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In that entire week Namjoo learned that Madam Cho was the owner of the bathhouse. She strutted around in expensive robes with intense expressions. Often wearing strong colored makeup and snapping at other servants to work harder. Whenever the y lady passed by Namjoo she always received some type of glare. But the woman hadn’t raised her hand to her again.

Every morning, day, and night someone always came to change her clothes. Brought her meals to her. Namjoo spent her days roaming around. Bored. No technology to keep her company. No phone to connect with anyone else. Her favorite shopping mall didn’t exist yet. Namjoo didn’t have cash or credit cards to spend.

Her entire life was swept from right under her feet.

She didn’t know how to live, so she started chatting with each of the girls that came to serve her. One of them came from China to work at the bathhouse. Earning whatever she could to send back to help feed her eleven siblings. Another girl was picked up on the street by Madam Cho for her face. A pretty thing would help attract customers and she would live here to serve them was what she was told. So here that girl was, living the life imposed on her just for warm food and a roof over her head.

A variety of other random girls came from different places of different statures. Parents given up on them. Girls left to fend for themselves. Some women born here and growing up to inherit the work their mothers had fulfilled.

Namjoo also learned if paid ten pounds of extra money, a man could ask for other services. That explained how young girls kept popping up to keep the bathhouse running. It had appalled Namjoo so much her eyes had grown as round as the moon.

The piteous lives the girls here lived under enraged her, but Namjoo didn’t know what to do. She had no place here. Her family’s lawyer wasn’t here. How could she pull out a card and call the police? Did they even exist here?

In the gathering of one week, Namjoo still hadn’t garnered enough information about this place. Just the tiny bits she had pieced together about the bathhouse and its illicit business.

Though no one laid their hand on her Namjoo was still not considered the woman she was in the 21^st century. Just known as someone a top notch higher than the servant girls and a tad lower than Madam Cho. Still unsure what kind of middle place that was and how it defined her.

How was she going to figure this out?

If she was smacked right into this place she might as well find out what little thing she could do.

Namjoo kicked at the dirt. She hadn’t been sleeping well at night because she slept more often during the day out of boredom. Most times just lying in bed awake. Tossing, turning. Frustrated.

Praying yet that this was some nightmare.

Kicking at a pebble Namjoo stalked over to the pond. Crouching down. This entire week had felt like the longest period of her life. She just had nothing to do!

There were no assignments sitting on her desk for her. Nothing on her hands to complete. No meeting to attend. Not a pad or pencil around her. No note left behind to tell her she needed to make a call to so and so. Her schedule that had been full from brim to brim was extinguished to nothing in this world. Leaving her jittery and anxious to do something.

The night breeze was chilling, so she had slipped on an outer coat. A silk cloth kind of thing that couldn’t even be regarded as a jacket, but she had to make do. Probably no one even knew what a real coat was.

Reaching for another pebble Namjoo tossed it into the pond. Listening to the plop as it splashed. Only thinking about how life here was meager and meaningless.

“Are you aiming to kill a fish in there?”

Her eyes shot up. It had been dead and quiet when she’d slipped out of her room. Down the abandoned hallway into the courtyard where the moon was shining the brightest. The cherry blossom leaves swaying, as if beckoning to approach.

Quickly glancing over her shoulder, Namjoo craned her neck to stare up at Chanyeol. Gaze settling on him. Questioning herself if she was experiencing some sort of illusion. Or maybe she was having a lucid dream.

Her head lowered when Chanyeol sat down beside her. Grabbing a pebble, he, too, tossed it into the water. The splash was light. Namjoo turned to see a tiny ring of circles faintly spread out before vanishing. She blinked then turned to observe him.

He looked solid enough to be real.

Cocking her head, she stared through the side of her eye. Seeing the east side guest house in her peripheral vision. She was surprised. Chanyeol had left with his troop a while ago.

“I just arrived,” Chanyeol said. “There’s a riot in Gobu I was sent to take care of.”

“Gobu?” Namjoo frowned.

“East of here,” he explained. “It takes a quarter of a day between here and there.”

“Why here?” Namjoo questioned. “I’m sure there are places in that city or is it a village?”

He didn’t clarify for her. Just said, “It costs less here.”

“Does it?” Namjoo frowned again. She hadn’t asked about nightly fees. Maybe she should. Looking at him she wondered, “How long are you staying?”

“Not sure. Until the riot quiets down most likely.”

She found herself staring into his face. The sharp, handsome features. Looking so identical to her boyfriend. Then reminding herself he wasn’t.

Pushing herself up, Namjoo brushed off her robe. “Then, I’m going to leave. Good night.”

As Namjoo walked off she grasped the silk jacket into her hand. It wasn’t her Chanyeol. She had nothing to talk to him about.

Throwing the jacket onto a chair in her room, Namjoo crept into bed. Pulling the blanket over herself and stared up at the ceiling. Trying to calm her quivering heart. Shifting onto her side she shut her eyes.

Park Chanyeol was not here. He was in the 21^st century waiting for her.

