Okay bestie, I got you—this is deep and emotional, and the twist you've planne
Hana stared at the boy standing at Joonseo's grave.
The wind toyed with his black hair, and even from a distance, there was something hauntingly familiar about him. His posture. His presence. The way he didn't cry, just… stood there, like his silence was louder than grief.
She stepped closer, cautiously.
"Did you know him?" she asked.
The boy looked at her. His eyes—dark and sharp—held something unreadable. "I did," he replied simply.
His voice wasn't soft, but it wasn't harsh either. It was practiced. Controlled. Like someone who had learned not to show too much.
Hana's heart thumped. "Were you friends?"
A pause.
"No," he said, then added, "But I should've been."
Before she could ask what that meant, he gave her a small nod, almost like a goodbye, and turned to walk away. As he passed, she caught a whiff of something cold and expensive—like rain and cologne.
He didn't look back.
Hana stood frozen, her mind racing.
Who was that?
Later That Night
Hana couldn't stop thinking about him.
She pulled out her phone, trying to find a match for his face. Nothing. No social media profile. No student record she could access. He was a ghost.
But something told her this wasn't just some grieving stranger.
She opened Joonseo's diary again, flipping through the pages. The handwriting wavered in places, like he was shaking when he wrote.
Then, something caught her eye. A line she hadn't noticed before, scribbled faintly in a margin:
"Sometimes I feel like… I'm missing a part of myself. Like there's someone out there I used to know. But I don't remember who. Or why."
Her breath hitched.
What if Joonseo did know him once? But forgot?
Meanwhile — Somewhere in Seoul
Kim Seojun stared out the window of a luxury car as the city blurred past.
His reflection in the glass stared back—calm, emotionless.
Beside him, his adoptive mother scrolled through her phone, not sparing him a glance.
"You'll attend the company board meeting tomorrow. Be presentable. No distractions," she said.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied automatically.
It had always been like this.
He was the perfect heir. Not because he wanted to be—but because he had no other choice. The moment he was adopted, his life had become a checklist of expectations. Etiquette, grades, achievements, control.
But tonight, something had broken through that perfect shell.
Joonseo's grave.
And her—Hana.
He remembered the orphanage. The cold nights. The way his younger brother—yes, brother—used to hold his hand when he cried. They were just kids. Two halves of the same whole. Until they were torn apart.
And Joonseo forgot.
Seojun never did.
The only person who knew their truth besides him was the orphanage manager—a woman who'd retired years ago. She'd made him promise never to tell Joonseo unless he remembered on his own.
But now… Joonseo was gone.
Next day
The garden behind the old library was silent, wrapped in a veil of wind and memory. Hana stared at the boy in front of her—the one with Joonseo's face, but colder. More guarded.
"Who… are you?" she asked, her voice trembling.
The boy stepped into the light.
"I'm Kim Seojun," he said. "Joonseo's older twin."
Hana felt the ground sway. "That's not possible… he never—"
"He didn't know," Seojun cut in. "We were separated at the orphanage. He was adopted by a kind family. I wasn't so lucky."
He paused. His eyes, distant but sharp, locked with hers.
"He forgot everything after the accident. But I remembered. Every. Single. Thing."
Hana swallowed the lump in her throat. "He was… killed. By someone called K."
Seojun's jaw clenched. "K isn't a person."
"What?"
"It's an association. Secretive. Ruthless. And it's not done yet."
Her chest tightened. "How do you know all this?"
"I can't tell you everything," he said quietly. "But I know this—now that you know about K, someday… you'll be a target too."
For a second, fear flared in her chest. But it didn't last long.
"Then help me," she said. "Help me find your brother's killer. Help me save others before it's too late."
Seojun looked at her, and for the first time in years… he nodded. "I will."
Later that night
In a rundown café on the edge of the city, they met under flickering lights.
Hana had brought Jungho, just like they planned.
"This is Seojun," she said. "Joonseo's twin brother."
Jungho's face froze in shock, but he nodded with quiet understanding. "I'm Jungho. Joonseo's best friend."
They exchanged short glances. No words needed to be said.
But Seojun's attention suddenly sharpened.
He stepped toward Jungho. "You didn't come here alone, did you?"
Jungho raised an eyebrow. "No. Why?"
Seojun's voice dropped. "Because someone followed you."
Jungho turned toward the cracked window. A black car sat in the distance—too far to be casual, too close to be safe.
"You have bodyguards?" Seojun asked.
Jungho slowly shook his head.
"Then that's not your ride," Seojun muttered.
Hana stepped beside them, eyes wide.
"You think it's…"
Seojun nodded, jaw tight. "It's K. They're watching us now."
All three went still.
A chill passed through the room, but it wasn't just the cold.
It was the realization—the hunt had already begun.