[Guest Writer: Takenoko] To Meet the Height of Birds (2/?) – A SKKS fanfic

Thanks so much for the kind encouragement and feedback, everyone! Here's the next installment - even though we didn't catch a glimpse of our dear Geol Oh during the welcoming ceremony, I'm sure he was hiding around there, somewhere ;)

Title: To Meet the Height of Birds (Episode #2)
Characters: Jae Shin, Yoon Hee
Genre: General, Romance

Words: 777
Summary: …But I can feel stardust catch in my throat.

o.o0o.o

The welcoming ceremony is not one of Moon Jae Shin’s favorite events. In fact, of all of Sungkyunkwan’s year-round pomp and circumstance, it is probably the one occasion he has the least amount of interest in. Year after year, the same ghoul costumes, the same tedious heckling, the same trite “delicacies” presented to greedy or bored seniors who are merely upholding school tradition. This year, however, he goes because Gu Yong Ha is a senior and will be one of the ones presiding over the reception, and he doesn’t want to hear the meticulous recounting of events and all the gossip that Yong Ha will surely regale him with if he admits he wasn’t at the ceremony. Still, just because he’d promised to go to forestall any whining from the manipulative Yeorim, doesn’t mean he personally has to go bump elbows with the newbies, so he perches himself strategically in the shadowy nook of a tree just outside the courtyard and settles in for a nice, long nap.

The muted sounds of the offering of beef and watermelon are nothing new, over-exaggerated though their merits may be. There is a pause, and then the next speaker, someone with a quiet, somewhat familiar voice, offers his gift.

Jae Shin cracks open one eyelid as Byung-choon kicks the freshman’s basket aside, sending what looks like homemade mung bean rice cakes into the dirt. He scoffs to himself. The mockery is nothing new, either. Any second now, the young man kneeling before the table (why does his stance remind him of someone he’d seen just recently?) will crawl back to the waiting crowd and disappear shamefully into anonymity. Jae Shin closes his eye.

But wait. The footsteps have stopped. A sharp turn, and then they head decisively back in the direction of the crackling flames. A resolute tenor rings out over the silent crowd, who is held captive by the following words:

“Studying literature and searching for the truth is what a scholar should do right? In the midst of all the books around you, is there any one that says you can throw food of a poor family’s onto the ground? “

Jae Shin’s eyes snap open and he looks down.

“Please answer,” the young man demands. He’s facing away from the students so Jae Shin can’t see his face, but he can see his slender frame, clad in pale goldenrod, practically quivering with indignation. Yong Ha has removed his mask and the crowd’s murmuring is making Byong-choon’s blustering hard to hear.

Now Lee Sun Joon, whose voice he recognizes from the rare Left State Minister’ dinner that he’s actually made it to, is interfering.

And now Yeorim is going around, forcing people to try a morsel of this newest offering, so unexpected in its simplicity.

“Because it’s the hardship of the citizens, everyone take a bite.”

Jae Shin smirks a bit at that. Trust Gu Yong Ha to figure out how to make even steamed homemade rice cakes seem like a treat. Though perhaps a treat it truly is, for not a single student has grimaced or spat out his mouthful in distaste. In fact, even Byong-choon continues chewing doggedly as Ha In Soo steps in to confront the new student. It looks as if, for tonight at least, this -Kim Yoon Shik, was it?- will be safe from the president’s wrath. Jae Shin breathes a small sigh and sits back, subconsciously letting his muscles relax from their tiger-like tautness.

Later, after everyone has disbanded in haste to complete the tasks they’ve been assigned to, he spots the discarded straw basket among the rest of the shredded packaging and silk wrappings piled together for disposal, and plucks out the last of the rice cakes to hold up to the moonlight. It looks a dull green, not shiny or crispy at the edges like those he remembers eating at summer festivals in years past. Kim Yoon Shik’s family, he theorizes idly, probably isn’t one to indulge in pan-fried rice cakes. He is curious about how much sugar they could afford to put into them, as well.

‘Hardship of the citizens,’ Yong Ha had called it.

He takes a bite, and the subtle glide of sweetness against his palate takes him by surprise. The texture of the rice cake is just right, not too sticky nor too grainy, and its fragrant aroma is pleasantly mellow, like freshly brewed green tea.

Hm. Kim Yoon Shik’s rice cakes are nothing to be ashamed of, he allows approvingly.

Jae Shin shoves the rest of the cake into his mouth and wipes his hands perfunctorily on his pants, then saunters off towards the dorms.

o.o0o.o

Come on, guys, who else thinks those rice cakes were probably delicious? XD

[Guest Writer: Takenoko] To Meet the Height of Birds – A SKKS fanfic

Hello all! I’m a newly initiated Sungkyunkwan Scandal fan and budding fanfic writer for this lovely series. (“Takenoko” means “bamboo shoot” in Japanese, if you’re curious =P). Miss Tofu was kind enough to offer me a chance to share some of my ongoing SKKS drabble series here. I hope all the readers of The Lunar Annals will enjoy this small offering and token of my appreciation for my favorite character from the show, Moon Jae Shin ;)

--This series started off as a collection of "hidden moments" from the drama, wherein Moon Jae Shin thinks more about the mysterious, infuriating, captivating new roommate that he seems to be slowly letting into his life, whether he likes it or not. These are all most likely going to be short, drabble-length vignettes, some fluff, some angst, some general. Please let me know what you think! :)

Title: To Meet the Height of Birds (Episode #1)
Characters: Jae Shin, Yoon Hee
Genre: General, Romance

Words: 500

Summary: And you have not stolen my breath yet…

o.o0o.o

The hiccups don’t stop until he’s well into his second bottle of takju, and the sheer number of times he’s been unable to suppress a full-body spasm have already cost him a cup’s worth of the milky-white, fermented beverage. He swipes briskly across his mouth with the back of his sleeve, taking a vindictive pleasure in refusing to use the handkerchief to clean up the spill.

Not that he is using the stupid bit of cloth for its intended purpose, either. The cut on his arm had stopped bleeding, thankfully, leaving nothing but an oozing scab that could be easily hidden by the voluminous folds of his tattered black robes. He looks down at the pale blue square of rough linen, noting the telltale handiwork of someone just learning embroidery. All the silks in his father’s home have Qing embroidery, chain-stitch, adorning the edges, and this scrap is rubbish in comparison, but…

No woman- scratch that, girl- had ever offered him such a personal item before.

“Let me repay your kindness.”

He had looked down at the top of her bowed head, at the sleek plait that hung meekly down her spine, and remembered the girl’s earlier pleas.

“I beg of you, that money is money that even my life wouldn’t be worth. So please, return that money to me. Please.”

