Moon's Whisper, Heart's Echo

45. The Healing

The morning air was cool and crisp, the faint smell of dew clinging to the earth.

Winter had begun to set in.

Min-joon had been at archery practice for hours, his small frame bent in concentration as he worked to draw the bow just right.

The soft twang of arrows slicing the air had echoed through the courtyard until, at some point, it stopped.

Nandi standing beside lord Park, had noticed first, her brows furrowing as she glanced toward the courtyard.

"He's taking a while," she murmured, worry creeping into her voice.

Tae-young, standing near the doorway, nodded. "I'll go find him."

He followed the path Min-joon had taken, the crunch of gravel under his feet the only sound in the quiet morning. The boy's absence wasn't unusual—he had a habit of wandering off when he got lost in thought—but something about the stillness felt off.

Tae-young found him in a small alcove near the back garden, huddled against the base of a tree. His small shoulders were shaking slightly, his face buried in his knees.

"Min-joon-ah," Tae-young called softly as he crouched down, his knees brushing the earth. His voice was calm, steady, though his heart felt tight in his chest. "What's wrong? Why are you hiding here?"

The boy didn't answer right away. He curled into himself, his arms hugging his knees. "You don't have to anymore," Min-joon mumbled.

Tae-young tilted his head, concern etched into his features. "Don't have to what?"

A moment of silence hung between them, the kind that felt heavier than words. Slowly, Min-joon lifted his head just enough to reveal his tear-streaked face, his eyes red and puffy. His lip wobbled as he spoke. "Are you... playing a joke on me?"

Tae-young blinked, his brows knitting in confusion. "A joke? What do you mean?"

Min-joon's small hands fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve as his gaze dropped to the ground. "Is it because... because I asked you to pretend to be my father that time? Are you... are you joking with me now? Everyone keeps saying you're my father."

Realization dawned on Tae-young like a weight pressing on his chest. His heart ached at the boy's words, at the confusion and hurt written across his face. Gently, he reached out, his hand resting on Min-joon's small shoulder. "Oh no, Min-joon-ah. No, no..." His voice softened, taking on the tender tone he used to soothe him after nightmares. "Why would I ever joke about something like that?"

"But... but my father..." Min-joon's voice cracked as he looked up, his wide eyes shimmering with fresh tears. "He left. He's gone. And now... now you're here. I don't understand."

Tae-young exhaled slowly, lowering himself fully to the ground so they were eye level. The weight of the moment pressed on him, but he kept his voice calm, steady, for Min-joon's sake. "Your father... the one you knew before... he loved you very much in his own way." Tae-young paused, choosing his words carefully. "But sometimes, the heavens have plans we can't understand. And sometimes, they send us someone who was meant to be with us all along."

Min-joon sniffled, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. "Is that... is that why we had to give blood? So the heavens could decide?"

Tae-young nodded slowly, his hand moving to cup Min-joon's cheek. "That's right. And the heavens, they confirmed something very special. Something I always felt deep in my heart but didn't know for sure until now." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a faint birthmark on his forearm. "Do you see this?"