Shin Hye had explained at great length her dilemma.  Her doctor pursed his lips, made a temple of his clasped hands and began to nod.  Shin Hye looked at him expecting some great revelation into her problem.  He said as if he were talking sense, “Shin Hye, the problem here is that you are having regression dreams.  It is as simple as that – nothing more and nothing less.”

Shin Hye was dumbfounded.  Simple as that?  Nothing more and nothing less?  What the hell is wrong with this doctor? 

“Huh, Dr. Yeh, I don’t understand.  What do you mean regression dreams?  Please explain so I can understand.”

Dr. Yeh began to make notes.  He took a post-it note and wrote a name and address down.  “Shin Hye, this is a friend of mine and she does research in this very area.  It is a fascinating field and so little is known.  I will call her and ask her to see you.  She is an expert in this area and can help you recall and make sense of your dreams.  In my opinion, you are recalling events from a previous life.  Have you heard of reincarnation?  That my dear seems to be what is happening to you.”

She left his office and thought, he is an idiot.  Reincarnation?  Regression therapy?  Recalling a past life?  A quack is just what I need right now.  She did not throw the post-it note away; she carefully placed it in her handbag.  She needed time to think about what Dr. Yeh told her.  She needed to desperately think.

Min Ho disconnected the call from Professor Ki.  What?  Reincarnation? Past life?  Is everyone a blooming fool now?  But he didn’t say no to the request to allow his friend permission for the so-called ‘expert’ on past life to read his dream.  He didn’t know why he didn’t say no.  Perhaps, he thought, I am desperately clutching at straws.

Shin Hye slowly warmed up to Min Ho.  They had interviews and photo shoots scheduled.  She had to make an effort to be friendly – to speak to him.  She had to make an effort to not drown in his eyes every time he looked at her.  She was scheduled for a shoot on the balcony today.  He would be below, looking up at her.  She didn’t want to hold her breath hoping she would be able to finish the shoot because she might die from lack of oxygen.  She was that troubled.

He was below her looking up as the director said, “action”.  Min Ho followed the script.  He was supposed to look as if the woman he wanted to ask to marry was waiting for him.  He would look up and see her.  He looked up and he saw a different landscape and a different sky – everything was different – except the woman.  She was dressed differently.  She was standing on the hillock above him and she was crying silently.  She was watching his approach and she was crying.  He didn’t want her to cry.  She didn’t cry often for she was a strong woman but she had been given a sentence akin to death for her.  So she had reason to vent her sorrow in cries.

He shook his head to clear his sight.  He must be delusional or perhaps he really was losing his mind.  He knew he would call his friend, Professor Ki, when he had a break.  He needed to talk to Professor Ki’s friend about this regression therapy.  He needed his mind free from all this craziness.

He dreamt that night.  A long horrid dream of misery, desire and heartbreak; he was so heartbroken he cried in his sleep.  He thrashed as if drowning.  He screamed out in his sleep, so miserable at the horror of his memory he wished to disappear into nothingness.  He woke with a start and grabbed the tablet he left on the table the night before – he began to write while it was fresh in his mind.   

Min Ho’s dream:

The man in him ached to hold her.  She was his woman although he could never claim her.  She was the one he wanted in his bed at night, the one he wanted at his table and the one he wanted to rock the cradles of his children.  He wanted all this but it could not happen for he was Samurai of Japan and she was the Princess Jeongseon of the Royal court of King Sejong.  Her father King Taejong had passed away.  His son Sejong was now King.  She was the daughter of a King, the sister of the sitting King and she was off-limits to him.  He thought his heart would shrivel and die when he looked upon such perfection and knew it was not for him.  He did not know how he would continue to breathe – how could he get up each morning knowing where she would be?  How could he let this happen?

She had come to him that night.  There was a small hut he occupied all these months.  It turned out to be a safe place to spend time together.  He remembered the first time he approached her.  She was hiding in a row of hedges close to the Mimosa tree.  She saw his approach and tried to become smaller than she already was – she cowered down praying he would not see her.  He read the situation in one glance.  He stopped by the hedge she was behind, cleared his throat saying as casually as possible, “I know you are there but you have nothing to fear from me.  Do I need to fear you?  I cannot tell because you hide so well everyday when you visit this small hillock.  Please young miss, do not fear me.”

