“How did you know to go this way?”
Hae-in, who had unconsciously taken the lead, stopped in her tracks. Right—how did she know where to go?
Had he told her? Gestured, maybe? No—she couldn’t recall that happening.
She’d just walked without thinking… and somehow, it had been the right direction.
“…All apartment layouts are kind of similar.”
“That’s true.”
“It was either this way or that way. Finding the main road isn’t that hard, so maybe I just—”
Why am I so flustered?
“But you’re terrible with directions, aren’t you?”
“I am.”
“Then how did you know?”
“Because I’m right. We lived here.”
Startled, Hae-in stopped walking. Then, as if drawn by something unseen, she took a few steps forward and stopped in front of a house.
It had a hedge of camellia trees for a fence.
She’d always thought that if she ever had her own house, she’d want one with a camellia fence like that.
“You liked it a lot. You used to wait for me here.”
“…Here?”
“When I got off work and came this way, you were always sitting right there.”
It did feel right, somehow. The spot was so familiar it almost made her wonder if she had left something behind there.
She crouched by the camellia hedge, just as he described. It was the perfect spot to see the park entrance—a good place to wait for someone.
“Was this…the feeling?”
“…Yeah.”
“I think… I can feel it. This spot feels strangely comfortable.”
Instead of standing up, she pulled her knees to her chest and leaned her back gently against the hedge. Sitting like this, it almost felt like someone would come to fetch her soon.
Siyul sat down beside her without a word.
They didn’t speak. Their shoulders were close enough to touch, but neither of them said anything.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
“There used to be a food stall over there,”
Siyul said as they walked.
“But it’s gone now. I guess the owner closed up since the weather’s warmer.”
“…Huh?”
“They had really good fish cake soup. You loved it.”
He even remembered that she liked fish cake soup. It made her wonder if there was anything about her that he didn’t know.
“If the stall owner were still around, she’d probably be happy to see us again. She saw us together a lot.”
Hae-in just nodded faintly.
The awkwardness between them had returned, because she’d realized something—he’d gotten far too close. Once, she could barely even look at him, but now she was letting him get this close, and that in itself made her uneasy.
“…”
“…”
“Want a candy?”
“…Sure, why not.”
It was the perfect distraction. As long as she was eating, she didn’t have to talk.
She held out her hand, and he casually pulled a candy from his pocket and placed it in her palm.
He carries sweets around? That doesn’t suit him.
“Coffee flavor…”
She’d eaten plenty of fruit candies before, but never a coffee-flavored one. It was surprisingly good—sweet, but not cloying.
Rolling it around in her mouth, she automatically placed the empty wrapper in his hand when he offered it. It felt natural, like something they’d done countless times before.
She didn’t even notice that.
“We’re here,” he said.
“That’s the animal hospital where I worked.”
The direction he pointed held the largest animal hospital Hae-in had ever seen. Weren’t animal clinics usually small, tucked into the first floor of a building? This one was four stories high, gleaming and polished.
“…It’s huge.”
“Well, for an animal hospital, yeah. It has a grooming center and handles a lot of specialized treatments.”
“Like what?”
“Pet oncology and reptile care, for example.”
To Hae-in, who knew little about animals, that sounded impressive.
As she followed him into the hospital lobby, she found herself growing tense, unconsciously sticking close to him. Everything felt so unfamiliar—he was the only familiar thing.
Then came the flood of greetings from the staff.
“Dr. Kang!”
“Oh my, it’s been a while!”
“Dr. Kang, you’ve lost weight!”
“You should stop by more often. Did you finish what you said you needed to do? When are you coming back? So many clients have been asking for you.”
Apparently, he was quite popular.
Overwhelmed by the attention, Hae-in grabbed his sleeve and hid partly behind him.
So he’s Mr. Kang. No wonder calling Sumo “Mr.” had felt strange—it reminded her of him.
“Oh, and this must be your girlfriend?”
“Right, it’s been a while since we last saw you two together.”
They all clearly recognized her—and thought she was his girlfriend.
“Hello…”
She managed a small bow.
Siyul glanced down at her, his expression smug, like he was silently saying,
See? I told you so.
“Ah, by the way,” one of the nurses said,
“the owner of that puppy came back recently. They adopted one of the rescued dogs from here. I meant to tell you.”
“…A puppy?”
“You remember—the one that was dying before.”
“Excuse me—mind if we take a look around the exam rooms?”
Siyul interrupted smoothly before she had to answer.
“Of course. No one’s using them right now.”
Hae-in followed him quickly, relieved he’d changed the subject.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
“This was my exam room,”
he said once they were inside.
“But someone else uses it now.”
