✓//Ordinary Things ⌁ k. jiyong

Chapter Three

𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The sound of clinking porcelain was the first thing Haeun heard.

Then the birds-soft chirps from the open window, followed by the faint rustle of tree branches swaying in the breeze. It was early, but the light pouring in through the sheer curtains was warm and golden, painting soft shadows across the wooden floor.

She blinked slowly, her lashes heavy.

For a moment, she didn't move-just stared at the familiar ceiling, the little crack in the corner that had been there since middle school. Her childhood bedroom looked different now: freshly painted, shelves mostly bare except for a few scattered polaroids stuck to the wall-snapshots of late-night ramen runs, impromptu karaoke sessions, and years of memories with the boys.

Still home.
Still hers.

She slowly sat up, the oversized sleep shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder. Her body ached in that quiet way it does after sleeping too long-fourteen hours of dreamless rest.

A knock sounded softly.

"Haeun-ah," her father's voice came through the door, gentle and low. "You awake?"

"Mhm," she croaked.

The door opened just enough for him to peek in. He smiled when he saw her-genuinely smiled-and stepped in holding a mug.

He placed it carefully on the small desk beside her bed, right on top of a seashell coaster she'd made in third grade.

"Ginger tea," he said. "For your throat."

Haeun's lips curved, just slightly. "Thanks, Dad."

He lingered for a second, then gently rubbed her shoulder before heading back toward the door. "Take it slow today. No rush for anything, okay?"

"I know."

She reached for the mug, hands cupping it for warmth. The steam rose, sweet and earthy.

A moment later, her mother appeared at the doorway with a disapproving click of her tongue. "Aigoo, you look pale. Didn't even wash your face yet."

"I just woke up," Haeun murmured, half-laughing.

Her mom stepped in anyway, brushing her hair back from her face before sitting on the edge of the bed. "You're still too skinny."

"You said that yesterday."

"Because it's still true."

They both smiled at that-soft, tired smiles that held more love than they said out loud.

Her mother sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Haeun's ear. "You're really back."

"I'm really back."

For a few seconds, neither said anything.

Then her mom looked at her more directly. "Do you regret it?"

"No," Haeun answered without pause. "Not for a second."

"Even after everything?"

"Especially after everything."

Her mom nodded, her eyes softening. "Then that's all that matters."

After a long, hot shower and a few quiet moments picking at toast in the kitchen, Haeun stood in front of her old bedroom mirror-fresh-faced, a little puffy around the eyes, but herself.

She pulled on a cream-colored knit sweater, soft and oversized, paired with wide-leg trousers and white sneakers that had just enough scuff on them to feel lived-in. A delicate gold chain hung around her neck, and her hair was tied loosely in a low bun. Simple, clean, easy.