The Three baby mining brothers - Chapter 7

Yeoreum’s newly remodeled room had a large window through which the breeze came in, cool enough to make his bangs flutter.

When his brothers left early in the morning for work, Yeoreum waited for Minhyuk, his private tutor. It had become a habit to hand Minhyuk a glass of water as soon as he dragged his bag in shortly after lunch.

However, their lessons hardly took the form of actual studying. Most of the time, Yeoreum had to listen to Minhyuk vent about frustrating or amusing things that had happened to him. Of course, on rare occasions, he did solve problems under Minhyuk’s guidance.

Whenever Yeoreum thought he might be slacking off too much and should focus more, Minhyuk would rebuke him, saying, “Why bother going to college when you’ve got Yi-hon and Yi-eon?” For Minhyuk, college wasn’t a necessity, but for Yeoreum, it was a desperate aspiration.

“What’s the first thing you’d want to do if you went to college?” Minhyuk asked, biting into an apple The housekeeper had brought up to the room.

He would often pose questions like this, then nostalgically gaze into the distance, murmuring, “Ah, I was a college student once.”

Because Yeoreum had never found joy in the idea of growing older, his curiosity peaked up at Minhyuk’s musings.

“Well, what would you know?” Minhyuk continued. “If you go to college, you’ll spend your time drinking, eating, and living it up with people your age. Doesn’t just thinking about it sound thrilling?”

Minhyuk tapped his fingers rhythmically, as if amused by his own words, adding a tone of mock scolding. Then, he began recounting tales of his college days, from the bars he frequented to the meals he ate.

Yeoreum nodded out of habit but truthfully let most of Minhyuk’s words pass through one ear and out the other. The idea that it was “normal” to visit bars with peers was foreign to him, something he was hearing for the first time.

Though he didn’t feel the need to know everything, he couldn’t help but feel bitter about his ignorance. Still, learning something new was sometimes enjoyable—more so than listening to Minhyuk’s drunken-like ramblings.

After Minhyuk finished venting, they would move on to lessons, tackling literature one day, math the next, and occasionally English.

After sitting at the table for over two hours, the snacks on it often changed several times. Sometimes, they were brought by Secretary Yoon, other times by one of the housemaids. Yeoreum had never expected a new face to bring them.

Knock, knock. The familiar sound of knocking echoed. Before Yeoreum could respond, Minhyuk stretched out his legs and shouted, “Come in!” loudly.

No one recognized the sound of approaching snacks better than Minhyuk. The door opened quietly, and the first thing visible was a large tray.

The man carrying the tray piled high with cookies was someone Yeoreum had never seen before. From his eyes to his nose to his mouth, everything about him was unfamiliar.

Minhyuk’s gaze fixed immediately on the cookies in the man’s hands.

“The housemaid asked me to bring this up. I’ll leave it here,” the man said politely.

With a clean and neat appearance, the man carefully placed the tray on the table where Yeoreum and Minhyuk were sitting. The cookies, vibrant with various colors, looked quite appetizing, and Minhyuk had already exclaimed, “Oh wow, these look delicious.”

“Oh? I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new?” Minhyuk asked, striking up a conversation with his usual sociable demeanor.

“Yes, today is my first day,” the man replied.

“I thought so. I’m this kid’s private tutor. You look young—and good-looking, too,” Minhyuk said, extending his hand for a handshake while holding a cookie in his other hand.

The man chuckled, shook Minhyuk’s hand, and bowed slightly in thanks.

As Minhyuk busied himself with the cookies, Yeoreum, caught off guard by the stranger’s appearance, hesitated. Unlike Yeoreum, whose attention was fixed on the tall man, Minhyuk remained focused on the cookies.

“Yeoreum, you should eat some cookies while you study,” Minhyuk said.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“See? This kid here is the youngest in the house but so shy. Nothing like his brothers,” Minhyuk said, laughing loudly.

Getting up from his seat, Minhyuk introduced Yeoreum to the man, brushing cookie crumbs off his mouth with an awkward smile.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. My name is Kim Jaeheon, and I’ve started working as a helper in this mansion,” the man said with a slight bow, his name seemingly as refined as his appearance.

“Hello, I’m Han Yeoreum,” Yeoreum said, standing up to return the greeting, meeting Jaeheon’s gaze directly.

Jaeheon smiled warmly, and their exchange was as polite as it was reserved.

“Oh, now that I think about it, you two seem like you’re around the same age. How old are you, Jaeheon?” Minhyuk asked, his voice muffled by the cookies he was chewing.

