Unevitable | Ryeji |

Chapter 11: Shared Grief, Hidden Agendas

Yeji's pov

Today was the death anniversary of my father. He was the captain of the army. A very admirable person but sadly he died in a war when I was nine.

I don't remember much about him. I would have probably forgotten his face by now if it wasn't for the only single photo of him and I together in my pendant.

The other photos were burned into ashes, when our house caught a fire.

I visit the graveyard with my mom. I clean the tombstone and place a bouquet of flowers on top of it. I do my prays and bow.

My mom starts to cry a little and asks me to give her some time alone. She always does this she asks me to leave her alone when my father's death aniversary comes.

The graveyard is quieter than usual today, the heavy atmosphere making every step feel more deliberate. As I finish up my own private moments at my father's grave, I can't help but feel the weight of my memories and the sense of loss that has stayed with me for so long. The world seems to slow down as I make my way through the rows of gravestones, my thoughts heavy with reflection.

Then, amidst the sea of marble and granite, I spot her-a girl with short raven hair, crouched down by a tombstone. Her body shakes slightly, and it's clear that she's grieving. The sight tugs at something deep within me. I remember how I felt all those years ago, the confusion and pain that comes with losing someone so important.

I'm hesitant, unsure if I should approach or give her space. But the empathy I feel for her struggle makes me want to reach out, if only to offer some small comfort in the midst of her sorrow.

I take a deep breath and slowly walk towards her, trying to move as quietly as possible. My steps feel heavy, each one echoing the weight of my own grief. As I get closer, I can see her tears more clearly, and it's evident that her pain is raw and fresh.

"Hi," I say softly, trying to keep my voice gentle. "I'm sorry to intrude. I couldn't help but notice that you're having a tough time. Is there anything I can do to help?"

She looks up, her eyes red and puffy. For a moment, she seems surprised by my presence, but then her gaze softens slightly. She nods, but no words come out.

I sit down a respectful distance away, giving her space while letting her know I'm here if she wants to talk. The silence between us feels heavy but comforting in its own way. We both seem to understand the depth of each other's pain without needing to say much.

"Today is the death anniversary of my parents" the girl says.

I nod, my heart aching with empathy. "I understand. Today is the anniversary of my father's death as well. It's a hard day, isn't it?"

She glances at me, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and curiosity. "I don't remember much about them. Only a few memories and some pictures that I've lost."

"I know that feeling," I reply softly. "I have just one photo of my father, and it's all I have to hold onto. The rest were lost in a fire."

She seems to find a small comfort in the shared experience, and her trembling subsides a little. "It's hard not having those memories, not being able to hold onto the past."

"Yes, it is," I agree. "But sometimes, sharing those feelings with someone who understands can make a little difference. We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, though. I'm here if you need someone to listen."

She looks at me, a small, grateful smile forming on her lips. "Thank you. It helps just to know someone else gets it."

"I'm Ryujin, Shin Ryujin.... What's your name?" The girl says .