The transcript of a letter addressed to a Korean soldier, written in 1944.

You trusted him, despite only meeting him a mere eleven hours ago. Strangely, he gave you a sense of comfort, a sense of security. "This may sound really stupid," you begin as you stepped closer to him; a bold move to make considering how nervous you were, "but I feel like I've known you my whole life."

"Good morning," a melodious voice greets you. You spot a young man behind the counter, a cute smile on his face as he watches you approach him. He presents a flower to you in his outstretched hand. Your face grows hot, and you can only blink in confusion.