Seungho’s eyes soften, and he can’t help but wonder what kind of sorrow made her want to turn into smoke that no one can hurt. “That kind of existence… isn’t it lonely?” he asks her, keeping his voice low, so low, that she might have not heard it over the loud music.  She doesn't answer his question. Whether it’s because she doesn’t hear, or because she doesn’t want to, he will never know…