The wave of fury that swells inside his chest is almost unbearable. He remembers once, many moons ago, when his younger self had begged for the return of a precious toy arrow gone astray, picked up by a group of Banchon kids as he’d run into the center of the village square to retrieve it.

Her earnest lack of pride reminded him of his own pitiful attempts and grated against memories he’d tried for so long to suppress.

“Don’t bow your head to anyone. Don’t kneel for anyone. It will become a habit. Once it becomes a habit, it will be hard to fix.”

Hyung had taught him that. Had drilled it into his head so much he could now recite it like a grade school lesson. Hyung had been the one who took him by the hand, scrubbed away the dirt and tears staining his face, and firmly showed him how to set his shoulders, grit his teeth, and march back in to demand what was rightfully his.

But this girl, this infuriating creature who gave away handkerchiefs without a thought: who had taught her about holding onto one’s pride? About fighting for what was yours, even if- especially if- the fight wasn’t fair? Life wasn’t fair. And she’d probably never had anyone to show her how to deal with that. But all appearances against the contrary, she’d plucked up enough courage only moments after all her bowing and scraping to give that bastard exactly what he deserved.

He chuckles, remembering the pained yell one of the unlucky bandits had let loose. Strong teeth.

Strong girl.

Maybe not so hopeless or pitiful, after all.

*hiccup*

“Damn it.”

o.o0o.o

[Link] Taming the Crazy Horse - A SKKS fanfic

First day of my research scholarship period over, and it looks as though Tofu will be very busy over her summer break. =( Updates may or may not be sporadic (and I apologise in advance for that)!

However, I do come bearing a peace offering---

akane47 has very kindly allowed me to link to her work-in-progress Jae Shin+OC multi-chaptered story over at LJ! You'll love it, I'm sure... I know I did. =D

Title: Taming the Crazy Horse
Genre: Drama, Romance (Post-drama)
Characters: Jae Shin, OFC (Original Female Character)
Words: TBA
Summary: N/A

Link to Chapter One: http://akane47.livejournal.com/2832.html
Link to Chapter Two: http://akane47.livejournal.com/3476.html

[Guest Writer: Nano] A Newborn's Cry - A SKKS Fanfic

Tofu: Lunar Annals has a new guest writer! Everyone, it is my pleasure to introduce... Nano!

***

Title: A Newborn's Cry
Genre: Angst, Tragedy (Post-drama)
Characters: Yong Ha, Sun Joon, Yoon Hee, Jae Shin, servants

Words: TBA
Summary: There had been a death.

[Note the genre!]

o.o0o.o 

He stood in the snow, the wind harsh on his cheeks. A rare sadness crossed the usually jovial man’s face.

There had been a death.

The body had once possessed one of the most determined, fascinating soul he had ever known. One that might have left it far earlier if he had been able to pull his game to the end, in those merry days at Sungkyunkwan.

A servant stood nearby, a wailing child in her arms. Only a few days old, it cried as if it already sensed its mother’s death.

Yong-ha struggled not to join its sobs.

“Lee Sun Joon. I’m sorry.”

The man seemed to have grown twenty years older. A great drop dripped from his nose, blotching his white robes. Lee Sun Joon stared at the ground, his eyes half-dead, and the usual spark gone.

“Don’t. I’m…I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t know what to say to that. A firm pat on the shoulder, and Yong-ha stayed silent.

Geol-oh was nowhere to be found. Probably drowning in liquor, a state unbecoming for such a high military official. So it was to Yong-ha’s surprise as he saw the Crazy Horse kneeling by the body.

He was murmuring something to it, attempting to hide the rolls of tears trickling past his nose. A final sob opened his mouth and Moon Jae-shin desperately tried to cover his howl.

Lee Sun-joon broke. Yong-ha grabbed at his collar, as he tried to raise his friend up from the dirt while the legendary professor tore at his robes.

He didn’t realize till then that he was crying, sobbing along with them.

Why did it hurt so much?

No woman had made him feel this way. No, no human had ever made him feel this way, save for Geol-oh. And even that Crazy Horse didn’t take it this far. Grief…was this what it was?

Lee Sun-joon stumbled from Yong-ha’s side and knelt down next to his wife. He cradled her head, as if she would wake up again. The newborn shrieked along with him.

A servant later remarked, while sweeping, to a fellow maid:

“You would have thought the world was ending, the way the lords cried over our mistress. Tsk, poor Madam. She was so happy to be pregnant. Now all our master has left is a daughter to remind him of a dead wife. Although, it’s strange. What did Lord Jae-shin and Master Yong-ha have to do with Madam, to be so sorrowful over her death? They met only once or twice, didn’t they? Strange world we have…”

[Guest Writer: Krb] Reality Check (The Epilogue) - A SKKS Fanfic

A while ago there was a request from one of the readers for an alternate ending. Personally speaking, while the ending of the drama wasn't perfect, it did leave me satisfied enough.

Just for the record though, (in agreement with Dramabeans), the show officially ended for me at the scene where Lee Sun Joon went to meet Yoon Hee alone in the library.

Much as I tried, I couldn't rewrite the ending since that finale had been a result of 19 episodes worth of permutations. So what my limited creativity and I had to settle for in the end was just a short rewrite of the Epilogue (everything else that happened after "Wang Seobang" and the smiles at the library.) It's obviously nowhere as good as the original, but I did have fun with it.

Please do read it with a pinch of salt, and be kind! =S

Title: Reality Check - The Epilogue
Genre: General
Characters: Kim Yoon Hee, Lee Sun Joon, Moon Jae Shin, Gu Yong Ha
Words: 1836
Summary: The epilogue of Sungkyunkwan Scandal, retold as a day in the married life of Kim Yoon Hee.

o.o0o.o

A day before Daemul’s wedding, Yeorim had issued her a warning that marriage would dull a relationship. His grand solution was in typical “Gu Yong Ha” fashion, and there had been a twinkle in his eye as he put his arm around her shoulder and suggested, “Why don’t you stay unmarried instead and keep the “never-to-be groom” on his toes? With me around, I’ll be sure he does!”

For that, he’d earned a hard jab in the ribs from Gul-oh, and a startled exclamation of “Yeorim Sahyung!” from Garang.

Gul-oh rolled his eyes. “Don’t bother about this madman and his crazy words. Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” He looked at no one in particular, but everyone knew the statement had been made for Garang’s sake.

Daemul, on the other hand, had merely laughed it off. She loved her fiancé so much, and deep inside, she knew she’d never have to worry.

