The dining hall was too bright for how miserable everyone looked.
Sunlight streamed through the wide glass windows, bouncing off the polished floor and catching on the edge of every piece of expensive furniture. The long marble table was packed with plates—pancakes, scrambled eggs, grilled meat, toast, fruit, everything anyone could want.
But no one looked happy.
Ye Jun sat hunched over a bowl of cereal, poking it like it had personally offended him.
On his left, Ryung had his face buried in folded arms, mumbling curses at the sun. Kwang was scrolling his phone with dead eyes. Jin was holding a mug of coffee like it was the only thing keeping him alive.
And Hanjae… Hanjae was dramatically chewing a slice of watermelon like it had broken his heart.
They were all dressed in half-wrinkled clothes, hair messy, bags under their eyes from staying up too late, gaming, snacking, laughing—and now facing the grim truth.
Vacation was over.
"Can't we just stay here forever?" Ryung moaned into the table.
"In Uncle piang palace?" Jin said, voice flat. "He said if we stayed one more night he was going to make us clean the fountain with toothbrushes."
"He would," Kwang muttered. "He's a sadist."
"He's a legend," Hanjae countered. "The Money Machine."
Everyone gave a tired, appreciative grunt. They all called Jin's uncle "The Money Machine." He'd hosted them in his fancy hilltop estate for the holidays, spoiling them with every luxury—endless food, entertainment, zero curfews. And now it was ending.
Ye Jun tried to smile at the conversation, but it didn't reach his eyes.
The dream still sat heavy in his chest like a secret he wasn't ready to say aloud.
"Jun?" Kwang's voice pulled him out of it.
Ye Jun blinked. "Yeah?"
"You good?" Kwang asked. "You're usually stuffing your face."
Ye Jun looked down at his half-full bowl, then shrugged. "Just… tired."
Hanjae looked up from his melon. "Still thinking about your nightmare?"
Ye Jun stiffened.
Ryung's head popped up immediately. "Wait. What nightmare?"
"It wasn't a nightmare," Ye Jun muttered.
Hanjae leaned back in his chair. "He was all moody and mysterious last night, staring out the window like a ghost bride."
Ye Jun kicked him under the table. Hanjae kicked back.
"Did you dream of ghosts?" Jin asked, half-mocking. "Or was it the Moon Goddess again? You've always had those weird dreams, remember?"
Ye Jun tried to laugh. "Yeah, probably. Just one of those."
No one pushed further.
But Ye Jun's thoughts weren't on cereal or jokes anymore.
They were on the glowing forest.The hand on his chest.The word she left behind.
Burn.
He reached for his juice with steady fingers, hiding the tremble in his knuckles.
Somewhere inside him, something was waking up.
And it didn't care if he was ready or not.
The table had fallen into a quiet rhythm now—clinking cutlery, soft chewing, the occasional grunt of approval when someone reached for seconds. The worst of the morning gloom had started to lift, replaced with that familiar feeling: the comfort of routine, of shared silence among people who didn't need to talk to be connected.
"Alright," Jin mumbled between bites of pancake, "eat fast. After this, we pack."
A chorus of groans followed.
Ryung dropped his fork. "I'm not ready to leave this life."
"You mean the life where you do absolutely nothing and sleep twelve hours a day?" Kwang asked.
"Exactly," Ryung said proudly.
Ye Jun snorted quietly, finally finishing the rest of his cereal.
Truth be told, he didn't mind that vacation was ending. As much as he loved being with his friends, the thought of going home warmed his chest.
He missed his mothers.
The scent of their kitchen. The warm clutter of their cozy house. The way one always fussed about his eating habits while the other threatened to fight the weather if he caught a cold.
He smiled to himself without realizing it.
Jin caught it first. "Uh-oh. What's that smile?"
Ye Jun blinked.
Hanjae raised an eyebrow. "Is that a homesick grin I see?"
Kwang gasped, dramatically offended. "You're happy to leave us?"
"Traitor," Ryung whispered, mouth full of toast.
Ye Jun rolled his eyes, but the fondness behind it was obvious. "I just miss home."
"Awww," Jin teased, leaning forward. "Can't wait to see your mamas again?"
Ye Jun didn't even pretend to be annoyed. He shrugged. "Yeah. I really can't."
There was a pause. Then a few soft smiles from around the table.
Jin rested his chin on his hand, mock-dreamy. "They are kind of iconic, to be honest. Remember last year when they came to Parents' Day and completely roasted the principal for mixing up your name?"
"Or when one of them brought cookies and threatened to fight the school nurse for giving him expired cough syrup?" Kwang added.
Ye Jun laughed. "They're just overprotective."
"They're terrifying," Hanjae corrected. "In the best way."
"Do we get to see them this time?" Ryung asked. "Are they picking you up?"
Ye Jun nodded. "They said they would. Around noon, I think."
"Nice." Jin leaned back, chewing his last bite of egg. "So what are we doing for your birthday?"
Ye Jun froze.
The table went silent for half a second before Hanjae jumped in. "Ohhh right! It's next week!"
"Big twenty one," Kwang added. "The final boss age."
Ye Jun scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. "We don't usually do anything big."
Ryung clapped a hand over his heart. "Blasphemy."
"You're turning twenty one, not eighty," Jin said. "We're planning something. I refuse to let you celebrate that in pajamas watching crime documentaries again."
"Okay, first of all," Ye Jun started, "my pajamas are legendary—"
"And second," Hanjae cut in, "we'll make sure you don't spend it hiding."
The teasing turned softer after that. The kind that felt like a warm hoodie on a cold day.
Ye Jun felt it deep in his chest—that mix of comfort and love, of being seen and still being wanted.
Still, something from the dream lingered in the back of his mind like a thread pulling loose from a sleeve.
But for now, he let it go.