She was beautiful. That was the first thing he noticed. Her beauty was indescribable. No woman could compare. She was a perfect being, so perfect it actually hurt to look at her. But there was something very strange about her, like there was something vaguely familiar about that beauty that he once knew. He watched with awe as she walked in the woods barefooted, like a lost being in the middle of… nowhere, really. Like a lone soul.

“Do you think I’m that stupid, stranger?” And all of a sudden, she turned around and flashed a wide smile. She continued, seeing that he was stunned. “I know you’ve been watching me, stranger. May I know your motives? You’re not going to hurt me are you? Because I’m pretty strong… for a girl.”

He shook his head, and stepped out of the shadows. She looked at him, scrutinizing his every feature. He was mysterious, tall and dark. Handsome, no less. She hopped towards him, gracefully taking steps around him as he watched her a with an amused smile on his face. She registered him as the charismatic stranger. Nodding, she turned around and continued walking, knowing that he’d follow her.

“My name’s Jieun.” Her innocent voice echoed in the eerie silence. The memories came flooding back all of a sudden.

She was his fiancée in their past lives. He remembered now. The woman he’d loved, and promised to love forever. But she’d left him, saying that she wanted to pursue a life of her own, away from him, thinking that he’d tie her down if they got married. It was such a quick decision that he didn’t even have a single moment to react. She left, just like that, but she did write letters when she was in Paris. She wrote them back to Seoul where he stayed. He never got married though, because he couldn’t forget her.

He remembered her last letter. Her last letter before she committed suicide in Paris, apparently she cut herself and bled to death. The words were as follows (the last ones, not the whole letter): If…. in our next lives, Minho, we meet again… Then… I’ll never let you go. When he received the letter, the news of her death came with it, and that killed the last glimmer of hope he had left in him that she’d come back.

He knew that he’d never meet him again, unless, by some fate or destiny, they met in their next life. Or maybe the lives after that, but he didn’t believe in such things… reincarnation, fate, destiny…

“What are you thinking, stranger? You seem so engrossed. Penny for your thoughts?” She asked, appearing beside him, glancing at his face. He looked back at her, then looked up to suppress the sudden tears that he felt like he was about to shed, and at her again. He let out a smile.

“Stop calling me that. The name’s Minho. It’s nice to… meet you.” He extended his hand carefully, waiting to see her reaction.

“You seem strangely familiar, Minho. Do I know you from somewhere?” She asked curiously, shaking his hand and looking at him closely, as if it was the first time she’d seen a man.

He thought for a moment, wondering how exactly he should reply to her question. Tell her everything, and risk their friendship (which could possibly blossom into something more), or leave her in the dark (and possibly never let her find out). He hesitated, shifting his weight from one leg to another before shaking his head.

“… I’m afraid not, Jieun. We’ve… I’ve never met you before.”