[Guest Writer: Nano] Crushed Petals - A SKKS fanfic

Title: Crushed Petals
Characters: Kim Yoon Hee, Cho Sun, War Minister, gisaengs
Genre: Romance/Angst
Words: 1,390
Summary: Kim Yoon Shik has crushed my petals.

o.oOo.o

Note from Nano: Hello everyone, this is Nano, and I'm extremely honored to be here. I'm sorry it's been such a long time since my last (depressing) drabble, but school's been a nightmare. This one's not all that happy either, but I have several more cheerful ones about to be finished, so just stay tuned!

What I have to say about this drabble: The instant Cho-sun revealed herself from the drapes of silks in episode one, I was a goner. This Hwang-Jin-Yi esque goddess made me tremble at her charisma, which flooded the screen. No wonder Ha In-soo fell for her at the age of ten, when I myself developed a girl-crush. Now I'll stop rambling, and in honor of my second favorite character of the series (guess the first), I present Crushed Petals, the thoughts of Joseon’s best gisaeng at her first meeting with the only cross-dressing woman of Sungkyunkwan Scandal.

o.oOo.o

He disgusted me, down to my very core. The War Minister, lecherous as always, tugged at my blouse, eager to begin the night’s revelries. Biting down on my tongue to keep from screaming, I let him rip away my dignity.

At that moment, a young man burst into the room, along with a crowd of attacking gisaengs. He must’ve gotten too excited at the attentions of such lovely ladies. Although the girls would be in for a sound scolding later, all I could feel was relief, then humiliation. The customers in the open room across from us could stare plainly at my bare form.

The scholar was short and girlish. I could feel his horrified stare, first at the War Minister, then at myself. The lecherous old fool spluttered in outrage.

“You—!”

The obviously terrified young man hastily tied his hat, and bowed in apology to “great elder,” stammering out he was from the Sungkyunkwan opening ceremony.

Typical position-greedy idiot eager to be in the good graces of the powerful ministers.

He turned to leave, and I stiffened. The War Minister would fix his disgusting gaze upon me again.

A light shaft fluttered onto my shoulders, covering the bare extent of my form. I widened my eyes in surprise.

Perhaps the young scholar wasn’t such a power-hungry mongrel after all.

I slowly turned my head to meet a pair of deep, almost pained eyes. He gave me a slight smile, modestly turning his face away.

When was the last time anyone had given me such respect before?

He turned again to the minister, this time kneeling. Head bowed politely, he gave a clever speech:

“I apologize for my inability to address you properly, for this servant’s knowledge is shallow, and also for this rude interruption. However, I’m afraid I must take this girl. The student president of Sungkyunkwan declares himself as the first son and heir of the War Minister, and while he wields his great father’s power, he demands I either bring her or suffer the consequences. Either way, I will be excused and kicked out of Sungkyunkwan, but I beg you to allow me to do so in dignity, without the heavy humiliation and punishments our president threatens with his father’s power. I must be sound in body to be able to give my regards and excuses to his Majesty, the King, mustn’t I? He will be disappointed that I only made it so far into Sungkyunkwan because of the War Minister’s power, but I must report to him the parts I have made it to. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

The threats were made clear, and only thinly veiled—it was obvious that he knew who this “great elder” was. It was a clever display, worthy of a Sungkyunkwan scholar.

He gently grasped my shoulder, leading me out of the room, and what would’ve proven to be a hellish night. He turned his head slightly, and I caught a glimpse of his triumphant smile.

And it was ever so slightly that my heart started to flutter.

We marched down the hall, the sounds of the minister’s angry snarls growing fainter, as some of the girls joined us, whining piteously. I ignored them, turning to address my savior.

“It seems you’ve taken my burden and turned it to favor, which I must return. I must inquire your name…”

“Bastard.”

I lifted my eyebrows. His name was Bastard?

