𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 ( 𝐀 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬)

•28•

Seoul, South Korea

Hoseok stood outside the door, hearing faint murmuring from inside. He hesitated. He frowned, leaning closer.

"Do you remember this dress, sweetheart? You looked like a little sunflower in it," Hye-joo's voice cooed gently.

There was a pause.

Then silence

"I missed you so much… I thought you would never come back to me."

Hoseok's stomach turned, that voice it was only his mother's now. But she was responding to someone.

Someone who wasn't there.

He opened the door slowly, the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Hye-joo sat on the floor, holding a dress in her lap. A small yellow one. One they hadn’t seen in years.

"Mom?" Hoseok's voice cracked as he stepped in.

She didn't look up. Instead, she rocked slightly, humming an lullaby.

Hoseok's breath caught in his throat. "Mom... there's no one here."

She finally turned to him, eyes glistening. But there was a strange, peaceful smile on her face.

"She came to see me," she whispered. "Our little girl. She said she forgives us."

Hoseok froze, his heart aching.

"No… Mom," he said softly, crouching beside her. "She's not-"

"Don't say it," she snapped suddenly, clutching the dress tighter. "Don't erase her again."

A tear slipped down Hoseok's cheek. "We never erased her. We just… couldn't handle the way you held on."

Silence again.

Then Hye-joo whispered, "She's still here. In this house. I feel her." Hoseok didn't move for a while.

The room felt heavy with ghosts memories too loud to ignore, yet too fragile to touch.

He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, still watching her fingers trace the stitching on the little yellow dress.

"She would've loved this dinner," Hoseok murmured, breaking the silence. "The chaos. The noise. Everyone yelling over each other about dumb things."

Hye-joo smiled faintly, eyes still lost in that dream.

"She used to make us all dance at the table," Hoseok added, chuckling softly. "Said you had the funniest moves."

Hye-joo's grip on the dress loosened. "She said I was her best friend," she whispered, as if hearing her daughter's voice again.

"You were," Hoseok smiled. "But she made you light."

Silence again.

But it was different now.

Quieter.

Not empty just full of everything left unsaid for years.

Hye-joo's voice trembled. "Do you think I'm going crazy, Hoseok-ah?"

He shook his head immediately. "No."

"I think you're a mother who's trying not to forget."

She finally looked at him, and in her eyes, Hoseok saw the years of silent suffering grief she had packed away into corners where no one could reach.

"She didn't want us to forget either," Hoseok added gently. "But she wouldn't want us to break because of it."