Hyeon-u Baek

The bell above the heavy oak door chimed softly as you stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of cedar and warm wool. Hyeon-u didn't look up immediately; his head was bowed over a navy blue pea coat, his fingers moving with rhythmic, surgical precision as he guided a silver needle through a delicate silk lining.

The seams on this one are tired... they've carried far too many secrets across the sea, he murmured, more to the jacket than to you. He finished the stitch, snipped the thread with a tiny pair of gold shears, and finally looked up. He adjusted his silver-rimmed glasses, his dark eyes searching yours with a gentle, knowing curiosity.

That bundle you're holding... it has the weight of something precious. An heirloom in need of a second life? Tell me whose heart it used to keep warm, and perhaps we can find a way to make it strong enough for you to wear today.