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Eomeoni used to tell her she was special. Not only in the way that every child is special to their mothers, but in the way that other people would point their fingers at her and say it between themselves.
Her husband calls it intuition, intelligence, anxiety, and even good luck, but Jinsung knows what it is. She first realized it when Eomeoni died. She was fourteen, and Orabeoni had sent her to get the Uinyeo. Eomeoni’s health had declined rapidly during the past year, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.
At least she thought, until on their way back Jinsung saw the fourth crow of the day. It flew off the branch of a nearby tree, the flapping of its wings taking her hope with them. She had stopped, and then a rush of tears had filled her eyes, and she knew then.
Still, she dragged the Uinyeo to their small house.
Still, nothing could be done.
Orabeoni comforted her, then.
She had known it when Rumi sae-unni had appeared, when she had left, and when the hunters perform their gut to reinforce something they called the honmoon, (even though she can’t see it) that these were and are special occurrences. To date, she still gets a sudden chill every time a demon has dug its way through the honmoon.
And so, she knows – however much she wants to deny it – that this visit is the last time she will ever see her brother.
It’s not at first that she realizes, but later.
At first, she guides him into her home; it’s a tiled house, tucked away in a busy area in Andong City near her husband’s family’s art shop.
“Where’s Hwiyeol-ah?”
“Orabeoni!” she slaps his shoulder, taking his travel sack from him. “Anyone who listens would think you don’t respect my husband.”
“Who’s listening?” Orabeoni smiles but relents. “My apologies, Jinjin-ah. Where is my dear Maeje, where is my dear Ryu-seobangnim?”
Hwiyeol pops his head from behind them. “Hyung-nim? Hyung-nim!” His eyes brighten as he catches sight of Orabeoni. “Did you bring your bipa?”
Orabeoni smiles, “my honorable in-law. How glad I am to see you on this fine day! My honorable bipa is outside with the cart, waiting to play honorable tunes.”
Hwiyeol laughs good-naturedly. “Hyung-nim, you just arrived and you two are bickering and bantering already?”
“Not at all,” Orabeoni says, “I am only following your wife’s instructions. I’m no longer allowed to call you Hwiyeol-ah.”
“What is this!” Hwiyeol pouts. He turns to Jinsung. “Buin, is this true?”
“All I said is I don’t want anyone to misunderstand.”
Ah. Now her eyes are tearing up. Damn pregnancy.
Both her husband and brother put their teasing aside to fret over her.
Eventually, the three of them are comfortably settled in the little covered patio. Hwiyeol excuses himself for a moment to fetch a servant to go get them candied fruits.
Orabeoni drinks the last of his tea, setting his cup carefully on the wooden table. When Jinsung leans forward to refill his cup, he puts his hand over the cup.
“Jinjin-ah, you’ve been married for almost a year now. Is Hwi-I mean, Ryu-seobangnim,” he corrects himself when she glares, “is he still treating you well?”
Her laughter surprises even her because of how easy it leaves her chest. “Treat me well? Very! Did you know? Eomeonim tried to force me into a ritual, so she’d have a grandson first? But that person sent her back to her relatives in Gyeongju to reflect.”
Orabeoni’s frown lines soften. “Good, good. That’s all I wanted,” he says, and asks for more tea. “And you? What do you want your child to be?”
Jinsung’s hand naturally goes to her belly, feeling a fluttering, she can’t help but smile. “I do not mind if it’s a girl or a boy,” she admits easily. “But Auntie Seonghwa said if I have a daughter, she will take her under her wing, so I can’t help but have a little hope.” The fluttering returns. For some reason, she has a feeling her hope will be rewarded.
Orabeoni smiles. “And will you be okay with your child being a hunter? Won’t you worry about her?”
“Wasn’t Rumi sae-unni a hunter?”
His smile freezes for a moment. “She was. Or is. Or will be, I suppose.” Orabeoni looks at his empty cup, then at her. “Jinsung-ah, do you remember a lot from those days?”
“How can I not?”
Orabeoni’s brittle smile fades. “I think about them a lot, recently.”
Jinsung’s heart sinks. “Do you still have those nightmares?”
It’s like her words wake Orabeoni from a trance. His gaze flits to her face before poking her on the forehead, smiling when Jinsung rages.
“They’re not nightmares, just dreams.”
“Dreams, my foot,” Jinsung thinks.
How could they be neutral dreams when they have plagued his sleep for ten years?
Hwiyeol returns shortly after, and they’re all in high spirits again, and Orabeoni brings his bipa out, and everything is seemingly fine, but Jinsung feels uneasy. When they go to sleep, Hwiyeol insists it’s her anxiety playing a trick, but Jinsung knows better.
Orabeoni hasn’t been well. He hasn’t been well for a while.
Their smuggling out of Hanyang had gone well, and it wasn’t until they were settled in Hahoe that Jinsung noticed.
Their documents were fixed with the help of the Ryus, and Orabeoni had declared himself a widow and had lived like that for the past ten years. He pretended to be in high spirits, always making sure Jinsung wouldn’t catch him, but she did. When he would sneak out to sit outside alone, leaving his room empty for long walks at night to the dangsan tree of the goddess Samsin. Ever since Rumi sae-unni left, he hasn’t been well.
