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Morals are of by men. Souls are of by nature.
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"Tell me uncle. How much of my success were mine?" She asks as she looks at her paintings.
It's her second visit. However now, she is alone.
Today is the last schedule of her soulmates' concert in Japan. There are two nights scheduled for Kyoto. Last night she was there in the stadium, at the VIP lounge together with some of the ever-supportive members of her seven's families. Of course, she couldn't focus. She couldn't find the thrill of being there. She couldn't even pretend to enjoy. Her thoughts were just louder than the stadium's chants. The chaos in her head and heart weighed her down. The worry of affecting Jin's performance and the concert as a whole added on it.
"It's okay. I'm used to it now. Don't worry so much about me." Jin pacified her as he hugged her before the concert begun. She knew that the eldest understood her well, but she couldn't continue to be like that. The drain on Jin's energy is so obvious on the screen. He would always look at the direction of their location. His teary eyes worried her much more.
Their families had noticed it as well.
"I heard everything from Jiminie my dear." Mrs. Park sweetly consoled her. "I am so sorry."
That made her grateful but at the same time, ashamed. Their worries are still so foreign for her. She's still not used of their care.
Since she couldn't put her head in a right state, she had asked for them to let her visit again...this time alone.
"Promise us that you will be okay." Jimin's caress had been her only shield. Their love has been her armor.
"Make sure to be back quickly." Yoongi whispers on her ears. He knows how she dread to do this, but she has to. She couldn't keep on affecting them with her distress. She couldn't keep on dragging everyone. She couldn't keep herself drown just like before. She has her seven now. To be able to move on, she has to do this.
One thing is for sure. She is no longer as weak and as vulnerable as before. With her she brings the strength that her soulmates had given her.
"All of those are yours Daun-ah." Mr. Han answers. "You know him. He only buys what he appreciates, and he appreciates your paintings. He said that they reminded them of her."
"Does he know these are all mine?"
"He doesn't. No one knows who is behind the Dreamer." He smiles.
"Really?" She asks again, not amused with his blatant lie.
"He knows. He knows all about you. He kept on the tab." He finally admits.
She sighs. She knew it.
"About my other patrons... Does he have any involvement with them?" She wants to know. It bothers her greatly that her paintings had been only sold to people who she thought had loved her talent. It would break her heart if they too were influenced by her papa.
"No. I don't think so."
She keeps quite as she continues on looking at the paintings, recalling each of its inspirations. Her art has been her life. She took pride whenever she has to let go each one of them to another home. Was she living on the delusion of being greatly appreciated? But does it matter who bought them? She didn't even know who some of her patrons are. Though she knows she would be hurt, somehow, the thought of her papa, buying them because of her talent somehow sparks a little sense of pride.
"Do you know that your papa painted as well?"
"Huh?" She looks at her uncle confused. That would be silly. She only saw him in his business suit all those times with all his paperwork. She didn't notice him painting even once.
"Come. I'll let you see." He walks out and she follows, careful not to disturb her sleeping papa on his wheelchair.
They walk through the long hallways and to a staircase to the second floor of the old traditional mansion. There she sees different framed photos.
For every step she takes, her eyes widen in surprise. Her walking slows down as her life from when she was a small child hangs on the framed photos along the walls of the hallway. The photo of her receiving a trophy during her recital was there. A picture of her with Hannah in Disneyland. Another picture of her sleeping underneath the huge oak tree at the Tokyo residence with her wet painting glistening from the rays of the sun. There are many to mention. Some she knows were taken by her uncle and some are candid shots of whoever was stalking her. It's as if, the pictures are special memorabilia kept like a treasure and out in the open with the person who takes her as his greatest pride.
Something whispers that all of these were done by her papa and she doesn't know what to feel with it.
"What is the meaning of these?" She can't help but gasp as they finally arrive in an open space with more framed photos and paintings. The paintings are more like portraits. Opposing her dreamlike strokes, the thematic and more abstract style, the paintings are more life-like. They look much more highly defined photos only with oil and acrylic paints.
"These are all Yoshi's creations." He smiles. "He was the one that asked me to teach you how to paint actually. Maybe as a redemption." He adds.
"That's difficult to believe." Though she knows it's true, but she still shakes her head in denial. If her papa had been seeking for redemption, he should have done it long ago.
"I know." Her uncle quietly murmurs.
"I know you want me to forgive him uncle. But... As of now... I-I just don't know." She honestly tells him. Knowing his love, albeit toxic, is not enough. How can she forget everything and starts a new? His struggles couldn't heal the scars that he had caused. Yes. She pities him with what he is now, but pitying someone and forgiving is a whole different thing.
