Lovely chapter image from Imbyul <3

There was uncertainty in his eyes; he was obviously having a hard time wrapping his head around the situation, but Ha-Jin understood his ordeal. It’s only been a few days.

Naturally, he wasn’t in the best state.

There was much intensity in his gaze as his eyes stared directly at the object in his hands. She could see he was trying to remember the significance, but to no avail. His eyes, however, were transfixed at the solitary hairpin resting in his hands.

He looked at her.

“So…all these dreams,” he began, “They’re not just dreams. These are actual…memories.”

“Yes.”

“Memories from my life as…Wang…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it; his tormented eyes said it all. He took a deep breath.

“My life as the Fourth Prince,” he concluded.

He said it with lack of certainty, but his tone was also acknowledging. She knew he had a hard time accepting it but he was still looking for answers. As previously revealed, he had been seeing and experiencing things that didn’t make sense; it was only natural for him to ask.

The more pressing question, however, was if he was ready to accept the answers.

They sat in silence in front of the presenter’s home. The garden was a calming sight; Ha-Jin hoped he would focus on the flowers or the butterflies instead. Lord knows Jae-Yeong deserved some peace of mind.

The door opened and the presenter stepped out.

“Are you ready?” he asked them both.

Jae-Yeong’s uncertainty was becoming more obvious, but he couldn’t deny what was happening to him. He was still gazing at the hairpin intently. His big hands closed, enclosing the hairpin, as well and he stood up.

Jae-Yeong nodded and took Ha-Jin’s hand to pull her up. Together, they walked towards the presenter’s front door, but not before she heard a Click!

--

The hairpin, as it turns out, was a replica of the hair pin she wore when she was Hae Soo. The investors who had gifted that (among other Goryeo-inspired items) had their researchers provide them with gift ideas. Until now, Ha-Jin wondered how they came across that design.

Still, it didn’t matter. Whatever the answer was, they held a hairpin strikingly similar to the one So got for his mother.

It was also proof that life was playing some sort of trick.  

As they walked up the grand staircase, Jae-Yeong led her up, tightly holding her hand. She could feel the coldness of his skin, indicating that he wasn’t in good condition. Her head went back to that time she told him about his past life.

She didn’t stutter anymore—she said it all in one blow.

--

(Two Days Ago)

One tear led to another, but Jae-Yeong was not full-on sobbing. From the look on his face, it was evident he couldn’t understand why he was crying. His hands touched his cheeks, surprised at the stream of tears.

“What did you say?” he asked her.

Unlike Jae-Yeong, Ha-Jin’s tears meant something. A small hair ornament was enough to provoke flashes of memories—how she was beaten and accused of stealing, how she promised not to wait for him, how she touched it wistfully while she waited for him at the prayer tower—all of them came back at once.

Memories of him—meaning, Wang So.

“Ha-Jinah,” he said again, “What did you say?”

She looked at him through her blurred mirage of tears. His eyes were no longer watery, but his cheeks were stained with tears.

“Your memories, your trances…your dreams,” she began, “They mean something.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Brushing away her tears, she held his hand, the one holding on to the pin.

“Jae-Yeongah…you’re not who you think you are,” she said, “There’s more to you than what you know.”

“Ha-Jinah, I don’t understand.”

She took another deep breath.

“You’re not just Hwang Jae-Yeong,” she said, “You’re also…Wang So, the Fourth Prince of Goryeo.”

“You’re Emperor Gwangjong.”

Mixed emotions registered on his face. First, it was confusion; he couldn’t talk properly. He mumbled, made sounds of disbelief, and asked cut questions. Eventually, she saw some curiosity and an expression that said what she claimed must’ve made sense. Finally, everything concluded to a blank.

He said nothing more.

Ha-Jin remembered that Jae-Yeong was rejecting the advances of his past life, which made his acceptance none the easier. He looked at her and she saw that he wanted answers.

“How do you know this?” he asked.

She had to be honest with him.

“That’s because I’m Court Lady Hae Soo.”

--

“…court lady Hae Soo, who was part of the Hae family, who’s cousin married the 8^th Prince, Wang Wook.”