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The general Chanyeol didn’t call for her to bring him breakfast the following morning. Namjoo loitered around in her room. Completely bored after her miniscule breakfast. At the least, the food at the bathhouse wasn’t too bad. The women in the kitchen really knew how to cook.

Namjoo thought about leaving her room to prowl around. The thought of running into Chanyeol during her walk made her step away from the door.

Nothing here made sense to her. Someone like Chanyeol existing in this time was flustering. The fact that it made her situation difficult was unbearable.

Namjoo couldn’t face him. She didn’t know in what kind of light to see him.

Frustrated by herself Namjoo stomped toward the bed and sat down. Pouting, congested by her own thinking.

Then on one hand, she couldn’t mope around either. Getting up she slid her door open. So far all the way that it slammed into the threshold loudly. Surprised, heads poked out into the hallway curiously. Clearing to pretend it wasn’t her, Namjoo slowly passed with hands tucked at her back.

The sun was all the way up when she stepped into the courtyard. Several guests were seated on the porches in front of their doors, chatting with each other. Friends pausing for rests or just men getting to know each other. Now that she thought about it, most travelers were men; hardly women.

Turning away from them Namjoo walked by. Lingering toward the west end guest house where Chanyeol had previously stayed. Was he in the same room this time? Or was he elsewhere?

All the doors to the west guest house was closed but one. Creeping by, Namjoo stretched her head forward to get a peek inside. Instead, quickly turning when a servant lady shuffled by shocking her. Pretending like she hadn’t been prying Namjoo continued on her way, failing to get a glance into the room.

By the time she figured she was safe she was already far past the guesthouse and nearing the bathhouse. Sighing, Namjoo pivoted to return to her room. Coming to a halt when she heard neighing.

Perked, Namjoo stared toward the trees beyond the shed. Listening to another neigh. Frowning, she slowly moved forward. Peeking into the forest. Glancing left toward the thicket then slid her eyes right to spot a man and just one horse. Her eyes landed on his back. Struggling to bring to mind who it was.

“I heard you.” He said.

Making a face Namjoo walked closer to Minseok and his stallion. Kicking her feet with every step. “Your hearing is so sharp.”

“I’m a trained soldier may I remind you,” he shot her a smug glance.

Namjoo glanced at Sun. Pausing a width away beside the second in command, “I heard there’s a riot. Why are you still here?”

“The kid wasn’t feeling well this morning, so we couldn’t go.”

“Kid?” Namjoo repeated, confused. She glanced around. Saw no other presence. Then her eyes landed on Sun whose long neck was drooped. Pointing to the horse, she frowned, “Kid?”

“He’s mine,” Minseok confirmed pulling a treat out of his pocket or maybe his shirt to feed the horse.

Namjoo scoffed flabbergasted. “Like this is your child.”

“Why can’t he be?” Minseok countered. He handed Sun another treat.

“What are you giving him? Medicine?” Namjoo stared at his robe. Trying to figure out exactly where he had tucked so many things and if it was really possible to have all those hidden pockets. Did her robe have them, too?

Another thin slice of what appeared like dried apple appeared in his hand. Minseok held it out, “This is called a chip. Do you want to give him one?”

“Ah…like a potato chip.”

He frowned at her unable to understand. “You really have a weird way about you.” Showing her the chip he said, “Give him one.”

“What?!” Namjoo shrank back. “No. He’s going to bite me.”

He laughed at her. “My child is as kind as I am. Here.”

“No.”

Minseok reached for her hand anyway and dropped the chip into her palm. “Just hand it to him.”

Namjoo clutched her hands together, nervous. Sun stepped aside, swaying his head and neighing. Begging for the treat.

“Just give it to him.” Minseok told.

Staring at the animal filled her with a sort of dread. Minseok sighed before taking her wrist and extended her arm. The horse slobbered over her fingers as it inhaled the chip. Yelping, Namjoo instinctively shook her hand in utter disgust while Minseok burst with laughter.

Exhaling a complaint, Namjoo instinctively hit his arm in retaliation. Inciting him to laugh harder.

“Here, give him another one.” Minseok handed her another piece.

“I’m not giving him another piece!” Namjoo refused. Swerving away when he tried to give it to her.

“Aw, come on,” he teased leaning over.

Namjoo took a half step forward when he bumped into her back, chin brushing past her shoulder to drop the chip into her hand. Her hands dodged but when the chip flew toward the ground, she caught it on reflex. Minseok boomed with over joyous laughter.

Pushing him away Namjoo lightly slapped his arm again. Perplexed that she had another chip in her hand again.

“Where do you get your strength from?” Minseok asked rubbing his shoulder, not his arm where she’d hit him, and then gestured his head toward the horse. “He’s waiting for you.”

Breathing a hiss Namjoo hesitantly held the chip out. Sun’s thick lips engorged her hand as he in the chip. She shrieked as Minseok laughed beside her. Turning she flailed her hands against his chest.

“Gross!” she cried out.

