A Home Called You

The smell of freshly fried chicken filled the small restaurant on a busy evening in Seoul.

The restaurant wasn't large, but it was always warm and lively. Behind the counter stood **Kang Min-jae**, the owner, while his wife, **Yoon Hye-jin**, moved between the kitchen and the tables with a bright smile.

Their six-year-old son, **Kang Ji-ho**, was usually everywhere at once.

"Mom!"

Hye-jin turned around.

"What is it, Jiji?"

Ji-ho ran toward her with a little toy car in his hand.

"Look! Dad gave me this!"

His eyes sparkled as he held it up proudly.

Hye-jin smiled and crouched down.

"That's nice. But don't run around the restaurant. You'll bump into someone."

"I won't!"

He immediately ran away.

Hye-jin sighed.

"He said that yesterday too."

Min-jae laughed from behind the counter.

"He's six. What do you expect?"

"At least a little obedience."

The three of them laughed.

It was an ordinary evening.

A simple family.

A small restaurant.

And a little boy who believed his parents would always be beside him.

None of them knew that their peaceful life was about to change.

---

That evening, the restaurant became unusually crowded.

People came in one after another, and Min-jae and Hye-jin became busy taking orders and preparing food.

Ji-ho sat near the entrance, playing with his toy car.

He watched his father rush from table to table.

Then he noticed something outside.

A puppy.

A tiny white puppy was standing near the sidewalk.

Ji-ho's eyes widened.

"Mom! Puppy!"

But Hye-jin didn't hear him.

"Mom!"

Still nothing.

Ji-ho looked back at the puppy.

It slowly walked farther down the street.

"I'll just look at it."

He placed his toy car on the chair and quietly stepped outside.

Just for a moment.

That's what he thought.

He followed the puppy around the corner.

Then another corner.

And another.

Soon, the restaurant disappeared from sight.

Ji-ho stopped.

The puppy was gone.

He looked around.

His smile disappeared.

"Mom?"

There was no answer.

He turned around.

But he didn't know which way he had come from.

---

Inside the restaurant, several minutes passed.

Hye-jin finally looked toward the entrance.

Her expression changed.

"Min-jae."

"What?"

"Where's Ji-ho?"

Min-jae looked toward the chair.

The toy car was still there.

But Ji-ho wasn't.

His face immediately went pale.

"Ji-ho?"

They searched the restaurant.

The kitchen.

The restroom.

The nearby streets.

Nothing.

Hye-jin ran from one street to another, calling his name.

"Ji-ho!"

Her voice trembled.

"Jiji!"

No answer.

Min-jae contacted the police.

Neighbors joined the search.

The night became darker.

But there was still no sign of their son.

Hye-jin stood outside their restaurant, trembling as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"He was right here..."

Min-jae held her shoulders.

"We'll find him."

"What if he's scared?"

"We'll find him."

"What if he needs us?"

"We'll find him."

Min-jae repeated those words even though fear was tightening around his own heart.

"We'll find our son."

---

The search continued for days.

Then weeks.

Then months.

A year passed.

The small chicken restaurant remained open, but everything felt different.

Ji-ho's toy car was still kept in the same place.

His photograph remained on the wall.

His parents never stopped looking.

Every unfamiliar phone call made Hye-jin's heart jump.

Every time someone mentioned a missing child, Min-jae investigated.

They refused to give up.

Then, one afternoon, their phone rang.

Hye-jin answered.

"Hello?"

A voice on the other end asked:

"Are you the parents of Kang Ji-ho?"

Hye-jin froze.

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

"Yes..."

"We believe we've found your son."

For several seconds, she couldn't breathe.

Min-jae rushed toward her.

"What happened?"

She looked at him.

Tears were already streaming down her face.

"Ji-ho..."

Her voice broke.

"They found Ji-ho."

For the first time in a year, hope returned to their home.

Their son was alive.

And they were finally going to bring him home.