Kwon Soohri sighed as she ran a gloved hand through her hair. Even after three years of doing the same thing on this very day, the 14th of July, her mental stamina was reduced from the conflicting emotions that she tried to keep under control. Be strong, she kept telling herself, moving her hand to open the iron wrought gate that had red roses climbing over it. She had to keep her emotions in check to make sure that she didn’t scrunch the yellow bouquet of flowers that were in her hand.

Why get flowers? Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, flowers are superficial. They’re only there to look pretty before they wither and die.
Because flowers have special meanings behind them, they remind people of others, she would reply.
Soohri allowed herself a small smile before resuming her walk down the lane. The small breeze of wind that swept past tickled at her face and rearranged the strands of her hair as she made her way to a large open field. The sun was shining brightly in the sky and there were wispy clouds that dotted the light blue canvas. The evergreen trees that stood tall surrounding the site contrasted against the bright blue of the sky. She squinted and held up a leather-clad hand to block the blinding glare of the sunlight.

It was too sunny.

The weather was just too good for a day of mourning. But it was just how he would have wanted it... Her boots made soft noises on the grass as she walked, locating the one thing that really mattered to her in the field. Even though there were many other monuments on the field, somehow she remembered the location better than she could remember the back of her hand. She halted to a stop as soon as she found it and felt tears prick at her eyes as she looked down at what was in front of her.

You're not allowed to cry. Don’t cry. You shouldn’t cry. Put on your poker face. She already felt tired from just being here, it was just too emotionally taxing fighting with her feelings. Taking deep breaths to quell the tears that pricked at her eyes, she knelt down and bowed, repeating the action three times before moving to clean the gravestone. The placid expression that she tried so hard to keep on her face crumbled away as soon as she read the engraved inscription on the stones head.

5^th August 1964 - 14^th July 2009
here lies Kwon Jae Hwa
a Loving Husband
Proud Father
and Hero

“Annyong, Appa,” Soohri murmured, fighting back a choked sob as she moved to place the bouquet of yellow flowers onto the grave. A glint of white flashed to her eye as she recognised it to be a teru teru bozu doll lying on the side of the gravestone. Typical of umma, bringing appa’s favourite token instead of flowers to wish for good weather, “Umma was here just before right?” she asked, picking up the simple, hand-made cloth doll. She turned its head so that its smiling face looked at her, as if consoling her from her grief in her parents place.

She could imagine her father smiling at her like the weather doll, the corner of his eyes would crinkle and he’d nod.
Soohri smiled in return, but her lips trembled and broke into a frown as she glanced up to the sky, giving the doll a gentle squeeze. “No wonder why it’s so sunny…”

She seated herself down at her father’s grave and cleared the brambles that were covering it, “Umma could’ve waited a little longer so that we could visit you together. But I guess she couldn’t have known. We haven’t seen each other in a while… I guess that’s my fault…” she absentmindedly spoke to him in an undertone, twining the branches between her fingers.
In her mind her father never spoke, but he looked up from the newspaper he read in his hand and gave her an enquiring look. It was the same thing he’d do every morning while they were drinking coffee and eating breakfast before she’d leave for school.

“We kinda lost contact after an argument…” she explained regretfully. Her father frowned, the corners of his mouth turning downwards and he had a look of disappointment in his eyes.

“I think… I think that it’s better that way. She would hurt less if it were like that.” Soohri heaved a sigh, there was so much that was happening to her. There was so many things that she was doing that she knew her parents wouldn’t approve of.
“I’m sorry, Appa. I know both of you are worried for my safety and want to best for me, but I think I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’ve been making money as a martial arts instructor… But I guess you already know what I’ve been up to since you’re up there watching over me, right?”
He gave a lop-sided smile as an affirmation, but his eyes turned grave, as if reprimanding her for arguing with her mother.

Guilt gnawed at her insides but she was determined to stick to her decision. “I know, I know. I’ll contact her as soon as all this is over, ok?”
He gave her another look, as if to say ‘Until what is over?’
Soohri gave a rueful smile, “If only the dead could speak, the task would’ve been so much easier…” Her dad shook his head and looked into her eyes deploringly, placing down the newspaper as he did so. ‘Stop getting yourself into trouble. Don’t do this,’ he seemed to say, placing a protective arm onto hers, ‘it’s too dangerous.’
Her eyes softened in return and her hand moved to grip at his invisible one, her eyes searching his, asking him for understanding and forgiveness. She told his spirit that it was too late and that she didn’t regret her choice, even if it may hurt him and Umma.

“I’m sorry if I disappointed you, but I don’t want to do anything else until I get closure.” Soohri’s eyes hardened behind the tears that started to form. She gripped the teru teru bozu doll that was in her hand.
“I just want to know who it is,” her voice broke as she whispered. Soohri dipped her head and the salty tears that fell from her eyes splashed onto the gravestone. So much for the weather doll’s presence, it was raining after all, raining from her eyes.
“After I find out who it is… Their actions and mine would be justified according to law. Please don’t argue with me like umma has, you know there’s no point… ” she lifted up her head to clear her nose, wiping at her eyes as she did so.

Scenes of the past three years flitted before her eyes and she was taken back to the fortnight where she sat in the same spot after her father’s burial. The same questions that were running through her head for the rest of that year resurfaced on her mind, “Why did you have to die during the investigation? What were you investigating? I need to know…” she cried hoarsely to the grave. For the next year after that, even though she was forbidden by her mother for going into her father’s study, she did anyway after her mother went to sleep. There was something that didn’t add up.

The hospital had released his body after the autopsy and said that he passed from overworking himself, but she knew better. The facts just didn’t fit. After all, how could a strong and healthy man suddenly drop dead in a car park?

Even though the memories were vivid, and the pain of losing him was still fresh, her determination had pulled her through. She felt that the only way to truly heal was to find out exactly what happened. As if it were a hunch, she knew that part of the answer to the largely unsolved puzzle was in his office, the place where it all began that lead to her father’s death. Her only light source was his comforting yellow desk lamp which illuminated the office as she rifled through his files, memorising names, faces and places.

The work was tedious and bleak, and she would feel like all of her efforts have been wasted as soon as she reached a dead end.  She would get angry, she would always get angry, that she was getting nowhere and that life was being unfair for ripping her father away from her. She’d sit there in silence while fighting the grief and depression that crept over her, staring longingly at the picture that their family took together on a trip to Jeju Island, and she’d remind herself exactly what she was doing it for…

Soohri returned from her reminiscence and looked back down at the gravestone, re-reading the inscription until she renewed her determination. Her reflection on the past two years gave her hope to remember what she had accomplished while her mother suffered from grief, and she hoped that this year would be the one where she could bring closure to her and her mother’s tears.

Her eyes hardened in determination and the cold expression that she worked so hard on to mask her emotions returned, “I’m so close to finding them, Appa… I’m so close to finding your killer.”

“Please keep watching over me, Appa, and look after Umma,” she murmured as she stood up. Soohri kissed her index and middle finger and placed it on the stone before walking away, “I love you.”

A.N: Well, first chapter done! I hope you enjoyed. For those who don't know what a teru teru bozu doll is, its a Japanese cloth doll that people make to wish for good weather.