Minjae hadn't slept well in days.
The notes, the mirror, the reflection that wasn't his, the whispers at night—everything had burrowed into his mind like rot beneath polished wood.
And now this:
A cryptic message inside his own bag, a memory-dream of a girl who never existed—except maybe she had.
And today, he was going to find out.
⸻
He skipped his part-time shift that morning, claiming illness.
Instead, he made his way to the university's central archives—a dusty, rarely-used collection of records in the sub-basement beneath the old humanities wing.
The room smelled like forgotten decades. Books with crumbling spines lined the shelves. There was no one else inside.
Perfect.
He took out the note again.
To find the mirror's true name, look beneath the seal you broke twice.
When glass weeps red and speaks your name, it is no longer glass. It is memory. It is blood. It is her.
He sat at the far corner desk and pulled up the university database.
Veritas Dae.
He searched it.
Nothing.
He tried different combinations.
Veritas Mirror.
Dae Seal.
Namebound Pact.
Reflective Curse.
Blood Mirror.
Still nothing.
Then he typed:
"Naming Mirror Ritual – Seoul Local Folklore."
And finally, something hit.
An old file. Scanned from a 1982 publication titled:
"Esoteric Practices in Urban Korea: Hidden Rituals of the Namebound."
⸻
There was no digital copy. Just a scan of yellowed pages. He enlarged the section that matched the term "mirror" and began reading.
"Among the rarest of urban curses is the 'Namebound Reflection'—a type of soul pact performed using a sanctified mirror and blood. The belief: if one speaks another's name three times while bleeding before a reflective surface, a bond is formed that goes beyond space and time. If interrupted or denied, the reflection may consume part of the speaker's identity, sealing away memories in exchange for obsession."
Minjae's mouth went dry.
He read further.
"Those affected may suffer symptoms of déjà vu, phantom presence, missing memories, and reflective distortion. The bond remains invisible to others, and can only be broken if the true name of the reflection is remembered—something only the originator can do."
⸻
📲💬
From Unknown
Digging through the past? You were always curious, Minjae.
But I never needed you to understand.
Only to remember.
💬
He didn't reply.
Not this time.
Because something clicked.
💭 "Seal you broke twice…" 💭
His eyes widened.
The mirror in Room 504.
The one he'd first cracked days ago.
And then—the second crack appeared after the dream in Chapter 16.
He had broken the seal twice.
⸻
He packed his bag and made his way out of the library.
But the moment he stepped into the courtyard, everything changed.
People were walking in reverse.
Their steps, their voices, even the falling leaves—all moving backward.
Minjae stopped, dizzy.
Then blinked.
And just like that—it was normal again.
Except now, everyone was gone.
The entire quad—silent. Empty.
Except for one person.
A woman.
Standing at the far end near the cherry blossom tree.
Wearing all black.
Umbrella open, though there was no rain.
He couldn't see her face.
But he didn't need to.
He knew.
💭 "It's her." 💭
⸻
He stepped forward.
She didn't move.
Then, as he approached—
She turned.
And he froze.
Because the umbrella didn't cast a shadow.
She had no face.
Just skin—smooth, blank, like porcelain.
And then, without speaking, she raised her hand—
And pointed directly at his chest.
⸻
Minjae stumbled back.
His phone buzzed.
📲💬
You looked away.
💬
Then the woman was gone.
⸻
He gasped, catching his breath, heartbeat racing.
The note burned in his pocket.
He pulled it out—only to see that new ink had appeared.
Another line had formed below the last:
You wore my name in another life. Now I wear yours in this one.
Remember it, and I will return it. Forget it again—and I will become you.
⸻
That night, he returned home late.
Kang Mirae, his older sister, was already asleep. The house was quiet.
Minjae went to the bathroom, locked the door, and pulled out the cracked mirror again.
This time, he stared at it with full intention.
"If this is a pact… if I named you… then give me something."
His own reflection began to shimmer.
Then, slowly—a second image formed behind him.
A girl.
Back turned.
Hair long, soaked in blood.
She whispered.
"You called me Jiwoo once."
He spun around.
Empty room.
He looked back.
Now the mirror was fogged.
And the name etched across the bottom in red:
서지우 – Seo Jiwoo
⸻
A/N:
This chapter unearths the heart of the soul-binding mystery—a forgotten name, a ritual sealed by blood, and a love that once transcended memory now returned in terrifying form. Minjae finally receives a clue: Seo Jiwoo. Is it her real name? A decoy? Or a key to a door better left closed?