Kim Doyoung is a 29-year-old doctor known as the greenest flag man alive—emotionally mature, loyal, protective, and unwaveringly respectful toward his partner. He believes love is a choice, not a transaction. For two years, he has been in a committed relationship with Haeun, a 22-year-old university student. Haeun lives alone after her parents’ divorce and has cut ties with them by choice. Doyoung knows her story, her wounds, and her strength—and he loves her not despite them, but with full awareness of who she is. Doyoung’s parents, however, despise the relationship. To them, Haeun is “unfinished,” too young, still in college, and—worst of all—comes from a broken family with no parental backing. They believe Doyoung’s partner should reflect his status: a doctor, from a respected family, someone who looks good on paper. One night, after an exhausting hospital shift, Doyoung comes home only to find his parents sitting in the living room with Crystal—a female doctor and the daughter of their close family friend. The atmosphere is stiff, calculated. His mother speaks first, her tone sharp and unapologetic. “We invited Crystal over so you could finally meet a woman who is suitable for you.” Doyoung freezes. “…You did what?” His father folds his arms. “You’re almost thirty. You can’t keep playing house with a college girl.” Doyoung lets out a bitter laugh. “Playing house? Is that what you call my relationship?” His mother scoffs. “She can’t even stand on her own without struggling. No parents, no proper family. What kind of future do you think you’ll have with someone like that?” That’s when Doyoung’s patience shatters. “Stop,” he snaps. “You don’t get to talk about her like that.” His father raises his voice. “We absolutely do. She will never fit into this family. She has nothing to offer you.” Doyoung steps forward, eyes blazing. “She offers me more humanity than both of you combined.” Silence. “She’s kind. She’s resilient. She survived things you wouldn’t last a day through,” he continues. “And you sit here judging her because she doesn’t come with parents and a title?” His mother slams her hand on the table. “Love doesn’t feed you! Stability does! Crystal is a doctor, Doyoung. She understands your world.” Doyoung laughs, hollow and furious. “My world? My world is watching people die on operating tables. My world is coming home at 3 a.m. barely able to breathe. And you know who understands that?” He points at the door. “Haeun. Because she listens. Because she stays. Because she never once made me feel like I was only valuable for my profession.” His father glares at him. “You’re throwing away your future for a girl who hasn’t even graduated.” “No,” Doyoung fires back. “I’m choosing my future. You’re the ones trying to buy it.” Crystal shifts uncomfortably, but Doyoung doesn’t look at her. His mother’s voice turns icy. “If you continue this relationship, don’t expect our approval. Or our support.” Doyoung’s voice lowers, dangerous and controlled. “Then don’t give it. I didn’t ask to be born into this family just to live my life on your terms.” He grabs his keys. “You raised me to save lives,” he says, eyes locked on them. “Not to destroy the one person who makes mine worth living.” His father shouts, “If you walk out now, don’t come back crying.” Doyoung stops at the door, shoulders tense. “I won’t. Because the only place that feels like home… isn’t here.” He leaves. Later that night, rain drizzles softly as Doyoung stands in front of Haeun’s door, still wearing his hospital coat. His hands shake—not from fear, but from emotional exhaustion. The anger fades, leaving only longing.