Notes.

Jin Ju and Ji-Seon : sharing like ten sentences in the drama, having like almost no scene together, barely looking at each other.

Me : I don't care, I ship it (*sighs*) !

Just maybe a quick word about the endings I talk about in the last chapters. If you were worrying, the bittersweet ending will be "on a high note, but one that is mixed with sadness and nostalgia". It means it won't be completely happy, but it won't be bad either. The other one, on the other hand, will be the same caliber as my "Bury a friend" one-shot. The two endings will be separated, so you can read the one you feel the most comfortable with.


CHAPTER XLIII


" Her soft cheek was glowing against mine.

"Darling, darling," she murmured, "I live in you; and you would die for me, I love you so."

I started from her. She was gazing on me with eyes from which all fire, all meaning had flown, and a face colorless and apathetic. "

(Sheridan Le Fanu, irish writer, "Carmilla")


a. Synderesis

On November 5, 1781, the day after the discovery of the dismembered bodies of the soldiers on the outskirts of the capital, and as the news was spreading like wildfire in Hanyang, going beyond the secrets of the army and government to reach the local population, Hwang Jin-Ju went to the store early to pick up her associate, Yoo Ji-Seon, to conduct their usual quick seasonal market research and visit some of their most prestigious colleagues and collaborators in the city. The protocol, developed over the years, was now well entrenched in both of their lives, and Jin-Ju had already prepared her greetings, lines and attacks when necessary, for those of their hot-blooded partners.

They hardly came this time for particularly joyful announcements, although there were situations considerably more alarming than their own. They were still managing to maintain a steady stream of profits, and losses were still relatively low compared to other merchants on the shopping street where their shop was located, but Ji-Seon was worried, and Jin-Ju had learned to trust her companion's instincts. At first, she had been inclined to tell her that she was worrying too much, and that they would always find satisfactory solutions in the end to ensure continued sales and, by extension, steady income.

Admittedly, the latest accounts couldn't be decently described as truly catastrophic : customers were always coming, buying, shopping, finding at least one item that suited them from the stock available, and leaving after paying reasonable sums of money, both for them, and for the two owners of the shop. In conclusion, business was doing well. The problem, according to Ji-Seon, although she hadn't expressed it openly because she wasn't like that, was that they could have been doing much better.

Jin-Ju found her immersed in the most recent records of their financial movements, and was hardly surprised by it, for since the summer, Ji-Seon seemed to be inhabited by the mania of constantly consulting their accounts. She had always done so, with more or less sustained attention, but nevertheless sufficiently distracted for Jin-Ju not to be sincerely disconcerted. Moreover, her examinations had so far been confident, and if they were rigorous, they didn't last long either.

Recently, however, Ji-Seon's readings had taken an almost obsessive turn, and seeing her bent over the calculations for long minutes that sometimes dwindled into hours, her beautiful and usually peaceful eyes quickly deciphering numbers and percentages with a feverish glow she had never seen before, Jin-Ju couldn't help but fear that her partner's affable and patient nature had been severely damaged by an excess of security.

Since the opening of the store, it was true that profits had always been more on the rise than on the decline, despite the difficulties encountered both politically, when the former Minister of War had tried to harm them by accusing Ji-Seon of treason, thus provoking the birth of a distrust on the part of the customers, and economically, through the crisis that had been relentlessly raging in the country since the appearance of the Gwishins.

The store was almost empty when she entered. As soon as she got inside, she breathed in the creamy and distinguished scent of the black ceramic incense holders that Ji-Seon had been inspired to install in the corners of the large central room of the store to "elevate the senses" of the customers, to which Jin-Ju had replied that she saw it more as a subtle attempt to encourage people to buy by catching them through their nose. Incense, on the other hand, was among their best sellers.

From that observation, Jin-Ju had concluded that the olfactory bait worked better than the visual, and she was encouraging Ji-Seon to buy more and more exotic and delicate perfumes, under the pretext that everyone could fall in love through their noses. On that day, Ji-Seon, who changed the incense sticks daily, let the heady scents of sandalwood and what Jin-Ju thought were spices spread around the store, but she couldn't distinguish exactly which ones.

