kang siblings
kang sae-byeok x kang dae-ho x kang no-eul x kang cheol
headcannons about these chaotic siblings <3
warnings: no traumatic squid games. one mention of parent death. the rest is fluff while trying to stick with the characters personalities
the kang household, a small house outside of busan in gyeongju, is full of clatter from the heavy ceramic dishes no-eul owns and the hum of evening life.
the small dining room was lit by a single overhead bulb casting a warm, golden glow over the table.
no-eul, the eldest sibling, stood at the stove, stirring a pot of kimchi jjigae with a practiced hand.
the woman's sharp eyes darted to the clock on the wall.
19:15 pm.
sae-byeok was late again.
no-eul sighed, her lips pressing into a thin line.
all of the responsibility weighed on her like a second skin. she keeps reminding her little sister about being on time for their weekly dinners, but it seemed like no use.
“cheol, sit up straight,” no-eul said, her voice firm but not unkind.
she glanced at her youngest brother, ten years old and squirming in his chair, his chopsticks dangling loosely in his small hand.
cheol’s dark hair fell into his eyes as he poked at the plate of banchan in front of him, clearly avoiding the steamed greens no-eul had piled onto his plate.
“why do i have to eat these?”
cheol whined, his voice soft but carrying that familiar stubborn streak that all the kang siblings shared.
it must be genetic.
the little boy pushed a piece of spinach around with his chopstick, his nose wrinkling.
“they taste like dirt.”
no-eul set the ladle down and turned, one hand on her hip. her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her expression was all business.
“because greens are good for you, cheol. they’ve got vitamins. you want to grow up strong for soccer, don’t you? you can’t score goals if you’re fainting from malnutrition.”
cheol pouted, his round cheeks puffing out, “i’m not gonna faint. i’m fine. i had kimbap at school.”
“kimbap isn’t enough,” no-eul shot back, her tone leaving no room for argument. she crossed her arms, leaning against the counter.
“you need vegetables to stay healthy. you want to be like dae-ho, all big and strong, right?”
at the mention of his name, dae-ho looked up from the other side of the table, where he was meticulously arranging his own plate. the man's broad shoulders hunched slightly. unfortunately it is a habit from his days in the marines, but his face softened into a goofy grin.
“hey, don’t drag me into this,” dae-ho said, his voice light despite the faint shadow in his eyes.
dae-ho was no-eul’s fraternal twin, younger by four hours...a fact she never let him forget.
the man's time in the military had left him with a muscular build and a lingering unease that sometimes crept into his silences, but he masked it with humor.
“cheol, just eat the greens, man. no-eul’s gonna lecture you all night if you don’t.”
cheol groaned dramatically, flopping back in his chair.
“you’re supposed to be on my side, hyung.”
“i am on your side,” dae-ho said, chuckling.
he reached over and ruffled cheol’s hair, earning a half-hearted swat from the boy.
“but no-eul’s scary when she’s right.... and she’s always right.”
no-eul rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the small smirk tugging at her lips. she turned back to the stove, ladling the jjigae into bowls. the savory aroma of fermented cabbage and pork filled the room, mingling with the scent of rice steaming in the cooker. it was a familiar routine, one that grounded her.
the oldest sister had always been the rock of the family, the one who made sure bills were paid, homework was done, and everyone was fed.
it wasn’t easy. especially with sae-byeok’s constant troublemaking, cheol's busy schedule with school and sports, and dae-ho’s mental struggles with ptsd, but she managed.
she always did.
out of no where, the front door slammed open with a noise that was louder than needed.
sae-byeok strode in, her leather jacket slung over one shoulder.
the younger woman was six years younger than her older twin siblings. the first thing everyone noticed about her was those angular cheekbones, her piercing eyes, and a scowl that seemed permanently etched into her face.
sae-byeok's dark hair was tied back loosely, a few strands falling into her eyes as she kicked off her muddy boots.
“what’s for dinner?” she asked, her voice rough, like she’d just come from a fight.
knowing sae-byeok, she probably had.
“you’re late,” no-eul said without turning around, her tone clipped.
“again.”
sae-byeok shrugged, dropping into a chair with a careless grace.
“got held up. stuff to do.”
“stuff,” no-eul repeated, her voice dripping with skepticism. she set a bowl of jjigae in front of sae-byeok, her eyes narrowing.
“what kind of stuff? you better not be stealing again.”
sae-byeok’s lips twitched into a smirk, but there was a defensive glint in her eyes.
“relax, unnie. i was just… handling stuff.”
