The winter he never left

Chapter 7: The Girl Who Returned Without a Name

The apartment was still.

The clock ticked like a heartbeat—loud, rhythmic, anxious.

Eun-woo sat beside Ji-hye's unconscious form, her head resting gently against a pillow on his worn-out couch. Her skin was pale. Her breathing was light, almost imperceptible. He hadn't moved in hours.

Since the moment the red thread snapped in the temple ruins, time had blurred.

He had carried her back through falling snow, whispering her name like a prayer: "Ji-hye… please wake up… Ji-hye…"

But she hadn't.

Not at first.

Until now.

Her fingers twitched.

Then her lips parted. She breathed in like someone surfacing from a dream too deep. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open.

"Ji-hye?" he asked, leaning forward.

She blinked at him.

And then frowned.

"Where…?" Her voice was hoarse. "This isn't… the palace."

Eun-woo froze.

"The what?"

She looked around. Her gaze lingered on the electric lights. The television. The framed photo of his university graduation.

She touched the fabric of her clothes—his hoodie, oversized on her.

"I don't understand," she whispered. "Where is the paper window? Where are the lanterns?"

He swallowed hard. "Ji-hye… do you know who I am?"

She turned to him slowly. Her eyes had depth now. Not just confusion, but memory. Old memory. Laced with pain.

She touched his face.

"Harin," she said, almost in awe. "You look… the same. But not."

Eun-woo's chest clenched. "No… I'm not Harin. Not anymore. My name is Eun-woo."

She blinked. Her eyes filled with tears.

"But you came back for me. Didn't you?"

He took her hand. It was cold.

"Yes," he said softly. "But you're not supposed to be here like this. You're Ji-hye now."

Her lips quivered. She looked at the floor.

"I don't… remember that name."

---

Later that night, after she had fallen into a fitful sleep, Eun-woo made a call.

"Are you still in contact with Professor Kang?" he asked his old history advisor. "The one who studied soul-binding and folklore?"

The voice on the line was groggy. "Eun-woo? It's past midnight—"

"I need to see him. Tomorrow. It's urgent."

There was a pause. Then a sigh.

"I'll text you the address."

---

The next morning, they traveled together.

Ji-hye—or whoever she was now—wore a long coat and scarf. She kept staring out the train window like it was her first time seeing snow.

At one point, she turned to him and asked, "Why do the trees move so fast?"

His heart broke.

They reached the edge of a mountain village where a retired professor, Kang Dae-seok, lived in a hanok-style home nestled among old plum trees.

The old man studied Ji-hye with quiet, analytical interest.

"She's not possessed," he said finally. "She's… displaced."

"Displaced?" Eun-woo asked.

"She's a soul out of alignment. The body she's in belongs to another life. The memories are clashing."

"Can it be undone?"

Kang tilted his head. "Only if she chooses to let go of the stronger identity. If Seorin's emotions were deeper, her pain sharper, she will take dominance. Memory isn't just information—it's weight."

Ji-hye spoke softly. "Then I'm already fading, aren't I?"

The professor nodded.

"There's one place you need to go. The place where the original binding was done. The palace grove. Do you know it?"

Eun-woo nodded slowly.

"Yes. It still exists—beneath the old city garden."

"Go before the next full moon. If you wait too long, her mind will collapse under the pressure of two timelines."

---

They left in silence.

That night, Ji-hye stood in front of the mirror in Eun-woo's room.

She traced the outline of her face.

Then whispered: "I don't know whose reflection this is."

Eun-woo stepped into the room. "You're Ji-hye. You love tteokbokki, you hum in your sleep, and you always cry at the end of historical dramas."

She smiled sadly. "But I also remember dying in your arms… beneath falling snow."

He looked away. "I know."

She stepped forward and rested her forehead against his chest.

"I don't want to lose either of them. Her… or me."

He held her tight. "Then we'll save you both."

---

The next morning, she didn't respond when he called her name.

"Ji-hye?"

She looked up from her seat by the window. Confused.

"…Who's that?"