I felt the warm earth beneath my cheek first. It was so warm that it was almost a surprise to me. I knew the feel of it; so many of my happy memories had been spent lounging in the grass or foraging for herbs, my bare feet digging into the hot soil. But those memories felt like such a part of the past now. I'd been numb to them for so long, that feeling the gentle, sun-warmed grass kissing my skin almost felt like the first spring day coming out of winter.
Oh my gosh. I'm dead, was my first lucid thought. Am I in heaven now? Will I see Halmeoni? I wondered, before a sharp pain hit the side of head. "Ooo-oo," I managed, before I realized that I must be alive still, if I was able to feel pain. Am I dreaming? I tried to open my eyes a bit, but my head started throbbing as soon as I tried to unstick them. "Owww," I groaned, flopping back down.
"Don't move!"
This time, my eyes lurched open, despite the throbbing pain. What the heck? Actually, I thought something a little stronger than "heck." "Who…" I squinted against the sudden influx of bright, afternoon sunlight. "What…"
"'Who' was the right question." I heard the masculine voice, soft, warm—and more than a little wry—before I saw the figure. "Are you alright?"
"Uh, yeah…" I trailed off, blinking sun-spots away. Suddenly, he was more visible; tall—well, he seemed tall, anyways, considering he was standing over me—and wearing long, beige robes bordered in white.
Huh, wait. Robes?
I blinked again. Yes, they were robes, just like in a historical sageuk K-drama. This was weird. "Oh my gosh, I'm going to be killed by some sort of costume drama-obsessed nut," I thought. I tried to back away, moving my hands in a kind-of backwards fashion and dragging my feet with the motions, but another dull throb hit the side of my temple. I started to fall backwards, when, in one swoop, I felt a hand, large and strong, supporting the small of my back. I turned to see the man, crouched beside me.
"I think you might be hurt," he spoke again. His voice was kind, but I still squirmed instinctively against his hold. He seemed to realize it too, and he gently steadied me, so I could sit by myself.
"Mm, yup." I studied him a little more closely. Wow, he's even pretty, like in a K-drama. Although "pretty" was maybe not the best way to describe him. He was more quietly attractive than conventionally "pretty-boy." His hair was very dark brown, almost like mahogany, but definitely brown rather than black, with fine glints of natural gold and auburn coming through. It was tied back in what can only be described as the dreaded "man-ponytail," but a soft fringe covering just a section of his forehead and framing his face kept his features distinctively masculine. They were quite sharp, and yet they weren't harsh. His nose was defined and lightly angled. His lips were shapely, quirking with just the hint of a smile, although if you blinked you'd miss it. His skin was fair and clear, but also slightly dusky, the type that would tan if he spent a lot of time in the sun. If the rest of him was attractive, though, his best feature had to be his eyes. They were brown, but closer to hazel than dark chocolate, like mine were. The sparks of amber kept them lively, but their delicate oval shape gave him a gentler, more inquisitive inflection. Yup, most definitely handsome. Not a bad description from me either, considering my potential brain damage.
He scrunched his nose, and the corners of his eyes turned up a bit, although he still wasn't actually smiling. "Are you sure you aren't hurt? You aren't saying much."
"Yeah, I just was gardening, and I tripped over Jjingping—" wait a second. Why was I explaining all of this to a stranger who—handsome though he was—was clearly trespassing on my property. And in full, period-drama garb, no less. "Never mind, I'm fine." I pulled myself up to my feet—when the man held out his hand, I ignored it—and stuck my hands on my hips, trying to look braver than I felt. "What are you doing here?"
A brief look of surprise came over his eyes before he—wait, was that a smirk? "I could probably be asking you the same thing."
My eyes narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?" And better question: why am I arguing with a dude dressed like he's from the year 1000?
"You're on my land." He didn't say it meanly, just like it was a fact. That didn't stop me from feeling incensed though.
"What the bloody—are you out of your mind?"
Looking into his eyes with menace, I realized that they weren't smirking, but sparking. He was having fun, although I had no idea why. "No, but you might be."
"Come again?"