“I’m 24. It feels a bit unfair to say we’re the same age,” Jaeheon replied, shrugging slightly.

Despite the age difference, Yeoreum and Jaeheon seemed close enough in age to connect.

“See? I was right. You two should get along. Yeoreum hasn’t had much of a chance to make friends, and honestly, he probably won’t for a while,” Minhyuk said, glancing at Yeoreum with a slightly pitying expression.

The casual mention of Yeoreum’s isolated situation made Jaeheon’s smile falter momentarily, but Minhyuk quickly laughed it off.

“Anyway, get along well. It’ll be nice to see you two as friends,” Minhyuk said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving with Jaeheon, who had picked up the now-empty tray.

After they left, Yeoreum realized he barely remembered what he had learned that day. Seeing Jaeheon for the first time had left his thoughts scattered.

He wrapped a cardigan around his shoulders as the cold air seeped through the window, the passing time feeling both swift and distant. For now, all he could focus on was studying.

I don’t know how much more will happen in the future, but one thing was certain—moving forward, I’d have my family with me.

That alone was enough for Yeoreum. They had saved him, taken him in as brother, and given him a warm place to stay. He wondered if his friends, who had also sought families through adoption, were living as well as he was. Surely, they must’ve been happy even before him. It was a pleasant thought that filled him with a sense of excitement.

“Jaehun, could you refill the water?”

They didn’t gather as a family just for three meals a day. On good days, they would set up a table in the garden to enjoy tea, and sometimes, they would gather in the living room, each attending to their tasks. All of it happened under Yi-eon’s enthusiastic mantra, “This is all for the happiness of our family!”

Yi-hon’s expression was tense, as though he’d bitten into something sour. He had been confident that he could avoid Yi-eon today, but the fact that he was quickly caught proved to be his undoing.

In response to Yi-eon’s request, Jaehun poured hot water into the empty cups. Through the transparent glass, the tea began to steep into a soft pink color.

“Why exactly do I have to go through all this trouble right now?”

It wasn’t a warm day where one could leisurely drink tea in the garden or read the newspaper. The weather wasn’t freezing, but the sharp, cold wind whipped around outside, making it far from ideal for enjoying tea outdoors.

Yi-eon had proposed having tea at the usual dining table inside, worrying that Yeoreum might catch a cold. Naturally, Yi-hon had initially refused but was ultimately dragged out after spending considerable time whining on the couch in his study.

“For the bonding of our siblings, of course. Yeoreum, is the cocoa drink good?”

“Yes, it’s sweet.”

Yeoreum was the only one drinking cocoa instead of caffeinated tea. His lips began to darken as he drank. Yi-eon naturally reached out and wiped the corner of Yeoreum’s mouth. As expected, Yeoreum’s cheeks flushed a little at the gesture.

How long had they been drinking tea? Without being told, Jaehun refilled the cups when they were empty. Then, he quietly placed a white tissue beside Yeoreum.

“So, I see you’ve already introduced yourself to Jaeheon. Yeoreum, you’re usually full of questions, but you haven’t asked him anything?”

Unlike Yi-hon, who sipped his tea while silently praying for this strange and infuriating situation to end, Yi-eon started asking questions like a host trying to keep the conversation flowing.

“Yes, I introduced myself with The tutor.”

“Great. Try to get along with him like how friends do. Jaeheon is a good kid.”

Yi-eon glanced at Jaehun, standing behind Yeoreum, and then turned his gaze back to Yeoreum. The overly large detached house was indeed too much to manage, and Yi-eon was the one who handled all the hiring.

“Jaeheon, have a seat too.”

He motioned with his chin toward the empty seat beside Yeoreum. Although Jaeheon was technically the house helper, he had become more like one of them—someone they could comfortably interact with without keeping their guard up.

Jaehun’s face softened slightly, and he placed the water bottle down before taking the seat Yi-eon had indicated.

Yi-hon, who had been quietly sipping his tea, clicked his tongue in irritation at both the tiring situation and Yi-eon’s cold, calculating demeanor.

“Hyung, would you like this?”

Yeoreum pushed one of the thick macarons from his plate toward Jaeheon. Without hesitation, Jaeheon nodded and accepted the plate. While their gazes met, someone else was also watching them.

As soon as Yeoreum said “hyung”, Yi-hon, who had been staring at his teacup, and Yi-eon, who had been observing Yeoreum’s small throat, both shifted their eyes to his mouth.

Jaeheon hadn’t been working there for long, and it was unclear even to the brothers how Yeoreum and Jaeheon had become close enough to use such a term.

“Yeoreum, what about me?”

