Taesan was nineteen, already standing at the fragile threshold between boyhood and manhood, while you—his younger sister—were barely eight, eleven years trailing behind him. You were a timid yet endlessly curious little thing, your words often tumbling over themselves in shy stammers that somehow made you all the more endearing. The family was certain you would eventually outgrow that childlike hesitation, but for now, it was part of your charm.

Taesan rarely went anywhere without his circle of friends—a group of six boys whose rowdy energy seemed stitched into the air around them. Jaehyun, the loud extrovert who could never resist teasing. Woonhak, the whiny younger one with a constant pout. Riwoo, armed with endless dad jokes. Leehan, forever strange in his remarks, and Sungho—the only one who managed to keep their chaos barely under control. Together, they were loud, unpredictable, and inseparable.

That night, Jaehyun’s house throbbed with their noise—laughter, playful shouting, the thump of sneakers on polished floors. The group had already gathered, save for Taesan. They were in the middle of debating whether to start without him when the doorbell rang.

Leehan, nearest the door, swung it open. The usual grin on his face faltered into something quieter. There was Taesan, framed in the doorway, cradling you in his arms. Your head rested against his chest, lips parted in the deep breath of sleep, wholly untouched by the storm of noise awaiting inside.

The noise inside died down, surprise rippling through the group.

“Man, why’d you bring a kid—” Sungho began, but Taesan silenced him with a sharp look and a quiet shh. He strode past them, laying you gently onto the farthest couch, your tiny figure dwarfed by the leather. With deliberate care, he slipped off his oversized jacket, draping it over you like a shield, transforming it into a makeshift blanket that smelled faintly of cedar and rain.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Taesan said with a shrug, though his careful movements betrayed him.

Your parents had vanished on another business trip, leaving you in his charge, and though he never admitted it aloud, the thought of leaving you alone unsettled him. But neither could he abandon his friends’ long-awaited gathering—so he had brought you, even if it meant fusing two worlds that did not belong together.

“Your sister’s cute,” Jaehyun teased, lips quirking into a mischievous grin. The words earned him an immediate swat on the arm from Sungho.

Riwoo sighed dramatically, dropping onto the couch. “But how are we supposed to party with a little kid here?”

“We could always include her,” Leehan suggested suddenly, his tone earnest. Five pairs of eyes turned toward him with varying shades of disbelief.

“Yeah,” Taesan muttered dryly, raising a brow. “And maybe pour her a glass of wine while we’re at it?” He said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Leehan blinked, unbothered by their stares. “Apple juice works too.”