“The flowers will bloom after it rains.”
Cheol wasn’t sure what he expected. A sudden onslaught of memories, perhaps, something grand and absolute. Instead, it was one memory, and then another, until he could not help but keep replaying them in his head of his own accord. Cheol’s mind felt numb, which he supposed was preferable to what could’ve been. The memories could’ve overwhelmed him completely.
The old woman stared him down from across the table as if she expected him to burst into tears at any moment as he had in the forest. Instead, he thanked her briefly and asked if she had ever considered a government position. Her artifacts could prove quite useful.
“No,” she said, still eyeing him suspiciously. “All of you politicians are the same. I have no need for any of that. I’m content with this little cabin.”
And another thing: She would take his memory of this place away, to keep him from returning and bothering her again. It was too tempting to turn to her artifacts once you knew of them. Cheol found that he did not wish to push the matter, despite all the power concentrated here. He could respect her desire to stay as far from the Palace as possible. He had once felt the same way, after all.
“One more thing,” she said, as Cheol was about to leave. “Give me your hand.” From his spot at the door, Cheol stretched out his arm to her. She placed something cold and smooth in his hand. A pair of rings?
“I assume they’re not just simple jewelry,” he said.
“Soul rings,” she said. “You cannot take them off until the other person’s soul passes on. Give it to your loved one. Don’t ever part with him again.”
His heart gave a squeeze, as his hand closed around the pair of rings. “I won’t.” He pocketed the jewelry and then paused. “Could you write it down for me? I won’t remember what they are once I leave.”
“Oh, right,” the woman grumbled, as she went about trying to find a piece of paper and pen in her cluttered cabin. “There we are. Ahem, soul rings: can’t take them off until the other person dies. How do you spell soul, boy?”
Cheol spelled it out for her, wondering how long she’s been out here to have forgotten how to write.
The woman pushed the paper into his chest. “Alright, boy. You go back to that pretty lover of yours. And don’t cry too much while you’re at it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But he did not feel like crying. He did not feel much of anything, although the image of a younger Min-jun smiling at him was ever so clear in his mind as if it had happened just yesterday.
He was pushed out of the cabin and began to walk in the direction of the river. As he descended, the memories of the cabin slowly disappeared, and instead, all Cheol could focus on were the memories of the boy from the river towns.
“Ha-jun, what are you doing over there?”
“Come on, old man Han is selling fresh persimmon cakes. You’ll love them!”
“Ha-jun, is everything alright?”
“Ha-jun.”
“Ha-jun!”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
Cheol fell back against a tree, his breathing uneven. It had been so long since he’d felt so helpless. I wish you’d call me by my name. He’d wished for that every day.
Lf recx vbkc ab atf obgfra oibbg, yfakffc oibeglrtlcu ofgcr, kfa klat gjlc. Jtfbi mieamtfv j tjcv bnfg tlr tfjga, cjlir vluulcu lcab tlr rxlc. Lf mbeiv cba mjamt tlr ygfjat. Llr nlrlbc yieggfv, jcv afjgr rbbc obiibkfv. C rby frmjqfv tlw.
You were there then, too.
. Eight Years Ago .
Jtfbi rja lc bcf bo atf jiifskjsr yfcfjat atf gbbo bo j ybbxrabgf atja vlv cbatlcu ab xffq bea atf abggfcalji gjlc. Lf kjr tecmtfv bnfg jcv ecjyif ab ygfjatf, vgfcmtfv lc gjlckjafg. Pa kjr tlr bkc ojeia obg ifaalcu tlr atbeutar ufa atf yfaafg bo tlw. Pa rajgafv klat atf wfwbgs bo tlr ojatfg kjamtlcu jr Jtfbi’r bkc rfgnjcar yfja tlw, atfc atf wfwbgs bo tlr wbatfg ojiilcu boo atf miloo jcv lcab atf vjgx glnfg yfibk. Ojvs Lsf-glc tjv rmgfjwfv atja la kjr tlr ojeia ktfc rtf obecv tlw lc atf obgfra. Vtf’v yffc gluta. Ktf yijwf kjr klat tlw jr wemt jr la kjr klat tlr ojatfg. Lf tjv cb gluta ab rffx nfcufjcmf. Ynfgatgbk j ubnfgcwfca? Jtfbi kjr cbatlcu yea j obbilrt mtliv. Qtja mtjcmf vlv tf rajcv jujlcra tlr ojatfg? Lf rtbeiv pera ub ab atf Ujijmf jcv yfu obg wfgms jigfjvs.
