by J D Astra
I jogged through the underbrush and past glowing flora until I reached a small clearing. A girl in skin-tight pants and a loose, silk shirt in the sparse moonlight. My heart thudded like a felled tree as I realized it was Hana.
Her muscles shimmered with black zo as she stepped, punched, twisted her wrists, and threw elbows, spun and kicked. Her form was meticulous; a mixture of ancient martial styles like Wing Chun, Hapkido, and Taekkyon. She was incredible.
Maeyoung’s angry, muffled, “Hey!” broke my attention, and Hana’s. She stopped dead in her tracks, spinning toward me.
“Who’s there?” Hana demanded, and I choked on my words. What could I say?
Hana swirled her arm through the air, launching a blast of purple munje from her palm that soared toward me. I fell back onto my ass and tried to skirt away, but the munje burst in a blinding explosion right over my face, and I cringed.
Weight fell onto my chest, and a hand grabbed my night shirt at the neck. “What were you doing?” Hana demanded, and I blinked away the starbursts in my eyes.
I groaned. “I heard fighting. I came to see if someone needed help.”
“No, what are you doing in the glade?” she asked with a black, zo-infused fist raised, ready to strike a hit that would surely knock me unconscious.
I stalled, trying to let my eyes readjust. “I was getting fresh air.”
“Then what’s in your hand? A recording device?” She pulled her fist back farther and twisted my shirt in her grip.
“No! No, I swear. I wasn’t recording you.”
She tightened her grip, and the neck of my shirt pinched my throat. “Then what is it? Why were you spying on me?”
Damn it. If I showed her, she could get me expelled. But I wanted her to believe me. I hadn’t been spying—not the whole time, at least. I opened my hand and Maeyoung sprung to life once more.
The tiny ghost launched into an angry verbal assault. “How dare you cover me again? Don’t you know what I am, who I am? What gives you the right to put your sweaty, pubescent palm on me?” The ghost growled in her tiny voice, and Hana sat back on my stomach, releasing my shirt.
“It’s a ghost. You have a ghost?” she asked, breathless.
“I just fixed her tonight and needed somewhere to be alone.”
Hana reached toward Maeyoung, and the ghost swatted at her fingers uselessly.
Suddenly, I was fully aware of Hana in skin-tight pants and a loose shirt falling off her shoulders, sitting on my chest. “Can I get up, please?” I asked, trying not to sound desperate.
Hana rolled off me, keeping her eyes on Maeyoung. “She looks smart, not like those ones in skimpy clothes selling coffee at the edges of the kingdom, or the ones we use to welcome guests into the Rising Phoenix.”
“Because I am smart. Hyper-intelligent, self-aware inorganic being, like I said. And just like I said, it is a criminal offense to be in possession of me. Return me to the Institute at once.” The ghost put her hands on her hips and stomped a high-heeled foot.
“What do you think it’s for?” Hana asked, her eyes trapping me in her gaze.
I shrugged. “She just came online. I’m not sure. She said she was at some south koreanstitute of technology.”
“Hello, I’m right here. I’m from the South Korean National Institute of Technology, and you need to return me.”
Hana gasped. “Wow. It’s really responsive. I’ve never seen a ghost that responsive.”
I stammered, grasping at anything to keep the conversation going. “So, you like ghosts?”
She nodded.
Maeyoung growled. “Excuse me, children, but what is going on here? I’ve told you several times that being in possession of me is a criminal offense, and you don’t seem to care. You do know that you’ll be taken to prison for life for stealing me, right?”
“I didn’t steal you. My father and I found you in the ruins outside our home. You’re a salvage, and that’s completely legal,” I informed the silly ghost.
Hana grimaced. “Yeah, but having it here at school is another thing.”
My eyes bulged. “You’re going to tell?”
She scoffed. “No. Just as long as you don’t tell.”
“Tell what?” I asked, confused.
Her intense gaze narrowed on me. “I forgot; you don’t know anything.”
I balked. “I know things.”
