“I don’t know, one moment I think I know. But the next moment I don’t know.”

Apink, Love is Blind

I lay down on the wooden floor, my hair spilled under me as I stared at the ceiling blankly.

I forgot how many days had passed since the Harvest Festival, nor did I care. Every passing hour was painful, and I lost count how many times I would break down, asking myself how everything shattered so quickly. My eyes were swollen beyond any care, and I could barely open them these days; my cheeks were puffy, but it seemed like I was the only one out of my siblings who had it the worst.

Every now and then, my stepmother would come into the room and stare at me from the door, asking me to come and eat with the rest of them. Sometimes she would send Hoseok, knowing that he was the only one who could get me to do anything, but even he refused to come out of his room.

Eventually she seemed to accept that this was how I would be from now on, and stopped coming to my room to beg me to join her for meals.

The day Father left had been so normal. We had said our goodbyes, and he had promised to bring us presents. When he left, he was jovial and merry, and we had parted with the assumption that we would be reunited not long after.

It had always been that way, after all; we had never expected him to not return.

My lip trembled, and I pressed my palms against my eyes, feeling my chest shudder as I began to cry for what seemed like the millionth time.

Don’t cry, Eunji. He’s out there. He can’t be gone, not when they haven’t found him.

I heard the door slid open behind me.

“Eunji,” Jimin’s voice floated in the room, “You haven’t eaten all day. I brought you some food.”

I continued to stare at the ceiling. “I’m not hungry.”

I could smell the food as he set the tray beside my body, and his face loomed over mine.

“That’s what Jungkook said too,” he said gently, slipping a hand under my head and easing me to a sitting position, “But I made all your favorite food and you can’t refuse to eat it.”

I looked at the tray, and noticed how he had decorated the rice with black beans to make it look like a happy face. Then I looked at him, seeing the dark circles under his eyes, the slightly pink nose – probably from crying too – and the tired look in his eyes that he couldn’t mask with his encouraging smile.

We were all the worse for wear, but he was the only one who was constantly looking out for the rest of us. I wondered how he did it.

He held up a cup. “Tea?” he asked, bringing it to my dry, cracked lips.

I inhaled the steam, taking it from him and sipping slowly. “Thank you Jimin,” I said, my voice trembling at the end as I began to cry. “I’m such a horrible sister. I’m supposed to be the strong one.”

He scooted closer, letting me lean against him. “No one said you weren’t strong, noona,” he said tenderly, using his sleeve to blot my tears off my cheek. “Take all the time you need.”

I sniffled. “I hate crying,” I said, hiccupping, “The salt makes my eyes sting.”

He chuckled. “You should see Hoseok-hyung. He’s been bawling too.”

“I should check on him.”

“You’re not going anywhere until you eat my food,” he said, bringing the tray closer, “Mrs Ahn from next door gave some fish, and I made it into a soup. You’ve always liked it.”

I lifted the spoon, my fingers feeling disjointed from the lack of movement, and slurped the soup, feeling the warmth permeate my exhausted, hungry self.

“How is it?”

I pulled my lips up into a smile, sniffling as I patted my brother’s cheek. “It’s delicious.”

“You should try this,” he said, taking another bowl. “Fermented seaweed. I spent all day yesterday making sure I did it right.”

I watched him as he chattered on about how he prepared the meal for me, knowing that he was trying his best to distract me from my grief. “How is the manhunt going?” I asked suddenly.

He paused. “We’re taking turns to follow the other men out into the mountains,” he said, “We’ve not found the body yet.”

“He’s not dead, Jimin.”

He inhaled deeply. “It’s been two weeks,” he murmured, “Father is a survivor, yes, but even two weeks with no supplies…”

“I hope he returns soon,” I said softly, “All I’ve been praying for is to have him return, hopefully alive.”

He nodded, watching me closely. “We all miss him.”

I sniffed, changing the topic. “Mother said you opened your gifts.”

Jimin, thankful for the diversion, smiled. “Yes we did. Jungkook had asked Father for an actual sword,” he said, “He’s been practicing it in his room and he tore through the rice paper door. I should confiscate it from him before he hurts himself with it.”

“What did you get?”

“Oh, I actually asked for the famous poetry book, you know, the one that everyone’s been reading. But Father bought me all the books written by the author,” he said, “Also, you wouldn’t believe what Hoseok-hyung asked for.”

“What did he ask for?”

“A suit of armor. As if he’s going to be a warrior,” Jimin said, trying to laugh but stopping himself, “He took one look at it and kept it away.”

“Understandable,” I replied inaudibly, “Father has a matching pair.”

My brother nodded solemnly, before looking at me. “What did you ask for, noona? I didn't see anything for you.”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

But it was a lie. I could remember the day he left so clearly in my head. We were in the courtyard, and I was brushing the horse’s mane, preparing her for the journey, when Father came out.

What would you like me to buy you, Eunji? Your brothers have already asked me for presents, you’re the only that’s left.

I had shrugged. I just want you to have a good trip, Father.

He had chuckled as he slipped into his shoes. That’s what you always say, child. You never ask for anything tangible. I want to give you something and you ask me to have a ‘good’ trip?

Well, Father, you know I don’t ask for much. You can get me a Korean rose and I’d still be happy.

I’ll get them for you, he had said, clapping his hands together, and you can grow them and make the house prettier. That way I’ll always be reminded of my only flower.

A few days later, I was strong enough to leave my room.

The first thing I saw was Jungkook, swinging his blade in the courtyard as I slid my door open.

Hoseok was seated across, outside his room, staring into the distance.

Both paused when I stepped out.

“Afternoon,” I said, my voice still hoarse from crying.

Hoseok raised a hand in greeting. “Afternoon.”

“Where’s Mother?”

“Down by the river,” my youngest brother answered, “Washing clothes with Mrs Ahn.”

“Jimin?” I asked, slipping into my shoes, tying the strings tightly around my ankles.

“It’s his turn to follow the men into the forest.”

I nodded, getting to my feet before walking down the wooden steps. “I’m going to take a walk.”

“Do you need us to accompany you?” Jungkook asked.

I shook my head. “It’s alright,” I replied, noticing how they were watching me, “I’m alright.”

“If you’re not back by sunset, we’ll go look for you.”

“I’m not a baby,” I said, putting a straw hat above my head as I pushed the doors, letting them slam shut behind me.

It was strange how nothing seemed to have changed. The late afternoon sun was dull in the sky as I walked on the sandy path, as if our small village hadn’t lost one of its more prominent members.

Some of the Harvest Festival decorations remained hung over the streets, the lanterns dangling above me as I walked past the village square. Passing villagers bade me greetings, and I wondered what they thought when they saw me. I could see the sympathy in their eyes, and I could feel the hush in conversations when I walked past their stalls.

I looked down at my feet, feeling my cheeks burn. Better to not meet anyone’s eyes; I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to go, but definitely knew I didn’t want to meet or speak with anyone.

Suddenly, I