Monday, September 20, 2010

Episode 20 - Final Episode

Eun-jo and Ki-hoon pick up their minute-year game, this time stepping into the future. Eun-jo adorably draws out their little home in the woods, and muses that once Hyo-sun gets married, they’ll have to take her mother in because she’ll miss having someone to drive crazy. And you’re volunteering for the position? Have you learned nothing?

Ki-hoon seems subdued and pensive, which Eun-jo notes, knowing that he can only think about his father right now. And not big bro? I’ve often wondered why this story takes such pains to make despicable Daddy Hong redeemable, but not Ki-jung. [Requires too much thought. Trying to cram resolution into one hour after wasting twelve. --jb]

Ki-hoon tells her that the drawing and the trip down future bliss lane has helped, and that she can’t change her tune later, or else. What, or you’re going to smile at her to death? He tells her that the stuff he’s about to endure seemed unbearable before, but now none of it matters. They go to tell Hyo-sun the truth. And that right there is Mistake #1: waiting till now to tell Hyo-sun the truth only deflates the dramatic possibilities. Telling someone in the finale is like announcing that they’re going to fold right away anyway, so why worry?

At the winery, Mom hands out gifts to the workers to thank them for a job well done. She promises more to come, as long as they continue to work faithfully in the future. Mom asks to see Hyo-sun’s uncle, and when he hems and haws out of fear, Hyo-sun reassures and sends him in.

Hyo-sun’s face lights up when Ki-hoon and Eun-jo arrive, but alas, Ki-hoon is thwarted again by the presence of investigators who take him away. Will you not let anyone tell the truth out of his own mouth, Show? The investigators tell him that they’ve discovered off-book Hong Ju bank accounts in his name. Oh, crap. Ki-hoon says that it’s going to be okay, and asks Eun-jo to tell Hyo-sun everything. He gets carted off by the men in black, as the girls watch in fear. Eun-jo runs after the car, asking them to stop so she can say something, but they drive on.

Mom sits Hyo-sun’s uncle down for a talk, where she states bald-faced that neither of them wants to see the other. But kicking him to the curb (again) would incite the wrath of Hyo-sun (not to be taken lightly, as she has witnessed firsthand), as well as the ire of the elders. So she’s settled upon a solution: she’s going to marry him off, and she’s even prepared to set him up financially and got a prospective girl lined up. She shows him the picture and he falls for her instantly. Ha. This scene is as much to show the change in Kang-sook as it is to send the uncle off. It illustrates her taking Dae-sung’s place as the caretaker of the winery and the household; she finds a happy medium between staying true to herself, while mellowing out and adopting Dae-sung’s nurturing style. [I like soft and cuddly Kang-sook -- er, less-abrasive and less-wintry Kang-sook? -- and could have used a lot more of this kind of development in the last few episodes rather than hurried Hong Ju plots. --jb]

Meanwhile Eun-jo has filled her sister in on Ki-hoon’s deep dark secrets. This is really the most anticlimactic way to do it, Show. Hyo-sun doesn’t believe it at first, thinking that maybe Eun-jo is making it up to get revenge because of The Letter. I know you’re not very bright, but that makes no kind of sense. She decides that Eun-jo is the bad guy, spitting out that she can’t suffer a girl like her anymore, and that she regrets trying to hold onto her for the past eight years.

Hyo-sun: “Ever since you appeared, do you know how my life has changed? Dad’s gaze started to shift towards you, then permanently landed there. I had to share my Dad. Then, without my knowledge, I became unable to see him at all. I learned that Mom’s love was all a lie, and I found out that Mom had betrayed Dad. And I had to cry because I was the pathetic girl who couldn’t let her go. Because I’m only a stepdaughter…I had to be happy just to be considered a stepdaughter. But now…it’s Ki-hoon oppa?”

It is really sad when you consider it from Hyo-sun’s perspective, and there’s a logical reason she could blame Eun-jo, or the fact of having a stepsister, for all of her major turmoil. But I feel like if we’re adding Ki-hoon into the blame bucket, this is a conversation they should be having after she’s told about their relationship. ‘Cause then it makes a little more sense, and has more oomph behind it. Needless to say, it makes Eun-jo feel so guilty that she can’t even bring up the relationship part.

Hyo-sun makes a run for it, flashing back to all her sweet memories of Ki-hoon oppa. Again, would’ve had more impact if she were already told about him choosing Eun-jo, forcing her to confront the loss. At this point, we know she’s going to have to go through this AGAIN. She falls and Eun-jo rushes to her side. She doesn’t want to be comforted by her, but Eun-jo embraces her, holding her sweetly like a big sister, as Hyo-sun cries.