Suddenly, the rain stopped. But no. He could still hear it all around him. Cheol lifted his head just enough to see the oiled rain shoes of the boy in front of him.
“There you are.” Min-jun sighed, squatting down to be on eye level with him. Cheol could not meet his eyes. He was too embarrassed. If he looked into those clever brown eyes, he’d never be able to forget the pity in them.
“All of your friends are worried about you,” Min-jun said, patting Cheol’s hair with a small towel. “You’re gonna get sick if you stay out here.”
He already felt sick. Had felt that way ever since his mother passed away. As if there was a pressure on him that would never become lighter until he broke.
“Hey, look at me.” Min-jun took Cheol’s face with two hands, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Your eyes are puffy.” Min-jun ran his thumbs over the bags beneath Cheol’s eyes, as if that proved his point. “You’re not okay.”
“It’s really fine –”
“Nonsense!” Min-jun shouted, pinching Cheol’s cheeks. “Stop being so stubborn and tell me. You’re only going to get worse if you keep hiding like this. Look at you now. Are you really going to let yourself catch a cold because you’re too afraid of people seeing you cry?”
Cheol pushed Min-jun’s hands away as gently as he could. “I’m not gonna catch a cold.”
Min-jun gave him that determined look, his eyes narrowed in a glare, his lips pulled into a pout. He never gave up. That much Cheol had already learned long ago.
“I have a lot on my mind.”
“Is this about the mission you keep talking about?” Min-jun asked, sitting down beside him. For once, he did not seem to care about getting his clothes dirty. “It sounds like a whole lot of nonsense to me. Mom thinks so too. She says no one should ever be forced to do something they don’t want to do.”
“I’m afraid it’s a bit more complicated than that,” Cheol whispered.
Min-jun nodded. “She did say there are caveats.” He pouted again, slumping a little in his spot. A rare occurrence. Usually, Min-jun made sure his posture was perfect. “Is there no one who could do it instead of you?”
Cheol shook his head. There was no other heir to the throne, and he was already set on revenge. The panic returned, his stomach churning. He might vomit right here in the street and let the rain wash it away.
“Hey, hey.” Min-jun wrapped one arm around Cheol. “I’m here. It’s okay. Honestly, even if you’ve got some miserable destiny ahead of you, you should lean on other people more. It’s too sad to cry alone all the time.”
Min-jun did not understand. He did not understand the role Cheol would have to play. And Cheol prayed that Min-jun would never have to. Let Min-jun just . . . stay like this forever, safe and happy.
Cheol wasn’t quite sure when he’d allowed himself to fall into Min-jun’s embrace, but soon he had his arms around Min-jun’s waist, and his face buried in the other boy’s shoulder. Min-jun rubbed Cheol’s back reassuringly, paying no mind to the fact that Cheol was soaking wet.
‘I feel so much lighter now,’ Cheol thought, as he sunk deeper into the embrace. Soon, his eyelids began to feel heavy. Min-jun called his name, but Cheol could not wake himself up long enough to respond. He was so very tired, and Min-jun’s arms were so comforting around him. He could not help but drift off. A grievous mistake, truly.
When he woke up next, he was in a room that smelled vaguely of pine and honey. He was lying on a bed far more comfortable than the little cot he usually slept on and barring some soreness and a headache, he felt better rested than he had in years.
The sound of another person’s breathing drew his attention away from his own condition. Min-jun was lying on the floor beside him, wearing a different hanbok from the one he’d worn in the rain. Cheol turned onto his side, unable to draw his eyes away from Min-jun. He took in every detail of that graceful face, from the curve of his cheekbone to the small pout on his lips to the delicate sweep of his eyelashes. Between them, Min-jun’s hand lay partially closed, ring finger twitching every so often in his sleep. Cheol’s own hand hovered over Min-jun’s, and then, ever-so-gently, Cheol intertwined their fingers. A sliver of a smile appeared on Min-jun’s face, and all the fear and anxiety of the last day was forgotten in favor of that smile.
The doors to the room slid open, and Cheol sat up in his spot as if he’d been caught committing a crime. A woman had entered, carrying a fresh set of towels and a basin of water. Cheol stared. The resemblance could not be denied. Min-jun and this woman shared the same delicate features, the same easy smile, the same dark hair.
She must be his mother. He was in Min-jun’s house. A part of him warned that this was dangerous, but the part that cared for Min-jun, a much louder part, ordered him to stay. Don’t you want to learn more about him?
“You’re awake!” she said, happily. “And here I thought we might have to send for the physician.”
