There are Many Flowers in Seoul

Chapter Thirty-Nine

For a while, the only sound beneath the table was that of Tae-won's heartbeat. The storm continued to rage but Rose tried to block it out. Knowing that she wasn't alone – that Tae-won was there with her while she was afraid – was what she wanted to focus on. He was the last person in the world she'd have chosen as a protector but, surprisingly, he seemed to be doing a better job than anyone else had before. Tae-won had built her a shelter and hadn't shouted or mocked her for being afraid. He'd even stopped calling her Japan which was nothing short of a miracle. If he'd behaved in such a way when they'd first met, she might have been in real danger of falling in love with him.

True, she didn't know if Si-woo was desperately looking for her, or Yuta. With her phone in a state of disrepair, no electricity to turn on a computer to search for the address or telephone number of the apartment building, and no way to travel through the streets without putting her life at risk, all she could do was wait out the night with Tae-won by her side.

Strangely, it didn't seem such a terrible fate in that moment.

His hand was on her back now, and the other had found her fingers where they rested against his chest. The electricity still flowed between them whenever they touched, but it felt warm and comforting, as if they were meant to be connected somehow to calm their hearts. It was a feeling Rose had never felt before, not even with Keiji, and certainly not with Si-woo. Even Yuta hadn't been able to settle her in such a way; he sent her heart into a panicked frenzy rather than ascending it to a state of blissful peace.

'My mother...' Tae-won began, pausing after the word and clearing his throat softly. 'Ah, my mother. She was Japanese. My father was Korean, and he met her while he was working there. He was a director and she was an assistant. Their relationship was a secret because he was married to someone else.'

'What?' Rose asked, sitting up. 'You're a love child?'

'Yeah.'

There was a solemnity about his expression that Rose hadn't expected to see. Affairs and single mothers weren't uncommon in the world, but she supposed there might still be a stigma attached to such things, and if he was a celebrity it wasn't the kind of story you'd want splashed across all the newspapers for anyone to see.

'I didn't mean to interrupt,' she said, brushing her thumb against his chest.

Tae-won reached up to stroke her cheek. 'It's fine. It must have been surprising to hear.'

'Did you stay in Japan for long?' Rose asked.

'I went with my mother while she worked. She said I was a good baby, and cute, so everyone liked me.'

'Ah, so you were popular even then?'

'Very popular,' he smiled. 'And handsome enough to be in adverts. Then, I was cast as babies and children in television dramas.'

'Then... your entire career was because of where your mother worked?'

'Yeah. We moved back to Korea when I got a job here, and we never left. She still worked hard even though I earned a lot of money because she wanted to set a good example. I always came home to a cooked meal, even if I returned late at night. And she would send me to work with a lunch and a note telling me to work hard.'

'Every day?'

'Wait here a moment,' Tae-won said. 'Don't get scared.'

Rose didn't find it easy to sit upright beneath the table, and so dropped down to lie on her side while Tae-won was gone. His mother had been right about forts; she didn't feel nearly so frightened when inside it as she had out in the open living room. It was a shame that she wasn't there with them. The woman sounded like someone Rose would have gotten along well with, and she wondered if she'd be able to meet her before she left Korea so that they could laugh together at all the stupid things Tae-won had done since they'd met.

Tae-won's footfalls approached, and he slipped back beneath the table with a shoebox in his hand. Setting it down between them, he lifted the lid to reveal a pile of papers, all of them white and folded in half with short notes written on them. Had they been in Korean, Rose wouldn't have been able to decipher them, but Tae-won's mother had written them all in Japanese.

Do your best!

Have fun!

I love you!

Don't stay out too late.

I heard this is good for your health, so eat a lot.

Happy birthday, my precious child.

'You kept them all?'

'Ever since we moved here.'

'There are so many,' Rose said. She laughed softly when she looked at one with a monster doodled in the corner. 'Is this supposed to be you in a bad mood?'

Tae-won snatched the note back and pouted down at the drawing. 'I was overtired.'

'It looks just like you.'

'Aish. Enough, okay?'

'Why aren't there more?' Rose asked. 'If she's been writing them so long... Did she stop?' Tae-won's silence scared her more than the storm. Worried, Rose reached out and placed her hand over his. 'Tae-won, is your mother still in Korea?'

'My mother got sick but... but she was getting better. I paid for the hospital and her medicine. We were supposed to celebrate together, and she waited for me to arrive to meet her, but I got stuck at work. I told her to go home ahead of me, but she still waited. It was raining and cold, and when I got home that night, she wasn't there.'

Rose's gaze darted down to Tae-won's trembling fingers. Her heart was breaking for him – the sorrow in his eyes and the cracking of his voice were too much to bear. This wasn't the Tae-won she knew, it was the Tae-won from the photograph taken with his mother, the woman he'd adored and who'd worked so hard to build a home and life for him.

This was a boy whose mother was no longer in this world.

'The hospital said she collapsed in the street, in the rain, and that it was already too late when the ambulance arrived.' Tears brimmed in his eyes, and Tae-won took a shuddering breath. 'That's why – that's why, seeing you in the rain like that, I couldn't just –'

Rose threw her arms around Tae-won's neck and hugged him tightly if only to conceal the fact that she, too, was moved to tears by his story. His strong arms encircled her and the shoebox of notes toppled to the floor, spilling the heartfelt sentiments freely. Together, the pair fought to regain their composure, embracing and commiserating in their tiny haven, hidden from the world of celebrity and idolisation that wasn't interested in their pain or the people who existed, wounded and hurt, beneath their polished veneer.

'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I'm sorry that I made you relive something so painful.'

'No,' Tae-won said, rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes and looking down at her. 'Thank you. You're the one person I've been able to tell. It was killing me inside that I was the only one who knew about her. If I was going to share my mother with anyone, I'm glad it was you.'

Rose didn't know why she did it. Perhaps it was because this was the Tae-won she'd been searching for all along in those unguarded moments when he showed glimmers of the man hiding behind the mask, or because he had the look of a person who was lost and needed to be found by someone who knew what it was to pretend to be something they weren't in the face of society. Or, perhaps, it was because he wasn't the awful man he wanted her to think he was, and this appeared to be the first and only time he'd been completely honest with her.

Whatever the reason; beer, pity, relief or – Heaven help her – love, Rose pressed her lips to Tae-won's and gave in to the moment beneath a table in an apartment in the middle of a storm with a man she had, until that night, utterly despised.

And it didn't feel wrong.