4752년 2월 1일
Usually, the start of a new year is something to celebrate - to herald with joyful cheers. And despite the woes of the past 50 years, there was reason to celebrate something. Peace. For the first time in many years, the whole realm on land and sea had been pacified, the New Order was finally realized, in part to devolve the role of the Imperial Armed Forces, to share the responsibility of government with the diverse locales where government was perhaps more effective. Perhaps the biggest help came from the farthest reaches of the realm - in Jipryuk (Europa) and Gamryuk (Africa); those areas were able to police their own sovereign lands with minimal interference from the Han. And what was the objective in all of this - to uproot a criminal organization whose sole purpose was the utter destruction of the Han civilization? At what expense was such work to be effected? They were trying times for all, least of all the common person on the street who strove to make ends meet. Nonetheless, the end of these troubling times seemed to be coming to end - a new cycle had begun. The old cycle had seen the integration and disintegration of a global, transregional Empire; perhaps the new cycle would see the beginning of a new era of prosperity.
Indeed, there was much to celebrate in the rejuvenated Empire - it was the ascension of the newest Empire, following nearly 30 discontinuous years of martial regency. While the military cherished its role as the head of the greatest country in the region (if not the world?), there were murmurs of discontent. Years of fighting the Mujeongbu had inexorably led to conflicts of natural rights and Imperial security. Well why fight for Imperial security, if there is no Emperor? Well, he is being sought... Sought was he, and found then at an auspicious time.
Yi Yeong-Cheon was the bastard child of Yi Mu-Ja. At the ripe age of 6, his mother died, leaving him without a notable father and stranded in the streets. It was not the sort of beginnings one would expect of nobility, particularly since his biological father was unknown. But thanks to the miracle of science, it was possible to find the little strain of DNA that would connect his blood to royalty - somehow. When he turned 12, Hwarang Agents swept him off the streets and brought him to the elegant decor of Cheongbok Palace, built by the Yeongmu Emperor many years ago - the last true Emperor. Yeong-Cheon was bit perplexed, as were many people around the Imperial quarters. How could he be the offspring of an Emperor who was at least 20 years dead (or missing) and left no progeny? Well, the Imperial scholars fudged around the family tree a bit and found an exciting link dating back all the way back to the Gwangmu Emperor. Indeed, the Gwangmu Emperor was noted for bring the Han Empire to the world, that beautifully devastating period that saw the resurgence of the Mujeongbu and the near annihilation of a civilization (not to mention several unsavory international incidents). But additionally, that Emperor had a brother - a very prolific brother who had many children, one of whom even became betrothed in a rare ceremony between the Han and another Empire. It was perhaps the first step to integrating with the rest of the world, but it was a short-lived moved, which ended with terrorists (of a different sort) killing that line. Not to worry, the Emperor's brother had many other offspring, two sons, three daughters, and five purported others (he was a shameless philanderer). Some of those "illegitimate" children still carried the noble blood of Taejo, which meant that there will still a chance that the Emperor's offspring was around.
Yeong-Cheon - by extension of the Imperial Academy's logic - was (at best) the third cousin, twice removed of the not-so-recently departed Yeongmu Emperor. It mattered little - Yeong-Chein reveled at the prospect of becoming Emperor. It is any little boy's dream to become something so much greater than himself. He figured as well that it was no big deal to change the clothes of the street for those of the palace. It was a thought that he shared with himself throughout his formative years - until his sixteenth birthday, when he was to be prepared for his competency examination. The people all assembled upon Changan Square on the eve of the new year to hear the Regents read his results... - he passed! Yet... there were the murmurs that perhaps it was best to leave the martial regency in place until Yeong-Cheon had formalized his Imperial authority...
Baek Jun-Hwan was a little upset at the news, but in retrospect, it was plainly obvious that the military powers in control were too reluctant to give up their power. And now that they had some poor kid (literally) as their pawn in this play for power, they could continue to play on the "necessity" of the regency until his Imperial authority had become formalized.
"Ah, they will never give up their power," Jin remarked loudly. The other patrons in the bar glanced passingly at the old man before resuming their prior habits. Baek quietly approached him and tapped his shoulder gently. "Jin-sshi, you're drunk. It's best not to upset the other customers."
