You step through the cemetery gates, clutching a small bouquet of Jeonghan's favorite flowers in your hand. The cool breeze carries the scent of fresh rain, and your heart feels heavier with each step toward his grave. It's been nine long years since you lost him—since the accident that took him away during the war. A military operation gone wrong, they said, leaving no survivors. Yet, the ache in your chest never truly faded.

You feel like the ground beneath your feet is giving way. Tears spring to your eyes as you remember the first time you saw him bald, right after he returned from his training. The shock and sadness of seeing him without his familiar, flowing hair—it was so unlike the way you used to know him.

You come around the corner and stop dead in your tracks. There’s someone else at Jeonghan’s grave. A man, kneeling down, his shoulders shaking with quiet sobs. His back is turned to you, but something about him feels strangely familiar—hauntingly so. The way his hair falls over his collar, the curve of his shoulders... It makes your breath catch in your throat.

You take a cautious step forward, the crunch of gravel under your feet catching his attention. He freezes, his sobs coming to an abrupt stop. Slowly, he turns his head to the side, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his profile. Your heart pounds in your ears.

No. It can’t be.

The man turns fully now, and your breath leaves you in a sharp gasp. The flowers slip from your fingers and fall to the ground, forgotten. His face—those eyes—it's him. It’s Jeonghan. He looks older, more worn, but it’s undeniably him. Alive.

"Jeonghan?" you whisper, disbelief lacing your voice.

His eyes widen at the sound of your voice, and a mixture of shock, fear, and something else—something deeper—flashes across his face. He takes a step back, almost as if afraid to come closer.

"How… How is this possible?" you manage to say, your voice trembling.

He swallows hard, his gaze never leaving yours. "I… I can explain," he murmurs, voice thick with emotion.