“Turns out our bathhouse girl is actually a lady,” Minseok commented amused pulling out a handkerchief from who knows where again.

His hands were actually far gentler than she expected when he took hers to wipe off the horse drool. The playful air she had walked into swiftly softened. Changing a bit intimately.

Caught off guard, Namjoo withdrew her hand. Somewhat uncomfortable. Darting her eyes away she muttered, “I…I have to go.”

She actually ran off.

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Chanyeol made the trip alone at early dawn, so he could return in the afternoon at latest. The riot was started by a merchant in the market in protest against the increase in rent fees. Encouraging neighboring market aunts and uncles to join in.

He’d led a squad of police officers and borrowed soldiers into the market square to quench them with a warning. Quietening the crowd before the trek to the bathhouse.

Yesterday he and Minseok had sped to Gangneung arriving in the late evening when everyone else was asleep, or so he had thought. Chanyeol had been surprised after venturing out to discover there was someone else awake.

Today he looked forward to it again.

Leaving his horse to the male employee to lead away he quickened his pace inside. Discovering only the female servants at their posts. Deciding he wouldn’t find who he was seeking here he went outside. His heart began speeding up a notch before he could even control himself.

Searching past the empty pond to the other guest house. Feeling like his body had a mind of its own as he started looking around. Voices became louder the farther he walked until he reached the bathhouse. Following the noise Chanyeol stepped toward the shed. Past that to where Minseok had previously tied up their horses.

Coming to a stop when he saw, before him, Namjoo and Minseok. Watching, what looked like, them playing with each other.

A corner of his heart strangely felt choked. Minseok’s laughter roared deafeningly.

This thing in his chest started expanding. Chanyeol’s fingers brushed against the material of his robe as his hand formed a fist.

He shouldn’t. This shouldn’t bother him. Minseok was never serious. But this unexplained tightness behind his ribs made him jealous for the first time. Unable to understand what was happening, Chanyeol turned around. Heading to his room with heavy feet.

That was where he stayed the rest of the afternoon, sulking.

Apparently, it wasn’t long until the door creaked open. A spike of irritation knifed through him. Sunlight caked inside his darkened space. Opening his eyes Chanyeol glanced at the doorway where a shadow stood.

“What the heck?” It was Minseok. “Why are you laying in the dark?”

“Nothing.” He muttered. Despite his control a hint of stewing anger pierced the word. Chanyeol abhorred himself. He shouldn’t be upset with Minseok. He shouldn’t be, but he was upset with Minseok.

Shutting his eyes Chanyeol in a breath. Recalling nothing but Minseok’s too happy laughter earlier.

“Just go.” Chanyeol said.

“Why? Did the riot not go well?” Minseok wondered.

“I handled it.” Chanyeol turned away from the friend in case he saw his distorted expression.

“All right then.” Minseok said. “I’ll let them know to bring you food.”

The sunlight disappeared trapping him inside his flooding emotions. Chanyeol knocked his head into the floor in hope of instilling some rationality. It didn’t quell the things inside his chest.

He only sat up when the door opened and he smelled food. Assuming it was the usual person bringing his meal, Chanyeol took a peek across the table.

“Who are you?” he asked sighting the unfamiliar woman.

“Excuse me?” she innocently asked confused.

Sighing annoyed, Chanyeol ordered, “The bathhouse girl. Get her.”

The unfamiliar girl’s eyes widened. She lowered her head, but didn’t move.

“Go,” he demanded gesturing his head toward the door.

“Yes…” she squeaked before shuffling out of his room.

He didn’t touch the food. Just sat there internally conflicted. Reimaging Minseok and Namjoo under the tree. Playing with each other. Had it been fun for her? Had she enjoyed that moment with him?

Chanyeol heaved a breath for the nth time. What was wrong with him? This…wasn’t like him at all.

He thought about the shoe he had impulsively packed in his bag. How ecstatic he had been thinking he was on this journey alone, and he could stay at the bathhouse for several days. Honestly looking forward to seeing the bathhouse girl again, because she had latched onto his mind like a bug.

No one would know what he was up to, because at the Jin estate he had to watch his every move. But…Minseok had tagged along.

Chanyeol’s eyes jot up when another shadow appeared in his doorway. Namjoo peeked into the room. Those big eyes of hers observantly drawing in his room.

“I heard you asked for me.” Namjoo started still at the doorway. “You need something?”

Chanyeol gestured for her to sit. Namjoo stared at the tray of food on the table. Noting that it was untouched.

Entering the room, she sat down across from him. Speaking first, “Why did you kick her out? Is the food not to your liking?”

Something indiscernible broiled inside his chest. Once more remembering her and Minseok by the trees.

Stoically questioning, “Why aren’t you doing your job?”

She frowned, “What?”

“Do you not remember what Madam Cho told you?” he spat.

Namjoo scoffed deeply offended by his tone. “Excuse me, I don’t think that applies to right now. If there’s nothing wrong with your food, I will take my leave.”

Chanyeol raised his voice, “Do you not recall that until I am gone, you’re mine.”