Hanna stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind her. Lavender and citrus lingered faintly in the air. But not her lavender.
A woman appeared from the hallway, shocked. "You…?!"
Hanna looked around. Her voice was low. "Lavender… Pink bag…" Her gaze snapped to Ryun. Everything made sense.
The other woman moved closer, voice tense. "What happened, Ryun? Explain."
Hanna's voice was flat, cold. "He doesn't need to. Looks like he brought his 'cheater' character to life."
The woman blinked hard. Tears began forming as she sat down slowly, her voice breaking. "So… all the rumors were real? How many women did you play?"
A bitter smile curved on Hanna's lips. "You cheated with me? For someone like her?" She scoffed quietly. "I wasn't that perfect like you said, huh? Was two years just one big game?"
"I've… been with him for three years," the woman said suddenly, her voice cracking.
Hanna's eyes widened. "Three years?" Her voice wavered. "Wait…so I was the third wheel?!"
Ryun panicked, stepping forward with hands raised. "Stop…just stop! I didn't mean to…this was a mistake…I…" He dropped to his knees. "I'm sorry. I swear, I didn't want to hurt anyone…!"
CRACK.
Hanna's fist collided with his jaw. Ryun stumbled back, stunned.
The woman gasped, tears now falling freely. "…Wow."
Hanna stormed into the bedroom. Moments later, she emerged with a small bag of her things. Ryun still stood near the door, dazed. As she passed him, she stopped. Turned back. "I was about to give you one more punch…" she said, voice chillingly calm.
Ryun flinched. She smirked faintly. "But you're not even worth it."
The door slammed behind her. The woman stood still, wiping her tears silently.
"You should've known… after three years, I'd see through you eventually." She grabbed her pink bag. Ryun tried to step toward her.
"Don't go. You were with me the longest…she was just…"
"A distraction? A joke?" Her voice sliced through his. She raised her hand slightly, as if to slap him. Ryun closed his eyes in shame. But the slap never came.
She smiled with poison sweetness, admiring her freshly done, expensive nails. "Oh no… I'm not ruining these on you. They cost more than your dignity."
With one last toss of her hair, she turned and walked out.
Slam.
Ryun stood alone in silence. The echo of her heels disappeared down the hall. And all that remained… was the rain.
Now—
The flashback fades. Rain drums steadily on the car roof as Hanna sits silently in the passenger seat, soaked hair clinging to her cheeks, her eyes red from unshed tears. The car wipers move in rhythm with the heavy downpour outside.
Junho glanced at her, worried. He kept his tone light, trying to ease the tension. "You want me to hunt him down and teach him a lesson?"
Hanna let out a bitter chuckle, her lips curling, but her voice was laced with hurt. "I can't waste another second of my time on someone like him."
Junho nodded slowly, gripping the steering wheel tighter. The silence between them stretched, heavier than before.
"Do you think you could erase him from my memory… this time?" Hanna asked, staring ahead, her voice trembling just enough to betray her.
Junho turned to her. Their eyes met. Her vulnerability slammed into him without warning. He didn't answer. Just looked back at the road, jaw clenched, focus forced, something in him quietly breaking.
"Don't worry," Hanna added with a faint smile. "I was just asking. I wouldn't want you bleeding again because of me."
Junho didn't reply, but his hands tightened around the wheel. He remembered. Deleting memories wasn't like reading them. Reading was effortless…just a glance, a touch, and the floodgates opened. But deleting… that was a wound. It burned through his head like fire, left his nose bleeding, sometimes worse. The more emotional the memory, the deeper the toll. Because to remove a memory was to replace it with silence and silence was never clean. It wasn't just their pain anymore. It became his.
The car slowed to a stop in front of her building. The rain had ceased. The streets shimmered faintly under the quiet light. Junho stepped out and walked around to open her door. Streetlight caught her tired, rain-dried face. She looked up, slowly.
"Are you really okay?" Junho asked, his voice soft, careful.
"What if I said I'm not?" she murmured with a weak smirk, her eyes glassy. "Will you stay with me tonight?"
He hesitated. His gaze didn't leave hers. Not out of pity, but something heavier, weightier. After a moment, he looked away. His voice lowered, quiet but honest.
"I never thought I'd be the one who could heal your broken heart."
The words hit Hanna deeper than she expected. Her breath caught. She turned her head away slightly, lips pressed together. Then, barely audible. "I wish you hadn't said that."
