Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Soundtrack: Ea Flo by Kim Kyung Hee

Prologue: Inherited Feelings

The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected.

- Nicholas Sparks

::::

Everything felt familiar — the smell of the warm, earthy wood that was dazzled by sweet pots of flowers; the scent of the old, musty interior that has faded with time. For some reason, she could hear the old occupants’ laughs and smiles that haunted the halls, as if reminding her of how it must have been once. It was all eerily familiar. She didn’t know why, but it felt reassuring as it was intimate — like a missing part of her that she has been searching for all along.

‘So you have to remember me.’

And seeing the man in front of her, she felt her throat tighten as a gasp escaped her lips.

“Have we met before?” he said, but one could see his eyes welling up with unshed tears — drinking at the sight of her, desperate and pleading as it searched her for answers.

How does one answer such a question? It felt painful, how every word that escaped from his lips had a kind of stutter in it. She wanted to say yes, but also how could she? She didn’t know him, yet she felt like she did. Her heart told her so.

It was surreal and at the same time absurd, but she knew it to be true. Because she has dedicated her whole life to finding a missing piece even though she didn’t understand how or why — and right now she felt like her heart was gonna burst.

“Why are you crying?” The man asked, his voice laced with worry.

She smiled, wiping her tears away. It looked a little hopeful, a little troubled, and it looked a little sad.

She could feel her lungs constrict at the sound, gentle and reassuring, just like the one in her dreams. She wanted to tell him that she felt like she knew him, but didn’t want to scare him off.

So she stayed silent, unable to utter any word, unable to describe the way her heart thundered in her chest.

The man put his hands in his coat’s pockets and cleared his throat. “I want to buy this house,” he declared, looking at the ceiling of the old shack. “I’ve been going here the last few days, there is something here that continues to drag me back. I don’t know why. I still have to find the owner though, because it’s not for sale.”

Her eyes continued searching him, not uttering a single word. For a moment, he must have thought he looked crazy, a fool. Still, a small chuckle escaped his lips, “you might think I’ve lost my mind saying this, but it just feels familiar.”

The lady snapped out of her thoughts, her breath hitching. “No, no, I understand. I came by here because I received a letter,” she wiped the tears off her face. Her heart was screaming, asking; her thoughts were in turmoil, a plethora of things that just kept welling inside. “I looked around it and it just gives off that feeling.”

Surprised, the man looked at her, scanning her face for answers. “You too?”

“Yes, the letter only included a picture of the house and its address.”

The man nodded. “The first time I entered, it made me feel sad. It felt like I have forgotten something important.”

There was something about her that easily made him open up his thoughts. He looked around, touching the wooden pillar, studying the dust that gathered around his hand with such a pained longing marring his features. “Sorry for being rude,” he sniffed, snapping from his stupor. “I haven’t even asked for your name yet.”

“Seonyoung,” she muttered. “Park Seonyoung.”

‘You looked for me all these years, so next time I will find you.’

A name was many things, but a soul that has been through lifetimes of push and pulls, held memories that went beyond it.

Memories.

Her heart has always been searching high and dry even when her mind couldn’t remember, finding clues with people and mannerisms she couldn’t even understand at first — and dreams that continued to haunt her every passing day. A voice that keeps ringing with a desperate plead for years.

But now, she felt like she knew.

After all, the heart always remembered even when the mind forgot. And the ones who were meant to be together would always find each other — across space and time.

‘Because my whole life is all about finding you,’ rang in her ears. She never understood why such dreams kept occurring, yet they were always so vivid. It felt like her heart was always calling out to something, someone.

“My name is Lee Sungwon. It’s very nice to meet you, Seonyoung-ssi. Do you want to explore the house together?”

The two of them engaged in a comfortable conversation, letting a few words flow every now and then as they roamed around the house. She learned that he was a prosecutor, and he found out that she was an artist.

Their conversations were minimal — a little hesitant, a bit shy.

Then they looked around. Some parts of the house looked well-kept, as if it hasn’t been a few years since someone left it, bar the dust that has settled on a few pieces of furniture and some forgotten rooms. Sung-won already knew this of course. The plants looked taken care of, like someone did come here to water them and keep them alive — the only occupants of the house that gave it color. Hydrangeas and daffodils littered the pots, the colorful flowers giving life outside the empty abode.

A photograph at the far end of the room caught her attention, her eyes fixated on the figures like her whole life depended on it. The man on the far left had a smile that looked so forced, yet his eyes were gentle — as if unsure. She didn’t know the other people with him until she saw the girl with a wide smile that reached her eyes.

She felt her hands shake at the doppelgängers, her mind refusing to believe. This must be a trick right? It shouldn’t be real, should it?

“Have you seen this?” Seonyoung tilted the photograph to his direction, causing Sungwon to purse his lips. His face was unreadable, mouth set to a thin line as he drank the details of the picture, pads of his fingers running through each person. This was some kind of cruel joke, right?

“Don’t they look like … us?”

Chapter Text

Soundtrack: At Last, Sunrise by Maree Docia

I. Hanging by a Thread

"I feel like a part of my soul has loved you since the beginning of everything.

- Emeryn Allen

::::

One. Eyes opened. The room was still dark, yet his gaze lingered on the ceiling.

Two. Same dream. Same sinking feeling. Different day.

Three. The feeling of a warm hug. His forehead creased.

Four. A turmoil of thoughts. A sigh as his left arm shifted to cover his eyes.

Five. Longing.

His eyes opened.

Five. A special number, a desperate attempt to reconcile dreams and his reality. Five years of indescribable emptiness.

Five years since he started settling down in a small town, since he decided to work here. Five years of yearning for something he didn’t even understand.

Lee Sungwon was an ordinary person. As he sighed and stood up to stretch, he had his routine memorized. Get up, eat, brush his teeth, take a bath and get ready for the day. Same pattern, same events.

The world was yours, that’s what they say.

But really, how would one know? Sometimes, Sungwon felt bitter about living — it wasn’t always a flowery road, yeah, but it didn’t have to be this dismal and mechanical as well.

It felt like he was always lacking. A fool.

He had a damn good job, lived life comfortably, and could go places whenever and wherever. And yet life felt like a chore.

With a sigh, he got up to get ready for the day.

Oh, how many sighs has he done now? He should count.

::::

He arrived at the heart of the city a few minutes later. It was a small one — quiet and peaceful, pretty much different from Seoul.

There were no loud noises nor a huge crowd of busybodies that littered the streets, no drunken men yelling their hearts out after bottles of soju. He felt like people here grew up knowing each other in one way or another.

Instead of tall buildings, there were trees and parks. Instead of expensive stores, there were local produce and small stalls of fruits. It was quite liberating to see. Most of all it was peaceful.

And yet there was always something that was lacking.

As he exited the parking lot to attend the exhibit, Sungwon looked forward to this change in his routine. Rarely did anything pique his interest recently, and it was a welcome distraction to his current schedule. His friend, Juwon always teased him that he was such an old soul, but he just enjoyed looking at anything that spurred up some kind of feeling within him.

Emotions were hard to come by when one felt empty.

Sungwon sighed and continued walking, his eyes scanning pieces of art thoroughly. Diligent visitors and enthusiasts alike littered the halls, which surprised him. Art was a vast subject, there were many kinds of it and people learned to express themselves freely over the medium they chose. He envied them and the way that they express themselves. Not everyone could.

Sometimes he felt like a piece made with love or emotion had a soul — its visual appearance spoke a million feelings instead of words.

There were detailed paintings that depicted the life of different people, and abstract woodwork that showcased human emotions through intricate carvings.

This particular gallery was small, but he was mildly impressed at the level of range from the artist and the detail that the pieces have — ranging from paintings that depicted different sceneries like a silhouette in the middle of a field full of spider lilies, to a lone tree that transitions from spring to winter, then a woman mourning. Each stroke of the brush was done with a purpose, giving life to scenes that felt eerily familiar.

The artworks were all about a common theme. There were even a few wood-works that reflected the flare of ruby when hit by light.

And out of the corner of his eye, was a series of sculptures made of granite and alabaster stone — a woman holding a half-moon weapon; a pair of people facing each other in a meadow surrounded by an overgrown field; one jagged mountain that was divided into four seasons. He was quite impressed with the small details — from the symbols etched on woodwork and stone in the former to the distribution of the flora and fauna and the state of the river in the latter work.

And at the end of the pieces was a cave.

It looked hauntingly similar to the vision he saw regularly — a familiar pear-shaped entrance, where you could see the boundary between light and dark. Upon seeing the work, it was almost as if Sungwon was back in the limestone cave, tasting the musty air as the wind whispered amongst the stone — a gossip unbeknownst to time, as moss clung unto the entrance until it disappeared.

How could one make such a detailed piece so eerily similar to that of his dream? He looked around, skin tingling. This was his frequent companion, he could even say he grew up with it. At times he was at the mouth of the cave, looking at the sight of the same oddly-shaped lamps that littered its vicinity. Windflowers were scattered at the entrance, blanketing the uneven path going inside the cave. He could almost hear the water dripping, it made him feel dizzy.

With such purpose, he looked at the cave one last time, memorizing lines and letters. It looked real, maybe it was real. There was no way a cave this intricate could have been carved and likened to the one in his dream like this. Was it a coincidence? Was it fate?

He scampered around the exhibit with renewed purpose — one that he didn’t have during the last few years.

“Excuse me miss,” he asked the intern located at the main counter. “May I know if the artist of  the current gallery is here?”

“Miss Park? She was about to leave a few minutes ago,” the intern responded, looking around. “There,” she pointed outside, “the woman in the gray suit.”

True enough, a woman was walking towards the vast parking lot out of the exhibit, talking with two other men as they walked further away.

“Thank you,” Sungwon bowed to the woman and scurried out, determined to catch her. His mind was running through a flurry of thoughts, heart pounding wildly against his chest.

But just as he was about to exit, his phone vibrated. Sungwon frowned upon seeing the name. “What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Finally,” the caller exhaled a breath he was holding, relief palpable in his voice. “Pls save me.”

“What did you do this time?” Sungwon asked, his attention solely on the direction where the woman went.