In any case, Jin-Ju found the scent remarkable, and the use of incense-holders, by preventing the smoke from spreading too much into the interiors of the hanoks, helped to reduce the sharp copper smells produced by the burning of the sticks while allowing the fragrances contained in them to be diffused harmoniously, without being too powerful or too aggressive.

She politely greeted two of their regular customers that she met in the aisles, one a yangban who lived further north in an outrageously huge house and who regularly bought tea and ginseng from them, both for her health and her receptions and for the cosmetic attractions of the second, but also a lawyer who came to their shop to buy them pieces of fabric, each more varied than the other, and so long that they had often wondered what he could do with them.

- It is most certainly for his furnitures, Ji-Seon had suggested while watching him leave one day, followed by his servant whose arms were loaded with silk and cotton decorated with eccentric patterns, trembling under the weight of his master's purchases.

- No, Jin-Ju had replied in a mocking, confidential tone, leaning her shoulder against that of her companion. I bet you it's for his mistress.

Ji-Seon had had the good taste to appear falsely shocked, but her eyes then sparkled with mischief. The issue hadn't been resolved yet, but they had since made a lot of other far-fetched and politically incorrect assumptions about the lawman's use of the fabric. They agreed that the whole affair was far more exciting to imagine than to conclude definitively, and they had told Min-Su one afternoon she had come, accompanied by her young daughter, to find some jewelry box to replace an old one that had become too damaged by time.

Every time she came to the store, Jin-Ju and Ji-Seon applied the same emergency strategy they had agreed upon several times, which consisted in skillfully changing Hong Guk Yeong's wife's ideas, but above all in making her laugh. They had come to the point where each encounter quickly turned into a challenge, as Min-Su had been laughing very little over the past few years, and both of them liked nothing more than to see her smile at a joke that was a little too stupid or when they told her a juicy anecdote that they knew she had always been fond of.

Her repeated miscarriages had seemed to drain her ability to find things amusing or entertaining, and Cho-Rip's cold and distant demeanor had gradually made her impervious to any humorous approach, so much so that she couldn't shake off her sadness and fear. She hadn't been back for a long time, since Cho-Rip had left the capital.

Jin-Ju joined Ji-Seon at her desk, which she had placed in a corner of the room, and where she was most commonly found when she wasn't busy dealing with clients, or more accurately, chatting with them. Her first encounters with Jin-Ju would never have led her to think that her partner was the talkative type, but the fact was that once placed in the right conditions, Ji-Seon was perfectly capable of being as loquacious as Dong Soo was in his younger years, and with an ease that had surprised many who had known her when she was an apprentice samini.

She had impeccable and refined manners that ensured her respect from her customers, but also extensive knowledge on a wide range of subjects, from biology to astronomy, music and art, which were particularly useful in holding natural and long conversations with any potential buyer.

- Where did you learn all this ? Jin-Ju had asked her, sincerely admiring, after hearing her talk about the cardinal points and medicinal virtues of plants with one of the most renowned doctors in the city, who was now one of their most loyal customers.

Ji-Seon had lowered her eyes and smiled. She always acted that way when she received a compliment, and at times Jin-Ju wanted to tell her that she didn't need to be shy with her, that she could display her pride freely without fear of disapproving judgment or reprimands implying that she was arrogant. Be proud, she wanted to tell her some nights after the closing, you have the right to be, you're good, I don't care if you are, I'd like that.

- When I was engaged to the Crown Prince, she had explained softly, and she never said the name of Prince Sado, the king was kind and generous enough to give me access to a quality education. I had good tutors.

- And a great memory, Jin-Ju had added. All the credit doesn't come from your teachers, Ji-Seon-ah. Education requires two people. If you have all this knowledge today, it's because you've worked to learn it.

Ji-Seon had looked up at her with her dark, secretive eyes, which were at that time going through the export register in China that Jin-Ju had just brought back to her.

- You over-estimate me, her companion had gently mocked her by shaking her head slightly.

- Not in the least, Jin-Ju had said. At most, I think you're wonderful. You'd better get used to it, because I'm going to say it a few more times for as long as we're working together.