Her uncle nods. "But at least you are here." His eyes pierce through her with the gentleness that almost sways her heart.
Nodding, she hums. Her gaze is back to the creations. True... She is here only to see how much of her life he had been ruined. She wants to know how he had been manipulating everything. She wants to know ...
Her eyes observe the different paintings and stops to a particular one. She had thought first that the model was her mother but her honey brown eyes and long brown curls seems more like hers.
"Is this me?" She has to ask. The painting looks like so recently made. The one before she had fancied shorter hair.
"Yes. You noticed. It was when he went to see you, wanting to tell you the truth but he changed his mind instead." Her uncle responds. "We went together, but decided not to distract you from all your work. He was just relieved that you were healthy." He adds.
She grimaced. That's another thing that's hard to believe. More information of him wanting to reach out seems like a fantasy... a thing that she had hoped in the past. If she had been the same, maybe her heart would skip with happiness. The joy that finally she will have the recognition that she had hoped to have.
"Mrs. Song. How do you know her?" She swerves the conversation to what she deems more important. She wants to know how Mrs. Song – the therapist, came to know her.
He hums thoughtfully before answering. "She was a young aspirant psychologist. She came over for a visit in the lab once as one of tour that the company did for soulmate related cures. She mentioned about her theories on soul travels and one thing led to another, we talked about Da-eun's experience. It led to me asking her to be your therapist..." He pauses before he continues. "I'm sorry for doing that. Your papa was so grateful for having found her and for willingly be your psychologist."
She scowls. She had known why Mrs. Song was willing. It was because of her soul travel. Somehow, the woman saved her from losing her soul. Without her, she might not have given the chance to see her seven. She doubts her papa had begged the woman to save her. She refuses to believe. She would rather believe that Mrs. Song begged her father to save her, even with the uncertainties on the effectiveness of the suppressants that they had supplied for her.
"So, you knew? All the abuse that papa had done?" She accusingly asks in a rather calm voice.
"I am sorry." He lowers his head in shame.
Of course. If he loves her as a father should, why did he let the abuse?
"He was always angry." She whispers but loud enough for him to hear.
"Irritation and anger were adverse effects of his suppressants. The alcohol added on it."
She almost snorts at that. "He had been cruel." Her eyes squint through him as she tilts her head towards the man. Her brows are knitted. Her lips are pursed. "Didn't you know?"
"I didn't know not until Hannah told me about the bruises at your back. I panicked and had sworn to leave him indefinitely." There is sorrow on his eyes... guilt... and something that she couldn't tell.
She looks back at the painting and murmurs. "But you couldn't."
"I couldn't." She can hear bitterness on his voice. Then he continues after sighing. It's as if, he had embraced the reality that he was in... that somehow, it had been difficult, only he couldn't do anything about it. "Yoshi was the only family that I could have. He was more than a brother to me."
"You loved him." That is a fact. She doubts he would deny it.
"I never stop loving him."
"But you married Hannah's mother."
"Only to prove myself that I could build a family on my own. I could be a father to Hannah. But without that soulmate bond, and with Yoshi who has been suffering for soul tear, I couldn't fully let go."
'Why can't he be a father for her?' The words somehow give a nasty taste on her tongue. With him, she might not be as desperate for her papa's love. 'Is it because they don't have the familial bond? Or was he denied on forming a parental relationship with her? Papa really ruined everything.'
"And so, you had the divorce." She asks instead.
"Well... She did. She asked me to let go of her. I was starting to show signs of soul drain."
"Soul drain? How?" That surprises her.
"That's still a mystery. But I believe, it's because being married to another is still a betrayal to the soul even though my soulmate had died already." He casually explains.
"Did you regret it?" She looks at him.
"I only regret not meeting Da-eun sooner and letting Yoshi did all of those things."
'Didn't you regret for allowing him to hurt me?' She wants to ask, but she doesn't want to dwell on it anymore. At least now, she knows that all of those accusations of her were all lies.
She only nods as she feels emptier the longer she stays. "I think I should go now."
"Okay. We should go back..."
"No. I mean... I will be going back to my soulmates." This halts her uncle.
"Daun-ah."
"I don't think I can do what you asked me, uncle." There is no need to lie. "I can't stay. Not even an hour longer." She needs to be with her seven and engulf herself with the love that she finally has. She needs to be with them. She needs to heal with them, for she knows, the persons that had hurt her could never ever heal her. Not like this...
"I understand." He replies but she can still see the hopefulness within his eyes.