Suddenly she was in front of him, indigently facing him as if she were a brave soldier on a battlefield.  “I beg your pardon, but who are you calling a young miss?  I will have you know I am 19 years-old.  I am not young.  Humph.”

He looked at the face before him trying to memorize it.  The cleft chin, the dimples, the imperfection of her nose that was not imperfect, the glossy hair and the body any man would notice.  She held no fear at that moment and he was amused.  He chuckled then laughed out loud.

She looked at him catching her breath.  How did she have the nerve to jump out like that; to say those things?  He might slay her and no one would know.  She started to slowly back away, hoping she would get the jump on him and escape.  He could tell what she was thinking.  He told her not do something as foolish as trying to run away and make the palace guards notice them.  He asked her to sit under the Mimosa tree and talk with him.

She never understood why she complied.  He never understood why she did as he wished either.  But he felt the pull and he felt the tightening of his body.  He was reacting to her but she was not the type of woman one could bed and forget.  She was not that type of woman.  He was perplexed at what he was doing and why.  He felt something for her but he was so new at this sort of thing that he could only place it in terms of ual gratification.  She was a very beautiful y woman so that is what it had to be – there could be no other emotions in his world.

But still he continued to talk to her and see her each day.  He felt his heart lighten at the sight of her.  They had to be especially careful because of her position in the court.  He had assumed at first she was employed in some capacity within the palace until he got a good look at the quality of her clothing.  He knew then she was more than someone who worked at the palace.  He simply asked her what she did in the court.  He asked her who she was and why she came to the Mimosa tree every day.   He was startled to learn she was the Princess.  He learned she came each day to the Mimosa tree because she felt a connection to the tree.  It might be smaller than some trees but it stood firm in storms surviving alone while braving the tempest of each day.  She felt a kinship.  He thought she contained the soul of a poet.

She told him her Father had negotiated a marriage between her and one of the Mongol princes before he passed away.  She had just found out her brother, King Sejong, intended to keep his Father’s promise to the Mongol leader.  She knew little of him other than he was 10 years her senior and had no wives.  She would be his first wife because he wanted children and his family wanted a connection to the royal house of Korea.  She was afraid.  She shyly told him she had always dreamed she would fall in love with the man who wished to marry her.  She told him she knew it was wishful to think that would happen – especially when kings only thought of cementing their hold with other royal houses.  She felt like a fool she told him.  She cried then but it was tears for what she would miss in life – love, security in a man’s love and children borne of love.  He reached out and used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her face that day and he knew then what the feeling in his heart was – he realized he was in love with the small wisp of a woman in front of him.

They met like that for several months.  As the days approached fall there was a slight nip in the air at night and more so in the early mornings.  He had met with his spies and he knew all he needed to know.  But he was reluctant to leave.  He wanted this time with this woman.  He needed her as much as he needed the air he breathed.  He would have trouble walking away from her and he did not anticipate the time he would have to leave.

He told her secrets that he never told before and would never again.  He talked of his Mother, of war and of peace.  He told her his dreams for his people.  He told her his nickname simply because he felt like telling her everything about himself – everything.  They had become close – seemingly as if they were one soul in two bodies.    

He had not intended to touch her in that way.  He only intended to keep her with him as a companion each evening.  She had been extremely careful; they did not talk above a whisper when outside nor did they allow themselves to ever be silhouetted against the sky.  The King’s guards and soldiers were vigilant so they must be more so – they had to be very careful.  He did not worry for himself but he feared for her safety.  It was a slippery, treacherous slope they were treading on and if they were not careful they would lose their foothold and bring it down on themselves.

She began to visit his hut.  She would slip away from the palace for no one kept tabs on her, especially since her Mother and Father had passed away.  She was one of many princesses within her brother’s kingdom but she was the daughter of a Queen not the daughter of a concubine.  Still she was but fodder for treaties and political deals.  She was not close to any of her siblings.  She had once been close to her half-brother, the new King but once he married and once his official duties began he had no time for her.  She would be out of his sight soon, little more than a memory on the palace’s past.

