Linked: The War of the Gems - Book 1

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Linked: The War of the Gems - Book 1 Page 7

by Alexandra Johnson


  “Don’t fret, Arisawa-chan. I am not angry.” It was hard to tell sometimes. Mulan always sounded so serious. “I just want you to be prepared. After all, your wounds have yet to heal.”

  Aoi shifted in her seat, her hand unconsciously touching the bandages under her sleeves. She was uncomfortable all of a sudden. Again, Mulan was right. She hadn’t been prepared last time and she’d paid the price for it. It couldn’t happen again. She might not make it out so easily next time.

  “What time would you like to start?”

  “After breakfast, if there’s nothing else more important you must do.”

  Aoi didn’t have to think about that. She sighed. “There’s not.”

  This will be good, she thought. I want to be prepared next time I face an enemy. The thought that she had enemies was a strange one for Aoi. People were either friends, acquaintances, or strangers. But to have enemies? It felt like only special, important people should have enemies, not teenage girls like herself.

  “It’ll be hard at first,” continued Mulan, “but you will progress and become stronger. No one wins a war in a day, after all. Especially if they don’t know how to fight.” Sounded like she was speaking from experience. When Aoi thought about it, she probably was.

  “Right . . .” Still, Aoi was less than certain. “And about Akabori-senpai?”

  Mulan breathed out a groan. “Not this again, Arisawa-chan.”

  “I think he’s a good guy. He seemed nice enough anyways. A little gruff, but nice. If we run into him again, I think we should give him a chance.”

  “I disagree. He’s a troublemaker—not a potential friend.”

  “You can’t know that! And another thing—”

  A little bubble popped up in the bottom right corner of her screen. It read, “Empress is now online.”

  Aoi couldn’t help but smile as she clicked the name in her contacts (which only consisted of her three friends). She’d have to ask Makoto if he had Skype sometime.

  “You know what, we can talk about this later.”

  “Oh? Is your friend ‘online,’ as you called it?”

  “Yeah, she is!”

  “Then I shall let you talk to her.” That said, Mulan vanished from sight.

  Aoi chatted online with Kimi for a while, then went to sleep. She slept well too. At least, much better than she thought she would. There were no dreams. Just peaceful nothingness until she slowly opened her eyes and noticed sunlight streaming in from her window. Morning had come.

  She smiled to herself, happy to have her first day off. She didn’t want to do anything, just lie around and rest. Maybe play some video games or surf the Internet. That would be nice.

  And then she remembered.

  She couldn’t take it easy. Not right now, anyways. She had to train first.

  She readied herself for the day before she approached Mulan. Her father had already left for work. The man never took a day off.

  Once again, the warrior sat on the couch, focused on the news. Aoi thought about sneaking back upstairs. Maybe Mulan hadn’t noticed. She could hide in her room until she was actually ready to train, if she was ever ready to at all.

  But then she realized that wouldn’t work. Mulan was tied to her—or the gem in her hand anyways. She’d know she was awake. She probably already knew, but was just waiting for her to be ready.

  So she forced herself over to the couch. She looked down at Mulan with a hesitant smile. “So . . . Watching the news?”

  Mulan returned Aoi’s smile, though hers was filled with confidence. “I am. There is still much I’ve yet to learn about the modern world. The gem’s village is nice, but not a whole lot goes on in there. When nothing changes, it’s hard for people to have anything interesting to say.”

  Aoi nodded. She didn’t blame the warrior. She had to be curious about everything she missed. It had to be hard to catch up with everything. But Aoi was still curious about the other people in Mulan’s gem village. She hadn’t seen anyone else when she’d dreamed of visiting, but the spirit was very private about her home.

  Now that Aoi was here, Mulan’s attention was on her. Training was key, it seemed. And speaking of training . . .

  “Are you ready to go?”

  Aoi shrugged. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  That was enough for Mulan. She stood and headed for the door, but paused. “Oh, your television.” She remembered what it was called. That was progress.

  “Not to worry. I’ve got it.” Aoi grabbed the remote. All it took was the press of a button for the screen to go dark. Then she hurried after her spirit.