She was right.

o.o0o.o

Married life was everything Kim Yoon Hee could ask for and more. Her in-laws adored her, and her husband positively doted on her every single day. Her daily rituals with him stayed mostly the same, but rather than becoming mundane, each repeated action of love simply reinforced how much the husband treasured his wife.

The entire household had been surprised when the Young Lord had insisted on sharing his room with his missus. Married sons of noble families were traditionally not allowed to sleep in the same chamber as their wives except during her fertile period. The Old Patriarch had been hesitant to allow it initially but his son had demanded, argued and ploughed his way through. And so the father relented, not to anyone’s surprise. The Young Master could be persistent when he wanted to.

Yoon Hee couldn’t be happier with that decision. Her nights were always spent in warm arms, and her days always started with a light peck on her forehead. Moreover, every morning when she arose, a bucket of heated water, without fail, would be waiting for her—courtesy of the husband who’d wake up half-an-hour earlier to ensure water had been boiled and mixed to the right degree of warmth. She had refused to accept it at first, and had insisted that such chores were reserved for a wife. But her other half had snubbed at that.

“Sungkyunkwan was reserved for males too.” he retorted.

Yoon Hee was silenced.

She rose an hour earlier the following morning instead, only to find the warm water already prepared by the door, and her Yeobo with his eyes closed biting back a smile. Yoon Hee gave up…and learnt to get used to it.

In time, even the servants got used to it. They were all in unanimous agreement; their young master had become a changed man as a result of his wife.

o.o0o.o

Today, however, something was wrong.

When Yoon Hee awoke, she sensed something amiss. It took a moment for the sleep to melt away and for her surroundings to sink in; the room was empty. The pail of warm water was there, as always, but the other side of the bed was crinkled and cold. He husband hadn’t woken her up, and hadn’t pecked her on her forehead. Her husband wasn’t even around.

Perplexed at this sudden break in morning routine, Yoon Hee quickly pushed herself out of bed and hastily got dressed. She stepped out of the chamber still in the midst of smoothing her hair-bun and stopped a passing servant.

“Have you seen your Young Master?”

The servant girl bowed reverently and replied, “Good morning, My Lady. The Young Master has left for Court.”

Yoon Hee looked up at the sky and frowned. The sky had only started to turn blue. “So early? Was there a royal messenger?”

The maid shook her head, and hesitated before volunteering, “But he did seem to be in a terrible mood when he left. He even refused to take the gama* and insisted on walking on his own.”

Yoon Hee’s forehead creased with concern, but she thanked the girl nonetheless and sent her on her way.

This was most strange indeed.

Shaking her mind off the speculations for her husband’s weird behavior, Yoon Hee proceeded to the quarters of her parents-in-law to pay her respects alone. The only other time this had happened before was when the King had summoned her husband into the palace in the wee hours of the morning for an urgent discussion that lasted late into the evening. Fortunately, if the elders thought anything of her lone presence, they didn’t voice it openly.

She wouldn’t have known what to say in any case.

Question marks always drove her crazy, but there was nothing she could do except to continue with her day and wait patiently for his return.

In line with routine, Yoon Hee was in the study when her husband came home at midday, and he knew where to find her. She looked up from her pile of books as the recently appointed Minister of War pushed the door open and stepped in. He tugged at the knot under his chin to loosen it, and placed his gat at the corner of the wooden table as he bent down to kiss his wife’s cheek in greeting.

“What happened to you this morning?”

“Which policy are you reviewing now?” He pretended not to have heard her.

Yoon Hee was torn between answering his question and demanding to have hers answered. In view of his current mood, which hadn’t seemed to improve since morning, Yoon Hee picked the former.

“The tax increments on the nobility to fund the King’s capital. I don’t relish having to break this news to the Norons. There’s going to be a lot of objection.”

o.o0o.o

Upon discovery of Yoon Hee’s true gender, King Jeongjo had ordered her to continue serving from the sidelines instead. The Confucian teachings had been too deeply ingrained in the Royal Court for the ministers to accept a female amongst their ranks. But His Majesty wasn’t willing to allow her talent to go to waste either. The three guys in the Jalgeum Quartet had each been already assigned official positions best suited to their individual abilities and backgrounds.

Gu Yong Ha was now actively involved in foreign trade and commerce on behalf of the Royal Court. Although he wasn’t of Yang-ban status, his clout and jurisdiction had grown to exceed that of many other noble households'. Lee Sun Joon and Moon Jae Shin had remained loyal to their political factions, but given the prior friendship of the two, King Jeongjo’s dream of political harmony was now closer to fruition than ever.

As for Yoon Hee, she had been given a direct command to aid all three of them. Though she wasn’t allowed to show her face at the Court sessions, her voice was nevertheless clearly expressed through the rest of the Jalgeum Quartet. While her male counterparts were in the palace debating petitions and policies, she would be hard at work in her study perusing the content of their prior discussions. Her opinions counted for much since she was one of the very few talented citizens in Joseon who had received the education of the rich, and experienced the life of the poor.

o.o0o.o

Now she was being solicited for her viewpoint on the King’s latest proposals. Husband and wife evaluated document after document. And each time Yoon Hee tried to worm in her original question, her partner, intently absorbed by affairs of the state, promptly dodged it.

Evening fell, and without administrative topics to occupy their conversation, dinner passed without a single word exchanged between the couple—the clink of chopsticks and porcelain punctuating the jarring silence. Yoon Hee didn’t even bother trying this time. She waited until they were both confined in the privacy of their room and preparing for bed before she demanded her answers.

“Husband, what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” It was feigned ignorance, and she knew it.

“Your expression and actions have been weird all throughout the day,” the wife pressed on.

“It’s nothing.”

“No. If you go to bed like that, your mood will be the same tomorrow, and the day after, and after that. I know you. Tell me what it is.” A thought suddenly dawned upon her, and her face was etched with concern. “Are you ill?”

“Aish. It’s nothing. Stop asking.” He lay on the bed, pulled the blanket over his shoulder and turned to face the other side.

But Yoon Hee would not be ignored. “If it’s nothing, you wouldn’t have been in such a foul mood for the whole day! You practically ignored me throughout!”

When the outburst failed to elicit a response, she reached her hand over and tickled his side. That got her husband scrambling to sit up immediately. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell you.”

To Yoon Hee’s amazement, instead of launching into a detailed explanation, her husband started to blush furiously.

He mumbled half-heartedly and Yoon Hee had to strain her ears to make out what he was saying. “I had a nightmare last night.”

“What?” The wife choked back a laugh. “You’re meaning to tell me that you were in such a foul mood the whole day, and you refused me any proper conversation because of a… nightmare? What was it about anyway?”

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m not.” She clammed her lips up, but her shoulders were still shaking. “What did you dream of?”

