“Do I really have to call you Lina?” Lina asked, staring at the woman in front of her.

Her eyes wandered around the place before she added, “Wasn’t it dark just a moment ago? Why does it look so bright now… Where are we anyway?”

The woman smiled softly. “I don’t think you’ll need a chair. Our conversation won’t last long.” She paused playfully. “As for what you should call me… how about Sister Lina? Ahh, that sounds wonderful. Go on — call me sister.”

She looked at her with visible excitement.

Lina, however, wore a confused expression — as if silently asking, what is wrong with this lunatic?

Then she smiled faintly. “Sister? I have no desire to call you that. I’ll call you Old Lady instead. You’re quite aged after all.”

The woman burst into laughter. “Anything coming from myself is acceptable. Very well — I am Old Lady Lina.”

She straightened her posture slightly and asked, “Do you still feel lonely?”

She watched Lina carefully as Lina placed her hands behind her back, swaying lightly.

“Lonely? So that’s how you figured it out?” Lina replied. “Forget that. Why are we here anyway? What does my own self want from me?”

She stared at the version of herself standing before her.

They looked identical. Same features. A slight difference in height. Same haircut. Same sharp brown eyes — bright… yet their smiles were different.

“Hmm… what do I want from myself, I wonder?” the older Lina murmured.

She stepped closer. Stood silently in front of her younger self. Then gently brushed her hair.

“It feels nice to stroke my own hair like this. I like being kind to myself. May I hug you?”

Experiences differ as people grow older. Yet strangely… the older they become, the more childlike they grow. Inside every elderly soul lives a child unafraid to appear. But children are often afraid to look like children in front of adults.

Except when facing themselves.

“I want to hug my old self too,” Lina said, opening her arms.

They embraced.

Same scent. Same person. But not the same awareness.

They pulled away slowly and looked at each other… smiling.

Deep inside, both realized something.

“To show you the right path…” the older one began.

Lina frowned. “Hmm? Who showed you the right path then?”

The older Lina smiled almost childishly. “No one.”

Lina blinked in disbelief. “Then why should you show me something no one showed you?”

“Because I found better,” she replied softly. “I reached something better.”

Lina stared at her for a long moment. “Congratulations. You achieved something. What comes next?”

The older Lina smiled. “I’m no longer alone.”

Silence lingered.

“So you think I’m lonely — and that’s why you’re here?”

Another pause.

“Ah… so the boy with the brown eyes is the reason.”

They smiled at the same time.

“Because he was lonely too,” the older Lina said quietly. “And so was I.”

She began stepping backward, slowly distancing herself.

“They’re your experiences… your life… your loneliness,” Lina said. “It has nothing to do with me. I’m tired…”

The more she spoke, the harder it became to form words — as if something was tightening around her throat.

She tried to step forward, but fell to the ground, as though something was gripping her ankles.

Then she jolted awake.

Her hand clutched her neck as her heart pounded violently. She sat upright in her bed, strands of hair covering her face.

“What was that… again?” she whispered, staring intensely at the wall of her room.