Beneath the Same Moon

1

The field behind the estate stretched endlessly, golden blades of grass swaying in the wind like waves on a calm ocean. Sunghoon sprinted ahead, his bare feet skimming the earth, arms stretched wide as if he could take flight. Behind him, a smaller figure struggled to keep up, tripping over his own chubby legs.

"Wait for me, Hoonie!"

The high-pitched cry brought a smile to Sunghoon's face, and he slowed, turning back to see his four-year-old brother sprawled on the ground. His dark mop of hair was tousled, and his cheeks were smeared with dirt, but his wide eyes gleamed with determination.

"You're too slow, Daeho!" Sunghoon teased, jogging back and crouching in front of him. "How are you going to keep up with me if you fall every five steps?"

Daeho pouted, tiny hands clenching handfuls of grass. "I'm not slow! The ground is mean!"

Sunghoon laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. "Alright, alright. Come on, I'll help you." He extended a hand, which Daeho grabbed eagerly, and pulled him to his feet.

The younger boy wobbled but steadied himself, gripping Sunghoon's hand tightly. "Where are we going?"

Sunghoon glanced toward the hill in the distance, its silhouette softened by the hazy afternoon sun. "Somewhere special. But you have to promise not to cry if it's too hard to climb."

"I'm not a baby," Daeho declared, puffing out his chest.

"Sure, you're a big, brave kid," Sunghoon said with a grin, but his tone was gentle, a quiet reassurance woven into his words.

Hand in hand, they trudged toward the hill, their laughter rising and falling with the wind.

When they reached the top, Daeho gasped. "It's so high!"

Sunghoon knelt to let Daeho down, watching as the boy stumbled forward, spinning in circles with his arms outstretched. Below them, the estate seemed small, the carefully manicured gardens and grand house nothing more than a distant painting.

Sunghoon dropped into the grass, lying on his back and letting the cool blades tickle his skin. "Told you it was special."

Daeho plopped down beside him, his small hand finding Sunghoon's again. "You're the best, Hoonie."

Sunghoon glanced at him, his little brother's face framed by the golden light of the setting sun. "You're lucky I like you," he said, squeezing Daeho's hand.

The boy giggled, his laugh as light as the breeze.

—

The heavy clink of silverware echoed through the dining hall, each sound sharp against the oppressive silence. Sunghoon, now nineteen, sat rigid at the long table, his posture betraying none of the unease that simmered beneath his calm exterior. Across from him, his father methodically cut into his steak, every movement deliberate.

"Your engagement with Jiyeon has been delayed long enough," his father said, not looking up. "The Kang family has been patient, but their patience has limits."

Sunghoon's grip tightened around his fork. He kept his gaze down, fixed on the barely touched food on his plate.

"Her father's connections will secure contracts that we've struggled to maintain," his mother added, her voice smooth and practiced. "This match is not just a formality, Sunghoon. It's a necessity."

To his left, Daeho, now fifteen, shifted uncomfortably. His youthful energy was subdued in the stifling atmosphere, his eyes darting between Sunghoon and their parents. He fidgeted with his knife, the scrape against the plate drawing an annoyed glance from their father.

"I don't want to marry her," Sunghoon said quietly, his voice steady despite the pounding in his chest.

The room fell into a charged silence. His father set his utensils down with a measured clatter, finally looking at him.

"This is not about what you want," he said, his tone colder than the marble floors beneath their feet. "It's about duty. Responsibility. You'll meet Eunseo next week, and the engagement will proceed as planned."

Sunghoon's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

"You can't keep pretending this is a choice," his mother added, her words cutting despite the softness of her tone. "The longer you delay, the more you jeopardize this family's future."

Sunghoon's chest felt heavy, the weight of their expectations pressing down like a vice. He glanced at Daeho, who was staring at him with wide, worried eyes.

"May I be excused?" Sunghoon said abruptly, his voice sharper than he intended.

His father's eyes narrowed, but his mother waved a hand dismissively. "Go. Take your brother with you."

Daeho stood quickly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He trailed after Sunghoon as they left the dining hall, their footsteps muffled by the thick carpet.

When they reached the hallway, Daeho tugged at Sunghoon's sleeve. "Hoonie, are you okay?"

Sunghoon turned, his face softening as he looked at his younger brother. "Yeah," he lied. "I'm fine."

"You didn't seem fine in there," Daeho pressed, his voice quiet.

Sunghoon knelt, placing his hands on Daeho's shoulders. "Don't worry about me, okay? Let's go to the hill. Just like we used to."

Daeho hesitated but eventually nodded, his trust unwavering. Together, they slipped out of the house and into the night, the cool air brushing against their faces.

The hill loomed in the distance, its silhouette stark against the moonlit sky. Sunghoon led the way, his steps steady but his mind churning with thoughts he couldn't silence.

When they reached the top, Daeho dropped into the grass with a dramatic sigh, his energy slowly returning. "I missed this," he said, gazing up at the stars.

Sunghoon sat beside him, the distant lights of the estate twinkling below. "Me too."

Daeho leaned against him, his smaller frame warm and familiar. "I don't want you to get married if you don't want to," he said after a long silence.

Sunghoon's throat tightened, but he forced a smile. "Don't worry about that," he said, wrapping an arm around Daeho's shoulders. "I'll figure it out."

But even as he spoke, the weight of the lie settled heavily on his chest, the stars above offering no answers.