  She was eager to learn, but nervous. Aoi followed Mulan into the large, grassy backyard.

  “I thought we were training.”

  Mulan nodded. “We will,” she said. “Though I prefer the term sparring.”

  Sparring? Like, Aoi was actually going to fight the hero who saved China? Seriously?

  Mulan folded her hands before her. “Sit down, Arisawa.” Aoi sat. The grass was a little wet from the morning dew. “Fighting is meant to protect those who cannot protect themselves. That is the only way it can be used for good. Otherwise, it’s just causing a ruckus and is unacceptable. Don’t be like those delinquents, Arisawa. You’re better than that.”

  “Yes, Hua-san,” Aoi said. She didn’t want to start another argument about yankii and Tatsuo right now.

  “Come now, Arisawa-chan. Stand, and take your best shot.”

  Aoi looked down at her hands. “With what?”

  Mulan sighed. “Your weapon, Arisawa-chan. Summon it.”

  “But how—”

  “Search inside yourself.” It was almost a bark, but friendly. “You’ve found it once; you can find it again.”

  Aoi stood and took a deep, shaking breath, then exhaled. She closed her eyes and tried to think of the strange blue laser ring from last week. For a long moment, nothing happened. But then . . . Aoi could feel something, like it was right in front of her. She just had to reach out and grab it. Eyes still closed, Aoi raised her right hand and grasped for the ring.

  And there it was. In Aoi’s hand was the flickering ring, about the size of a Frisbee and made entirely of blue, sizzling light. It was thin on the outer edges, but thicker in the middle. She hadn’t had a chance to really look at it before.

  Aoi didn’t move. She didn’t want to do this. Sure, she agreed to this linked thing. But . . .

  “What if I hurt you?”

  Mulan laughed. When the giggles died down, she smiled. “Oh, not to worry. I can’t die if I’m already dead.”

  Well, she did have a bit of a point, didn’t she? “But you can still get hurt, can’t you?”

  Mulan shrugged. She didn’t care. “We’ll have to see. Now, come on.”

  Aoi had no choice. She had to do this. She ran at Mulan. She could do this. She had to. She just had to strike.

  And then Mulan was gone.

  “What?”

  Before she could make sense of anything, something—Mulan’s hand—tapped the back of her head. Aoi turned around.

  Mulan smiled at her. “You’re dead,” Mulan informed her in an almost whimsical tone. It was like this was just a game to her.

  “Dead?” Aoi didn’t get it.

  “If this was a real fight, you would be dead.”

  “Right . . .” But she had no idea what she’d even done wrong. Did Mulan expect her to figure it out on her own or something? But she knew nothing about fighting . . .

  I just have to try. It was all she could do.

  In that case, Aoi backed up and ran at Mulan again.

  She saw it that time. She saw Mulan pivot out of the way. She hadn’t gone back in the ring after all. That would have been cheating. Mulan was above that.

  She saw it, sure. But, for some reason, she couldn’t get her legs to move. Again, Mulan tapped the back of her head.

  “You’re dead again.”

  This pattern repeated several times, and each time Mulan would cheerf
ully announce Aoi’s death. After what felt like the hundredth time, Aoi willed the ring gone with a sigh. Her shoulders slumped. She was so frustrated; it was all she could do not to cry. “I can’t do this, Hua-san.”

  Mulan smiled reassuringly at her, resting her hand on Aoi’s shoulder. “Yes. You can.”

  “You keep dodging.” What did Mulan expect her to do?

  “That’s because I act and react. You only act.”

  Acting? Reacting? Aoi didn’t understand any of that. “What do you mean?”

  “When you run at me and try to hit me, you’re acting. But you don’t react after I react and dodge out of the way. I act when I tap you.”

  Oh, okay. That made sense. At least, Aoi thought it did.

  Aoi willed the ring back into existence. It was easier this time. “I want to try again.”

  “Of course.” Mulan’s smile grew. This was what she’d wanted.

  Mulan didn’t move. She stood still, eyes on Aoi. She was ready to react to whatever Aoi threw at her. She was ready to smack the back of Aoi’s head again.

  No way. Aoi wouldn’t be played for a fool. She would react. She had to. If not, she hadn’t learned a thing.

