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ONCE UPON A TIME...
There lay a small village, inhabited by less than a hundred hungry villagers, each with their unique stories, uniting together to fight the poverty after a recent war that left the country famished. The famine was not a factor of hindrance for the villagers, however, the presence of a family held them together and provided a will to live and to love.
On the edge of the village stood a small flower shop, perhaps appropriately characterized as a cozy home with a small stand up front for the sale of flowers. Inside the home lived Bora, a young girl with no family or person to call home like the others did—leaving her to rely on herself and only herself to survive in the small village.
The season of spring that brought the blossoming of flowers was salvation for the poor Bora who had to endure a rough winter in which sales were minuscule, limiting her daily meals to jam and bread. With the sun out and the flowers blossoming, she could earn enough to feed herself and hopefully, invest in a new home further center of the village for more coverage, for not many villagers would come to the edge of town just to buy a bouquet of flowers.
The setting in which our story starts promises the bright, midday sun, with the delighted villagers out and about on this good Sunday which marked the official start of the spring season. The market in the center of the village was lively, the townsfolk shouting back and forth about the produce they wanted. 'Six eggs!' a female villager would exclaim to a merchant. 'One pound!' another would yell.
It was quiet on Bora's side of the village. Only the poor beggars or the rambunctious children would pass the front of her shop, where her small bouquets of flowers were threatening to wilt dry. The flowers were unimpressive to say the least, considering most of the bouquets were composed of hyacinths and tulips. As prominent winter flowers, the villagers grew bored of the repeated bouquets, especially when the exact flowers could be found growing on the small bushes in the village alleys.
What Bora needed was a new set of flowers, to attract the eyes of more townsfolk, with colors and petals they had never seen before. With the arrival of the sunny spring season, this desire could finally be fulfilled.
The day passed by quickly, the sun on its journey to set as Bora started the process of pulling her bouquets inside, left to wither without the promise of a new home she had created them with. She might have made two francs, equivalent to two days' meal.
There was one last customer who appeared just prior to closing.
The heavy, hasty footsteps belonging to a man alerted Bora as she turned around to peer outside of her booth once more, wondering eyes landing on a very familiar figure.
"Bora! I have not caught you past closing, have I?" asked the friendly Namjoon as he caught his breath. His uniform stuck to his figure tightly, a result of his numerous treks and adventures that of which left his body with enormous muscle mass, adding that he served in the army previously as well.
"You seem to have arrived just in time," Bora smiled at him and glanced at the remaining bouquets out for display, the ones that she had not gotten to storing away yet. "Thought I do not have much for you to choose."
"That's alright," he beamed. "I shall take the biggest bouquet you have today. It is the least I can do."
"For exactly what, Namjoon?" Bora joked. "I am sure you have yesterday and the day before's bouquet still in your house. Do you really need another one?"
"For being my friend, and for continuing to make such beautiful bouquets. The other villagers in town should know of your immeasurable talent. I am just one of the only ones who recognize it," he stated and pulled out a pouch, bouncing the weight in his hand before holding it out to her with a gentle smile, enough to light the whole planet for decades.
She hesitantly took the pouch, though her mouth parted open in shock upon feeling its abnormally heavy weight. "Why, I cannot take this much from you! It is not even worth this much!"
"It shall do me greater pleasure to see you take it, Bora. I promise," he assured her, running a hand through his long, black hair as his dimples appeared on his cheeks. "And your flowers are worth more than this entire village. Now, may I please have the bouquet before the sun sets? My father is waiting for me at home. We are having dinner with the head of village. I insist."
"I thank you, Namjoon," she smiled at him brightly. "I shall make this bouquet the prettiest for you."
"I have no doubt that is possible."
Hurriedly, Bora took one of the biggest bouquets she had for sale today and decided to slip more flowers inside of it, enough that the size was immeasurable to any bouquet she had ever created. Full of hyacinths and daffodils and the like, it was with extravagant color and various petal shapes, and she was sure Namjoon was to like it.
She held it out to him gently, feeling the brush of his hand as he carried it into one arm easily. "It's beautiful, Bora. Also—I was wondering if you would like to join us for dinner with the head of village. I am sure my father would be keen on your attendance, and I would sure be very happy as well."
Bora smiled. "Thank you, but I actually have plans before the sun sets to go out to search for spring flowers. I appreciate your offer, though."
"Of course," Namjoon nodded politely. "Well. I hope to see you tomorrow for a new bouquet. I look forward to it."
With that, the charming young soldier made his way back home, leaving Bora to pack up a few items for her short trek in the early evening to pick a few flowers for tomorrow's purpose. Full of anticipation, she was hoping to find new spring flowers to pull in more customers that would set off a great start to the spring season.
To combat the late winter climate, Bora draped on her washed-out purple hooded overcoat, over her shawl that weighted on her shoulders. Her single pair of boots were worn out, though perhaps with the generous money that Namjoon provided earlier she purchase a new pair of shoes.
With a wooden basket to hold the flowers yet to pick, she set out into the woods that were nearby her home, walking further and further away from the village as the sun painted the sky a bright purple, abnormal for the winter that was diminishing away for spring to come.
Nevertheless, with determination, Bora ventured into the deep and darkening woods, unaware of the unexpected conundrums that would occur in the near future.
