"I Will Find You"

A Scarlet Heart: Ryeo Fanfic

watch?v=3MxmpL_lj3Y

As he sits up in bed, he's feeling restless and groggy. He hasn't had a good night's sleep in months, and today he wakes to find tears in his eyes. He doesn't understand what keeps plaguing him so. He used to think these visions he's been having every night were dreams, but now they feel different... they're more than just dreams - they feel like... memories.

He shakes his head and rubs his eyes. How can they be memories? In his 30 years, he has never even met her - this woman whose body, whose voice, whose face he sees ever so clearly in his sleep, who slips away in his waking hours. Even now he is having trouble remembering her exact features... only one thing remains: her eyes.

She had very big, very bright eyes.

He gives up trying to remember and sighs. There was no point brooding over a dream. He glances at the clock by his bed and sees that it is almost midday. He'd overslept again.

He pours himself a glass of water and gets up, heading for the bathroom. He was supposed to meet that historian again today at the store. Last night, he had fully intended to wake up earlier to be there for the launching of their new product line, but his dreams had other plans.

As he's heading out, he pauses by his notebook and flips it open, immediately finding the page he wanted. He had been storing little bits and pieces of her face into his memory, focusing on them every time he awoke so that he could write them down.

1. long, straight black hair

2. full, pink lips curled up in a smile

3. white, porcelain skin

4. small, soft, dainty hands

5. a small, round face

6. a small nose

This time, he had something new to add:

7. big, bright eyes

He wondered if it was enough? He wasn't much of an artist, but his best bud was. He reaches into his pocket as he closes the door to his flat and texts, "Hey, I remember something else - she had big brown eyes."

A reply comes as he's starting his car, "How big?"

"Big. Like enough to fill half her face."

"Hyung."

"I don't know, alright? Just... big. Tell me when you've finished."

"No, c'mon, I need more than that."

"I can't remember any more! That's the whole point."

"Alright, alright. Are you free later tonight?"

"Sure. Text me the time and place."

He drops his phone onto the empty seat beside him, revs up the engine and drives off. He hopes his bud would be able to draw her better now that he had a description of her eyes... he wanted so badly to remember her. He wanted to see her. He couldn't understand why he felt it was so important when they'd never even met before. He just knew that it felt right. For the longest time, he's lived in frustration, constantly feeling like something important was missing from his life – like a piece of himself had forcefully torn itself off and gotten lost somewhere, just waiting to be found. He felt that if he could just see her face again... even in a drawing... everything would be alright. All the answers would fall into place.

He pulls into the parking lot and gets out. There were quite a lot of people in the lobby, most of them women sampling the products. He puts on his most charming smile and proceeds to greet them, keeping an eye out for the historian, wondering if the man had left already.

"There are too many people here," a low voice suddenly whispers into his ear, making him jump in fright. "I need to go to the bathroom. I'll see you by the paintings in 5 minutes."

He whips around in frustration to see the historian walking off in the opposite direction. He has half a mind to follow him, partly to tell him he was going the wrong way, but mainly because the historian had a knack for creeping up on him, and he was finding it increasingly annoying. But he decides against it. There's no point causing a scene. Instead, he takes a deep breath to rein in his temper and makes his way towards the small room adjacent, where the newly discovered paintings from the Goryeo era were being kept on display for the public.

His eyes immediately land on the large painting of the Fourth King, Gwangjong, and his lips purse in amusement, remembering how his friends and family had teased him about the resemblance between him and the old man. He turns away and is about to check his phone when something else catches his attention...

Hajin wipes her eyes and gets up, blinking rapidly to contain her tears. The pain in her chest was still so fresh, so palpable. She didn't know how it was possible... but it had to be true. What she had thought all along were dreams had in fact been memories. Memories of her life in Goryeo... over a millennia ago.

She was there. She was there for a good seven years. And she fell in love with the 4th King, Gwangjong... or as she knew him then, Wang So.

Just the thought of his name was enough to send a fresh wave of grief crashing over her, so that she suddenly found it hard to breathe. She closes her eyes and bumps her chest with her fist, trying to get a grip on her emotions, remembering the many people nearby who would think her crazy for crying over a thousand-year-old dead man if they saw her.

