BSMF | 01

~Chapter 01~

Limp. Limp. Limp.

The sound of dragging footsteps scraped harshly against the sandy ground.

With every sound, pain flared up all over my body at once.

“Haa…”

No matter how hard I clenched my teeth, I couldn’t stop the groan from escaping.

My vision swam. The darkness of the night and scattered lights melted together like clay.
My clothes, stiff with dried blood, scratched painfully against my skin every time I moved.

Even so, I did not stop walking.

No—I couldn’t stop.

Until the mission is complete… I can’t stop.

Tap. Tadatak. Tadak!

At that moment, I heard someone running not far away.

Judging by the uneven footsteps, he was badly injured too.

Using the last of my strength, I followed the sound.

At last, I saw a man leaning against the red brick wall of the post office.

“Damn it… Those stubborn bastards!”

Tairo Sosuke.

A military police colonel infamous for his cruelty and brutality.

He was an evil man who had committed unforgivable crimes against our people—against Joseon itself.

And the one who killed the person most precious to me…

Unable to contain my anger, I tightly gripped the Mauser pistol in my right hand.

Pain throbbed through my arm, and something hot poured down from my wound.

“Stop! Come any closer and I’ll shoot!”

Sosuke pointed his gun at me in a final act of desperation.

The earlier explosion had left him barely able to stand, but the viciousness of a man who rose to colonel was still there.

“You worthless Joseon bitch. You think you’ll survive after doing this to me?!”

“You talk too much for someone about to die.”

“Shut up!”

Bullets flew past me one after another.

He couldn’t even aim properly.

The thought that my comrades had died at the hands of someone like him filled me with rage.

Click. Click.

At last, only the empty sound of a spent magazine came from his gun.

This was the end of his stubborn life.

“Tairo Sosuke.”

I slowly raised my arm and aimed.

“In the name of the Joseon people, and in the name of the many comrades you killed…”

“In their name.”

“I sentence you to death.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three flashes burst from the muzzle.

Sosuke’s body jerked violently.

Shot cleanly in vital spots, he glared at me with bloodshot eyes—then collapsed.

When the gunshots faded, only heavy silence remained.

“….”

I stared at the empty air, then slowly lowered my arm.

The gun fell to the ground with a dull thud.

Drip. Drip.

Tears fell.

They soon poured like rain, soaking my face, my clothes, and the ground.

Such an easy thing—why did it take so long?

Our enemy was dead, but Joseon’s enemy still lived.

I had lost everything… yet I was still standing.

“Hic… hngh…”

I collapsed to the ground and sobbed.

Behind my closed eyes, the face of one man appeared clearly, tormenting me.

“It’s all over now… Can’t you come to me now?”

Like before—can’t you tell me I did well, and pat my head again?

Like the night we danced under the lights of Gyeongseong.

Like the spring night when we kissed beneath falling petals.

Like the day you told me you loved me…

“Please… come get me.”

But that night, you never came.

As if to carve into my heart that you had left me forever.

I wanted desperately to return to the moment I first met you.

[Four years earlier, August 1938]

Even late into the night, the summer heat lingered.

The most famous bar and secret dance hall in Gyeongseong—the Modern Café—was alive as always, its underground hall filled with glittering lights, loud music, and laughter.

People clapped to the jazz band, laughing and drinking.

Men and women paired up and danced.

The fear of police raids was swallowed down with alcohol.

The rumors were true—this was where all the modern boys and girls gathered.

Yet despite the lively music, several men kept glancing impatiently toward the stage.

“When does that Western dance performance you mentioned start?” one complained.

“Just wait a bit. Natasha will be out soon.”

“Natasha? The dancer who copies Choi Seung-hee’s choreography exactly?”

“That’s right. My sister and brother-in-law love Western dance. They saw her last week and said she was just like Choi Seung-hee.”

“Still, waiting this long is killing me.”

“Just be patient.”

As the argument died down, the café owner, Kim Man-seok, climbed onto the stage and raised his voice.

“Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you for coming tonight! The performance you’ve all been waiting for—Natasha and her Butterflies—will begin shortly. Please wait just a moment longer!”

Cheers erupted.

“Natasha! Natasha!”

At the same time, backstage, seven women listened to the roaring crowd.

The woman standing at the front—clearly Natasha—turned with a sharp gaze.

“Be careful. One mistake from any of you will ruin my entire dance.”

“Yes, sister.”

Among them, So-hye nodded quietly.

She was the youngest of the “Butterflies,” dancers meant only to make Natasha shine.

The audience barely noticed them.

Every finger movement had to be perfect—for Natasha’s flawless stage.

Just do what we practiced.

Soon, Natasha stepped onto the stage, smiling brightly, followed by So-hye and the others.

The crowd erupted.

Men cheered, women frowned at the revealing costumes yet couldn’t look away.

The seven women began to move smoothly with the music.

Gasps spread as the audience was drawn in.

The dancers fluttered like fairies and butterflies.

After the final pose, thunderous applause filled the hall.

All praise went to Natasha.

She bowed gracefully and disappeared into the crowd.

The Butterflies slipped quietly backstage.

“Haa…”

So-hye exhaled and removed her gold wig, revealing sweat-soaked black hair.

Another performance safely finished.

That alone was a relief.

She changed into plain clothes—a cap, old shirt, worn pants—so she’d look like a small young man.

She didn’t want to be harassed.

As she headed out, a drunk man suddenly shoved her.

“Hey! Another clueless one!”

She struggled, but his strength was too much.

Just then, a large hand rested on her shoulder.

“Why bother someone who has nothing to do with this?”

A low, calm voice spoke behind her.

The man let go immediately.

When So-hye turned to thank her rescuer—

She froze.

He was around thirty.

Neatly combed black hair, sharp brows, deep eyes holding warmth and darkness.

Strong nose, clean jawline.

And above all—

Lips tinged red, dangerously seductive.

“So… you were saying?”

So-hye’s chest filled with a strange, sweet sensation.

Her heart raced. Her face burned.

She had never seen a man like this before.

Without thinking, the words slipped out.

“Your lips are too—”

“What?”

“Huh?!”

Realizing what she said, she bowed deeply.

“I—I’m sorry!”

She ran.

Even after stopping, her heart pounded wildly.

“It feels strange… really strange.”

On that summer night, a nameless flower bloomed quietly in Baek So-hye’s heart.