“I didn’t do anything,” was the sheepish response. “I just came to work and he was already beating my ass.”

“I swear to god Juwon if I miss this opportunity you’re gonna be dead meat.” Sungwon cursed, his steps becoming rapid and more determined. He was able to spot the speck of color a few meters away, stopping by a car.

“Please, I am in desperate need of your help this time,” the person on the phone begged. “I’m in a really deep shit.”

Sungwon only grunted as he started running towards the car. His actions were desperate, his brain pleading for him to reach her on time.

But try as he might, the car already drove away before he could reach her, depriving him of answers to the question that continued to plague his life.

Try as he might, his frustration kept welling up until he could feel himself heaving as the pain started erupting in his chest and threatened to overwhelm his senses. Again.

What bad timing.

He wanted to throw the phone toward the wall. “Bastard.”

::::

“Ya, Sungwon-ah,” hollered Juwon. “Why are you angry at me?” The older man waited for him to get out of his car before putting his arm on the other’s shoulder.

“Don’t act all chummy, I’m not in the mood,” Sungwon snapped. “You smell like alcohol again, have you been drinking?” The man looked at Juwon, disgusted. For what was worth, he didn’t really know why they were friends.

“I only had a little drink,” the older man answered smugly as the two of them began walking towards the building.

“Thanks to you, I wasn’t able to talk to someone important. By the way, you should lay off that alcohol, else I will stop helping you.” He looked at Juwon dead in the eyes. “I mean it.”

Most of the time, he wondered why he even try. Juwon seemed intent not to meet his gaze, eyes glued to the ground. “Here, look into this and let me know where I can find the studio.”

Sungwon just looked at him coldly as he handed him a business card. As Juwon was about to give him a rebuttal, both of them entered the police station, nodding polite greetings to familiar faces. “I’ll get the documents I asked for and then I will go once I talked to the chief. This will be the last time I will save your ass,” Sungwon replied as a matter of factly.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Juwon responded incredulously.

“He probably could smell alcohol from miles away.” As they arrived in the shared office, Sungwon took a seat and put his glasses on.

“Right. You win, I’ll tone down the alcohol for as long as you speak to him,” he sulked.

Sungwon just looked at him and sighed. He was getting tired of cleaning up after this mess of a human being. To say that their relationship was dysfunctional was an understatement, to be honest. They looked like a bickering couple whenever one stumbled upon them — always arguing, complete opposites. An odd pair.

Whereas Sungwon was passive, Juwon was chaos. But one could say Juwon couldn’t live without Sungwon — even if he didn’t care to admit it.

As much as he wanted to though, there was something about Juwon that made him inclined to help out; he was not sure if it was because of Juwon’s predicament or maybe he was just that crazy.

Sungwon shook his head and scanned through the documents, writing down important details and jotting notes as the former turned his back on him in silence.

For a few minutes, only the scribble of the pen over paper was heard in the room — Sungwon’s eyes were fixed on the documents at hand. Sometimes, Juwon would hear him mumbling words — probably connecting dots.

“Why are you so obsessed with this case?” Juwon asked.

“We’re up against a big name. I don’t think the suspect will go down that easily. The father will protect him.”

“You’re right, but still. I’ve never seen you spend so much time on something. You just usually know what to do,” Juwon admitted, snatching part of the report.

“It’s not all the time that we see a big fish swimming back to us,” Sungwon stood up, clearing the table. Juwon grinned as he handed Sungwon the papers he took, unceremoniously sitting at the table beside him. “Forgot to give you this.”

He handed Sungwon a small envelope. As the younger man inspected it, he couldn’t help but frown at the lack of details. “Juwon, you just accepted a letter with no recipient?”

“Hey, I was already doing you a favor handing you that.” Sungwon sighed in defeat, giving Juwon a stink-eye as he opened the aforementioned letter.

Right before his eyes stood a picture of a house. It looked beaten and battered — its walls withstanding the test of time. Vines crept up on the mossy walls and the wooden veranda was filled with overgrown shrubs.

It looked worn out — like a human who has aged and just waiting for its time to pass. Like something which has achieved its purpose and just waiting for the time it crumbled into dust.

Something about it stirred up feelings within him. It felt like coming home to a warm place after a hard day’s work, or the welcoming arms of a mother to a child. He could feel butterflies in the pit of his stomach and for a moment, he thought he stopped breathing as time stood still.

::::

Chapter Text

Soundtrack: The Wind Sings by Goldmund

II. Weight of the World

I don't know how you are so familiar to me - or why it feels less like I am getting to know you and more as though I am remembering who you are.
How every smile, every whisper brings me closer to the impossible conclusion that I have known you before, I have loved you before - in another time, a different place, some other existence.

- Lang Leav

::::

1000 years ago.

Emotion was a funny thing.

He never quite understood it nor its purpose. One minute, there may be smiles and laughter; but in another, there could be tears or anger.

It was quite confusing, navigating through such a paradox he didn’t care about.

Because he had her, his other half.

Time might flow and the white blanket of snow may turn into a field of flowers. But because he was with her, he didn’t need anything. He was content with the flow of the world.

All of his life revolved around her — like the sun to the moon, day and night.

Like breathing.

He would wake up with her in his arms, cuddled beside the warmth of the remaining ashes from a loose pile of tinder they gathered the night before.

They would spend the day trekking the mountain, keeping peace within the land as its protectors. And she’d pick up bits and pieces of things she found interesting, sometimes even going to him to show it.

He didn’t care about anything else so he didn’t understand her. All that matters was that he had her.

All he cared about was her smile — the way her eyes lit up as they explored a meadow full of tulips; the way she cared for the creatures around her; the way she waltzed through an open field under the light of the sun, her own happiness resounding through his heart.

She was his sun, bringing him light. Just like he was her moon, her warmth in the dark. And the stars lay witness to their story.

His eyes were always on her.

And at times he would ponder why an immortal deity such as her held so much emotion in her eyes that one could tell what she was feeling by just looking at them — like how she looked at the flowers with such a gentle adoration and glow. It never ceased to amaze him.

And so he looked at the colorful blossoms himself and wondered what was so special about them, picking one by the stem and going in her direction.

She looked at him brightly, eyes glistening and mouth curving upward until it revealed perfect white teeth. And he thought it was beautiful — always the most beautiful thing he saw.

‘You like flowers a lot,’ he stated, watching as she admired the yellow tulip. ‘There are many of it here that you can pick to your heart’s desire.’

‘But this is from you. I like that you gave one to me,’ she countered, holding the object close to her heart.

‘If that is the case, then we should visit more gardens so I can give you more of these.’

She smiled — a smile that reached her eyes, a smile that stayed during the duration of their walk through the garden. And even when they slept, she kept his gift close, always holding it, not even bothering to let it go.

And he didn’t understand it but accepted it graciously.

And at times during their many wanderings, she would reach out her hand to him and give him a smile, it made him feel warm on the inside. He didn’t need to take it and quietly followed her until he was beside her. And they exchanged a knowing glance — fully convinced they would always be together, assured they would always have each other.

He didn’t smile, didn’t really know how to. But he knew that he felt comfort.

It made him wonder if it was happiness that he felt when she smiled at him like he was her world. Or if it was an emotion when his heart dropped as she refused to throw away the flower even after it withered.

He pondered if he should keep giving her things that she liked. Because for him, it was everything. She made him feel, she was his purpose.

Even if he didn’t understand much of it.

He had nothing but her. He was content just being with her. She was his everything.

Time passed. The moon and the sun kept on turning but never met in the shared sky. And like the flower, he also wilted.

In the darkness of their home, he waited for her to return. Without her, he felt the cold. Without her, he felt something simmering in the pit of his stomach.

For the first time in his life, he felt an extreme turmoil inside his heart — an unknown feeling that threatened to overwhelm his calm as he waited inside the dark, lonesome abode. It screamed at him — it clawed his insides, threatening to escape.

It burned him.

There was no more smile nor gentle eyes. No more colors nor flowers left. All that was left was the unforgiving cold and darkness that enveloped everything in its wake.

She was his everything, but he wasn’t hers.

That was his first heartbreak. Or maybe, it was his first wrath.

::::

The first time Sungwon saw the house from the letter, he felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

The run-down abode still looked quaint, the morning breeze wafting through the air as the sweet aroma of pink hydrangeas passed through him, welcoming him.

As he entered inside, the door creaked and an old clock kept him company — its ticking keeping the time in a place that was no longer alive. The walls were bare and the area was dim, devoid of life. Old pieces of cloth kept the sun from shining from the inside, tattered and ragged. Yet as he entered inside, he felt his breathing was a little deeper and his mind a bit calmer.

The house was bare, forlorn, without a breath. Its days were empty and forgotten, its life as lost and gone as the ones who lived in it.

Yet as he closed his eyes, the story felt different.

Once upon a time, a song filled the decrepit halls — it spoke of victories and heartbreaks, of tears and joyous screams. It spoke of struggles and accomplishments, of warmth and love.

Once upon a time, the house bore witness to a kaleidoscope of memories etched through photographs, through the walls, through the very earth it was on.

He knew that this house was someone's home, someone’s treasure, someone’s safe place before. And although it was now empty, the warmth and memories in the place remain through the scattered pots of plants that thrived from the racks; old books neatly piled over the shelves; vintage furniture that had dust sprinkled all over, but the only indication of the years of service was the faded color of the wood. A few scattered belongings were on the table, as well as faded clothes that were neatly piled on a chair.

For some reason, he felt a strange attachment to the place — like a moth to a flame.

He wandered through its halls, taking in everything he saw. The stairs creaked a little as he climbed up, looking at scattered picture frames that decorated the walls. The first room he opened had two beds — dusty and faded but otherwise untouched by time. The drawer was a little crooked, a small piece of paper peeking through it. The room was small, but it felt intimate and welcoming.

The room in front of it though felt a little sad, kind of lonely. As he opened the door, it lay bare for the world to see — very different from the welcoming atmosphere of the other rooms. The air was a little chilly, the musty smell of old wood and leather mingling together.

A folding bed stood in the corner, tattered and worn out. A rocking chair was beside it, facing what looked like a wooden wall. A pile of clothes was stacked neatly on the said chair, most of it black with a slew of snowy dust.

