We believe we're running from who we are, but sometimes, it's our own light that finds us again.
It was 6:30 a.m.
The steady sound of the shower echoed through the almost too-perfect stillness of the apartment. Inside, everything felt motionless, orderly, silent ,frozen in a cold, immaculate aesthetic.Everything… except him.
Junwoo stood beneath the burning water, eyes closed, jaw clenched.
His back was tense, as if carrying a weight no one else could see.
His hair, slicked against his forehead, followed the path of the droplets sliding down his skin.
And in that warm haze, an image crossed his mind:
Harin's gaze, suspended in the white light of the gallery.
He inhaled slowly. Painfully.
He stepped out of the bathroom without a word, dried himself mechanically, buttoned a white shirt over still-damp skin, and slipped into black trousers.
Everything about him looked precise, measured, perfect.
Everything… except his eyes.
His stare was distant.
He looked at his untouched cup of coffee.
"I don't even know her name.
But ever since that night… I can't stop looking for her.
Every gallery. Every opening.
As if my soul knows we've missed each other before… once."
Through the alleys of Insadong, his steps carried him relentlessly.
White storefronts, paintings, shadows, colors, nothing escaped him.
He entered, exited, scanned.
Always searching for that face, that gaze, that familiar absence.
"Maybe I'm chasing a ghost.
A fallen star.
But there was something in her…
something that shone brighter than the rest of the world."
That evening, the air was crisp along the Han River.
Seoul's lights stretched across the dark water like blurred memories.
Harin walked slowly, wrapped in a long black coat.
Beside her, Jahoon walked in silence, offering company without pressure.
They didn't need words.
"Do you want to walk a little more?" he asked softly.
"Just a little. I love the night breeze."
He nodded with a faint smile.
His phone vibrated. He stepped away to take the call.
Harin stopped at the edge of the river.
The sky felt empty. The water stretched endlessly, dark and unreachable.
The streetlamps cast a pale light over her calm but distant face.
"I promised myself I wouldn't reach out again.
Since that day in high school…
I learned to walk alone.
Not to escape the world,
but to keep it from discovering what it destroyed in me."
Memories surfaced.
A bag of apples rolling on the ground. She passed without a word.
A child falling. She hesitated. Her feet did not stop.
Her hands remained crossed.
Closed.
Protective.
"I convinced myself my kindness was poison.
That reaching out was offering myself to the bite.
So I learned to say no.
Even to silence.
Even to myself."
A sudden movement.
A small boy played too close to the ledge.
His laughter rang out… then a slip.
He fell forward.
Time froze.
Harin ran.
Her arms shot forward.
Her breath stopped.
She caught him. Just in time.
The boy hung suspended above the drop.
Her hands trembled.
But he… he smiled.
"You can't run from who you are."
Her eyes widened. Her lips parted.
She tried to speak. Nothing came out.
"Even when you turn your back on your own light, it still runs through your veins," he whispered.
His voice was calm. Almost gentle.
"Don't let a cruel soul steal the beauty inside you, Harin.
You're a flower… even wounded.
And flowers always bloom again."
A tear rolled down her cheek.
She reached out to hold on to him.
But he wasn't there.
No fall.
No cry.
Nothing.
Just emptiness.
As if he had evaporated.
She stayed frozen, arm suspended in the air, breath gone, gaze lost on the water.
Jahoon finished his call and scanned the riverside.
Then he saw her.
Bent forward.
Still.
Far too close to the edge.
"HARIN!"
He ran.
The ground seemed to disappear under him.
Each step tore at his heart.
He reached out.
But the world slowed.
Everything blurred.
"I didn't want to reach out.
I didn't want to save anyone.
But in that moment… I understood:
It wasn't a decision.
It was instinct.
Because no matter what…
I'm still the one who reaches out."
A shiver. A scream. Two bodies falling.
The water swallowing the impact.
A broken breath.
Two destinies entangled…