“Something close to my heart. So stop laughing.”

Yoon Hee sensed a hint of anxiety in his voice and sobered up instantly. “I’m sorry. Was it about your br…”

Her question was cut off with an answer.

“It was about you.”

“Me?”

Sigh. “Yes, you. I dreamt of our past. During the days when you had just enrolled into Sungkyunkwan. Do you remember?”

Yoon Hee smiled at that fond memory. “Of course I do. What’s so nightmarish about that?”

“For some weird reason, in my dream, I couldn’t recognize you as the girl I had rescued from the thugs only days before. I know dreams hardly make sense, but throughout your entire term there, I was just satisfied with watching you from the shadows. And you wound up marrying Lee Sun Joon in the end.”

“Lee Sun Joon? Our room-mate Garang? In your dream, I ended up with Garang?” Yoon Hee inched closer and hugged her beloved from behind, resting her cheek on his back. “Oh, Gul-oh Sahyung.” She reverted back to his nickname from their old school days. “You seriously have a wild imagination.”

Unfortunately, Yoon Hee’s words of reassurance did nothing to soothe him. The dream had seemed so real, and had hit a little too close for comfort. Yoon Hee decided to switch the topic around to a little secret of her own instead.

“I know there’s something that would definitely change your mood.”

“What?” Jae Shin asked without turning around.

She craned her neck so her lips could reach his ear. “You’re about to become a father soon.”

o.o0o.o

Footnote:
*A Gama was an elaborately decorated litter used to carry royalty and government officials in Korea.

o.o0o.o

Author’s note:

And so Sungkyunkwan Scandal was all part of Jae Shin’s nightmare. The end.

* But waiiiiiiiiiitttt!!! Don’t shoot!!*

Let me start by saying this. I am a Sun Joon-shipper through and through, and while I absolutely adored Jae Shin and all his swoon-worthy antics, I was fine with him not getting the girl. *Krb promptly ducks for cover*

Why?

Because firstly, he seemed fine with it as well. I always understood his love for Yoon Hee to be the “I’m-happy-as-long-as-you-are” sort, rather than of the “I-love-you-so-much-you-have-to-be-mine” variety (ahem, Ha *cough* In *cough* Soo).

Secondly, the drama spent 19 hours laying the foundations, mixing the cement, and building up the Sun Joon-Yoon Hee romance. There was no way Yoon Hee was going to end up with Jae Shin at the end of the 11^th or rather, 20^th hour. Heck, we all knew Sun Joon was going to be the chosen one the moment he got egged in episode 1 (or when they announced that Micky Yoochun would be playing the role). Either way.

Thirdly, no Yoon Hee for Jae Shin equals one less competitor for me. Hooray to that, yes?

And finally, and perhaps most importantly, I agree with everything Miss Tofu very aptly wrote in her Blogger’s Note #9 @ A Little Bit Scandalous. Rugged chivalry trumps stoic-moral-rightist in K-dramaland any day, but in the end, reality still kicks them all in the butt. (On another note altogether, can you imagine if your other half refuses to bathe for days in a row, masked hero or not?)

–Yeah, I know, point 3 and point 4 contradict each other, but what’s a “realistic” fangirl to do? Ha!-

That being said, I DID toy with the idea of Yoon Hee being with Jae Shin, and I got a request to write a piece with Jae Shin as the other half of the OTP. But I could never come up with an appropriate and believable premise for the two of them to ride away towards the sunset happily ever after. Then I remembered Christopher Nolan’s 'Inception', and the 'self-strangling, TV-whacking, remote-control-throwing' finale of the American TV series LOST. Basically, there are only 2 scenarios where ANYTHING can happen—(1) in a dream, and (2) when everyone dies and is stuck between heaven and hell.

But like I said before, I’m a Sun Joon shipper, and I’m a crack addict of SKKS. No way was I going to kill anybody. So there you go, Reality Check- The Epilogue.

I have to say though, it was a fun piece to write, and I do hope at least some of you had fun reading it.

p/s. How glad am I that I wasn’t the scriptwriter for SKKS? Haha! I’m 100% positive that if the drama had used this version for an epilogue instead of their fashion designer/blue messenger/red book one, the number of SKKS fans would have dwindled down to a grand total of about 1... No, let's make that 0.

[Play Pretend] - A SKKS Fanfic

[What if Yong Ha had been forced to marry that mystery girl in Ep. 17? A foray into the what-might-have-been.]

Title: Play Pretend
Genre: Angst (Alternate Timeline)
Characters: Yong Ha, OFC (Original Female Character)
Words: 1374
Summary: They are both brilliant actors, trapped in roles that neither want.  
---Eleven glimpses into the unhappy marriage of Gu Yong Ha and Park He Ra.

Musical inspiration: California King Bed by Rihanna [download] [Youtube]

“In this California king bed, we’re ten thousand miles apart…”

o.o0o.o

There are many reasons why she married him, but love was never one of them.

o.o0o.o

Their courtship is perfunctory. Pretty declarations of intent arrive in the form of fragrant hot-house flowers and flawlessly cut gemstones, and He Ra smiles prettily and pretends to be flattered as she accepts these meaningless tokens from the Gu House servant, all picked out and packaged by his young Master’s hands.

The (too-bright) flowers she gives to her younger sisters (He Ra has always hated the colour yellow anyway), and the jewels are immediately valuated and sold to pay off some of the family’s debts – their non-existent debts, as far as polite society is concerned.

(The gifts mean nothing to Park He Ra except how much they are worth.)

o.o0o.o

“Lady He Ra,” her intended greets winsomely, when they meet in person for the first time. “It truly is a pleasure.”

“Lord Yong Ha,” she returns equally sweetly, trying not to curl her lip in disgust at his title – a counterfeit, coin-bought farce of a genealogy his filthy street-corner blood doesn’t even deserve. It chaffs at He Ra that she – the Park He Ra – needs this man, and that her once-exalted family has sunk so low as to consort with such riff-raff. Gu Yong Ha is a dandy dressed in colours as vivid as the flowers he sent her, and coupled with the dazzling smile he flashes, it is almost bright enough to give her a headache.

(…Then again, it always is rather discomfiting to find that your would-be-husband is prettier than you are.)

o.o0o.o

In their occasional pre-marital meetings (all minutely pre-arranged and carefully chaperoned, of course), Yong Ha is never anything but perfectly solicitous.  

“Allow me, Agaassi,” he says, gallantly offering his arm during a pleasant evening stroll on the night of the Harvest Moon festival. “The path is slippery here,” he explains, “and I can’t bear to see such a beautiful lady fall.”

