Chapter Text
One of Han Jisung's earliest memories is that of the death of his mother.
He was six at the time. His mother, the queen, had contracted a fatal illness during a trip to a neighboring kingdom. She had no symptoms until the moment she arrived home—she became violently ill and was immediately put on bedrest. The doctors hadn't the foggiest idea what was wrong with her, nor did they know how to cure her. Of course, no one mentioned to the young prince that his mother was on her deathbed. He was a little boy; no one wanted to bear the weight of telling a child his mother was dying.
Because of this, life went on fairly normally for a short while. Jisung and the king had to wear cloths covering their noses and mouths whenever they visited her so as to not contract the queen's disease.
"What's wrong, Mommy?" the young Prince Jisung asked.
"I'm not feeling well, darling," his mother replied with a smile. "But don't you worry. I'll be just fine."
"Okay, Mommy," Jisung replied happily. "Get well soon!" The little boy started to leave the room when his mother called out, "Wait, darling."
Jisung turned around and walked back to his mother's bedside. "What is it?" he asked.
"Can you make me a promise?" his mother asked. "A promise you'll never break, no matter what happens?"
"I guess so," Jisung said.
"Good." She took him by the hands. "Jisung, you are a very kind boy. I need you to promise me that you will always be kind. Never lose sight of your happiness, okay? Be happy and be kind, and the universe will reward you greatly for it." She took a deep breath. "Can you promise me that, darling?"
Jisung nodded. "I promise."
She squeezed his hands. "Good. Never forget it. I'll always be proud of you, Jisung." She smiled at him.
"Son, let's allow your mother to rest," the king said. "I'll see you in the morning," Jisung's father said solemnly to his mother. Together the two left the room. Jisung was a little confused at his mother's promise she'd asked him to make, but contented to know that she would be well again soon and that everything would be back to normal soon.
What Jisung didn't realize is that that would be the last conversation he would ever have with his mother. The next morning, the queen was dead.
"Son," his father said as he entered Jisung's bedroom, "I'm so sorry. I have some terrible news."
Jisung could see how upset his father was; the king was barely holding back tears. "What—what's wrong?" he asked nervously. He stood up and crossed the room, clutching his father's hand. "What is it, Daddy?"
"Son, I—Jisung, I don't know how to tell you this," his father said. "Let's sit down, okay?"
"Okay."
They sat down on Jisung's bed. The king rubbed a hand over his face. "Son," he said, tears rolling down his face, "your mother didn't make it. The doctors couldn't find a cure in time. She... she passed early this morning."
"W-what?" Jisung's eyes watered. "No, no, what do you mean? She—she said she'd get better!"
"I'm so sorry, Jisung. We'd all hoped she would. She—the funeral is in two days. I'm so sorry, son." With that, the king stood and left the room.
The funeral was the worst day of Jisung's life. He was glad that so many people in the kingdom cared enough about his mother to attend her funeral, but he couldn't help wondering why they were there if they'd never met her. Even the royal family from the neighboring kingdom attended the funeral. The king and queen were close friends with Jisung's parents, so it made sense that they would come to say their goodbyes. Their son, a young boy around Jisung's age, was also there and kept trying to talk to Jisung. He wasn't in the mood.
"Hi," the boy said.
"Hi," Jisung said quietly.
"I'm sorry about your mother."
"Me too."
"Maybe I could—”
"No thank you," Jisung cut the boy off, not even looking at him. "Please, I don't feel like talking right now."
"Oh... okay," the boy said. "Bye."
"Bye," Jisung said, finally looking up, only to find that the boy was already gone.
The rest of the funeral was a blur in Jisung's mind. The only part he could remember was when they began to lower his mother's coffin into her grave. The little boy had been trying to hold his emotions in as best he could, but at the sight of his mother being put into a hole in the ground, he couldn't take it anymore.
"No!" he sobbed. "No, no, no—” Jisung felt strong arms wrap around him. His father. He pulled the boy into a tight hug. Jisung buried his face in his father's chest and cried. "I know, son," the king whispered. "I know."
The king lifted Jisung into his arms and carried him away, the funeral service over. As they were leaving, Jisung caught sight of the boy from before—he knew it had to be him; he was the only other child to attend the funeral. Their eyes met. The boy waved. Suddenly, Jisung remembered his promise to his mother. Be happy. Be kind. He waved to the boy, tears still rolling down his face. The boy looked sad, although Jisung didn’t understand why. That boy had never met his mother; he had no reason to be sad.