"Ah, I know when I am drunk, and I have not even crossed halfway to drunk!" Baek continued to coerce Jin to quiet down subtly, but he was too inebriated either to notice or to care. "This government has been working on a farce for most of my life, and what, while you kids lay low like i]dogs[/i], cowering with your tails behind your legs - this military is seizing more and more power."
"Jin-sshi, the censors..."
"Damn the censors! They can't silence me! I'm been talking for 60 years, ain't no one stopping me from talking! Not my mother, not my father, not my teacher, and no %$#^ing fancy-pants marshal is going to stop me from talking. Besides, what could be so wrong about stating the obvious? The Marshals just want power for themselves. This 'Emperor' - if he even is Emperor at all! - is going to sit on the Vermilion Throne while the general, the admirals, the marshals whisper into his weak little ears and give them exactly what they want! That's the same way it happened with Gyeongmun (the posthumous name of the Yeongmu Emperor), and if this kid survives long enough to have his own kids, they'll do the same to his kids. Maybe they'll just pick up some other random boy of the street and make him Emperor! They're just giving out the title away, aren't they?..."
It was not long before two men in dark suits entered the bar. Baek desperately tried to calm Jin down, but he shook off any offer of help. "I'm an old man," he said, turning to the man in dark suits. "You can't do worse than what you've done to this country. I'll go calmly." And with that, the two men escorted Jin out - such was the way it seemed for some time. Baek knew that their patience would run out eventually, however. The censors were not to be taken lightly, even if they served a public good. Personally, Baek hated them, but maybe Jin was right - they're all frightened of the military, especially in the wake of the JeongsaProtests, which saw thousands of innocent citizens killed by the military. It was a dark time, and it nearly brought the Empire into conflict with most of the other countries at that time - save the brilliant intervention of the Diplomat, a man so mysterious and powerful that he's only known by that name around the whole world. After the Jeongsa crisis, he disappeared - leaving behind a stronger political union and many disappointed and terrified people. That was the day they realized that their government could kill them with virtual impunity.
Baek still thinks about that. He had read about it in school, and he reflected that he was born in the Jeongsa year - 21 years ago. That could have been him, or his parents that were killed in the protests. In fact, it was quite possible that his own father was killed, since he was without a father for as long as he could remember. His mother and his grandfather - Mr. Jin - were his parental figures, and after his mother passed away two years, he's been helping out in his grandfather's bar ever since. He had just passed the citizenship competency exams, but without the time to study anymore, he's stuck as an Intermediate Scholar - not good enough for any of the bigger jobs that he's wanted since he was little. As he cleaned up the bar area to prepare for the evening rush, he thought about the chances of him becoming a journeyman storekeeper, owing to his grandfather's status. But that was unlikely; Jin brushed too often with the wrong side of what passes for the law in these parts (so much that even Jin said to avoid calling him "grandfather" - to protect himself from retribution), and Baek wasn't too keen to become a storekeeper anyway. He sighed - there wasn't much going right in the world for him.
It would have been worse if Jin did not return before the evening rush. Unfortunately, he did not; fortunately, the evening rush was not so rushy. In fact, it was a horrible day - only a few regular patrons came to order some food to take home. Baek angrily barked orders into the kitchen, wondering why his cook was acting so slowly - but it was more the absence of Jin that worried him too much that he became easily agitated. When Jin did not return after the closing hour - as was mandated by curfew - he paid the cook the daily salary and started to close up the shop. As he started stacking chairs atop the tables, he expected to see Jin stumble into the Bar, prostrate and drunk beyond belief. "That man has gone and gotten himself drunk at Old Long's place again!" he muttered to himself. There was no other reason for his visit to the censors to take so long.
He was nearly correct. However, instead of old Jin stumbling into the Bar, a young boy rushed into the room. "Hey!" Baek yelled. "You can't come in here. We're closed! Curfew!"
"Please, you must let me stay here!"
"No! It's curfew! Go home!"
"I can't!"
Just then, the wailing sounds of a siren echoed in the distance. Baek's face rushed with blood, terrified at the thought of some hoodlum entering his Bar. He couldn't have this place, on the same night that Jin was taken by the censors! "You can't stay here, you %$# criminal!"
