Nari and Minho stood in silence, the unsettling encounter with the elderly man still hanging heavily in the air. The tension between them was palpable, until Nari finally spoke, her voice breaking the silence. "Do you know him, Minho?"

Minho's eyes flickered away, his expression betraying no emotion as he quickly answered, "No." The lie felt like a weight between them.

Without another word, Minho hastily booked a cab for Nari, his actions too hurried, too dismissive. As she stepped into the car, Nari's mind raced, replaying the encounter. There was something familiar about that man—something Nari couldn't place, but it gnawed at her.

The next morning, the knock on her door came with a jolt. Nari opened it to find Minho standing there, a suitcase in hand, dressed in a garish Hawaiian shirt. The absurdity of his outfit momentarily lifted her mood. "Minho, what's with the outfit?" she asked, her voice tinged with confusion.

He grinned, his smile wide but oddly strained. "We're going on a memorable trip."

Hours later, the plane touched down in Seoul, and as they disembarked, Nari felt a wave of emotion rush over her. "Seoul," she murmured. "I've returned."

The city was alive with its unique blend of modernity and history. They checked into a cozy hotel that reeked of old-world charm, the creaky floors and vintage furnishings adding to the mystique. After a brief rest, they ventured out to explore, eventually finding a traditional restaurant that looked like it belonged to another era.

"I'll order something special," Minho said, disappearing into the crowd to speak with the waiter. Left alone, Nari found herself drawn to the restaurant's eclectic decor—aged wood, dim lighting, and framed photographs from a time long past.

One photo caught her eye—a family portrait, worn with age, the edges frayed and torn. As she leaned in closer, her breath hitched. The girl in the photo was unmistakably her. But there was something wrong—one half of the image had been ripped away, as though someone wanted to erase her very existence from it.

Her fingers tracing the torn edges. Her heart began to race.

Minho returned to her side, but he looked distracted, as though his mind was elsewhere. Nari's mind, however, was racing. What was going on?

The truth was coming for her, and she wasn't sure she was ready to face it.