Hanna sits silently in the passenger seat, soaked hair clinging to her cheeks, her eyes red from unshed tears. The car wipers move in rhythm to the heavy rain outside.
Junho glances at her, worried. He keeps his tone light, trying to ease the tension.
JUNHO
(soft)
"You want me to hunt him down and teach him a lesson?"
Hanna lets out a bitter chuckle, but her voice is laced with hurt.
HANNA
"I can't waste another second of my time on someone like him."
Junho nods slowly, gripping the steering wheel tighter.
A beat of silence.
HANNA
(staring ahead, voice trembling)
"Do you think you could erase him from my memory… this time?"
Junho glances at her. Their eyes meet. Her vulnerability hits him like a wave.
He doesn't answer.
Just looks away, back to the road. Focused, but something inside him breaks.
HANNA
(smiling faintly)
"Don't worry. I was just asking. I wouldn't want you bleeding again because of me."
Junho says nothing — but his jaw clenches. He remembers.
Deleting memories wasn't like reading them. Reading was effortless — a glance, a touch, and the floodgates opened. But deleting…
That was different.
It tore through him like fire, draining him from the inside out. His nose bled. Sometimes, worse. The more emotional the memory, the more painful the toll.
Because removing a memory meant replacing it with silence — and silence was never clean.
It wasn't just their pain.
It became his.
The car rolls to a stop in front of her building. The rain has ceased, leaving only a shimmering wetness on the streets.
Junho steps out and walks around to open her door. The streetlight reflects softly on Hanna's tired, rain-dried face.
JUNHO
(quietly, gentle)
"Are you really okay?"
HANNA
(a weak smirk, but eyes glassy)
"What if I said I'm not?"
(beat)
"Will you stay with me tonight?"
Junho hesitates, eyes holding hers — not out of pity, but something heavier. He looks away, heart aching but choosing silence.
JUNHO
(not cold, but honest)
"I never thought I'd be the one who could heal your broken heart."
That hits Hanna harder than she expected.
She swallows, turns her head slightly — facing forward. Then, softly:
HANNA
"I wish you hadn't said that."
(beat)
"Tonight, you saw all my weakness… and you didn't even need to take off your glasses."
(a bitter smile)
"You probably think I'm foolish. That I should've just accepted your love when you offered it."
Junho opens his mouth to respond — but RING!
His phone buzzes. He checks.
JUNHO
(sighs, into phone)
"Daejin?"
DAEJIN (V.O.)
"Mr. Park, did you reach home yet? There's something urgent in the email from Kyoto team — you need to see it."
Junho's jaw tightens slightly. He glances at Hanna, torn between two worlds again.
Junho puts his phone away after ending the call with Daejin.
JUNHO
(gently)
"I should go. You should rest too. Don't overthink tonight."
Hanna nods, head slightly down, lips pressed.
She knows. But part of her wishes he wouldn't leave.
As Junho opens his car door, a sudden pull —
Hanna reaches out, grabbing his wrist from behind.
HANNA
(soft, trembling)
"Wait… I saw you."
Junho turns, surprised. He meets her eyes, waiting.
HANNA
"I saw the way you looked at her.
It's the same way you used to look at me…
Back when you asked for my heart."
Silence.
Junho's eyes flicker. That hit deeper than expected.
He exhales slowly.
JUNHO
(faint smirk, deflecting gently)
"You were probably too emotional to see clearly back then."
(beat)
"Sleep well, Hannasshi."
He gently frees his wrist, offering a small touch to her shoulder — warm, but distant.
Then, without another word, he gets into the car and drives off…
leaving Hanna under the dim lights, her heart quietly unraveling.
EXT. SEOUL CITY ROADS – NIGHT – RAIN DRIZZLING
The roads glisten under the leftover drizzle of rain. Streetlights blur through the windshield as Seri drives silently, her grip on the wheel firm.
Inside the car, the soft hum of tires against wet asphalt is the only sound — except for her thoughts.
Her mind replays the moment on a loop —
Hanna standing in the pantry doorway.
Soaked. Disheveled. Eyes brimming.
Junho… frozen, his gaze torn.
Seri clenches her jaw lightly, trying to suppress the feeling in her chest.
She hadn't meant to walk into that.
She hadn't expected that.
SERI
(whispers to herself)
"What… even happened to her?"
Her fingers drum softly on the steering wheel at a red light.
She remembers Junho's face — the way he reached out to Hanna.
Concern. Guilt. Something else too.
Seri exhales.
Whatever happened between them, she wasn't supposed to care.
She told herself this wasn't personal.
She was here for a mission.
But the image still lingers like a stone on her chest.
And worse… she had walked away, not knowing how it ended.
She turns the wheel, eyes back on the road — but her mind far behind.
INT. HANNA'S APARTMENT – LATE MORNING
The sunlight creeps through half-drawn curtains. Hanna lies curled up under a thick comforter, still in the silk dress she wore the night before. Mascara smudges faintly under her eyes.
Her phone buzzes — again. And again.
Ryun: [10 missed calls]
Ryun (Text): "Hanna… please talk to me."
Ryun (Text): "I'm sorry. Please…"
She turns the phone off, tosses it across the bed, and buries her face deeper into the pillow.
Not today.
No cameras. No scripts.
Just sleep.
Just silence.
⸻
EXT. QUIET PARK – EARLY MORNING
A heavy mist still clings to the grass as Seri runs along an empty trail, her ponytail swaying behind her.
No earbuds. No music. Just breath and rhythm.
