Chapter 2: Amnesia
Hana's attention was immediately drawn to the creaking sound of the door opening.
A young, good-looking boy stepped into the room, the hallway light casting a long shadow before him. Tall and lean, with sharp cheekbones and eyes that pierced through the soul of anyone staring. His dark brown hair looked slightly tattered, damp from the rain outside, and his jaw was clenched like he'd been holding his breath for hours.
On his right arm, just below the sleeve of his blue t-shirt, a shark tattoo peeked through. Sleek. Powerful. Dangerous. But the expression on his face was nothing compared to the icy, dark aura he exuded-helpless concern.
He walked calmly as he approached the bedside, as if afraid she might vanish the second he blinked. Pulling the chair closer, he sat beside her and leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly with hers.
"Hana," he said, his voice low and steady but a bit husky. "How are you feeling?"
Her eyes met his, dazed and tired, but calm. She blinked a few times before nodding weakly.
Sun Woo. That was his name.
Twenty-four. Quiet. Protective.
She didn't remember where they met or how he ended up by her side, but he was her constant. Her anchor. He called her "rat" sometimes, and said it was a befitting name just for her.
Sun Woo never treated her like a burden, even though she could be one.
He reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and held it to her lips. Slowly, he whispered.
She sipped, watching him the whole time. Every movement of his hands was gentle, but his eyes betrayed the storm behind his calm. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.
"You scared me," he admitted, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. You were out for a week. I thought I'd lost you."
Hana swallowed hard. "What... what happened?"
"You fell down the stairs," he said. "You hit your head pretty badly." Then, after a pause, he added, "Do you..." Remember anything? Before the fall?"
She shook her head slowly. "I remember standing up to someone... a woman, a voice yelling... then darkness," she said with a puzzled expression.
His face darkened a little. "Don't force it. Just rest. Your memories will come back when they're ready."
She wanted to believe that. But in the back of her mind, a question echoed louder than anything:
Who am I?
Sun Woo, as caring as he was, wasn't her blood. She knew that. He had always taken care of her-bought her medicine, walked her to school, stayed up late during her fevers-but he wasn't the one who had bought her freedom from that orphanage a decade ago.
That person... was someone else.
Someone in the shadows.
She only knew him as Wacko, an alias that made little sense but stuck like a whisper behind every major turn in her life. He never revealed his face. Only sent letters. Instructions. Resources. Money. Silent protection.
And now, the memory of her brutal past at the orphanage-the beatings, the injustice-was all crawling back, but still a bit far in the dark fog in her head.
Hana stared at the boy in front of her, the one with the shark tattoo and tired eyes.
She didn't know who saved her ten years ago.
But she knew one thing for sure:
Sun Woo was her lifeline.
Hana clutched the blanket tighter around her shoulders, her breath coming in shaky gasps. Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece together fragmented images, chalkboards, laughter, names whispered in corridors, but the harder she reached, the faster the memories slipped away like mist in sunlight.
Faces are blurred. Voices overlapped. Everything felt like watching a movie through fogged glass.
"I... I can't remember them," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "My classmates... I remember nothing." Her lips trembled as the tears raced down her cheeks, hot and furious.
Sun Woo was beside her, instantly wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
"Don't do this to yourself," he said softly, pulling her into his chest. "You just woke up. It's okay not to remember anything yet."
"But... what if I never do?" Her fingers gripped his shirt tightly, like she was afraid she might disappear too. "What if everything I was, everything I fought for, was just gone?"
"You're still you," he murmured into her hair. "Even without the memories. You're still Hana. "Brave, stubborn, impossible to handle, Hana." He tried to joke, but his voice cracked.
She pulled away slightly to look at him, her eyes glistening. "You think so?"
"I know so." His gaze didn't waver.
She wiped her eyes, frustrated by how helpless she felt. "I feel empty again."
"Don't worry, I'll fill you up," he said gently.
She managed a weak smile, but her heart still felt like it was caught in a storm. Her mind wanted answers, but her body was heavy, exhausted from the effort.
Outside, the rain started again, tapping against the glass like a lullaby.
"I want to sleep," she whispered.
"Sleep?" His brows knitted together. "Not on my watch. Let's go eat, and... you know what? "Let's go wash you up!" He grinned from ear to ear.
"What do you mean 'let's'? Can't I bathe myself? "You pervert!" She tried to rebel, pushing him with what little strength she had left.