"I'm no criminal! I'm running away!"
"Don't care! Go home to your mommy!"
"I... I don't have one."
"Daddy?"
"Also."
Baek was half-way ready to shove the kid out the door, but a sudden grip of guilt rushed over him. It grew even greater when the sirens became louder and then suddenly faded as the emergency vehicle rushed off to some other locale. He let go of the kid's collar and pulled up a chair, reclining there as he looked at this kid - definitely teen-aged or somewhere thereabout. Like many other orphans in the country at that time, he must have been enrolled into a state school, which would have explained much about his attire and his affect. Even though he knew the love of his own mother, Baek knew too well the pain of losing parents, and he couldn't tell whether this kid was old enough to remember that. He contemplated letting the kid stay the night, only to find his problems had expanded.
"Aish, that bastard Long!" Jin cried, nearly crawling on his knees toward the door. Baek rose from the chair and rushed to bring Jin inside. Jin shoved him, trying to assert his own strength. "I can walk, young one."
"You're stumbling, Jin-sshi," Baek replied. "You're not even walking on your feet!"
"I lost my feet in the war, little worm!"
"You never fought in any war!"
"What war!?"
Baek sighed. "Exactly."
Jin slowly walked into the bar, nearly completely cared for and everything in it stowed for tomorrow. He made his way to the chair and noticed the little boy sitting on the floor. "Jun-Hwan, what is that?" he asked.
"That's an orphan."
"Shouldn't he be in a school, or something like that?"
Baek nodded. The kid shook his head. Jin shook his head and waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, this kid can stay."
The two of them looked awestruck at the old man. "Really?" they exclaimed nearly simultaneously.
"Absolutely, it's worth one grain of rice for each moment of charity. Even if the government won't do it, it's our shared responsibility to care for one another. This child needs help and a place to sleep - let us share our wealth."
Baek shook his head and whispered to Jin, "Have you forgotten about the curfew?!?"
"Bah, the curfew stinks. You broke curfew many times, if I recall correctly! In fact, wasn't there this lovely woman?..."
Baek shook his hands, cajoling him to stop. "Okay, okay, the kid can stay. But... we're going to have to figure out some alibi."
"He's your cousin."
"My cousin?"
Jin laughed. "These days, anyone can be your cousin." He called out to the boy - "Hey, you! What's your name?"
The boy paused and slowly, silently uttered a name. "Dok-Do."
"Dok-Do, aish, what a horrible name. Jun-Hwan, this is Geun-Ho." Jin said specifically to Jun-Hwan, introducing him to the name. He turned to the kid. "Geun-Ho, this is your cousin - Jun-Hwan. Remember that." The boy nodded feverishly. He apparently knew what was at stake. Baek shook his head in disbelief, even though more and more - as time passed and he had time to ponder more about the situation, his heart too accepted the situation. For his part, old and severely drunk, Jin stumbled back to his feet and patted Baeks shoulder. "Good work in the bar today. I'm going to get some rest. Show your cousin to his bed." He walked out of the room, up the stairs to the residence floor. Baek looked at Geun-Ho, closing the door firmly shut to keep out any other intruders and quickly rearrange the last bits of the furniture. Geun-Ho seemed much more naturally relaxed, almost too much to a certain extent. When he had finished, he turned to the boy and showed him a corner by the kitchen with a padded cushion and a light blanket. "This is where you will sleep."
"What? This dingy thing?"
Baek turned irate. "If it's dingy, why not go back to your school?"
The boy pouted still, shaking his head. "If this is my bed, then where is yours?" Baek pointed at that very spot. Geun-Ho shook his head. "But we can't possibly share the same bed!"
"I know," Baek said, walking away. Geun-Ho watched him walk back to the main floor, propping up a chair and reclining on the table. It was perhaps then that Geun-Ho understood the situation, and seeing little alternative relented to sleeping on that dingy spot. And as the light turned dim in the place, Baek gave only faint hints of a smile when he saw Geun-Ho laying on the spot where he had slept before, thinking to himself that this was the same way that his mother used to sleep. Perhaps that cycle had finally come full circle?
