The ride to the Sunday market wasn't as long as Hana had expected. With two plastic bags in hand, she trailed behind Hans, who lugged heavy boxes on his own. The morning air was crisp, and the streets were already buzzing with people setting up stalls. Hana's eyes scanned the rows of vibrant cakes lining the tables ahead, each one meticulously decorated.
"Hans! Dear!" An older woman's voice cut through the hum of the crowd.
Hana turned, spotting the woman—Miss Aiko, an old family friend. She stood near their cake stall, waving enthusiastically at Hans. But her joyful demeanor faltered slightly when she noticed Hana, her smile becoming more reserved.
"Miss Aiko," Hana murmured, taken aback by the change in her expression. "Thank you for helping out today."
Jenna, Hana's younger sister, approached with her usual bright energy, shaking Miss Aiko's hand. "It's nothing, really," Jenna chirped. "How's your mother doing?"
"She says she's fine." Jenna sighed, though her voice betrayed her weariness. Their mother had been stubborn as ever, refusing help even when her frail body clearly needed it.
"Stubborn as always," Miss Aiko agreed, patting Jenna's shoulder. Her gaze shifted back to Hana, observing her as she unpacked jars of jam. "Tell me... does your sister still not remember?"
Jenna stiffened, her discomfort palpable. "Y-yeah, mostly," she replied, her voice strained.
"I see," Miss Aiko continued, her tone softening. "What those mafia did to her... I can't even imagine—"
Jenna snapped. "You better keep that mouth of yours shut, Aiko, or I'll rip that wig right off your head!" Her voice was low but seething, eyes blazing with barely contained rage.
Miss Aiko flinched, her face blanching at Jenna's outburst. But Jenna quickly composed herself, forcing a smile before turning back to Hana, who watched her sister with a puzzled expression.
"Nothing," Jenna muttered, brushing off Hana's unspoken question.
The morning bustle soon picked up. Customers crowded their stall, eager to buy the cakes and jams that had become a local favorite. As the day wore on, the heat began to settle in, and Hans handed the sisters bottles of water, his face flushed from the hard work.
"Here," he said, passing them the drinks. Hana gratefully accepted, glancing around as she sipped. Her gaze landed on a car parked nearby. There was something about the hand dangling out of the window, cigarette smoke curling lazily into the air, that unsettled her.
"Can I get two orange jams?" A familiar voice pulled her from her thoughts.
Hana turned to see Detective Nathan standing before her, dressed casually but with his usual amused expression. His eyes lit up as he noticed her.
"Hana!" he laughed, pointing at her with a grin. "I gave you a vacation to rest, not to sell jam!"
She flushed, embarrassed, while Jenna stood nearby, murmuring something under her breath about the "vacation." Hana shot Nathan a nervous glance, silently begging him not to elaborate. He caught on quickly.
"Uh, I mean, you know, like working from home. Yeah, that's it," he fumbled, trying to cover for her.
Jenna's suspicion didn't fully dissipate, but before she could question further, Hana handed Nathan his order. "Here's your jam, Detective Nathan. Thanks for stopping by."
Jenna's face lit up with recognition. "Wait... you're that famous detective? I didn't know my sister worked with you!"
Nathan smiled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Guilty as charged," he said, accepting the jar Jenna handed him as a gift.
Once Nathan had walked off, humming happily, Hans finally spoke up, his tone flat. "He looks like trouble."
Both sisters turned toward him, but Hans simply shrugged and sat back down on one of the boxes.
"By the way, Hans, is your mother coming today?" Jenna asked casually, though her tone held a hint of curiosity.
Hans visibly tensed, his eyes avoiding hers. "No," he muttered, both Jenna and Hana releasing subtle sighs of relief.
Hana's mind wandered back to the parked car and the tattooed hand that had caught her eye. She discreetly slipped a butter knife into her pocket, grabbing a jar of strawberry jam. "I'm going to do some extra marketing," she told Jenna, her voice casual.
Jenna hesitated but eventually nodded. "Don't push yourself too hard, Hana."
As Hana made her way toward the car, her thoughts spiraled. The tattoos on that hand—they were the same as the ones from her dreams. Her heart pounded in her chest. Could those dreams really be connected to her past? The shrine, the mountain, the man with the tattoos...
"What am I doing?" Hana muttered under her breath. She had promised herself she wouldn't dig into her past, yet here she was, drawn toward it once again.
Just as she reached the car, the man inside stepped out, his presence looming over her. He had jet-black hair and eyes that glinted with mischief.
"You," Hana stammered, her hand instinctively gripping the knife in her pocket.
The man's smirk widened. "Oh? You want to play, dear?" His voice was familiar, too familiar—the same voice from her dreams.
Hana's mind raced, her grip tightening on the knife. She had always relied on logic, but since coming to this town, nothing made sense. "W-who are you?" she demanded, her voice trembling.
The man's playful demeanor shifted, his eyes growing cold. "I see... so it's a failure this time too," he spat, kicking the ground in frustration.
Hana barely had time to react before the man pulled out a gun, pointing it directly at her. "Let's meet again... love," he muttered.
The gunshot rang out, sharp and deafening. Pain exploded in Hana's stomach as she stumbled back, her blouse stained crimson. She collapsed to the ground, her body trembling from the shock. The agony spread through her, coldness creeping up her limbs, and she gasped as the life started draining from her.
Her vision blurred, voices around her mingled in a confusing, distant cacophony. She heard someone screaming her name—Jenna? Or was it Hans? She couldn't tell. Another gunshot rang out, and the man with the tattoos collapsed beside her, his lifeless eyes staring up at the sky.
Hana's world narrowed, the pain blurring with the memories flooding her mind. And in that split second, as death inched closer, she remembered the thing she had buried deep inside—the truth she had run from.
that day when she killed Mime kidnapper .,.... it's wasn't the first this happened .it's more like she killed someone before.
Soonly the darkness came , strip way her vision to theunconsciousness world of old memories of the past.
*****
Far way from what happened a man with snake tattoos around his neck, puff the smoke from his cigarette .
His lips stretched to wide smile after observing the scene .whisper his thoughts
" I wonder ...how many times can you survive more...Kim.. Hana ".
With chunkle he close the windows of his car , then sign for his driver .
The driver look nervous trying to avoid looking at the man eyes in fear .as he hear him say in low tone
"Let go back to city "
"Yes,young master ".