⋆₊˚꒰ა Chapter Four: The Things They Never Noticed ໒꒱˚₊⋆

“How long has he been this quiet?”

The morning air was heavier than usual. Clouds loomed above the house, low and colorless. The kind of sky that felt like it was holding its breath. And in the smallest room upstairs, Kyungmin sat at his desk, drawing again.

This time, he wasn’t drawing a family.He was drawing a window.And a boy staring out of it.

His pencil scratched softly against the page, the only sound in the room. ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡ His stomach growled, but he didn’t move. There wasn’t much food left in the fridge, and the boys had gone out earlier without saying goodbye.

He hadn’t seen any of them all morning.

Again.

⋆˖ ࣪

By mid-afternoon, the house echoed with the sound of footsteps. Doors opened, sneakers hit the floor, and laughter returned. The brothers had come back from their studio practice, chatting about the new routine.

Kyungmin stepped out of his room and stood quietly at the top of the stairs. His fingers clung to the railing, his voice sitting behind his lips like a prisoner with no key.

Just say something.Just ask if you can join them.Just ask—

But the words turned to ash again.

Downstairs, in the living room, Dohoon dropped his bag with a groan. “We should order chicken tonight,” he said.

“You’re always hungry,” Jihoon replied, tossing him a pillow.

“Appa’s still at the office, right?” Youngjae asked, already reaching for the remote. “We can eat without him.”

“Wait,” Hanjin said, standing in front of the TV. “Did one of you clean the bathroom yesterday?”

Everyone paused.

Kyungmin froze at the top of the stairs. His hands clenched just slightly.

“…Wasn’t me,” Jihoon muttered.

“Not me,” said Dohoon.

“I thought it was Youngjae,” Hanjin added.

“It wasn’t,” Youngjae said.

There was a small silence.

Then Dohoon laughed. “Must’ve been a ghost.”“Yeah, right. A cleaning ghost,” Jihoon smirked.And just like that, the moment passed. The silence closed up again, like it had never opened.

Kyungmin stepped back into the shadows.

They didn’t think of him. Not once. Not even as a joke.

⋆˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In Shinyu’s office, the drawing still sat on the desk.

The tape had peeled off one corner. The colors had started to fade.He hadn’t thrown it away…But he hadn’t moved it either.

His eyes landed on it once that evening, just briefly. He blinked. His gaze lingered for less than a second before moving on to an email.

Kyungmin had drawn them all smiling. Holding hands. A perfect little family.

But Shinyu didn’t recognize the artist.And he didn’t ask.

⋆ ⭒˚

Later that night, Kyungmin passed by the office and noticed the paper had fallen to the floor. It had slipped from the desk and now lay crumpled beneath a chair.

He bent down, heart thudding.

He picked it up slowly, brushing off the dust.

And he realized something:

No one had noticed it was missing.

Not even Appa.

He smoothed the edges carefully and folded it in half — not to throw it away, but to protect it. He pressed it to his chest, then walked quietly back to his room, shutting the door behind him like it was the only wall he had left.

---

Dear Diary,I think Appa saw the drawing. But he didn’t say anything.

It was on the floor tonight. He didn’t even pick it up.I guess it didn’t matter.

Maybe none of this matters.

I’m tired of hoping.

But part of me still does.

Just a little.

—Kyungmin

---

Downstairs, the boys ate chicken and joked about dance bloopers. Upstairs, Kyungmin drew another picture.

This time, he didn’t draw the family.He just drew himself.Sitting in an empty room.With no door.And no window.

And no one knocking.