[Fanfic] Red Ribbons
Kiku remembers back when he was young, he saw a beautiful young girl dressed in a large dress. Her skirt’s hem folded underneath, the voluminous skirt curving up underneath her chest, just under her breasts. Her top was short, reaching just above where the skirt ended, long sleeves covering all but the tips of her fingers, and the shape of her neck.
Her face was slender and a bit wide, hair brushing against her cheeks to hide that fact. Her lips were plump and pink, nose high and round, eyes large and entrancing.
And on her hip was a simple, beautiful butterfly ornament, slapping against her skirt, flying with the wind.
He watched her for a moment, as she looked back at him with enlarged eyes. Her hair was long, reaching just below the middle of her back, ribbons tied at the top of the braid and at the end. It was only a second until she gritted her teeth and ran faster than he could speak.
But that one second left a mark on him, a mark he couldn’t forget.
And he wouldn’t see her again until a couple centuries later.
***
Her hair was shorter the second time, the braid reaching just between her shoulder blades.
Her features were much more mature, a young woman blossoming in the sunlight. Her face became shapely, slender, coming to a point at her chin. Her eyes once round, now two half moons settled magically on her face.
What stayed was the color of her dress, the ribbons in her hair, and the ornament that hung on her hips.
“Wait!” Kiku reached out, grabbing her arm before she could run away. “Don’t run, I want to talk.” The similarities are uncanny. She looked just like the girl centuries before. A perfect descendent, a reincarnation perhaps?
The girl shook her head quickly, covering her neck and face with her long sleeve, and with strength greater than a woman’s, pulled her arm away and ran far from him.
Kiku ran after her, dodging regular citizens and ignoring the cries of his delegates to come back otherwise he would get lost. He followed her by her hair; the ribbons that tied her braid were tossed widely through the wind, gripping each strand in desperation. It was his red string, tied to his finger, and he followed it lest it gets snapped.
She turned once to see him, an annoyance in her eyes, and quickly made a sharp right. She jumped high, grabbing onto a stonewall and clumsily pulled herself up and over.
Kiku followed, opting for the more practical solution of going through the small entrance just beside where she climbed.
They ran through the street markets, the girl opting for acrobatic stunts that could break her legs and Kiku opting for the easier solutions of simply running around their obstacles. She wasn’t slowing down, never faltering, even though Kiku could hear her breathe heavily and quickly.
They ran into the forest, dark and magical, trees overlapping each other.
She ducked underneath branches and jumped when she could, and Kiku did as well.
Kiku grunted as he unknowingly ran into a thick fallen trunk, and he grasped the dying tree tightly as he tried to regain composure.
The girl looked back once, a triumphant smile on her face.
Before she disappeared over a cliff of sorts.
Kiku stared incredulously; disbelief wracking his body senseless as he clumsily climbed over the tree trunk and ran over to where she fell.
He sighed in relief, finding that there was a pond below. He looked down to where the girl was as she stumbled up from the pond, her dress heavy as it took in water. Her hair was wet, glimmering under broken sunlight and her face had an alluring feel as she slicked back the long bangs. She looked up, breathing heavily still and walked to the edge of the pond, not running, almost like she was giving up. She climbed up onto the grassy banks and began squeezing the water from her dress and hair.
Kiku quickly jumped down into the pond, not finding a way around it without venturing through thick globs of trees. He walked up beside her, finding her to be tall, nearly his height.
“Will you tell me your name?” He asked, not knowing how to approach her politely. She must know him, having run away from him as if he was a well-known perpetrator. Perhaps it is the way he is dressed, or perhaps she is the same girl from years ago. As if that was possible.
She looked at him, peeved, and pulled away the ribbons in her hair. Her hair unraveled, the braid undoing itself and swinging away from her like a black curtain. She gripped her hair, squeezing it tight, water pouring onto the grass. She tossed her hair back, again pulling back the bangs from her face and sighed tiredly as she looked back at him, arms crossed.
Kiku gulped. “Do you know me?” He didn’t understand why he felt so comfortable around her. Maybe it was her nonchalant attitude, how she treated him like a companion rather than a stranger.
She nodded.
“Can you tell me your name?”
She shook her head.
“Why not?”
She shrugged, tied the ribbons around her wrists and walked away.
Kiku watched her walk for a bit, seeing her lift her skirt so it would not dirty any further. “Are you going home? Let’s talk for a bit.” He wanted to know more about her, why she intrigued him.
The girl shrugged again, having given up on trying to hide who she was.
Kiku grinned and ran up beside her. “Do you want me to carry you? It might be easier.”
The girl stopped walking and glared at him. After a moment’s worth, she rolled her eyes and continued walking. “Follow me.” She finally spoke.
Water, it was like water, flowing from her lips like cool silken river water. Kiku gulped, covering his red face with his sleeve.
Why-How did she make him feel this way?
After all, they’ve only met twice…right?
The rest of the day the girl led him to various markets, showed him their chickens, their trinkets, their simple cloths and how the women sewed them together. She led him to a ceremony of sorts; women with towering hairs and beautiful faces passed him slowly, glanced up at him with seductive smiles. She pulled him away from the gisaengs, taking him to food markets and feeding him pancakes, kimchi, foods that could make his tongue fall off and foods that could make his heart melt.