Unmoved by the flattery (‘lady’ she is, ‘beautiful’ she is not), He Ra merely smiles and thanks him, before dutifully accepting his pro-offered arm. Though his actions are ever-gentlemanly, his touch is light and devoid of ardour, and He Ra is much too prudent a woman to fool herself into believing that he actually cares for her.

A commercial transaction, she thinks. Offer and acceptance. Supply and demand.

A mutually beneficial arrangement.

(It’s never been anything more than that.)

o.o0o.o

Their wedding is an ostentatious and overly lavish affair, with enough wine and guests and fireworks to make it to the front page of the morning news the following day.

The entire event is a little too lavish for He Ra’s liking, but it was never really about her (for her) – not really. From the fine red-violet bridal silk to the important Ming delicacies at their sumptuous wedding feast, it was only ever just an excuse for the wealth of the Gu House and the prestige of the Park House to be proudly flaunted for the whole world to see. She knows this.

But she doesn’t mind.

Appearances, after all, were important. They mattered.

(He Ra understood this better than anyone.)

o.o0o.o

Alone in the wedding chamber, she waits for her new husband to come to her. It is their wedding night, and though she knows what is expected of her, the clammy iciness in her palms betrays her trepidation and fright.

‘No!’ she reminds herself, gritting her teeth. ‘Don’t forget who you are. You are Park He Ra – daughter of a great and noble House – and you cower before no merchant’s son!’

And so, when her husband finally enters the room to lift her veil, He Ra’s eyes are serene. Slowly, silk and hair pins fall to the floor as her naked figure is revealed in the flickering candle light.

Face averted, half hidden by a curtain of long, ebony hair, He Ra allows herself to smile at the irony. Though she has never been so bare in front of any man, the walls to her heart have never been so impenetrable. 

o.o0o.o

As she stares at her husband’s peaceful, sleeping face, He Ra acknowledges that it could be much worse.

He’s not a bad man, she admits to herself grudgingly. A wry, sardonic smile teases the corners of her mouth when she recalls their previous night’s activities. And definitely not a bad lover.

But while she knows that most women would have long succumbed to her husband’s (too) pretty looks and many charms, Park He Ra is not ‘most women’. There is something that rings altogether false about this charismatic man, with his too practiced smiles and quicksilver tongue, but He Ra refuses to be charmed by it. It makes her suspicious. It makes her wary.

(You may have bought my title with three thousand mun, she thinks. But you, husband, cannot buy my heart so cheaply.)

o.o0o.o

He is not a sincere man, but then again, she is not a sincere woman.

“The servants tell me that you didn’t come home last night,” He Ra remarks in passing late one morning over tea. Her voice is light. “Did work keep you up again?”

Her husband makes a face. “Unfortunately so,” he replies, equally lightly. “There was a mix-up with one of our premium silk shipments. I was forced to spend the whole night at the warehouse, sorting through the samples. Aish, it was dreadful!”

He Ra quirks a brow. “…Oh?” 

His expression turns sly. “I would have much preferred being in bed with you, of course...” he purrs, his eyes suggestive and full of promise.

Liar, she thinks. Liar, liar, liar.

“I’ll have Mi Na make you some ginseng tea,” she says, tutting sympathetically. “You work too hard!”

Picture of the doting wife, He Ra does not draw attention to the fact that there is a stray and very telling blue-black bruise on the back of his neck – a lovebite that she never put there. 

(We all play our parts.)

o.o0o.o

Months later, her increasingly absent husband is shocked when he discovers that she can manage their household accounts on her own.

“I didn’t know you could use an abacus,” he says, his voice laced heavily with surprise.

For long moments, He Ra is silent – the slight pause in her dextrous fingers the only indication that she’d heard him. (Briefly, she wonders if she should point out to that when one grew up in a withering noble family who struggled to make ends meet while pretending to have money to spare, balancing numbers became more than a life skill – it became a matter of simple survival.)

But He Ra stays silent.

The seconds tick by and Yong Ha is forced to clear his throat several times in the uncomfortable quiet. Finally, after giving the wooden beads one last flick, He Ra lifts her eyes to meet his gaze, her expression polite but utterly cold.

“With all due respect, most honourable husband,” she replies at last, the addressal almost farcical in its courtesy. “…there is much that you do not know about me.”

(You never bothered to try.)

o.o0o.o

It is not a happy marriage, but they are very convincing pretenders.

Years later, Yong Ha will still shower He Ra with empty compliments and empty gifts. Years later, He Ra will still remain the dutiful, faithful wife, keeping the dinner warm when he is late and a cup of tea waiting by the door when he finally (if at all) gets home. Years later, they will have perfected this script so well that they won't even be certain if they’re acting anymore.

But He Ra doesn’t know this yet.

For now, for tonight, when Yong Ha stumbles home in the early hours of morning smelling of strong liquor and easy women – other women – she can only dig her fingers into the bedding and turn away, feigning sleep.

She never deluded herself that a man like him would remain faithful, and least of all to her.

Besides, I don’t care, she tells herself fiercely, I don’t care. I don’t.

Because it was never about love or fidelity or honour (silly things, useless things) in this sham of a marriage anyway – it was never about that.

She knows this.

(I sold myself to this fate.)

o.o0o.o

The next day, Park He Ra orders a han-bok shot through with gold.

o.o0o.o

Author’s Note:

I know you will all hate me for this, but I just can’t seem to stay away from the angst. Personally, I really like how this piece turned out (actually, I think it's probably my favourite piece so far)… although you’d probably disagree with me there?

However, please let me clarify --- it isn’t that I don’t want Yong Ha happy – believe me, I do! – but that I just find it really hard to believe that a pleasure-seeking, easily bored and very dangerous playboy of a man like Yong Ha will ever be happy with just one woman. (Unless, of course, it happened to be Min Jin. =P) Oh, I'm sure he'll be good and charming and not a bad husband, necessarily, to his wife, but I doubt the bonds of marriage alone will keep him away from Moran-gak. And back then, it wasn't like it was anything unusual for men to stray. Most women accepted that.

I wrote ‘Play Pretend’ predominantly as a way of exploring what arranged marriages to men like Yong Ha often was like for their unlucky wives, and it is intended to be read in parallel with/as a companion piece to ‘Stay’. The central theme running through both pieces is, of course, trust. More than anything – or so the older generation tells me – marriages will only work if both parties are 100% determined and 150% committed to make them work. In order for that to happen, communication and trust are key – both of which are (as you can see) glaringly absent in ‘Play Pretend’.