“If you’re on leave, when do you plan to come back?”
“Well… technically, I could anytime. But more importantly—do you remember anything?”
“It’s all kind of overwhelming… I don’t really know.”
She looked around. The room felt different from a regular hospital, but it didn’t stir any memories. Animal hospitals were foreign territory to her.
“At least you met the witnesses,”
he said.
“…I get it now—you really were my boyfriend. They wouldn’t all lie about that.”
“Glad you believe me.”
If his coworkers knew about her, that meant their relationship had been serious.
She stopped looking around and turned to face him directly.
Until now, she’d always avoided his eyes. But this time, she wanted to know—really know.
“So… if we were dating… how did we meet?”
“The first time we met was here.”
“At the animal hospital? Why would I come here?”
She didn’t own any pets, and she had no reason to be in this neighborhood at all.
“You and I had a cat,” he said.
“…The one you asked about through the management office? The cat I might’ve owned?”
“That’s right. Want to see a picture?”
They’d supposedly dated, yet he was showing her a cat photo first—it felt oddly unfair. Still, she nodded.
He pulled out his phone and showed her a picture of a beautiful black cat with golden eyes. Somehow, its gaze felt almost alive—like it was speaking to her.
“She was a sweetheart.”
For some reason, her chest tightened.
“…That name’s terrible,” she muttered.
“She’s way too pretty for that.”
He snorted.
“You thought the same thing.”
“So where is she now? Did I raise her? Or you?”
“She disappeared the same day you did.”
“Oh… um… so you lost her?”
“I thought if I found you, I’d find her too. But I was wrong.”
Did I… take the cat with me?
Questions bubbled up inside her, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Whenever he said it’s a secret, he always had that same expression.
________✧⑅˖♡∘˚˳°↝^._.^_________
Before long, the sun began to set.
Hae-in was exhausted—physically and mentally. They’d walked so much, and she’d learned far too many things. Her head felt ready to burst.
She had lived around here. She had dated him. He had quit his job and searched everywhere for her.
She didn’t remember any of it—but all of it was true.
Hae-in realized now that she owed him an apology—for forgetting him.
The words wouldn’t come easily, though.
“Where are we?”
She thought they were heading back to the car, but instead, he led her to a small clearing.
“Sit here.”
“Hm?”
“And shake this.”
What he handed her were small sample packs of cat food they’d picked up earlier at the hospital—tiny pouches with printed cat faces.
Why does he want me to sit here in the park and shake cat food?
She didn’t understand, but since his words had mostly been right so far, she did as he said.
Rustle, rustle.
“Like this?”
No sooner had she shaken the bag than the nearby bushes began to rustle violently.
“Meow?”
“Me-yow!”
“Myaaa?”
Several cats leapt out of the bushes and fixed their bright eyes on Haein’s face. Then, as if recognizing her, they immediately ran toward her with obvious delight.
“Wh–what? What’s happening?”
Weren’t cats supposed to hiss or run away from strangers?
Startled, Hae-in tried to retreat from the crowd of cats closing in on her—but cats could climb anything, and before she knew it, they had conquered even her shoulders.
Half-standing, she froze, then sat back down carefully on the bench as cats rubbed against her from every direction. Their touch was soft and unfamiliar.
“I get it now. This is… a cat colony, isn’t it?”
“Exactly.”
From farther away, one or two more cats came running, until around a dozen of them surrounded her—ears perked, tails swishing, eyes full of curiosity.
Was shaking the cat food bag some kind of summoning spell?
“Are cats usually… like this?”
A gray cat had climbed onto her shoulder and was brushing its fur all over her face. Hae-in turned her head awkwardly toward him, speaking through the tickling fur.
He was trying not to laugh.
Don’t laugh—help me get this cat off.
Its claws pricked just enough to sting.
“Of course not. You’re the popular one here. They know you.”
“Still, this is a bit too much of a welcome, don’t you think?”
“They haven’t seen you in ages. Maybe they thought you were dead and are just happy you’re alive.”
“Cats… do that?”
“They can. Though that one’s kneading your head, you see that?”
“Ke–kneading?”
“It means they’re happy.”
A few more cats appeared, each one approaching her like an old friend—rubbing their faces or bodies against her legs and shoes, purring in delight.
Such affection from naturally wary animals felt surreal.
Is this what he wanted to show me?
“Cats are hard to tame,” he said.
“They don’t follow just anyone who feeds them.”
“…Then what on earth was I doing before?”
“Everything I told you not to.”
“…Ahem.”
“You were a troublemaker.”
“How rude.”
She gave him a mock glare, but his smiling face made her sigh in defeat. Only her parents had ever called her that before.