She watched as Jae-Yeong listened intently to Ji-Hyun, who was re-telling his first lifetime, complete with the intricate details. Ha-Jin could’ve done it herself, but she figured the presenter was the best person for the job.

The presenter handed him an aging portrait. Ha-Jin peeked from behind his shoulder and saw all eight brothers plus their parents and their sister Yeon-Hwa, painted in detail. It was one of the family gatherings, which depicted the family drinking tea. Ha-Jin faintly remembered serving tea to the family; she also remembers feeling off with Wang So that day.

But she couldn’t remember the rest.

“This…this is my family?” asked Jae-Yeong.

“Yes, that was your family,” corrected Ji-Hyun, “It’s strange that you don’t recognize them when you’ve painted them with such detail before. They must probably have slipped once you’ve expressed your thoughts on a canvass.”

Jae-Yeong’s fingers caressed the faces on the almost torn paper. Ha-Jin wondered if he realized some of his family members today actually look like the people on the painting. But he was too busy looking at them, probably trying to make sense.

“I have…eight brothers,” he said.

“Yes, you were the fourth,” explained the presenter, “Your mother was Queen Yoo; full brothers were Third Prince Wang Yo and 14^th Prince Wang Jung; half-siblings include Wang Mu, Wang Wook, Wang Won, Wang Eun, and Wang Baek-Ah. At a young age, you were sent to Khitan to train under General Park, who taught you majority of your martial arts.”

“At the age of 25, you also ascended the throne and became the fourth king of Goryeo—popularly known as Emperor Gwangjong.”

He was quiet again.

“I…was a king?”

“One of the most popular,” said Ji-Hyun, taking away the family painting and handing him a smaller image of Gwangjong sitting on his throne, “Now that I look into it, I can see the physical similarities.”

Jae-Yeong gazed at his past incarnation intently, then glanced at himself in the mirror in front. Could he also see the similarities Ji-Hyun was talking about? He was studying his facial features and applying them to the deceased king.

For Ha-Jin, he was a dead ringer.

It took a minute before Jae-Yeong broke into his senses and suddenly placed the paper on the table. His confusion was back.

“I don’t understand why this is happening,” he said, “So…these images in my head and my reactions…these are signs of my past life trying to…get the best of me?”

“More of trying to make itself known.”

“But why?”

His voice sounded indignant.

“What do you mean ‘Why?’”

He stood up. “Why does it want to make itself known? Isn’t it a past life for a reason?” he asked, “Why is it bothering me?”

Ji-Hyun and Ha-Jin did not miss the hint of annoyance in Jae-Yeong’s voice. Clearly, he was frustrated.

“Well, a soul reincarnates when it has to correct certain aspects in its life,” gently explained the senior, “In your case, it seems as if the late Emperor had plenty of unfinished businesses, which calls for a second chance. The reason why your past memories are resurfacing, however, remains unclear. But we think it’s one of life’s greatest purposes.”

“I get that, but why now? I’m dealing with a lot of bull right now; why does it have to happen now?” complained Jae-Yeong, “If life is trying to achieve the greater good, why is it so hard for me?”

Ji-Hyun looked at Ha-Jin and she immediately understood.

This was rejection at its finest.

“Do not worry Jae-Yeong, you’re not the only one dealing with it anyway,” said Ji-Hyun.

“What?”

Ji-Hyun nodded his head towards Ha-Jin’s direction.

“I’m sure she has told you her side of the tale,” he said.

Looking at her, Ha-Jin saw that Jae-Yeong’s frustrated expression softened. She remembered how he was torn between doubt and acceptance when she told him her story as Hae Soo. She wasn’t sure if he fully took it by heart.

But he didn’t question her either.

“Jae-Yeong,” began the presenter, “I know it’s difficult but I think that slowly accepting who you were is the key to silence, as well as some ideas on your next step. It seems ridiculous, I understand, but slowly embracing who you were as Wang So might be essential in improving your life quality. After all, those memories and manifestations aren’t just nothing.”

He thought about it.

“If I get around accepting it, will it all stop?” he asked, “Will the headaches, dreams, and all those things stop?”

“There is no assurance, but I can say it will be better,” said Ji-Hyun, “Look at Ha-Jinah; she’s better.”

Again, he looked at her.