The real tragedy, I think, is that Yong Ha and He Ra would otherwise be so very compatible – if only they’d been brave enough to stop pretending. He Ra won’t let herself love Yong Ha because she wants to spare herself the heartbreak, and Yong Ha isn’t committed enough to He Ra to worm his way through all the shields she’s raised around her heart. His insincerity keeps her at a distance, her coldness chases him away. It’s sad, because I think they’re truly made for each other. 

Personally, I really like He Ra as a character – even in all her flawed, cold-hearted bitchiness. To me, she embodies that girl that you love to hate, but at the same time can’t help loving and/or sympathising with anyway. I hope you’ll be able to see the humanity and vulnerability and strength in her, despite her blue-blooded prejudice and manipulative, mercenary attitude. If not, well – I haven’t done my job properly. =P (Also, maybe you'll also notice the yellow/gold tie-in in the opening and closing scenes? Deliberate, as always, lol.)

Let me know what you think! I’m really curious as to your thoughts on this one. =)

xoxo

Tofu

[Stay] - A SKKS Fanfic

#3 in the [10 Moments] series:

Ten different scenarios, ten different women --- ten different ways for Jae Shin to love again. Told in ten self-standing short stories.

Title: Stay
Genre: General, Family (Post-Drama)
Characters: Jae Shin, OFC (Original Female Character)
Words: 1206
Summary: He doesn’t love her and she doesn’t love him. But they could learn. Together.

Musical inspiration: Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard (Once OST) [download] [Youtube]

o.o0o.o

On the day of her wedding, Han Eul cries.

o.o0o.o

She’s never met her groom, but she’s heard the rumours --- and of his gambling, his drunkenness, his brutality and violence, there are plenty. Sometimes, it was even whispered that Moon Jae Shin could kill a man with his bare hands without breaking sweat.

‘Guh-ro’, they called him, and his name strikes her heart with fear.

Crazy Horse. Wild One. He-Who-Cannot-Be-Tamed.


The very thought of such a monster's hand on her repulses Han Eul to the core, but this marriage is her father’s will, and Han Eul is nothing if not a filial daughter.

Her father is her Lord and Master, and obeying him is her duty – just as she must one day obey her husband, and later, her son – if Heaven is kind enough to bless her with such a gift.

…She has no other choice but to do so.

o.o0o.o

She is a reluctant, trembling bride in brilliant scarlet silk, her face painted in the ghostly pallor and unnaturally red lips of a porcelain doll. It forms like a stiff, frozen mask over her face, belying the sharp, gnawing terror in her heart.

Every step forward weighs on her thin shoulders like the pinching load of the elaborate bridal headpiece on her head; the bright, thunderous sound of wedding drums and firecrackers ringing like a funeral dirge in her ears.

o.o0o.o

As her unduly swollen and still-red eyes meet her groom’s, and Han Eul takes in his appearance for the first time, she is shocked to find that he is startlingly, boyishly handsome.

Is it possible for someone so beautiful to be so monstrous? ---He looks nothing like the Guh-ro she imagined, or the gruesome beast that the rumours painted.

But Han Eul knows better than to take comfort in this unexpected revelation.

…After all, monsters could have beautiful faces, too.

o.o0o.o

The ceremony over, the lavish wedding feast at an end, the new bride is led by a bevy of clucking matrons to her marriage bed, where she is carefully undressed and readied for the night ahead. When their duties are done, the women leave in a chattering cloud of helpful insinuations and laughter, and all too soon, Han Eul is left frighteningly alone in the sudden, ominous silence. 

And so she waits, trembling in the dimly lit wedding chamber, listening for the sound of her husband’s approaching footsteps to the quick-fire rhythm of her pounding heart.

o.o0o.o

In wide-eyed rigid vigil, Han Eul sits, but even when the morning light streaks pale orange across the eastern horizon, of her husband there is still no sign.

He never steps foot into the wedding chamber.

Not that night. Or the next. Or the next.

Eventually, sheer exhaustion wins out over the maidenly fear of her matrimonial duties – those terrifying, unknown and unmentionable things that she knew were expected of a wife – until Han Eul at last succumbs to an exhausted stupor on the third night.

Slowly, the new Lady of the House of Moon grows accustomed to sleeping alone.

o.o0o.o

As the days pass, Han Eul realises that her previous fears were utterly unfounded. Her husband would never lay a hand on her. He would never strike her, or hurt her.

...He doesn’t even touch her at all.

o.o0o.o

Days turn into weeks, weeks into months. As winter melts into spring, Han Eul gradually settles into her new life. When her daily household duties are done, she reads, embroiders, and takes long strolls in the extensive Moon gardens to admire the budding flowers. Her father-in-law is stern, but kind, and she is both relieved and saddened to find that she has no mother-in-law under whose thumb she would live out her days. Instead, it is the servants’ malicious whispers that make her flinch, but Han Eul tries to ignore them as best she could.

‘The young Lady has yet to produce an heir,’ she overhears them say. ‘…Hardly surprising, when the young Lord never visits her.’

‘Perhaps she’s displeasing to him.’

‘Perhaps he’ll take a concubine.’

‘Perhaps he already has a lover.’

Although self-doubt and anxiety blooms like the pale petals of the plum blossom tree she so adores, Han Eul continues to spend her days in relative peace and tranquillity. She rarely sees her husband, and when she does, he is as much a stranger to her as he was three months earlier.

Han Eul forces herself to enjoy the solitude, refusing to admit that she is lonely.

o.o0o.o

On the last day of Spring, everything changes.

o.o0o.o

It is just after midday, and the house is quiet. Alone and confident of Jae Shin's absence, Han Eul heads for the Moon family library, hoping to finish writing a few letters home before evening fell.

---The last thing she expects is to see him there.

Her husband is sitting at the lone desk in the middle of the room, poring over an old scroll laid out before him. Although he is dressed presentably enough today, his wild hair is still rebelliously loose, and a few stray locks fall into his eyes when his head jerks up at Han Eul’s sudden entrance.

---He looks just as shocked to see her there.

For a long, awkward instant, the hapless pair can only blink owlishly at each other, until years of unforgiving etiquette-training finally takes over, and Han Eul bows, hurriedly backing out.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammers out gracelessly, even as her panicked thoughts clamour for attention in her head. When did he come back? Why was he here? He was never at home in the afternoon! “I didn’t think you’d be—since you—I mean, that is to say—I’ll… I’ll go.”

“No, stop!” he calls out suddenly, instantly halting her nervous retreat. There is an almost unsteady, hesitant quality to the brashly forceful tone. “Just—Just wait a moment.“

Han Eul turns, expectant. This is the most he’s ever said to her.

She watches, wide-eyed with surprise, as her husband pushes aside some books to make room for her at the aged gingko-wood desk.

Slowly, he swallows, his dark gaze flitting to hers before just as quickly flitting away.