Eun-jo tends to Hyo-sun’s scraped knee, and then they sit side by side. Eun-jo tells her that she has more to say, and that while she wondered if it was the right thing to do, she thinks it’s best to just hurt all at once. I totally agree. She starts, “Me…and that person…” But Hyo-sun doesn’t let her finish. Aaaargh! Seriously, Show? It’s the final episode. You’re still not letting people speak when they want to? This? Makes me crazy. [Nobody learns in this drama, hardly ever, and I think I am half-insane because of it. They fall into misery and then luck rescues them years later, because finally even IT figures that if it didn't step in, we'd never get our finale. These people would still be stumbling and failing to make any progress for years to come. --jb]

Hyo-sun says that she feels bad for Ki-hoon oppa; that she wants to hug him. Oh boy. Just put her out of her misery! Do it! But Eun-jo clams up. Hyo-sun tells her that Dad wanted to take care of Ki-hoon, and she wonders if he hadn’t left for eight years, he might not have ended up so broken. Ain’t that the truth. She wonders if she offered to put him back together, he’d let her. Um…this might be a good time to tell her you already did that, Eun-jo. Hyo-sun asks her to tell Ki-hoon not to run away. This is painful to watch her be so hopeful. Eun-jo thinks to herself, “In the end, do fairytales not suit me? The sweet, beautiful fairytale world…is that something I’m not allowed to have? I’m not trying to conquer space. I’m not trying to save the planet. Not even trying to save the country…”

Ki-hoon stays calm during the investigation, answering honestly that he never even considered that such an account could exist, and that he has no knowledge of the millions funneled through it.

Eun-jo’s narration continues: “I haven’t ever been able to call him by name. So I’m just asking to live calling his name. Is that really something that can’t be?”

Jung-woo packs his bags and plays one last game of baseball with Jun-su. He hits the ball so hard it disappears into the sun, and then he throws the bat into the river, as he lets go of his love. Aw, bye bye, Eun-jo-is-my-woman bat.

Ki-hoon gets to see his father, who looks impeccably dressed and normal, for someone who’s having such a hard time of it in interrogation. Ki-hoon says that he wants them to live together, bringing tears to Daddy Hong’s eyes. He says that there have been many times he’s wanted Dad to just be a father to him, and nothing more. Ki-hoon says he knows that asking his father to just be honest is probably sentencing him to jail time for god knows how long.

Ki-hoon: “I’ll wait for you. Together with a pretty girl, we’ll get a house for you to live in, and we’ll wait for you. That girl promised to do so. Other than me…don’t hold onto anything else, Father.” And he walks over, holding his father’s hand as both men cry. Daddy Hong looks really tiny for the first time, and he finally opens up to Ki-hoon, putting his own hand on his son’s, grateful for his love. I’m not sure you deserve it, but I’m happy for Ki-hoon nonetheless.

Eun-jo’s a ball of nerves, waiting for word from Ki-hoon. Hyo-sun comes in to tell her that all the elders have reneged on selling their shares to Hong Ju, which is no surprise to Eun-jo since she knows the score. But she doesn’t tell Hyo-sun why. Hyo-sun wants to tell Ki-hoon, so she asks Eun-jo to go to Seoul with her in the morning to try and see him. Eun-jo starts to tell her, but then stops. Again. She thinks to herself: “I wanted to say, what if I only thought about myself? If I just did as I wanted, what would you do? But, this kid who said I stole everything from her, who says she has nothing left of her own…I couldn’t open my mouth in front of her.” You’re killing me. Just put her out of her misery! I know you think you’re sparing her some kind of pain but this is getting really hard to watch. You’re making a fool out of her. Eun-jo agrees to go, making Hyo-sun smile, grateful that Eun-jo’s doing her some huge favor. Augh.

Eun-jo goes outside, and Hyo-sun’s uncle hands her a note from Jung-woo. Another letter? Jung-woo: “No matter where I am, no matter where you are, the only woman in my heart is you. No matter what you do, I’ll always be rooting for you. If you ever need me, I’ll come running. Remember that.” All the “you”s are “noona”s, making it all the cuter. Seriously, how can you pass up this adorable boy and his undying love? Will no one marry this kid? It’s breaking my heart!