They were at his hut and he was building a fire in the fireplace for there was a definite chill in the air.  She had cheered up under his coaxing her to smile.  She had a right to be sad he knew.  He felt a new feeling when he thought of some other man touching her – he had never felt jealousy before and it was a hard fist in his gut feel.  He could not imagine some other man taking her clothes off and seeing her body.  He did not like the thoughts of it.  He could not even think about the sort of touching the man who married her would do – he just couldn’t think of it.  She was sitting on the hearth close to him but not touching him.  She was sleepy for she kept yawning.  She would not be able to return to the palace until daylight for movement during these night hours would draw unwanted attention.  He was not sure how he would be able to not touch her during this long night.  She was sliding sideways; her eyelids drooped close as she slipped into sleep.  He moved then letting her head rest on his shoulder.  Her head nestled beneath his jawline and he clinched his jaw as the light smell of flowers and sunshine hit him.  He realized he wanted her.  She was asleep so he carefully put one arm under her knees and the other around her back lifting her up to his chest.  He stood that way for several minutes gazing at the sleeping woman in his arms.  He had an overwhelming urge to kiss her.  He walked to his bed and carefully laid her down, pulling a coverlet over her to protect her from the slight damp in the air.  She turned and murmured against his chest, throwing her arm around his neck holding on tightly.  He had no idea what to do.  It was not a simple situation.  She was who she was and he would have to be careful to not overstep his boundaries.  She moved against him and put her arm around his waist pulling him down toward her.

He was immobilized, unable to move away.  His face was no more than an inch away from hers and if she moved at all their lips would meet.  He was holding his breath afraid to breathe.  She murmured again and shifted her position slightly.  She turned moving her hands to the front of his tunic and fisted her hands into the material.  He looked down at her small hands and thought of her doing this with some Mongol – the thought was unbearable.  He let his breath out and tried to move her hands.  She shifted again and opened her eyes.  Their eyes met and held.  She looked down at her hands fisted in his tunic and blushed.  She moved her hands and started to apologize, to move away but for some odd and inexplicable reason she moved slightly forward and their lips met.  The touch was electrifying and he could resist no longer.  His lips closed over hers and he her lips with his tongue.  She moved hers lips slightly allowing him entrance.  She could not say no, she realized she wanted this as much as he did.  She didn’t care that she was an unmarried woman promised to another man.  She was not in love with that other man but she was in love with this one.

He put his arms around her pulling her close, holding her tightly.  She responded by putting her arms around his neck.  She buried her hand in his black silky hair.  He had glorious hair.  She wanted to bury both hands in his hair so she did.  He responded by deepening the kiss.  She felt her bones melt in her body.  She felt her body become loose and pliable in his hands.  He was her arm before he put his arms around her again and began a slow tantalizing trail of his fingers up and down her spine.  She was literally tingling all over.  She knew there was no turning back at this point.  He was slowly undressing her and she felt like a woman as she had never felt before – she was moving with each of his hand.  He looked down at the body beneath him and he knew he did not want to let her go – ever. 

She ran her hands over his chest and shoulders feeling the ripples of strength.  The man was magnificent.  He gave her a very soft kiss that turned her body into water.  She trembled at the tenderness – she opened her heart to him at that moment – he knew the moment she gave in and his heart was no longer his – she held it and would for every day he drew a breath for the rest of his life.

Time stopped for her – she was floating on a cloud of sensations – all so new to her – precious to them both.  When he slowly fit into her, he heard her breath stop.  The firelight flickered in the background and gave her body a golden glow.  He was slow and patient because he wanted her to enjoy her first time.  He could feel her heart hammering against his chest with each of his body.  She suddenly held onto him tightly and he knew.  As they slowly descended together his hold tightened.  He kissed her so lightly she felt as if a butterfly landed briefly onto her lips.  She nuzzled his neck murmuring words against his skin.  He could not hear them but he felt the small puffs of her breath.  He might not have heard the words but the effect on his heart was the same.  He plunged even further into the world of the unknown – he plunged into her love so deeply his soul would forever know her soul when they met – be it 10 minutes or 10 thousand years – he would forever know his woman.

She slipped back into her room at the palace with little notice.  No one cared if the young princess came or went.  She was a bit eccentric if one listened to the servants.  He had cultivated a ‘friendship’ here and there.  His leather armor and mempo were well hidden outside the hut.  He was dressed as a soldier of medium rank to blend in leaving little reason to investigate or question him.  He moved about freely during the day.  He had learned much about the reign of King Sejong.  He was more a scholar than a King.  He was cautious and did not trust easily.  There was much talk of Princess Jeongseon betrothment to one of the minor princes of the Dayan Khanid aristocracy – it did not bode well for her.  He felt his anger burning just beneath the surface of his skin; he did not want her to be relegated to the wilds of Northern Mongolia – she would wither and die in the God forsaken landscape.  He would wither and die knowing she was there and how they treated their women especially women from Korea and Japan.  He would not bear this lightly.