Things were scattered around the room — old phones with dizzying cables, a steel rack that held various tools, and old electronics.

For some reason, he was becoming increasingly curious about why the letter was sent to him; and how come the house made him feel tingly and sad? It felt nostalgic that every time he closed his eyes to inhale the earthy scent, he would feel a pull — not quite enough to make him see old memories, but powerful enough to make him feel their existence.

Briefly, he opened the window, the panels shrieking at the notion. His eyes were immediately hit by the sunlight, and for a moment he thought he saw a few people exiting a car.

But the image quickly left as soon as it came. He took his phone from where it rested in his pocket and dialed a few numbers.

::::

A few days later, Lee Sungwon was back in the old house. His mind was still filled with a whirlwind of emotions.

And she was there.

The first time he saw her, he felt a sense of familiarity and warmth akin to meeting an old friend, or a loved one that one hasn’t seen in a few years.

The first time he saw her, her eyes sparkled like the stars in the sky — they were a constellation of feelings, a myriad of thoughts. His hands were clammy, his lungs constricted and his eyes, mesmerized.

There was something about her that enthralled him — maybe it was her eyes, beautiful hazel eyes that sparked so much fire in them, or the way she carried herself; maybe it was the way she fretted when he got injured, or maybe she was just a person who made him feel.

Or maybe, it was her warmth.

“Have we met before?” he asked, his eyes searching for answers by reading hers, desperate and pleading. He wanted to know who she was and why she was here, wanted to know how come he felt this certain pull — misplaced feelings, a tide of thoughts akin to that of a reunion.

Meeting her made him feel like he was forgetting something important — the well of emotions within threatening to escape and overflow. And for some reason, he wanted to know why.

But the lady just stared at him, silent tears flowing through her porcelain skin. He felt many and all emotions at the same time — panic and also pain.

“Why are you crying?” Sungwon asked, his voice laced with worry. He wanted to wipe her tears away.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to frighten her nor push her away.

Before he knew it, she smiled. It looked a little hopeful, a little troubled, and it looked a little sad. But he thought it was the most beautiful thing he saw.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack: Peaceful Sleep by Keiichi Okabe (instrumental by Daigoro)

III. Carving One’s Heart

Human relationships are chemical reactions. If you have a reaction then you can never return back to your previous state of being.

- Ishida Sui

::::

54 years ago.

Twenty-four.

That was the age that Min Sangwoon accepted her fate.

Memories were a fickle thing, she thought. Most of the time, the things she tried so hard to forget would keep reappearing in her mind — nightmares that had a stronghold in her heart. It held her in a vice-grip, ever so suffocating. She’d grapple as if her life depended on it, but most of the time, she’d succumb to it like a helpless fool.

All the guilt still weighed on her, years later. And every time she’d close her eyes, it brought her back to the time when she felt like someone pierced her lungs; a time when hot coal burned through her stomach as closed eyes made senses keener, as the crimson red liquid trickled down slowly. Shaking horribly, alone in a dark, enclosed space.

The one who survived, yet one that didn’t.

Whenever she dreamt of those days, she would feel the cracks in her heart grow a little further — slow enough that it was torturous, but big enough to make her feel the brevity of it.

The only thing that kept her alive? Revenge.

It was like a slow-growing sickness that plagued her mind and soul. It gnawed her innards and encapsulated her brain. An obsession so severe that it rattled and stirred her into a frenzy.

Revenge was her motivation. Her medicine.

But also, her sickness.

It was funny that the memories she wanted to relive and dance with never resurfaced willingly, she had to consciously recall them. Pictures of Sangyeon, Siho, and their mom at the park with huge smiles on their faces; her mother hugging all of them as the three girls waved a victory sign — at times she’d look at pictures to remember what had been while writing her feelings in a small, tattered notebook.

Sometimes she felt that just one day of not remembering would make her forget the way their eyes shined, the smile on their lips, their voices, laughs, and most of all their warmth.

She wanted to make sure their existence stayed with her.

When she closed her eyes, she was brought back to Si-ho’s excited laughter as Sangyeon chased her, to her mother telling them to be careful while chuckling at their antics.

She could still remember the carnival of scents that littered the air as strands of light enveloped the sky. Birds flocked the trees in a choir of chirps and hums, joining the happy whistle of the air. The cool breeze that was mixed with morning dew filled her senses, her skin prickling at the touch.

Laughter and chatter filled the air under a great big oak — littered with the people she loved.

They would call out to her and she would run to them with a huge smile on her face — with no restraints nor shackles that bound her to a nightmare.

She had to recall this to even remember that once upon a time, she had a family and the warmth of a home.

Once upon a time, she lived a normal life that wasn’t tainted in blood.

It felt like yesterday.

With a sigh, she kept on writing in her journal, ticking in small check-boxes in defeat. How many more museums, weapon shops, and antique stores should she visit? How long could they still hide? How much more did she have to trudge through?

She knew life would soon acquiesce her to do her role in the story, even though she had been nothing short of a coward whom people died for.

But try as she might, her memory kept on laughing at her. It played tricks on her — refusing to remember important details even as it spun her around and showed the worst moments of her life countless times, it shouted for her to remember and yet drowned her in sorrow as it kept repeating the same screams that haunted her every waking moment.

It suffocated her.

She trudged on though, her back carrying the will of the dead and the burden that came with it. The story wasn’t done yet. There was still so much to do, empty pages of the journal to fill. And she didn’t know if the story would end in a happy ending or tragedy.

But she had Siho, so if she had to force a happy ending, she would. If this would mean that her sister would live a happy life, a normal life, then she was willing to sacrifice everything — including herself.

Maybe, just like her older sister, this would be her last chance.

“Unnie?” Siho called out. Her sweet sister knew nothing of the horrors they had to endure, her sister who had been nothing but kind and understanding.

Sangwoon knew she needed to keep safe.

“Oh, Siho-yah, what is it?” She smiled, closing the journal and acting like her heart wasn’t being crushed by a boulder.

“I’m just worried, you ok?” Her brows were furrowed, hands reaching out to Sangwoon and rubbing small circles. “You’ve been staring at the notebook for a few minutes now.”

“Y-yeah, I was just in deep thought.” A lie. Another nervous chuckle.

She knew that one day, Siho would catch up on these lies and excuses. “I was just thinking about Sangyeon-unnie and Eomma. I miss them a lot.”

Siho sat down beside her and enveloped her in a hug. “I miss them too.” They were never the affectionate type that it surprised Sangwoon, but maybe this was one of those days that Siho would read her like an open book and know. “But you’re not blaming yourself again, are you?”

Sangwoon shook her head. “I was trying to recall what Unnie asked of me.”

Another one.

Another act, another day of her pretending that she wasn’t the cause of this tragedy.

“You know, when we were children, Eomma often told me to be like Sangyeon-unnie.” Siho broke the hug, her eyes fixed on the hands that lay on her lap. Sangwoon listened intently. “She said to follow her example and study well, and that she wishes you do the same.”

The sisters chuckled, remembering how Sangwoon would always get the scolding whenever school was involved. “But as we grew older, I realized that I want to be more like you.”

Siho always had this deep admiration towards Sangwoon — one that just grew bigger as they age. Because despite the hurt, Sangwoon always smiled at her.

A smile of reassurance that often didn’t reach her eyes, a smile she always used to mask the pain that plagued her.

“Unnie, maybe we should move on,” Siho pleaded. “It’s been a long time.”

She wanted them to let go of the tragedy — move forward. She wanted Sangwoon to be happy, for both of them to be.

“I know, but I made a promise to Sangyeon-unnie —“

“Unnie is dead.” Pain welled up in Siho’s eyes, and yet they stood tall against Sangwoon’s. “I can’t stand seeing you like this. And it pains me whenever we have to move and you’d always lose sleep in jobs just for us to survive.”

Siho caressed her sister’s cheek — every stroke sending Sangwoon warmth, but not warm enough to reconsider her choices. “We have to live too.”

The world was crueler in reminding her of what she lost and what she could lose. Sangwoon leaned into Siho and pulled her close, foreheads touching. “But I can’t lose you.”

::::

“Oh, are you looking for Seonyeong? She’s not here yet,” a kind lady responded. “If you want you can look around and wait for her here, she probably will arrive soon.”

Lee Sungwon nodded his thanks as the intern left, bringing with her a tray of used paint brushes and smeared glasses. He ran his hand through the table, noting how clean it was despite the room being used for sculpting.

Some vines littered near the window, the sun giving a vibrant yellow in contrast to the stones and their gray. The white wall highlighted the artwork and made the studio look clean. A few instruments were scattered near an unfinished work, a stark contrast to how well organized the other tools looked from the shed.

His eyes scanned the room, full of paintings and different kinds of artworks ranging from marble to wood.

Abstract pieces were carved from wood — beautiful pieces in various shapes — some shaped like a fire that held a ruby in the center, another, a flower that held a butterfly at the helm. He admired how intricate the pieces look, the carvings from the flames and the petals telling a story of their own.

Paintings also littered the walls, mostly of impressive scenes and nature — like a meadow filled with spider lilies or the sun’s light filtering through the trees. It was like cinematography painted on a canvas of one who wanted to imprint breathtaking scenes so they would never be forgotten.

And in the far end of the room, stood the sculptures made of various stones. There were figurines and carvings, the latter giving life to events engraved in its soul, like a series of scenes.

He recognized a few pieces he saw at the exhibit that day and realized that he was correct in his assumption.

Still, he could feel nervousness creeping in. There was something about the woman that drew him to her. It made him awkward, but also curious.

“Unnie’s sculptures are impressive huh?”

Sungwon snapped out of his reverie, looking in the direction of the voice. He saw the same woman enter the room, this time, without the tray. “I was amazed at the range of her work.”

“She said that she became an artist because she wanted to carve every memory and detail that her heart shows her. It’s honestly amazing.”

Sungwon nodded, remembering what was written in the artist’s profile during the exhibit. “How long has she been making these?” He asked.

“Since she was young,” the intern responded proudly. “She spends most of her time in the studio, to be honest, that’s why I get amazed when she goes out and mingle with humans.”

