samidare no uta

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/18632551.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: F/M
Fandom: Akatsuki no Yona | Yona of the Dawn
Relationships: Jae-Ha (Akatsuki no Yona)/Original Character(s), Son Hak/Yona
Characters: Son Hak, Yona (Akatsuki no Yona), Original Female Character(s),
Original Characters, Original Male Character(s), Yoon | Yun (Akatsuki
no Yona), Ik-Soo (Akatsuki no Yona), Four Dragon Warriors (Akatsuki
no Yona), Zeno (Akatsuki no Yona)
Additional Tags: There needs to be more Jae-ha/OC do you feel me?, I'm starving for this
nonsense so here I am, Hak's Sister OC, How Do I Tag, also
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-06-11 Words: 2,508 Chapters: 1/?
 samidare no uta
by This_Muse

Summary

Please

She prayed – so they answered.

But nothing is without a cost – and she’d given up far more than she could have ever
realized.

OC-centric
Doctor!OC
Priestess!OC
Jae-ha/OC

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 ·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The remains of the village were covered in a thin layer of snow, a gray color she had never
seen fall from the sky before she and her brother were driven from their home.

The smooth, untouched snow made the scene look almost picturesque, soft and hazy. But
shuffling forward into the scene disturbed the precipitation that had piled up, exposing the
blackened ground. Digging through the half-collapsed homes and scouring the ground further
for dirt root cellars looking for anything edible revealed only blue-black hands and broken
bodies. Touching the charred wood from whatever structures had been burned to the ground
carried the taste of ash and dust in the chilly breeze.

If she stared for too long, it felt as though she could see embers still glimmering in the
blackness, smoke curling off the bodies and homes.

Stepping into the last shed, which was relatively intact, she spotted something in the far
corner.

Held by small, chubby hands was a temari ball, its formerly vivid yellow and red fabric
scuffed and dull. Briefly, she imagined her brother holding it with his own clumsy fingers.

She continued inside.

Her brother could not do much to help, being only two years old, and clung tightly to her
skirts as she set about picking through the pockets of corpses in silence. It made maneuvering
much more difficult with him stuck to her side, but the warmth he seemed to radiate was
enough to quell whatever complaints she might have had.

No luck with food. However she did find some relatively clean fabric, somewhat singed but
still usable, big enough to cover her brother at the very least. Perfect to turn into a makeshift
sack, the way her mother had shown her to do, and at night, they could use it as a blanket.
“Yong-nee?”

At the sound of her name being called, Yong-ha turned to look at her brother. A pair of
sapphire blue eyes – just like her own – stared balefully up at her. Red-rimmed from tears and
cheeks pink from the cold, he looked perfectly miserable. “Hungry.”

At that, she pursed her lips with guilt and frustration. Instead of responding, she wrapped the
fabric she had just found – a surprisingly pretty green color – around his head, making sure to
tuck his hair under the makeshift hood.

They both had their chanchankos – winter vests – that their mother had painstakingly sewn
together for them that winter, but most everything was either gone or had to be left behind, so
they could use whatever they could get their hands on.

“More mushrooms, and weeds.”

They settled into the opposite corner from where the bodies lay, and she set about gathering a
pile of damp hay to use to cushion their heads for the night.

After pulling off their straw winter boots that were already fraying and setting them down to
dry, she pulled what little remained of their foraged food. They both sat in silence as they
gnawed on the raw vegetation.

This was the third village they had come across on they’re way to the interior of Kouka, with
no sign of anyone still left alive. Yong-ha wondered if everyone who had made it had already
left and taken everything with them – she hoped not. Young as she was, she could feel that
they were on the verge of dying – they needed help.

There was only so much a girl of seven could do to keep both herself and a toddler alive in
the cruel winter aftermath.
Feeling marginally better after having eaten, they laid down and huddled close together under
their new blanket. In the dark, she whispered anxiously to her brother, “you still have your
charm?” Feeling him nod, reached out to check that the omamori was indeed still hanging
around his neck. It had a pair of small bells attached to the top, which gave a dull clink at her
grasp. Inside was all the money they had available to them. She did not know how much it
was worth, but hopefully when they found people, they would be able to have something
warm to fill their bellies with.

She was tired of feeling so cold all the time.

