The next day, Yoorin went searching.
Not just in the real world—but everywhere else too.
She visited the antique bookstore again, only to find it boarded up. No trace of the woman. No sign the shop had ever existed.
She checked libraries, forums, even old university records. The name Seo Seon-hwan didn't appear anywhere—not in any known registry, publication, or archive.
She typed the name into every database she could find.
Nothing.
Until she reversed it.
Hwan Seon Seo
One result.
An obituary, dated 1913.
The photo was aged, yellowing. But she recognized the eyes.
The entry was brief:
Young writer, deceased tragically in a fire. Unpublished manuscript discovered near the body, its pages untouched by flame.
She stared at the screen for a long time, her breath shallow.
The fire. The manuscript.Could it be… the very book she held?
A realization crept over her.
He died waiting for someone who never returned.
Suddenly, her own name on the screen glitched.
It blinked.
Then changed.
For a moment, just a flicker, it read:
Han Yoorin – Deceased, 1913.
She jerked away from the screen.
Her phone buzzed.
It was a message from a contact she didn't remember saving. No profile picture. Just the name: S.
Meet me where the ink first touched the water.
That night, she followed instinct—not reason.
She walked past the city lights, past curfews and closed cafes, and into the old district. The one with willow trees. The one where the river whispered things she didn't want to hear.
At the stone bridge, she stopped.
He was there.
Seon.
Or someone like him.
This version wore a long coat, his hair longer, his face paler. The wind carried the scent of old paper and rain.
He didn't speak.
He handed her a notebook.
Inside was a single line:
If your name disappears again, will you remember me without it?
She looked up, ready to ask—but he was already fading, as if the night itself had grown tired of holding his shape.
She clutched the notebook and whispered:
"I will remember you. Name or not."
Behind her, the river sang her name in a voice older than memory.