"I think you don't understand." She gently says. "I couldn't give papa the forgiveness that you asked. I won't be back anymore... not here...and especially not in Tokyo. I'll still be using mother's name, not unless they will ask me to."
"You might not inherit everything Daun-ah." Her uncle reminds her.
"I had turned my back since I was seventeen, uncle. I had tried hard to survive on my own. Maybe papa had helped somehow, but still, I did it on my own. You can do anything you want with his wealth. I don't want to do anything about it. Give it to anyone that wants it. I'm sure many are vying for it." She feels that she can finally let go.
His face contorts in disappointment then calms in understanding. "I understand. You have your soulmates now. You deserve to be happy."
"Thank you." She bows gratefully to him. Though relieved, she can't help but feel that this is a true goodbye... to her past... for her future.
"The past had mold you for who you are. It may be painful but it brought you to us." Namjoon's words echo in her head.
"I would like to see him before I go." She says, more like a request.
Her uncle nods.
They walk back to where they were but there was only a young maid inside, informing them that her papa is in another location, and guides them there.
"Just go ahead. I need to get something." Her uncle tells her before they could enter the room.
As soon as she enters, she sees him, finally awake. She feels quite calm as she looks at him gazing blankly to the distance.
He stays like that even with her presence. It's as if he is there, wide awake, but his mind is in the other place. Perhaps to a happiness he had for a short time... Perhaps with his beloved that he lost.
Daun deeply breathes and walks towards the man. She can't help but feel the foreign feeling of contentment. The fear is no more. She is only content for being here, finally saying her goodbyes.
Her hand caress the handle of his wheelchair as she contemplates on what to say. Then she follows his line of sight and there she feels the surge of honesty once more. The words that she failed to say to him as she silently walked away from him when she was seventeen kept swelling from within. Her heart feels like vomiting it, unable to keep them any longer.
"I hated you." The first confession flows like water. It's no longer vile oppose to the pained teen she was before. It's curious how she can't feel the gravity of the statement. It simply describes her truth... the truth that no longer applies of what she feels right now.
If this is the last, she wants him to know. "You had carved a scar in my heart papa. You took out everything from me. My trust, my kindness, my love. Now... I only pity you. I'm sorry if I can't forgive you. I couldn't just do it." She honestly says. "Perhaps in the future... not now." She gazes to the serenity of the place as it reflects her heart and smiles. "I have my soulmates now. There are seven of them. They are so considerate... So kind... So loving. They understand me. They can protect me from all the pain even those that you had created. I had hoped you could see them all and approve on them...but I don't think you need to do that anymore. Now, I only hope you well." She looks down again to his face. His eyes are still blank to the space in front of him.
Deeply, she sighs. What use of saying all of those if he can't hear her anymore... If he can't understand her anymore?
"Da-eun..." He calls with his gentle voice. "I would like to hear that song again. You played it to me several times. I hope I can hear it again."
Daun's heart clenches. Her fists tighten to the wheelchair's handle.
Perhaps this is his punishment. Him living in his yesterdays with the ghost of her mother.
"I want to hear it... for the last time." He mutters, loud enough for her to hear. The pause before he finishes the request makes her still. It's as if, in that moment, he has returned on the present. It's like a request for her instead for her dead mother... just like the times he had asked during his birthday... those days when he was not intoxicated with alcohol... when he was a bit kind... a bit gentle. A rare pretense for his guests.
She nods and searches for the old piano at the far end of the room. It resembles the one that she owns that is currently collecting dusts on her apartment. As if magnetized, her legs willingly walk towards it. Her steps feel heavier. It's like those times when she was dolled up and had to play in front of his numerous guests. Those times when she was molded to be a daughter that she was expected to be.
She halts and opens the lid. Her uncle, who had excused himself a while ago, gasps as he sees her sitting on the piano's chair. She knows why. He knows too well why she had refused to play the instrument, focusing more on the violin. The trauma that the piano bears is unbearable for her.
"Daun-ah." She can hear his concerned whisper.
"I have to play." She starts sniffing. Her eyes begin to water. She was sixteen when she said the statement for the last time. She had a fever then, but she had to play. She didn't think that she would play the instrument again. Not the same one that she had come to abhor.
Now, she needs to. For her papa. For his conscience. For hers.
She presses a key and starts to play a very familiar lullaby as her tears refuse to stop from brimming and flow to her chin and drops to her chest, wetting her heart with the renewed sorrow.