She would have preferred to carry it herself in her own omamori, but the string had broken so
she had to carry it tucked into the folds of her obi, and her brother adamantly refused when
she tried to hold his charm for him. She had given in fairly quickly at his piercing wails when
she had wrenched the memento out of his hands.

Not that she could really blame him. Tucking her hand into her obi and pulling out her own
charm, she ran her fingers over the simple embroidery that spelled out her name. Though she
could not see it, the image of the yellow thread on a sweet, cherry pink fabric had imprinted
itself onto her mind.

Yong-ha recalled her mother expertly sewing her brother’s blue charm while he babbled away
in a sling on her back, only having just begun holding his own head up. She had lain down
huddled into a ball on her father’s lap across from them, watching intently as she worked.

Her fingers twitched at the memory of that warm evening.

She closed her eyes, praying until she finally lost consciousness.

As always, her dreams were full of Gods and their whispers that she couldn’t understand. In
the tumultuous cacophony of messages, only one remained with her with any clarity when
she woke the next day –

Don’t stop.
 ·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

They didn’t make it to the next village.

Two days in on their trek through the narrow, rocky path, her brother became sick.

With him unable to move, and her unable to carry him, she scrambled to find a place they
could safely rest. Just off the path up a slope was a small crevice in the stone mountain, with
just enough space for them to lay down and not be rained on.

And as luck would have it, it rained and rained with no end in sight.

Yong-ha tucked him in to the best of her ability, wrapping him in their new fabric and giving
him her own winter vest on top of it all.

She tried to feed him the handful of wild berries they had found during their trip, but the
exercise was futile as his stomach rejected anything she gave him. Only the handfuls of snow
she gave him stayed down.

Despite everything she tried, his breathing only grew more labored, and his body hotter as the
night wore on.

She shivered, clad only in her thin undergarment layer as she squeezed him closer, upset his
fever was only getting worse but her finger tips and cheeks felt warmer for it.

A numbness spread through her chest like frost over a leaf. The question she didn't dare think
even to herself was infesting her subconscious as she held onto his thin body, a hopeless
prayer on her lips.
Please.

She stared into the pitch-black void that led to the outside world. She couldn’t tell how long
she kept her eyes open, but it felt as though the emptiness could consume her at any moment.
The anxiety that had been simmering inside of her, low and steady but relatively manageable,
suddenly boiled over and she was left momentarily breathless with fear.

Heart pounding, she squeezed her eyes shut to try and keep the tears that had sprung forth
from overtaking her.

At that moment, she desperately wanted her mother and father, but at the thought of their
ghosts looming over them, she could only beg for grace.

He’s all I have – please –

Despite herself, Yong-ha eventually drifted off.

Her dreams were different that night.

The darkness which had always been lonely and crowded and deafening and confusing, felt
for the first time like a soft embrace.

It felt like being in her father's arms as he carried her home from the harvest celebration, the
gentle rhythm of his tread rocking her to sleep. The sensation of her mother’s cool fingers
smoothing down her disheveled hair was followed by kisses on her cheeks and nose, and a
soft laugh.
Yong-ha slowly lifted her drowsy eyes open, and was met with the sight of her mother –
adorning her usual patient smile, with her beautiful black hair pulled back in her big braid she
always wore. Yong-ha had frequently pestered her mother to allow her to weave it for her,
and her mother never refused her pleas when she did. She would go about her day with the
uneven, but sturdy handiwork without a single word of complaint. Even now, in this
miraculous vision, Yong-ha could see the somewhat misshapen form peeking out from
behind her mother’s back.

And though she could not see him, too lethargic to lift her head and look, she could feel her
father’s hand patting a soft beat on her back, and the somewhat coarse fabric of his clothes
were bunched against her cheek where she rested her head.

As her mother continued to stroke her cheek, her expression twisted with something like
regret.

Kaa-san?

At her questioning look, her mother sighed and leaned forward to kiss her forehead one last
time, and whispered her final words to her.

When her mother pulled away, blue eyes boring into her, Yong-ha nodded in silent
acquiescence.

And with that, unable to keep them open any longer, her eyes drifted shut once more.

Yong-ha awoke to a soft drizzle, the sky still a soft blue-gray, the hint of dawn still far down
the horizon but steadily approaching.

The voices that had been confined to her subconscious up until that point now spoke to her
softly and clearly.
They offered her a gift – an exchange. They would answer her cries, if she could do one
thing. A sea of different voices – young, old, soft, harsh – came together as one.

