As they walk back, Seungwan is lost. Not along the streets, she's taken this path many times, but lost in her thoughts. She finds herself aimlessly wandering, Joohyun lagging a short distance behind, watching Seungwan's furrowed brow. 

Only now does she realize how much she doesn't know about Joohyun. Sure, she's learned so many things over the course of their time together, that Joohyun likes historical movies, and now romances, that Joohyun likes to do laundry, that Joohyun likes hugs much more than you would assume. She was an amalgamation of history and experiences that Seungwan couldn't hope to imagine, a glass ball covered in a century of dust. If she took her thumb to the surface, swiped off the film, perhaps the glint of the sun off the glass would be too blinding.

But were those things important? She feels like she only knows a sum of details about her, but is lacking some crucial elements, about where Joohyun came from, about where she was going. 

Seungwan thinks back to the balcony, their conversations on the nature of existence. She wonders why she never saw past all of that snark to see the sentimentality behind her words. She knew that, since that night, she wanted to help Joohyun relearn what it means to exist — beyond that, live.

But she had always thought they would have a lifetime to learn together. Now she knows that her time with Joohyun is limited. Is it too much to make this year the most meaningful part of Joohyun's existence? 

Seungwan doesn't know how the other masters were, doesn't know what they were able to show Joohyun, doesn't know all of the adventures she's had or hadn't. The only thing she can offer is the life she knows. Would that be enough to make up a meaningful existence?

Maybe it was. Her own always felt more meaningful when Joohyun was around.

Seungwan's feet find the pavement, shoes sliding across concrete as the breeze brushes against her shoulders with every passing thought. Absentmindedly, she finds herself already up the stairs to their apartment. 

Joohyun pulls out her own set of keys to unlock the door for them, aware that Seungwan is still too caught up in the recent events to function normally.

The singer walks into their unit as if on autopilot, feet on the spokes of a wheel that continuously spin toward her bedroom door. 

Joohyun could just let her go, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to let her go.

She interrupts the silence. "Seungwan?" Her tone is gentle, coaxing.

The girl leans on the door frame, giving a soft hum in acknowledgement. Her eyes are distant, searching for something it seems she hasn't found yet.

"Today was beautiful."

The light returns to Seungwan's eyes, but leaves as quickly as it came. A flicker of a candle's flame petering out. "Today?" 

Joohyun nods slowly, a soft smile dancing across her lips, hoping to bring some semblance of comfort to Seungwan.

"What about every day after?" Seungwan sighs. "How do I make every day after as beautiful?"

Her eyes are flitting across the hardwood floor, chasing, in an empty pursuit for words or answers or anything that could help her make sense of this predicament, as if they were scrawled in the scratches of the wood before her.

The weight of her words earlier crashes on her like a cartoon anvil, appearing out of the sky to snuff the life out of this little hamster. How could she be so optimistic? Before, the days stretched out endlessly like an infinite film reel, potential memories splashed onto a silver screen for as long as she wished to keep cranking the handle. Now, it was as if someone took scissors to the film, cut it in half, or less, even. 

Joohyun doesn't answer, can't answer. She's never had a master so willing for her to stay, who cared about her more than wishes.

But Seungwan fills the hallway with her own wish.

"I wish I had more time."

Joohyun's voice quiets. "You know you can't do that."

"All the magic at my fingertips and I still can't do what I want. Isn't it funny?"

The genie's expression is sympathetic, though she remains silent.

A buzz from Seungwan's pocket cuts through the tension. 

Joohyun watches wordlessly as the singer swipes quickly, eyes darting across her screen, before she shoves the device back into her jeans. 

"They moved the schedule around. Filming starts tomorrow." Her words are curt, professional. Joohyun is not used to this side of Seungwan.

"I should go to sleep," Seungwan exhales.

The singer turns, putting a hand on her door handle. With her back to Joohyun, her shoulders slump, her facade thaws. She speaks as if speaking to the wood of her bedroom door, whispering a confession.

"I feel like I don't know anything about you even though a month has already gone by. How many more will it take? At the end of this all, will I know you any better than I did at the beginning?"

The genie watches Seungwan's hand tremble. She doesn't quite know what to say, only able to respond with a question of her own. "What would you even need to know?"

"Everything," Seungwan said so simply, as if it were that easy. 

"Everything is a lot to ask for."

Seungwan gives a low sardonic chuckle, one more bitter than amused. "It's strange how it's virtually the only thing I ask for." 

Before Joohyun realizes, Seungwan's door is open, one foot already past the threshold. The singer faces the genie. "If only there was a way I could make this day longer — if we could keep talking, even as I sleep." A small smile gives contrast to her solemn expression, bringing a faint glimmer to her eyes. "I wish that I could see you in my dreams."

"Are you sure? I can make that happen, if you so wish," Joohyun states naturally.

Seungwan's eyebrows raise. "Really? I didn't think you could but..." She fidgets with her hands as she pauses to contemplate this decision, leaving Joohyun to explain.

"Dreams are strange. In this world where only traces of magic exist, dreams are a place where it reigns free. That feeling that you can truly do anything in a dream, it's due to that." Joohyun finds it difficult to verbalize, tries to boil down the inexplicable circumstances to only the necessary information. "Essentially, in dreams, I could do anything for you."

Seungwan looks up from her shaky hands, eyes almost quivering as much. Her voice comes out tenderly, cautiously. "So if I wanted to see you, learn about you, all at once, you could do that?"

"All you need to do is to wish for it."

"Then I wish to see you in my dreams."

"Go to sleep now, Seungwan." Joohyun takes a step through her own door. "I'll see you then."