by J D Astra
I took quick, shallow breaths to compensate for my pounding heart and my painful lungs. Why on Jigu had I allowed myself to go to class looking like this? Woong-ji could’ve done a much better job than this, if only I’d asked her!
“Remember that whole reaching out for help and listening to the people around you stuff Woong-ji was saying?” Mae asked with amused superiority.
‘I haven’t had enough torment yet. Please tell me again how smart I am in my own way,’ I snarled the words at her.
She sighed. “Sorry, Jiyong. I was just... trying to be funny.”
‘Well, you were being rude. Let’s practice some more of that privacy pretending.’ I found a seat near the front of the class and turned my eyes forward. My head throbbed so hard I thought my skull might crack open. I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore it.
“Let us begin by deepening the breath,” Ni-ok said as she took her seat on the dais and crossed her legs.
Deep breathing was a disaster. I ended up wheezing audibly more than once, inciting sniggers from the students next to me. Every whisper in the room seemed to be aimed at my back.
When I thought the class couldn’t get any worse, Ni-ok told us to practice massage on each other for the final fifteen minutes. We were to find pressure points and release the used up munje from our muscles so we could recycle it. Of course, who other than Shin-soo did I see striding my way when Hana plopped down beside me.
Wonderful.
Her glare was as cold as a howling winter wind, but that failed to put out the fire in my gut. She could’ve let me suffer fifteen minutes of Shin-soo’s physical torment, but she came over to deliver her own brand of torture.
“What were you thinking?” she hissed as she motioned for me to turn around.
The heat in my chest boiled up with my words. “I was thinking it would’ve been really nice if you had actually looked after my family while I was in a coma.”
“Jiyong!” Mae admonished.
There was a sharp stab to my lower rib, and pain radiated around to my sternum. I groaned through gritted teeth, liking Hana a little bit less than I had a few seconds ago. I’d been wrong when I thought she was going to deliver me from physical pain. No. She wanted to see me destroyed on both fronts.
Hana’s tone was scornful. “I sent everything you earned.”
She twisted her thumb, and a rush of tingling pain relief surged through me. The throbbing subsided in that rib, and I was able to breathe a little deeper.
“Why did you do a zo brawl?” she asked, her voice strained.
Despite the cool relief in my ribs, the fire in my stomach raged on. “I tried to do a bot fight. The closest one is too far out to save my sister from becoming a slave. I had to brawl.”
“Idiot,” she mumbled to herself, and I gritted my teeth. What the hell did she know?
I turned toward her and looked her dead in the face. “Miss Jun, have you ever had to suffer for anything in your life? Did your mother slowly become munje inert before your very eyes, and there was nothing you could do to save her?”
Mae whispered something to me, but the words were muffled by the rushing, pounding pain in my head. The vitriol blasted from my mouth like an active volcano. “Did your father leave your crippled mother to fend for herself with six mouths to feed when you were only eight? Have you ever known hunger, or seen it in your baby sister’s eyes and known that you—an eight-year-old child—had to do whatever you could to save your family from starvation? How did your life go Hana, please, tell me the story!”
Tears were streaming down her face when the red left my vision. She stood, and suddenly I saw the eyes of the whole class on her, then me. Oh no. What had I done? She rushed for the door of the classroom, and it slammed back with a bang.
I jumped to my feet to follow her. “Hana, wait!” I called after her when I made it out the door, but she was already running for the main entrance. “Listen, please—”
“No, you listen!” She turned back, hand raised in an accusing point. “Yes, I know how hard your life has been! Eun-bi and I mailed each other every day for four weeks while you were in that coma. I know what you’re living through, but you don’t have any idea what I’m living through!
“Just because my family doesn’t look broken like yours, doesn’t mean it isn’t! I wish I had a little sister who loved me so much she sent fresh flowers from the garden while I was in the hospital! I wish I had a father so determined to not give up on the love of his life that he had to abandon his family to search for the cure. I know how big a weight he put on your shoulders, and how hard you’ve had to fight for everything you have.” Tears poured from her eyes, and my heart broke.
