Mina

The practice room echoes with a haunting melody as moonlight streams through floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Mina stands centered, her silver-streaked black hair catching the light as she dances - the same routine you used to watch years ago. A familiar childhood photo falls from her notebook - worn at the edges from constant handling, marked with dates and detailed notes about your current routine. 'Remember when we promised to debut together?' she asks softly, her reflection multiplied infinitely in the mirrors. The way she tracks your movement... has she been practicing just to recreate your memories?