She stops at a secluded clearing where no one ever passes this early.
After scanning the area, she exhales…
and shifts into form.
Her body lowers into a grounded stance — legs apart, arms raised precisely.
A flow of martial forms follows: smooth, calculated strikes — balanced kicks and flowing blocks.
A blend of aikido grace and taekwondo precision, refined but deadly.
It's not just exercise.
It's memory.
It's survival.
She finishes with a firm palm strike into the air, steady breath escaping her lips.
SERI
(quietly to herself)
"Still sharp."
She glances around one more time — no one.
Then she runs again, this time toward the lake at the park's far edge.
There, she stops.
The water is still. Trees sway gently above.
She takes a deep breath.
Today wasn't meant to be a workday. But for Seri, there's no such thing as a day off — not now.
Especially with only a few days left.
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them again —
She knows exactly what she has to do.
INT. JUNHO'S PENTHOUSE – KITCHEN – MORNING
Sunlight pierces through the modern glass walls. The kitchen is sleek and quiet.
Junho, still in a casual grey sweatshirt and loose slacks, opens the refrigerator. He grabs a small energy drink, cracks it open, and leans against the counter as he dials.
JUNHO
(low voice, still waking up)
"Daejin?"
DAEJIN (V.O., crisp)
"Yes, Mr. Kang. Good morning."
JUNHO
"I checked the Kyoto emails last night… didn't call because it was late."
(beat)
"So — just to confirm… the Jalan Group's gala dinner is scheduled near Kyoto, right? That old luxury estate in Arashiyama?"
DAEJIN (V.O.)
"Yes, sir. The gala will be held at the Arashiyama Imperial Pavilion. Private, by-invitation only — mostly international tech giants and cultural reps. Big media coverage too."
Junho takes a thoughtful sip, his expression shifting from casual to sharp.
JUNHO
"So it's more than just the Baekdu Project, then…"
DAEJIN (V.O.)
"Yes, sir. You'll be representing Kang Corporation at a regional summit and the gala night. A high-profile appearance."
JUNHO
(slowly, under breath)
"An opportunity to elevate the brand… and myself."
He places the drink down. His posture straightens — CEO mode fully online.
JUNHO
"Start prepping the team. Seri's group will handle press and optics. I want everything tight."
DAEJIN (V.O.)
"Understood, sir."
Junho hangs up.
His eyes fall on the files from last night, still spread out on the kitchen island.
JUNHO
(softly, to himself)
"Kyoto, huh…"
He turns and walks off — determined, yet something else clouds his thoughts.
Not just business.
Something about Seri…
Something about last night still lingers.
Junho sighs, setting his phone down on the counter.Still groggy, he opens the refrigerator door.
Dozens of identical energy drinks still staring back at him.
He sighs. Rubs his temple.
JUNHO
(deadpan)
"Well… looks like it's officially Grocery Day."
(beat)
"Or I start growing wings from taurine overdose."
He grabs his keys, energy drink in hand, and walks out of the kitchen like a man on a noble quest.
INT. GROCERY STORE – FRUIT SECTION – DAY
Junho stands at the neatly stacked apple section, dressed casually — charcoal sweatshirt, clean jeans, sleeves rolled just enough to show his watch. Effortlessly sharp.
He picks up a pack of Fuji apples, inspecting them with unusual seriousness.
From the side, an AHJUMMA (mid-50s, stylish) watches him with curiosity… then nudges her friend.
AHJUMMA #1
(loud whisper)
"Aigoo, he's too handsome to be picking apples alone…"
She steps closer, clearing her throat. Junho looks up politely.
AHJUMMA #1
"Excuse me, young man. Are you single?"
Junho blinks. Surprised but calm.
JUNHO
"…Pardon?"
AHJUMMA #1
(grinning wide)
"I have a daughter. Very pretty. Works at Samsung. Can cook at least three types of kimchi."
Junho smiles, faintly awkward.
JUNHO
"That's… very generous, ma'am."
AHJUMMA #2
"Tell him about her MBA!"
AHJUMMA #1
"Oh right! She studied in Canada!"
Junho gives a small bow, trying to back away toward the apples.
JUNHO
"I'm flattered. But I… already have someone I argue with regularly."
AHJUMMA #1
(gasps, delighted)
"Omo! You're in love? That's even better! Arguments make couples stronger."
He gives a tight-lipped smile, clutching his apple pack like a life raft.
JUNHO
"…Right."
They finally let him go, whispering excitedly behind him.
Junho exhales and turns his attention back to the apples.
Junho rolls his trolley through the bright, polished aisles of the store. He moves with purpose, eyes scanning the shelves—but something nags at him.
A faint shift behind. A presence.
JUNHO
(quietly, to himself)
"Someone's following me…?"
He glances back. Nothing suspicious—just a young couple, a middle-aged man browsing cereal.
He shakes it off.
JUNHO
(tight smile)
"Maybe I'm finally becoming famous…"
He turns into another aisle, now in the imported snacks section. A tall mirror mounted at the end of the row reflects a half-glimpse of someone turning swiftly behind the juice display.
A hoodie. A figure ducking slightly.
His eyes narrow. That wasn't coincidence.
JUNHO
(alarm rising)
"Okay, not a fan."
He grips his trolley and starts fast-walking, weaving through the aisle—past the instant ramen, past the freezer section—his steps speeding up.
He rounds the corner sharply, not watching where he's going—
BUMP!
The trolley smacks right into someone.
Junho freezes.