"Grandfather, we're back!" Yurim's voice echoed from outside.
The old man stepped out at once. His eyes widened when he saw them.
Mira and Rian were soaked from head to toe.
Water dripped from their hair onto the ground, their clothes clinging heavily to their bodies.
Without asking anything, he led them inside.
He handed them clean towels and watched quietly as they dried themselves. Then he frowned slightly.
"Why are they soaked in water?" he asked, his voice calm but concerned.
"Something happened, Grandfather," Mira said quickly, avoiding his eyes. "But it's fine now."
Yurim gently held Mira's arm and guided her toward the room.
Meanwhile, the old man opened an old wooden chest and pulled out a set of clothes. The shirt and pants were clearly too big for Rian.
"They're old, but clean," he said.
Rian took them with a small nod.
"Thank you."
When the old man asked about transport, Rian explained what had happened on the shop. The man listened quietly, then sighed.
"That's unfortunate," he said. "But it should be fixed in a week. Until then, stay here. This house has enough warmth for everyone."
He placed a cup of hot water into Rian's hands.
For a brief moment, Rian felt something unfamiliar — a quiet comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.
---
Inside the room, Yurim gently dried Mira's hair with a towel.
But Mira wasn't really there.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, unfocused.
"Are you okay?" Yurim asked softly.
Mira blinked and looked away. Her mind replayed the moment at the shore — Rian running into danger without hesitation, not caring about himself at all.
No one had ever done that for her.
She suddenly stood up and walked to her closet.
"You can wear anything you want from here," she said, forcing a small smile. "We'll cook together… talk… like real best friends."
Her voice shook slightly.
"Just… don't leave me here alone."
Yurim paused.
She understood. This wasn't about being alone. Mira was scared of losing the people who made her feel seen.
Yurim smiled softly.
"Don't worry," she said quietly. "Even if I go back to my world… I'll remember you as my best friend."
Mira turned and hugged her.
This time, Yurim hugged back without holding anything in.
For the first time in a long while, it felt like belonging.
---
Far away, the same wind brushed against glass walls in the city.
Inside a dim apartment, Yunho paced back and forth. His reflection moved across the tall windows with him.
His father sat on the couch, watching the television.
"Yunho," his father said, tired. "What's wrong with you? You've been walking like this for hours."
Yunho stopped, rubbing his hair.
"No… something feels wrong," he muttered.
"Yunho," his father said again, louder.
"I need to find them," Yunho said finally. "I don't know why, but I feel like they're in danger."
His father sighed. "You're overthinking again. They're probably safer than you are."
Yunho didn't reply. He started stuffing clothes into a bag.
His father grabbed his wrist.
"Yunho, stop this."
Before Yunho could answer, the TV crackled with static.
"Breaking news," the reporter said. "Authorities report sudden violent incidents involving elderly citizens."
"Witnesses say the attackers were once peaceful," the reporter continued, "but are now unstable and unrecognizable."
Grainy footage played—old men and women caught committing the crimes.
The images flashed one by one, and then a familiar face appeared.
"T-this lady…?" Yunho screamed, his eyes widening.
"Do you know her?" his father asked.
"She's the one who helped me that day at the market," Yunho replied shakily. "But now… her face looks unfamiliar—"…just like how Rian's grandmother suddenly changed."
Yunho's eyes widened further, as if the thought made him suspect something terrible.