The morning sunlight softly filtered through the thin curtains of Yoon Ha-rin's apartment. Loudly, her alarm rang on the bedside table.
7:30 a.m. It showed. Ha-rin groaned and buried back her face deeper into the pillow. "No" She cried but the alarm continued ringing mercilessly. With no other option, she reluctantly stretched one arm across the table and finally turned it off.
Silence soon returned to the small room and for a moment, she laid there. Just staring at the ceiling. The memory of last night's dream came rushing back. Ha-rin slowly sat up. Her thoughts filled with questions.
Why does the same dream keep returning to her? She couldn't place a finger on. Her fingers lightly pressed against her temple. To her, the strangest part wasn't the dream but how real it all felt. The cold night air, coupled with the fear and pain.
She quickly shook her head. "Stop thinking about it." She gathered herself. "Dreams were just meant to be dreams. Nothing more."
With this, she found herself heading down the washroom and soon, the soft taps of the water filled the atmosphere. After a quick shower and a simple breakfast, Ha-rin grabbed her bag and left the apartment.
Unlike the wealthy district where the Moonlight Cultural Foundation stood, Ha-rin's neighborhood was lively and chaotic. With street vendors shouting over sizzling grills and scooters zipping through the narrow streets. Small cafés and shops also lined the sidewalks.
Ha-rin stopped in front of one of them. It was cozy with warm wooden doors and a bright sign. Moonbean Café. Without hesitation, she pushed open the door and the smell of coffee beans immediately filled the air.
"You're late!" Ha-rin involuntarily feigned a smile at the harsh welcome from the counter.
Behind the counter stood a young woman with short hair and bright eyes. It was no other person than, Park Soo-jin, her older sister.
"Well, good morning to you too," Ha-rin said dryly as she dropped her bag. But Soo-jin's gaze followed, with her arms crossed, showing no remorse at all.
"You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago."
"It's eight-thirty," Ha-rin argued.
"Yes. And opening time is eight-twenty."
Ha-rin sighed. "You are way too strict for someone running a neighborhood café."
Soo-jin rolled her eyes. "And you are way too relaxed for someone who still owes me rent."
With no other argument, she immediately grabbed an apron and set to her chores. "I know… I'm working! I'm working!". Soo-jin quietly laughed as she handed her a tray.
The sisters quickly fell into their usual rhythm. Ha-rin prepared the drinks while Soo-jin managed orders. The café slowly filled up with morning customers.
From office workers grabbing coffee before work, to students studying near the window. Neighbors chatted at the corner tables and for a while, everything felt completely normal. Comfortable and familiar.
Around ten o'clock, the café door suddenly burst open. "Ha-rin!" The call soon followed. Ha-rin didn't even need to look tow know who it was.
"Min-ji." She answered. Kim Min-ji walked in like a storm of energy, wearing oversized sunglasses and waving dramatically.
"You're alive!"
Soo-jin laughed at her words. "She's been alive the whole morning. You're the one who just woke up." Min-ji just ignored and rushed to the counter.
"So? Did you get the job?"
Ha-rin shook her head. "It was just an interview."
"But you met the famous CEO," Min-ji insisted. "Tell me again how handsome he was."
Ha-rin groaned. "Why are you so obsessed with that?"
"Because rich handsome CEOs only exist in dramas!"
Soo-jin leaned closer. "He must be interesting if Ha-rin is this embarrassed talking about him."
"I'm not embarrassed," Ha-rin protested.
Min-ji gasped teasingly. "You're blushing!"
"I am not!"
The café soon filled with their laughter. Meanwhile, inside the Moonlight Cultural Foundation, across the city, the atmosphere was much quieter. Kang Jae-min was already behind his desk in the executive office, reviewing several documents.
One of his assistants entered the room. "Sir." He called but Jae-min didn't look up.
"Yes." He answered, still glued to what he was doing.
"The background check you requested has begun." His words finally drew his attention. His eye slowly lifted towards him.
"Anything unusual?"
"Not yet." The assistant said, handing over a thin folder. Without wasting much time, he ripped it open and drew out its content. It was a paper or more which had her name, Yoon Ha-rin. Age twenty-three and qualification, Graduate of Seoul Arts University and a Freelance designer.
Jae-min flipped through the pages silently. Everything looked ordinary.
"She had no criminal records, financial problems or major corporate connections," the assistant continued. Jae-min's gaze paused on one page.
" And birth records?" The assistant hesitated before speaking.
"There is one small inconsistency."
Jae-min looked up. "What kind of inconsistency?"
"The hospital where she was born reported a temporary power failure on the night of her birth," the assistant explained. "Some digital records from that evening were partially corrupted."
This made him lean back "And?"
"Nothing significant," the assistant said quickly. "Just a minor record gap."
His gaze still seemed unsettled. Something about it still bothered him. Lost in thought, he slowly closed the folder. "Continue investigating," he said calmly.
"Yes, sir." The assistant bowed and left.
Jae-min trod toward the window and there, Seoul stretched endlessly beneath him. Busy, alive and predictable. Yet somewhere in that massive city, a girl named Yoon Ha-rin had somehow disrupted his perfectly ordered world. And he still didn't know why.
Back at the café, Ha-rin had herself busily wiping the table when she abruptly made a halt. Her hand froze midway and for a moment, she thought she heard the sound of clashing metals. Like swords striking but the sound disappeared instantly.
She blinked. "Did you hear something?" she asked.
Min-ji looked up at her curiously "Hear what?" She asked but Ha-rin slowly shook her head.
"…Nothing, never mind." She tried to distract herself but the uneasy feeling returned. Soft and persistent. Just like whisper from another time.