“Meow!”
“They’re asking for food.”
“Oh—oh, okay! Here, eat this.”
As the cats urged her on, she hurriedly tore open the food packets and poured them out. Somehow, she could faintly guess why she’d done this before—why she’d fed them.
Maybe she’d wanted to be remembered.
To not be forgotten.
But why?
Could it be… that I knew I’d lose my memory someday?
“They’re really happy to see you,” he said.
“It’s been so long.”
“It’s strange,” she murmured.
“That they still remember me.”
“Cats have good memories. They can remember a friend after a year—and once a cat gets hurt by someone, it can avoid humans for life.”
Among the group, one cat stood out. It was thin and fierce-looking, crouching quietly instead of eating.
“Why isn’t that one eating?”
“Oh, that’s Tabbie. I haven’t seen her in forever. She hates people and rarely shows herself. Still, she came out for you.”
“…Really?”
“You rescued her. She was abandoned one winter and nearly starved to death. You fed her, raised her. No one else could touch her. Try saying hi.”
Say hi… to a cat?
How was she supposed to do that?
As Hae-in hesitated, Siyul gently nudged her back.
She waddled over to the cat, close enough to reach out, and carefully extended her fingers.
Will it let me touch it?
“…”
“H–hi there.”
At her awkward greeting, Tabbie pressed its nose softly against her fingertips, then closed its eyes.
It blinked slowly a few times—each blink deliberate, almost meaningful.
“Ah.”
And then, just like that, it turned and disappeared into the bushes. Somehow, that felt disappointing.
“So much for being close. It just tapped my finger and left.”
“Still, it kissed you.”
“K–kissed me?”
“A cat kiss. It’s how they say hello. When a cat makes eye contact and blinks slowly, it means it trusts you.”
So that was a kiss… a sign of trust.
Back on the bench, Hae-in tried making eye contact with another cat—and to her amazement, it blinked slowly back.
“That’s incredible,” she said.
“I’m a person, and they still do that to me.”
“That just means they trust you, too.”
When he said that and blinked slowly at her himself, the moment felt oddly intimate—like an actual kiss.
Her heart leapt.
“Wh–what are you doing?!”
“Just blinking.”
“Liar!”
“It means I trust you. And… that I like you.”
What kind of man says things like that so calmly?
How on earth had she ended up dating someone like him?
Hae-in hid her burning face in her hands, pressing her forehead to her knees.
It wasn’t just embarrassment—she was realizing that this man truly was special to her.
It was absurd. A man who had appeared one day already held a place in her heart…
No matter how much she denied it, that was reality.
“Am I really that unpleasant?”
“It’s not that. It’s just… weird. Everything is weird lately. My whole life feels strange.”
“I can handle strange things. I’m used to them. But you… you’re not, are you? Not when you don’t remember.”
He said it as though he knew something. Hae-in looked up from between her knees.
Did something strange happen to him, too?
He clearly knew more than she did—but maybe he was keeping quiet to avoid confusing her further.
Still, she leaned in closer, checking that no one was around but the cats.
“…You know,” she said softly,
“I told you before I didn’t have any secrets. But that wasn’t true. I have one.”
“What kind of secret?”
“It’s… kind of scary. I haven’t told anyone. Not even my mom. Or my doctor.”
She hesitated.
“Promise you’ll keep it secret?”
Instead of answering, he blinked slowly at her again.
“…It’s my body,”
she whispered.
“Mm.”
“All my scars are gone.”
She’d first realized it one day while showering. A small scar had vanished, and at first, she thought nothing of it—but when she checked, every scar on her body was gone.
It had terrified her.
“I had some big ones, too. From when I fell off my bike at twelve… and when I stepped on a nail. They’re all gone.”
“…And?”
“Isn’t that weird? It’s scary. Don’t you think? It feels like this isn’t even my body. Like something’s wrong.”
Her eyes trembled. She grabbed his hand without realizing it, looking as if she might cry.
“I know something happened to me,”
she said.
“But it wasn’t good. I can just… feel that.”
She’d been trying to look away from it—but this man kept bringing the memories closer, brushing the dust off things she’d rather leave buried.
He was dear to her, but at the same time, she wanted to run from the truth he carried. The pressure of both feelings crushed her.
When a person faced something beyond understanding, sometimes all they could do was stop breathing.
He gently brushed her cheek.
“I’ll say this,” he murmured.
“…What?”
“You’re you. Who else could you be?”
Siyul held her unmoving hand carefully, his lashes low as he examined her left hand.
“There really isn’t a single scar.”
“There never was one there.”
