checkmate. | pi hanwool

Chapter 24

She gave a small smile. "You know me too well."

Gamin exhaled through his nose and leaned against the fridge. His eyes met hers—wary, protective, and just a little bit tired.

Gaeun looked down at her fingers. "He told me he liked me."

The words were soft, hesitant, like a secret finally being spoken aloud. Gamin blinked, straightening slightly.

"I knew it," he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"You did?"

"He’s been looking at you like that since forever. He just didn’t realize it."

Gaeun tilted her head. "Then why did you punch him?"

Gamin paused. The question lingered heavily between them.

"Because I was angry," he finally admitted. "At him. At myself. At them. The gang. Everything."

He walked over and leaned on the opposite counter, facing her.

"I know it wasn’t his fault," he added. "Not really. But he’s still his father’s son. Still tied to the gang, whether he wants to be or not."

Gaeun nodded, understanding his point. "He’s angry too, Gamin. For what they did to us. For what happened to Mom."

Gamin stayed silent, his expression unreadable.

"I’m not saying you need to forgive him," Gaeun continued gently. "But I wanted you to know… he’s not our enemy."

"He’s not our friend either," Gamin said quietly.

That stung a little. But she could understand why he felt that way.

“I care about him,” she said softly. "And he cares about me. I’m not going to stop seeing him just because it’s complicated."

Gamin stared at her, his shoulders tense.

"Do you trust him?" he asked.

Gaeun didn’t hesitate. "I do."

He looked at her for a long moment before sighing, dragging a hand through his hair.

"You always did have bad taste in men," he muttered.

Gaeun laughed. "Hey!"

"But…" He pushed off the counter and grabbed his water again. "If he makes you cry even once, I’ll break his nose."

She smiled, eyes softening. "I’ll let him know."

They lapsed into a more comfortable silence, the kind that only siblings could share. Gamin pulled out some leftover rice and started heating it up. Gaeun slid down from the counter to help.

As they stood side by side, preparing dinner in the quiet apartment, the tension between them began to thaw. Their mother was still in the hospital. The scars from that day hadn’t healed completely. But for now—right now—there was peace between them.
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Dinner was simple—kimchi jjigae and grilled mackerel. Their mom’s seat at the table remained painfully empty, but Gamin had at least turned on the TV for some background noise, which filled the quiet gaps between spoonfuls of stew and the occasional exchange about schoolwork.

After helping him wash the dishes, Gaeun excused herself and headed to her room. The moment her door closed behind her, she slumped back against it with a sigh.

Her body ached—not sharply, just a dull pull near her stitched wound—but it was manageable.

She grabbed her towel and pajamas and went for a quick shower. The warm water cascading down her back felt like a balm, washing away the day’s heaviness. Once she was clean and dressed in her soft cotton sleepwear, she toweled off her damp hair and padded back to her room.