She has to get home. She has to know what happened to them... So, Baek Ah, Jung, and even Wook... and especially her baby girl. Did she grow up strong and beautiful? Was she able to live the free life she had wanted so badly for her? Did she ever get married? Did she ever meet her real father?

She has to know. She would scour every book in the country if she has to.

She takes a deep breath and turns around resolutely, wanting to get out as quickly as possible, but before she can take even a single step forward, she bumps headlong into someone and stumbles backward.

"Ouch!" she yelps in surprise, clutching at her forehead.

"Are you alright? I'm sorry-"

She shakes her head and straightens up. "No, it's okay, it was my fault. I should have..." she trails off as she looks into his face. It was as though the world had stopped turning, and her heart had stopped beating.

She couldn't believe it. It was him.

"I'm sorry, are you hurt?" he asks, reaching out to her in concern, but she grabs him first, feeling breathless with disbelief.

Her eyes rake in the sight of him. He was different from the Prince she had fallen in love with - his hair was cut short, he was wearing a suit rather than traditional clothing, and he didn't have a scar on his face. But he was just as tall, just as lean and just as handsome as she remembered. His jaw was the same, his long, straight nose was the same, his high cheekbones were the same, his lips were the same... and his eyes. Those sharp eyes that always used to smile whenever they saw her - they were the same, too.

And right now, they were wide with shock.

She realizes how she must look like to him and immediately lets go. She opens her mouth to say something - anything - but nothing seems to work.

It's him. He's here. He's found her.

He clears his throat and tries again. "Are you alright, miss? I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her eyes never leaving his face. "I'm not... I'm fine, I... do we..." she licks her lips, feeling her chest tighten painfully at the way he was looking at her - like she was a stranger; like they had never met before.

But he found her. They had met again just as she managed to remember everything. Surely, surely that must mean something?

"Do we... know each other?" she asks, feeling slightly breathless. Despite all the confusion, fear and hurt in her breast, her heart was hopeful. There had to be a reason... he must be here for a reason...

He looks at her funny and shakes his head. "I don't think so."

She quells the panic rising inside her and tries again. "Are you sure? Think harder... do you think... do you remember ever seeing me before?"

Again, he shakes his head, looking more confused than ever. "I saw you crying and was going to ask if you were okay. Would you like a glass of water?"

"It wouldn't have been recent," she cries desperately. "It may have been... a very long time ago."

He runs a hand uncomfortably through his hair, looking like he was sorry for even attempting to talk to her. The look on his face cut her like a knife. He doesn't know her. He came over out of concern. Maybe he thinks she's crazy... maybe she is.

This is my punishment, she thinks, for leaving him the way I did. This is fate's way of toying with me for ruining all those peoples' lives... for thinking I could make everything better.

She didn't know she was crying again until she could no longer breathe. She looks down just as he turns around and walks away. The pain in her chest was strong enough to make her pass out, but she didn't dare call out to him again. She couldn't bear to have him look at her like a stranger.

She takes a deep breath and takes one more look at the painting of Gwangjong. She commits his face to memory, to make sure her mind remembers what her heart had never forgotten. This will be her punishment; she will carry this burden alone for the rest of her life. Her lips quiver and there's a painful lump in her throat as she says in a voice barely above a whisper, "Goodbye... So."

He stops dead in his tracks, images suddenly flitting through his mind - a beautiful lake, a lone boat on its waters, a walkway lined with trees, fireflies on the grass, blossoms and leaves falling through the air... and beneath it, a vision in white, standing serenely by the lake, staring out into the water.

He's frozen on the spot. His mind is overwhelmed by the sudden surge of images and memories that he knows deep down are his, though he cannot understand where they came from.

"I trust you."

"You're leaving without seeing me?"

"I guess you have really forgotten about me."

"Have you been sleeping well? Eating well?"

"Do you still... resent me?"

It was that voice. Her voice. The woman from his dreams.

He whips around in shock to stare at the portrait of the late King Gwangjong. Even more memories race through his mind - a throne room full of people, and yet empty of life; faces of both the living and the dead; a lotus hairpin, a smiling face, a soft touch of a hand on his...

"I will never leave you."

There it was again. Her voice. He glances at his shoulder, feeling like she was just there; he could still feel her weight leaning on him, the comforting smell of roses on her skin filling his senses.

