Where Every Story Blooms
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      by Emerlyn — As he crossed the threshold, the bell rang three times. The deck crew, including the boatswain and several officers who were tidying up the deck upon the notification of the captain's arrival, saluted. Yoon Moo-hwa casually returned their salutes and entered the captain's quarters with a stern expression. Once inside, he checked the list of new crew members. Thirteen sailors and four officers. It was a considerable number. Among the listed information, the most notable item was that a new medical…
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      by Emerlyn — It's another new year. For Yoon Moo-hwa, it was the same old new year, with nothing particularly noteworthy except for the fact that somehow, the civilization of this generation was still continuing. The conversations at gatherings were all the same old tiresome topics. Despite early marriage or partnerships becoming commonplace, he was surely past the prime marriage age, yet he was still tired of people trying to set him up with their sons and daughters, asking if he wouldn't like to meet…
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      by Emerlyn — Seon Ikhyeon gritted his teeth. It was better when he was so quiet it was stifling.  Yoon Moo-hwa becoming talkative was truly unpleasant. "It seems you've already heard from the former major, but did you already know about Haero's feelings for me?" "...I didn't know. But if those feelings are real, I do know that you're probably the first person Haero has ever liked." Because that kid really wasn't interested in anyone else, just like someone else I know. Seon Ikhyeon swallowed his bitter…
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      by Emerlyn — Adopting Haero doesn't make them a real family. He just had a strong conviction that this wasn't the right way. "I'll make sure Haero doesn't cause any more trouble. Thank you for letting me know in advance." ―Is this choice for you or for Haero? "The choice I'm making is for him." With this firm answer, Yoon Sang-won, who had tightly pressed his lips, spoke in a hoarse voice. ―You're an inescapable soldier after all. "Did you just realize that now?" Yoon Sang-won smiled bitterly.…
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      by Emerlyn — The overnight leave time for new cadets is very short. It's so brief that it might be more appropriate to call it an outing. Yoon Moo-hwa, whose return time was delayed due to refueling, ended up being the one to send Haero off instead of the other way around. It was the first time, because everytime before, Haero had been the one to see him off and wait. This kind of farewell was also a first. Yoon Moo-hwa rubbed his slightly stubbly cheek, not having shaved yet, and picked up the note left on…
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      by Emerlyn — After returning home, Haero tossed and turned in bed for a while before getting up to find some medicine. A small light was on in the living room. Since both Yoon Moo-hwa and Haero usually slept in complete darkness, this light meant someone was still awake. Yoon Moo-hwa was there. Slightly away from the light, in the deep darkness, he was wearing headphones. Haero couldn't tell what he was listening to, but he could see that Yoon Moo-hwa was intently focused on something. Haero was about to…
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      by Emerlyn — 'We.'  How powerful that word is. In an instant, it can make us comrades, conspirators, accomplices, or even family from lovers. That word sounded especially sweet when spoken by Yoon Moo-hwa. Apart from the incident, Haero was overwhelmed by each small expression that he would normally take for granted. "As long as it's not us, you don't need to worry. It doesn't look like you'll be losing any hair over this." Yoon Moo-hwa's smile scattered briefly and then disappeared. It was a fake smile…
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      by Emerlyn — Yoon Moo-hwa pushed Haero away. He removed his hand from his chest, grabbed a towel, and left the booth. "I'll wash over there, you wash here." Haero, who had been standing under the warm water Yoon Moo-hwa had set, followed him out. Yoon Moo-hwa, dripping wet, was looking for something. When he opened the drawer, he saw an e-cigarette. Next to it was a string. It was the kind sailors used to practice knot-tying. Haero had one too. He would fiddle with it whenever he tried to organize his thoughts…
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