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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2 – The Man from Her Dreams

The rain had stopped by morning, but the sky remained pale and watchful, as if waiting for something unspoken.

Ha-ein stood in front of the mirror in the small studio apartment above Ji-na's soon-to-be restaurant. She had barely slept. Not because of jet lag — but because of the dream.

He was there again.

Not just his voice or shadow — this time, she saw his face.

Clear. So real it made her chest ache when she opened her eyes.

He had said her name. Not just "Ha-ein." A different name.

One she didn't recognize, but somehow… knew.

She pressed her hand to her heart.

— "Why does it feel like I've known you for lifetimes?" — she whispered, to no one.

---

Downstairs, Ji-na was already making a mess in the kitchen. Flour on her cheek, eggshells on the floor, music playing like it was a good day.

— "Did the ghost of your mystery man visit again?" — she teased, handing Ha-ein a slice of burnt toast.

— "Yes," Ha-ein replied without a smile. "And this time, I saw his eyes."

Ji-na paused, serious now.

— "Was it… comforting? Or scary?"

Ha-ein took a breath.

— "Both."

---

Later that day, they walked to the local market for supplies. The air in Busan felt different — alive, heavy with salt and something older. Memories, maybe.

As they passed a small clinic, Ha-ein stopped.

A man stood outside the building, talking to an elderly patient.

He wore a navy blue coat, his expression soft and focused.

Something inside her pulled.

— "Do you know him?" — Ji-na asked, noticing her stillness.

— "No. I…" — Ha-ein's words faded.

The man looked up.

Their eyes met.

Time stilled.

Not because of attraction. But because in that instant, something deep inside her shifted — as if the ground beneath her heart had moved.

The man blinked, and a polite smile crossed his lips.

He bowed slightly, then entered the clinic.

Ha-ein didn't move.

Ji-na watched her closely.

— "You've seen him before, haven't you?"

— "Only in my dreams," Ha-ein whispered.

---

That night, she couldn't paint.

Not because she lacked ideas — but because too many memories that weren't hers filled her mind.

Hands reaching through fire. Tears in a temple. A name carved in stone.

And him. Always him.

But now… he had a face. And it wasn't from another life anymore.

He was real. In Busan. Alive.

And something told her… their story hadn't even begun yet.

---

[END OF CHAPTER 2]

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