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It was an uncomfortable subject, his auntie. However, he didn't want to disappoint Setsu, since she seemed very pleased talking about her.

"No, I understand." Even if he didn't fully understand, he'd try his best. After all, not everyone saw his auntie the same way he did. He wished that he could think positively about her, but that was not the case.

"You know," Setsu said, turning off the stove and carrying the heavy pot over to the sink. "Yoriko sent us tons of photos of you."

Jisung's cheeks were dusted pink. It was embarrassing. He hoped they were at least good photos, but he knew his auntie didn't have a knack for photography.

"I'll show you later." She smiled.

Setsu seemed to enjoy talking about the past, and Jisung was more than willing to listen if it meant making his aunt happy. She'd done so much for him that he could only return the favor by being kind.

The two of them basked in silence. Every once in a while, Setsu would break out into a hum, and Jisung would laugh as she tried her best to get him to sing along to whatever tune she was attempting to play.

"Hey, look." Kiyomasa waltzed into the kitchen barefoot, his feet sticking to the floors. In his hands was a wind chime; however, it wasn't one of the ones that was usually outside. "I found a wind chime I made on our honeymoon."

It was a pretty chime, green with small orange and pink flowers hand-painted onto it. The pipes were long and slim. Jisung wondered what they sounded like.

Kiyomasa hung it up in the corner of the kitchen, close enough to the window so it could play.

"To survive the summer." He winked at Jisung, who winked back. Setsu glanced between the two men before shaking her head. "Help me set the table."

The three of them ate together. Jisung was growing accustomed to breakfast, lunch, and dinner with his aunt and uncle. The atmosphere was always lighthearted, and the food was delicious.

"Your hair's getting long." Setsu picked at a strand of Jisung's blonde hair, twirling it between her fingers.

Jisung shrugged. His bangs were slightly too long, but for the rest of his hair, he didn't mind.

Kiyomasa leaned over, ruffling his hair.

"Shall I give you a haircut?" he teased, making a cutting motion with his fingers. His happiness was short-lived when Setsu slapped away his hand. "That would be a disaster."

Jisung smiled at the two of them. Yes, they bickered, but in a loving way. He hoped that whoever he married would have a similar relationship as Setsu and Kiyomasa did.

After lunch, Jisung took a much-needed nap. He'd originally gone up to his room to sketch some more, but he somehow wound up asleep in bed. His sketchbook lazily dropped on his chest, open to his drawings of Minho. His fingers flexed against the spiral of his sketchbook, his nose scrunching whenever the cool air swept in from the window.

Next to him, splattered across the bedsheets were polaroids and developed photos—the ones Setsu had promised to show him. They were all of him; in most he was alone, but there were a few shots with his auntie and some of his supposed father.

He looked happy in these pictures, but he didn't remember his childhood being that joyous. There was a photograph of him eating ice cream, the vanilla dripping down his chin. Another was him on his first day of kindergarten, hugging his auntie tightly, his tear-stained cheeks red. They looked like a normal family.

Jisung wondered what had happened. What had caused the rift between them?

There were a couple of other ones hidden underneath the first few, but he'd seen enough. If he dwelled any longer on the past, he wouldn't be able to move forward.

When Minho Was There • MinsungWhere stories live. Discover now