She runs out, murmuring “Jung-woo ya,” making my heart flutter in hopes that she might realize at the last moment that she loves him….yeah, I know. Doomed. But this whole sequence coming up is the most dramatic and emotionally charged of the entire episode, so explain that one to me, Show.

Eun-jo runs all the way to the bus stop, calling out his name, and when he sees her coming, he runs to her. You’re tugging at my heartstrings for a couple that will never happen, and I really hate you for that, Show.

Eun-jo asks him where he’s going, if he has anywhere to go. Jung-woo reassures her he has lots of places he can go. She tells him to stop acting rashly and grabs his wrist. Except she’s so small he doesn’t budge an inch (heh) and instead he pulls her in for a hug. Jung-woo: “I wanted to hold you like this, just once. If I let go of you now, you’re going to hit me, right?” Haha. Quippy while being heartbreaking? I may have to marry you myself.

He says it’s okay, he’ll just get hit before he leaves. He assures her he won’t starve, so she doesn’t have to worry about him. “If you don’t live well, I’ll know right away. If you think you might need me, I’ll know right away. If you don’t want me to come running…live well.” Ack! Stop him!

Eun-jo tries, telling him he can’t go when she hasn’t done anything for him. She pleads with him to wait, but he’s insistent that he has to go. How can you expect a guy who loves you that much to sit around and watch you be with another man? He smiles, saying, “No matter where you go, I’ll be with you. You know that, right?” And he gets on the bus, leaving her with one last smile.

I’m going to need a moment to peel myself off the floor. That right there was a stellar send-off and the way all character interactions in the finale should be. Sadly, it’s kind of the highlight of the episode, which is strange. It irks me because I know the drama is capable of it—see, above. So why is it not firing on all cylinders for the rest of the characters? I have no idea. It’s frustrating, mostly because I know it’s attainable.

Jung-woo’s departure stirs something in Eun-jo. She thinks to herself that it’s easier to leave than she thought—you just do it like that, simply and with a smile, like Jung-woo. [I take it back -- these characters occasionally learn things. Only they're all the WRONG THINGS. --jb] She goes to her room and takes out her old rucksack, remembering Dae-sung’s words that she could rely on him. Ki-hoon calls, on his way home to her. He tells her that he’s coming to her, that he misses her, and that he did well, thinking of her. She cries, not letting on what’s going through her head, as she tells him he did well. Ki-hoon: “Eun-jo ya, I’m hungry. I’m coming to you now…to my rotten girl.”

And then? She packs her bags anyway and leaves. Whaa? Why? [Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. --jb] Forced separation twenty minutes from the end? Really, Show? So the man you love is finally done with everything and coming to you, and you pack your bags and leave? Because you’re afraid to tell Hyo-sun that you’ve stolen yet another thing from her? Even though he was never hers to begin with? This is beyond stupid. We’ve spent twenty episodes watching you excruciatingly peel off each of a thousand layers of your onion heart, making you, everyone else, and us cry in the process, and now you’re regressing to your teenage runaway days? Way to reward your viewers. I feel like I just got kicked in the groin.

The other reason this is ineffectual is that when you force a separation this far along into the final episode, it saps all the dramatic tension right out of it. She’s just going to be found fifteen minutes later. Or what, do you really think you’re scaring us into believing that it’s going to end this way? In the end it just makes Eun-jo a coward at precisely the wrong moment. Why not have her show growth by standing upright and facing her sister? She could accept what’s coming and be the bigger person, the titular unni, as it were. But no. You made her run.

Ki-hoon returns to find yet another letter: “Please take care of Hyo-sun,” and Eun-jo gone. Hyo-sun quakes at the realization: “Unni abandoned me and left.” Ki-hoon entreats Mom to tell him where she went, but Mom refuses to tell him, lying badly that she doesn’t know where Eun-jo went.

A few months pass, and the winery is doing well. Hyo-sun’s uncle is still there, so maybe the wedding didn’t go as planned? Hyo-sun gets word from a friend that someone knows a Gu Eun-jo at a lab, so she rushes over to check it out. She asks if it’s real this time, implying that she’s been looking tirelessly for months. Ki-hoon’s car is parked outside, raising her hopes. But alas, this Gu Eun-jo is a man, so they both leave dejected.