“I…I just…I’m trying to wrap my head around it,” he confessed, “I get that something weird is happening and this could be the reason why. But…I’m really finding it hard. I know these images in my head…they’re not normal.”

“And we’re here to help you,” answered Ji-Hyun, “Especially Ha-Jinah. She’s the one who has been going through the same ordeal for a year. She’ll be here for you.”

The presenter’s phone then rang. He looked at the screen and excused himself from the room, looking at Ha-Jin meaningfully before exiting. The door closed behind them, leaving her staring at Jae-Yeong, whose eyes were back at the pin again.

She didn’t know what to say to him. He hasn’t been himself for the past two days and unfortunately, it wasn’t just her or Ji-Hyun who noticed. The press and the company were noticing the change in the once aggressive Hwang Jae-Yeong.

Lately, he has been confused and easily distracted.

She approached him cautiously, standing inches behind him. He was still fascinated with the hairpin. Ha-Jin took the time to also re-connect with her beloved hair pin, albeit it was only a replica. Apart from the new details, it was the same white flower with red beads. She remembered how she wore it well on her hair, using it to remember him when he was away for longer periods of time.

She touched his shoulder.

“Jae-Yeongsshi,” she said.

He slowly touched her hand with his. Jae-Yeong was usually the chatty one; he never failed to speak his mind. It was a new sight, seeing him speechless on more than one occasion. Ha-Jin understood that it was silent plea for help.

Jae-Yeong took the hairpin and showed it to her.

“This must have been yours, then,” he said, “I could picture it.”

“You can see it in your head?” she asked hopefully.

“No, I mean…I can see you wearing it.”

Ha-Jin’s face fell, but she tried to immediately stay positive, hoping Jae-Yeong didn’t see it. He stood up and placed tucked the pin in her bun. Once he saw it was perfect, he took her hands in his and sighed.

“How are you holding up?” she asked him.

“I’m not exactly in the best condition right now. Everything’s confusing and I just…feel so tired,” he answered.

“When you get things sorted out, you’ll feel better,” she said, “All you have to do is re-connect. That’s what I did and I’m getting the hang of it.”

“Do you really believe in this?”

There was speculation in his voice. Jae-Yeong is still obviously struggling with the reality of his past life. The thought of it discouraged Ha-Jin as she stared into his eyes, seeing nothing but doubt and reasoning.

“Yes, I do,” she answered firmly, “I really do.”

Jae-Yeong sensed her fight. “I’m not saying I’m not for this,” he immediately explained, “It’s just…you have to understand, I’m having a hard time.”

The bags under his eyes said much about his rough weeks. She placed herself in his shoes—top CEO-to-be, fighting with his younger brother, dealing with work and crappy press, and now must face the reality of his past life. Jae-Yeong certainly did not have it well.

She ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“Don’t worry,” she told him, “You’ll get through this.”

He caught her hand and planted a kiss before placing it on his face.

“Answer me one thing,” he said.

“What’s that?”

“Is this what you want?”

Ha-Jin was taken aback; it was an odd thing to ask.

“What do you mean?”

He took another deep breath. “This…re-discovery thing, some sort of past life regression,” he began, “Will me learning more about the Fourth Prince and somehow…finding myself again…is this what you want?”

“Jae-Yeong, this isn’t about me,” she said, “It’s about you.”

“But I also want to know your input,” he argued, “Will me becoming Wang So again…one way or another…is this also what you want?”

From the moment she regained her memories as Hae Soo, she wanted nothing but to be reunited with her one true love. When they first met, he had no traces of the Fourth Prince—just the physical similarities. She never thought she would see her Wang So again.

But now, here he was—not fully him, but nearly there—and he was finally asking her that question.

“Yes,” she answered almost immediately.

She saw that he wasn’t surprised with her answer. Ha-Jin expected him to say something, to at least argue. She felt really selfish with her decision. But instead of arguing, he just pulled her into a hug and buried his face in her hair.

“I’ll do my best,” he whispered, “Just be patient with me.”

Her hand the back of his head.

“You won’t be alone,” she said.