She had squeezed Ji-Seon's shoulder and felt her shiver as she touched her. She was small and frail in stature, like a reed. Most of the people around her, customers and acquaintances alike, believed it would take only a little breeze to break her in half, and most of them didn't know that she had been through storms before without ever bending, and that no one had ever been able to make her collapse completely.

It was likely that even Ji-Seon was hardly aware of her strength of mind and of the wild, dreadful fire smoldering inside her. When he died, she had told Jin-Ju about Sado, I thought I had died with him, that I had become empty.

Jin-Ju knew that Ji-Seon had loved the prince, to a certain extent. She knew it because the young woman had confessed it to her, after a year of merchant collaboration, during one of their dinners in a high quality tavern where they both enjoyed the food and the general environment, visibly designed for the highest strata of the kingdom.

- I loved him, she had explained, weighing her words, looking for ways to convert emotions that she had never mentioned until then. I think I loved him, at least. A part of me did. He was my escape route for a very long time, my way out to a freer life, without the war book tattoo. He was my springboard, my ascent. From the time he was alive, I felt like I existed.

- Not without him ? Jin-Ju had worried, thinking back to Ji-Seon's previous submission, or at least what she had felt, in her jealousy to win Dong Soo's love, to be submission.

Ji Seon drank very little, and never strong alcohol. She didn't eat much, didn't talk much. She did everything in reasonable and controlled moderation, but Jin-Ju felt within her a power, something dormant, to which her own being sometimes reacted with unusual stubbornness. Maybe there is fire in all people, she had wondered when the thought had occurred to her, maybe there is plenty of fire, forest, volcanoes, explosions, lava flows, and each person hides a variation of it in their heart.

For a long time, Dong Soo had been the equivalent of a tornado of fire to her, and he had burned her in her flesh, without even knowing it. But then the fire had died out, had weakened, and today it looked just like the flame of a candle about to touch the wax and drown in it (he drowns in alcohol, not wax). Between the time of her twenty-fourth birthday and the end of 1781, Jin-Ju had learned to see better, to understand better, and now she could tell that tornadoes were rapidly wearing out, while quiet, carefully held fires, like those of Ji-Seon, lasted an eternity.

- I thought that without the prince, I had no power, Ji-Seon had told her in a firm, resolute voice. I thought that without him, I was doomed to disappear. But he died, and I'm still alive, I'm still here.

- And you've changed your mind, Jin-Ju had concluded, staring at her attentively.

Ji-Seon's eyes were black abysses, midnight skies, rivers of hardened lava just waiting for a reckless intruder to set foot in them to unleash all their lethality. You never really know people until you see them up close, Jin-Ju said to herself as she watched her little companion, her hands wisely placed on her knees, and her burning, patient gaze gliding over her with all the serenity of a celestial junk.


b. Pietà

She and Jin-Ju left the store at the end of sasi, and meekly blended in with the mass of passers-by who, as always at this time of day, strolled along the commercial street of the royal palace. They were due to visit four of their partners before the end of the day, but they also planned to make a quick assessment of the novelties available on the market and the products that were selling best. The idea was hers.

Ji-Seon had received only a limited education in business, as the ambitions of those around her for her were not expressly directed towards it, and although she was well versed in medicine, theology, philosophy, literature and, to the surprise of some, the arts of combat, which never failed to amuse her inwardly as soon as her interlocutors understood that she knew what they were talking about and could answer them adequately without batting an eyelash, she had, on the other hand, lacked a solid knowledge of business founding and financial development.

Desire and willpower had never been a problem, but she would undoubtedly have appreciated having some useful informations before deciding to enter the field of selling. However, she didn't blame her preceptors : it was true that her career had not been mapped out for commercial activity, and furthermore, they had been given relatively little time to train her to become a woman capable of entertaining a king and becoming his wife.

The street was crowded that day, but Ji-Seon couldn't help but notice that the population was smaller than it had been a few years ago, and pointed it out to Jin-Ju, who nodded her head to express her agreement to the observation.

- And look at the faces, she added in a lowered voice, leaning towards her. There is fear everywhere, even under the smiles. Times are bad, Ji-Seon-ah, I'm telling you.

It was impossible to disagree with Jin-Ju on this point. Under the friendly and welcoming faces of the merchants, under the neutral or purely appreciative expressions of the visitors, one could read the signs of an anxiety that froze some smiles and twisted some features in others, as if they had been asked not to move for a predefined period of time.

