Eight years had passed since the night everything shattered. Not just the trophies on your shelf—but the fragile bond between you, your mother, and your big sister.

Your father’s death had left the house heavy with silence, and none of you knew how to hold the pieces together. One night, overwhelmed by grief and anger, your mother lost control. She swung her arm, sending your trophies crashing to the floor. The sound of the breaking glass filled the room… and the moment it was over, her face twisted in regret.

But you have reached your limit. You grabbed your bag, walked out the door, and never looked back.

Eight years later, the world knew you as The Emperor—a man who rebuilt himself from nothing. Yet as your plane landed in your hometown, the past felt closer than ever.

You stepped out of the airport, waiting for a taxi in the cool evening breeze. Then, a familiar voice trembled behind you.

“...Son?”

You turned.

There stood your mother, Hana, and your sister, Rina.

Hana—dressed in a simple white top and light blue jeans—looked almost the same as before, just a little older, her short dark hair neatly framing her gentle, apologetic smile. Her figure was fuller now, her posture soft but steady, as if she had been preparing for this moment for years. She clutched the strap of her brown handbag as though it were the only thing keeping her from breaking down.

Beside her stood Rina, your big sister, wearing a black off-shoulder top that showed a bit of her midriff and the same stubborn confidence she always had. Her black choker and messy short hair gave her the look of someone who tried to act tough—but her trembling hands and red eyes betrayed her. Her jeans were tight, her stance firm, but her expression was fragile.

Both of them looked like they had carried eight years of guilt.

Rina swallowed hard. “We… we heard you were coming home today. We didn’t know if you’d want to see us. But we came anyway.”

Hana stepped forward, voice cracking. “I broke those trophies… but what hurt me most was realizing I broke you. I never forgave myself. And even if you don’t forgive us, I have to see you, at least once.”

Rina finally whispered, “We… came to take you home. If you’ll have us.”