Outside, Hyo-sun asks Ki-hoon if he and Eun-jo made any promises before she left. She means ‘promise’ specifically here, as a euphemism for marriage or engagement. Ki-hoon answers that they did. She lets go of his arm, asking why he didn’t say anything before, when she asked that they start over. He replies that he needed time to think, because Eun-jo had asked him to take care of Hyo-sun in her letter, but he didn’t know what it meant. He thought until Eun-jo came back he’d take care of Hyo-sun…and Hyo-sun finally gets it now. She tells him to stop. My heart breaks for her a little here, that they’ve reduced her down to this, loving him for this long without knowing. But she takes it in stride, and tells him that they should join forces to find Eun-jo.

As he walks away, she calls after him that he’s just been rejected by her. It’s adorable and plucky of her to turn it around like this and make him smile about it, instead of feeling guilty. And she picks herself up quite well on her own. She asks, smiling with tears, that when Eun-jo returns, if he could go away for a little while. That way, when he comes back, she’ll be able to regard him as her brother-in-law. Aw, what a long way you’ve come, little girl. Ki-hoon says he will. Hyo-sun lets a tear fall as she says that she misses Eun-jo.

It turns out that guy wasn’t Gu Eun-jo, of course, but just Eun-jo’s officemate, who she asked to lie for her. Ki-hoon happens to overhear the guy on the street, introducing himself by his real name over the phone. It gives him pause, but he doesn’t think anything else of it. Do we have to spell it out for you?

Hyo-sun calls him later that day, saying that she ran across a short article about yeast in a magazine, which doesn’t have Eun-jo’s byline, but sounds totally like she wrote it. It names that same lab as the place of research, which reminds Ki-hoon of the guy using his real name. He rushes over. [Worst. Logic. Ever. You read a scientific article that SOUNDS like it was written in your sister's "voice"? Who does this show think Eun-jo is, David Foster Wallace? --jb]

Eun-jo leaves work, and when she comes out, Ki-hoon is standing across the street, staring at her. He looks mad. Who wouldn’t be? She bolts down the street, and he chases her down his side, calling out to her. She keeps running, and he makes a run for it, crossing the street in the middle of traffic. We hear horns honking and tires screeching, as Eun-jo turns in slow motion.

Come on, really, Show? You’re going THERE? This is going to be such a cheap fakeout. If Ki-hoon were going to die, you’d have been allowed true bliss and togetherness, in order for it to be stripped from you oh so sadly. But you guys have barely had a moment to be happy in the present, what with spending your precious few happy minutes reliving the past or dreaming of the future. Not to mention the stupid past fifteen minutes when you ran away for no good reason.

She zombie walks toward the street amidst the honking horns, but Ki-hoon appears and puts his hand on her shoulder to stop her. He takes her by the hand (The hand! Success!) and leads her to…where else? More picturesque surroundings.

Ki-hoon yells at her (as well he should) for the supreme idiocy of her ways. She just asks, “Number Four…what was it? In ‘The Things to tell MMM’…what was number four?” Ki-hoon: “Do you want to hear it?” Eun-jo: “I might never have been able to hear it, and you could have died!” We’ve come this far and you STILL can’t address him by name? Ki-hoon: “I love you. You rotten girl. I love you!” Haha. I have to say, it’s the least romantic-sounding love confession I’ve heard, but it’s adorable and SO befitting the two of them.

She hugs him, and they kiss, with the sun streaming down on them. She asks what MMM stands for, and he tells her, “Mi malo muchacha. My bad girl.” (I think the gender on that is wrong, Spanish tutor. But I suppose you never really knew Spanish, just learned it to get close to Eun-jo, so that’s okay. Also, we’ve been translating “my bad girl” as “my rotten girl” throughout, because frankly, “my bad girl” sounds, um, wrong in English.)

The whole family picks up an award for the winery, and Ki-hoon shows up, presumably months later, having gone away like Hyo-sun requested.

The sisters come into Dad’s office, offering up their prize and flowers to Dad in silence. Hyo-sun turns to Eun-jo: “Don’t you have anything to confess, in front of Dad? Do you not know what I mean? I…missed you.” She looks at her sister with hopeful eyes. Eun-jo: “I…missed you too.” Breakthrough!

Hyo-sun tenderly takes Eun-jo’s hand, with Dae-sung’s picture in the background. They hug, finally able to love each other as sisters. Dae-sung literally shows up to envelope them in a hug, making each of them feel his presence. It’s a little ham-handed and slightly creepy, but their reactions are sweet.