Her eyes fixed forward. "Tonight, you saw all my weakness… and you didn't even need to take off your glasses." Her smile turned bitter.
"You probably think I'm foolish. That I should've just accepted your love when you offered it."
Junho opened his mouth, ready to respond…then his phone buzzed. The screen lit up.
He sighed and answered. "Daejin?"
"Mr. Kang, did you reach home yet?" came Daejin's voice through the speaker. "There's something urgent in the email from the Kyoto team. You need to see it."
Junho's jaw tightened. He glanced at Hanna, heart caught in two places. After ending the call, he tucked the phone away and turned back to her. "I should go. You should rest too. Don't overthink tonight."
Hanna nodded slowly, eyes downcast. She knew. But still, something inside her wished he'd stay.
As Junho opened his door, he felt a sudden grip on his wrist.
"Wait," Hanna whispered, her voice trembling. "I saw you."
He turned, surprised. Their eyes met. He didn't speak, just waited.
"I saw the way you looked at her," she said. "It's the same way you used to look at me… back when you asked for my heart."
The silence between them grew thick. Junho's gaze dropped for a second, then lifted again. He exhaled slowly, his smirk faint.
"You were probably too emotional to see clearly back then." He paused, then added, "Sleep well, Hannasshi."
He gently pulled his wrist free, brushing her shoulder softly before stepping back. Without another word, he got into the car and drove off, leaving Hanna standing under the dim lights. Her heart, quietly unraveling. The city shimmered beyond.
Rain drizzled lightly across Seoul's night roads. Streetlights blurred through Seri's windshield as she drove in silence, hands steady on the wheel. Only the soft hum of tires filled the car.
Her mind replayed the scene again. Hanna in the pantry doorway, soaked and disheveled, eyes brimming. Junho, frozen. Torn.
Seri clenched her jaw lightly, the weight in her chest harder to ignore. "What… even happened to her?" she whispered to herself.
Her fingers drummed against the wheel at a red light. She remembered the way Junho had looked at Hanna. Concern. Guilt. Something unspoken.
Seri exhaled slowly. She wasn't supposed to care. She wasn't supposed to feel. This was never personal. But the image stayed with her.
She turned the wheel again. Her car moved forward. Her thoughts, still behind.
Morning light slipped through Hanna's curtains. She lay curled beneath her blanket, still in last night's silk dress. Mascara stained faintly under her eyes.
The phone buzzed again.
10 missed calls from Ryun.
Then a message
Hanna, please talk to me. I'm sorry. Please…
And more followed. Dozens. All the same.
Messages she didn't want to read.
Didn't want to open.
Didn't want to feel.
She turned the phone off. Tossed it aside. Buried her face deeper into the pillow. Not today. No cameras. No spotlight. Just sleep.
Just silence.
Meanwhile, In a quiet park, Seri ran along a mist-covered trail. Her ponytail swayed with each stride. No earbuds. No music. Just her breathing, steady and strong.
She stopped in a clearing where no one would pass by. After a glance around, she exhaled and shifted into form. Her stance firm. Her body moved in martial rhythm…precise strikes, fluid blocks. A blend of grace and discipline. A dance between memory and survival.
It wasn't just training. It was control. She finished with a firm palm strike and lowered her arms, breathing steady.
"Still sharp," she muttered to herself.
Then she ran again, this time toward the lake's edge. The water was still. Her eyes narrowed. Her breath deepened. Only a few days left.
No room for distraction now.
Morning sun streamed into Junho's penthouse kitchen. He moved casually in his grey sweatshirt and loose slacks, cracking open an energy drink before dialing his assistant.
"Daejin?"
"Yes, Mr. Kang. Good morning."
"I read the Kyoto email. Confirm…Jalan Group's gala is at that estate in Arashiyama?"
"Yes, sir. The Arashiyama Imperial Pavilion. By-invitation only. Tech elites, cultural reps. Major coverage."
Junho took a thoughtful sip. "So it's more than the Baekdu Project."
"You'll be representing Kang Corp. Big stage."
Junho straightened his back. CEO mode activated. "Prep the team. Seri's unit handles optics. I want every angle covered."
"Yes, sir."
He hung up and glanced at the open files on his counter.
"Kyoto, huh…" he murmured.
But something still pulled at him. Something about Seri. Something about the night before.
Junho sighed and opened his fridge again. Dozens of energy drinks stared back.
"Well," he muttered, "it's officially Grocery Day."
He grabbed his keys.
"Or I grow wings from taurine overdose."