"I was just kidding," he chuckled lightly, expressing a bright smile that couldn't hide his feelings. He was extremely worried that Hana might one day lose all her memories. Thinking back, he could vividly remember the doctor saying that it would be very difficult for Hana to recall her memories.
---
Days passed,
Hana blinked awake to soft morning light filtering through the curtain. Her limbs felt heavy, but the muffled voices downstairs pulled her from bed. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she slipped into her slippers and padded down the creaky stairs.
At the bottom, she froze.
Seven boys stood in the entry hall, tall, sharp-eyed, each one carrying a presence that filled the room. At their center stood Sun-Woo, calm and unreadable, as if he'd been waiting for her.
Hana's gaze met his.
He smirked slightly. "You're finally awake."
She stopped mid-step.
Hana's brows drew together. "What's going on?"
Sun-Woo's eyes met hers, unreadable.
"Took you long enough," he said, his voice low. "We've been waiting."
One of the boys chuckled. Another smirked.
Hana stepped fully into the living room, spine straight. Whatever this was, she wasn't backing down.
Sun Woo noticed her puzzled expression, and he could tell that she had forgotten who they were. So, he decided to reintroduce them to her.
"Hey rat!" he said mockingly. "Rat? Me? "You, why would you call me a rat in front of all the visitors?" Her cheeks reddened.
"Vi-visitors? Who are you calling visitors? Was the fall that bad? "Oh my poor baby, you lost your memories again?" One of the boys blurted. Kim Dan.
"Who's your poor baby? And who the fuck are you!! What do you mean, is it bad to lose my memory? You will regret what you just said," she said while approaching him, holding one of her slippers in her right hand.
"Quit making a fuss, he was only worried, and what were you planning to do with those slippers, as short as you are, who do you wanna hit?" He mocked her.
Sun-Woo leaned against the wall, clearly amused as Hana waved her slipper like a weapon. "You still hit like a grandma," he said lazily. "Anyway, since your brain took a vacation, again, let me help you out."
He gestured casually to the group, like a king presenting his court. "These are the guys you've somehow forgotten. Again.
The guy who spoke first, Kim Dan-grinned. "Call me Dan. You used to say I was your favorite, not that I blame you."
"You wish," Hana muttered, eyeing him suspiciously.
Sun-Woo continued, pointing lazily. "That's Minho, he cooks better than he fights. That's Taejin, don't let his baby face fool you, he's probably got a blade hidden somewhere. Junho, Seok, Haru, and Yoohan. A pack of strays, just like you."
Hana blinked. "You call me a rat and then compare yourselves to strays?"
Sun-Woo smirked. "We match your energy."
The room broke into scattered laughter. Hana groaned and turned toward the kitchen.
Sun-Woo followed. "Anyway, you passed out pretty hard last night. Are you feeling better?"
"I am," She paused. "Wait. I did that?"
"Just forget," he brushes it off immediately.
Later that afternoon, the boys gathered their things and left the house for a meeting Sun-Woo called " football." As the door shut behind them, Hana realized only Kim Dan had stayed behind, leaning on the couch like he owned it.
He looked up with a crooked smile. "You and I have some catching up to do, don't you think?"
Hana narrowed her eyes. "Why are you still here?"
Dan shrugged. "Someone should babysit you."
"I don't need babysitting."
"You don't even know who you are," he said, crossing the room. His tone was teasing, but his eyes lingered too long. "I could tell you anything and you'd have to believe me."
He stepped closer, just enough to unsettle her.
"You used to tell me all your secrets," he said softly. "Don't you want to remember?"
Hana's fingers curled slightly. There was something about his voice, casual, almost kind, but laced with something else. Control. Pressure.
"I'd rather get my memories back without help from a creep," she said sharply, stepping back.
Kim Dan chuckled, slow and low. "Suit yourself."
He turned away, but his smirk lingered like a warning.
Dan didn't leave.
Instead, he walked over to the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching her. His eyes tracked her every move, too casual to be friendly, too direct to ignore.
"You're quiet all of a sudden," he said, tilting his head. "Not like you."
"I'm trying not to hit you with my slipper again," Hana replied coolly, rinsing a cup she didn't need to rinse.
Dan chuckled. "You used to be feistier. I liked that about you."
She stiffened slightly, not meeting his gaze.
