The sterile hum of the hospital room wrapped around Seo-yun like a thick fog as she lay propped against the pale blue pillow. Outside, the afternoon sun filtered softly through the blinds, casting striped shadows on the spotless floor. Her parents hovered near the doorway, whispering in low tones as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace. Her mother's eyes were red-rimmed but bright with hope.
"Seo-yun, the doctors say you'll be able to leave soon, but you'll need to take it slow."
Seo-yun nodded slowly, her mind still swimming in a sea of questions that she didn't quite know how to ask.
"Will I be normal again?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Her father stepped closer, his broad shoulders stoic but his voice gentle. "You'll get better. We'll make sure of that."
Seo-yun's gaze drifted to the small vase of flowers on the windowsill pale pink roses, slightly wilted but stubbornly fragrant.
A sudden question popped unbidden from her lips. "Why do flowers die so fast? Is it because they miss the sun, or because they know they're temporary?"
Her mother blinked, caught off guard by the depth of the question. "Maybe they remind us to appreciate beauty while it lasts."
Seo-yun smiled faintly. "That's sad… but true."
Her father cleared his throat and glanced at the clock on the wall. "You should rest. We're going to take you home tomorrow."
Seo-yun's eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion. "Home… Where is home?"
Her mother exchanged a worried look with her father before answering carefully, "Your home is here, with us. Where you've always lived."
Seo-yun's heart twisted strangely. The room felt foreign, and the faces before her didn't quite fit the memories she was supposed to have. Her best friend, sitting quietly in a chair nearby, leaned forward.
"Seo-yun, do you remember me? I'm Yuna. We've been through everything together."
Seo-yun searched Yuna's face again, her mind fogged with confusion. Instead of answering, she tilted her head and asked, "Do you think people change, or do they stay the same inside?"
Yuna smiled sadly. "We change a little, but some things like friendship stay."
Seo-yun nodded slowly, absorbing the words. Then, with a faint mischievous grin, she asked, "If you could be any animal, what would you be?"
Yuna laughed, the sound brightening the room. "A phoenix, so I could rise again from anything."Seo-yun's smile deepened, but the cloud of uncertainty lingered behind her eyes.
The next day arrived with soft sunlight spilling into the room. Seo-yun's parents and Yuna came to help her get ready to leave the hospital. As they helped her sit up and dress in loose clothes, Seo-yun stared out the window, lost in thought.
"Are we going on an adventure?" she suddenly asked, her eyes sparkling.
Her mother laughed softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Seo-yun's face. "Every day is an adventure, sweetheart."
Seo-yun glanced back at them, her expression shifting. "Will I meet a talking cat?"
Her father shook his head with a smile. "Maybe just a very opinionated one."
Yuna winked. "I'll help you train it."
Seo-yun's laughter rang softly in the room, a fragile but genuine sound. But as they guided her out of the hospital and into the bright afternoon, a quiet worry settled in the hearts of those around her. She seemed… different. Not just because of the accident. Her eyes held a distance, like someone looking out from behind a glass wall, trapped between worlds. And the questions she asked were strange, sometimes offbeat, sometimes profound.
That evening, Seo-yun sat quietly on the couch at home, wrapped in a soft blanket. The house was familiar, but the memories were fragmented, like a half-remembered dream. Her mother set down a cup of tea beside her.
"Do you want to tell us what you remember?" she asked gently.
Seo-yun shook her head slowly. "It's like watching someone else's life."
Her father sighed softly. "You'll get there, Seo-yun. We're here for you."
Seo-yun's eyes focused on a framed photo on the wall, a younger version of herself smiling brightly, standing beside the man whose face haunted her dreams.
"I want to remember him," she whispered.
Her mother sat beside her and squeezed her hand. "We'll help you."
But deep inside, Seo-yun felt a chill. This body, this life, it wasn't quite hers. And the man in the photo, the one she was meant to love… was he even real?