MOMMA'S LITTLE BUNNY

Chapter 1: Docter jimin

The morning sun bathed the grand Busan Hospital in a golden glow, highlighting its stunning sea-facing architecture. The sky, a clear blue canvas, was dotted with soft, cotton-like clouds that lazily drifted by. A calm breeze carried the subtle sound of the waves, creating an atmosphere of serenity that wrapped around the bustling hospital. People moved in and out of the grand entrance as they did every day, but today felt different—there was a stillness in the air, a sense of something about to unfold.

Busan Hospital, a sanctuary of care for both the rich and poor alike, was renowned across the country. Its founders, Dr. Kim Namjoon and Dr. Kim Seokjin, had built it with a singular vision: to provide top-notch medical care at affordable prices. Their dream wasn't just a building—it was a beacon of hope for those who had nowhere else to turn. Established in 1995, the hospital was a testament to their love for both each other and the healing power of medicine. Their kindness was legendary, spoken about in every corner of South Korea. Even after decades, people still whispered about the couple who built an empire of care with nothing but compassion as their foundation.

On this particular Monday, Dr. Kim Namjoon, the dean of Busan Medical College and the hospital, strode through the corridors with his usual stern expression, his gaze sharp and watchful. Dressed immaculately in a black suit, white shirt perfectly pressed, he exuded authority. Every crease, every detail of his appearance was flawless, just like the man himself. His face, though serious, couldn't hide the charm of his signature dimpled smile that appeared every time a doctor greeted him. His thick glasses only enhanced the distinguished look of a man who, despite being in his fifties, was as handsome as ever. His salt-and-pepper hair, a blend of black and silver, added to his striking appeal. He didn't just turn heads—he commanded attention. Even now, love letters and roses mysteriously appeared on his desk from admirers too smitten by his charm to resist.

Dr. Kim Namjoon wasn't just any doctor. He was a world-renowned surgeon, a highly respected cardiologist, and the chairperson of the South Korean Doctors Association (SKDA). His groundbreaking research and decades of expertise had earned him a reputation few could rival. Some even referred to him as a god in the world of medicine. But today, his eyes were focused, his mind not on his many accolades, but on the hospital around him. As he walked, the usual hum of the hospital quieted. His presence had that effect—transforming the busiest of places into a sanctuary of silence, respect, and order.

Everything seemed in place until he reached the second floor. There, something caught his attention. The pediatrician's chamber, usually filled with young patients and concerned parents, was eerily empty. And there, sitting by herself, lost in thought, was Dr. Jimin—his daughter.

The stern dean became a concerned father in an instant.

He knocked three times, but no response came. Jimin was staring out the window, the sea reflecting in her eyes as she sat, clearly lost in her thoughts. He knocked again, a little harder this time. Still nothing. Frowning, Namjoon walked into the room without waiting for permission, his footsteps barely making a sound. He approached her quietly, standing beside her for a moment before softly calling, "Dr. Jimin." Twice he said her name, but her gaze didn't waver from the horizon.

Finally, he placed a firm hand on her shoulder and spoke louder, "Dr. Jimin."

Startled, Jimin jerked her head up, her hand flying to her chest as if to still her racing heart. "Appa, you scared me!" she exclaimed, her voice high and breathless. She tried to make light of it, dramatically pressing her hand to her chest as if her heart might leap out any second. Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his stern expression softening just a bit.

"What were you thinking so deeply about that you didn't even hear me knock? I called your name three times," he said, his tone laced with mild frustration, but mostly concern.