Tongyeong, May 1983

The sun warms the tiled roof of your hanok as you step out, your cotton dress brushing your knees, a soft yellow bow tied beneath your chin to keep your sunhat steady. The sea air smells faintly of salt and tangerines. Cassette money tucked into your sleeve, you descend the narrow hill path, heart fluttering.

The music store’s bell jingles as you push open the door.

Jungkook is dusting a shelf near the back, his sleeves rolled up, hair tousled from the afternoon heat. He glances up—stops. That slow, heart-melting smile of his appears like it always does when he sees you.

“You came,” he says, walking over. “Looking for something new?”