My Songbird's Dream

17. Under the Ginkgo Trees

September 1941,
Occupied Seoul

Miyoko walked arm-in-arm with Yong-su through the manor gardens, the heady fragrance of late summer blossoms mingling with the acrid scent of patrols in the distance. His voice washed over her in comforting cadence as they discussed arrangements for their upcoming wedding celebration.

But Miyoko's responses grew distant, her thoughts turning with uneasy frequency to the war seeping daily further into their sheltered lives. The echo of military vehicles outside the garden walls made her grip Yong-su's arm tighter as a slender figure approached from the house.

Ji-tae waved subtly as he crossed the lawn, Miyoko craned her neck to keep him in sight a shade too long, earning a gentle tweak from Yong-su.

"Careful dear, or a fly will take that as an invitation and fly right in," he teased. 

Miyoko straightened hastily, a blush rising to her cheeks as Ji-tae drew near. His gait slowed, seeing the couple strolling together as he passed. For a brief moment his eyes caught brother's eyes, something uneasy reflected there before he inclined his head in polite greeting.

"I must excuse myself, I'm going to be returning to work," Ji-tae explained when Yong-su would have detained him. "I've only come to inform my mother I cannot make dinner this evening."

Miyoko watched his retreating figure, ignoring the pointed look from Yong-su until Ji-tae disappeared inside the house.

Later that evening as Miyoko arranged gifts of wine for Madame Park, the matriarch's sharp gaze assessed her shrewdly.

"Your family sends you alone tonight?" Madame Park queried. "I hope all is well with him?"

"Oh yes, my father sends his fondest well wishes," Miyoko murmured, keeping her posture perfectly straight and gaze politely downcast within the sphere of her decorated porcelain cup.

She took a small graceful sip of the pale steaming tea in the ensuing silence. Across from her, Madame Park gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, the sound hardly an agreement of well-meaning intent toward Miyoko's family. " I'm sure he did." She whispered mostly to herself.

The Park matriarch's mouth held a perpetual dissatisfied moue as she delicately adjusted the placement of dishes on the elegantly set table, more for something to occupy her patrician hands than true necessity. The colored glass beads at her wrist tinkled softly with the movements, a subtle reminder of status.

Miyoko noticed Mr. Park flick an almost resigned look toward his wife from beneath heavy brows. He gave a small cough into his napkin, the slight disruption intended to gently chide. But Madame Park merely gathered herself up straighter, not sparing her husband a glance.

Her message was not at all muddied – she would hold doubts toward Miyoko's family overtures no matter traditions of etiquette and hospitality.

As Miyoko well knew, no amount of a dutiful Japanese daughter-in-law could fully win her Mother-In-Law over.

The meal stretched on in awkward tension amidst the gentle clink of porcelain chopsticks. Madame Park's sharp gaze kept darting to Ji-tae's vacant spot, crimson lips pressed into a tight line. Miyoko focused on keeping her posture faultlessly straight while taking dainty bites despite her twisting stomach.