GB 12

“He saved my life.”

Yoon Sang-won snorted in disbelief. His son, standing before him in perfect military form, had returned after being missing, having accomplished the impressive feat of defeating a small group of pirates. And now, he was suddenly insisting that the child he brought back shouldn’t be sent to a shelter.

“You wouldn’t have died even without that child. You would have survived.”

“But the probability of my death would have been higher.”

“Lieutenant Yoon Moo-hwa, are you trying to play word games with me?”

“No, sir.”

“Then what are you suggesting? Send him to a care facility for resocialization. That’s the protocol. It’s the most efficient way.”

“If he’s sent to a care facility, the child might be confused for suddenly separated from his group.”

Yoon Sang-won let out a humorless laugh. “I didn’t realize Lieutenant Yoon was so compassionate. Do you think he’s the only child separated from his group? Are you planning to bring and take care of every one of them?”

“This isn’t some kind of shallow compassion.”

“Then what is it?”

Yoon Moo-hwa opened his mouth to say it wasn’t compassion, but suddenly closed his mouth.

Born with an exceptional aptitude for the military, Yoon Moo-hwa was known for his impeccable personal conduct and disciplined lifestyle—so much so that he was often regarded as cold, almost inhuman, devoid of warmth. And now, he suddenly wanted to take in an orphan from a pirate island because he’s concerned about him? 

Ridiculous.

Yoon Sang-won rubbed his forehead in frustration and tossed the file he had been reading onto the desk. “So, what do you want to do, Moo-hwa?”

“…”

“Should we adopt him? Huh? Bring him into our family? Fine, I’m grateful he saved you, so we’ll sponsor him from now on. Wouldn’t that be enough?”

At Yoon Sang-won’s words, laced with a biting sarcasm, Yoon Moo-hwa immediately raised his head. “Yes. I think it would be best to keep him in our family.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a file came flying at him. Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t flinch. Knowing he wouldn’t dodge, Yoon Sang-won had deliberately thrown a file instead of the heavier nameplate, but the sight of it striking him still did little to quell his frustration.

Yoon Sang-won frowned and responded fiercely,”You do realize how absurd what you’re saying is, right? At least a hundred people saw where that child came from. Even if you’d sent someone else to bring him, there would have been rumors. But you openly carried him aboard and disembarked with him, so you’ve already drawn all possible attention.What are you thinking?”

“I’ll handle it.”

Yoon Moo-hwa didn’t mention that if discretion was required, they only needed to caution the orphanage. That was also a responsibility he was prepared to bear.

“Are you ready to live with the stigma of an unknown child becoming your brother? Is that something you alone will endure? Do you have any idea how many futures you’re trying to ruin with this reckless decision, you brat? Your future is set. Your destiny is to sit in this very seat!”

Yoon Moo-hwa’s face remained impassive as he listened to his father’s tirade. Both of them knew there was a line that neither could easily cross.

Seeing his son’s rare stubbornness, Yoon Sang-won exhaled sharply and sank back into his chair, his frustration still evident. The sight of Moo-hwa’s resolute silence only made his blood boil further.

“I’ll take responsibility. This is about my honor. I owe him my life—I can’t just cast him aside like some prize from a claw machine.”

He had always thought his son lacked stubbornness, but now he realized it had simply never shown before. Yoon Sang-won suddenly understood that they had just happened to walk the same path, with no cause for conflict—until now.

His head throbbed.

While pressing his forehead, Yoon Sang-won asked, “What if he says he wants to go back to where he grew up? Back to those people?”

“You haven’t been briefed? There’s nowhere for him to return to. No one is waiting for him.” Even though the reason for that might very well be himself, Yoon Moo-hwa spoke calmly. 

In moments like this, he was still the cold, calculated son Yoon Sang-won had always known.

This unyielding determination, which he had never shown even as a child—perhaps it deserved to be indulged, just this once. In truth, ever since Yoon Sang-won had learned that his son had disembarked in plain sight while carrying a pirate child in front of everyone, he had already calculated the implications. An admiral’s family taking the lead in embracing a socially stigmatized outcast—wasn’t it an oddly convincing narrative?