--

“…news reports of incoming Hwang Corporation heir Hwang Jae-Yeong suffering from nervous breakdowns are surfacing since last week. The company magnate has released no official statement about said breakdowns. His brother, Hwang Il-Sung, remains the sole face of the company as he strives to establish a deal with Matsumoto Nakahiro’s group—“

Ha-Jin muted the television as she rounded up the last stocks of blushers and foundations. It was closing time, which meant pack-up time was in session.

“Ahh those press people never really lay off Hwang Jae-Yeong, don’t they?” asked Luna who was busy scrubbing the glass tables.

“Nope. His supposed breakdown is too newsworthy, apparently,” replied Si Eun as she flipped the sign to CLOSED, “People these days are too interested in useless stuff.”

Ha-Jin did not add to their conversation, choosing to close the boxes. She glanced at the screen and caught sight of her face. The news reporter was probably talking about her part in the breakdown or her future in the company…that stuff.

“Oh my god, Ha-Jinah, you’re so strong,” commented Si Eun, “I can’t believe you’re still putting up with this crap. If it were me, I’d probably beat people up or cry.”

“You’d probably cry,” remarked Luna, “You like to cry a lot.”

“Shut up.”

Ha-Jin smiled as she finished the last round of the boxes and heaved a sigh. It’s been a long day at the shop and she was thankful that no reporters hounded her. Manager Park made sure unwanted press would stay off the iSOi turf. One of the reporters received a black eye and after that, no one attempted to piss off her manager again.

As they were finishing up, a white car pulled up in front of the shop.

“Oh, I wonder who that could be,” remarked Si Eun, “The shop’s closed.”

Ha-Jin peeked from the counter and was surprised when Baek Min-Suk stepped out from the car and waved at her through the glass door. The front passenger window also rolled down to reveal Baek Yoo-Hee, looking glowing as ever, and waving enthusiastically at her. Ha-Jin ran towards the front door, smiling at her friends. As she got closer, she could see a small head resting near Yoo-Hee’s chest.

“Min-Suksshi! Yoo-Hee, what are you doing here?” she asked.

“Just get in the car, Ha-Jinah,” answered Min-Suk, “We have serious business to attend to. Plus, the baby’s getting a bit antsy. Wouldn’t want a screaming fit in the car.”

Still bewildered, Ha-Jin simply nodded her head and grabbed her stuff from the locker room. She bid her co-workers good night and rushed towards the car. Before getting in, she peeked at the tiny baby Yoo-Hee held in her arms.

“Omo, he’s getting bigger now.”

“Yes, Joon-Sang is growing despite the early delivery,” said Yoo-Hee, “He looks just like his father.”

“As it should be!” remarked Min-Suk, “Now, come in, Ha-Jinah.”

Ha-Jin nodded and opened the door, again surprised at the sight of Jae-Yeong sitting silently. At the sight of her, he cocked his head to the side and smiled.

“Get in the car now,” he told her, “Otherwise, the baby might throw a fit.”

That mischievous twinkle in his eye made a comeback. It’s been days since she saw any hint of the aggressive and sarcastic Hwang Jae-Yeong. Despite the bags under his eyes, he seems to have regained that old spark.

Immediately, she went inside the car, hoping no one saw her leave and closed the door. Once she was safely strapped to her seat, Min-Suk started the car and moved.

“What are you doing here?” she asked him.

“That’s some way to say hello to me.”

“You get what I meant.”

Jae-Yeong was pouting—a sight that was both annoying and cute at the same time. Min-Suk groaned from the front seat.

“Yah, Hwang Jae-Yeong, stop that,” he said, “You think you look good but you don’t.”

“Your son still looks more like me.”

“Shut up or get out of my car.”

Ha-Jin smiled as she watched Jae-Yeong chuckle as Baby Joon-Sang cooed at his mother. Every moment he smiled was a treasure; she realized that just recently. Given everything that has happened, she wanted nothing but him to smile.

As she stared at him, however, she realized the presence of their company.

Did they know?

She poked Jae-Yeong’s arm and quietly asked mouthed do they know? while pointing at Min-Suk and Yoo-Hee. Jae-Yeong got out his phone and started texting. At first, Ha-Jin thought he was deliberately ignoring her question, but when he gave his phone to her, she read his answer.

