The car ride was stifling, tense in a way that made the air feel thick.
Their aunt sat in the front seat, arms folded tightly, her foot tapping against the floorboard. She didn't speak, but the sharp exhale of every breath and the occasional shift in her seat made her irritation clear.
Haneul inched closer to his brother, his small fingers tightening around Jihoon's as he sought comfort.
Jihoon gently patted his hand, offering a reassuring smile. "It'sokay," he mouthed, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it for Haneul or for himself.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the funeral home, its dark silhouette standing solemnly against the gray sky. A cold breeze drifted through the air, rustling the trees that lined the pathway leading inside.
Jihoon stepped out first, adjusting Haneul's coat before taking his hand. Near the entrance, mourners stood in small clusters, some speaking in hushed tones while others dabbed at their eyes with handkerchiefs.
As they walked inside, they passed other funeral sections, each marked by a framed portrait and grieving families clad in mourning black. Soft weeping echoed through the hall, blending with murmured words of comfort exchanged between the bereaved.
Haneul pressed closer to Jihoon, his small fingers gripping the fabric of his sleeve. The weight of sorrow in the air made the child tense, his usual curiosity dulled by the heavy atmosphere. Jihoon gave his hand a reassuring squeeze and guided him forward.
When they finally reached their section, Jihoon's gaze landed on the large portrait at the altar. His grandfather's familiar face stared back at him, dignified even in stillness. White flowers surrounded the frame, their delicate blooms a stark contrast to the heaviness of loss that filled the room.
Their aunt and uncle were already at the front, exchanging greetings with relatives and guests.
It was then that Jihoon noticed her.
A older woman stood near the altar, dressed in mourning attire that was elegant yet understated.
He had never seen her at any family gatherings before, but there was something familiar about her face.
His grandfather had often spoken of a sibling who lived in Seoul. Couldthisbeher?
Jihoon studied her features again and couldn't deny the resemblance.
A part of him wanted to approach her, but for now, he stayed with Haneul.
Taking his brother's hand, Jihoon led him to the altar. They knelt together, bowing deeply before their grandfather's portrait. The scent of incense curled through the air as they offered a silent prayer.
After placing their incense sticks among the others, Jihoon gave his brother a reassuring pat on the back before guiding him to a cushioned bench. Then, he stepped away to help with the funeral arrangements.
He moved quietly, refilling tea cups, arranging food trays, and clearing away empty dishes.
Time passed, and the sky outside darkened to an inky blue. Most of the visitors had left, leaving only close family members scattered throughout the hall. The scent of incense had dulled, mingling with the faint aroma of cooling tea and wilted flowers.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy stomps shattered the solemn silence.
Heads turned toward the entrance as a man stormed inside, his disheveled suit and staggering steps betraying his drunken state. Jihoon tensed immediately.
It was the younger uncle, Mansik.
He reeked of alcohol, wildly waving a crumpled stack of papers in his hand.
"Father, how could you do this?" His slurred voice rang through the hall, thick with resentment. "No. I don't accept this. I won't!"
The guests who had remained exchanged wary glances, uncomfortable with the sudden outburst.
From the other side of the room, an older man stepped in, his neatly pressed suit and composed demeanor a striking opposition to Mansik's disarray.
"Give that back," he ordered, seizing the documents from Mansik's grasp.
His keen eyes scanned the papers before tucking them securely under his arm. "How dare you take official documents without permission?"
Mansik's face twisted with fury. "Y-you eexpect me…to stay quiet? After t-this?!" His words were nearly unintelligible, his anger barely held back by his drunken state. He lurched forward as if to snatch them back, but several relatives intervened, gripping his arms before he could get any closer.
"Mansik, enough."
"Have some respect. This is a funeral."
Their firm voices tried to calm him, but Mansik thrashed in their hold, his chest heaving as he fought against their restraint.
Jihoon remained still, watching the scene unfold. He glanced back toward the altar, where his grandfather's portrait remained undisturbed amidst the chaos.
Even in death, the old man's decisions still had the power to stir resentment.
Mansik's eyes burned with anger as he staggered forward, jabbing a trembling finger at Jihoon. "Father… left his property to him? To this- this kid?!"
His slurred revelation sent a ripple of shock through the room.
Silence hung thick in the air before murmurs broke out. A commotion erupted as relatives exchanged bewildered glances, struggling to process what they had just heard.
"He left nothing to us?"
"Not a single cent?"
It was unfathomable. Their father, who had spent years upholding the family's reputation, had chosen to leave everything to Jihoon- the child of the very son he had spent years resenting.
"This must be a mistake," one of the relatives scoffed. "There's no way this is legitimate."
"The will has to be fake!"
At the center of the chaos, the old family lawyer remained composed. Adjusting his glasses, he raised the document. "This is his official will," he stated firmly. "And everything will be carried out as per his wishes."
Mansik let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "T-Thiss…this is absurd! We're his children! His real family! How could he--"
Now, the weight of their anger shifted.
Jihoon felt it the moment their eyes directed toward him and his brother.
Haneul shrank back, pressing himself against Jihoon's leg. A steady hand rested on his back, holding him close as the voices around them grew louder.
"They don't deserve this inheritance."
"They aren't even properly part of this family."
"Just because they lost their parents, does that mean they're entitled to everything?"
"They don't deserve this more than we do. Is this serious?!"
Jihoon clenched his jaw, his grip on Haneul instinctively tightening. But before he could say a word, a piercing voice slice through the commotion.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Their taunts died down instantly, and all heads turned toward the old woman standing near the altar.
Her once graceful features hardened into a deep scowl.