Lee Sungwon chuckled. “Her work feels warm,” he said, hand reaching out towards the statue in the middle of the room, knowing that Seonyeong dedicated herself to making a living depiction of these scenes. “Looking at them feels like you know them when in fact, you don’t know anything at all.”

“Honestly that’s what makes them click, but Seonyeong-unnie doesn’t even want to consider selling. Most of her works go to exhibit for viewing.”

Lee Sungwon already knew that the artist he was searching for was her — the woman he saw in the house. To say he was surprised was an understatement, it felt like the world was moving in its own volition. If Juwon didn’t make him remember, he would have forgotten about it.

Strange how life worked.

Still, he couldn’t help but be drawn to her.

Something was mesmerizing her eyes, they say a million things and nothing at once. For some reason, it was also easy to talk to her.

But who was she really? And what was their relationship?

::::

She hurried down the first-floor corridor, passing by the many doors on either side of her as she went through the familiar steps leading to work. Her shoes making loud clacking noises with each step, her mind preoccupied with unwelcome thoughts.

It seemed of late that the only thing she'd been doing was paperwork and more paperwork. Little excursions like this one were the only way to ensure her sanity; and she'd been looking forward to retreating to her studio, her soul, the reason for her existence.

The plan had been for her to be the one to slip into the office and leave the finished work behind, retreat into the solitude of her studio, and be lost with the sound of a hammer hitting stone.

After last's night vivid dreams of her standing in what looked like a forest, she felt despair radiating through her body, perpetuated by piercing screams so loud, that they sent shivers down her spine.

It occupied her waking thoughts.

The agonizing, excruciating pain that she had never felt before radiated throughout her — spreading in every direction. Every inch of her burnt in exquisite torture.

And it was difficult to reconcile the sound with the fact that her mouth was open and her vocal cords were filled with thorns.

It was hers.

It felt so real that when she woke up, she was covered with beads of sweat and hot tears continued rolling down her eyes.

She enjoyed sleep, but lately, she felt like sleep just warped her into another dimension so vivid it felt like it was real. She was restless, if not confused and overwhelmed.

With a sigh, she slapped both of her cheeks, willing herself to snap out of her funk. She needed to get ready for this day of the week which she looked forward to the most.

::::

She arrived in her studio not an hour later, greeting the intern with a bright smile on her face.

Her plan was a huge success, and it gave her an immense sense of relief. But as soon as she opened the door to her studio, she saw him again. And it made her stop in her tracks.

Completely.

It wasn’t because she didn’t want him here, it was just he didn’t expect to find him inside her studio, looking at her work.

In her world.

Time stopped. And she was transported back into the house — during their very first meeting. She could remember the feeling of longing in her heart, the feeling of familiarity.

Her heart told her she knew him and yet by a stroke of luck, she couldn’t remember. Still, vivid images of a man from her dreams ran rampant on her head — of golden eyes and a sad smile, of a carefree chuckle interrupted in between someone’s hands.

“Hello, Seonyeong-ssi. You have a wonderful studio.” Sungwon bowed in greeting, kicking himself internally with his choice of words. It made Seonyeong snap out of her daze. “I hope you are feeling much better now.”

He smiled at her. The first time he met her, his thoughts were a well of emotions — he couldn’t speak properly, throat parched and mouth agape. He didn’t know if it was the place or her, but his heart thumped so loud that it felt like it was going to burst.

On this second meeting, he still felt the same thing — his heart still beat rapidly against his chest, and his breathing was erratic. And his stomach was filled with an unknown sensation — a bit fluttery, a bit nervous.

There was uncomfortable silence surrounding the air as their eyes met again. Her eyes were always searching his, as if looking for answers that only he could provide.

Yet she didn’t speak. She couldn’t find any words to describe what she was feeling. And it took a while but eventually, she smiled back. “Uh, yeah, I am,” she grinned. “Thank you very much for worrying about me. What brings you here Sungwon-ssi? And has your wound healed?”

She remembered his name.

And he didn’t know why but it made him release a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

His eyes trailed her movements as she finally moved and placed her belongings on the table adjacent. “I’m doing well. I was actually looking for the artist from the exhibit that I went to last week. And it led me here.”

“Do you two somehow know each other?” The intern asked, raising her eyebrows.

Seonyeong didn’t know what to say and stared at him, as if pleading for him to answer.

“We met before when I visited a house I wanted to buy.” His eyes didn’t leave hers, couldn’t hide his curiosity.

“Yes, Sungwon-ssi kindly helped me avoid an accident when I almost fell down the stairs,” Seonyeong nodded.

“Oh, you’re the —“

“Can you fetch us some coffee, Eunji-yah?” Seonyeong choked on her words, earning a surprised look from the intern.

The girl, Eunji looked at Seonyeong cheekily, her eyes shining with mischief. “I see. Don’t act too suspicious.” Slowly, Eunji left the room, mumbling about her boss.

Sungwon could see Eunji stomping her feet lightly as she moved further, earning a chuckle from him until Seonyeong brought him back with the sound of her voice.

Flabbergasted, Seonyeong facepalmed, her cheeks turning into a reddish tint. “I’m sorry about this.”

She let out a breath she held and went walked towards him, relieved. “I’m surprised to find you here.”

“Well I was gonna contact you about the house eventually, but yeah, I was honestly surprised that you are also the artist I was looking for from the exhibit.”

Her eyes lit up. “You were looking for me?”

Sungwon raised his head slightly. “A few weeks ago, I went to your exhibit and a particular piece of art caught my attention.”

“Really? Which was it?” Her eyes gleamed with curiosity that Sungwon couldn’t help but stare back. He was surprised at how quickly her mood changed.

“Solace,” he responded plainly.

“Oh, the cave,” Seonyeong bobbed her head, pressing her lips into a thin line. “Quite a few people get curious about that one.”

“I tried to talk to you, but you drove away before I can even ask,” Sungwon recalled. “I wanted to ask if the cave existed, and if it didn’t, I wanted to know what made you carve it.”

His question came as a surprise to her. The cave was one of her recurring dreams; one of the earliest ones. Yet she felt inclined to share —something she usually never did, often masking the real story behind the work. She signaled for him to follow her and both of them left the room.

She opened up the door to the room adjacent and there, Sungwon saw the familiar pieces that sparked his interest during his time in the exhibit. She stopped by the piece in question, her eyes once again losing themselves.

But this time, it was to endearment.

“I saw that cave a few times in my dreams.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. There was a gentle tone to it, similar to how a mother would talk about her child “The images were vivid and felt so real, so one day I just started carving using what I can recall from it,” she told him, walking towards the piece of art.

There was a faint smile on her face, evident in the way her lips tipped upward and the way her eyes stared with warmth and adoration.

“Whenever I think about the cave, I feel a deep sense of sadness and longing. But I also think of a time where it gave shelter and warmth to those who needed it.”

“I saw the exact cave in my dreams as well,” he revealed. His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. And for the first time in his life, Sungwon finally allowed himself to share his innermost secret. “And as you said, it held the same feeling for me. But mostly, it felt like a mechanical dream because it is the only thing I see whenever I close my eyes.”

Seonyeong looked at him, concern visible in her eyes. “Really?”

“I don’t know. But it happens frequently. I would often dream about being inside the cave and waiting. Sometimes I’d see myself near the entrance, more often than not, I was inside of it. And I’d feel the same thing, a sense of overwhelming sadness and longing. And in a few times, anger.”

“Strange,” she mulled.

“And I feel like all of this is connected and there was a reason why I met you,” he declared. “I feel like I know you, yet I don’t. And I want to know why I feel this way.”

He looked at her and noticed her perplexed stare. If he could only read her thoughts, he wanted to know what she was thinking and why she stared at him like that.

That he was drawn to her, he couldn’t say, afraid it would scare her off.

For a split second, their eyes met until she snapped out of her trance, her cheeks turning red from embarrassment. Panicked, she turned around and looked at the table.

“The house.. did you find out who it belongs to?” A nervous laugh escaped from her lips as Seonyeong pulled up a chair and graciously offered one to Sungwon, which the latter accepted with thanks.

“It’s a long story. And yes, but I haven’t had the chance to look at it. I figured we can do it together. The papers are with me.”

He lifted his satchel and fetched a brown envelope and handed a part of it to her. He already knew the summary of the reports, although he hadn’t looked at the documents themselves.

“The house was named to a certain Park Huicheol. That title was transferred to someone called Nam Doyoon and a woman named Min Siho 50 years ago.”

“Sungwon-ssi, he looks a lot like you.” She held up the document in her hand, comparing the picture and Sungwon’s features.

His eyebrows creased, heart hammering wildly inside his chest. First, there was the picture frame and now this. The same person perhaps?

But how?

“Do you think this is the man from the picture frame? But how come he looked so young? The document stated that he owned the house back in 1988.”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t make sense to me. But Park Huicheol is probably dead because the ownership was transferred to a certain Min Siho and Nam Doyoon using his will,” Sungwon explained, sharing the documents with Seonyeong.

“According to my friend, Nam Doyoon relinquished the rights to the property and gave it to Min Siho, because the same Park Huicheol wanted them to choose which property they want for themselves.”

“He must be very rich,” Seonyeong read through the will, mouth agape. “He gave them cars, gold, and even money.”

“Yes. There was not much information about Park Huicheol’s past besides his wealth, but I found out where Min Siho is staying. She also has a daughter named Min Seo.”

“Do you think we should ask her?” Seonyeong was hesitant, but she wanted to know why someone looked like her — she was a replica, starting from the brows, lips, eyes — everything about Min Sangwoon made her body scream with curiosity.

And she could say the same about Park Huicheol and Lee Sungwon.

Maybe, just maybe, she was the answer to why she kept on dreaming about events that were vivid but didn’t make sense to her.

“Yes, we can. If I am not mistaken, Miss Min was the one who took the picture that we saw from the house. The blonde beside her was Nam Doyoon.”

Sungwon hesitated, sighing. “And it was her sister, Min Sangwoon, who looks like you. According to the reports, both Min Sangwoon and Park Huicheol were wrongfully accused of murder 50 years ago. For some reason, both of them vanished days after, presumably dead.”