“You—“ he mutters lowly. “…You can stay.”

o.o0o.o

You can stay.

o.o0o.o

So maybe he doesn’t love her. So maybe she doesn’t love him. But they still have a lifetime ahead to learn to love each other.

Maybe someday they’ll be brave enough to meet halfway. Maybe someday the carefully constructed spheres of ‘yours’ and ‘mine’ will fall, fading into ‘us’ and ‘we’ and ‘ours’. Maybe someday they’ll have children, a little boy and a little girl with his proud nose and her dimpled smile. And maybe, just maybe, they’ll be a family, and this will be home.

It is not a happily-ever-after.

…But it is a beginning.

o.o0o.o

Stay.

o.o0o.o

Author’s Note:

In direct contrast to yesterday's Tofu-dish of 'Practice Makes Perfect' crack XD, this is me trying my hand at what is probably my most historically-accurate and realistic piece of SKKS work yet. It is also the fastest piece of writing I’ve ever produced, and heavily unedited, so you’ll probably find that it’s my worst piece of work as well. T_T As in the case of ‘Silence’ – the idea, I think, was a good one, even though the execution leaves much to be desired.

Although arranged marriages seem so archaic and barbaric to most of us now, I have an Indian friend with cousins for whom arranged marriages – yes, even an arranged marriage with a complete stranger – are still very much a reality. But the thing is, she tells me, often these marriages work out very well. Sure, it might not be the quick-fire flash of attraction and love-at-first-sight that girls always dream of, but oft-times, it is the quiet companionship and respect of two people who slowly grow to love each other.

…And who’s to say that isn’t the best love of all?

(Han Eul is So Eun in my head.)

[Practice Makes Perfect] - A SKKS Fanfic

Title: Practice Makes Perfect
Genre: Romance, Humour (Post-Drama)
Characters: Jae Shin, OFC (Original Female Character)
Words: 1908
Summary: The Red Messenger and the Blue Messenger – in a very tight spot.
--- The mother of all clichés, for your (crack) reading pleasure. 

[N/B: This is a continuation of 10 Moments #1: A Lesson in Irony.]

o.o0o.o

“This way! Capture them!”

As he raced along the darkened streets of Hanseong with a band of soldiers fast on his heels, Moon Jae Shin was hit with a distinct sense of déjà vu. But this time, it wasn’t him who had done anything to merit the chase. In fact, Jae Shin hadn’t done anything remotely illegal for the three years he’d been Commander of the Royal Defence Guard.

Nope. Not even a little.

…......Except, perhaps, aiding and abetting a certain Blue Messenger – a Blue Messenger who was currently speeding along like a particularly diminutive shadow by his side.

Jae Shin sighed. “…Do I even want to know why you were graffiting the gates of the Ju House with ‘Is it any wonder Ju Dae Mo’s an unmitigated ass? Compared to his mother, even a baboon has class!’?”

His pint-sized companion sniffed. Even at eighteen, she was still no taller than she'd been when they first met --- or any less troublesome, for that matter. But somewhere along the line, Jae Shin’s half-hearted attempts to capture the little pain-in-the-ass had turned into the full-time job of making sure that the Blue Messenger – otherwise known as Hwang Eun Mi, the clever only daughter of Merchant Hwang – didn’t get herself captured by the hundreds of angry victims of her many ‘grand causes’.

“I wrote nothing but the truth,” she declared proudly. “That—that absolute cad of a man and his snooty high-and-mighty mother had the nerve to break off his engagement with the young Lady Nae just because they found out her family had bought their yang-ban status!” Even through her panting breaths, the outrage and righteous anger in her voice was obvious. “And to think, he actually promised that he’ll ‘love her forever’. Asshole!”

“…Under Joseon law, the Ju House does have the right to do that,” Jae Shin pointed out, ignoring the thoroughly unladylike language that would have made lesser men flinch. “And it isn’t as if the Naes are completely innocent either, being deceptive themselves.”

If looks could kill, then the glare that Eun Mi levelled at Jae Shin would have wiped out a small village. “Hey, they didn’t have a choice!” she argued. “It’s not their fault they weren't born yang-ban – and besides, what’s so amazing about being noble anyway? Merchants can have class, too, you know!”

Gesturing at herself, she turned up her nose in true Hwang Eun Mi fashion. “Take me, for example. I’m very classy.”

Very deliberately, Jae Shin turned away, trying hard not to laugh. Luckily for him, Eun Mi was too caught up in her rant to notice. “I mean, my father bought our yang-ban status, too… and your father doesn’t disapprove of me, right?”

Jae Shin opened his mouth to correct her, but then shut it again, thinking better of it. Technically, Minister Moon didn’t exactly approve either, but he hadn’t kicked up too much of a fuss after he’d found out about their budding relationship. In fact, he was probably just relieved that Jae Shin was finally showing some healthy interest in females at all. When Jae Shin announced his intention to take Hwang Eun Mi as his bride only days before, years of experience of going toe-to-toe with his stubborn son (to little avail) had forced Minister Moon to give his reluctant assent. Of course, he would have been happier with a more blue-blooded match, but Eun Mi could be quite charming when she wanted to be. (…The fact that the Hwang were the richest and most powerful jade merchant clan in the country, and that Eun Mi’s dowry was worth the price of a small island, hadn’t hurt either.)

The footsteps of the angry Ju guards were getting louder. Jae Shin groaned, rolling his eyes heavenward.

“I’m the Commander of the Royal Defence Guard! I should be arresting you for defacement of property – all forty-six counts of it – plus a whole multitude of other crimes and it’ll be no less than you deserve,” he grumbled under his breath. “And yet… why do I always find myself getting your skinny ass out of these ridiculous messes?”

Eun Mi batted her eyes, simpering cutely. “Because you’re passionately in love with me and you couldn’t bear to see this adorable skinny ass be thrown into some icky jail cell, of course.”

Jae Shin scoffed.

“…If you keep spouting such delusional crap,” he retorted, “It’ll become a habit.”

Eun Mi merely smiled, deliberately wriggling the fingers of the hand tightly grasped in his. It was proof enough that his barbed words were all empty blustering. “…Chagiya, I think you and I both know you’re just in denial.”

The convenient gap and perfect hiding place Jae Shin spotted in the walls of the Ju stables saved him from protesting further – although secretly, he knew she was right. (…Not that he’d ever admit to that, of course.)

Yanking Eun Mi by the hand, he all but pushed her under the floorboards. “—Just shut up and get in here!”

o.o0o.o

...Unfortunately, it was only after the pair had squeezed themselves in a tumble of tangled limbs into the tiny space behind the stable’s haystack that Jae Shin realised this was a very, very Bad Idea.