“Oh my,” Maeyoung whispered, her petite voice fearful.
I looked down and saw the ghost staring straight up. “What’s wrong, Mae?” I asked, worried she was shorting out.
“The stars. They’re definitely not where they’re supposed to be.” Mae looked to me with a horrified expression. “What year is it?”
I stammered. “It’s the sixteenth year of the King Il-suk.”
Mae put her hand to her chest and appeared to be breathing heavily, though I knew she didn’t breathe air like us. She whispered, “I don’t know what that means.”
“Calm down. What’s going on?” Hana asked as she lowered her face to look at Mae better.
Mae squatted down, then fell to her knees, her light projection flickering. “I think it’s been a very long time.”
Light flared at the edge of the grove, and I slapped my hand over the artifact. I conjured ma munje and wove my way through the highway until I found the power diode and disconnected it.
Hana jumped to her feet and pulled me behind a tree, pressing my back against the bark as she watched in the direction of the light. She swirled purple ry munje through the air with practiced ease. The magic settled down over us, and we were cloaked in darkness.
Footsteps crunched dry pine needles nearby, and the light grew brighter. I held my breath as I watched Hana’s amethyst eyes track her target. The heat of her body against mine swelled in my chest, and I felt the urge to put my hands around her, hold her close and protect her.
“No one,” a female voice said. “Looks like someone was practicing here recently.”
“Come on, they’re probably back in bed by now,” replied a male.
Hana’s eyes followed as the light retreated through the trees. When it had been dark for several minutes, she stepped away from me and dropped her glimmer.
“You won’t tell anyone that you saw me here tonight,” she said, pointing menacingly.
I shrugged. “Why would I?”
Her brow furrowed and she stammered, “I... I don’t know. But as long as you’re silent, your rule breaking is safe with me.”
I nodded. “Deal.”
She turned away, fists clenched as she headed toward her lodge. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted to know more about her, I wanted to be around her.
“Wait,” I called, and she turned back. “Don’t you want to talk to the ghost again?”
She looked over her shoulder. “They’ll be looking for us. It’s not safe for a few days. I’ll meet you back here next week.”
“Next week?” I asked, flabbergasted.
She crossed her arms over her thin chest covering, and I kept myself from glancing down. “Do you want to get caught with that and have it taken away, or get expelled?”
I sighed. “Okay. Next week, same time, right here.”
A playful smile graced her lips. “It’s a date.”
Before I could say anything else, she leapt from the clearing, leaving contrails of black zo in her wake.
Wow.
I couldn’t stop smiling as I walked back to my lodge and tucked the disabled Mae into the bento box disguise. It was early, and tomorrow would start with Zo Strengthening I, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Hana. It’s a date.
Chapter 15
THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS crawled by like syrup in winter. Hana kept her communication with me to a minimum, as if we didn’t know each other, and it was maddening. I wanted to talk to her about Mae and what information the ghost might have. She seemed so responsive, unlike any other ghost I’d talked to. I knew she had to be something special.
I didn’t
tell Cho or Yuri, though I trusted them more than Hana. I couldn’t explain why. It was as if Hana and I had something together, and if I shared it with them, it wouldn’t be special to us.
This sent pangs of guilt through my chest, but there was nothing I could do. Explaining why Hana knew about the ghost would lead to more questions, and I’d promised not to tell anyone that I’d seen her that night. So, I kept our secret.
I had the urge several times to turn Mae on and talk to her myself, but knew that if I did that, it wouldn’t be fair for Hana to miss whatever she had to say. So, I waited. The days crawled by, until finally it was the rest day.
Cho and I were headed up to breakfast when he veered off the path and headed for a small pagoda near the entrance.
“Where are you going?” I asked, eager to get through breakfast, lunch, and dinner so I could meet Hana in the clearing.
Cho laughed. “The mail. It’s been two weeks. Our families have probably written.”