“But why?” She whispered. Why did both of them die? Why were they accused? What was her and Sungwon’s relation to them?

So many questions that she was burning to know, making her dizzy.

“I don’t know, Seonyeong-ssi, but I am sure they hold the answer to our endless stream of questions. I want to know how I am related to Park Huicheol.”

Seonyeong nodded, her eyes glued to the words in front of her. “So we need to visit Miss Min Siho to find answers.”

“Yes.” Sungwon ran a hand through his hair, his mind filled with questions. It all didn’t make sense to him.

Seonyeong felt like her chest was going to burst. Her head was throbbing, breathing erratic. “Everything looks absurd right now.”

The air was thick with worry and questions unanswered, leaving both of them to retreat in their thoughts. The heart of a studio forgotten.

Chapter Text

Soundtrack: The Place Where Wishes Come True from Clannad Afterstory, instrumental by Kenzie Smith

IV. Grief the Unspoken

"But what is grief if not love persevering?"

- Vision, Wandavision

::::

58 years ago.

The girl was sulking.

Every day was the same — same events, same problems, same boredom.

School kept her occupied, but going home had always been a chore. It wasn’t that she loathed going home, she just felt so alone.

She sighed, hands clinging to her bag straps tightly. She hoped today was different.

But meh, she knew it would be the same.

She wasn’t a standout in school — mostly a no one whom everyone doesn’t bother but didn’t ignore either, but she was no pushover. If bullies tried to take her on they would all land in the Guidance Office or get suspended with her. She experienced it first hand.

The girl sped up her pace and crossed the road, nearing the new apartment they rented just a few months ago.

Expelling a breath again, her shoulder slumped and she opened the countless locks to their unit’s door.

The hinges creaked, the only sound that welcomed her home. Darkness spilled through every nook and cranny of the empty home, threatening to eat her alive until she turned on the lights and it retreated.

She removed her shoes and placed them neatly in a corner, using the walls as a form of support. And then she entered the house and finally closed the door.

It wasn’t much, just a single bedroom apartment that was enough to house both her and her older sister, but she was glad for it nonetheless.

Her backpack lay abandoned in the dining area, hurried feet rushing inside the bedroom for a change of clothes. Briefly, she stopped by the old television just to have some sort of noise accompany her before fishing out what she needed.

Sometimes, she wondered if it was always gonna be like this.

As she entered the shower and closed her eyes, she tried hard not to think of a life she could’ve had and just drowned herself in the noise.

Their lives weren’t normal by any standards. She didn’t know of people moving around every year — sometimes even less, antsy that someone would find them.

She didn’t know of classmates who had seen a wide variety of schools and places in a short time, or of someone who had a sister who quit school and worked almost 18 hours a day.

She didn’t know of anyone who lost their loved ones to a murderous stride that couldn’t be solved.

Lastly, she didn’t know of anyone who could see the past just with a touch.

And at times she’d feel crazy because she didn’t belong.

A voice called her out, interrupting her train of thoughts. The girl turned off the shower-head and haphazardly put on her clothes and dried her hair, little droplets of water falling all over the bathroom floor.

And when she thought she was ready, she hurried up and greeted the one constant in her life.

“Siho-yah, sorry I was late,” was her response. She was out of breath, clothes tattered and worn out, hair in a messy bun.

Min Siho didn’t have many things, yet her greatest treasure was the woman in front of her. They may fight and argue a lot and her life may not be normal.

But it was her dearest wish to spend time with her, to go home with her sister waiting for her so that they can talk of stories about their day or just eat out together.

She understood it was hard, and that life was hard, and that her wishes often didn’t come true. But more often than not, she was content to have her on days just like this one.

And when Min Sangwoon saw her, she produced the biggest smile while proudly holding a small cake for her to see. Her eyes looked tired and the bags under them looked a little darker, but they were shining for her.

It was her birthday, and Sangwoon didn’t forget even though she was a bit late to come home.

For the first time, she felt like her wish was granted. It wasn’t what she wanted, but definitely what she needed.

The girl managed to give her older sister a big grin, her eyes bright. She ran towards her and gave her the biggest hug.

Life wasn’t perfect but she had her. And it was enough.

For now.

::::

“Unnie?” Her voice was quizzical, her lower lip trembling so bad as water began to pool from her eyes. First, she stood, and then she walked slowly, staring in disbelief.

Never in a million years did she imagine that she would see her again — not because of lost hope, but because she resigned to the notion that maybe this lifetime already had its share of their strings, that she would meet them again under a new age.

Briefly, she was brought back to the time when they were younger — back to the time when she waited for her to come home every after work hours, waiting excitedly at the dinner table and gazing at the door every few seconds.

A kind smile would greet her as the door opened, which would widen into a grin as a set of pearly whites revealed themselves. And her eyes, her eyes had a smile that dulled other senses. She was young again, bathed by the warmth of her sister’s embrace.

It had been a long time, and yet the feelings stayed the same.

“Unnie, it’s you.” Warm, hazel eyes were wide with wonder, shining with constellations that just resurfaced after years and years of hiding. Siho’s hand traveled to touch Seonyeong, slowly, tentatively, until skins touched and warmth spread all around — forgetting the chilly memories of that day that the older woman always seem to recall.

The pads of her fingers ran from Seonyeong’s cheek to the side of her face. It felt like a dream.

The woman’s mouth was agape, a whimper finally escaping from her cumbersome throat. It began with one and she tried to hold it, then two, and then a sob.

She kept her lips together, the broken noise wracking her body. Seonyeong didn’t move, didn’t seem to notice the other people in the room — eyes fixated, heart shattered at the sight of Min Siho collapsing all her walls in front of her.

Her arms slowly wrapped at the older one in an embrace, her own eyes dissolving into tears. Her scent felt nostalgic — lavender mixed with baby blue, and she couldn’t help but feel broken at the sound of her sobs.

It didn’t take a while for Siho to break their hold as both of her hands caressed Seonyeong’s face, wiping tears between muffled sobs. “We kept our promise,” she whispered.

Siho gestured towards Doyoon, at the old man sitting on her bed, eyes wide and mouth agape.

Seonyeong held her gently, letting her speak her happiness even if she didn’t understand. She didn’t want to break the heart of a woman whose face now looked younger beyond her years.

The hands of time trickled, be it slow or fast they didn’t care, the only sound that could be heard was a series of breaths, a few muffled sobs, and the rustling of clothes that shifted with their movements — all four of them reuniting in a different piece of a world that already moved forward.

“Hello Min Siho-ssi,” greeted a familiar voice that she hadn’t heard in far too long. Immediately, her eyes started to water again as her gaze strayed away from the sister she didn’t want to let go of.

“Hello Min Siho-ssi,” he repeated. “I am Lee Sungwon.” There was no cognizance in this familiar set of eyes, even though the warmth stayed the same.

And that’s when it occurred to her.

Seongyeon didn’t know why, but she felt her heartbreak at the way she suddenly retreated, at the way she looked so betrayed as her eyes shifted into her companion’s eyes, which were downcast.

“We uhm, brought you some gifts. We called your daughter before coming here to ask permission if we can visit you, so we also asked what you liked,” Seonyeong supplied, trying to alleviate the sudden shift of the air.

“Thank you for your thoughtfulness.” Siho accepted the bag meekly, disheartened by the revelation. “I’m sorry for how I acted,” she said dejectedly.

The younger woman felt her throat constrict at the sound of her voice, of how she retreated back into her walls, of how her eyes suddenly lost that small sparkle when she saw her. If one could hear a broken heart, they would have heard hers already.

Seonyeong couldn’t help but envelop her in a hug, her lungs constricting at the look of hurt in her face.

To have returned it, even if silently, was enough for her. There was a certain warmth in her hug that brought Siho back in the time when they were younger. It felt comforting, nostalgic even. The same warmth that she always searched for after her sister passed.

And once emotions settled and all of them finally settled down, Siho’s companion, Doyoon, held her hand tightly as they faced the two of them. With the swell of emotions, Seonyeong couldn’t help but wonder.

“I’m happy to finally meet you,” Nam Doyoon smiled, offering his hand. And for a man of his age, his smile was bright and full, even if it was forced.

Sungwon returned the gesture and shook his hand. “And we are happy to be here.”

“Seonyeong-ssi,” he offered, making Seonyeong smile. It wasn’t a surprise to her that the two of them knew their names, given that they must be the ones who gave them the letters.

Seonyeong’s gaze traveled to the older woman again, noting how Doyoon rubbed circles on her back, at how she offered them a gentle smile despite everything. She was glad that her eyes were still as warm as her smile, that despite the mix-up, it was still as sincere as the very first moment they had.

“What brought the two of you here?” Doyoon asked, his eyes still a pool of emotions, just like Siho’s.

“Both Sungwon-ssi and I received a letter a few weeks ago. We wanted to ask you if you knew who sent it.”

“We did.” That was his short answer. Seonyeong waited for a follow-up but got none.

“Does that mean you wanted us to meet?” Curiosity was overflowing in Sungwon’s eyes.

“If you put it that way, yes,” Doyoon nodded, his eyes masking what he felt.

“And the picture frame?” This time, it was Seonyeong who interjected. There were just too many mysteries in that house that she wanted to unveil. And for some reason, the curt responses partnered with the deafening silence made her uncomfortable.

Out of everything else, the picture frame was the most important one to her. It brought up feelings that she only experienced during her dreams or when she was carving a particular piece of art. It gave her a familiarity she didn’t know was possible, a certain nostalgia she tried so hard to recall but couldn’t.

“That is our family.” This time, it was Siho who spoke affectionately, leaning towards Doyoon for support.

“But they look exactly like us,” Seonyeong whispered, loud enough for all of the occupants in the room to hear. She could see Siho’s grip tightening in their joined hands.

“They were you.” A sigh escaped from the old man, his gaze meeting Sungwon’s. Along with the sigh was tension subsiding from his shoulders, as if he was ready to unload the emotions he tried so hard to keep in. “Will you believe us if we say you two are special?”

There was a hesitation in the way he said it that made Sungwon think that they really didn’t want to divulge much to them, that they wanted both of them to figure it out on their own. It was as if they expected neither Sungwon nor Seonyeong to reach out.