While it wasn't really surprising, since the last decade had been marked by the fear of the Gwishin and the social divisions that threatened everyone, Ji-Seon found that the fear marks had indeed become more pronounced on the faces, and that everyone seemed to be expecting to be run over at any moment on a street corner by a cart whose owner would have lost control of. Mistrust was in all the glances, tension was in all the smiles.

The last resurrection, the fifth to hit the kingdom, had made no more noise than its predecessors, and had undoubtedly been contained by the government much more effectively (and radically) than the other waves, but it had nonetheless contributed to reinforcing the dissatisfactions and fears, which the Royal Decree of 1777 had literally set ablaze.

Jin-Ju held her the door of their first partner's store, a calligrapher who had agreed to do the covers of many of the books they sold, but who also wrote the signs displaying the prices and information about their products. The man, who would soon turn fifty-seven, had a generous spirit, but was often in a dull mood. Jin-Ju, who knew him well for having worked with him when he was still a bandit (a youthful mistake, he always claimed, to which Jin-Ju responded with a half-disdainful, half-mocking snort), often teased him about his somewhat sullen nature, and liked to tell him that life was dark enough to avoid adding a new layer when they came to greet him.

That visit was no exception, and after exchanging the usual barbs, the man, whose name was Lim Yung-Soo, told Ji-Seon :

- The paper business won't last long, my dear lady. At the speed things are going, you'd better start investing in powder.

Ji-Seon had felt her blood chill at that comment (the war), and to cover up her concern, she had simply nodded her head and said that she would remember his advice, while adding that she hoped not to see such a catastrophic situation occur. Nevertheless, although the calligrapher's statement was extreme, it was still true, and it was precisely that realization that made Ji-Seon more nervous than she would have liked. Since the last resurrection, the word "war" was on everyone's lips, and especially on those that were not directly concerned, namely those of the population that didn't belong to the military class.

The Royal Decree had announced the mobilization of an army of the dead, composed solely of Gwishins, whose objective was to protect the country from future invasions by Japan or the Qing Empire, which was increasingly said to be in the grip of a return of the dead as well. The news could have dampened the fears of the living, but it produced the opposite effect. People had been ordered to hate the Gwishin so much that the vast majority of the subjects of the kingdom couldn't bear the idea of their enemies defending them in war, and openly protested against it.

Of course, some saw the advantages of an army made up only of individuals who could feel neither suffering, nor hunger, nor fatigue, and whose status made them practically immortal, except for fire, and strangely enough, the Dead Winter, which was still discreetly talked about in inns and entertainment houses. The argument, however, was far from acceptable to everyone. As a result, the already fragmented society had seen the gulf between the supporters of each movement widen, and the announcement of the secret integration of the Gwishins into the living had ended up dividing opinions.

They spent half an hour with Mr. Lim, during which Ji-Seon essentially did the talking while Jin-Ju performed a sort of inspection tour, or rather a spotting tour, looking at the manuscripts, the handwriting, and Jin-Seon could almost see the cogs in her head as she categorized her preferences and noted what might do well in the store. She followed the discussion with the calligrapher distractedly, almost lamenting over it as she walked out of the store.

Recently, she found it increasingly difficult to stay fully focused when talking to customers or associates, and it was always related in some way to Jin-Ju. It also reached apocalyptic proportions as soon as Jin-Ju was in her sight, and Ji-Seon understood it, rejoiced in it, and was terrified of it all at the same time.

- He put on the shelf a new writing which imitates flowers, Jin-Ju informed her when they were back in the street, Ji-Seon raising her dark blue skirt to prevent the fabric from dragging too much in the slightly muddy ground. That would look very good with the new vases from China.

They had received a brand new arrival the week before, a continuation of the deals concluded by Jin-Ju with their neighbors of the empire. The vases, in the shape of high funnels, were superb items, hand-painted in bright colors and depicting charming interior scenes whose accuracy and remarkable execution had been complimented by the Chinese nobility. Jin-Ju had heard about them by chance, at a street corner.

Naturally, she had wanted to go there to see for herself. I need to see to be sure, she always said, and Ji-Seon trusted her completely, because her companion had largely proved her worth and good taste since their beginnings.

