After the plane is finally up in the air and steadily stabilises, the passengers start getting comfortable and settle in. Unsure what to do for the next few hours, Seulgi looks around awkwardly before deciding to skim through the in-flight magazine. The stranger next to her fiddles around on her phone before placing it on the fold out table, screen faced down. Despite trying her best not to intrude, Seulgi’s eyes drift to the object and she notices what seems like the woman’s name is engraved on the back of the phone case.

‘Irene’, it reads.

A beautiful name to match a beautiful face, Seulgi remarks before slapping the sense back into herself.

‘Irene’ slowly closes her eyes in an attempt to have a short nap. She’s as graceful asleep as she is awake, Seulgi admits, finding herself once again gazing at the shocking face. She can’t help but want to know more about this intriguing woman. What’s her story? What’s her life like? Who is she in this world?

Feeling uncomfortable under Seulgi’s intense stare, Irene wakes up and snaps, slightly annoyed. “What?”

Embarrassed to have been caught for a second time, Seulgi immediately averts her eyes again. “Sorry um, n-nothing it’s nothing,” she excuses.

“Well there must be something,” Irene pushes, “You’ve been staring at me since I sat down. Do I know you? Am I in your seat maybe?” she inquires, unsure just exactly why this girl has been gawking at her so persistently.

“N-no it’s just….”

“Yeah?”

Flustered, Seulgi isn’t sure how else to explain herself, so she makes a sudden confession. It’s nothing to hide or be ashamed of anyway. “I have this condition called prosopagnosia, meaning I can’t recognise or distinguish faces.” For the first time ever, she can see confusion in a person’s face. Irene’s is interesting to her in that it doesn’t seem very expressive yet Seulgi can still tell exactly what she’s thinking and feeling.

“Every face is a blur to me, but for some reason….I can see yours clearly,” she continues, “in full clarity. Clearer than I’ve ever seen my own face. And I don’t know who you are….but I’d like to.” 

Now Irene’s even more perplexed. She’s never heard of such a condition, but Seulgi’s story seems legitimate and somehow….Irene is an anomaly in all this. Just as she’s about to muster up a reply, she’s interrupted.

“Good afternoon everyone, my name is Yeri and I’m your captain for today’s flight,” the pilot introduces, “The plane is steadily above the clouds now so I’ve turned off the caution lights. You may now unbuckle, walk around, whatever you please. I hope you enjoy the flight today, thank you.”

As a pilot constantly flying to and fro between different cities, Yeri’s life has always had a sense of instability. She lives in hotel rooms or crashes at random friends’ houses, her time zones and body clock change often and so does the language she must adapt to speak in. 

But there is one thing that’s constant in her life; Tokki.

A year ago after deciding to stay in a capsule hotel for the night, Yeri hires a locker in the middle of Tokyo station. Opening it, she finds a diary, presumably left behind by the previous hirer. Of course she doesn’t read through it, but she sees the front page reads, “If lost, please return to Tokki.”

And so she hires the locker for a little longer, three days to be exact, and leaves the diary in the back of the locker, sticking a note to the do