And try as he might, he knew they were not ones to lie, that it wouldn’t benefit any party for them to, that the way the older woman, Siho, reacted already gave a clear understanding of the reality of the situation. “As much as I want to believe this is but a fragment of my imagination, evidence suggests otherwise,” he said.

The two of them exchanged knowing looks, the older woman nodding, turning slightly to face them. Her eyes were dazed as she inhaled the cool breeze of the autumn air.

“50 years ago, when me and my sister were orphans who had no way to go, we found each other,” Siho narrated, recalling some events from years that passed. “We were such a dysfunctional bunch, most from different walks of life. But although our time together was short, it was the warmest I ever felt.”

Doyoon stood up and fished his wallet, handing them his crumpled copy of the same picture and then some.

Both Sungwon and Seonyeong huddled together to look at the few old photographs at their disposal. They looked very worn out, the edges already discolored. But they were real.

Sungwon couldn’t help but smile at the funny faces as he shifted the picture onto the next — eyes shining, alive like the mirth on their faces. It was a moment in time when they were together, he thought, salvaged and immortalized by a photograph that Dowoon kept close to him. It made him feel warmth pool in the pit of his stomach as his eyes softened.

“You guys looked so happy and carefree,” he commented, earning a brief but hopeful nod from the two. “So the one who looks like Miss Park was your sister?”

Siho bobbed her head, turning her gaze back to Seonyeong. There was a lot of longing in her eyes; stifled affection that always lingered, and never left. “Would you believe us if we say that you are her reincarnation? And that Mr. Lee is Dan Hwal’s?”

“Dan Hwal..?”

“The man called Park Huicheol, his real name is Dan Hwal,” Doyoon supplied.

“Why did he change his name?” There were a lot of secrets and it felt as if both Min Sangwoon and Dan Hwal were an enigma that would always follow them.

“Because you are special,” the older man answered, smiling.

“Dan Hwal and my sister, Min Sangwoon, had been through a lot. Their lives were anything but normal, and yet the reason why they went through such lengths was to keep us, their family, safe,” Siho continued, her eyes still in a faraway place, as if she went back in time. “They endured so much pain and suffering but they kept going. In the end, they chose to sacrifice themselves to give us a future.”

A sad smile lingered in her features in silent reminisce, her eyes masking the pain she felt as she told them of the past. For some reason, Seonyeong could feel the same sorrow in her heart.

“We promised each other that we would wait for them, no matter how long it takes,” Doyoon whispered, his voice soft, like water that flowed gently through a river. “I guess what hyung said is really true, that people who crossed paths once continue to meet each other.”

Siho shifted and left Doyoon’s embrace, taking Seonyeong’s hand in both of hers. The younger woman smiled gratefully and gave their joint hands a soft squeeze. “You still have the same spirit as my sister.”

“To be honest, it feels a lot to take in,” she murmured, and Sungwon could observe the way her eyes spoke – overwhelmed, stunned. The scene felt intimate, kind of confining, and a little bit confusing.

And yet none indicated that it didn’t feel right. Yes he still felt a little conscious and yes he still had a lot of questions that lingered through the recesses of his heart, but he knew that one could only take so much emotional confrontation in a day. And there was a lot more that these two didn’t want to say.

Doyoon gave a rueful smile. “Please take your time. You’re probably so confused and overwhelmed right now. We are just happy you are here.“

Years of yearning, of looking beyond an open window as father time moved its hands away from their favor. Years of slow, agonizing grief, of a hole that couldn’t be filled and of lost hope that just presented itself today — for both of them who waited patiently, it was worth it.

“We’re just really happy to finally see you,” Doyoon smiled brightly.

::::

“Doyoon-ah,” Min Siho whispered a little while later, eyes hungrily looking at the door. “I’ve lived a full life, I was even happy,” Si-ho gave their joint hands a light squeeze, lower lip trembling as she watched them walk away. “But why do I feel sad?”

Doyoon held her closer, resting her head on the crook of his neck. Time has caught up to them — it revealed itself in the fine lines along with their eyes and lips, or the wrinkled skin.

Yet even time couldn’t erase the thought of Hwal and Sangwoon or their little dysfunctional family. Memories kept them company when they needed it — they danced with them, savored them, and kept them close.

It presented itself through their belongings, their clothes, their scent. It was present in the pictures kept neatly in their wallets or boxes, in picture frames, or tucked neatly in their pockets.

It reared its head whenever they see Sangwoon’s favorite meal or home-cooked recipes that Hyeseok-imo would proudly call them to, or on a car Hwal could have bought if he was with them or even during fishing trips that detective Kwon loved. It was there on picnics and barbecue nights — their laughs wandering softly through the air, filling up the night sky and their hearts.

It was present when Si-ho would turn around to ask something — a mannerism she always kept, and yet Sangwoon wasn’t there. Or when Doyoon stumbled but Hwal couldn’t assist him.

It was in the little things, and yet it made a big difference in their lives.

And even when they got older, those sparks of memories never left them. When they felt their presence slipping away, they looked at the picture and closed their eyes — it allowed them to hear their waves of laughter and feel their warmth, however faint and fleeting it may be.

“Noona, even I want to wish for them to remember if it meant we get to spend time with them again.” Doyoon closed his eyes as he finally let tears trickle down his face. “But that would be too cruel.”

“All I ever wished for,” Siho knew she was being selfish, but this was Doyoon, and Doyoon wouldn’t mind it. It felt like they were young again, back in the time when they lived in the house. “is for our little family to be complete again.”

A pause, a crack in her voice.

“A part of me always hoped for them to remember,” she told him, hazel eyes glazed in silent reminiscence. “How selfish am I if I wanted to be with them in this life as well? To tell them I missed them?”

Doyoon held Siho closer in his arms, as the older woman buried her face in his neck. He didn’t have any words to give, any assurance to say. He hoped as well that somehow, even if they wouldn’t remember, they would find each other again and be together.

He held onto Hwal’s words for dear life after all this time — they kept him going.

As both of them held these new memories close, they silently wished among the stars that this new life would grant the two of them eternal happiness.

Even if it was without them.

::::

“You’ve been very silent.” Sungwon broke the deafening silence. They were back in his car after their prolonged visit, driving back into the city they were familiar with.

“Do you think Min Siho-ssi was telling the truth?” Seonyeong asked, her face scrunched in deep concentration.

“I can’t say. I …don’t think she is lying.” He could feel Seonyeong’s eyes shifting to him, seeking answers. “I just don’t know how to take in what she said. It just feels too unrealistic that I wanna refuse to believe it,” he explained.

There were a lot of things that overwhelmed him during their brief stay, but he knew in his heart that none of the two were lying. The warmth and the way their eyes asked for their assurance spoke volumes, more than what words could give.

“I think we both know deep inside that I can be real. And that there is more to it,” Seonyeong supplied. “The picture spoke for itself. No matter how much we try to deny it, her sister and Dan Hwal looked exactly like us.”

“So you will believe everything that she said?” Sungwon asked. He wanted so badly to believe her, yet this information would shake all of his beliefs and made-up world.

“Yes, I do.” There was only confidence in her voice. It caused Sungwon to steal a glance, if only for a moment. And true enough, her eyes were ablaze.

“Why?” He needed to find a reason to believe in all of these. His job taught him that truth was the greatest weapon and substantial pieces of evidence could win you battles.

And yet even with the current evidence and gestures that spoke nothing but sincerity, it was just so hard to take in. Truthfully, he was scared, and he needed someone to convince him to continue this madness.

“Because.. everything she said matches up with some of my dreams. I feel like the more I speak to them, the more these dreams will make sense.”

“I just.. don’t know what to feel about all of this,” he opened.

“Give it time, Sungwon-ssi.” A small smile erupted on her lips, comforting him. It was a little gesture, but it did lift the burden somehow.

“But I do want to know more about the past. I want to know more about Dan Hwal and Min Sangwoon.”

“Me too. I want to know about their story. If it is true that Min Sangwoon-ssi was my past life, then I want to know who she was. I feel like Min Siho-ssi purposely left out a lot of details.”

“I think so too. And it frustrates me because I want answers. But as they say, there is a burden in knowing the truth.” Seonyeong’s eyes were down, lips thinning into a line. He could feel her shoulders rise as a sigh escaped her lips.

For some reason, it made him worry.

“They did say things ended up tragically,” she paused. “For some reason, the way the halmeoni held me made me feel sad. Her eyes looked so heartbroken when we told them we didn’t know them.”

Seonyeong’s eyes spoke of many things, of a million feelings and a well of emotions — of uncertainty, doubts, and a purpose; of sad realizations and answers she possibly longed for. And within all of it? Warmth. He saw it in the way she looked at Siho every time she spoke, on the ways her eyes followed the older woman — the way she listened, the way she held back, the soft gaze she gave.

Dubiously, his right hand tapped her shoulder lightly, giving her a comforting gaze. His lips curved a little in a crappy representation of a smile. “We’ll be okay.”

He wanted to believe in his own words too.

Seonyeong placed her hand in his and squeezed it, returning the gesture. “Thank you by the way, for being with me today. Everything felt so overwhelming that I am just glad I have someone with me.” Her eyes felt so sincere that Sungwon felt warmth spread on his chest.

He looked out of the window to see the sun starting to come down from the sky. “If you still have time, I want to take you somewhere. Let’s cheer up.”

Chapter Text

Soundtrack: Boy in a Water Globe by Slow Meadow

V. Boy in a Water Globe

You are a mystery to me, yet so familiar.

Like a song I've never heard before,

and a tune I've known my entire life.

- Pavana

::::

V. Boy in a Water Globe

“Human relationships are chemical reactions. If you have a reaction then you can never return back to your previous state of being,” she read out loud, her mind preoccupied with thoughts from the last few weeks. 

She was an ordinary person, at least that’s what she wanted to believe. 

From a very young age, she had always been more independent — a forward thinker, a girl with a positive outlook, one who decided for herself. 

People were naturally drawn to her, and yet she had a tendency to be wary and refuse them all. 

For all her kindness and sincerity, she never failed to wear a facade. She didn’t know why, but it just felt more comfortable — a kind of reassurance that gave her a soft cushion just in case. 

