milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Today has not been a very good day, but eight has never been one of Sun's lucky numbers. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

She does not know if she likes these caves. They are dark and she misses the stars overhead and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore. But Jin is her husband and for now, she does as he asks. For now, she owes him that much. Nightgown in hand, she steps through the rock opening and does a double-take, and then another: where is this place?

With the nightgown clutched protectively to her chest she steps forward, brows furrowed, eyes darting back and forth. There is no comfort in the location or in the sudden profusion of company.

"Jin-Soo? [Help me.]"

But Jin is not here, and he cannot help her. Her hand goes to the top button of her sweater; she makes sure it's fastened.

"[Excuse me... where are we? What is this place?]"

[작은 꼬리표: Hercules]

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"A year," Sallie replies aloud instead of writing.

It's a test, if anything.

That makes her stop; her eyes move around the room taking in all the details. First Seoul, then Sydney, then an island, and now this: none of it makes any sense. Reaching over, she takes the pen, turns over her translated piece of paper, and writes four simple characters on it:

2004
She slides that over to Sallie and watches as it's read.

"That is the year."

Sallie's tone shifts incrementally from helpful to a dry offering of information: "To you."

"I am... sorry." This makes little sense. "That is the year to me."

In all of her language lessons, Jae never taught her that English-speaking people like to have that clarified. Now she knows. Taking the paper back she turns it over again to re-read the original note, the one translated into Korean for her. "Milliways is the bar at the end of the universe."

She glances over at Sallie, the need for answers outweighing the need to maintain a pretense of not understanding. "I thought you were... joking. I thought it was not a very funny joke. I am sorry it is not a joke. I miss my husband and would like to go back to him."

"I am not the one that controls if you are here or not."

Sallie exhales. "Can I ask you your name?"

"Oh!" A blush moves over her face. "I am sorry. Sun, my name is Sun. Sun Kwon." She nods into a small bow of acknowledgment. "Also, I am sorry for making you do... this." With a wave, she indicates the piece of paper. "I have to be very careful. My husband does not know I speak English."

"Do what you need to do, I suppose. Though if it helps, I've never met anyone else that speaks...your language."

"No one who speaks Korean? What has happened to the world in 2522?"

She can't fathom a world without that.

Sallie winces.

"Nobody lives on Earth anymore. In my universe. There's plenty of other universes out there."

"Nobody?"

No, no, no: she is ready for this all to be over. Resting her head in her hand, she takes three deep and steady breaths. By the time she straightens up again there's a little steely resolve in her eyes.

"What are these other... universes like?"

"Mine? Well, the planet I live on apparently looks like the Midwestern United States. All fields and such. My son lives on a spaceship, though."

"Hwa, no, on a spaceship?"

She has never been to the midwestern United States, but would have liked to go. Now it seems as if that dream has become impossible.

"Sallie. Why is there no door? What does someone do when the only thing they have is taken away?" By the minute, she's gladder she did not leave Jin at the airport.

Sallie drops the spaceship detail for now, concentrating more on the fact that Sun sounds...well, far more distressed about the bar than any other newcomer Sallie's met.

"What's at home, for you?"

"I don't even know where home is any more." Exhausted, she rubs one eyebrow with the back of her hand gracefully, like a musician caressing the body of her instrument.

"Eight days ago, the airplane my husband and I were on broke apart in the sky and crashed to the ground. Many people died but we did not. Since then, we have been living on an island waiting for rescue. I do not know where the island is or what it is called. We have lived in the wreckage of the airplane until tonight, when the doctor -- his name is Jack -- found a cave. He says it is safer there, so we moved to the cave from the beach. So what is at home besides my husband and fresh water? I do not know. There has been no time to explore it yet."

"Milliways might be your little miracle then, eventually."

Pointing to the bar: "Order somethin' to eat."

Sallie's expression doesn't waver at the explanation of Sun's situation -- it's just that first things first.

How can this place be a miracle? At Sallie's suggestion she shakes her head vehemently. "I have... no money. I cannot afford to eat."

For the first three or four days she held onto her purse very carefully but now... now it seems pointless to carry it. The sand and the trees do not demand payment for their heat and shelter and fruit.

"But you're Bound. You have to eat sometime. Bar's not goin' to let you starve."

Sun smiles softly. "For a week now, I have been craving steamed mandu -- dumplings. On the island we have only seafood and fruit. This is funny, because at home in Seoul, these dumplings are street food, common fare. A guilty indulgence, but when one cannot have these things..." She shrugs. "For a week now I would have given anything for a bowl of these. But they are very specific to... oh!"

Her eyes light up in shock as a bowl of steaming dumplings appear, complete with kimchi and soy sauce and crushed red pepper and chopsticks.

"Oh! That just... how did it... oh, those smell so good, where did they come from?" The same place as that pen and paper earlier, maybe?

"How can this be? Is it safe to eat?"

"Do you want me to steal one for you, watch me if I fall over?" Sallie jokes.

What? It's a valid question.

"I'd eat before they get cold, young lady."

"Would you... like to share?"

This has nothing to do with fear of being poisoned and everything to do with civility and thankfulness. After all of Sallie's help, it seems that offering is the easiest thing she's done since she found herself here.

Sharing sounds like a better plan than taste-testing, and Sallie nods, asking for a pair of chopsticks from the bar in Mandarin before taking one off of Sun's plate.

Sallie nods approvingly, adding, "There's something similar at home. Good stuff; I see why you'd miss it."

"There is so much I miss." The lure of food is strong, though, and she dips the dumpling into soy sauce and pepper -- she would normally have mixed the pepper in the sauce, but sometimes people do not like food with as much spice as she does -- and takes a bite.

It is the best mandu she has ever tasted.

"Oh. Mmm! So good."

Now it doesn't matter what else she misses from home: her stomach tells her that it's time to stop talking and eat, and it doesn't need to be done delicately. It's been more than a week since she had a hot meal.

Sallie doesn't take any other mandu off of Sun's plate.

She appears to need them far more than Sallie does, is the old lady's conclusion.

When Sun finishes, "What else do you miss? Maybe I can help."

Oh, she has never eaten so much so quickly and she ought to be ashamed, but she cannot be. On the island, she has been very hungry. They all have.

"I miss my dog."

She doubts that Sallie can help her with that.

Oh.

"If you're an animal lover in general, there's stableyards outside. I don't know if you ride."