People encouraged him to “remarry,” and there was even a few girls that had chased him, but nothing worked. Nothing makes him happy for long. Not when they hear that their father’s wife had left Hanyang in disgrace; not when Jinsung makes her first friend in Hwiyeol; not when Jinsung marries.
Even now, when Jinsung gets up in the middle of the night because she just can’t fall asleep, she finds him sitting on the patio, the bipa in his hands, staring out into the distance.
Like this, with the moonlight on him, he seems alienated; estranged. Jinsung feels like he doesn’t belong there.
Not in her house, or even this world. It feels like he longs for something that isn’t there. Something he can’t have.
Jinsung has a pretty good idea of what it is.
That’s when the spark of that foreboding feeling ignites inside her. It makes her rethink the gift she had prepared for him.
Orabeoni looks around, and Jinsung hides even further behind the wall, though it’s very unlikely he can see through the back of his head.
Then he starts playing, and the song he softly sings brings tears to his eyes.
보고 싶은 그 사람
(bogo sipeun geu saram - The person I miss)
멀리서 빛나는 별이오
(meolliseo bitnanun byul-io - Is a star shining from afar)
가질 수도 없지만
(gajil sudo eobjiman - Though I cannot have you)
그대를 기다리오
(geudaereul gidario - I wait for you)
매화 같은 내 사랑
(maehwa gateun nae sarang - My love, like a plum blossom)
날 잊지 말라고 기도하고
(nal itji mallago gidohago – I pray that you don't forget me)
언젠가 우리 또 만날 수 있겠소
(eonjenga uri tto mannal su itgesso - And that we might meet again someday)
His voice breaks a little and he has to repeat the last line. He tries this or that note again, as though it’s not breaking his heart to sing it again. It feels wrong to keep watching, so she drags her heavy heart back to her bedroom.
Jinsung tries to fool herself for the rest of her brother’s visit. She tries to tell herself that the feeling is nothing more than her concern for her brother, exacerbated by her anxiety or her delicate situation, but deep down, she knows.
She knows even at the last minute, when he nods at her, only carrying his bipa and his sack now that his gifts were delivered.
Hwiyeol bows, but Jinsung rips herself from her husband’s arms, running inside, snatching the dumb thing, and running back to meet her brother.
“Here,” she says, pressing the geolgae into his hands. “Here. Please, Orabeoni.”
She wipes her sweat, her heart hammering as Hwiyeol reaches her.
“Buin, what’s gotten into you?” he says as he holds her, but all Jinsung can do is watch her brother give Hwiyeol the bipa to hold, unfold the geolgae with his hands and see his face change as he takes Jinsung’s work in.
His eyes well up with tears as his gaze travels over the painting.
“It may be inaccurate,” Jinsung hurries to apologize. “It has been so long…”
Hwiyeol gasps in understanding. After all, he witnessed her dedicate two hours of her day every day to prepare this.
“No,” says her brother. “This is…” He swallows, blinking, wiping away tears. He rolls the painting back up.
And Jinsung waits.
Waits for him to chastise her for bringing up something painful, or anything.
Anything but the yearning she can see in his eyes.
Something that tells her he will get over Rumi sae-unni.
But there’s nothing, and Jinsung can no longer deny the fear that has been there since that very first night.
When he gifts Hwiyeol his bipa in return, Jinsung bursts into tears.
She can’t help herself. She gets so upset when he leaves, she is sick for three days in bed and only recovers fully when she gets a note from her brother saying he’s arrived safely back to Hahoe.
When smallpox arrives in Hahoe a couple of months later, she’s not surprised. After all, it has been affecting the surrounding areas; Jinsung’s own household had to isolate, especially since her pregnancy had progressed further.
When the notice that her brother has passed away comes to them, it takes four people to restrain her, and she’s not allowed to bury him properly.
She knows they are right to; for her child’s health, how could she go, heavily pregnant, into a place where illness is still at the height of spreading?
It breaks her heart. She hangs onto ephemeras; little pieces of her brother’s life that she hoards like a magpie. The bipa goes from her husband’s study to hers, and she only comes out of the fog when their daughter needs her. Her resentment for not being able to hold his funeral or only being able to have her brother’s sinju at home shortly before the first-year anniversary strains her relationship with Hwiyeol.
It is only after Hwiyeol himself takes her to Hahoe in person once she is fully recovered and their daughter is old enough for such a trip that things begin to heal.
Jinsung makes it a tradition to visit Hahoe every summer, and Hwiyeol leaves the shop to their employees on those days to come with her.
She begs until her brother is reburied properly, and though it costs their family a fortune, Hwiyeol doesn’t complain. She makes sure he is buried with the norigae he always had with him, but they keep the bipa to themselves.
And she lets it go.
She lets it all go the day she turns older than he ever was.
The son her mother-in-law had so badly wanted follows after a few years, and Jinsung gets a feeling that everything will be alright now.
And Jinsung is usually right about these things.