Oh, right. I’d gotten so caught up with the ghost and Hana. How could I have forgotten about my family? I followed Cho as hot self-hatred bubbled inside me. Why hadn’t I sent them a message? How inconsiderate!
The postmaster was waiting behind the counter when we arrived in the tiny building. “Names?”
“Pak, Cho-bin,” Cho said as he approached the dark-wood counter.
The woman swirled her hand through the air and gold munje drifted from her fingers into a device on the desk. The projection sprung to life in green light and she scrolled through. “No messages. Sorry.”
“Law, Jiyong,” I said as I stepped up beside Cho.
She swept her fingers upward again, and the list flickered as names zoomed by in the projection area. “You have a letter,” she said with a bright grin.
She turned away and grabbed a small metal cylindrical disc. Her fingers leaked more gold munje as she extracted the information from the device in front of her and loaded it into the one in her palm.
“Did they send a written letter?” I asked, curious what she was doing.
The postmaster nodded. “Yes, but due to storage reasons we copy all the information digitally and recycle the physical copy.”
“Oh.” I said, sadness souring the happy moment. I would’ve liked to see my mother’s handwriting or the little drawings Minjee always added to outgoing letters, no matter their destination.
The postal woman extended the metal disc to me. “Have a great day.”
“Thank you,” I bowed before taking the offered message.
We walked from the mail-house to the main pagoda for breakfast, and my hand kept opening and closing around the message in my pocket. Cho shuffled his feet a bit. I could tell he was down about not getting a message from his family.
“Want to read the letter with me at breakfast?” I asked, hoping this would make him feel a bit better.
He shrugged. “If you want.”
I elbowed him. “Of course. I want to write them back and tell them about school, my friends. I’ll need someone to proofread it. My typing isn’t particularly good.”
“Jiyong?” Cho asked, his brow furrowed as he stopped. The wind rustled his dobok and orange leaves blew across the white stone path to the main pagoda.
“What is it?” I asked, my levity disappearing in light of his serious posture.
“What happened last week when you got up to go to the bathroom?” Cho asked as he stared at the ground.
I felt nervous energy surge through my leg. It wanted to bounce, but I held it still. “I... went to the bathroom?”
He didn’t look convinced. “For an hour?”
My throat was tight. I had lied to my friend. But I had to keep Hana’s secret, whatever it was. Maybe if I told him part of the story and left out seeing Hana, that would make it okay?
I looked around. There were students walking back and forth across the grounds, people passing us by. Anyone could overhear our conversation. “Come with me back to the lodge really quick.”
Cho followed, arms crossed as we made our way back to our room. It was empty when we got there, so I pulled the disguised bento out of its hiding place and dropped the glimmer on it. I opened the locked box and pulled the disc with Mae free.
“So, you hide some contraband outside of school and bring some in with you?” Cho asked, his face unsurprised.
“It was a gift from my father. He told me if I were going to master my core, I’d need to fix this relic. Well, I fixed it the other night using parts from my schedule... which is still broken, can I get this week’s passcode?”
Cho rolled his eyes, but there was a tiny smile on his lips. “So, what is it?”
I grinned, my heart beating faster. “It’s a ghost, and she seems so smart—smarter than any ghost I’ve ever talked to. I’ve only talked to a few, but she’s like a person. Her name is Maeyoung, but I’ve just been calling her Mae.”
Cho smiled. “Can we talk to her now?”
I grimaced, sucking air through my teeth. I’d promised to meet Hana tonight in the clearing, and turning Mae on right here could get me expelled. Damn. “Uh, I don’t know. I don’t want to get expelled.” I put her back in the box and swirled ry munje over it until the bento disguise reappeared. I stuffed it away in my drawer and turned back to Cho. “I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay, I get it. How about next time you go to the bathroom I’ll go with you?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, sure.” What was I saying? “Wait, I mean, what if we took it off school grounds next rest day?”
He quirked a brow. “Next rest day?”
“Yes. I just don’t want to get caught.” My leg bounced, and I tried not to look anxious.