I think the picture of Dad was anvils a plenty—we get it. Dad’s love brought them together in the end. We didn’t really need the cameo at the end. What I wanted, though, was an actual confrontation between these two. If Eun-jo had been given a chance to say her piece in the beginning of the episode, if she’d just ripped off the band-aid, then we could have actually gotten a dramatic scene between them, causing a rift, maybe giving Eun-jo a real reason for the forced separation (other than stupid, boring noble angst). Then the reunion between the sisters could’ve been the climax. Instead we skip over their reunion (what the?) and instead get this in the epilogue.

If you’re setting up the main conflict in the finale to be not will-Eun-jo-and-Ki-hoon-or-won’t-they, but will-sisters-be-able-to-overcome-loving-one-man, then you have to SHOW THE CONFLICT. I feel…let down. Not because things didn’t end the way I wanted, because in essence, everyone got their happy ending like they should. But because I feel like I was robbed of the good stuff that I wanted to see. Even Mom, who got the brush-off this episode, didn’t get a single satisfying conversation with Eun-jo, after ALL of that to-Hell-and-back drama we’ve endured between them for twenty episodes.

I thought, if there’s one thing this drama knows how to do, it’s the angst and histrionics, so I was really looking forward to a dramatic finish with a happy send-off at the end. But sadly, I feel like I got all dressed up for the prom…and Show stood me up.

That’s not to say there weren’t things I didn’t love about this drama. It had all the makings of a hit, what with a stellar cast and some really poetic moments, most of which involved people running from each other. It was lush, and beautiful, and at times very moving, and sometimes darkly funny in the most poignant ways. But it never went anywhere interesting, plotwise, and took forever to get there, and in the end, it didn’t even deliver on the most basic interactions that I wanted, nay needed, to see in the finale. I’ll choose to remember this one by the highlight reel, and my own dreams of what it could have been.

Episode 19

After being released from his brother’s clutches, Ki-hoon drives along, in such a great mood that he can’t stop smiling. Despite that, Eun-jo doesn’t share his ebullience and is more concerned about his condition — he’s hungry, as he hadn’t eaten a thing during his kidnapping. When they stop in the middle of the woods, Ki-hoon gestures her closer for a talk. (Why is he always taking her into the woods to talk? One of these days he’s gonna pull up to a Unabomber-style shack, is all I’m sayin’.) Eun-jo goes off in search of food instead.

There’s no restaurant around, so she prevails upon an elderly shopkeeper, asking for some porridge. As Ki-hoon eats, he tells her that he knows what she’s thinking (as in, worrying about all of their business problems) but for the next 80 minutes, it doesn’t matter because he’s going to act like it’s eight years ago, like he never took that train and they never separated. He’ll treat every 10 minutes like a year, starting with 2002.

With that, he begins by talking to Eun-jo as though he’s still her math tutor, taking her to task for missing a problem he had shown her how to solve. Eun-jo smiles at his silliness, but she allows him this exercise by playing along (ever so slightly), addressing him as she used to when he was her tutor.

What follows is one of the more inspired sequences of this drama, because we get to see them acting as they might have if Ki-hoon had never left and their relationship had never suffered that crippling break. Of course, we wouldn’t have had a drama if they’d been allowed to have a healthy relationship unhampered by avaricious family members and phone-induced-death guilt. But this is the version of their relationship that I’d wished for them back then.

As one 10-minute segment bleeds into the next, Eun-jo goes from being a high schooler to a new university student at Ki-hoon’s school. They continue “dating,” and he voices displeasure about that boy who’s been hanging around her at school.

A bike trip to the gas station gives the two an excuse to imagine that they’re on a date, and now we’re four years into the exercise: Ki-hoon supposedly continues at graduate school because he’s reluctant to jump into the workforce and leave Eun-jo behind, worrying that she’ll date somebody else at school. He scolds her about her grades as she rests her head on his back.

Another 10-minute segment passes, and now Ki-hoon argues about Eun-jo wanting to study abroad, and offers to teach her English instead. In their imaginary version of 2008 when Eun-jo graduates from university, their relationship has remained strong, with no breaks.

Finally, by the time they make it back to the car, Ki-hoon talks about marriage. He assures her he’s got everything to make her happy — good brain, good looks, good sense of humor. He doesn’t have money, but he’ll earn some from now on. And he wants to live with his father in this scenario, since Dad was pushed out of his job at the company.

Ki-hoon talks about all this in a very mundane way — the beauty of the imaginary 80-minutes-as-8-years is that it’s plain and ordinary, since normalcy is a luxury they haven’t been able to enjoy. Eun-jo thinks to herself that this Ki-hoon has never hurt her, bears no guilty conscience, and therefore is able to propose marriage freely. She decides to make him wait for her answer, just to make him suffer a little bit, and tells him he’d better earn some money first before she’ll consider saying yes.

