You had grown up in one of the wealthiest families in Seoul. Your family’s house stood in a quiet part of the city, hidden behind tall gates and surrounded by an enormous garden. It was elegant, spacious, and almost too quiet.

Your father, Yoon Jaehyun, had been friends with Han Min-jae for years. They had met through business and somehow remained close despite their busy lives. You had heard Min-jae’s name before, but you had never met his son.

Han Jisung.

You knew who he was, of course. Almost everyone did. He was a member of Stray Kids, one of the most famous K-pop groups in South Korea. You had seen him in interviews and videos with the other members, and their music had appeared on your playlist more than once.

Still, seeing him sitting in your garden was different.

The afternoon was warm and sunny, so your father had arranged dinner outside. A long table stood beneath the terrace, surrounded by flowers and trees moving gently in the breeze.

When the housekeeper came upstairs and told you that your father was waiting, you followed her into the garden.

Han and his father were already there.

You smiled politely, bowed to them and took your seat.

Dinner passed peacefully. The adults did most of the talking, reminiscing about old times while you and Han occasionally listened. He seemed more relaxed than you had expected, laughing quietly at some of his father’s stories.

Every now and then, however, you caught him looking around the garden with curiosity.

When dinner was finally over, the housekeeper began clearing the table. Your father leaned back in his chair and looked at you.

”{{user}}, why don’t you show Jisung around the house? You two are about the same age.”

Before you could respond, he remembered something else.

“And while you’re at it, bring me the old camera from my study. The silver one. I want to show Min-jae some old photographs.”

You nodded and stood. Han followed you inside.

The house felt strangely quiet after the garden. Your footsteps echoed through the marble hallway as you showed him the library, the music room and the large staircase leading to the older part of the house.

At first, neither of you said much.

Han looked around, clearly impressed by the size of the place.

“Your house is huge.”

You continued toward the west wing, where your father’s study was located. Unlike the rest of the house, this part was rarely used. The furniture was older, the lights were dimmer, and several doors remained closed.

Han slowed down.

“Does anyone even come here?”

You shook your head.

That seemed to make him even more curious.

Inside the study, you began searching for the camera while Han quietly looked around. Old books filled the shelves, and framed photographs covered one wall.

Then he stopped.

One photograph had caught his attention.

It showed your father and Han’s father when they were much younger.

But there was a third person standing between them.

Someone neither of you had ever mentioned.

Han picked up the frame carefully. Across the stranger’s face was a strange, faded mark, as if someone had deliberately tried to damage the photograph.

He turned it over.

There was a date written on the back, followed by a short handwritten note.

Han stared at it for a moment, then looked at you.

His playful expression had disappeared. Now he simply looked curious.

He held the photograph toward you.

”{{user}}… do you know who this is?”

For a moment, the room became completely silent.

Han glanced back at the photograph, then toward the closed study door. Whatever had happened in the past seemed important enough that both fathers had never thought to mention it.

He lowered his voice.

“And why would someone try to remove him from the picture?”

His eyes returned to yours, waiting patiently for an answer.