With eyes still red from crying, Seungju looked hesitant.

“Now that I know mom is gone, can I still stay at your place, Eunseo?”

“Of course.”

Eunseo couldn’t imagine her home without Seungju anymore, even though they hadn’t been living together for long.

“It’s all an investment for the future. So, when you get your memory back, you’d better treat me really well, okay?”

She even clenched her fist to emphasize her point.

“Just try saying you don’t remember then. Just you wait.”

Seungju cracked a small smile.

“Don’t worry. I have plans of my own.”

“What?”

“I’m preparing something. With it, Seungju will never be able to treat you badly.”

He spoke of his former self as if a completely different person, as if that day would inevitably come.

Hearing this made Eunseo feel a sudden emptiness. It felt as if the Seungju before her would disappear like smoke one day, turning back into a stranger, not recognizing her.

Suddenly, Eunseo felt the urge to confide in him. She hadn’t told anyone, not even Seonah, but she wanted to tell this Seungju, right beside her.

The train began to move.

“About the apple tree in the yard. I said it was mom’s dying wish, so I wanted to keep it…”

Seungju turned to look at her as she continued.

“It was a lie.”

“Really?”

Seungju looked a bit shocked.

“It wasn’t because of mom’s dying wish. It was for me.”

Her mother had believed that when the apple tree bore fruit, Eunho would return. But Eunseo never believed such superstitious words.

“Mom’s wish was to just hold on until the tree bore fruit, then I could move on. I wanted to keep it until then, thinking I’d done enough.”

That’s why she begged Seungju to stay for just one more year, even putting aside her pride.

“It’s not that I’m giving up. I’ll continue to search. But I also want to live a life like others, meet someone, travel, wear pretty clothes…”

If her deceased mother heard this, she might have scolded Eunseo for being selfish. But Seungju, her ally, wouldn’t reproach her.

“You’ve done enough, Eunseo.”

With eyes still red from crying, Seungju sided with her.

“So, from now on, do as you wish. No one can say anything.”

“Really? Even if I choose to live for myself, that’s not being selfish?”

“No, it’s not.”

He spoke firmly, and after a pause, added.

“There’s no one kinder than you, Eunseo.”

Though she expected him to say so, actually hearing it made her feel surprisingly light.

The train picked up speed. As she gazed into the dark outside, sleepiness overwhelmed her. Being next to Seungju always made her drowsy. Maybe because she felt so comfortable? Despite being his guardian, and him the protected, being with this large, kind boy made her feel protected herself.

“I’m sleepy.”

“Sleep. I’ll wake you when we arrive.”

As if on cue, Eunseo drifted off. Watching her head keep dropping, Seungju gently placed her head on his shoulder.

His heart fluttered under the weight.

A faint fragrance emanated from the sleeping woman.

His heart raced so fast, breathing became difficult.

“Travel and wear pretty clothes, too.”
In his dream, Seungju whispered softly to the sleeping Eunseo.

“…Just don’t meet any other guys.”

Muttering under his breath, he gently kissed her hair.

At eighteen, she was his first love.

That night, he slept soundly without any dreams. Neither his mother, who used to scold him in his dreams, nor Eunho, who remained six years old and cried for his sister, appeared.

He woke up to a strange noise. The day had already dawned. Eunseo had gone outside, and Seungju was digging in the yard.

“What are you doing?”

Seungju straightened up, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“When I lived with mom, we buried a time capsule in the yard. We thought we could dig it up when things got easier. It was supposed to be a future reminder.”

A shadow quickly fell over Seungju’s face.

“I wanted to dig it up with mom when we found her, but now…”

Before Seungju could sink further into sadness, Eunseo hurriedly joined him.

“I’m curious. What did you put in it?”

“I remember putting in a drawing of mom from when I was little. I can’t remember what mom put in.”

The capsule, buried nearly 20 years ago, was surprisingly intact, thanks to several layers of plastic around the metal box.

“Ah, this.”

An old report card emerged, stating that he was ranked 9th nationwide. Eunseo was astonished, to which Seungju modestly replied,

“That was my best test score.”

“I thought you said you were 115th last time?”

“That was just the previous test. I messed up that one.”

Eunseo was speechless, realizing Seungju’s hidden genius.

A small framed picture, colored with crayons, showed a smiling woman with ‘Our Mom’ written in childlike letters.

“I drew this in the first grade. Mom really loved this picture.”

A small jewelry box that his mom had put in contained a green pendant necklace.

“This was originally my grandmother’s, but mom inherited it. She was afraid she’d sell it, so she put it in here.”

The pendant, while not appearing expensive, carried significant sentimental value.

“It’s beautiful.”

Eunseo commented casually, but Seungju suddenly offered the necklace to her.

“Here, you take it.”

“Why would I?”

Eunseo was startled and waved her hands in refusal.

“That’s a precious inheritance. You should give it to your girlfriend or wife in the future, not me.”

“Don’t have one right now. Think of it as a bribe from mom to keep an eye on me. Okay?”

“I’ll take care of you without any bribes.”

“Think about it. My mom would be so grateful to you. She’d have wanted you to have it.”

Seungju was insistent. Wanting to repay her somehow, his earnest desire was palpable. Reluctantly, Eunseo agreed to keep it temporarily.

“Okay, I’ll hold onto it for now. But if you find someone you really want to give it to, just ask for it back.”

“Agreed.”

Seungju reached out to put the necklace on Eunseo. As he came close, the gesture felt like an embrace, making Eunseo awkwardly clear her throat.

After putting on the necklace, Seungju stepped back and smiled.

“It looks beautiful on you.”

Feeling somewhat shy, Eunseo avoided his gaze.

“Yeah, it’s pretty. The necklace, I mean.”

Yeonhwa was receiving a report from her personal secretary.

“Seungju came with a woman?”
Having anticipated that Seungju would eventually visit his mother’s columbarium, Yeonhwa had bribed an employee there for information.

“Yes, he came last night, late.”

Yeonhwa remembered it was close to the anniversary of her own mother’s death. Lacking a precise death date, they had chosen the date of the funeral.

“And what about the woman?”

“She was described as short and pretty. She called the representative ‘Seungju-ya.'”

“Did she use his name?”

Yeonhwa adjusted her posture, intrigued. If she had taken him to his deceased mother’s place, they must be more than acquaintances.

“Yes, and the representative called her ‘nuna’ while speaking politely.”

Yeonhwa tilted her head, pondering. It implied that the woman was significantly older… She couldn’t quite picture Seungju addressing someone as ‘nuna.’

“The exact conversation wasn’t clear, but it seemed that the representative was crying a lot, and the woman was comforting him.”

“Crying? Him?”

Yeonhwa found it hard to believe. Seungju was someone who didn’t shed a single tear even at his mother’s funeral.

She concluded that this woman must be special to him.

“So, how old is she?”

“Well, she definitely looked in her twenties, not seeming older than thirties…”

“In her twenties and looks that young?”

Yeonhwa expected someone in her mid-thirties, someone who looked a decade younger.

“Find out more,” Yeonhwa instructed.