemnly. "Say no more."
Ji-Ah laughed as she sat beside her. "She kidnapped me. I was promised a spa."
"You'll get it," Nisa said, waving a hand. "But first—we fix the hair. Emotional recovery starts at the scalp."
The stylist snorted. "That's actually true."
As they washed their hair, the conversation flowed easily.
"So," Nisa said, eyes closed, "how's working in the boss's office?"
Ji-Ah groaned. "Don't."
"Oh, I will," Nisa teased. "Wind blowing, curtains dramatic, him standing there all tall and quiet—"
"That is not how it happened."
The stylist leaned in. "It definitely happened like that."
Ji-Ah covered her face. "You're all against me."
Nisa peeked at her. "Do you hate him?"
"…Yes."
"That pause was suspicious."
"It was a thinking pause."
The stylist laughed. "Honey, thinking pauses are dangerous."
By the time they moved to the chairs, foils in hair and capes on, they were laughing properly now—real laughter, the kind that loosened the chest.
Nisa glanced at Ji-Ah through the mirror. "You know, you don't smile like this at home."
Ji-Ah softened. "I know."
"Well," Nisa said gently, then immediately ruined the moment, "we'll fix that too. After this, spa. Steam room. Face masks. And zero men."
"Do-Hyun counts as zero," Ji-Ah said quickly.
Nisa gasped. "Traitor."
Even the stylist laughed.
Nisa leaned back in the salon chair, crossing her legs as she studied Ji-Ah through the mirror.
The place smelled like shampoo and warm air, soft music humming in the background.
The stylist worked quietly, clearly enjoying the vibe without inserting herself.
"You always dodge this question," Nisa said lightly, nudging, not pushing. "Your family."
Ji-Ah paused. Not stiff—just thoughtful. Then she smiled, small but real.
"I have one," she said.
Nisa's eyebrows lifted. "Okay… go on."
"A sister," Ji-Ah continued. "Older. Bossy. Thinks she raised me."
She laughed softly. "A brother too. Younger, loud, dramatic. He still calls me when he can't find his socks."
Nisa chuckled. "Of course he does."
"And my dad," Ji-Ah added, her voice dropping just a touch. "It's been the four of us for a long time."
Nisa watched her carefully. "You miss them."
Ji-Ah exhaled, eyes following her own reflection. "Every day. But… they're strong. My sister pretends she doesn't need help. My brother wants to be a hero too early."
She smiled again, this time a little crooked. "Someone has to make sure they're okay."
Nisa nodded, softer now. "That explains a lot, you know."
"Explains what?" Ji-Ah asked.
"Why you act tough but still look like you'll cry over spilled coffee," Nisa teased.
Ji-Ah gasped. "Hey— that coffee was important."
They both laughed, the sound easy and warm. Even the stylist snorted quietly before catching herself.
Nisa reached over and squeezed Ji-Ah's hand. "You're doing well. For them. For you."
Ji-Ah looked down at their joined hands, then back up, eyes bright."Yeah," she said. "I'm trying."