Kang Soo-bin sat at her desk in her small, cluttered room at Hankook University, surrounded by fashion sketches and design books. The soft light from her desk lamp cast long shadows across the room, but her mind was far from her studies. Her thoughts lingered on her older brother, Kang Min-jae.

It had been four years since he left for the U.S., and everything had changed. She couldn’t help but notice the stark difference between the man who had returned to Seoul and the lazy, entitled older brother she once knew. Min-jae had always been a source of frustration for her—the spoiled heir who could barely stay awake in a boardroom meeting and didn’t care about anything except his next party or flirtation. The Min-jae she remembered was disinterested, disorganized, and disconnected from anything that could resemble responsibility.

But the Min-jae who had come back was a stranger.

Her father had hired investigators to track him down, and Soo-bin, ever the curious one, had snuck into his study one night to read the reports. She couldn’t have prepared herself for what she found. The documents outlined the drastic transformation Min-jae had gone through in the past four years. Not just physically, though the difference in his appearance was staggering—his once round, soft face now sharp and sculpted, his body lean and muscular, his posture commanding. But it was more than that. His entire demeanor had changed. The report chronicled his work ethic, his relentless pursuit of self-improvement, and his refusal to rely on anyone, not even his family's wealth. It shocked her to her core.

Min-jae had gone from a lazy, spoiled boy to a driven, almost obsessive individual. The man who could barely string together a coherent sentence in a business meeting had earned the highest distinctions in his field and had even gone on to work at Goldman Sachs. He had achieved a PhD, and now he was running the Kang Group with unparalleled business acumen. He didn’t party anymore, didn’t drink, didn’t flirt with women. He was consumed by work, exercise, and his relentless drive to prove himself.

Soo-bin didn’t know what to make of it. Part of her admired him—she had never thought Min-jae had it in him to accomplish so much. But another part of her was deeply unsettled. This new Min-jae was almost unrecognizable. The person he had become felt like a far-off echo of the brother she once knew. He was emotionally distant, colder than ever, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing from his life. The weight of his transformation seemed almost too heavy for her to comprehend.

She had wanted to confront him, to ask him how he had changed so drastically, but she hadn’t. It was awkward, too personal. Min-jae hadn’t shared anything with her about his life in the U.S. He didn’t even talk about it now. When he returned home, he was silent about those years, only offering fragments of his new life—his work, his achievements, his goals—but never anything about his past.

And now, he seemed to be pushing everyone away. Their father, who once held an iron grip over him, was frustrated by his refusal to revert to his old self. Soo-bin had seen firsthand how Min-jae had been dragged home against his will by the bodyguards—how his father had forced him into submission. The memory of his reluctance still lingered in Soo-bin's mind. It was clear that Min-jae didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to be part of their world anymore, but he had no choice.

Soo-bin didn’t know what to feel. Part of her felt angry that he had cut everyone off, but another part understood. After everything their father had done to him, the pressure, the expectations—it wasn’t hard to see why he would choose isolation over returning to that life. Still, she couldn’t shake the thought that something more was buried beneath the surface.

Sighing, she pushed her sketches aside and grabbed her phone. Her thumb hovered over Min-jae’s contact for a moment, before she put the phone down again.

Her brother had changed so much. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that, somewhere in all of it, he had lost something precious. Something that couldn’t be regained through all the accolades, the degrees, the achievements.

She wanted to talk to him, but she didn’t know how.