Episode 12 – The Last Goodbye
The airport was alive with the usual chaos rolling suitcases, announcements echoing through the hall, travelers rushing to catch flights. But to Mira, it all felt muted, distant. She moved with purpose, her dark sunglasses hiding eyes that had carried so many secrets, her black coat swaying as she wheeled her luggage behind her.
"One last move," she whispered to herself, her voice barely audible over the din. "One last escape until everything settles."
She avoided looking at the departure boards too long, knowing every second could be a risk. Her men had warned her, "Mira, you shouldn't be this exposed," but she simply smiled, a dangerous glint in her eyes.
Unknown to her, headquarters had somehow intercepted her plan. Jae Min, at that very moment, sat in his office, staring at a notification blinking red on his screen. "She's leaving… Mira's flight… she's at the airport," he muttered under his breath, his hand shaking slightly as he read the details.
Without thinking, he grabbed his jacket and bolted. The city blurred past him, every traffic light, every honking horn insignificant compared to the urgency pounding in his chest.
Meanwhile, Mira had checked in and walked into the airport hall, taking a brief pause as she adjusted her sunglasses and glanced around. The atmosphere was electric with mundane life, oblivious to the tension she carried.
Suddenly, a deafening crack.
Pain exploded in her back. Mira stumbled, her luggage tumbling, a sharp gasp escaping her lips. She fell to the ground, her hands pressing instinctively against the wound. Warm blood stained her fingers and dripped onto the polished airport floor.
"No… not now…" she murmured, her breath shaky. She reached for the pendant around her neckthe one Jae Min had gifted her long ago. Her fingers clutched it, stained crimson, and a serene smile curved her lips despite the chaos around her.
Passengers screamed, ducked, and ran, but Mira's vision narrowed to that single shining object—the pendant. "At least… this… stays…" she whispered, closing her eyes.
Somewhere far, Jae Min's phone buzzed frantically. He read the news, his heart stopping mid-beat. Without hesitation, he raced through the airport, pushing past crowds, his voice raw with desperation:
"Mira! Mira!"
He skidded to the scene, his eyes widening in horror. There she lay her black dress darkened with blood, yet somehow still dignified, still the queen of his heart. He knelt beside her, trembling, tears streaming down his face.
"No… no, this can't be… Mira!" he screamed, gripping her cold hand. His gaze fell on the ring his gift, still shining on her finger and the pendant, still clutched in her hand.
He sobbed, rocking her gently, as if sheer force of will could bring her back. The sounds of the airport faded into silence around him.
Days passed. Jae Min got promoted recognized for his service, but the honor felt hollow. Every congratulatory handshake, every official title, was a reminder of what he had lost. He became the head of headquarters, yet every decision, every report, every strategy was shadowed by a single thought:
"I couldn't protect her… I couldn't save Mira."
Finally, the weight became unbearable. He resigned. The uniform, the medals, the accolades, they meant nothing without her.
Every day after that, he walked the short path to her cemetery. He would sit by her grave, hands folded over the pendant she had died clutching, whispers of love and regret spilling from his lips.
"I'm sorry, Mira… I'm so sorry," he would murmur. "I should have been there. I should have saved you. You were my heart… and I failed."
The wind rustled the trees, carrying with it a faint echo of her laugh, a memory of warmth that would haunt him forever. Jae Min never stopped coming, never stopped speaking to her, and in that endless ritual of grief, he kept her alive in his heart, the way she had always been, the unreachable, eternal Lunar Rose.