“I know who you are, Jiyong. And you have no idea who I am.” Her eyes ran dry, and she looked at me with a stony expression.
“I want to know you, please. I want to understand. What I said was ridiculous. I don’t think you’re not suffering...” It just wasn’t as bad as mine.
She took two steps closer and gazed into my soul through my eyes. “You were never a very good liar.” She turned on her heel and sped away.
“Hana. Hana!” She ignored me, and I groaned. What an amazing idiot I was.
“I really have thought Hana’s been trying to help you all along,” Mae offered, and I closed my eyes against the skull-splitting pain in my head. The darkness behind my eyelids didn’t make it feel any better.
‘That’s great, Mae! I’m so glad you can see the future but decide to keep all that information to yourself, because why make my life a little easier?’
“If you weren’t being such a child, maybe you could hear me when I was speaking,” Mae replied coolly, and I pulled in three as-deep-as-I-could-go breaths.
I wanted to listen. I wanted to hear what she was saying, but the heat in my chest swelled again. ‘And why should I listen to someone who calls me stupid with a backhanded comment. Maybe your advice was just beyond my intellect.’
The warmth swelled in me as Mae’s silence dragged on. My face burned with injustice as I stared at the wall, standing in the halls of Bastion. The throbbing in my head intensified until little starbursts appeared in my vision.
‘Well?’ I demanded of her.
“Your vitals are all significantly out of rhythm. Something is very wrong. The concussion...” She trailed off, then started again like she’d been struck by lightning. “It’s altering your temperament, causing adrenal fatigue. Your emotions are all amplified.”
I chuckled lowly. ‘I see. So, the injustice I’ve felt isn’t that bad, it’s just my concussion making my life seem difficult.’
“Jiyong, that’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying your inability to control your anger—”
‘Great medical assessment Mae. You’re a pro. Seriously, why don’t you just switch off for a while and save us both some energy.’
There was no reply. I waited, my heart hammering for whatever response she had to throw at me. But no response came.
Fine. Good. She took my advice for once. And now I could get back to my day completely unperturbed by a nosy ghost who was always trying to subvert my choices and my life.
The soft gong to indicate the end of class rang through the halls, and the door opened behind me. Students walked past, their eyes flickering away as I looked at them. I shook my head and grabbed my bag from the empty class. They would all forget soon enough when some other ridiculous scandal filled the halls with noise. My ruined face and Hana’s tears would fade from the spotlight before I knew it. I just had to keep moving forward.
Chapter 34
I WALKED INTO THE MAIN pagoda, the nip of winter now a full-on bite. It had been almost six weeks since my brawl beating—a distant memory, unlike Hana’s tears and Mae’s judgement. Despite my meditation, my practiced calm, and everything else I tried to push away those crying amethyst eyes and Mae’s sharp sting of betrayal, I couldn’t.
I’d sent my earnings and a plea for deferral to Eun-bi’s debtor with a promise
of an extra ten percent on top of what she owed if they could wait six weeks. While the weight of Eun-bi’s imminent enslavement had been lifted from my shoulders with their acceptance, a new weight of my dire need to win the gauntlet weighed down on me.
Those six weeks were nearly up, and the debtor was sending frequent messages, reminding us of the money due. My mind was emptier than ever with Mae’s silence, and the fear of failure filled it up.
I sat down for breakfast and devoured the first serving before the line at the buffet had cycled all the way through. I grabbed another round of the most bitter, flavorless food, hoping that it was all aiding me on my quest to strengthen my core.
Cho looked up from his meal. “How’s it going today? Anything from Mae?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know if she’s on anymore.”
A twisting pang of guilt swelled in my stomach, but the cold squeeze of abandonment smothered it. I had apologized to Mae for a whole week, every day, every chance I got. Nothing in return. What if she was truly shut down?
“Are you nervous?” Cho asked, and I snapped from thought to see my leg bouncing under the table.
I sighed. “I’m fine.”
