Amber slowly awakens and rubs his eyes. They adjust to the sun’s brightness shining through the window. He observes his surroundings and finds himself in a woman’s room. A room he’s never been in before. The room is a mess. Paintings everywhere, empty bottles of wine… “Wh-what happened here?” he thought to himself. He tries to recall the night before…

              “Krystal,” the gisaeng whispered. “My name is Krystal… Hwagong.”

              “Krystal, huh?” he mumbled to himself, grinning. He fumbled through his bag and grabbed the sundial. “Crap! I’m almost late for cla—” Then he remembered why he was here. Sorrow. Sadness. He raises his hand up and sighs.

              Krystal and Sulli make their way up the flight of stairs. Sulli holds a tray of food. They arrive at their room and Krystal knocks. “Hwagong~” There was no answer. She knocks again. “Hwagong?” This time, she opens the door. She walks in, Sulli following behind her. The room was empty, the hwagong gone… Her soft smile became a small frown. The room was left cleaned after. Sulli spotted something.

              “Krystal,” she said. “Jeogi!” She pointed by the bed.

              It was one of the hwagong’s paintings. Krystal moves to it, bends down, and picks up the painting. She unfolds it. It was a painting of her, playing the gayageum. There was also a poem beside it. The first line read, “Even if the bird’s feathers are plucked, the bird doesn’t stop flying.” The second line,  “Even if the string snaps, the music never stops.” She smiles and continues onto the last line. “Even if I wake up, the dream never goes away.” She lets out a small laugh and reads the stamped name. “Amber,” she says in her head. “Amber…” she repeats aloud, closing her eyes in joy.

              “Krystal-ah,” Sulli said, tapping her on the shoulder. Krystal opened her eyes and snapped back to reality.

              “Huh?” she asked.

              “Didn’t the hwagong… I mean Amber, say something about his hand?”

              Krystal recalled their conversation from the night before. She remembered. She looked down at the painting, her facial expression now filled with worry and sadness. “Oh, Amber…” she mumbled. “I hope everything will be fine…”

              Before facing punishment, Amber wanders the streets of the marketplace. His steps slow, breath steady. “What have I got to lose?” he thought. “Oh, just my whole life…” He ends up by the shop he frequented at. He sees a few of his paintings hung up to be viewed. “Eotteohge..?” he mumbled. He thought about his brother and his seonsaengnim’s words.

              “You will be the best painter of this era,” Henry said.

              “I think you can become the best painter of this era. I want to help you with that,” Lee Soo-man said.

              Amber looked up at the sky. “How,” he said. “How will I become the best painter…” he lifted his hand up to the sky. “Without this hand..?”

Amber decided to walk back toward Dohwaseo, his decision still unmade. Before he reached the gates, he thought about things realistically. “I drew that painting,” he thought. “I must own up to it… They will never stop trying to find the ‘culprit’ anyway. I’ll get caught sooner or later.” He let out a sigh. “Besides…” he said aloud. “If I can’t make it, Henry can still make it. At least one of us will.” He faked a smile and walked toward the gate. Just as his hands reached out for the door handles, he heard his hyung’s voice…

              “I… I did it! I’m the one who painted it..!” Henry shouted.

              “Hyung!” Amber mentally shouted. He busted through the gates and saw his brother, kneeling before the high-ranking officials of Dohwaseo. Lee Soo-man seonsaengnim stood with the officials with his head down… All of the students were standing behind him. They all looked at him in shock. Beside them was the punishment tool… A large rock, tied to the top of the frame. Underneath, a slab to put your hand on. And beside it, a wooden frame system to lock your hand in. And the rope to the large rock stretched a few feet away, tucked under another large rock to be cut by the executor… Amber’s throat and chest felt heavy. He gulped and yelled, “Stop!!” Everyone looked in his direction, including his hyung and seonsaengnim.

The Night Before

              Henry was pacing back and forth in his room, his mind glued to something. “Who,” he mumbled. “Who could’ve painted that?” He was referring to the painting of that woman, holding onto a straw hat. Before he could come to a conclusion, someone knocked on his door. He went to open the door. It was Lee Soo-man seonsaengnim. Henry bowed. “Ah, seonsaengnim,” he said. “What brings you here?”

              “Let’s have a chat, Henry,” Lee Soo-man said.

              “Ne,” Henry replied, guiding his seonsaengnim to his table. They sit and Lee Soo-man looked at Henry with a troubled facial expression.

              “What is it, seonsaengnim?” Henry asked.

              “Henry,” he said. “Are you close with your dongsaeng?”

              “Who, Amber?”

              “Well, yeah. Who else?” he retorted, trying to lighten up the mood while he can.

              “Heh,” Henry softly replied. “Yeah. Amber and I… We’re very close.”

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