The city pulsed beneath gray skies, rain clouds low and heavy as if the sky itself was holding its breath.
In a parked black car across from Daehan Tower, a man sat with the engine off, windows tinted, eyes sharp behind designer frames. Seoul's chaos flowed past him—honking taxis, umbrella-dotted sidewalks, the impatient rush of the morning commute. But he didn't move. Not even to blink.
He wasn't here for Seoul.
He was here for her.
He held a photograph in his gloved hand. Worn, smudged at the edges. Two children stood in it—one girl, one boy. The girl wore a red hairclip shaped like a tiny crane. The boy had a gentle smile, eyes a little too sad for someone so young.
The man exhaled slowly, the air fogging slightly in front of him.
"You've come back again, Haeun," he whispered, more to the memory than the moment. "I wonder if you'll still recognize me when the time comes."
---
Daehan Tower, Rooftop Garden
Rain hadn't started yet, but the wind carried that damp stillness—the kind that made your skin prickle and your heart feel like it was standing on the edge of something it couldn't see.
Haeun stood beside Jinhwan, arms crossed loosely, trying not to look as nervous as she felt.
"I don't remember the whole dream," she said finally. "Just... pieces."
"What kind of pieces?"
"Feelings. Glimpses. Like déjà vu, but more painful. Like I lost something I promised never to let go of."
Jinhwan was quiet. Then he said, "You once told me love was like that. A promise we make in silence, hoping the other person is listening."
She turned to him. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was low and careful. As if he wasn't just talking about dreams.
She didn't know how to respond. Not really. So she said the first honest thing that came to her mind.
"I don't know what this is between us," she murmured, "but it's terrifying."
"Because it feels too real?"
She nodded.
"Me too," he admitted.
That admission—quiet, unforced—hung between them, more intimate than a thousand grand declarations.
---
Later that day – Haeun's office corner
Back at her desk, Haeun tried to focus on the blueprints in front of her. Tried to pretend the conversation hadn't happened. That her bracelet wasn't occasionally warming like a pulse just under the skin. That her dreams weren't rewriting her past.
But every line she traced with her stylus, every symbol she reviewed, brought a deeper sense of déjà vu.
"Yoon Haeun-ssi?"
She looked up. It was Yuri again.
"There's someone here to see you," she said. "He's not on the appointment list, but... he says he knows you. Said his name is Seo Ian."
Haeun blinked. "I... I don't know anyone by that name."
Yuri tilted her head. "He said you used to. A long time ago."
A chill danced down her spine. "Where is he?"
"Lobby."
Haeun stood slowly, her palms damp. "Okay. I'll go down."
---
Lobby, Daehan Tower
She spotted him immediately.
Tall. Sharp jawline. Expensive coat. But his eyes were the thing that stopped her.
Warm brown. Gentle. Familiar in a way that hurt.
"Ian?" she asked hesitantly.
He smiled. Not wide. Not fake. A soft, pained kind of smile.
"You remembered something, didn't you?" he asked, skipping any pretense.
Haeun took a step back. "Who are you?"
"I'm the one who never forgets," he said.
She stared. Her heart was thudding, unsure whether it wanted to run or listen.
He pulled the photograph from his pocket and handed it to her.
Her fingers trembled.
That was her in the picture. Young. Maybe six years old. Hair in two braids. That same red crane clip her mother used to put in for special days.
And next to her—Jinhwan.
Her breath caught. "Where did you get this?"
"I was there," Ian said. "We all were. That life. That time."
Her head spun.
"I don't understand—"
"You will," he said gently. "But you need to be careful. The curse doesn't wait for understanding. It only waits for blood."
---
Elsewhere – Rooftop Garden
Jinhwan stood alone again.
Min stepped up beside him. "He's here."
"I know."
"You're not going to stop him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because he still loves her."
Min frowned. "That doesn't mean he won't destroy everything."
Jinhwan didn't respond. He just stared into the clouds, rain beginning to fall in slow, heavy drops.