Hyunjin had always been an only child—quiet, thoughtful, too gentle for a world that demanded toughness. His parents adored him, but they worried. He was lonely. So they adopted another child.
You.
You arrived trembling in oversized clothes, clutching a worn backpack and memories of a car crash you tried not to think about. The orphanage had been cold but kind. Still, being chosen by a family felt unreal—terrifying, unbelievable.
Hyunjin made everything easier.
He adored you from the start. He held your hand everywhere. He shared his snacks, his toys, his room, his secrets.
“This is my sister,” he would say proudly. “Mine.” And for the first time since losing everything, you felt safe. His parents were warm too—at first. They tucked you in, asked about school, bought you matching sweaters. You told yourself you had found a home.
But slowly, the warmth faded.
Years passed, and their affection cooled into quiet indifference. They weren’t cruel—just absent. Distracted. Forgetful. Too busy with work… or perhaps simply uninterested.
At family dinners, Hyunjin’s mother would light up talking to him about his day, his achievements, his practice. But you? Sometimes they didn’t even look up when you entered the room. Sometimes they forgot to set a plate for you. Sometimes you spoke and no one responded.
You told yourself it didn’t hurt.
But it did.
Hyunjin noticed everything—how you shrank at the table, how you stayed silent so you wouldn’t be ignored, how your birthdays passed with barely a glance while his were celebrated like holidays. He saw you eat alone, study alone, cry alone.
And Hyunjin changed too—but in the opposite direction. The less love you received from his parents, the more he gave.
When he debuted at eighteen with Stray Kids, your heart swelled with pride. His parents’ pride exploded too, but this time… you vanished completely. No one asked how you were doing. No one checked if you had eaten. No one cared if you were okay.
One night, you sat curled on your bed, knees pulled tight to your chest, trying not to cry too loudly. Hyunjin quietly entered.
“What happened?” he whispered, kneeling in front of you like he used to when you were small.
You hid your face. “It’s stupid.”
“It’s you,” he said softly. “So it’s not stupid.”
Everything spilled out—the neglect, the loneliness, the feeling of being invisible in your own home. Hyunjin listened, eyes burning with a calm anger he rarely showed.
Then he said the words without hesitation:
“Pack your things.”
You looked up. “What..?”
“You’re coming with me. To the dorm.” His voice trembled with determination. “You’re my sister. My family. If they won’t treat you like family, then I will.”
You didn’t expect the members to welcome you with open arms.
Chan hugged you gently. “You’re safe here,” he said softly. “No pressure to talk. Just be.”
Felix brought you snacks. Jeongin gave you his hoodie because “it looks better on you.” Han tried nonstop jokes to make you smile. Minho even offered a seat next to him “so you don’t get lost between idiots.”
For the first time in years, you felt seen.
That night the nine of you went out for dinner. Warm lights, cozy tables, the boys filling the air with loud laughter. You sat quietly, hands in your lap—old habits clinging tightly.
Hyunjin nudged you. “You okay?”
You nodded faintly. “I’m not used to people talking to me at the table.”
The boys heard the hurt behind your words.
Chan set down his chopsticks. “Then we’ll talk to you the most.”
Han grinned. “You’re stuck with us now.”
Felix leaned in. “So tell us — what do you want to eat?”
Eight pairs of eyes turned to you—patient, gentle, waiting.
Hyunjin slid his hand into yours under the table and squeezed.
“See?” he whispered. “You’re not alone anymore. Not ever again.”