Hey There, Dad.

Bajie watched as Yoonjie tightened his sword belt and strapped on his gear with a mixture of frustration and sadness. He could see the storm of emotions raging in his son's eyes, and it pained him to know that so much of it was a direct result of his past decisions and the venom his ex-wife had dripped into Yoonjie's ears over the years. The boy—no, the young man—standing before him was a testament to years of manipulation and misplaced loyalty, a young man who had been forced to grow up too soon, taking on burdens no child should ever bear.

Bajie understood the anger; he had felt it himself once, but for different reasons. He knew Yoonjie couldn't yet see the full picture, couldn't understand the complexities that had driven Bajie to make the choices he had. He had tried to protect Yoonjie from the worst of it, but in doing so, he had unintentionally driven a wedge between them, one that seemed impossible to bridge now.

Bajie braced himself as Yoonjie stepped closer, using his height to loom over him, attempting to intimidate. It was a tactic Bajie had seen before, but it hurt more coming from his own flesh and blood.

Yoonjie, he began, his voice soft but firm, I know you're angry. And you have every right to be. I did make a choice, and it was a hard one. But you need to understand, I didn't choose her over you. I chose what I thought was the lesser of two evils. I had two choices once Flea was defeated in the ring and soured in the eyes of Andruil. I could keep living it up as one of Andruil’s favoured fighters, while Flea, whom I trained and who trusted me to look out for them was thrown back down and treated like dirt, or I could help Flea escape. Perhaps I’d been a bit cocky, thinking I could pull one over on Andruil, but once I was caught my path was clear. Your mother couldn’t handle life back down at the bottom, and it wasn’t the life I wanted for you, so we separated.

@Yoonjie