All they know is that I need to go someplace quiet. I haven’t told Min-Suk. I’d rather if it was between you, me, and Ji-Hyun.

He winked at her.

“Ah, Jae-Yeongah, why is it that you only call me whenever you need me?” complained Min-Suk, “Don’t you know I have a child now?”

“Even if you have a kid, I know you can’t resist helping me out.”

“Why does that have to be true?” said Min-Suk, “So, where am I dropping you off again?”

Jae-Yeong smiled again.

“You know where,” he said, then he glanced at Ha-Jin. She didn’t know where they were going, but before she could even ask, he held her hand.

--

“You really love this lake, don’t you?”

“Who wouldn’t? It’s peaceful.”

The lake in the middle of the city looked different since the last time Ha-Jin visited. No longer was it covered in ice or flakes of snow. She could finally see the greenery, albeit it was dark. But the stars above compensated.

When Jae-Yeong asked Min-Suk to drop him off here, she didn’t recognize the place at first. The lack of snow resulted in lapses of memories. But once she walked the familiar trail of bushes and flowers, her brain brought forth sceneries of white snow, a boat, and a mini-drowning accident.

They were back again.

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.

Jae-Yeong thought about it for a while before rummaging his coat pockets. He pulled out the historical hair pin.

“I’ve read much about past life regression,” he started, “They don’t sound too pleasant and I’m not exactly still sure with everything that’s happening. Rather than see a stranger or disrupt Ji-Hyun’s schedule, I’ll choose the one who can help me better.” Then, he gazed meaningfully at her.

“Me?”

“Who’s the better person to tell me of my supposed past life than you?” he said.

He was playing with the hairpin with his fingers, tracing every detail. Ha-Jin saw the look he gave the hair pin, as if he was trying to decipher it. She was saddened by the fact that he couldn’t remember the entire history surrounding that simple hair ornament. But here he was, inviting her to make sense of it.

“How has it been so far?” she asked, “Any memories?”

“Dreams mostly, but I can’t tell if they’re memories or just figments of my imagination.”

“Try me.”

He pursed his lips and racked his brains. “Ah, this pin,” he said, raising for her to see, “I was looking at this pin, but half of my vision was blurred—wait, not blurred—more of, dark. I was just staring at it, thinking I should be giving it to someone. Was I supposed to give it to you?”

Ha-Jin mentally sorted her memories as Hae Soo, trying to recall if Wang So said anything about the legendary hair pin.

"Yes," she answered, "You also bought one for your mother."

He seemed uncertain with what she said.

“Why do I feel like…it’s not a good memory?” he asked, “Did my mother not like it?”

Jae-Yeong looked torn between hope and curiosity. He probably wanted to know if his previous life’s mother loved him too. Does he not remember the stories of the Fourth Prince she told him before? Or did his brain automatically delete them?

“She…was complicated,” she said, “She…”

“Did not like me?”

He said it as if he knew it already.

“It’s…something like that.”

The crickets filled the need for sound during the silent night as Jae-Yeong digested this new piece of information. He looked intently at the hairpin again, rolling it in his hands—the moon’s beam making it shine.

"You look better with a hairpin anyway."

There was a wistful expression on his face. Ha-Jin wondered if he was trying to remember his previous mother, Queen Yoo, and if he could match her face with his stepmother today. Could he also see some resemblances between his brothers now with the brothers before?

“So, you remember everything?” he asked her, “Everything from your life as Hae Soo?”

“Not everything…a majority of it, actually,” she told him, “I think I still have a lot of memories to recover. They come at the most random times, but when I met you, they became more frequent and vivid.”

“Because I’m…Wang So?”

He still couldn’t bring himself to say his incarnate’s name out loud.

“Yes, because you’re the Fourth Prince,” she said, “Everything connected to you came back—and they’re still coming.”

“Is it hard?”

“Sometimes, it feels unpleasant,” she admitted, “But when I remember, there’s also the sense of doing something right. I know that I have unfinished business as Hae Soo and if remembering is the first step to making it right, I’m all for it.”

“If all if this is true—I mean…if we have to make things right,” he said, immediately correcting himself, “What do we have to make right?”