  Again, Aoi ran towards Mulan. And again, the warrior dodged. Aoi saw her dodge. But she wouldn’t stand still. Not again. She was sick and tired of the little taps to the back of her head.

  Her instincts took over and she ducked in a fluid motion, just like she did when she had saved Momoka. Aoi went under Mulan’s arm and shifted to the side, just as she’d seen Mulan do, and twirled around to face Mulan’s back. Her ring tapped the back of the warrior’s head.

  Aoi froze. Had she done it? Really? She stared down at the blue ring of light in confusion. She’d really done it? She’d hit the savior of China?

  Wait . . . She’d hit her! “Hua-san, are you hurt?”

  Mulan turned to her with a laugh. “Not at all. You didn’t want to hurt me, so you did not.”

  A chill went down Aoi’s spine. She hadn’t wanted to hurt those boys who were giving that girl a hard time. She’d told them so. But she did hurt them. She knocked one out and burned the other with her ring. She’d hurt them even though she said she didn’t want to.

  So what did that mean? That she did want to hurt them? The thought scared her.

  “Do you think maybe spirits are different?” Aoi pressed. “Maybe I just can’t hurt spirits.”

  Mulan cocked her head to the side and thought it over. “Yes,” she said. “Perhaps that’s it. I can’t say for sure right now, but I bet the village will have some answers.”

  Aoi breathed a sigh of relief. “What now?”

  “I think it best we continue. You still need to improve.”

  Aoi couldn’t argue with that. She needed all the practice she could get. “Of course!” she said with a nod. She was ready for this. She was ready for whatever came next.

  Chapter 7

  On a grey, cloudy day, Aoi left the classroom to pick up her bento box. Makoto had rushed off to meet his friends as usual, and Aoi made her slow way to the roof.

  The outside world was dark and dreary. It was the last thing Aoi wanted to look at, and she was worried that she’d get rained on out on the roof, but it was better than the cafeteria. She had tried sitting there again the previous week and hadn’t found a single table to sit with. She couldn’t even find Makoto and his friends. So to the roof she went, rain or shine.

  From the stairwell, she heard a loud commotion. It sounded like it was coming from the roof. There was yelling and thuds. Was it some kind of fight?

  Aoi paused before the door. Yes, there was definitely a fight going on out there. Someone could be in danger. This is what she was training for, wasn’t it? To help those in need? Still . . . Aoi thought of the only other person she had ever seen on the roof, and she was worried.

  “What are you waiting for, Arisawa-chan?” Mulan asked. “Heroes don’t hesitate. Go!”

  Mulan was right. Of course she was right. It was quiet on the other side of the door now. Aoi took a deep breath and readied herself to summon her weapon. She exhaled sharply and threw the door open.

  There were at least a dozen boys on the roof, and all of them were yankii. Aoi didn’t recognize most of them, even the underclassmen. The fight was over, and it was very clear who the winners were—the ones still wearing clothes.

  Half the boys, she realized to her horror, were stripped down to their underwear. One delinquent boy was standing by the roof’s edge, tossing the confiscated clothes over the side while his friends used black markers to draw on their enemies. Some wrote warnings; others simply drew things to embarrass them.

  Aoi recognized Tatuso Akabori as one of the boys drawing on his enemies. This must be his gang that she’d heard about. To be honest, Aoi wasn’t sure what to make of it. She felt . . . awkward. The upperclassmen were almost naked, after all! She could only imagine how humiliated they’d be when they woke up.

  The rooftop door slammed shut behind her, and the scene before her froze. Tatsuo looked up from where he was drawing something rather rude on an upperclassmen’s face. At first, he looked surprised. Then his brows furrowed.

  He got up off the ground and stalked over to her, his necklace catching a flash of light from the sun.

  “What the hell’re you doing here, kid?”

  Aoi jumped, dropping her lunch. “I—”

  “Goddamn idiot. Whatd’ya think would’ve happened if you came up here while we were still fighting?” His tall frame towered over her. He leaned down so he could look her in the eye.

  She could feel his seething anger and it made her squirm. She had no answer to give.