For the last time she has to play for the man that she thought she would never ever meet again. To the man that had greatly impacted her life. She may wear the armor of love of her seven, but still, her heart still crumbles with the memories of the years of hurt and pain. Things that she had hidden with the help of the suppressants. Events that made her weak.
She thought she has no more tears to shed, but here she is...crying.
The teardrops are blurring her vision and so she closes her eyes, letting the memory of playing the notes do its course. One key to the next... And the soft pedal to prolong the notes had made her heart ache with the memories of yesterdays.
As she plays... she hears all the angry words that her father had said to her. She hears her cries. She hears the violin smashed to the wall. She hears the screeching of the door as her nails scratched for someone to open it and let her free. She hears her papa telling her useless. A whore just like her mother – a false accusation to cover all his mistakes.
"He loves you... He just didn't know how to show it. I guess." Her uncle's words echo, almost erasing all the heart aches that he had caused.... all the traumas that he had deeply itched within her heart. But it's not easy. It's never easy. Even with the support of her seven...Even with the care of her new found families.
And with the last note... she hears her papa's ugly cry... a scream of agony... of regret. He is wailing, calling out to his Da-eun.
Perhaps it's true. Since he couldn't love himself, so he couldn't love her as well. He couldn't give what he doesn't have. He couldn't forgive himself...and looking at her had been his constant nightmare. She had been the blade on his wounded heart that he had stabbed to himself multiple times.
Tears silently blooms as she plays one more time. Not to torture him. Not to tear him more apart... but to soothe him with language of her mother... music. To soothe his guilt with her song. The only song that she knows from her. From the treasured videos that her papa used to watch to sober himself up. The videos that had made her determined to learn her mother's piano, thinking perhaps, that he would look at her just like how he would watch her mother on the screen.
She hopes that with the notes, she could tell him that it's okay. Even though she couldn't fully forgive him, it's still okay. Even though he couldn't go back and mend his mistakes, it still okay. Even though his memories are only of her mother, it's okay.
'It's okay.' She also lulls her heart. She promises herself that this is the last time that she would pin to her past. It's okay to cry. It's okay to doubt. It's okay to be sad... as long as in the future, there will only be happiness.
She refuses to stop playing even with the chaos of people rushing to her papa. With the last prolonged note, the room becomes silent. She stays sitting and feeling the contentment that she feels. Finally, she may not forgive, but at least, the resentment is already gone.
"Daun-ah." Her uncle's voice penetrates through her mind. She looks up and see his crying face. "Thank you."
"I'm going now." She finally says as she stands, and never looks back again.
**********
The sun is so high up above. It's still early in the afternoon. ARMYs are everywhere as she and her security silently walk to the restricted hallways inside the stadium and to the room where her soulmates are. Her speed matches the beating of her heart. Her gaze is determined.
She needs them.
Her breathing labors as she gently opens the door. Her gaze frantic as she searches for them and there, she sees them silently eating. There are other staffs inside, but she only sees her seven... her soulmates. She pouts a bit as she sees a cloud of gloom hovers over them even with their favorite meals spread on the table.
Her shoulders sags in relief as seven pairs of beautiful eyes finally takes notice of her presence and land on her.
"Baby!" Jungkook is the first one to great her with his doe eyes and bunny smile. A bit of food hangs on his chopsticks and falls messily on the table's surface.
"Sweetheart." "Sweet." Taehyung and Hoseok simultaneously squeal and stand.
"Darling." Jin lovingly smiles, not minding the mess caused by the youngest, even a bit.
"Babe!" "Love." Jimin and Namjoon gasps after gulping the food that they are eating.
"Welcome back, Kitten." Yoongi, who had been closer to the door, is the first one to step closer to her and engulfs her on his warm embrace.
She smiles and gingerly let the warmth seeps through her skin and her veins. She feels her heart calmly chants her love for them. Closing her eyes, she feels more arms touching her in a soothing and welcoming manner. A hand is endearingly petting her head. Another on her back, caressing. Another on her arms, giving her a comfortable squeeze.
"How are you, babe?" Her Jimin's peering eyes pokes for her to answer.
"I am okay." Her eyes flutters and her hands reach for his cheeks. "As promised."
Jimin's eyes crescents as he smiles. Worries are no longer evident on his orbs as he whispers... "I am glad."
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello dear readers!
I'm sorry if it took me awhile to update. Work just kept on piling and I had to do them without any distractions. I hope you understand.
By the way... This story is nearing its completion. Yes. It's sad, but it's nearing it's end.
Don't fret. Certainly, there will be more stories to come.
Thank you again for reading and even voting for this story.
- Gigi