It had been cold for two days, and Ji-Seon had put on her fur-lined coat to make sure she was warm. Jin-Ju had done the same, and she looked lovely like this, all dressed in purple and dark red, her hair tied in a high ponytail that fell proudly over her shoulder. Ji-Seon was caught for a moment by the desire to tuck the heavy black locks back, and she refrained from doing so. But when Jin-Ju reached out her arm in a sort of reflex, as she had been doing for a few years now, Ji-Seon took it with a smile that she tried to keep grateful and friendly, to prevent it from expressing more, because for the moment, the change that had taken place in her was intimate, secret, private.

She began to walk closer to her companion, their shoulders brushing against each other with ease, with delicacy. Jin-Ju was taller than she was, and she reached the bottom of her shoulder, sometimes more when she stood on tiptoes. Jin-Ju's clothes had taken away the perfumes from the store, the warm smell of incense, and merchandise from other countries. Ji-Seon inhaled it deeply, once, twice, and then turned her attention back to the street.

Soon we will have to go to our farmers, she thought. She had been dreading the visit ever since she had checked their last accounts. Ginseng was still working relatively well, but several other commodities had experienced a decline in sales that Ji-Seon looked at with some anxiety, and she knew she would have to explain to several of their suppliers that they would no longer be able to buy certain products due to a lack of sufficient sales. In itself, it was not really a concern because all the farmers they were dealing with had several sources of income, but Ji-Seon couldn't help but be worried. Recently, the economic situation in the country had become alarming, and any financial bad news was often very difficult to announce.

They were walking towards their second partner, an upholsterer who provided them with extraordinary works, for which they had received praise from several painters, when it happened. At first, Ji-Seon was unable to see clearly what was happening, nor could Jin-Ju. They had arrived halfway down the street, where it divided into two small streets leading to private residences, mostly poorly built.

They had seen a young man, no more than thirty years old, dressed in rags, his hair in tatters, running and panting, emerging from the left. He looked frightened, and rushed toward them. There was nothing they could have done : he had suddenly thrown himself at the feet of Ji-Seon, who had backed away from him, something for which she would blame herself for the rest of her life, and had looked up at her with weeping, imploring eyes :

- Oh milady ! he had exclaimed in a desperate, urgent tone. Milady, hide me, save me, you seem kind, help me, please !

Jin-Ju had reacted more quickly, pushing the man back with a sharp, firm kick, and he had fallen backwards. She had drawn Ji-Seon to her, put an arm around her shoulders, and apostrophied him in a clear voice that didn't shake at all :

- Leave her alone, she doesn't know you !

- I'm not bad, the man began to cry. I'm not bad, it's not my fault...

Everyone was looking at them, people had stopped around them to observe the scene, with the same fascination and morbid curiosity that always inhabited populations whenever an unexpected event occurred. A few passers-by approached, intrigued, and the man was crying, and his tears were (black).

- Ji-Seon, step back, Jin-Ju said, and this time she looked scared, and she held her close to her with a strength that, if Ji-Seon hadn't already been in love with her, would have definitely made her fall for a woman for the first time in her life.

Six armed men wearing the military uniform of the anti-Gwishin brigades had appeared in their turn from the small street, turning their heads on all sides, and shouting "he's here !" when they spotted the fugitive. The latter, on seeing and hearing them arrive, had resumed his mad rush up the street, but he had been interrupted in his escape by passers-by who had thrown themselves on him and immobilized him on the ground. They shouted "Death to the Gwishin, death to the Gwishin !". Someone yelled, "To the stake, vermin !".

The soldiers seized the dead, and he was still crying, covering his face with black tears, faced with the anger and resentment of the living. He shouted it wasn't his fault, that he hadn't done anything, that he had contributed to society safely for five years. He was denied any defense. The patrol led him to the palace, threatening to burn him on the spot if he continued to whine.

- Come, Jin-Ju murmured, pressing Ji-Seon's shoulders, which she was still hugging, to make her move forward.

During the night that followed, Ji-Seon kept hearing the frightened cries of the Gwishin, and seeing his black eyes, full of (human) tears, begging for mercy.