JEONGGUK IS RESTLESS. He's been pacing back and forth ever since he brought the girl home and called for his father. He'd sent Miri home before she can get anymore emotionally scarred and tried assisting his father with whatever he needed.
Stitches. Jeongguk did some of the stitches too, while his father was preparing painkillers. Now he's waiting outside, unable to calm himself for some reason. So he starts tending to the horse; providing some hay and water. The horse had been cooperative when Jeongguk hoisted the girl onto it earlier. It's probably only accustomed to its owner, he supposes.
His father reappears from inside their house after a short while. He spots his son standing by the horse and clears his throat. "Where did you find her?"
Jeongguk looks up, catching his father's unreadable gaze. "Uh... the forest, while Miri was playing."
His father doesn't respond for a few seconds, merely staring at the horse beside Jeongguk. The boy tilts his head to the side, blocking his father's view. "What's wrong?" He asks in curiosity.
His father averts his eyes to his hands, drying them with a cloth. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."
Jeongguk nibbles on his bottom lip, unconvinced, but decides to drop it anyway. If there's one word he can use to describe the man: paranoid. He doesn't get why his father is so keen on keeping a low profile. Sure, they're Jeons. Yes, most people don't like them because of whatever history there was. But Jeongguk thinks its just ridiculous: to be fearful of something you didn't do.
Maybe the world is just messed up like that.
"I just don't think it's safe to bring home some random stranger you found in the woods. You'll never know who they might really be."
Jeongguk's ears perk when his father speaks up again. "Does it matter? You're a doctor, father. Shouldn't you save everyone regardless of who they are?"
His father opens his mouth to say something, but decides against it. Jeongguk shakes his head before heading back inside the house.
"Your son is quite like you, Myunghee," he sighs, looking up at the darkening sky.
Jeongguk hesitates as he enters the room. The girl is laying on a bed by the wall, tucked in warmly by a blanket. There's a small spot of red seeping through cloth of the white bandages wrapped around her body. Jeongguk doesn't know why, but he feels sad for her. How can someone so young endure so much hurt?
He notices the stains on her arms and retrieves a small bucket of water and some clean cloths. When he returns, he takes a seat beside her and dips a cloth into the water before carefully wiping off the stains of blood on her skin.
Her hand is smaller than his by a lot that he can actually wrap his entire hand around hers. He cleans off the dirt under her nails and between her fingers, until he sees a pretty little ring with a black pearl on one of them.
Gently, he pries the ring off and wipes it clean too before setting it onto the table beside him.
By the time he finishes cleaning her arms and her neck, the bucket of water is colored a light shade of red. When he moves to her face, he finally allows himself to look at her properly. He wipes the side of her face carefully, not wanting to wake her up before wiping her cheeks.
Soft. They're really soft, and Jeongguk stops himself from staring too long because he feels like a creep.
Whoever this person is, she doesn't appear to be from around here. Jeongguk takes note of her clothes; robes like these are awfully expensive, and the golden embroidery sewn onto the material can only be made by someone really skilled. The ring he took off earlier looked really valuable too.
Only people born to nobility can afford any one of these. But its not usually noble women that end up as damaged as this. Jeongguk can't help the many questions popping into his head. Maybe he can just ask her when she wakes up?
He spots something shiny leaning against the other side of the wall. Right, when he found her she had a sword by her side. Obviously, it has been used. And judging by the blood on it, someone must've gotten killed. Maybe his father does have a reason to be wary.
Pushing all these confusing thoughts out of his head, he takes one last look at the girl before picking up the bucket and walking out of the room.
She doesn't wake up for days.
Jeongguk comes to check on her regularly, but there hasn't been any progress. There are nights when he'd sit at the same spot beside the bed and notice her brows slightly furrowed, her fists clenching as if she's in pain or having a bad dream. Jeongguk doesn't know which, so he results in playing soft melodies from his flute in hopes that it can soothe her in some way.
Mostly, he plays the same song his father has always played for him when he was little. It always calmed him whenever he felt uneasy in the past, it's like a special remedy.
There are also nights when Jeon Sejin would walk by that room. He'd peek in after hearing Jeongguk's flute and shake his head in a conflicted manner. The boy doesn't know why he feels the need to do more for her. He wouldn't call it attachment, maybe he just feels responsible considering he was the one to find her.
Is this what his father feels everytime a patient comes to him for help? Something heavy weighing down his shoulders until the problem is solved and an illness is cured.
It's one evening just before sunset when Jeongguk is fluting to her again. It's the same evening that he hears her voice for the first time. It's faint, and it's almost drowned out by the music he's playing. But he hears it.
"Where am I?"
He drops his flute, eyes flicking to where the girl is already attempting to sit up. However, she's quick to grab her side, flinching in pain.
"It'll hurt more if you move." Jeongguk tells her. She gives him a once over, and then meets his eyes. All of a sudden Jeongguk feels small under her gaze, like she's the predator and he's the prey. It's like she's deciding whether or not to claw at him.
One of her hands rub the back of her head and her face contorts slightly. "You have to lay down or you'll put more pressure on your injuries," Jeongguk says as he instinctively moves forward to help her. She flinches back when he reaches out, and he pauses before taking it as a sign and retracting his hand.
He wonders if he should go call his father, but he notices the girl's eyes quickly dart around the room, as if scanning it thoroughly before it lands on her sword leaning against the wall. For a split second exclamation marks pop up in his head because she literally looks like she's going to pounce on him with that sword.