"Hae Soo," the name comes unbidden from his lips.

He rubs his forehead, trying to think. He turns around in search of her - but she's gone. He's alone in the room, and suddenly, he's in a panic. Where is she? Where did she go?

His eyes fall on a painting on the opposite wall.

Rain, falling on his face. People calling out his name in supplication. A small hand lightly caressing a scar on his face.

He reaches up instinctively but feels nothing there. There is no scar. Not now. But there had been once, a very long time ago...

"Hae Soo," he whispers the name again and suddenly, his mind clears. "My... Soo..."

She was here. She was here and she remembered him! He turns and bolts through the open doors to the next room, almost bulldozing into the historian.

"Sorry I took so long, you wouldn't believe how many-"

"Where did she go?" he demands, ignoring the apology and scanning the crowd for her familiar face. "Did you see her? There was a girl here."

"Girl? What girl?"

"Jimong!" he says the name almost unconsciously and stops, feeling dizzy. He must be going crazy. People were starting to stare at him.

He runs his hand through his hair in an effort to compose himself, but his heart was still beating wildly around in his chest. He has to find her. He can't explain what had just happened, but he doesn't even care. It wasn't important right now. What's important was getting to her. Where did she go? Where was she going?

My Hae Soo. I have found you at last.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," he says curtly, brushing past the old historian.

"Do you finally remember, 4th Prince?" the voice that spoke was so low, So wasn't sure he'd heard it.

He turns around in surprise, wondering if the man was making fun of him again, but he was looking dead serious.

"I have been waiting for you. Welcome back." Jimong smiles a knowing smile.

"What..." So says, glancing around at the people and the objects around him. It all suddenly seemed so bizarre - so familiar and yet so foreign. "Are you really Jimong?"

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions to ask, but she is getting away," Jimong nods. "I'll be here when you get back."

Suddenly remembering her, So is struck anew with panic. Where is she? Where did she go?

"I'll be back," he says curtly, rushing out of the building onto the busy streets. "Soo-yah!" he calls desperately over the heads of the crowd passing him. He turns this way and that in an effort to see her, but there were too many people. She could have gone anywhere. She could be anywhere by now.

He chokes back his frustration and chooses a direction. He starts running, scanning each face as he passes them, looking for a small girl with long hair.

"Soo... Hae Soo..." he says, going further and further up the road, calling her name. But there was no sign of her. He steps into a secluded side street to think. There were too many people... and she was none of them. Had he gone the wrong way? Did she go the opposite direction? Did she take a taxi? Does she drive a car? Maybe he could use technology to his advantage... print an add with her face and post it all around. He remembers her now. He can ask his best bud...

He halts and finds himself laughing incredulously. His best bud, who happened to be his half-brother in another life. Nothing in life is a coincidence.

He reaches for his phone and sends him a text message, "Yah, I found her."

Baek Ah responds immediately, "YOU DID WHAT?"

"I need your help."

"Of course. Let's meet. Come pick me up."

"I'll be there in 15."

He stuffs his phone back into his pocket and heads back towards the exhibit, feeling let down but considerably better than he has in - he can't even remember.

He takes a deep breath and starts to think. That Jimong... he's kept a lot of things from me.

He's busy thinking of ways to torture the old man when he sees her again. There she is, walking slowly, dejectedly towards him, her head bent and looking like a lost puppy. He stops and smiles at her, taking in every detail of her face. She's looking incredibly strange in her outfit, with her hair down and wavy like that, but everything else was exactly as he remembered. How could he have ever forgotten her, even for a minute?

He watches in amusement as she continues to walk, so obviously distracted that people have started to make way for her. She was only a few feet away now... five feet... four feet... three feet... two feet...

"Oh! I'm sorry," she gasps, walking headlong into his chest for the second time that day - literally the third time in history.

He grabs her arm to steady her, and suddenly, it was like no one else and nothing else mattered except the two of them. He cared for nothing save for the fact that she was here with him now, alive and whole, and he was never - ever going to let her go again.

He would love her right, the way he should have from the start. Now, there was nothing standing in their way. No throne, no family conflicts, no more secrets.

Now, he could love her to his heart's content.

"Soo-yah."