Entangled Fates: SaMo

Chapter 19

As the demands of a busy workday pressed on, I found a moment to instruct my assistant to send get-well-soon balloons and a cute teddy bear to Sana at the hospital. The company had been thriving, and even though my schedule was hectic, the success and growth of the business brought a sense of fulfillment.

The familiar sound of the coffee machine filled the air as I prepared yet another cup, my sleep-deprived eyes betraying the toll of restless nights spent worrying about Sana. Caffeine had become my reluctant companion, attempting to ward off the persistent fatigue that clung to me.

As the rich aroma of the coffee hit me, my phone chimed with an incoming message. An unknown number appeared on the screen, but the message revealed a familiar name –Mina. Surprise flicker in my tired eyes as I read her words: "Hey, it's Mina. The doctor told us that her head injury is getting better and she might wake up sooner than later."

Amid the caffeine–induced haze, I couldn't help but question how Mina got my phone number. Regardless, gratitude washed over me, and I swiftly replied, "Thank you for letting me know," before resuming the ritual of making my coffee. The promise of better news for Sana brought a glimmer of hope, easing the weight that had settled on my shoulders.

Rushing to the meeting room with just five minutes to spare, I found everyone already gathered. The energy in the room buzzed with anticipation as one of the teams prepared to present their ideas to me. Despite the excitement, I noted areas where their concepts needed refinement.

As the presentation unfolded, my mind clicked into analytical mode. The team had good ideas, but it was evident they lacked certain crucial elements. I leaned forward, offering detailed advice and insights to guide them toward a more comprehensive and impactful strategy.

The meeting stretched on longer than anticipated, but it was clear the team was receptive to the feedback. Engaged in the exchange of ideas, the atmosphere evolved into a collaborative effort to refine and enhance their approach. Despite the initial time constraints, the meeting concluded on a positive note, the sense of progress lingered in the air as everyone left the room.

Finally freeing myself from the clutches of work, tidying up my office and organizing the scattered papers, a wave of anticipation surged through me. The hospital, not too far from my company, beckoned me with the promise of Sana's presence. The prospect of seeing her face again infused me with excitement.

However, as I approached the hospital, my enthusiasm collided with a swarm of paparazzi. Their presence signaled that Sana's family might be inside, and I envisioned the barrage of questions awaiting them once they stepped out. Determined not to contribute to the chaos, I pivoted and retraced my steps to my car.

Grabbing a hat and sunglasses, I opted for a discrete approach, making my way to the second entrance. The anticipation of reconnecting with Sana fueled my determination to navigate the media circus and ensure that our meeting remained a private, quiet moment amidst the chaos surrounding her.

Inside the elevator, the buzz of hushed conversations surrounded me. People speculated about the Minatozaki family's presence. Stepping out of the elevator, the atmosphere outside Sana's room seemed charged.

As I approached, the heated exchange of two men echoed through the hallway. Their voices reverberated with anger and frustration. One man demanded in Japanese, "Who is responsible for this incident? I want that person rotting in jail for the rest of their lives."

The other man reassured, "Dad, I've taken care of it. It's okay. I have connections, and I won't let them walk free." Peeking discreetly into the room, I recognized the elderly figures from the pictures in Sana's office. Her grandparent stood firm, the old man wielding a cane like a stern pointer as he emphasized his words. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily in the air, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation at the intensity of their emotions.

Watching the intense exchange from the outside, I could see Sana's grandmother stepping in, demanding silence in the room. Her stern words instructed the two men to take their argument elsewhere, away from the presence of her granddaughter. The men acquiesced, quickly nodding in agreement and taking their seats.

As I observed, startled by the confrontation, I noticed Jihyo sneaking up beside me. I apologized for not realizing her presence, but she simply laughed it off. Jihyo suggested we enter the room, but I hesitated, insisting it was fine and that I could return later. Unyielding, Jihyo opened the door, ushering us both inside.

The atmosphere inside the room shifted as we entered, the tension from the earlier confrontation lingering. Sana's grandmother greeted us with a stern look. I greeted everyone in Japanese, a warm "Konnichiwa" escaped my lips. Introducing myself as Momo, I sensed a subtle surprise on Sana's grandparents' faces. Their eyes held a curiosity that prompted me to explain in Japanese that I was born in Japan but had moved to Korea to assist my mom.

Jihyo, in her thoughtful manner, chimed in, elaborating that I was a friend of Sana who had been a constant visitor since her hospital admission. The revelation seemed to bridge the gap, and the initial surprise evolved into a shared understanding.

Her grandparents, showing a genuine interest, began asking about my experiences in Japan and my reasons for moving. The conversation flowed seamlessly, blending the present moment with reflections on my background. In the heartwarming turn of events, Sana's grandmother, a kind smile gracing her face, offered me snacks they had brought from Japan. The exchange became more than words; it was a shared appreciation for the culture.

Grateful for the unexpected connections, I accepted the offered snacks, savoring the flavors of Japan that now intertwined with the conversations and newfound camaraderie in the room.

As the hours passed, Sana's father decided it was time for his parents to head home, leaving only Jihyo in the room. Sana, still unconscious, showed signs of improvement –her skin regaining color, a positive update from the doctor an hour ago.

Observing the changes, I couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and hope for when Sana would finally wake up. Jihyo, breaking the silence, turned to me and asked, "So, what are you going to do with my sister when she wakes up?" Uncertain but sincere, I replied, "I think I just want to be with her and do whatever she wants me to do." Jihyo, with a knowing smile, predicted, "She's going to hate the fact that she's in the hospital. Her biggest flex before was that she was never admitted. Silly, right?"

Laughing together, we shared a moment of lightheartedness amid the seriousness of the situation. Wanting to shift the focus, I asked Jihyo about her new role as CEO. She responded, "It's been hard. I thought I was ready for it, but you really don't know until you're fully in charge of everyone."

Jihyo's question about my profession led to a realization. "Aren't you also in the magazine business? I guess you and Sana are more similar than I thought." I couldn't help but smile. Responding, I shared a tidbit about my own journey. "Yeah, Sana was actually my mentor for a while, but it was through a program. We didn't know about each other's real information until much later."

As the evening stretched, I knew it was time to bid goodbye to Sana and Jihyo. The visit had been more than I expected, and I felt a warmth in my heart knowing I had met all of Sana's family, each member leaving an impression of kindness.