Threads of Fate (Catnipz)

A Stubborn Soul

Haerin's fingers closed around Minji's hand, a silent invitation, a promise to show her the parts of her life that remained, no matter how painful. The weight of the world seemed to press against Haerin's chest, but there was a flicker of resolve in her steps. As they walked, the air shifted around them, the sounds of the night fading into a distant hum. They moved in silence, the city stretching around them, until they arrived at a small, dimly lit house on the edge of the neighborhood.

The house was nothing special; small, run-down, with peeling paint on the walls and clutter strewn about the yard. Haerin led Minji to the door, hesitating only for a moment before she pushed it open. The inside smelled faintly of alcohol and something sour, the atmosphere heavy and thick with the remnants of a life that had gone off course.

In the living room, Haerin's father sat slumped in an old armchair, his head tilted back against the wall, a half-empty bottle of liquor clutched loosely in his hand. He was completely oblivious to the world around him, his eyes glazed over, lost in his own haze. The television flickered with static, casting an eerie glow across his features. He hadn't even noticed Haerin's absence, hadn't even noticed that his daughter had been in a coma for days.

Haerin's breath caught in her throat as she stepped forward, her heart aching. She had never expected to feel so distant, so invisible, to someone who was supposed to be her family.

She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing the edge of the couch, as though she could still somehow reach him, still somehow make him see her.

But her fingers went through him, just like they had with Hanni.

Minji stood beside her, watching the scene unfold with quiet understanding. She could see the pain flicker across Haerin's face, the way her gaze softened with something like longing.

"Does he know about the coma?" Minji asked gently, her voice cutting through the silence.

Haerin shook her head, her jaw tightening. "No. He doesn't care. He's too lost in his own world, too wrapped up in the bottle to notice anything else." Her eyes stayed fixed on her father, the empty, hollow man who had once been her protector, her provider; but was now just a shadow of the person he used to be. "I used to hate him for it. But now... now I feel nothing. Just emptiness."

Minji's gaze never left Haerin's face as she absorbed her words, feeling the depth of the pain Haerin had been carrying for so long. "It must be hard, living like that," Minji said softly, her voice devoid of judgment, only understanding.

Haerin didn't respond right away, her eyes drifting back to her father. She knew there was no point in trying to change him, to make him realize what he had done, or hadn't done. He had already made his choices, and she had made hers. She had learned the hard way that no matter how much she wanted him to be different, it wasn't up to her to fix him. But there was still that nagging ache, that sorrow that lingered in the back of her mind.

"I used to hope things would change," Haerin confessed, her voice small now. "That he'd wake up one day and care. That he'd be the father I always wanted him to be. But I think... I think I knew it wasn't going to happen. Not after everything."

Minji didn't say anything for a while, letting Haerin process her thoughts. Instead, she stepped forward, her presence beside Haerin a quiet reassurance. "You don't have to fix him. You're not responsible for him. You were just a kid, Haerin. You did what you could."

Haerin gave a dry laugh, but it wasn't a laugh at all; it was the sound of someone who had lost too much to hope anymore. "I know. But I thought if I could just... be good enough, be strong enough, maybe he would notice. Maybe he would care."