𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑜𝑛 / 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

S2 ch 63

*One Week Later*

The house was quieter than it had ever been.

Rafayel had done something no one expected—he offered to be the sole provider. As the son of a powerful mafia family, he had access to resources none of them could imagine. And for once, he wasn’t using that power to control or demand. He used it to serve.

“All I want,” he had told them one night at the kitchen table, “is for Jiwon and Jisung to recover without stress. I’ll cover rent, food, everything. You don’t even have to see me. Just… let me do this.”

Minho had hesitated. “Why?”

Rafayel looked down, fingers loosely gripping a cup of untouched coffee. “Because it’s the only way I can be near him without hurting him.”

A heavy silence had followed. Then Felix spoke softly.

“…If he remembers someday, you know it could go either way, right?”

“I know,” Rafayel said. “But if he does remember me, I want it to be with clean hands. No fights. No broken hearts. Just… peace.”

And that was how Rafayel became the ghost of the house. There, but not really. Present, but never intruding.

~ Hospital Discharge Day ~

Jiwon sat on the edge of his hospital bed, dressed in oversized sweats and holding a small duffel bag in his lap. Jisung was crouched in front of him, tying the laces of Jiwon’s shoes with gentle hands.

“You ready to go home?” Jisung asked, glancing up.

Jiwon hesitated. “I don’t… remember it. The house.”

“That’s okay,” Jisung reassured him. “We’ll reintroduce you. It’s like meeting an old friend again. You’ll get used to it.”

Jiwon looked uncertain. “Will he be there?”

“…Rafayel?”

Jiwon nodded slightly.

“He lives there too,” Jisung said honestly. “But he’s not… in your face. He works a lot. Comes home late. Doesn’t really talk to anyone.”

“Feels weird,” Jiwon murmured. “He looks at me like… he knows me. But I don’t know him.”

Jisung stood up and gave a small smile. “He does know you. But he’s keeping his distance. You don’t have to worry. We’re all here, okay?”

Jiwon’s hand reached up, tugging on the hem of Jisung’s hoodie like a child. “Stay close?”

Jisung’s voice softened. “Always.”

---

The living room was warm and filled with soft light. Jiwon sat cross-legged on the floor with a cupcake tray in front of him. He’d tried baking.

It hadn’t gone well.

There was flour on the table, on his cheek, and possibly in his hair. The cupcakes had collapsed in the center, gooey and uneven.

Felix peeked in and burst into laughter. “What happened in here? Looks like a snowstorm in a bakery!”

Jiwon looked up, lips pouting. “I followed the recipe…”

Hyunjin slid beside him, inspecting a cupcake. “Well, they’re… abstract. Modern art.”

“They’re ruined,” Jiwon mumbled.

“No, they’re adorable,” Jisung said, appearing behind him. “Like you.”

Jiwon’s ears turned red. He flicked flour at Jisung half-heartedly. “You’re just saying that.”