Cho’s face dropped, and he returned to his meal. After a moment, he looked up at me again. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed the last bite of bitter melon and took a sip of jasmine tea. It reminded me of home, of Eun-bi and Suyi’s garden, and my heart ached for it. “I’ve been better,” I finally admitted.
Cho nodded. “Is there anything I can do?”
I chuckled darkly. “Can you undo the last five months?”
He grimaced. “You want to undo our friendship? Yuri and Hana? Fixing Mae? Your apprenticeship with Woong-ji? You’re so lucky to have that.”
He was right, of course, but my bitter heart blackened at the idea of undoing all of Hana. I didn’t want to think about her. I didn’t want thoughts of her to ever have existed in me in the first place.
Why had I been so stupid?
“I don’t want to undo those things. I’m sorry, Cho. I’m... worried about the fight. I’m worried about Eun-bi.”
He put his hand on my shoulder. Half of me couldn’t stand the thoughtful touch, while the other half demanded I share more, connect more, and get through the pain burning my mind. It was just complaining. There was no point to it. I would fight in the gauntlet, and I would be ready or I wouldn’t be. Just twenty-four more hours.
“Thanks,” I said as he removed his hand. “I’ve done the best I could for the last few weeks. My body and core are stronger than they’ve ever been, and I wouldn’t want to give that up, either, unless it meant saving Eun-bi.”
Cho gave a determined nod. “You can save her without giving any of it up. I believe in you.”
A lump swelled in my throat, and I gave him a deep bow. I stood. “Thank you, Cho. I value our friendship.”
He smiled sadly. “You have other friends, too.”
My gaze drifted to Yuri and Hana as they smiled over something another girl said. Hana’s cold gaze snapped to me, and I held her stare for only a second before it burned me through. I looked back to Cho. “I don’t think I do.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he uttered before returning to his meal.
I clenched my jaw. How could he know what they were thinking, and what they felt? Sure, Yuri was still my friend, but she’d been spending all her time with Hana, who definitely hated my guts.
Deservedly. I had minimized her pain because I thought mine was worse. I had talked to her like a complete jerk. I didn’t know anything about her life, and I had passed judgement as if I did. I had...
I rubbed my eyes and sighed. This was not the time to be rehashing all the stupid things I’d said and done. “I’ll see you in class,” I said and took off for the washing station.
Zo Utilization was another day of improving blood circulation by using pressure points and munje in conjunction. I took note when Ni-ok mentioned the same was true the opposite way, that there were specific pressure points on the body that would disable the flow of munje. We wouldn’t learn those points until our second year, but knowing they existed would be a great ally in the duels to come with Shin-soo next year—if he made it.
Yuri and Cho laughed and joked through our Li Harmony class, and for a while, I forgot about the gauntlet. It was great to be free from the worry of tomorrow’s problems, yesterday’s problems... I wished I could’ve stayed there in Li Harmony, joking with my friends.
Zo Calm was far less calm than I’d wanted. Shin-soo’s gaze seemed to bore a hole through the back of my head as class dragged on. When I looked back, there was a devious smile playing on his lips. Something was coming my way, almost certainly. I didn’t know why Shin-soo would warn me with such an obvious grin and glare, but I appreciated the heads-up. I spent the remainder of the class focusing on zo cycling and storing to prepare myself for the inevitable duel coming my way.
Ry Detection was moved to the snowy terrace due to some unfortunate accident in the second-year’s Li Alchemy class next door. The mixing of oils and essences were a delicate process, which was why it was reserved for older students. One misstep could create an acidic explosion or knockout gas.
The terrace was blanketed in soft, white flakes as we made our way out. I missed the snowy days in the little kitchen making fish stew with my mother or making snow fortresses with my siblings. This day was a perfect reflection of those days not long ago. Snow wasn’t common in Busa-nan with the Weather Patrol helping to keep the skies clear, but I was grateful this storm had sprung up unexpected.