“Corrupt mongrels like him sitting on the seat of power are the reason Joseon’s going to the dogs! Those fools should be slid and dumped into Han River and—“

He turned to see the wide eyes facing him.

“Am I wrong?”

The girls behind me smirked. “You’ve met the Cho-sun you’ve been seeking desperately all night, but do you plan to spend it in these halls?”

“Ch-Cho-sun?”

I smiled and lowered my gaze as his shock turned into surprised delight.

o.oOo.o

Properly dressed, I escorted the young scholar to my rooms, which he regarded in apparent fascination. Pouring him a drink, I smiled at his naivety.

“Now, do tell me. What must I help you with?”

He looked down at his hands bashfully, like a child caught causing mischief.

“Er…that’s…it’s…”

“It was a command to secure my underclothes, was it not?”

He seemed to shrink even more in shame. “Yes…you’re right.”

It was impossible not to smirk at the boyish embarrassment of his. If it had been anyone else, I would have refused to meet them, but at the moment, I didn’t mind spending a night with such a bashful, honorable young man.

“If then, all you have left to do is request my services.”

He glanced up, eyes wide and surprised. Inwardly, I sighed. To be the gisaeng who destroyed such an honor, such purity, was hard indeed. For men such as these, his wife should be to one to take his virginity.

I leaned forward, startling him like a fawn. It wasn’t hard to be seductive, although he seemed immune. All the better. It was time for him to learn the ways of women.

The flour on his nose blew off with a small wisp of my breath, swirling like smoke.

His eyes widened.

Abruptly, he broke the moment by leaping to his feet. “It seems that it’s time for me to go.”

I frowned, puzzled. Most youths would have succumbed to my smile moments ago. Why the willingness to dash off?

“Have I done anything wrong?”

He turned to smile apologetically. “It is not anything you have done. I…it seems there’s nothing different between the War Minister and myself. To secure a night with you, isn’t that what we both came for?”

I was startled, to say the least. His thoughts were not that of a regular youth, or even a man. I could foresee a life devoted to his scholarly aptitudes, respecting women and all other living things in ways that the clients of Moran-gak couldn’t even begin to understand.

My heart, at that moment, seemed to flutter a little harder.

“Without my under garments, you won’t be able to pass the opening ceremonies. Will you be all right?”

He turned. “Even if that is so, that is my burden to bear. It is against my morals as a man to create dishonor and embarrassment to a lady for my own purposes.”

I smiled in pleasure. “Leave your night with me. My lord may take just my garments.”

He turned to look at me in surprise, as I pushed forward the frail pink dress. “This is my token to the youth whom I’ve trusted my heart.”

Sitting back down, his hands ghosted over it, unfolding it carefully. Honorable as he was, I turned my head away in shame as he gazed upon it, this man who was not my husband or lover.

Taking out a brush, it was with a few simple strokes he created a masterpiece on the cloth.

Smiling gently, he remarked “This is not the underclothing of a bashful woman. I will keep it in my heart as a cherished memory.”

I beamed. “If then, I must show my appreciation by a simple verse.”

Taking the brush, I wrote in the poetry, suggestive to some, but in my heart, was true:

Long though the day has been
This pleasurable evening is cut short
The other long nights may be full
But this night was fuller still
For it is a time I will not replace even with the longest of winter.

o.oOo.o

Even as I sit here, all these years later, I still remember his gentle blush. That was the boy Kim Yoon Shik, before I realized he’d never existed. An unknown girl replaced him.

It’s painful when we meet in the streets. Our gazes connect for an electric moment, and then I turn, almost shamefully, as I see her husband bound up with their sons in tow.

Ah! I feel cold in this bed.

The man I would’ve preferred to be my lover no longer exists.

The lover I have now, I would prefer if he didn’t exist.

My heart aches.

It was said by a legendary scholar in Sungkyunkwan, that a woman is made of petals.

Am I not a woman?

Kim Yoon-shik has crushed my petals.

I still see them, trampled and dirty in the dirt.

If only, if only…