However, as their 80 minutes come to a close, the smile fades from Ki-hoon’s face; real life is intruding on the fairy-tale fantasy. Eun-jo heads back to the store to thank the grandma for her help, and when she turns back, Ki-hoon and the car are gone. The fool has actually left her behind.

Ki-hoon calls her to say he’s going to deliver the evidence to Hong Ju in order to save Dae-sung Co. He’s doing this because he knows she’d protest, and she does in fact try to talk him out of it, but he is determined.

Then more distressing news: Hyo-sun calls in a panic because Jun-su is gone. He wasn’t at school when she went to pick him up, he’s not in the house, which she has searched, and none of his friends know where he is. Will this drama not be satisfied until everyone has either run away or made the attempt?

Jung-woo, Hyo-sun’s uncle, and the ajummas scour the neighborhood looking for Jun-su, while Hyo-sun tries to contain her fears and calls Kang-sook to try to let her know. Eun-jo heads home in a taxi, worried about her brother and thinking to herself that her fairy tale ended at 5:20.

Kang-sook comes upon her friend’s daughter crying alone in a playground. The girl hates how her mom flirts and fights with those men every day, and I’m sure it’s no coincidence that the girl has Eun-jo’s haircut to match Eun-jo’s childhood damage. Kang-sook tells the girl that her mother isn’t doing those things out of enjoyment, but to feed her daughter.

Her words don’t soothe the girl, though, who continues to cry, and Kang-sook asks, “Does it really make you that upset?” At the girl’s nod, Kang-sook draws her in a hug and says sorry: “How could I have known that this would be so painful to a young thing?” Sigh — this drama always manages to force its characters to make important conversations with the wrong people.

Honestly, I don’t really buy that this is what finally makes Kang-sook realize the pain she gave to Eun-jo. It’s true that a lot of events have transpired to bring her to this point, and I agree that she’s more open now than she used to be. Still, this feels like an awfully easy way to bring her around at the last minute.

On their way out of the police station (with still no sign of Little Bro), Eun-jo tries to console Hyo-sun, saying Jun-su will be fine. Hyo-sun asks where her sister has been all day — where was she when Hyo-sun spent all day begging grandma about the stocks and Jun-su disappeared from home? She asks, “Are you even worried about Jun-su? Have you ever held him? Do you even know he’s our brother? Have you ever thought of him as your brother?”

Whoa, whoa. That seems unfair, and while I can see her frustration, it’s pretty out of line to accuse Eun-jo as though her afternoon away is the reason he ran off. As I recall, Hyo-sun was home and he STILL disappeared, so… what more does she expect?

But Hyo-sun makes a valid point, I think, about Eun-jo never showing any interest in Jun-su. It’s not true that she doesn’t care for him, but that’s something we understand as adults; it’s no surprise that a child would translate a lack of interaction with a lack of interest. When she flips through Jun-su’s sketchbook, she finds a family portrait where he has only drawn four, with her conspicuously absent.

Ki-hoon parks his car in front of the Hong Ju offices and calls his brother to arrange a deal: He’ll trade his evidence against them for a contract promising to stop messing with Dae-sung Co. and a return of the stocks shares they’d bought from the elders. Ki-jung rejects this deal, telling Ki-hoon to do his worst. He doesn’t believe Ki-hoon would actually do it, because that would ruin their father. Ki-hoon tells him firmly that he has it in him, and gives him his deadline: he’ll wait till tomorrow morning.

While the family members sit and wait anxiously for news, Kang-sook arrives, frantically asking about Jun-su. Where did they look? Did they search everywhere? Both sisters are shocked at her return, and Hyo-sun comes up to hug her, asking tentatively if Mom’s really back for good. She doesn’t get an answer, because Kang-sook rushes out in frustration to keep looking.

And then they find him… under the desk? Seriously, folks? Remind me to never ask any of these people to look for anything for me if this constitutes looking “everywhere” for a missing child. It’s not even a JFK style desk, which I could understand, but a big stinkin’ open space that cries OHO LOOK HERE LOOK AT ME ARE YOU BLIND? HELLOOOO!

And even then, they don’t find Jun-su until he wakes up and starts to sob. The noise draws them to Dae-sung’s office, where Mom hugs him in relief, joined by Hyo-sun. Eun-jo watches this family reunion from the sidelines, feeling how very much she’s not a part of it. In her room, she sits alone — sending a concerned Jung-woo away — and thinks to herself again how her fairy tale ended this afternoon.

