Doyeon slowly pushed the car door open and stepped out, the faint click of it shutting behind him echoing quietly in the calm morning air.
For a moment, he just stood there.
In front of him— beyond the small gate and low white wall, was a house.
Not an apartment building, or some cramped city studio.
A real house.
Two stories tall, its white exterior slightly softened by time, with gray stone panels framing the entrance. A modest balcony stretched across the second floor, its railings painted the same pale color as the walls, and above it the slanted roof gave the whole place a strangely cozy shape.
Small windows sat neatly beneath the roofline, and a narrow chimney rose from the center like something pulled straight out of an old suburban postcard.
The yard wasn't big, but it was cared for.
Low shrubs lined the short stone path leading from the gate to the front door, their leaves still dotted with leftover droplets from the night's rain. A neatly trimmed tree stood off to the side, its branches hanging slightly over the fence like it had been watching the street for years.
The whole place felt… quiet.
Too quiet.
Doyeon slipped his hands into his pockets as he stared at it, his gaze lingering on the familiar details— the gate latch, the small mailbox mounted near the wall, even the tiny crack in one of the steps leading up to the entrance.
He hadn't seen this place in months.
Yet it looked exactly the same.
"Huh."
A quiet breath left his nose, almost like a tired laugh.
"Still the same."
He walked toward the gate, the metal creaking faintly as he pushed it open. The sound felt oddly loud in the otherwise peaceful neighborhood.
Step.
Step.
The damp stones of the walkway darkened beneath his shoes as he approached the front door. Each step slowed slightly, as if his body wasn't completely sure whether it should be here.
Doyeon stopped at the bottom of the small porch steps and looked up at the house again.
Memories drifted through his mind without warning.
Cooking smells drifting out of the kitchen window.
His mother yelling from upstairs for him to wake up.
Late-night arguments about school… about work… about the ghosts…
His fingers tightened slightly inside his pockets.
"Man."
He exhaled softly.
"The only reason I even left…"
His voice faded before he finished the sentence.
Because every time he came home with something following him… something unseen… something weird… this place stopped feeling safe.
For her.
Doyeon rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and looked down at the ground.
"Well."
Another small breath escaped him.
"I guess I'm back."
He stepped forward and climbed the short set of stairs to the front door.
Then he raised his hand.
And knocked.
Knock.
Knock.
The sound echoed faintly through the house.
Doyeon waited, staring at the door, suddenly feeling far more nervous than he had been while facing a literal ghost hours ago.
"Mom?" he called out, his voice a little hesitant.
Silence.
He scratched his cheek awkwardly.
"Please don't tell me she's not home."
After a while of waiting, the lock inside finally clicked.
The door slowly creaked open.
Standing there was a woman who looked like she was still in her late twenties rather than old enough to have a grown son.
Her brown hair was tied up into a big, messy bun, a few loose strands escaping around her face. Round glasses rested gently on her nose, and she wore a simple, loose dress, the kind of comfortable 'mom dress' people usually wore around the house.
For a second, she just stared at him.
Then her eyes widened.
"Doyeon…" she whispered softly.
The next moment, she moved.
Before he could even react, she lunged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling him into a strong hug like she was afraid he might disappear if she didn't hold him hard enough.
"My baby… sweetheart… my lovely cute boy." she murmured, squeezing him again.
Doyeon, meanwhile, barely reacted.
He just stood there, hands awkwardly at his sides, letting it happen like someone enduring a mildly inconvenient event rather than an emotional reunion.
"Yeah… sup, Mom."
Inside his head, the name surfaced automatically.
(Mom… Hyuna.)
After a moment, she finally pulled back, though her hands were still on his shoulders as she looked at him from head to toe, checking his face like she was making sure he was real.
Then her expression brightened again, and she stepped aside quickly, opening the door wider.
"Come in, come in!" she said happily.
Doyeon slipped past her into the house, the familiar smell of home hitting him the moment he crossed the doorway.
Hyuna closed the door behind him and turned back with curious eyes.
"What happened?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "What suddenly made you come back here?"
Doyeon stood in the entryway for a moment, scratching the back of his head awkwardly as if debating how honest he should be.
Then he sighed.
"It's… Mom…"
He glanced at her.
"I'm broke."
Silence.
A second passed.
Then another.
Hyuna blinked once.
"Oh."
Her smile slowly returned.
"That's my boy."
Hyuna didn't even give him time to take his shoes off properly before grabbing his hand.
"Come, come!" she said brightly, already pulling him down the hallway.
"Whoa— hey— mom." Doyeon stumbled slightly as she dragged him toward the kitchen like an excited kid showing off a surprise.
The moment they stepped inside, he froze.
The table was full.
Not just one or two dishes. Plates covered almost every inch of the table— steaming bowls, colorful side dishes, neatly arranged plates of food that looked freshly made.
Doyeon blinked.
"Uh… wow…" he muttered slowly, staring at the spread. "Why… is there this much food? Is today special or something?"
Hyuna ignored the question for a second, pushing him gently into a chair at the table.
"Sit first," she said, already moving around the kitchen with practiced ease.
Doyeon dropped into the chair, still staring at the dishes like he'd accidentally walked into a restaurant.
Meanwhile, Hyuna pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, smiling warmly as if this entire situation was perfectly normal.
"I heard a knock earlier," she explained cheerfully. "So I thought it might be you."
She gestured proudly at the table.
"So I prepared all of this."
Doyeon slowly turned his head toward her.
"Wait."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"So that's why you took forever to open the door?"
"Yep," she said without hesitation. "Sorry, sweetheart."
Without missing a second, she picked up a pair of chopsticks, grabbed a piece of sweet and sour pork, and placed it neatly onto his plate like she'd done it a thousand times before.
"Forgive your mommy for now," she said gently. "I'm just happy you're back."
Then something in her expression changed.
The smile softened.
Her eyes sharpened slightly behind the round lenses as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
"So…"
She leaned back a little in her chair.
"How long are you staying?"
Doyeon stiffened.
His face slowly twisted into an awkward expression.
"ಠ_ಠ …Uh…"
He scratched the back of his neck.
"Just… today, Mom."
A pause.
"I'll go tomorrow."
Across the table, Hyuna stared at him… hard (⌐■-■)