Cho bobbed his head incredulously, but it seemed he was placated for now. “Okay. Let’s get breakfast.”
We were quiet on our way to the main pagoda, but when Yuri spotted us and waved us over to her table, the conversation began. She and Cho were avidly discussing the assignment for Li Harmony I, and while I wanted to join in, I kept touching the message in my pocket, wondering what it was.
When we’d all finished eating, I set the disc on the table. Cho nudged my shoulder when he saw it. “Open it!”
Gold ma munje trickled down my arm from my reservoir, and the device came to life.
Brother! You haven’t sent word, but we assume you’re still alive and well. Maybe a girl has caught your eye and taken all your attention.
My cheeks flushed with heat, and I scrolled down with a flick of my wrist. Yuri laughed, but thankfully, she reserved her blunt comment this time.
We’re all doing well at home, or at least as well as we can be without our big brother. Daegon is working on the relic you left him, but he mostly screams at it. Do-hwan has been helping around the house more, taking over a lot of your chores, for which I’m so grateful. Suyi is excelling in school, and soon she’ll surpass even me.
Minjee and Mother are two peas in a pod, tending the garden by hand, and the goat, and the chickens. With me, Suyi, Daegon, and Do-hwan at Primary, there’s a lot left for them to do on their own. Life without munje doesn’t seem so bad some days. They smile a lot, but I know they miss you.
School is fine for me... I’m worried. Mother is coughing more and eating less. She looks paler than usual but claims all is well.
I cut off my flow of ma munje and pulled the disc off the table, stuffing it in my pocket. Cho and Yuri were silent as the other students chatted, slurped, and clinked their bowls around us. Eun-bi’s words replayed again and again in my head as my throat constricted.
I’d left them behind so I could go to school. How could I do that?
“So, your mom and Minjee can’t use magic?” Yuri asked.
I nodded.
She drummed her hands on the table. “Your mom is sick?”
I dipped my head again, the lump in my throat growing as heat came to my cheeks. My vision blurred, and I fought back the anger in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” Cho said as he
patted my back.
I sniffed hard and sat up straighter, not allowing any of the tears gathering in my eyes to make it to my cheeks. “It’s why I’m here. I want a better future for them. If I can meet the right people, score well, get a good apprenticeship in the kingdom over the summer, maybe I can give them the life they deserve.”
Yuri grinned. “I was right. You are a decent person.”
Cho straightened and puffed up his chest. “I’m here to help my family farm. I want to get better at tending crops so we can be really successful.”
Yuri bobbed her head. “Cool, bro.”
I pulled the message out of my pocket and brought it back to life.
But don’t worry big brother, we’re doing okay. You put plenty of money away for us and I’m going to take mother to the clinic soon. I’m sure we can get everything back to normal until you come home.
I hope with all my heart that you’re happy, and that Bastion Academy is everything you thought it would be. You’re the best of us, and we wish you the best.
~Your little sis, Eun-bi
I put the message away and sighed. There was no use worrying about them. Worrying is a waste of energy, Do-hwan’s distant voice in my head reminded me. I would write back, and hopefully Mother would get better. That was all I could do.
We decided on having seconds, cleaning out the buffet as the kitchen staff came to collect the dishes. One woman with a loosely tied bun helped scrape the last of the rice into my bowl with a grin. “You’re always coming back for more, and there’s hardly anything left. Is there anything you liked that we could make more of next time?” she asked as she tucked the metal tin against her hip and under her arm.
I shook my head. “Everything is wonderful. I’ve never tasted such flavorful food in my life.”
She smiled kindly. “I’ll make sure there’s an extra pot of rice and curry for lunch.”
“Thank you.” I bowed deeply, and she chuckled.
We finished seconds and headed out to the yard for some mid-morning sun. Cho showed us how to care for our plants, which were turning out to be sweet basil. Yuri’s stem was several centimeters tall by the end of the hour, and I had two little leaves pushing up out of the dirt. It was better than nothing, I reminded myself. I didn’t have to be perfect at li, just good enough.