Mom and Hyo-sun bathe Jun-su, who basks in all the adoration. He explains that he was playing hide and seek, and a flashback shows us how he ended up under Dae-sung’s desk.

As he’d often done when Dad was alive, Jun-su had been playing hide and seek with Dae-sung in a sort of imaginary playtime. At first it seems like he’s merely reliving a previous game, but memory blurs with reality when this Dae-sung tells Jun-su to watch over his mother and sisters, as he is now the man of the house.

Eun-jo presses her mother to explain why she left and why she’s back, but Kang-sook insists that she has nothing to say. As the family eats, Hyo-sun tells Kang-sook they’re poor now — they may even lose the house. It’s her way of laying all the cards on the table, to ask what Kang-sook will do if the worst-case scenario comes to pass. Will she leave the family if there’s nothing more for her to rip off? Hyo-sun entreats Kang-sook to let her know what she’s planning so she can prepare herself.

Kang-sook admits in a matter-of-fact tone that she had only been interested in materialistic gain, so why would Hyo-sun believe any sweet words she might say now? And then she criticizes Hyo-sun’s way of speaking — talking all around the main point in circles rather than stating her words clearly — and tells her to learn proper speech from Eun-jo, which strikes me as telling someone to learn how to sprint from a turtle. But this comment isn’t delivered harshly, and fixating on this mundane topic is her roundabout way (ironically?) of letting the girls know that she’s not planning on leaving. To confirm that point, she grumbles to Hyo-sun about not losing this house — doesn’t she know that she is Song Kang-sook? She’ll be damned if she lets someone take this house away from her.

Kang-sook takes control like she was never gone, gathering the employees of the winery to lecture them on their lax work ethics. However, this time the tone of her censure is different from before; in the past, she was all about exerting her authority, while now it seems like she may even care about the state of the company. When Hyo-sun’s uncle walks by and looks at Kang-sook in alarm, she surprises him by not kicking him out, as he’s thinking. Instead, she orders him to get back to work — a pretty clear sign of acceptance, given how many times she’s tried to get rid of him in the past.

This attitude change extends to Hyo-sun, whom she treats with neither derision nor adoration but plain speaking. Flipping through Hyo-sun’s closet, Kang-sook tells her to give some of her nice things to Eun-jo, since she ought to feel bad for owning tons of pretty things when Eun-jo dresses so plainly. It appears Kang-sook has finally found her middle ground, but Hyo-sun’s confused at this new side.

Kang-sook levels with her, saying that she’s going to act as a stepmother now. She can’t outright lie anymore, and she’s tired of sweetening her words, so she’ll be honest — she can’t feel the same way about Hyo-sun as she does about her flesh-and-blood children. When Eun-jo or Jun-su are sick, she feels like her organs are being cut out of her, but she can’t feel that way about Hyo-sun, who only merits stab-wound levels of pain. However, she concedes that there’s eight years of attachment here, and Hyo-sun is the person who most reminds her of Dae-sung — so now she’s decided they’ll have a stepmother-stepdaughter relationship.

It’s difficult to read Hyo-sun’s reaction to this. There are so many emotions mixed up in there — confusion, hope, resentment — that you can’t pinpoint just one. But it’s the stabbing comment she chooses to fix upon, asking if Kang-sook really means that — is that how much Hyo-sun means to her, that she’d feel like she got stabbed if she were sick? Kang-sook answers yes.

With Kang-sook, I’d think this is light-years of development and let it rest, but Hyo-sun pushes for more. In time, with more bonding between them, would Hyo-sun ever get to the level of an organ-wrenching pain? This is hilarious, arguing about the varying degrees of pain associated with disembowelment, and Hyo-sun won’t be satisfied until her hypothetical illness would bring Mom the maximum levels of hypothetical agony.

Hyo-sun grabs Kang-sook in a hug and tells her not to forget her sins against Hyo-sun or her father. (That strikes me as a pretty ominous thing to say, but it’s likely this is her way of reminding her not to run away anymore.) She adds, “I won’t tell you to pay it back with other things, so just hurt the same with me as you do with unni.”

I can’t decide if this is knee-slappingly funny or moving. Maybe both.