The moon cast a shadow over his handsome profile. With half of his face covered, she could perfectly picture that mask Wang So wore so well. Jae-Yeong lacked the scar the Fourth Prince had, but Ha-Jin felt that he still bore the scars of a life lived in misery—one that involved constantly surviving within the Palace and of a lost love.

She was sure her part was to make her peace with leaving him behind.

“That remains to be discovered by you,” she told him, “Maybe that’s why your memories are coming back; they want you to learn.”

Jae-Yeong nodded as he gazed at the hair pin once again.

“Those paintings I did…my body told me to paint scenes from that life, huh?”

“Unless you were transported there and saw them for yourself.”

He chuckled but his serious expression made a comeback. “I’ve always thought I was going crazy with those images in my head,” he confessed, “So, the sword fight in Busan—?”

“Also Wang So.”

He bit his lip.

“So, he’s slowly making his presence known, huh?” he asked, “This Fourth Prince.”

The resentment in his tone was hard to miss. She couldn’t help but think he might be blaming his past self for his ordeal. At first, she wanted to defend Wang So. Jae-Yeong had no idea what the Fourth Prince had to go through during his lifetime; it only made sense that he’d want a second chance. But then she realized the truth:

Jae-Yeong had no idea; of course, he wouldn’t understand.

“You don’t like it?” she asked him.

Jae-Yeong seemed to have sensed her worry. Immediately, he removed that frown on his face and held her hand.

“I…It’s just hard. But I know I have to do this.”

His voice was a mix between tired and just really tired. The moonlight reflected half of his face, still illuminating the appearances of bags. He looked like he could pass out anytime soon, but was fighting it for all of these.

Part of her wished he would just get better already. Jae-Yeong, despite being snobby, reckless, and too aggressive, did not deserve this kind of hardship. But life had its reigns on him—on all of them—they didn’t exactly have a choice.

She firmly believed it was the only way he’d get better.

He was looking at the hairpin again.

“If fate really did bring us together again in this life,” he said, “I must’ve loved you very much.”

She saw his eyes sparkle as he looked at her. Ha-Jin experienced a rush of memories—of how Wang So told her that she was his only queen, of how he stood by her during turbulent times, of how he held her tight and said he would never let her go.

Ha-Jin touched his hand.

“You really did,” she said.

He smiled despite his weariness. Before she could even speak, he was already leaning forward, closing his eyes, as well as the space between them. She had a second to study his face before the inevitable happened. Her wide eyes looked at his handsome profile for the nth time before receiving his kiss.

You’re nearly there. It doesn’t make sense now but it eventually will. You don’t have to go through it alone. I’ll be with you.

--

The weeks that followed were roller coaster rides for both Ha-Jin and Jae-Yeong. In the midst of trying to find himself, the latter was caught with deadlines, meetings, and deals. As if that wasn’t enough, he also had to face the press and critics as news of his supposed mental illness resurfaced.

Dealing with his past life was not easy either. Sometimes, Ha-Jin wondered if Wang So was intentionally punishing himself through his present incarnate. As Hae Soo, she might’ve had a couple of scrapes and bumps but in the same intensity as his. There were times when she’d caught him in trances or when he’d suddenly remember an image out of nowhere.

During such times, Ha-Jin would offer support and explanation for them to make sense. Once, he felt pain in his arm again—the very same spot where Il-Sung supposedly shot him. In another, he called her in the middle of the night, panting and talking about a nightmare involving him killing monks.

He said he was covered in blood.

At times, his frustration was obvious. He would be exasperated; he would complain. Ha-Jin and Ji-Hyun would have to put up with his rants; they had no choice to understand because they weren’t in his position and there was no one else. But there were times when Ha-Jin couldn’t help but share his frustration.

Why couldn’t he just remember it? Why does he have to brush it off?

There were moments when they would get annoyed or when Ha-Jin would be disappointed with his failure to appreciate a memory. But when he’d see his crestfallen face, she’d remind herself that he was trying his best.

His family was still clueless to his ordeal; all they knew was that their eldest was probably going through a personal crisis. Hwang Kwang-Soo ordered the family doctor to prescribe Jae-Yeong with the right meds, clueless to the fact that medicine is not the answer to his eldest’s predicament. Tae-Won, on the other hand, remained steadfast and still backed up his hyung when necessary.