He stepped forward, just one step, but it shortened the space between them far too much.
"You don't remember me, but I remember you," he murmured. "The way you used to trust me. The way you used to tell me things no one else knew."
She forced a laugh. "You must be confusing me with another girl who didn't know better."
Dan didn't smile this time.
"No, it was you," he said softly, eyes locked on hers. "You had that same fire in your eyes back then, too. But now... It's like watching a match right before it burns out."
He took another step closer. Hana's back pressed lightly against the counter.
His hand reached out, not touching, just hovering a few inches from her arm.
"Do you want help remembering?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Because I can remind you. Everything. The good, the bad... what we were."
Her heart was pounding now, but it wasn't attraction. It was instinct.
Danger.
She met his eyes, forcing steel into her voice. "Step back."
Dan's smile didn't fade, but his eyes flashed with something colder.
"You don't remember me, but you still act the same. That fire," he said, finally stepping away, hands raised in mock surrender. "It's gonna get you in trouble someday."
He turned and walked to the window, parting the curtain just enough to glance outside.
There was something off about Kim Dan.
And she wasn't going to let herself forget it.
The silence stretched between them like a wire, thin, sharp, ready to snap.
Dan leaned against the window frame now, arms crossed, watching the street, but Hana could feel his attention still pinned to her. Like he was waiting. Measuring.
"I don't trust you," she said finally.
"Good," Dan said without looking back. "You never really did. Even when you said you did."
He turned slowly, his eyes tracing her face in a way that made her skin crawl. His expression was unreadable, somewhere between a smirk and a warning.
"You talk like you know me," she said, voice low.
"I do know you." His steps were slow, deliberate, like a predator that didn't need to chase. "Better than anyone. Better than Sun-Woo, who plays the leader. Better than those other idiots who act like you're made of glass."
She backed away slightly, but he didn't stop until they were close again, too close.
"You remember none of it," he murmured, voice sliding over her like velvet with a blade beneath. "But your body does."
Her breath caught. She hated that he saw it.
He leaned in, not touching, his lips just a breath from her ear. "The way you flinch when someone gets too close. The way your eyes watch the exits. That wasn't always instinct. That was a memory. Our memory."
Her fists clenched at her sides. "Get away from me."
But her voice cracked. Just barely.
Dan didn't move at first. He just smiled.
"I missed that fire," he said quietly. "You're always so pretty when you're angry."
Then he stepped back, hands tucked in his pockets, leaving behind a silence heavier than before.
"You can hate me," he said, already turning toward the hall. "You can be afraid of me. Just don't ignore me."
He left the room like a shadow slipping beneath the door, leaving Hana alone with her heart racing, her skin cold, and. the chilling sense that she wasn't just missing memories.
She was missing pieces of herself that she might never want back.
---
A while later, Hana sat stiffly at the small kitchen table, arms crossed, still uneasy.
Kim Dan moved around the kitchen with surprising ease, whistling low under his breath as he set a bowl of steaming rice porridge in front of her. The smell was oddly comforting. Too comforting.
"I didn't poison it," he said casually, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her.
She didn't laugh. Didn't touch the spoon.
Dan raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd waste poison on you?"
Still nothing.
"Eat, Hana. You look like you're about to collapse." His voice dropped, softer. "You haven't had anything since yesterday."
Reluctantly, she took a bite. He watched her too closely, eyes tracking every movement of her spoon, every swallow. She kept her gaze down, pretending not to notice.
When she was nearly done, Dan stood and opened the drawer. He returned with a small bottle of pills and a glass of water.
"Doctor's orders," he said, shaking two out into his palm.
Hana stared. "What are those?"
"You've been taking them for weeks. Memory support, anxiety, whatever. You never asked before."
He held them out.
Something in her stomach twisted. But she took them. Swallowed.
Dan smiled, almost gently, like she was a pet that had finally obeyed.
"Good girl."
The words struck her harder than they should have.
She stood quickly, chair scraping back. "I'm going to lie down."
"Of course," he said, tone easy.
---
Back in her room, she shut the door quietly and locked it.
Her chest felt tight. Her mind, foggy.
She sat on the bed, breathing hard, and reached under her pillow for her phone. It wasn't there. She checked her bag. Her desk. Nothing.
Instead, she spotted something she hadn't seen before, tucked between her mattress and the wall.
A diary.