Shimmers of light caught my eye, and I looked down from the softly falling flakes to see Hana twirling through it. She swept her feet across the ground, kicking the powder up into the air, and twisted her hands with blue munje as she pulled the snow along with her dance. I had never seen her play, not like this. I’d seen her practice, but this was joy. Perhaps she’d never seen snow—real snow, at least.
“Where is she?” a distant shrill voice caught my attention, and Hana’s dance jerked to a stop. Her lips mouthed the word, “Mother,” and she shivered as her eyes widened with horror.
“I said, Where is she?” the furious woman repeated.
A male’s raised voice replied. “Wansil-yu Jun, class is in session, you can’t—”
A slap rang out, cutting him off, and we all looked toward the main gate. Wansil-yu was used for royalty, or those who were close enough to be considered as such. Who was Hana’s family, really?
An elegant woman in a crimson silk dress flowed down the path, tailed by four burly men in black doboks emblazoned with a golden phoenix. I looked back to Hana whose eyes stayed fixed on the woman gliding across the snow-dusted pathway.
When wansil-yu Jun disappeared behind the edge of the iron railing, I thought she’d gone into the main pagoda. A second later, she popped over the ledge, her fur-lined coat ruffling with the wind of her acceleration. Her golden high-heeled feet glowed black with zo as she landed on the terrace with a delicate poof that sent snowflakes rushing away from her.
“Jun! You’re coming home, right now!” the woman ordered as she stopped a few meters out from the class. This all seemed showy and unnecessary. If she’d wanted to pull Hana from school, she could’ve done anything other than this. She certainly was in the entertainment business.
The ry instructor approached Hana’s mother with an appeasing smile. “Forgive me, wansil-yu Jun, but now is not an appropriate time to—”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Her words cut through the air like the sharpest knives, sending unease through me that forced me to drop my head. The sensation in my stomach was a ry spell for subservience. I could smell her munje on me, just the same cold tingling as Hana’s, but stronger, with ruthless intent.
Hana took a few steps forward, and I sucked in a breath. Was she going to abandon her dream that easily? My mind’s eye flooded with her tearful rejection of me, and I heard the fear in her voice as s
he talked about her ruined plans. She needed an apprenticeship, like me, to survive on her own if she was going to break from her parents.
She had no other support to follow her dream, and so she had to follow it from the shadows. But the lights were up, the shade cast off, and Hana had to choose the uncertainty of forging ahead without a plan or surrendering to her mother’s will.
“Hana, stop,” I blurted, heat filling my cheeks. Hana looked to me with genuine fear in her eyes, and my gut churned. I was glad I hadn’t had thirds at lunch. Had I just landed myself in a predicament I couldn’t talk my way out of?
Chapter 35
THE WOMAN IN RED—HANA’S mother—glided toward me. “You’re the boy from outer-city she told us about, aren’t you? Ji-gong was it?”
Correcting her could’ve been a terrible mistake, so I shallowly bowed instead.
Mother Jun sneered. “We’ve heard all about your little coma and your needy family. I didn’t know why Hana would want to throw money from her inheritance away on ganhan like you or your filthy rat siblings, but now I see it.” She leaned in close, and I resisted the urge to back away from her as the warmth in my cheeks spread down into my chest to fill me with strength. Hana’s mother had eyes like golden fire, and her gaze raked over me with vicious intent.
Her red painted lips twitched in a malicious leer, and she whispered, “You’re just a pretty face who thought you could manipulate my daughter into giving you my family’s hard-earned money. I’m glad we didn’t waste a single guli on your sick mother.”
I gritted my teeth and looked to Hana. She’d tried to get her mother to send my family money?
“Look at me!” Mother Jun gripped my chin and turned my face back to hers. My teeth hurt from how hard I bit down to keep my mouth shut. “You will never—ever—be good enough for the likes of my daughter.”
Whispers from the other students slipped through the air, and though I heard none of them, I felt their intent as I honed my ry. Some wanted to see me stand up to her. Some thought I was getting put in my proper place. One wished I would prove her wrong.