I didn’t have many childhood memories. We lived outside town, in a nice cozy home with a thatched roof and a outside kitchen, and was located in a wild jasmine field. I was a pretty normal girl. I liked to play with dolls, look at ornaments, and make silly wishes about a future boy. I was always mesmerized by how pretty the Gisaeng were, and often looked at the pretty silk fabric at the market place.

My personality and attitude however always conflicted with the other girls. Since I was raised by a single father, I developed a boyish personality and attitude.

My girlish nature still often conflicted with the martial arts lessons he often taught me.

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I was playing with my new dolls, as abuji came through the wild grass and entered the gate. He stepped up closer to me, with sword in hand.

I knew what that meant.

“Abouji, can I do that later? I’m playing.”

He put his wooden sword over the dolls I was playing with. “No, you can play with your dolls later.”

“But I’m at an important part! Myang Myang finally got married to Hyung” I whined.

“Wait…what? …No never mind, you can continue with Myang Myang and Hyung later. Come on now.” He took my small, five year old hand in his, and pulled me away from the mat. I decided to follow him, I didn’t feel like putting up a fight. Myang Myang just got married, it was a happy occasion and not one to throw a fit at.

We were both in the middle of the endless field

“Watch closely, okay?”

I nodded and prepared to watch closely.

Out of nowhere, Abuji had started a complicated mix of flips, turns and kicks. He then did a double flip and ended with a strong landing.

I stood there, a little intimidated and wide eyed. I had let out a large gasp when he landed.

“Abuji…” I whined. “I can’t do that.”

He turned towards me and wiped the sweat off his brow. “And why not?”

“I’m a girl. Girls don’t do that.” I crossed your arms across my chest, continuing to pout.

“You like to have burping contest with me, but girls don’t do that.” I blushed pure crimson, as father laughed at me reaction. “Anyways boys don’t braid little girl’s hair and yet I do it for you. Girls do this. They just keep it a secret.” Abuji explained.

I blushed even more, then gave the real reason why I doubted I could do it. “I’m short.”

Abuji threw his head back and laughed, walking over and patting my shoulder. “Of course you are, you’re little.”

“My legs are too short to kick that far Abuji! How am I supposed to do that?”

He just grinned, crouching down to my level. “Don’t worry, your legs will get longer then you will be able to kick really far. Now come on and quit pouting so I can teach it to you.”

I sighed, I would really rather be playing with my dolls. “Fine … but I get a new ribbon for my hair.”

“What?! Ugh fine…but only if you perfect the move.” He reluctantly agreed.

I nodded, determined. “Okay Abuji!” I had him show me the move one last time before I began working at the move.

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I grinned at that memory of Abuji. My father had been in the military when he was young. Later when he got kicked out, he got his revenge by robbing rich merchant houses. He never got caught, and stopped after I was born. He taught me how to fight, how to keep to the shadows when running, hide effectively from guards, and even pick the hardest locks. When I was younger I never knew why he wanted to teach me all this. I later just figured he just taught me this to protect myself, just in case.

Although I was very boyish when I was younger, as I grew older I learned how to act like a proper lady from my father. He often struggled with that, but he got help from the old tailor from nearby. She was a second mother to me, although old enough to be my grandmother. She came every two weeks or so to either talk about events in Hanyang such as uprisings, or kindly give livestock or food.

I never remembered much about my mother. When I saw other girls in town shopping with their mothers, I felt a strange pang of loneliness. I used to ask father about where my mom had gone. He would hesitate, but always give me the same answer.

“She had to go somewhere for a while.”

As I grew older, I later just assumed that my mother was no longer on this Earth.

I planned on making Abuji’s favorite soup for dinner, so I quickly left to the market not far from my house. With my basket in my arms, I nudged the door open with my foot and smiled when I entered. “Abuji I’m home!” I called, looking around for him. Nothing.

I began to get worried. I sat the food down in the tiny kitchen and walked into the back. The first room I went to was Abuji’s. I slid the door open and peeked inside. He was in bed, which was odd. He was never in bed at this hour. It was so late in the day. I walked over and gently shook him. “Abuji wake up its past noon.”

He groaned and turned over. He didn’t look well, his face covered in sweat and he was gasping for air. “Hyeon min….” he whispered my name, gently touching my cheek. He was so hot his hand burnt my skin.

“Abuji what is wrong?” I asked, getting worried. I never saw him this sick.

“I’m sick…” he whispered softly, a cough wracking his entire body. A bit of blood dribbled down his lips.

“Abuji there’s …! There’s blood coming out of your mouth! Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” I felt extreme panic and I felt my eyes starting to get wet.

“I didn’t want you to worry…you always worry so much my sweet Hyeon min…” he couldn’t talk above a whisper. A few tears escaped, falling on his pillow.

“Don’t cry, You were always a cry baby.” He had shakily and slowly brought his hand to my face to wipe away my tears.

I couldn’t help but pout at the crybaby comment, but it made me feel a bit better, like he was going to be okay. “I’ll go get the ajumma okay?“ I got up and wiped my face for some trace of tears. He tried to protest, but I quickly left before he could.

I came to her gate, and yelled for help my face a little swollen from the earlier tears.

“Oh dear what happened.” She said as she walked as fast as she could towards me.

“My father-”

Somehow oddly, as if she knew, she had ran past me into the direction of our house. I ran along behind her. She later noticed me running after her and stopped me.

“Go back.”

“Why?”

“His cough is contagious.”

“I don’t care.”

“Your father will.” We both looked at each other for momment.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine”

I hesitated, unsure of what to make of this. I finally decided to stay back.

Hours later ajumanni came back. I ran up to her. Her face looked more aged and filled with grief.

As if heaven was mourning with me, the sky turned dark and rain was pouring along with my tears.