Mountain Rose

04. The Gisaeng's Foretelling

"I don't know, one moment I think I know. But the next moment I don't know."

Apink, Love is Blind

I lay down on the wooden floor, my hair spilled under me as I stared at the ceiling blankly.

I forgot how many days had passed since the Harvest Festival, nor did I care. Every passing hour was painful, and I lost count how many times I would break down, asking myself how everything shattered so quickly. My eyes were swollen beyond any care, and I could barely open them these days; my cheeks were puffy, but it seemed like I was the only one out of my siblings who had it the worst.

Every now and then, my stepmother would come into the room and stare at me from the door, asking me to come and eat with the rest of them. Sometimes she would send Hoseok, knowing that he was the only one who could get me to do anything, but even he refused to come out of his room.

Eventually she seemed to accept that this was how I would be from now on, and stopped coming to my room to beg me to join her for meals.

The day Father left had been so normal. We had said our goodbyes, and he had promised to bring us presents. When he left, he was jovial and merry, and we had parted with the assumption that we would be reunited not long after.

It had always been that way, after all; we had never expected him to not return.

My lip trembled, and I pressed my palms against my eyes, feeling my chest shudder as I began to cry for what seemed like the millionth time.

Don't cry, Eunji. He's out there. He can't be gone, not when they haven't found him.

I heard the door slid open behind me.

"Eunji," Jimin's voice floated in the room, "You haven't eaten all day. I brought you some food."

I continued to stare at the ceiling. "I'm not hungry."

I could smell the food as he set the tray beside my body, and his face loomed over mine.

"That's what Jungkook said too," he said gently, slipping a hand under my head and easing me to a sitting position, "But I made all your favorite food and you can't refuse to eat it."

I looked at the tray, and noticed how he had decorated the rice with black beans to make it look like a happy face. Then I looked at him, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, the slightly pink nose – probably from crying too – and the tired look in his eyes that he couldn't mask with his encouraging smile.

We were all the worse for wear, but he was the only one who was constantly looking out for the rest of us. I wondered how he did it.

He held up a cup. "Tea?" he asked, bringing it to my dry, cracked lips.

I inhaled the steam, taking it from him and sipping slowly. "Thank you Jimin," I said, my voice trembling at the end as I began to cry. "I'm such a horrible sister. I'm supposed to be the strong one."

He scooted closer, letting me lean against him. "No one said you weren't strong, noona," he said tenderly, using his sleeve to blot my tears off my cheek. "Take all the time you need."

I sniffled. "I hate crying," I said, hiccupping, "The salt makes my eyes sting."

He chuckled. "You should see Hoseok-hyung. He's been bawling too."

"I should check on him."

"You're not going anywhere until you eat my food," he said, bringing the tray closer, "Mrs Ahn from next door gave some fish, and I made it into a soup. You've always liked it."