One Year

In One Year (2026), memory isn’t just fragile—it’s vanishing. For Yoon Jae-seo and Han Ga-eul, young lovers already carrying quiet scars, the world has begun erasing moments like chalk in rain. First go the trivial things: a favorite café’s name, a first-argument date. Then come the anniversaries, the whispered promises, the shape of a laugh. Given just twelve months before even their faces blur into strangers, the two embark on a quiet, devastating pact: to fall in love anew every single day. No grand gestures—just sticky notes, voice memos, and the stubborn ritual of showing up. As Jae-seo’s memories slip like sand, Ga-eul becomes both his anchor and his ghost. One Year isn’t a tragedy of forgetting. It’s a tender, aching romance about choice—proving that love, when held deliberately, can outlast the mind that holds it.