“That’s good. Scars are better gone.”
“Ugh, are you even listening? I said it’s scary.”
Her tone was serious, but he didn’t seem troubled at all—if anything, he looked relieved, which only made her sigh again.
He traced her left hand from the fingertips, between the knuckles, over the back of her hand, up her wrist and arm, all the way to her elbow.
“I heard your left hand doesn’t move,” he said quietly.
“And all your scars disappeared. Anything else strange?”
“…Not really. Unless being too healthy counts.”
That was what all the doctors had said.
She let him hold her hand because, even though he was a vet, he was still a doctor.
“So you can feel things, but you can’t move it? It doesn’t hurt when you try?”
“No. I can feel everything just fine. It just won’t move. The doctors said they couldn’t explain it either.”
“Don’t be afraid. You’ve just… found your place again. That’s what I think.”
As she listened to his calm, low voice, she felt like he didn’t just know her—he understood her better than she did herself.
No one else could have reassured her like this.
“Anyway, it’s a relief,” he said softly.
“You don’t have to cry anymore. You won’t have to worry about what’s next.”
“…Did I cry that much?”
“You cried a lot.”
“That’s weird. I don’t even like crying.”
Even when his hand moved from hers to her cheek, she didn’t pull away. She only wanted to close her eyes and stay like that a little longer.
In moments like this, she could almost remember why she’d loved him.
“You’d cry and say, ‘I’m not usually like this,’ almost defensively. And when I didn’t believe you, you’d get mad. You’re right, though—you don’t seem like the type to cry in front of others. Maybe I should be grateful you cried in front of me.”
“Why would I have cried… that’s so weird.”
“You said you had a lot of secrets. You couldn’t tell anyone anything, and that frustrated you. I think I understand that now.”
The man who now carried her secrets didn’t look burdened at all. Maybe that was the difference—she’d found keeping secrets painful, though she didn’t even remember what hers were.
“What kind of secret was it?” she asked.
“How would I know? It was your secret. Though… I do know one thing. It was big.”
“…How big?”
“You sometimes…”
“Sometimes what?”
“Turned into a cat.”
He’d built it up like he was going to tell her something profound—only to say that.
“Seriously?” she muttered, frowning.
“You were like a cat, I mean.”
She couldn’t tell if that was supposed to be a compliment or an insult. She was a bit like a cat—temperamental, moody, sensitive, lazy…
And—
As she mentally listed her flaws, she looked at the man beside her and couldn’t help but think how patient he must have been. Dating her couldn’t have been easy.
She wasn’t the gentle type. And judging from how he spoke, she’d probably caused her share of trouble too.
“…I’m sorry,”
she said quietly.
“Sorry? For what?”
“For forgetting you.”
The apology came out in a small, faltering voice. It was hard to apologize for something she couldn’t even remember—but she was the one at fault, wasn’t she?
Her shoulders drooped, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything—as if he hadn’t expected an apology at all.
“Haein.”
“…Yes?”
“If you’re sorry,” he said,
“then take it back—your ring.”
“What—how did we get to that?”
Before she could stop him, Siyul slipped off the ring that hung loosely on his pinky and pressed it into her palm. He was always giving her things.
“The ring should go back to its owner. You admitted we dated, didn’t you?”
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I’m not ready! Mentally, emotionally—just, no!”
“Come on. Give me your hand. I’ll put it on for you.”
When she struggled to refuse, he caught her left hand gently and moved to slip the ring on himself. Her left hand couldn’t move, so she couldn’t resist.
This is too embarrassing! Too much! A man putting a ring on a woman’s left hand—it’s practically a proposal!
“Wait! I’ll—I’ll do it myself!”
“Good choice.”
He tricked me. Again.
Hae-in looked down at the silver ring resting neatly in her palm and realized she could never win against this man.
“This doesn’t feel right somehow…”
she muttered, pouting—but she didn’t really hate it.
“Hey, Hae-in.”
“Yes?”
She tried the ring on her ring finger—it fit perfectly. Too perfectly.
So it really is mine…
“We never actually broke up, you know,”
he said.
“…What do you mean?”
“I mean we’re still together.”
Her throat went dry. She had a feeling this man’s relentless advance was only just beginning.
“I—I’m still not ready,”
she stammered.
“Then let’s start over,” he said.
“…Oh no.”
“The second time, I’ll do even better. I know everything you like.”
He probably didn’t realize —that the thing she liked most was him.
It would take time to get used to everything again, but Hae-in decided she should start practicing calling his name.
Kang.
Kang… I really like you.
She couldn’t say it aloud yet—but she already knew.
From the day they met.
<Side Story 1 : End >