Yoon Sang-won tapped his desk with the commissioned ring on his finger. After a long pause, his voice emerged, low and deliberate, “We can’t give him our family name. Adoption is not possible.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“And he must be enrolled in the Naval Academy. That’s the condition.”

“……”

“You’re dismissed.”

Yoon Moo-hwa had anticipated this response from the beginning. He knew Yoon Sang-won would have considered all the possibilities beforehand. The conversation had unfolded exactly as he expected.

With a crisp salute, Yoon Moo-hwa exited the admiral’s carpeted office with his steps silent. As he turned to quietly close the door, a faint, sweet scent of milk drifted toward him.

Looking back, he saw Number 8 sitting next to Gu Ye-jin, staring up at him. 

Yoon Moo-hwa crouched to gently wipe the milk from the boy’s lips, smiling faintly as he said, “We’ll need to give you a name,” as if nothing had happened.

Though Yoon Moo-hwa’s words were harsh, there was a noticeable softness in his tone when addressing the child, a marked difference from his usual demeanor.

Watching this, Gu Ye-jin frowned and snapped, “Lieutenant Yoon doesn’t even bother to look at his colleague’s face? They say, ‘love your country, love your comrades’.”

“It’s been a while, Lieutenant Gu Ye-jin. You must have a tough time with such a demanding superior.”

That’s your father and your superior too, you know, Gu Ye-jin thought while twisting her lips.

“Did you give him the milk?”

Annoyed by Yoon Moo-hwa addressing her without so much as glancing away from the child, Gu Ye-jin replied curtly, “Yeah. Why? Is there a problem?”

“Have you ever had milk before?” This time, Yoon Moo-hwa was speaking to the child, his tone noticeably softer.

Number 8 nodded.”I’ve had condensed milk too.”

The milk he was drinking now was nothing like the single sip he had experienced in the past. It was much fresher, creamier, and far sweeter than the bloated carton he vaguely remembered—almost as if condensed milk had been mixed into it.

“You didn’t get an upset stomach then?”

When Number 8 nodded his head, Yoon Moo-hwa finally gave a small nod, reassuring him to drink more.

“What exactly are you doing right now?” Gu Ye-jin asked with a dry laugh. “It really doesn’t suit you.”

“What doesn’t suit me? Isn’t protecting citizens and helping the weak part of our motto?”

That motto and your actions right now are worlds apart, Gu Ye-jin thought, biting back a retort. She knew arguing further would only end in frustration, so she let it go.

In truth, it wasn’t just Yoon Moo-hwa’s behavior that was unusual. While he was well-groomed and composed enough to serve as a public affairs officer, children had an inexplicable fear of him. They would hide behind even scarier-looking soldiers just to avoid being near him.

But this child, while wary of Gu Ye-jin, had completely let his guard down around Yoon Moo-hwa. Though this child tried to act mature, he showed no signs of discomfort.

“You two seem close.” Gu Ye-jin muttered in a strange tone.

Yoon Moo-hwa picked up the child in his arms, replied casually, “We should be. He’s going to live with me now.”

“Yeah, sure… Wait, what?!” Lieutenant Gu’s voice rose in shock.

Yoon Moo-hwa, maintaining his usual stiff and impassive expression, calmly covered the child’s ears and pulled him closer. It was as though he believed Lieutenant Gu’s raised voice could harm the child’s hearing.

“That’s how it is,” Yoon Moo-hwa said. “We both need to head to the hospital now, so we’ll be off.”

“Wait, wait! You can’t just drop that bombshell and leave! What do you mean by living together? Are you adopting him? Does that mean he’ll be the Admiral’s son too?!”

Yoon Moo-hwa replied with an air of indifference, as though annoyed by her persistence, “No, it’s not adoption.”

“Then what is it?! Temporary guardianship or something?!” Lieutenant Gu heavily mocked the idea, but she genuinely wanted to understand the reasoning behind this enigmatic man’s actions.

Before he could press further, her phone began ringing. While frowning, she clicked her tongue.

“Sounds like an important call. Shouldn’t you answer it, Lieutenant Gu?”