Even Yi-eon, who usually wore a mischievous smile, showed a subtle crack in his expression. His unwavering gaze stayed fixed on Yeoreum.

‘Does he want the macaron too?’

Yeoreum had already given all his macarons to Jaeheon and had none left.

“…Should I go get more?”

There had to be some left somewhere. If Yi-eon wanted them, Yeoreum was ready to bring them quickly and efficiently. Just as he was about to stand, he stopped at the sight of Yi-eon shaking his head.

“No, not the macarons. I mean, the word ‘hyung.’ You’ve never called me that, have you?”

In fact, Yi-eon had hinted several times before that Yeoreum should call him “hyung,” but there had never been a situation that naturally required Yeoreum to do so. Thus, no form of address had been established between them.

Why had he decided to call Jaeheon “hyung” instead? Yi-eon pressed his chin into his hand with more force.

Yeoreum, who had assumed Yi-eon wanted macarons, never imagined the conversation would turn to this.

“Call me hyung.”

Jaeheon, awkwardly holding the plate of macarons, alternated glances between Yi-eon and Yeoreum. Yi-eon’s eyes remained intense until Yeoreum awkwardly stammered, “H-hyung.”

The pointless and time-wasting conversation continued until Yi-hon, exasperated, left the room.

Of course, Jaeheon, the new addition to the household, was also present. Yi-eon’s words, “You’re around the same age, so get along,” still echoed in Yeoreum’s ears.

“Here, drink this while you work.”

“Hyung.”

Jaeheon occasionally brought snacks or drinks to Yeoreum, who often studied alone on the second floor.

Yeoreum took the tomato juice from him and quenched his thirst. The sweetness cleared his head.

“You’ve got some on your mouth.”

Jaeheon, leaning against the table, reached out to wipe the tomato juice off Yeoreum’s lips. Embarrassed, Yeoreum instinctively rubbed his mouth even though nothing was there, then looked up at Jaeheon.

“are your studies going well?”

“…I’m trying my best.”

“That’s enough, then.”

Jaeheon lightly patted Yeoreum’s head with a gentle smile. Being much taller, Jaeheon’s gaze met Yeoreum’s only when Yeoreum looked up, making the gesture easy and natural.

“Is there anything you want to do? You might feel cooped up staying home all the time.”

Talking with someone his age felt different from conversations with Yi-eon and Yi-hon. Jaeheon was unexpectedly kind.

“Something I want to do?”

Yeoreum struggled to find an answer. There wasn’t anything he particularly wanted or desired to do. Someone would have to tell him what did he mean before he could understand it.

But Yeoreum’s ignorance of such things made it hard to answer.

Jaeheon crossed his arms and nodded, as if thinking, “He’s deep in thought.” Then, with a playful tone, he teased, “You just want to play, don’t you?”

“O-of course not…”

“It’s okay. At your age, that’s all I wanted to do too.”

Jaeheon’s gaze turned warm, as though he pitied Yeoreum, who spent all his time studying at home.

“When you feel like playing, you should. Don’t worry, I’ll play with you.”

Jaeheon lightly grabbed Yeoreum’s elbow and playfully swung his arm back and forth.

Having rarely been invited to do something by others, Yeoreum scratched his cheek awkwardly at the unfamiliar warmth.

“Sounds good. But…”

Would it even be okay to go out?

Yeoreum’s memories of freely walking outside were blurry. Ever since he had arrived unconscious, he vaguely recalled being confined to the house.

Could he really go out to play just because he wanted to?

Yeoreum’s doubt lingered, but Jaeheon’s encouraging presence made him wonder if it was possible.

And, he didn’t want to go outside. Perhaps it was because the only place he could return to was this house, where he lay down every night and where his brothers were. Rather than wandering around outside, he felt more comfortable staying home, even if it meant being restraint.

Perhaps that’s why he didn’t find anything odd or feel particularly upset about the fact that he couldn’t leave the house. However, the situation with Jaeheon’s suggestion to go out was entirely different. He couldn’t bring himself to refuse Jaeheon’s earnest request. That was all there was to it.

“When you have some free time, let’s go together. There are lots of good restaurants around here.”

“Oh, but don’t feel pressured.”

With a warm smile, Jaeheon stood up. He looked at Yeoreum, who nodded and said he understood, before heading out of the room.

Yeoreum took another sip of his tomato juice.

“When I have time…?”

Perhaps because it was such an abstract statement, it didn’t feel like something immediate or pressing, and it quickly slipped from his mind.

Of course, if he had known Jaeheon would come back soon to coax him out, he wouldn’t have let it go so easily.