chapter 21: persimmons

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When Song-ee was little, her mother used to visit her

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When Song-ee was little, her mother used to visit her.

She didn't mean dreams. For a brief few years, when all Song-ee had ever known was the farm, her father, and the work of hard labor, every evening at sunset, a woman with golden straw for hair and the color of persimmons in her eyes would approach from the far west, and sit delicately among the apple trees.

She would let Song-ee climb close and even lay her head on her lap, and most days she didn't touch her, only sat there and sang about tales of heroes and monsters, but sometimes, once in a while, Song-ee would sit rock still as delicate and nimble fingers that were too warm to be human stroked her hair.

"You are your father's daughter," her mother used to say. Song-ee couldn't recall what she looked like, as often she would be too scared to peer right into the face of someone even her three-year-old self knew wasn't of her world. "I painted your hair as black as a raven's wing and polished your eyes to be as deep of an amber as his. Do not waste it. Do not disappoint me."

Over the years, the visits from her mother became less and less.

 Soon, she stopped seeing her for a very long time. 

《♤•••♤》

Deciding on what to do after the whole Arch thing was a hassle, especially since Song-ee still felt tender on her side despite Will's best efforts to heal her, and she didn't want to actually walk to California.

That sounded absolutely miserable, so after counting the small amount of mortal money they still had, it was decided amongst them (read: Annabeth) that taking another train would be their best bet.

It wasn't Song-ee's first choice, or her second or even third, but she swallowed past her nerves and stood in the ticket kiosk anyway, her fingers playing with the ends of her hair as she tried not to let her anxiety show on her face.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't startle as a warm hand gently grabbed hers and stopped from messing up her hair even more than it already was.

Percy looked at her with concern, his eyes flicking around her like he was worried that she was hurt somewhere, and Song-ee couldn't decide if she wanted to pull on his cheeks or kiss them.

Silly.

"I'm okay," she said, pasting on a smile when he started to frown. "Gosh, angelfish, no need to look so down!"

"You're lying," both Will and Percy said.

Song-ee felt her smile sour as she shot a glare towards Will, her traitorous best friend, who looked bored as he stood a little ahead of them in line with his arms crossed.

Dammit. Sometimes she forgot that part of being a son of the god of truth meant, well, having a built-in lie detector. The good thing meant Will could always tell if one of his patients was lying; the bad thing was it meant Song-ee could never get away with anything, even if it meant saving face.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 27 ⏰

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