Chapter Prologue: The Place She Ran To
New Zealand felt like breathing for the first time.
The air was different here—cleaner, lighter, as if it carried none of the weight Kang Nia had once known. The skies stretched endlessly, painted in soft blues and drifting clouds, and the wind carried a kind of freedom she had never felt back home.
Nia liked to think that maybe… this place had no memory of her.
And that was exactly why she stayed.
“NIAAAA! You’re going to be late again!”
A voice echoed from inside the apartment, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps. Nia let out a small laugh, her fingers still wrapped around the railing of the balcony as she took in the morning view one last time.
“I’m not late,” she called back, her tone playful. “I’m just fashionably delayed.”
The door slid open behind her, and her best friend, Kim Jisoo, appeared with an exasperated look that quickly melted into a smile.
“You say that every day,” Jisoo sighed, crossing her arms. “One day your boss is going to fire you.”
“He won’t,” Nia replied easily, turning around with a bright grin. “He likes me too much.”
Jisoo raised an eyebrow. “Delusional.”
“Confident,” Nia corrected, grabbing her bag and slipping past her.
Their laughter filled the small apartment, warm and easy, like it always did. Life here was simple. Predictable. Safe.
And Nia had built it that way.
Her days were busy, but in the best way possible.
Work at the small design studio kept her occupied, surrounded by colors, ideas, and people who didn’t ask too many questions about her past. Evenings were spent with Jisoo—cooking, talking, sometimes doing absolutely nothing except sitting side by side in comfortable silence.
It was peaceful.
She was peaceful.
At least… that’s what she told herself.
Her phone rang just as she stepped out onto the street.
Nia glanced at the screen—and froze.
“Mom.”
The word alone was enough to make something tighten in her chest.
For a second, she considered ignoring it.
But she didn’t.
She never could.
“Hello?” she answered, trying to keep her voice light.
“Nia,” her mother’s voice came, gentle but firm. “Are you busy?”
“A little,” Nia replied, walking slower now. “What’s wrong?”
There was a pause.
The kind of pause that always meant something important was coming.
“I want you to come back to Korea.”
Her steps stopped completely.
The world around her kept moving—cars passing, people talking, wind brushing against her skin—but Nia felt like she had been pulled out of it entirely.
“…Why?” she asked quietly.
“There’s someone we want you to meet,” her mother continued. “A good family. He’s the son of your father’s close friend.”
Nia let out a breath, almost a laugh—but there was no humor in it.
“A blind date?” she said.
“It’s not just a date,” her mother corrected softly. “We think he would be good for you.”
Good for you.
The words felt heavy.
“I’m not interested,” Nia said immediately. “Mom, I told you—I don’t want—”
“You’ve been alone for too long.”
That made her fall silent.
Her grip on the phone tightened slightly.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, though her voice wasn’t as steady as before. “I like my life here.”
“I know,” her mother said, and there was something almost apologetic in her tone. “But you can’t keep running forever, Nia.”
Running.
The word hit deeper than it should have.
Because it was true.
Nia closed her eyes briefly, the past brushing against her like a shadow she could never fully escape.
“I’m not running,” she whispered.
But even she didn’t believe it.
“Just come once,” her mother continued gently. “If you don’t like him, we won’t force you. I promise.”
Silence stretched between them.
Nia looked up at the sky—the same sky that had once felt like freedom.
Now, it felt like a question.
“…Okay,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”
That night, the apartment was quieter than usual.
Jisoo had gone to bed early, leaving Nia alone in the living room with only the dim light of a lamp and the sound of her own thoughts.
Her suitcase lay open on the floor.
But she hadn’t packed yet.
Instead, she found herself sitting in front of a box she hadn’t touched in years.
It was old—slightly worn at the edges, taped shut like something meant to stay closed.
Nia stared at it for a long moment.
Then, slowly, she opened it.
Memories spilled out in silence.
Old notebooks. Faded letters. A small toy she didn’t even remember keeping. Photographs tucked between pages like secrets that had never been told.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked one up.
A piece of paper—creased, delicate.
She didn’t need to read it to know what it was.
She remembered everything.
Too well.
A faint smile touched her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“…It’s been a long time,” she murmured.
Sometimes, she heard about him.
Not directly. Never directly.
But enough.
Enough to know that he had become someone big. Someone known. Someone the world admired.
A famous idol.
Nia let out a quiet breath, her gaze dropping back to the box.
She had never searched for him.
Never tried to reach out.
Because some distances were meant to stay.
And some people…
…were meant to stay in the past.
“I don’t want to go back,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Korea wasn’t just a place.
It was memories.
It was love.
It was heartbreak.
It was everything she had tried so hard to leave behind.
Her fingers curled slightly around the edge of the box.
Because going back meant facing it all again.
Every moment.
Every feeling.
Every version of herself she no longer recognized.
Nia closed the box gently, as if afraid the memories might escape.
But they already had.
They always did.
Lying in bed that night, she stared at the ceiling, sleep far from her reach.
Her mind drifted—unwanted, uninvited.
To laughter under soft spring skies.
To warmth that once felt like home.
To a summer that burned too brightly, leaving behind ashes she still carried.
And to something else.
Something she couldn’t quite name.
A feeling that lingered quietly, like a story that hadn’t finished yet.
Nia turned to her side, pulling the blanket closer.
“…It’s just a trip,” she told herself.
Just a visit.
Just a date.
Just going back.
But deep down—
She knew.
Some returns weren’t simple.
Some places didn’t just welcome you back.
They reminded you of everything you tried to forget.
And somewhere in that distant city…
Her past was still waiting.
To be continued....... 😊
