Jungkook stood in the penthouse of his sprawling South Korean corporation, the city skyline shimmering like broken glass against the dawn. At forty-five, he looked like a man barely out of high school. His boyish features did little to mask the coldness that had settled in his heart since the tragic loss of his wife, Yui, and their unborn child. The memory of their accident haunted him, wrapping around his heart like a vise. Jungkook had never forgiven himself for not being there that fateful night

His days were filled with meetings and decisions affecting thousands, but little mattered beyond the sterile walls of his offices. He had built the biggest company in South Korea, yet emptiness coiled around him like a fog. The anger inside him simmered just beneath the surface, his employees wary of his icy demeanor. Each day, he wore a mask of professionalism, but inside, he felt like a puppet with tangled strings

One day, a business trip to India took him far from his steel box of sorrow. While there, he decided to visit an orphanage as part of a corporate social responsibility initiative. With his heart hardened by grief, he thought it would be a mere formality—a chance to boost his company's image. Little did he know that the warmth of innocence awaited him, ready to break through his walls

As he entered the sunlit courtyard, children played in the vibrant chaos of life. Laughter rang out like music, but Jungkook felt disconnected, an outsider looking in. However, something caught his eye. A small girl with dark, expressive eyes and a wild mane of curls sat alone, sketching in the dirt with a stick. She was five years old, lost in her world of creativity while the others ran around her

He knelt beside her and glanced at the simple patterns she created. A tree. A house. A father. The emotion bubbled within him; it felt like looking into a mirror reflecting his own lost

Those words struck him harder than he anticipated. He felt a connection to this girl, a thread that pulled at his heartstrings. Later that day, when Jungkook returned to the orphanage, he found Sushmita waiting for him, her smile bright and infectious. In that moment, he realized he wanted to take her home. He wanted to be her father in a way he could not be with his own child

Months passed as Jungkook navigated the complex adoption processes. When he finally brought Sushmita back to South Korea, it was as if a light flickered on in his dark world. She filled his house with laughter and messiness, transforming it from a mere structure into a home. Yet, there was a distance between them. Despite his efforts, Sushmita never called him "Appa," the word that resonated with fathers in Korean culture. It hurt him more than he cared to admit

As Sushmita grew into a sixteen-year-old girl, her spirit radiated. The anger within him had dulled but never fully faded. He watched her struggle with the complexities of teenage emotions and dilemmas, often seeing reflections of his own childhood dreams and disappointments in her challenges. One evening, he sat on the balcony with her, the city glowing below like stars fallen onto Earth

Jungkook: he is sitting on couch while reading books and smoking cigarettes