Before he knew it, the formidable Commander found himself sprawled over his petite and very female companion, his face nestled in her hair and her little hand flat on his bare chest where the flap of his doh poh had fallen open. With his body pressed tightly against hers, her modest curves were painfully obvious to him, and suddenly Jae Shin found he couldn’t think at all.

Her gasping breath on the sensitive spot of his neck sent a flood of warmth rushing through him, and the skin beneath her palm felt like it was on fire. Frozen, panicked and utterly helpless to the sudden rush of twenty-six years of repressed hormones, Jae Shin could only wait for her to register the inappropriate place where her hand was resting and rectify the situation on her own. But when Eun Mi made no move to shift her hand, distantly, Jae Shin heard the fast-shrinking rational voice in his head pipe up.

‘…Moon Jae Shin, m’boy, you are officially screwed.’

Jae Shin swallowed. Hard.

The night air, once comfortably warm, now felt thick and cloying. Weak slivers of moonlight shone through the gaps in the wooden boards, splashing over the delicate white arch of Eun Mi’s collarbone and the flushed pink of her cheeks. Helplessly, he found his eyes being drawn to the cupid’s bow of her parted mouth, so close that he only needed to dip down a bare breath for their lips to meet.

…Had her lips always looked this soft, or this tempting?

Unnerved at the direction his thoughts were taking him, he barely registered the sound of his hiccup over the deafening hammering of his heart.

“What was that?” a guard suddenly asked, and Jae Shin cursed his embarrassing knee-jerk reflex that only ever made its appearance when he was near a woman. The footsteps sounded nearer, stepping close enough that Jae Shin could reach out and grab the man’s leg if he’d tried, and he realised with a growing horror from the familiar welling up of pressure in his chest that it was going to happen again and there was absolutely nothing he could do – he couldn’t stop it if he tried----------

---Until Eun Mi reached up with her free hand, entwined her fingers around the thick locks at the nape of his neck, and pressed her lips to his.

The urge to hiccup instantly disappeared in the face of this shocking development.

Utterly flummoxed, Jae Shin could only freeze for several long seconds before his body took over his mind and then his lips were brushing more firmly over hers, meeting her in the kiss.

Warmth, softness, the elusive taste of peaches.

Jae Shin felt, rather than saw, Eun Mi smile, before she tightened her grip on his hair, and pulled him even closer, their pounding hearts beating in sync.

...Neither of them noticed when their pursuers left.

o.o0o.o
 

It was only the need for air that broke the couple apart, and, chest still heaving, Jae Shin stared down at Eun Mi with wide, dilated eyes.

He’d just kissed a girl.
 

He’d just kissed Eun Mi.
 

…He was still on Eun Mi.

Forgetting his surroundings in his panicked haste to get off said girl, Jae Shin hurriedly tried to sit up---

---and promptly banged his head on the low and incredibly unforgiving wooden boards above him.

For the love of—

Swearing loudly, he wriggled back and out, fiercely rubbing at his throbbing head, while Eun Mi only dissolved into peals of giggles, her thin frame shaking with the force of her laughter.

Jae Shin glared. The girl was deriving far too much amusement at his expense for his liking.

“…Well, thank goodness the guards weren’t here to hear that,” she finally managed, as she followed him out moments after, still laughing.

Jae Shin folded his arms, too embarrassed to meet her eyes. With his peripheral vision, he watched as Eun Mi brushed herself off, and then tapped at her lips thoughtfully.

“Funny,” she confessed. “You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve daydreamed about doing that.”

Jae Shin whipped around, bug-eyed.

But Eun Mi just sighed, shaking her head a little as she rambled on in the same offhanded fashion,
“It’s a shame that reality was so disappointing, though. I mean, you’d think that a man like you would have better technique than a merchant’s son, but… I guess not.”

A beat of shocked silence, and then…

“—W-WHAT?! THAT’S—“ Jae Shin exploded, before his eyes narrowed dangerously. “…And how would you know how a merchant’s son kissed, huh?”

Eun Mi rolled her eyes. “Honestly, you can’t expect ‘that’ back there to be my first kiss,” she scoffed. “…I was almost sixteen when I met you, you know – and before that… well, I’ve always been a very curious girl.”

“…Don’t worry, though,” she added brightly. “They were just a couple of meaningless kisses. My virtue is still fully intact for our wedding night!”

Mind carefully blank, Jae Shin said nothing, struggling to think safe thoughts. That was too much information for his brain to handle.

“Besides,” the shameless girl continued. “First kisses are overrated, anyway.” She shot him a nonplussed look. “What, was that yours?”

Taking his gape-mouthed goldfish expression as affirmation, Eun Mi smirked. “…Huh,” she said thoughtfully, before shrugging it off. “Well, can’t say I’m surprised.”

Male pride thoroughly trampled in the dirt by this stage, Jae Shin could only sputter at his betrothed, unable to produce actual words. But Eun Mi only heaved another dramatic sigh, completely ignoring his outraged reaction.

“…Oh well, it can’t be helped,” she said in long-suffering tones. “Since you’ve still got heaps of room for improvement, we’re going to have to create… opportunities for you to practice.”

The sputters died an instant death in Jae Shin’s throat.

Eun Mi smiled mischievously, and there was something in her sly, knowing expression that bore an uncanny resemblance to Yeorim at his flirtatious best. “With me. A lot.”

That said, she skipped off merrily down the street, her long braid swishing enthusiastically with every bouncing step.

Still momentarily frozen in place, Jae Shin could only watch her go, his poor brain trying to process the events of the last ten minutes. As his eyes followed her retreating back, a small smile gradually spread over his lips.

…Practice, huh?

He could handle that.

o.o0o.o

Musical inspiration: Kissin’ U by Miranda Cosgrove [download] [Youtube]

Author’s Note:
 

…If that’s not crack fan-service enough for you then I don’t know what is. XD
 

So I was re-watching Ep 20 again, and after seeing all the cutesy kisses shared between Sun Joon and Yoon Hee, I figured, Jae Shin really needed some lip exercise of his own. Unfortunately, the more serious 10 Moments #3 that I was in the process of writing wasn’t going to quite deliver that.
 

Now, you know and I know that Jae Shin is probably more hopeless than Garang in the female-aversion department, and he’d never get around to kissing a girl if left to his own devices. On the other hand, the bold and daring Blue Messenger would have no problems in taking the initiative, right? 

With the plot-bunny having burrowed itself in my brain, voila! ‘Practice Makes Perfect’ was born.
 

I hope you enjoyed that as much as I enjoyed writing it. ^_~

xoxo.

Tofu