He stood up abruptly, pulling her up with him thanks to the handcuffs, and pinned her against the wall. His grip on her wrist tightened.
Ni-ki leaned in closer, his voice a cold whisper. "You're playing with fire, angel. Don't think for a second tha...
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NI-KI SAT IN THE WHITE, quiet room, the only sound coming from the soft beeping of the machines monitoring his mother's vitals. Her frail body lay in the hospital bed, her once-vibrant face now pale, framed by the stark white sheets and dim lighting.
His father had stopped coming nearly as often, busy with his own life and responsibilities, leaving Ni-ki alone in familial matters. It wasn't that he minded, really; he'd been doing this for so long now. But sometimes, he wondered if his father even cared anymore.
Mr. Jin was standing outside the door, waiting for him to come out. It wasn't a comforting presence, but at least someone was there.
The silence stretched on, but Ni-ki didn't mind. He didn't feel the need to fill it with words. His mom had never been a woman of many words either—at least, not when it came to things like emotions. She'd always been strong, independent.
He remembered when she used to tell him he didn't need to worry about anything, that everything would always be fine. Now, he couldn't help but wish she'd said it more.
"I'm keeping things together, Mom," he said softly, his voice breaking the quiet air. His fingers drummed lightly on the armrest of his chair as he tried to gather his thoughts. "The company's doing alright. It's steady. It's under control."
He paused for a moment, watching her breathing. She didn't respond, of course, but he kept talking anyway.
"People don't hate me as much anymore. At least, that's what the numbers say." He forced out a chuckle. "The media's stopped calling me a monster, and I guess that's a win. They're focusing on the business now, the growth."
Ni-ki shifted in his seat, adjusting his posture. He stared at the floor for a moment, thinking. He wanted to try communicating better.
"I still don't know if I believe them. If I believe that what I'm doing is actually making a difference. But... they're not as quick to throw dirt at me anymore. At least not as much. I guess that means I'm doing something right."
He chuckled, though it was dry and distant.
"Doesn't mean I'm not tired, though. Tired of the expectations, the pressure. But that's the life we chose, huh?" He shook his head, brushing off the thought, focusing on the current reality instead. "I'm maintaining control, keeping it all together. The business, the public—at least that's one thing I can do right."
Ni-ki sighed, sinking deeper into the chair as he leaned back. His eyes traced the contours of his mother's face, the sharp lines that had softened over the years.
"I just hope it's enough, Mom. For you, for the company, for everyone who's depending on me."
The silence in the room felt heavier now, as if something was pressing down on him. He wasn't used to talking about personal things, especially not with his mother. But today, he felt like he needed to.