As Jung-woo looks at the inscription written on his baseball bat, he recalls his childhood and how he grew up loving Eun-jo. The flashbacks take him through their early days together, up through their almost-date on his “birthday.” Aie, indulging in such idyllic recollections now just foreshadows a big dose of heart-breaking to come, doesn’t it? Batten down the hatches, people!

Sure enough, Jung-woo insists on talking to Eun-jo — for once not letting her brush him off — and presents her with his bat. He knows that he’s going to be rejected, but he has to do this anyway, no matter her response.

With that, he makes his confession/proposal, telling her that she’s been his woman since he was young, and he has always wanted to take care of her. Ki-hoon has made her cry a lot, and will keep making her cry in the future, and he can’t sit back and watch that happen: “Live with me.” That’s basically a marriage proposal, and he promises to make her happy, to only live for her. Oh, it’s so sad to think of the adorably pudgy little boy saying this, and getting the door firmly shut on him.

Eun-jo tells him that it’s not that she dislikes Jung-woo, but she can’t be with him because she likes Ki-hoon so much. Even though she doesn’t know if she can be with Ki-hoon for the long haul, it doesn’t matter to her: “What does it matter when I’m crazy about him? You’ll meet a woman who will like you as much as I like him.” She hands the bat back, saying that she cares about him. But now she’s got to go to Ki-hoon.

Having waited all night in his car, Ki-hoon wakes in the early morning. The lack of a response from Ki-jung means that he’s not planning on complying, but that turns out to be a moot issue anyway, because the truth has already come out.

Eun-jo has read the reports in the morning paper, and heads over to Hong Ju. Ki-hoon sees her entering the building and follows her up, trying to urge her to stand by because it’s almost over. But no, she corrects him — it’s already over. Hong Ju and his father have already been charged with their misdeeds.

At that, the doors open and out steps Ki-jung, who tells Little Bro that he’s won. It turns out that Director Park blew the whistle on the company, conveniently removing the dilemma of Ki-hoon blowing the whistle on his own family. This is another contrived plot turn that would drive me absolutely nuts if this weren’t the penultimate episode and I weren’t so relieved that problems are being resolved rather than strung out.

Eun-jo and Ki-hoon watch from the car as his father is escorted to his car, mobbed by overeager reporters. Ki-hoon wades through the crowd to knock on his father’s window, and leans in close — so as not to be overheard — to ask his father one more time to leave it all behind.

Ki-hoon promises to support him and be the devoted son, if his father will leave this all behind and come with him. (I’m not sure that President Hong has any agency left that allows him to decide to leave anything behind, frankly, what with the inevitable lawsuit and perhaps criminal charges he’s facing. But I’ll interpret this as mostly symbolic talk, not literal.)

Dad is touched at Ki-hoon’s heartfelt entreaty, even moved to tears, and he looks at him fondly. But of course it isn’t so simple and he can’t (or won’t) do that. The window goes back up and he instructs his driver onward.

I don’t suppose his father’s decision comes as a huge surprise, but it hurts nonetheless. After the car drives away and the crowd disperses, Ki-hoon remains standing by numbly. Eun-jo approaches and takes his hand, then gently leads him back to the car.

Meanwhile, Hyo-sun and her mother go shopping for some clothes, and Kang-sook picks out a shirt to buy Eun-jo. The point being that she isn’t buying anything for stepdaughter Hyo-sun. But in its own weird way, Hyo-sun isn’t hurt by this version of Kang-sook and even takes it in an encouraging light. Teasingly, she tells her mother not to discriminate between daughters, and adds her own garment to the pile. Funny how this is a sign of progress in this family, isn’t it?

Eun-jo drives them to Ki-hoon’s favorite conversation spot — the forest — and steps aside to allow him some privacy while he cries in heartwrenching sobs.

After some time has passed, she opens his car door and pats him on the shoulder. Then she takes his hand again, gently leading him out of the car.

Eun-jo envelops him in a hug, her hand moving soothingly on his back in a consoling gesture. She tells him that he should have told her from the very start (that’s what I’m sayin’!), because she would have been able to help him in his difficult times. They could have discussed things together, “and we wouldn’t have had to lose anything.”

Eun-jo: “‘You can lean on me.‘ When Dad said that to me, I knew that even if I didn’t lean on him right away, I’d found someone to lean on whenever I needed. At that moment, it was like something that was bundled up stiffly suddenly came loose and relaxed. Lean on me. You can lean on me. I’m telling you to lean on me this time, okay?”

He holds her tightly for long moments, and when he draws back, he first presses a kiss to her forehead.

And then, ever so slowly, they kiss.

 
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