Park Seonyeong felt she was ordinary, until she realized she wasn’t.

She started having dreams — a shuffle of scenes, a series of voices and pleas, a myriad of emotions. 

Sometimes they overwhelmed her to an extent she started to question who she was, and then she’d start telling herself they were all a dream and nothing about them was real. 

Then they started occurring regularly.

At first, she was confused. She wanted to refuse them and mostly even denied their existence. But nights always brought her back to places she felt familiar with and people she wanted to desperately know. So she started chasing after them, using art as a medium to remember. 

And when she saw him, she started to become mildly convinced that they were real. 

His name was Lee Sungwon.

His eyes always carried the same reservation and disbelief ever since they have met, similar to the vague recollection of a man she frequently saw in her dreams. He was always hesitant, cautious, and sometimes even confused. Most of the time, he always looked serious and deep in thought. But one couldn’t deny the way he looked at her, the way he searched her with his eyes — they softened, they were warm. 

It was evident when he invited her to watch the sun set in his favorite place. 

It was a rooftop patio surrounded by beautiful flora and fauna. Carnations and peonies of different colors joined pink roses in flower beds while vines, as well as potted plants, lined up some shelves and the walkway leading towards the café Sungwon frequented. 

There were not many words spoken, just the two of them enjoying the view as they drank his favorite coffee — espresso mixed with 99.9% pure unsweetened soy milk with exactly four ice cubes. 

She was dumbstruck at how specific his choice of drink was, yet couldn’t help but appreciate how good it tasted. He even joked that she shouldn’t complain if she didn’t like it, and it made her chuckle. When he said he wanted to cheer her up, he really meant it. 

“You seem like a regular in this coffee shop,” she surmised, pleasantly surprised. 

“I am. This is like my safe place when I want to get away from work,” he mustered proudly, “think of it as my happy place.” Conversations with him were light and comfortable, something she hadn’t experienced in a while if at all. It made her curious why being with him was so easy. Was it really just because they knew each other in the past? 

In the silence, they marveled at the colors that danced through the sky — of oranges and pinks and purples as the sun started going down; and eventually, of blues and violets that coated the sky with specks of stars. There were moments of laughter whenever he made jokes, moments of curiosity as they tried to slowly get to know each other, and moments reserved for gazing at the sky in awe. 

He told her stories of his travels and she listened intently, drinking on his every word. She told him how much she loves seeing these kinds of views, how much she loves the mountains and the sea. And in the end, he promised he would show her more of them in the future.

Meeting him was a whirlwind of emotions she never expected in her life, but she appreciated him and his efforts. Mostly, she appreciated his existence. 

And that’s how she found herself spending time with him again. 

This time, he picked a place he wanted to try, in the heart of the small town. 

The restaurant was intimate and serene. It had the aroma of a homecooked meal as one came back from work, simple delicacies that were the town’s specialties. One would enjoy either soju or wine and still feel comfortable as people from different walks of life littered the establishment. 

The air didn’t feel as crowded, even though whispers and murmurs filled the room as the sweet scent of food and flowers wafted through the air. Sungwon was wearing a white Henley shirt inside his denim jacket, something that made him look more casual and carefree, hair a bit disheveled. A small smile lingered on his face as soon as he saw her. 

There were no hard lines on his face, eyes as bright as the smile he gave her when he asked for her order. It made Seonyeong blush, her heart skipping a beat at the sight. They sat on a small booth near the window, overlooking the countryside hills. There was a short, awkward greeting as soon as both of them settled. 

He boasted a kind of aura that confused her — someone she knew was related to her past, but someone who also didn’t believe he was. Yet, even with the difference in their point of view and opinions, she was drawn to him like he was to her. She knew they had some sort of connection — if it wasn’t already heavily implied by the pictures, it was confirmed by her dreams.

Of memories that kept haunting her.

Of the electricity that she felt whenever he was close.

He was always kind and respectful towards people, always keeping boundaries, and always polite. And his eyes spoke of a million things even if he didn’t talk about them. 

His eyes always told her what she needed to know. And at the moment she was glad that they held a relaxed, carefree gaze, a stark contrast to the deep, frustrated one he always seem to wear. 

For a moment, they talked about the menu and exchanged opinions on the food they wanted to try, seemingly calming nerves until their anxious peals of laughter turned into relaxed smiles — he asked about her work, and she told him about her new commission and how it was taking too much of her time. He listened intently, giving advice and asking questions when they were due as his eyes focused on her. 

Seonyeong was happy to talk about her projects and have someone appreciate her work, giving detail after detail about her sculptures. 

She asked about his job, to which he replied that he was bored and most of the cases he was handling were slow-moving. She was itching to know a lot of things but bit her tongue when she felt like he didn’t want to talk too much about it as his eyes shifted during the conversation. 

So she talked about the dessert she wanted him to try. Sensing her intent, he smiled in disbelief at how considerate she was and nodded. And when Sungwon saw her beam, he couldn’t help but feel taken aback by the way her eyes sparkled. 

He cleared his throat, hesitant about the topic that had been simmering in his stomach for far too long, mind asking for answers to the point he was losing sleep. “Seonyeong-ssi, do you still really want to find out more about Min Sangwoon?”

Seonyeong was taken aback by the sudden shift of the air — of how his eyes were hesitant and worried, of the change in demeanor. His posture was stiff, eyes downcast. “Yes,” she answered truthfully.

She felt like this had been eating him alive. 

He already seemed to have expected her to answer, meeting her gaze even for a brief time. It wasn’t like him to be this anxious, but something was holding him back — like there was something that begged for him to remember. “But even if she is really your reincarnation, isn’t the Seonyeong today more important than Min Sangwoon of the past? Wouldn’t it be confusing to remember all those memories?” Sungwon asked in succession, and for a while, she didn’t know if her answer was to convince her or himself.

Seonyeong let out a chuckle. “If those memories really exist,” she paused, her eyes emitting a soft glow as she fiddled with her hands, “then they are the reason why I am here today.”

“What do you mean?”

“The art you saw in the gallery and in the studio — it’s the whole reason why I stand before you today.” 

A pause, a sad smile, despondent eyes.

Oh?

Oh. 

“When I was younger, I used to cry to my mom about my dreams. Sometimes, I see a man with red eyes — he was filled with anger and hatred, and he had this sinister smile that made me wake up in the middle of the night in fear and sometimes even anger.” 

“But one day, I dreamt I was exploring a flower field. I remember being so happy in that dream. I knew I was with someone, just that I couldn’t recall his face even if I want to. Still, I picked up a pencil and started sketching. Before I knew it, I already have a lot of scribbles — they kept me company.”

It was the first time she confided much about herself to someone else — opting to keep it all inside after all these years. There was a comforting feeling of finally letting it go, of finally telling someone of her loneliness. It was liberating.

“Do you still want to remember, even if everything ended tragically?” Sungwon asked, brows furrowed and lips set in a thin line.

“I want to remember because these dreams have always been a part of me — who I am today, no matter how small, was because of them. People started appreciating my work because they are drawn to my story.” 

Her lips quirked into a genuine smile, finding his eyes. “And if one day, I do remember everything that Min Sangwoon did, it will be because I wanted to remember.”

“Even if it is painful?”

Seonyeong chuckled, exhaling a breath. “Since when was life easy? No matter what happens anyway, I will still be Park Seonyeong. Min Sangwoon-ssi is already gone but she is a part of me, just like Dan Hwal will always be a part of you. I do not want to erase her.”

Sungwon nodded and returned her smile, still unsure of what to think about the whole fiasco, but accepting it anyway. Just as he was about to tell her that they should try the appetizer, his phone rang. 

He answered it reluctantly after asking for permission from Seonyeong if he could take the call. It was the owner of the local bar that he and Juwon frequented. 

The old man sounded so desperate and pleading as he told Sungwon of the situation that all the latter could do was listen and nod in agreement. It wasn’t the first time this happened, but it still frustrated him as he was the one who insisted to go out with Seonyeong. After telling the owner that he would fetch his friend, a sigh escaped his lips as he wondered how he would break the news to Seonyeong. 

She had been staring at him with worried eyes, probably because he couldn’t mask his annoyance at Juwon’s timing. Truth be told, he wasn’t a patient person and this situation was pissing him off. 

“I’ll need to go,” he gulped, dreading her reaction. He wanted to stir away from her probing eyes but knew that he owed her an explanation. It was the least he could do.

“What happened?” she asked.

Another sigh, bracing himself for the inevitable as he felt his heart sinking at the thought. “My friend passed out at a local pub and the owner wants me to pick him up before he throws him out.”

Sungwon expected her to be angry, to walk out, or to even make a fuss but he could only see genuine concern through her furrowed brows. “Is he okay?”

“He’ll live,” he answered plainly through pursed hips, hoping that his annoyance won’t seep through the facade he was creating. He fished out a few paper bills from his wallet, avoiding her gaze. 

What he didn’t expect was her calling for the waiter to instead pack their food. “If you can wait for a few minutes, I’ll want to come with you.” 

Sungwon couldn’t believe her. He was a mere stranger she happened to meet in an old abandoned house that had an eerie portrait of their doppelgangers, yet she had been nothing but kind and thoughtful when it came to him. 

He gaped like a fish out of water, seemingly at a loss for words. Out of all the possible scenarios he created in his head, this one was the least expected outcome. 

Sensing his confusion, Seonyeong cleared her throat. “We will take the food with us, your friend might need it when he wakes up. Besides, you might need me to help you bring him home. Also, it might be more fun to eat together. Yeah, that’s it.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction, his heart flooded with warmth at her thoughtfulness. He looked at her and shook his head. 

She was a handful, yet he couldn’t have imagined the situation in another way. 

::::

They arrived at the bar’s back alley a few minutes later, where a sprawled and passed-out Juwon mumbled through closed eyes littered the way besides empty chairs and garbage bins.

Sungwon gave Seonyeong a knowing gaze and the latter nodded, bending down to Juwon’s direction as Sungwon tried to find the owner. 