“stuff,” no-eul muttered, shaking her head. she sat down at the table, her posture rigid.
“one of these days, sae-byeok, you’re gonna get beat up or jailed, and i’m not bailing you out.”
“you’d bail me out,” sae-byeok said confidently but calmly, grabbing her chopsticks.
“you love me too much.”
no-eul snorted but didn’t deny it.
she couldn’t.
for all her toughness, sae-byeok was still her sister, and no-eul would move mountains for any of them, even if it meant scolding them into oblivion first.
dae-ho, ever the peacemaker, leaned forward, his eyes bright with mischief.
“okay, okay, let’s not fight before we eat. sae-byeok, you gotta try no-eul’s jjigae. it’s, like, next-level today. i swear she put magic in it.”
“magic,” sae-byeok said dryly, but she took a spoonful, her expression softening slightly as the flavor hit her tongue, “not terrible.”
“not terrible?” no-eul said, raising an eyebrow, “i slaved over that stove for an hour.”
“yeah, and you’re gonna make us clean the dishes for it,” sae-byeok shot back, but there was a teasing edge to her voice now.
the tension eased, just a little, as the siblings settled into their usual rhythm.
cheol, still poking at his greens, looked up at sae-byeok with wide, curious eyes.
“noona, did you get in a fight again? your knuckles look red and the middle one is busted open.”
sae-byeok froze for a split second, her hand curling instinctively to hide the bruised knuckles.
the attempted at covering her knuckled with her jacket must've failed, since a blood stain now appears where her knuckle laid.
the third sibling leaned back, her tiny smirk returning.
“maybe. next time I'll show you how it happens.”
“sae-byeok,” no-eul snapped, her voice sharp enough to cut through the room, “don’t encourage him.”
“what? he asked,” sae-byeok said, raising her hands in mock surrender.
“besides, cheol’s tough. he can handle it. right, kid?”
cheol grinned, his chest puffing out a little, “yeah! i’m tough. i scored two goals at practice today.”
“two goals?” dae-ho said, his face lighting up. he reached over to high-five cheol, who slapped his hand enthusiastically.
“that’s my boy. you’re gonna be a pro someday and be like son heung-min, i swear.”
“if he eats his greens,” no-eul added pointedly, shooting cheol a look.
cheol groaned again, but he finally picked up a piece of spinach and popped it into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated disgust.
“happy now?” he mumbled.
“thrilled,” no-eul said, her voice dry but her eyes soft.
she reached over and squeezed cheol’s shoulder, a rare moment of affection that made him squirm but smile.
the meal continued, the table filled with the sounds of chopsticks clinking against bowls and the siblings’ banter.
dae-ho got the urge to tell a ridiculous story about a time he got lost on a training exercise in the marines, exaggerating wildly to make cheol laugh.
sae-byeok, listened quietly with her eyes flicking to her siblings with a protectiveness she’d never admit to.
no-eul kept the conversation on track, steering it away from sae-byeok’s “business” and toward safer topics, like cheol’s upcoming school project.
beneath the surface, there was a weight they all carried.
dae-ho’s laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes, and every so often, he’d pause, his gaze distant, like he was somewhere else entirely. no-eul noticed, she always did but she didn’t push.
not yet.
sae-byeok’s defiance was a shield, one she’d built over years of getting into trouble and clawing her way out after helping all of them deal with the death of their parents.
cheol, sweet and sensitive, was growing up too fast, caught in the orbit of his older siblings’ struggles.
“you okay, hyung?” cheol asked suddenly, his voice small.
he was looking at dae-ho, who had gone quiet, his spoon hovering over his bowl.
dae-ho blinked, then flashed a quick smile.
“yeah, buddy. just thinking about how i’m gonna beat you in that 1v1 this weekend.”
“you wish,” cheol said, his grin returning.
he scooted his chair a little closer to dae-ho, like he could sense the storm inside his brother.
no-eul watched the exchange, her heart tightening. she reached for her own bowl, her movements deliberate.
sae-byeok rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say anything to her brothers bickering.
instead, she reached over and stole a piece of kimchi from dae-ho’s plate, ignoring his protest.
“what? you weren’t eating it.”
“you’re the worst,” dae-ho said, but he was laughing now, the shadows in his eyes receding.
cheol laughed while taking a bite of pork off of dae-ho's plate too.
“eat your greens, cheol,” no-eul said one last time, her voice softer now.
cheol sighed but obeyed.
afterwards the family ate on, together.
masterlist
