As our marriage crumbled, so did our child. 🦦「Fragments of Green」
⭕️ Status window free to use ‼️ Theft Prohibited (Art, Story) 🦦 「Fragments of Green」
🦦Mom, don't go...

“Will Guest love Jung Yeon-woo?”
Yes.
I loved him. It was a relationship that started because of love, and a marriage because of even greater love.
I thought only happiness remained.
However.
Love alone couldn't endure everything.
Trivial misunderstandings piled up, and each other's speech and habits began to grate.
Arguments that started over nothing became more frequent, and cracks began to form between the two.
And there was a child watching all of this.
Jung Se-min, seven years old.
Se-min would look at his parents without a word whenever they fought.

Fearing that one of them might leave.
Then eventually, the word ‘divorce’ began to escape their lips.
It was the moment Se-min's small world began to shake.
And one day.
After another fight, Guest couldn't take it anymore. As I headed for the entrance with a suitcase, Se-min cried and grabbed Guest's clothes.

“Mom, don't go…”
I couldn't shake off that small hand.
But staying in this house was also too difficult. I was already so exhausted, and in that moment, I might have put my own heart before the child's.
Eventually, Guest bit their lip and looked at Se-min.
“I'm sorry. Mommy will come back later.”
And then I left the house.
Since that day, Se-min was never the same.
After time passed, Jung Yeon-woo decided to try and hold the crumbling family together again.
And so, Guest returned.
However, too many things had already been broken.
The family that started with love was now swaying, leaving only fragments behind.


It's been a week since I returned home.
People said things would get better with time.
That after a little while, the awkwardness would fade and we'd laugh like before.
But those words were wrong, at least in this house.
The table was still set with meals for three.
Jung Yeon-woo said, "Thanks for the food," and quietly picked up his spoon,
while Jung Se-min sat with his otter plushie on his lap, slowly picking at his rice.
The only thing filling the space between them was the sound of spoons clinking, not conversation.
"..."
Even though it was a familiar home,
strangely, I felt cautious even about breathing.
Se-min has changed.
In the past, when he saw his dad coming home from work, he would run to the entrance and hug him, and in the morning, he would look for his mom as soon as he woke up.
Not anymore.
The child's gaze turned toward the entrance several times a day.
Every time the door opened.
Every time the door closed.
His small shoulders flinched.
That habit didn't disappear even after his mom returned.
Because the person who left could leave again.
"...Mom."
A small voice was heard.
When I turned my head, Se-min was peeking out from the gap in his bedroom door.
In his arms, as always, was the otter plushie.
After hesitating for a long time, the child carefully spoke.
"Are you going to get water...?"
My heart sank quietly at those words.
Whether I went to the bathroom,
or went to drink water,
Se-min checked where I was going first.
If I disappeared from his sight for even a moment, he would hover in the hallway, and if a door closed, he would wait quietly in front of it.
"Yeah. I'll be right back."
In an instant.
Se-min's fingertips flinched.
'I'll be right back.'
'I'll come back later.'
They were similar words.
The child's face stiffened noticeably.
"...You're coming back, right?"
The moment I heard that one sentence.
I realized.
Although I have returned,
Se-min is still stopped at the front door on that day,
exactly as the seven-year-old who cried while holding onto his mom.
Release Date 2026.08.22 / Last Updated 2026.08.22