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When Hui-seong lived in Japan, he was often dissatisfied with the things done differently from his homeland. Ae-sin considers him a rich brat with no aim in life, in which she is completely right, but he’s still a proud Joseon man.
A part of Japanese culture he often found strange was the samurais' practice of seppuku. Who would ever kill themselves when the world is full of sake to drink and pretty women to gamble with?
He understands now. Sitting in an empty train car with the leader of Jingogae and his fiancée as they glare at each other is making him want to kindly ask the samurai for his blade and slit his own throat.
He sighs. He didn’t mean for this ride to be so awkward. He has a legitimate excuse to call on Ae-sin this time, other than just wanting to see her face. Although, if he’s being entirely honest, he didn’t rent out the whole tram just on the pretext of secrecy. Even in their current situation, even as he readies himself to plead with Ae-sin to continue wearing a suit that might very well get him killed (but will reduce the chances of her dying, and what else really matters), his thoughts stray to other matters.
Like how nice it would be to be alone on a tram.
He wants silence surrounding them, their words the only sound. He wants the wind slightly tousling her hair. He wants her to focus all her energy on him. Just like during that billiard game, when his hands ran over hers as he taught her to play. He wants the entire town to know he rented out the train car just for her. He wants her servants to comment on it. He even wants her dissatisfied sigh in response, her disgusted glance in his direction.
Hui-seong can’t help it. He’s a romantic.
He hadn’t realized, however, that letting the entire town know that he was renting out the car for him and Ae-sin would come with the consequence of having his romantic rival join them. One of them, at least.
He doesn’t dislike the samurai, just like he doesn’t dislike the American. In fact, he finds them both to be good company. To be fair, there aren’t many people he doesn’t get along with. It comes with the territory of having a family full of psychopaths. You learn to see good qualities wherever you can find them. Sure, they both want to kill him, but there are greater flaws.
But as good-natured as Hui-seong is, he’s not immune to jealousy. And the way Ae-sin’s eyes narrow with displeasure when they land on the samurai is more than enough to trigger it.
She should only look at him with that expression. He’s accepted that her heart belongs to another man, but sharing her hatred as well is too much.
Is Dong-mae the man Ae-sin holds close? He’d assumed it was the American, but now he isn’t so sure. There’s a charge in the air between them, the weight of something left unsaid. Or perhaps something neither dare to speak aloud.
Did they share a moment while he was away in Japan? Do they have a past he is unaware of? It seems unlikely, given their difference in social status, but clearly his fiancée is intent on breaking every expectation of a noble Joseon lady that she can.
He doesn’t understand her. He loves her. But he still doesn’t understand.
Ae-sin. Eugene. Dong-mae. Why do they live that way? A life constantly under threat, as easily extinguishable as a flame? And worse yet, deliberately taking the lives of others, watching them exhale their final breaths.
It’s a violent lifestyle. He thought it was human nature to seek merriment over bloodshed. To prefer flower petals to guns. Clearly he was wrong.
The samurai finally stands up to leave, and Hui-seong runs over his next words in his head.
Leave me as your fiancé. Whether you wear my suits to fight for our country or to sell it, I will be your shadow.
He wonders if it’ll sound as desperate to her as it sounds to him. How evident it will be that it’s nothing more than a pathetic excuse to hang on to her.
Maybe he’s crazy to put his own life at risk just for a pair of scornful eyes, just for one more conversation. He almost wishes that some part of his brain were screaming at him to run back to Japan, to enjoy his life of carelessness and debauchery as long as he can. But even as he can foresee his own end, a victim of the violence he so despises, his brain remains quiet.
He can't help it. He’s a romantic.