Min-jun’s mother picked up a plate of honey cakes from the table beside the door and offered them to Cheol. She had the sort of carefree energy Cheol could sometimes spot in Min-jun. The type that could lighten anybody’s day.
“Min-jun said you liked sweets,” she said. “As luck would have it, we live right next to the bakery.”
Now, a man entered the room, curious about all the noise no doubt. He did not look much like Min-jun, Cheol initially thought. But then he noticed the way he walked with so much confidence, how he crossed his arms as he surveyed the room, and the way he tilted his chin up just a bit out of habit. So that’s where he got it from.
“Luck hasn’t got a thing to do with it,” Min-jun’s father said. “It was a calculated move on your part.”
“It’s as I always say,” said Min-jun’s mother, waving her hand in the air. “Luck will occasionally need a helping hand.”
Her attention returned to Cheol. “How are you feeling, dear?”
“Just a little sore,” he replied, obediently, his back rigid as he sat with his legs folded beneath him. Beside him, Min-jun stirred a little in his sleep.
“That’s good to hear.” Min-jun’s mother sat down beside Cheol, who took tentative bites of the honey cake in his hand. It was sweet.
“I’ve been waiting to see who Min-jun has been talking about so often,” she said, putting a hand to her cheek. She was certainly a gossipmonger. “You should’ve seen the state he was in when he came back. He was up to his knees in mud! Usually, he can’t stand even getting his shoes dirty –”
Her words were cut off by a hand to her mouth. Min-jun had woken up, and now he was on his knees, his arm outstretched to keep any more embarrassing stories from leaving his mother’s lips.
“Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” he hissed, probably thinking Cheol wouldn’t hear, although they were so close their faces nearly touched. Cheol leaned away slightly, trying to keep his face from flushing. All in vain, of course.
Min-jun’s mother pried her son’s hand off her face. “Oh, Min-jun, what is there to be embarrassed about? There’s no shame in facing your fears for your loved ones.”
Loved! Min-jun and Cheol looked at each other, whereupon they realized they were just a push away from kissing. As if he’d been burned, Min-jun jumped away, folding his hands on his lap, color rushing to his cheeks. Through all of this, Min-jun’s mother only smiled.
“Enjoying yourself?” Min-jun’s father asked, monotonously.
“Very much so.” She clapped her hands together. “I’ll get us some refreshments.”
“I’ll help,” Min-jun’s father offered, standing with her, whispering something in her ear that made her burst out laughing. With a twisted sense of envy, Cheol realized that this must be what loving parents looked like. Not only did they care for their son, the love they had for one another was plain to see. You do not know how lucky you are, Min-jun.
Having recovered from his embarrassment, Min-jun put a hand to Cheol’s forehead, and then to his own, checking for a fever. He sighed in relief. “You seem to be okay now.”
“Told you I’d be fine,” Cheol said.
Min-jun slapped him lightly on the arm. “Don’t be like that. You passed out in the streets two nights ago. I was worried you wouldn’t wake up!”
Two nights ago. No wonder Cheol was so hungry.
Min-jun sniffed, and now Cheol could see clearly the tears forming in the corners of Min-jun’s eyes. Damn it. He’d made Min-jun cry. His heart clenched at the sight and he reached out a hand toward Min-jun, only to realize he wasn’t sure what to do with it.
“Ha-jun,” Min-jun sobbed, raising his arms. Cheol had tried in vain to keep Min-jun from telling him his name, but he still needed to ensure that Min-jun knew as little as possible about him. “I was so scared.”
“I-I’m sorry,” Cheol said. Min-jun buried his face in Cheol’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, as his hands wrapped firmly around him.
“You should be sorry.” Min-jun would not let him go for a long while. “Next time you feel sad or nervous, you should come to me instead of hiding yourself in the alleyways. What if I hadn’t found you?”
Come to you? Cheol found he couldn’t argue with Min-jun. Not when he was on the verge of tears. So he only whispered an apology. He would never be able to lean on anyone, much less Min-jun, who deserved better than to be burdened with Cheol’s demons. Though it would’ve been nice to have someone he could confide in.
. Present Time .
Gazing at the sky, Cheol doubted hell had enough punishment to atone for his sins. He could be tortured for the rest of eternity, and it would still not be enough. Not only had Cheol known Min-jun, but he had also met his parents. The very people he had then allowed to be marched to their execution.
What have I done?
A/N: This is only the beginning. Thank you for reading. If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment down below.
Such a close look at what they were to each other! I feel like he could have left it all and had a place in Min-jun’s home instead.
Thanks for the chapter ♥️♥️
That’s what everyone is wondering, cheol… so where are the answers