He had a visitor to the hut.  An emissary had slipped into the city of Seoul searching him out.  He would have to return to Kyoto to deal with a problem that might become a crisis if not handled correctly.  He needed to find the Princess; he needed to tell her he would be gone no longer than a month’s time.  He would return and he would find a way to take her back to the Flower Palace.  He would find a way – he must find a way. 

She was waiting for him when he returned to the hut.  He stopped just outside the door for she was combing her hair – he wanted to remember this scene – to keep him focused while he was gone.  He made a small noise and she looked up, smiling her brilliant dimpled smile for him.  She quickly twisted her hair and secured it with a pin.  He moved to her, bending to give her a light kiss.  It was now the beginning of the fall season and soon the temperatures would drop and winter would approach.

“Princess, I must return to Kyoto for matters of government but I will return within one month’s time.”

She changed from her light hearted smile to one of sorrow.  “My Dragon, are you sure you will return in that time?  I will most definitely miss you.  Should I come to tend to your hut while you are away?”

“Princess, you may use my hut if you wish while I am away but do not waste your precious time on the tending of this hut.  I will make arrangements to have this hut tended while you are at the palace.  Do not let anyone see you here for you might be in danger if your activities become known.”

“My Dragon, as always, you are correct.  I will only come at night.  Do not worry about me for I will eagerly count the days till you return.”

“Princess, if you had a chance to leave Korea would you take it?  Would you dare defy your brother, The King, to live a simple life far from the threat of a Mongolian husband?”

“My Dragon, I would go now if such a chance appeared before my eyes.  I would go and never look back.  Do you have a way I can disappear without my brother finding out?”

“Princess I will work on a plan while I settle the issues at home.  I will take you with me when I return and you will not have to go to Mongolia.  I promise you on my word as Shogun Yoshimochi.  I give you my word Princess.”

The Princess could ask for nothing more than his word; of all the people alive she would trust her Dragon first and last.  She would go with him no matter how difficult the living – she would learn for him and for their love.

Her Dragon had left in the 11^th month of the year 1423.  It was now cold everyday and she knew the winter weather would delay his return.  The scribes were busily entering historical facts.  They wrote, ‘It is the year 1423 and this is the worse winter Seoul has experienced in 20 years.  The winter is the most cold of recent history and the snow is deep.  The storehouses of grains may not last through the end of the year.  King Sejong has issued a decree to limit grain extractions from a daily to a bi-weekly event in order to not leave Seoul in need by year’s end.’ 

He had been delayed twice since returning to Kyoto.  He had been gone for two months and then some.  Today was day 26 of the 1^st month of the year 1424.  He would be able to leave before the end of the month.  He had promised and he had been away from her too long.  He had a plan to bring her back with him; for the first time in his 38 years he was excited.  He loved and was loved. 

He had put a series of events in place so that he could bring her away from Seoul, from King Sejong’s palace, from the Yi Dynasty.  He had ended his reign as supreme Shogun at the end of the 12^th month of the year 1423.  He had set in motion the one detail that must be in place before he could return with her.  He placed Ashikaga Yoshikazu as the new Shogun with his reign to begin the 1^st month of the year 1424.

An emissary’s note from his spies at the palace of King Sejong had been delivered by pigeon.  His subordinate was bringing the note to him.  Yoshimochi hoped the Yongle Emperor had not changed his plans.  If the Yongle Emperor’s plans changed then Japan’s plans must change. He opened the note and scanned it quickly.  Those in the room heard his sharp intake of breath, they saw his sudden pallor of skin, they saw his fists clench and heard him swear.  Something never seen before or since happened then – a single tear fell from the eye of Ashikaga Yoshimochi, 4^th shogun of the Ashikaga Bakufu of the Ashikaga Shogunate – a single tear fell from the eye of The Dragon – the fiercest Shogun in the history of fierce men.  Someone would pay dearly for that tear.

Taking pen and ink he quickly scribed a return question handing it to his subordinate to send immediately.  An answer should return by the beginning of day 27 in the 1^st month in the year 1424.  He restlessly awaited the answer, pacing relentlessly.  He was numb and would remain so until he had his answer.