"You asked me, what I'm doing here." He moved a step closer. "Why shouldn't I be here?""Is that some sort of trick question? I appreciate your help, but I'm clearly fine now. I don't need more help, so if you could please leave my property…" I stopped when I saw his lips twitch. His eyes danced, and he crossed his arms, staring me straight in the eye. Not an easy task either—I wasn't sure whether it was better to stare the enemy down or avoid confrontation, so I had settled on a back-and-forth darting motion. "What…is so funny?" No one laughs at me and gets away with it.
His eyes were still aglow with laughter when he responded. "You're on my property."
No way am I putting up with this crap.
"That's crap," was my elegant response. "This is my grandmoth—my property, and you're trespassing. Thanks again for checking to make sure I was ok, but I'd like you to leave now."
The spark in his gaze dimmed a bit and was replaced with a look of confusion. He wrinkled his nose, ever-so-slightly. "What's crap?"
What doesn't he get about this? "The fact that you're claiming to live here. You clearly don't, I do. I will help you figure out how to get back to the film set, if you want though."
Now he looked really confused. "No, I meant what does 'crap' mean?" We stared at each other for a minute. "Film set? What do you mean, 'film set'?"
I took a deep breath and mentally counted to five before answering. "Yes. Or the re-enactment center. Wherever you need to go in those clothes," I gestured to his robes.
"What's wrong with my clothes?"
Now this is getting unbelievable. "Your clothes." I extended my arms towards him, raising them up and down as if scanning him, in the hopes that he'd take a good look at himself and spare me from having to answer his question in verbal form." Only then, I saw them. I lifted my arms in front of my face, blinking to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. Except I wasn't.
There, right in front of my nose, were a pair of arms, encased in flowy, pink silk. My own arms. Something cold rippled down my spine, like a cold gust of wind suddenly hitting me. "How could these be my arms, though?" I wondered. They were attached to me. I'd been waving them around seconds before. But they couldn't be mine. I'd been wearing my grubby t-shirt while I was gardening, not pink silk.
For the first time since waking, I took a good look around me. When I'd fallen, I'd been right beside the house. But I couldn't see the house here. I was in a field, sprinkled with wildflowers and dappled in sunlight. It could have been one of the fields close to my grandmother's house, but the house wasn't in sight.
In my confusion, I'd forgotten that I wasn't alone. I shifted my gaze to the man in front of me. He stared at me with an expression that I was all too familiar with—a look of sincere concern for my mental health.
Despite the moment of panic, I tried to think quickly. I needed to turn this around—fast. More importantly, I needed to figure out where I was, and what I was doing here. I quickly peeked at my legs. Sure enough, they were cloaked in pink silk, not my ratty PJ pants. But that's impossible. "Did you," I stared down Re-enactment Guy. "Did you…undress me?"
"What?!" He looked the most un-composed that I'd seen him—well, in all of the five minutes since I'd met him. "Why…how…how could you suggest that I'd do anything like that to you?"
He looked so shocked, that I almost felt a little bad for bringing it up. I honestly didn't think that he had done anything—after all, I didn't even know if he was even there when I first woke up. But then, how did I explain my change of clothes? And the change of location.
How could I explain him?
"I would never…" his cheeks turned pink. "I don't even know you…"
"Oh! So you would try something if you knew me, then?" Lame, but I had to pounce on anything I could. Anything to keep this guy from outsmarting me.
"What are you…" suddenly, his expression changed. A look of surprise formed in his eyes as he met my disdainful ones, and—was that recognition? "Hong Ha Na?
I paused, stunned. "Hong" was most definitely not my family name, but how did he know my given name? He pronounced it in the traditional Korean way too, with each syllable distinct.
"Sorry, I think you have the wrong person. I'm Hanna, but not 'Hong.'"
He shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts. "Sorry, it's just that you look so much like…" then he caught a look at something. Something on my face.
"What?"
"Ha Na," he stepped closer to me, and I instinctively moved backwards. "Ha Na, it's me. Don't you remember me?" Still not remembering you. He hesitated. "You know…Your Highness?"