The Truth Untold

I want to hold your trembling hand, My sky-born, fragile bloom; To fight through thorns, to understand, To reach you past the gloom.

Don’t blind me with your tender smile — It calls me, pulls me through. The dream once seemed so frail, so fragile, But who are we without the fight for truth?

“Show me your face,” Yoona whispered, her voice soft yet burning with resolve. A moment of ringing stillness passed before a tall, slender figure stepped from between the flowering trees. He moved carefully, as though afraid to startle the fragile, innocent creature that had wandered into his prison of blossoms. The mask upon his face shimmered with facets of gemstones, scattering sunlight in chaotic bursts. Blinding. Beautiful. Yoona’s heart skipped — barely, but enough to notice. “You…” She wanted to say you’re beautiful, but — “I’m your worst nightmare,” came the voice from behind the mask. “Weren’t you warned about this place?” “I don’t believe in the justice of curses,” Yoona said. “Especially those that have lasted a thousand years. Everyone deserves a second chance.” “Then you’re in the minority,” he answered, bitterly amused. “Those who imprisoned me were very sure of themselves.” “How long have you been here?” she asked calmly, unfazed, as though the weight of every warning meant nothing. Only her heartbeat mattered now. “Time loses meaning when you live too long. I stopped counting after the first thousand.” “It’s the year 1983, after the Day of the Great Magic Distribution.” “The… what?” V asked, genuinely puzzled. “That was the day every human received a fragment of magic... a unique power. They say even appearances changed. The Rulers erased every image of what people used to look like.” “I see,” V murmured. “Yes… appearances have changed, as far as I can tell. People look different now.” But what he didn’t say was, and I am still the same monster I always was. “What kind of magic did you receive?” she asked softly. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Even before all of this, flowers would grow from my tears. It’s always been that way.” He forgot, for a moment, that he had wanted to send her away. Their conversation flowed easily, too easily, perhaps. And the laughter… He hadn’t laughed in over two centuries. Maybe even longer. “Do you know why I don’t believe them?” Yoona suddenly asked, her tone serious. “And I do believe them,” he replied. “I had to. But go on, I’ll listen.” “It’s simple,” she said. “Your masks. Who makes them for you?” “I rarely know. People just leave them at my gate — no letters, no names.” “They’re grateful to you, V. Do you know how many masks you have?” “Two thousand three hundred and twenty-seven. Not counting the one they forced on me during my trial. I crushed that one into dust when I received the first gift.” “See? That’s two thousand three hundred and twenty-seven reasons to believe you were wrongfully condemned. And that’s not even counting your voice,” Yoona said softly. “Or what I see standing right in front of me.” “And what do you see?” he whispered, fearing and yearning for the answer all at once. “I see someone who needs to stop measuring himself by the judgment of others. You know you’re innocent. So why hide your face?” “You know,” he said quietly, “this is the longest conversation I’ve had since the day of my imprisonment. They call it ‘the torture of immortality’ but that’s wrong. The real torture is loneliness. And I don’t want to lose the one person I’ve just found…” “You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” Yoona laughed. “I should go for now, but I’ll come back tomorrow. Will you show me your favorite masks and tell me their stories?” “I’m afraid you won’t want to hear all two thousand of them.” “You keep underestimating me. See you tomorrow!” “If you’d like, you can take any flowers you wish,” V offered shyly. “A small token, at least.” “I prefer them here, alive. I’d rather admire them in your company if you don’t mind?” There was no reply other than silence, and a grateful gleam in his pale green eyes. Yoona turned to leave.

You are a sound long forgotten, A name I long to say. Unveil your soul, unshuttered, Let it shine, unafraid.

I’ve seen your soul in hiding, And felt its gentle flame — At dawn and dusk, uniting, Our hearts burn all the same.

From that first meeting onward, not a day passed without Yoona visiting the so-called cursed garden and her mysterious friend of the heart. They talked for hours, never sated by each other’s company. Yoona loved to run her fingers through V’s pale, silken hair; he, in turn, would wind her glossy, blue-black strands around his long fingers with quiet fascination. He loved her — with every wounded piece of his immortal soul. She became the only light in his world of endless dusk. “What mask are you wearing today, Cherry?” That name had stuck ever since the day he’d worn a velvet mask studded with rubies and picked her a bowl of tart red cherries from the garden. Today, his mask was simple and unadorned. “It was a gift,” he said softly. “From a man long ago. He suffered from terrible headaches all his life. One day, passing by my garden, he heard me sing and the pain lessened. He came again and again, and each time it hurt less. Eventually, the pain vanished. He made this mask for me, along with a long letter telling me the story.” “Do you remember what he looked like?” Yoona asked, eyes shining. “I never saw him. People have avoided me for centuries… yet somehow, they still pass by.” “You have no idea, my love, how much power lies within you.” “You want to believe that,” he sighed. “But it isn’t true.” “You’re so stubborn, Cherry!” she huffed, scrunching her nose adorably. “I don’t even know why I love you so much!” V froze, unable to process what he’d just heard. Yoona, as if realizing only now what she had said aloud, stood still too, her eyes wide, breath held. “You… mustn’t love me,” whispered the prisoner, ignoring the frantic drumming of his heart that longed to soar free of his chest. “I don’t care,” she said firmly. “I’m not afraid to speak the truth.” Her hands cradled his second, clay-crafted face; her eyes met his endless, star-bright gaze. “I love you,” Yoona breathed and kissed his rough, cold lips, seeking not the clay but the soul beneath. V pulled her close, his arms trembling as they wrapped around her fragile frame. It was now or never. “I love you too, my dearest. With all that I am. I waited a thousand years to meet you.” “I know it’s hard for you,” she whispered, “but please... show me your face. Take off the mask.” The ageless boy shook his head, lowering his eyes. “I’m too afraid of losing you.” Yoona turned and ran, her tears falling like rain onto the garden path. The joy that had filled her moments ago mingled with pain, pain for the love that did not yet trust itself. “They hurt him too deeply,” she thought fiercely. “But I’ll find a way to show him he’s beautiful... my heart, my cursed, lovely heart.” Neither Yoona nor V knew that this fateful day would be their last.