If I Could Die to Meet You
8 years had passed since the day Fate returned him to his rightful era. He was to ascend to the throne today, and Man Bo, Chi San and Yong Sul watched as he took his place as the new ruler of Korea. His face was stoic and he had lost the cheerful, easy manner of a crown prince as the weight of a nation settled upon his shoulders. He did not look well.
6 years ago they had run out of Pak Ha candy, so carefully rationed. All four of them had shed tears that night, but told stories about the girl with the frying pan and the audacity to order the Crown Prince to wash her windows. That night, they huddled in the prince's room in their traffic light suits and slept side by side in blankets that smelled of mint and fresh fruit.
4 years ago their beloved track suits were lost in a fire. Lee Gak had dashed into the smoke-filled room to the panicked cries of his subjects, but unlike his love who had returned to life from fire, ice and water, the colorful suits were but shreds of blackened cloth, forever lost to the ravages of time.
2 years ago the last lotus flower withered and sank to the pond bed. A glittering yellow butterfly flitted to where it had disappeared under the water, then took to the skies. He waited, season after season, for the flowers to bloom again and the butterfly to return, but weeks turned to months, and months turned to years, and the pond remained empty and lifeless, like a mirror to his heart.
Today, he was left with only the bittersweet taste of omurice, and memories of days to come. He had once said that as long as they had memories, they would always be together, so he clung tighter to those memories as his grasp of the present loosened inch by inch.
"If I could die to meet you, I wish I could die right now."
He never became a great king. The kingdom prospered and he was remembered as the king who treated the peasants just as he treated nobility, but his reign was unremarkable. As the years dragged on, the emptiness had been too much to bear, and as his mind slipped away, so did his body. "Idiot" he could hear her say. She would have been disappointed. The kingdom mourned the loss, not of a great king, but of a Good Man, lost to frail health and a poor choice of seafood at the age of 36. As Man Bo, Chi San and Yong Sul watched their king being sent off to the next world, they believed that Park Ha would nevertheless have been proud of the man he had become.
He came to with a gasp, and a flurry of beeping and plastic tubes assaulted his senses as nurses and doctors hurried to their revived patient. He took in his surroundings of pink walls and blinking monitors, so foreign yet so familiar. Where had he been? How long had he been out?
He'd been in bed, surrounded by physicians and their bitter concoctions.
And he'd been on a boat, in an argument with his hyeong.
Nothing made sense, yet everything did. His panicked yells subsided and he fell back against the pillow, lips pursed in thought.
As the doctors left, satisfied that their patient was once again calm and taken care of, he asked a nurse to open the windows. A familiar golden glint flitted its way into the room and landed on his hand.
A handkerchief.
A girl at an apple stand.
A riddle.
A girl at a juice shop.
Park Ha.
Bu Yong.
Lee Gak.
Tae Yong.
He had waited a long time to die to live for today.
He stood there gazing at the girl who had caught his attention 3 years ago, and now he knew who she was. Who she is. And because he had their memories, they could be together always.
"Why are you so late? I was waiting for you for a long time."
"Where have you been? I've have always been here."
Even if 300 years have passed, I will always love you.