She took him up a mountain as the sun began to set, through small trees and picked up flowers on her way there.
Sunsets were always beautiful, but Kiku did not watch the sun set in the horizon.
He watched her as she placed a hibiscus in her hair, and another one in his.
She was almost eye-level to him, her hair now braided back with two ribbons. She smiled, patting his shoulder in friendly gesture.
And he kissed her on the cheek, not knowing what struck him to do such an act. It was not like him to be so flirtatious, so upfront with his feelings. Yet he had to, at least that’s what he felt.
The girl gaped at him, her entire face red, her ears an even deeper crimson. She punched him in the chest and ran away, the flower in her hair flying off and fluttering onto Kiku’s head.
Kiku had fallen onto his back, the punch much harder than he had expected. He watched through the flower’s petals the sky turn dark and blue, and closed his eyes as he thought of the beautiful blushing girl who punched him in the chest.
***
He wouldn’t see her again until he became an Empire.
She was here, in the same room, crying over a broken country as she clutched the covers closer to her bleeding body. Candlelight spilled over her like golden sand, glittered on her skin, spread around her. The butterfly ornament lay forgotten, away from the candlelight.
Her cheek, where he kissed her, was scarred and bleeding, purple with bruises and stained with tears.
Her hands were engulfed in her sheets, her wrists bleeding, covered. They would remain covered for the rest of her life, hiding scars she did not want revealed. The fist that she used to punch him in the chest was twisted and marred, recognizable as a mass of human flesh and not anywhere near a hand.
And she looked at him with hair long and free, draped over her shoulders gracefully, eyes fiery and narrow, like open slits on her skin. Here she did not look like a girl, nothing like that fair maiden with ribbons in her hair and a bulbous skirt.
Her body was without curves, chest completely bare, arms and legs somewhat muscular, her body completely without fat. Her shoulders were broad, her neck as well.
Her face, however, remained the same. A high nose, sharp jaw, and those beautiful (dear god oh so beautiful) eyes that once shone like stars and are now dark and bleak without any wonderful life.
Kiku nearly dropped his sword as he made the connection.
The girl he fell in love with was Im Yong-soo.
***
They bond long broken strings over a bottle of sake, another bottle of soju.
Kiku drinks sake slowly, and drinks soju in one shot. Yong-soo does the same, as he continues to down the clear drinks.
“You know…” Yong-soo points at Kiku, intoxicated, but still conscious enough to understand his surroundings. “Back when we were kids…kinda…I used to dress like a girl and run away from the palace. They FREAKED!” Yong-soo throws his arms in the air to illustrate how extremely nervous his boss and advisors were. “They FREAKED like crazy.”
Kiku smiles in his cup, downing the soju in one shot. He knew, for many years he already knew. “Really? What did you wear?”
“Simple hanbok and two ribbons in my hair.” Yong-soo sips his sake. “Everyone kept mistaking me for a girl. It was awesome. I was able to actually walk down a street without people freaking over whether I would trip on a pebble for get touched by peasants.” He sighs, leaning back in his chair. “I had to stop after a while, though. Things started to get rough.” Yong-soo places his sake cup quietly on the table and leans forward on the table. “Do you remember kissing a girl on her cheek? That was me-“
Kiku took this chance and leaned forward, holding Yong-soo’s chin with his right hand. He kisses Yong-soo gently, feeling soft plump lips tickle his own, feeling them sink into his own as he pressed forward.
Yong-soo feels all breath within him escape, and his conscious slips as he just almost collapses onto the table. He closes his eyes, indulging the warmth, following Kiku as the Japanese man withdrew. His eyes are still closed when Kiku sits back in his chair leaving Yong-soo standing up embarrassingly with his hands pressed flat on the table. He opens his eyes, his entire face red (his ears an even deeper crimson) and sits back down in his chair with a cough. “Well…I guess you do.”
Kiku laughs silently in his cup of soju, and looks down at his hand.
Red strings all around, and one shines, glistening like silken strands pulled from the sun.
Yong-soo lifts his hand; the sun-like red string follows.
Notes
*Red string in Japan (and perhaps other countries but I wouldn't know) is a concept where you and the person you love/destined to be with are connected by a red string. Something along those lines.
*Kimchi--pickled radishes or other vegetables. Extremely spicy and smelly, it is an iconic food loved by a great majority of Koreans and it seems even foreigners like it (Being Korean myself...I extremely dislike it unless it's put in dumplings or pancakes).
*Pancakes refer to not breakfast pancakes, but these pancake like foods where it's a mixture of flour, assorted vegetables and at times seafood. There are a lot of varieties.
*Soju--Korean alcohol, clear, and very strong (over 20% alcohol content)
*Hanbok is the traditional Korean clothing and comes in many varieties.
*Back then in Korea, red and gold was only worn by the king.
*Hibiscus--the ones I refer to are Rose of Sharon or mugunghwa clowers which are Korea's national flowers and represents Korea's perseverence throughout the years.
*The butterfly ornament is something like this: http://buddhapia.com/files/korean_culture/1986/07-3/7-3-10a%20copy.jpg aka norigae