He bowed and apologized as soon as he saw him, paying off Juwon’s tab and promising to keep him in line. The owner expressed his gratitude for Sungwon looking after his friend, emphatic over Juwon’s situation despite his annoyance. As always, the man just told him that Juwon refused to stop drinking even when he was already out of it, with his face as red as a tomato. It made him worry to the point that he decided to call Sungwon. 

It wasn’t the first time it happened.

As soon as he stepped out of the establishment, he was surprised to see that Seonyeong already leaned Juwon on the wall near the door. It took him a few seconds to realize he was gaping like a fish and had been staring at the unknowing girl, actually stunned. 

“You’re back,” Seonyeong chirped, pausing at her ministration to greet him when she realized he was standing near them. She was crouched in front of Juwon, using a wet towel to wipe the sweat and grime off his face. How she was able to carry a full-grown man that was splattered in the middle of the alleyway, he hoped would remain a mystery. “It’s a good thing we took some food out, he will likely need it.”

Sungwon scratched the back of his head, unable to muster a proper response to the situation. “Sorry for the trouble.”

Seonyeong gave him a bright smile, shaking her head. “I’m happy to help. He looks so out of it.”

“The owner said he tried to go home after our call ended, but Juwon was so drunk he ended up sleeping on the ground. And when they tried to move him, he didn’t want to budge.” With a sigh, he crouched down beside her, waving his hand in front of his friend. He was silently praying Juwon would wake up so that they could drive him home and then enjoy the rest of the day.

No response. 

“He’s probably not gonna wake up for some time. The best we can do is bring him home,” he decided, already dreading the inevitable. If there was one thing he hated, it was navigating through Juwon’s apartment after a drunken tirade. 

“Sounds good,” Seonyeong stood up and wiped her clothes. “We’re gonna have to drag him to your car.” 

He was not looking forward to it. 

“I worry about the mess that will welcome us when we get there,” he whispered, hoping Seonyeong wouldn’t hate both of them when she saw it. Still, it was wise to brace himself for the possibility, since the woman would probably be too stubborn to refuse. It was one thing to see another person drunk, but it was another to have one’s day ruined by a stranger and an acquaintance. 

Did her dare call himself her friend? He hoped so. He really hoped so. 

“We’ll manage,” she sighed, evaluating the mess they got themselves to and how they could bring him back to his bed comfortably. 

He needed to think of a way to make up to her after today, that was if she even wanted to meet him again. 

::::

They arrived at the front door of his apartment not even an hour later, wheezing as they supported his weight by putting his hands around their shoulders and dragging him to his bed.

At some point, Seonyeong even joked that they make a pretty good team, but Sungwon was having none of it as his annoyance started increasing with every step they took. 

Sometimes, Juwon’s head would bob in either direction, testing Sungwon’s patience especially since he actually and embarrassingly dragged Seonyeong into his friend’s mess. As much as he wanted his friend’s head to lean only towards him, he was a lot taller than Seonyeong, and he could see how the latter struggled whenever he did. The only consolation was the way she always reassured him — be it with her smile or disposition. At least he knew she wasn’t angry. 

She made a nervous laugh as soon as they tucked him into bed. 

A mess was an understatement. 

Piles of papers and empty cup noodles littered the bedside and his office table. Worn and even clean clothes were scattered haphazardly around his room along with some of his belongings. The stench of alcohol wafted around the enclosed space, the smell becoming much stronger whenever they exit his room.

“I told you so,” Sungwon muttered, dismayed. He couldn’t believe Juwon desecrated his place this much. And he also couldn’t believe he agreed for Seonyeong to help in this mess. But he at least thought the worse was over and they could quietly exit and go on with their day.

I didn’t doubt it one bit,” she countered, her eyes scanning through the small space and how dismal it looked. “I guess we will have to clean this place up.”

Sungwon looked at her, wide-eyed and mouth agape. “You mean to tell me that we’re not yet leaving?”

“It’s your friend, it’s the least we could do,” she scolded.

“Absolutely not, we already did a lot by dragging his ungrateful ass back home.” He was frowning and Seonyeong couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. He was kinda cute when mad, even if she felt like he was always stuck up or serious.

“You can go without me then,” Seonyeong insisted. Briefly, she closed her eyes and exhaled a deep breath before she started picking up Juwon’s clothes. 

This woman was an enigma, an unreadable force, a pandora’s box. And she was making him concede the battle of wills through her stubbornness. 

“I can’t believe you want to clean up this mess.” He couldn’t even be more annoyed even if he wanted to, instead, he just felt flabbergasted as he joined her in piling the clothes neatly on the basket in the corner of the room. “You don’t even know him.”

“He’s your friend, friends look out for each other,” she said plainly. He resigned to what she wanted and shook his head, working silently in cleaning the trash in Juwon’s home.

The place looked a lot more spacious as soon as they finished cleaning the house. 

Seonyeong gave a satisfied grin as she tied up the last of the many trash bags they incurred during the process, making sure to label each one accordingly. “We really do make a pretty good team,” she declared. 

A sigh escaped Sungwon’s lips, organizing the bags accordingly and making a mental note to tell Juwon to dispose of them properly. After all, Juwon wouldn’t be too thick-skinned enough to ignore how much time and effort they spent to help him. 

He also made sure he would get a handful from him once he was sober. 

He accepted the fact that the ordeal drained him a lot and he sat down next to Seonyeong on the living room’s lone couch, handing over a drink. The latter accepted it graciously, smiling as she took a sip. 

For a while, only comfortable silence accompanied them as they rested, until the gnawing feeling he endured finally reared its head.

He scratched the back of his head, trying to find the words to express how grateful he was for her. But all he managed to do was swallow as his lips thinned to a line. “Sorry.”

It was the only word that came out of his mouth. And for a moment, he wanted to kick himself. 

Seonyeong looked at him, confused. “What for?” 

“I didn’t want you to spend your day off caring for a drunken bastard.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “It’s alright, don’t be angry at him. I’m sure he has a reason why he wanted to drown himself in alcohol.”

She spoke as if she was familiar with Juwon’s struggles, as if at some point, she too had to do the same thing. Yet her voice was as warm as her heart, and it made Sungwon feel the same warmth bubbling at the pit of his stomach. 

She made him feel alive. 

“I tried to make him stop drinking countless times, but I never succeeded,” he confided, feeling terrible at the state of his friend. 

“Maybe what he is carrying is too heavy that he thought alcohol is his only escape.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her gaze staring down at the hands that held her beverage.

“A lot of people seem to think that way, even if it’s wrong.” He probably would be like that too, except that he used work to occupy sinking feelings and emptiness.

“It is.”

“I don’t even know why I bother helping him,” Sungwon confessed, gaze lingering on the far-off ceiling. Briefly, he wondered why he even bothered telling her this. Would she be angry if she found out Sungwon was a bad friend?

“Has he ever tried opening up to you?” Seonyeong stared at him, waiting for him to speak. 

“Yes,” he sighed. “Your first meeting with him may be deplorable, but I hope it is the last you see him like this.” He gave a hesitant smile, resting his head on the back cushion. “He is a good guy, but I just hope he stops blaming himself for things he can’t even remember.”

 “What do you mean?”

“The reason why I moved here was mostly because of him. Eventually, I was able to find him some work here as a part of the police force. As for me, I think the place helped me find some peace from the growing buzz of the city.”

Seonyeong fiddled with her thumbs, staring at the can with a soft quirk on her lips. “You must really care about him.”

“But it is getting tiring to look after his mess,” he lamented. He didn’t know why, but it felt.. right to tell her this. 

There was something about her that made him feel different scores of emotions that he hadn’t felt before. Or if he did, he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was like a wave that quickly engulfed him as he sat near the shore, the sheer strength of the action sending him into an underwater frenzy. 

But it felt right, it felt good. It felt safe. Yeah, that was the term. She made him feel, enough that he actually started looking forward to things. 

Enough that he felt like he had a direction. 

And it all led to her. 

She placed her hand on his, squeezing it. The action surprised him that he looked at her fully, only to see a bright smile and sincere eyes. “On his behalf, thank you for taking care of him.”

Juwon wasn’t even her friend, yet the way she spoke held many things. Sungwon was sure that if he was awake, he would have been touched by her gesture, if he wasn’t already with the amount of effort she exerted on him. 

She also made Sungwon feel like all of his efforts mattered and amounted to something. And it made him realize that the past may not matter as much, but she was starting to matter to him.

He snickered, protesting. “I can’t believe you thanked me for taking care of my friend when I should be the one thanking you for helping me. I ruined your day off and made you clean a shitty apartment on top of it.”

“I enjoyed helping,” she answered plainly. Seonyeong thought it was endearing, how he was able to open up a few of his feelings to her. 

Sungwon shook his head, smirking at her antics. “You’re really something else.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, throwing a playful punch.

“You’re too kind for your own good,” he said softly, looking at her.

“I hope you meant that as a compliment.”

“Yes and no.” Seonyeong pouted, enough to make him feel the need to hurry and explain why. “I just hope you also take care of yourself because you will look like an idiot to people who will want to take advantage of you,” he quipped.

“Take that back,” she joked. He found it hilarious how surprised she was at his choice of words.

And then, all he was able to see was how close she was to him, how gentle her gaze was and how serene her smile looked. 

It was because Seonyeong leaned closer,  fixing a stray lock of hair and tucking it back, earning a petrified gaze from Sungwon’s supposed mirthful glee.

“This kind of hair also suits you,” she whispered, “even if your hair is disheveled.” 

The ministration was soft and innocent, yet it made him feel so much — it made his lungs constrict, as the contact made his skin prickle. Yet it also was so light that it felt familiar, if not welcoming. It felt intimate, if not warm. 

Briefly, a beautiful figure appeared before him and every sense of reality disappeared. Like Seonyeong, she also fixed the lock of hairs that marred his features. 

The way she smiled sent a gentle tug on his heartstrings as his breathing hitched.

He felt his heart stop at the gesture, eyes wide as he innocently stared at her, leaning onto her touch. It felt surreal — it wasn’t the kind of gesture that was electrifying, but rather, it was the kind that made him feel alive. Her presence felt as kind as it was gentle, it felt like calm to his storm. 

And for a moment, Sungwon stood there, shell shocked at the very first flash of images his mind has conjured.