Will you do it?

Yong-ha remembered the last words she was left with – her promise to them.

Her heart as calm as a still lake, she sealed their fates –

Yes.

The light of the crimson dawn that followed would forever be seared into her memory.

·· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bright blue eyes glittering with tears and defiance bore into her when Yong-ha broke the
news to her little brother.

“ NO!” His scream rang high and loud, so much so that the handful of birds that had been
perched on branches nearby all fluttered away, spooked by the piercing noise.

Yong-ha had gravely informed the young boy that she would have to go on an errand -
without him. She had done this frequently with her mother, when they went off to pick wild
vegetables further out in the mountain, and he had been left home to play in the village with
the other children. But given the situation, and his unnervingly keen instinct for detecting
deception, he could tell that this would not be a simple day trip where his older sister would
return with food by the end of it.

Clinging desperately to her waist, he buried his face in her stomach. Unable to help herself,
Yong-ha kneeled down and returned the embrace. She inhaled deeply, and though neither
smelled very pleasant after having lived in the wilderness on their own for so long, it filled
her with nothing short of joy that she could feel his warmth, the thrum of his heartbeat, the
softness of his body.

He was so alive it almost let her forget just how cold and still he had been only three days
ago.

Almost.

After she took a moment to gather herself, she pulled away to look him in the eye.

“Listen to me. A man is going to come here. He has a big scar on his face, and a black horse.
He’s going to help you. You need to go with him.”

Despite having clearly told him that they could not be together anymore, whether from hope
or disbelief, he asked, “Yong-nee will come too?”

She pursed her lips at the question, trying not to let them quiver – if she showed weakness
here, she knew she would cave.

“Yong-nee needs to do something very important, so I can’t go.” Slowly, she rose and began
to turn away, her little brother latching onto the fabric of her skirt as she did.

The crying started when she began prying his hands off. Big, wailing sobs that hurt both her
eardrums and resolve. Stomping his foot, he screamed his disapproval at her departure - at
her abandonment.
“Nooo! Kaa!” When, in his hysterics, he inevitably cried out for their mother, she finally
snapped.

Whirling around, she gripped his shoulders. “Kaa-san is gone!”

She couldn’t stop, despite how terrible she felt seeing the stunned look on his face. “Tou-san
is gone! And I promised them that Nee-san would take care of you! But I can’t!” Her brother
sniveled, but the rare sight of her tears and anger seemed to startle him enough that he fell
silent.

Yong-Ha fell to her knees, and held his face in her hands. His cheeks were slick with tears
and snot. Pulling out her omamori , and tugging his out of the folds of his kimono, she made
him promise. “This isn’t goodbye – I’m going to come and get you some day. I promise.”

She untied the string around his neck, deftly shaking out their meager collection of coins
from where she had transferred them to her own bag, back into his. Stuffing his light blue
charm into her obi, she placed her own blossom colored one into his small hands, her only
slightly bigger ones holding them reassuringly.

“You need to hold onto Nee-san’s omamori for me until we see each other again, and I’ll hold
onto yours. Can you do that?”

“Don’ wanna.” His words were defiant, but his tone was wobbly.

With a small sigh, she leaned in to kiss his forehead, like their mother used to. “You have to.”
She begged. “Please, be strong – for me.”

He was silent, and Yong-Ha nearly resigned herself to having to abandon him while he
screamed for her not to go. But just as she was about to move, she heard it.
“Okay.”

Despite it all, she felt pride blooming in her chest. She knew he would live up to his promise.

She watched from a distance, hidden in the shrubbery as her vision came to fruition. A man
with feathers in his graying hair pulled to a stop as he spotted the little boy sitting under the
tree. Hopping off his steed, he crouched down in front of the child. The two seemed to have a
discussion she couldn’t hear, the only thing she could catch being the sharp bark of laughter
the man gave at something her brother had said.

Her heart thumped loudly, heavily as she watched them ride away. The grief she had held
onto since their parents’ death reared its head, stronger than before.

She whispered her last farewell.

“Goodbye, Hak.”
End Notes

This is a revamp of my older fic Polaris. If there’s anyone who came here from that update, I
appreciate your faith and willingness to give me a chance. I’ve made some major changes to
certain characters, but the spirit of the story remains the same.

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!