While grinding her teeth, Gu Ye-jin shot him a glare before heading back to her desk. By the time she answered the phone and stated her name and rank, Yoon Moo-hwa had already disappeared.

***

As soon as they entered the elevator, Number 8, who had been quiet during the adults’ conversation, asked carefully, “Are we really going to live together?”

Yoon Moo-hwa nodded while adjusting the hem of the child’s shirt, which had rolled up. “Why? Don’t you like it?”

Yoon Moo-hwa, so accustomed to the rigid command structure of the military, failed to realize how one-sided his decision might seem. Fortunately, Number 8 had no objections. In fact, he was actually delighted.

“No! I like it!”

The boy, still smelling faintly of milk, wiggled excitedly, almost jumping with joy. 

Yoon Moo-hwa smirked. “Just so you know, our home has strict rules. Very strict.”

“Stricter than the adults?”

Apparently ‘Adults’ was a term Number 8 used collectively for the people he’d lived with before.

Yoon Moo-hwa’s expression darkened briefly as he recalled what he had witnessed. “I won’t hit you,” he said firmly.

“Ah, that’s okay. I don’t mind.”

“No. It’s not okay, and you should mind.” Yoon Moo-hwa’s response was very quick. When the child blinked in confusion, Yoon Moo-hwa continued, “It’ll be strict in other ways.”

Number 8 tilted his head.

Before they knew it, Yoon Moo-hwa and Number 8 were in a car. It was Number 8’s first time in a car. He climbed down from Yoon Moo-hwa’s lap and rested his chin on the window frame. He saw a cityscape that was hard to believe was floating on the sea.

The sight was almost overwhelming. Soon, a faint wave of nausea, reminiscent of seasickness, caused him to flop back down.

The child was strangely quiet, but instead of asking why, Yoon Moo-hwa touched his tablet. 

On the way to the military quarters, Number 8 calmly asked, “Where are the adults?”

By now, they would have been transferred to detention. The so-called captain would likely be in the hospital under the watch of military police.

“They’re probably doing fine,” Yoon Moo-hwa replied evasively. “Why? Do you miss them?”

Number 8 shook his head. Even if he said he missed them, he felt he would never see them again. If he went back after leaving with Yoon Moo-hwa, he would be in big trouble, though he felt a pang of guilt for leaving without saying anything.

“If I say I miss them, we’ll have to part again, right?”

“That’s right,” Yoon Moo-hwa said bluntly.

Number 8 replied in a slightly dejected voice, “Then it’s okay.”

Yoon Moo-hwa quietly observed the child, scrutinizing every detail of his eyes, nose, mouth, and expressions. He wondered if the child really missed those people who were never kind to him. After all, Yoon Moo-hwa himself had rarely missed even his father, whom he saw only once a year at most.

Yoon Moo-hwa set aside his tablet and turned fully to the child. “I brought you with me, so I’ll take responsibility.”

“……”

“You saved me, even knowing it might get you into trouble.”

A faint, playful smile crossed Yoon Moo-hwa’s usually stoic face. Only then did Number 8’s tense expression begin to relax.

“It’ll be hard adjusting to a new place, but let’s do our best. You’ll be able to live much better than where you were.”

Number 8 mumbled, “I… don’t know. I didn’t hate it there. Coming with Yoon Moo-hwa, it’s just… I wanted to be with Yoon Moo-hwa.”

Yoon Moo-hwa frowned slightly at the informal way the boy addressed him. What should the child call him? Lieutenant seemed too formal for a child. Hyung? Mister? Uncle? None of them felt quite right.

After some thought, he decided on hyung. It seemed fitting, like thinking of him as a much younger sibling. And now, he needed to give the boy a proper name.

When Yoon Moo-hwa turned his head again after reaching his conclusion, the child was lying askew with his lips slightly parted, asleep.

Yoon Moo-hwa gently adjusted the boy’s position to ensure his neck wouldn’t hurt and rubbed his own eyebrow.

Taking Number 8 from the island had been a calculated decision, but choosing not to send him to an institution was half impulsive. A sense of responsibility had driven him—this child had saved his life and placed his trust entirely in him.

Yoon Moo-hwa tapped his knee and turned his head to look out the window.