Early on day 27 of the 1^st month of the year 1424 an answering pigeon landed gracefully on a roost.  He quickly retrieved the note and sat down to read.  The paper fell from his hands onto the cold stone of the pigeon house.  He remained that way for most of the morning.  He could not move nor could he express any sign of emotion.  The words scribed on the note replaying over and over in his mind. 

‘Princess Jeongseon was captured by King Sejong’s edict early on day 24 of the 1^st month in the year 1424.  She was labeled a traitor for breaking a treaty with Dayan Khanid aristocracy of the Mongols in Northern Mongolia.  Great shame has been brought upon the Yi Dynasty by the Princess Jeongseon.  The princess was an unwed maiden but was with child when the emissary of the Dayan Khanid came to the Princess to Mongolia.  She was quickly imprisoned and executed as dawn broke on day 25 of the 1^st month of the year 1424.’

The Dragon readied a travel packet and left.  He would not be needed for his position was already Ashikaga Yoshikazu’s.  He had something to do and he could not give a time for it to be accomplished.  He returned to the small hut within a stone’s throw of the Mimosa Tree on the hillock overlooking the lonely back wall of King Sejong’s Palace in the capital of Seoul on the Korean peninsula.  He stood under the Mimosa Tree the night he returned and allowed the tears to fall.  His shoulders shook with the frustration of helplessness.  An emotion he had never felt before – he finally said the words that festered on his tongue since he received the answer to his question.

“My love, my Princess, my beautiful, beautiful Princess – I love you and miss you.  My wonderful Princess, you were carrying my child and I could not save you.  I am indeed a worthless man but I promised I would return and I have returned for you.  And take you with me I shall.”

The Dragon slipped through the door set in the wall at the back of the palace; the door he witnessed his one true love enter and exit more times than he could recall.  He found the servant he was looking for and questioned her.  She answered with no thoughts of wrong or right.  The man in front of her was one of the King’s soldiers, right?

He had a list of names involved in the Princess’s death.  He located each and every name on the list.  He silently slipped up on each man and one woman, grabbing their foreheads securely from behind and with one silent, swift, deadly of his sword he dispatched each to another dimension for eternity.  He cursed each as he watched their life force leave their worthless bodies.  He could not get to King Sejong but he could repay him with the lives of a few of his favorite family members.  Three deaths by mysterious causes befell the favorite grown children of King Sejong and upon King Sejong’s most prized concubine.  Poison works quickly and leaves no trace in this year of 1425.

The Dragon located the small vase that held the ashes of his woman and child.  He picked the vase up with reverence and carefully placed it inside his leather travel pouch.  Looking heavenward he made a request, “This pouch contains my love and my child.  I beseech you to answer my prayers and allow me safe journey back to my home so I may show my woman and my child the honor they deserve as I place them where I shall be laid to final rest.”

On the 20^th day of the 3^rd month of the year 1425, The Dragon laid to rest with great regret and sorrow his only love and his only child. 

On the 12th day of the 4^th month in the year 1425, the 5^th Shogun Ashikaga Yoshikazu’s death was announced and Ashikaga Yoshimochi the 4^th Shogun was required to return to his duties as Shogun.  He led a solitary lonely life.  He was a haunted man.

The Dragon grieved daily and his heart broke each day.  He planted Mimosa trees throughout Kyoto especially on the grounds of the Flower Palace. 

On the 25^th day of the 1^st month in the year 1428, Ashikaga Yoshimochi, 4th shogun of the Ashikaga Bakufu of the Ashikaga Shogunate, passed away during his sleep.  He was neither sick nor diseased; the royal physicians could not give a cause for his death.  If the Heavens could have answered it would have been that The Dragon passed away from a broken heart.

Min Ho finished writing.  He had pages of neatly written script stacked before him.  He did not need to read it because he knew at that moment he had lived it once before and he felt the pain in his heart. 

Min Ho called Professor Ki and asked him to set-up an appointment with his past regression therapy friend.  He had to have answers, he needed peace.  He looked at a photo still from Etude House showcasing Shin Hye and himself.   He asked the picture, “What do I need to do to put an end to this torture?  I don’t think you and I can just be friends.  I know now who you are and who I am but I don’t know what to do about it or how.  I don’t know that you and I can ever just be friends – how do I turn my back on the woman I have loved for 500 years?”