  Her gaze fell to the floor as he continued. “You think these bastards woulda just gone easy on you ’cause you’re a girl? You think they wouldn’t’ve kicked your ass or grabbed you up to do somethin’ worse? What are you, stupid?”

  He was all but yelling by the end of his tirade. The other yankii looked up from what they were doing without a sound.

  One of his friends spoke up. “What’s it matter to you, Aniki? She’s just some girl—”

  “Shut up!” Tatsuo glared at the boy. He looked at back at Aoi. “Didn’t you hear the fight? And you came anyway? You’re going to get yourself hurt like that, or killed. You shouldn’t be here.”

  Aoi’s eyes blurred with hot tears. “I—eat lunch here, and wanted to help, so I thought—”

  “Think better next time!” Tatsuo roared. “Go. Now.”

  She couldn’t hold it back anymore. The tears flowed freely down her cheeks. What was the point? She was a stupid crybaby with no sense.

  “I’m sorry . . .”

  With that, she fled, leaving her lunch abandoned on the school roof.

  Chapter 8

  The final bell couldn’t have been any more welcome. The moment it rang, Aoi packed her things and left the room, only stopping by her locker to grab her shoes.

  That was where Makoto caught up to her.

  “Hey! Arisawa-chan!”

  She wearily glanced at him. “Yeah?”

  “You okay?”

  “Not really.” She just wanted to get out of here. There had been so many yankii on that roof, and she didn’t want to risk running into any of them in the halls.

  “Wanna talk about it?”

  “No.” Her stomach rumbled loudly.

  Makoto eyed her. “Let’s get some food then, yeah? There’s a cute little café I know that I think you’d really like. It’ll cheer you up, I promise.”

  Aoi sniffed. “Aren’t you busy today?”

  Makoto shook his head. “Nope! This afternoon is all about you. Come on.”

  Well, she supposed a café didn’t sound that bad. Might actually cheer her up.

  Makoto switched his school shoes out for his regular ones, then grabbed her arm and led her out of the building.

  She followed him through the streets for several minutes in silence. He seemed perfectly at ease, but he kept a
firm grip on her arm. Aoi didn’t recognize where they were going, but she trusted Makoto. He was being so nice to her, like a true friend.

  Several streets later, she realized something didn’t seem quite right. This wasn’t the shopping district at all. It was the housing district—and not the clean and pretty part. The buildings looked darker somehow. More run-down. Aoi didn’t like it. “Where are we?” she asked.

  “A shortcut.” Makoto smiled at her. “It’s kind of a hole-in-the-wall place. This way.”

  A voice spoke from the darkness. “Damn, Senpai. Look at this.”

  Aoi froze, her grip on Makoto’s sleeve tightening. “Who was that?” She looked around just in time to see a group of boys step out of the shadows. She was pretty sure she’d seen a few of those boys earlier. Not good.

  Makoto laid a hand over her own. “Stay calm, Arisawa-chan.”

  “Stay calm? How am I supposed to stay calm? We’re gonna get mugged if we don’t do something.”

  “Then do something.” That wasn’t Makoto. It was Mulan.

  She was right. Makoto didn’t have the strength to fight all of these men at once. And, if she was normal, she wouldn’t have had the strength either. But she wasn’t normal. Aoi was Linked.

  In seconds, her ring materialized in her hands. Aoi glanced around warily, waiting for the first person to make a move. Act and react—that’s what Mulan taught her. She wouldn’t fail her now.

  The boys stood in awe of her weapon, if for only that moment. She didn’t blame them. Magic blue rings don’t typically appear. If she was in their shoes, she’d be pretty shocked too.

  But she wasn’t like them. She wasn’t a delinquent. And she could take them down.

  “Stand back, Azuki-kun,” Aoi told Makoto.

  One boy pulled out a switch blade and ran at Aoi, only for her to tumble under his blade and do a sweep kick. Mulan directed Aoi again as she fought, and the boy was down in moments.

  Another ran at her, metal pole in hand. Just as she’d been taught, Aoi pivoted around him and swung her ring horizontally.

  Mulan said, “Take out both of his arms!”

  With a cry, his arms went numb and fell to his knees. He was shaking.

 

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