He tries. "I won't hurt you." He slaps himself mentally because that came out more like a question than a statement.
That manages to do something though, because the girl is turning back to him and looking at him dead in the eye. He supposes he would be cautious too, if he was in the same position. So he answers her previous question.
"You're in a doctor's house. In Moonrock. I'm his son. My name is..." He pauses when he realises he's almost said his full name. No, that won't do. He puts on his best smile and says, "I'm Jeongguk."
To top it all off, he offers her his hand to shake. She stares at it for a full 10 seconds without making a single move. Jeongguk chuckles (really) awkwardly before pulling his hand back. Maybe its best if he doesn't overwhelm her. "Or you can just you know... ignore that."
She seems to have only just realised that her upper body is merely wrapped in white cloth, and she quickly wraps her black robes over it. Jeongguk, being Jeongguk, moves to help her (again), when she starts coughing vigorously into the palm of her hand. When she pulls it back, there's a lump of dried blood stuck to her palm and Jeongguk immediately offers her a clean towel. Right then, her stomach makes a growling sound and she clutches it protectively with her arm.
"You... um... I'll get some food. You haven't eaten properly in days and you're as pale as a ghost," Jeongguk says and gets up.
The girl's eyes widen at his words, but he's already going out of the room and towards their kitchen where his father is looking through some manuscripts at the table. Noticing Jeongguk's rushed state, he raises his head and squints his eyes at him.
"Where'd you keep that herbal soup I made—oh nevermind, found it."
Before his father can mutter a word, Jeongguk is already off, bowl of hot soup in his hand. When he returns to the room, the girl is sitting up against the wall, head tilted downwards as if she's still trying to get used to the pain. She looks up when she hears shuffling and sees Jeongguk carefully laying a tray on top of the bedside table.
"You'll feel better after eating this," Jeongguk tells her. When he sees that she's still in her hesitant state, he stammers, "Ah! It's perfectly safe, see?"
He takes a spoonful of the soup into his mouth and swallows to prove his point. Then, he holds out the spoon for her to take. That seems to have assured her, because this time she does take the spoon.
After getting a taste of the soup, her face screws up in what appears to be disgust. Jeongguk is taken slightly aback when she suddenly says, "This is the worst thing I've ever tasted."
Okay, maybe he can't be good at everything. Instead of feeling offended, he chuckles at her comment. "Medicinal soup isn't meant to taste great. But it'll give you your energy back."
She doesn't say anything else after that. All she does is eat, and eat. Well, if you're starving it doesn't matter how bad something tastes.
Jeongguk picks up the flute he dropped on the floor and wipes it clean with his shirt before inspecting it. He leans back against his chair and looks back at the girl to check on her.
"You don't talk much, do you?" He finds himself asking.
She doesn't look up, not even to address his question. So he takes that as a yes. He wraps his hands around his flute and raises it to his lips.
She finally acknowledges him when she hears his song. She listens, although quiet, as she swallows up the rest of the soup. He only stops playing when she puts down her bowl. For a few minutes, the room is filled with a comforting silence. And then she asks, in a soft voice, "That song. What's it called?"
Jeongguk goes blank. No one has ever asked him what his songs are called. "Uh..." He trails off, taken aback by the sudden question. "There's no name for it."
The girl's expression is unreadable, as always. Jeongguk finds that no matter how hard he tries to see through her, it's like there's a giant impenetrable bolder standing in his way. But eventually she nods at him.
"It's beautiful," she whispers, and he sees the ghost of a smile on her lips.
It prompts him to smile too. But the moment he does that, she breaks the eye contact and lowers her head to stare at her own hands. He notices how much livelier she looks after she's eaten, her cheeks slightly plumped and with a faint shade of pink. Much better than when he had found her.
"Um... I don't know who you are or where you're from, but I think you should wait awhile before leaving. Just until your wounds heal up. Besides, it's dangerous to travel on your own. Even if you have a..." He glances at the sword, light from the table lamps reflecting against it, causing it to glow just slightly. "A weapon of that sort."
He looks out of the window, seeing the sky fully dark now, and decides to let her rest on her own. "If you're in pain or if you need anything, you can find me around here. I won't be far. You can get some rest." He stands up, collects the tray and heads to the door. He stops for a moment, contemplating, before closing the door behind him.
"She's awake," he tell his father when he enters the kitchen again. The man doesn't reply, so he adds, "I told her to stay a little longer."
His father nods curtly, before returning to his manuscripts. When Jeongguk leaves the kitchen, Sejin glances over his shoulder at the closed door.
He puts his thoughts aside and releases a sigh, before blowing out the lights.
The music of the flute came quick, rather brilliant. Like a calling. Or like a quick message. Although everywhere around her was pitch black, she saw the notes as much as she heard it; many different colours popping out from here and there. It sounded like a blackbird when he calls; not only calling, but telling her something, and soothing her soul to sleep.
The bed is empty when Jeongguk's checks on her in the morning. The shiny, bloodied sword is gone too, the sheets are neatly folded and the bed done immaculately as if no one has laid there before.
Everything went back just the way it used to be.
Except for the ring sitting on the bedside table.
Author's Note:
Okay, they've finally met in this one, but the best is yet to come. More characters will be introduced in the next chapter so get your tea cups ready.