But Ha-Jin didn’t know if the youngest was as supportive when Jae-Yeong was home.

With Il-Sung, however, she had her suspicions.

There was one time when she was visiting the Hwang Corporation to drop off some items for Ji-Hyun (and to subtly check up on Jae-Yeong). The front door was filled with strangers and she didn’t want to risk recognition or running into unwanted press. Rather than enter there, she decided to take the secret back entrance Jae-Yeong taught her.

As she was about to climb the next stairs, she stopped at the sight of Il-Sung conversing with a man, who was eerily familiar.

“…no one could know, all right?”

“But everyone’s bound to. Your family does not exactly keep secrets.”

“I know, that’s the charm and that’s what keeps things going,” Il-Sung was saying, “You know how to spin tales, right?”

There was silent agreement.

She didn’t dare come up with Il-Sung and the man blocking her way. God knows what they could be doing, but she sensed it was no good. He wasn’t exactly being very helpful with his brother’s situation; in fact, it seemed as if he was reveling in it. As the one who “cleans up the mess,” he received praises from Jae-Yeong’s critics and was deemed to be worthy of the company.

But Hwang Kwang-Soo was firm as rock, insisting that his eldest was like any stressed person and this was just a phase.

Despite the ups and downs, she admired Jae-Yeong for his fighting spirit. He would try his hardest to remember or connect the memories he gathered, albeit most of them were blurred. Whenever he would recall a sensation, he’d make sure to consult Ha-Jin about it, completing the puzzle pieces together for the bigger picture.

His doubts and logical reasoning often blocked his total understanding, but there was one item that somehow assured him of his past life.

Whenever he touched the hair pin, it’s as if all is calm in the world. He never kept it out of his sight. When the panic attacks would start, the meds would partially work but the hairpin had its magic on him.

It was the living proof he was Wang So and damn it if Ha-Jin failed to recover her lost love.

--

The main conference room was pretty much empty at ten in the evening. Ha-Jin had dropped by again as requested by Jae-Yeong. After his meeting, he asked her to wait for him in the conference room while he finished stuff in his office. So, she sat on one of the chairs and waited.

It’s been pretty much a hectic day for both of them.

As her eyes wandered around the room, she couldn’t help but feel too sleepy. Her eyelids tempted to droop. She just wanted to go to sleep.

The sound of the creaking door indicated someone was back.

“Jae-Yeongah, do you want to get coffee before we go home?” she asked.

“So you take my hyung out for coffee before bed?”

Ha-Jin was startled at the sight of Hwang Tae-Won standing at the door, both hands resting behind his back. He didn’t seemed surprise with seeing her there; it was almost as if he was expecting her.

His black suit made him look older than he really is--or maybe, she didn't see him that much. Either way, this was one of the rare moments she encountered the youngest Hwang.

“Ah, Tae-Wonah,” she said, bowing politely, “Good evening.”

It was hard to see him wear that serious look so well. Admittedly, she still misses the cuddly and friendly Tae-Won who first got her that drink from the vending machine. But alas, he was just like his past incarnate—here today, gone tomorrow.

“It’s funny that I should run into you here,” he said, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“About what?”

He went inside the conference room. Something about his face indicated he meant business and it did not make Ha-Jin feel any better. Tae-Won took slow steps down the stairs, each step sounding like a heavy heartbeat echoing through the walls of the conference room. As he came closer, Ha-Jin felt worse.

Once he got to her, there was a knowing look on his face.

“About my brother’s supposed past life,” he said.

Ha-Jin’s eyes widened in shock, surprise, and fear.

How did he know?

--

A/N: it has been a long holiday, dear readers. Forgive your dear author-nim if she’s been too busy eating or trying to recover from her sickness. Suffering from the cold does not do wonders for my imagination. I had to listen to tons of SHR and Goblin soundtracks just to get inspiration. But I finally made it through—despite the work, sickness, and holiday cheer.

The new year’s coming up soon. I can’t wait for 2017. I hope my dear readers will also have an eventful New Year. Let’s all bid 2016 hasta la vista and hope for the better. I know 2016 was way worse than we thought; 2017 could be in the same pile, but as long as we’re together, we’re going to be fine.