BA3 - Chapter 25

I floated on my back, paddling every few seconds between looking at the horizon and firing a little ry flare of green into the sky. A boat was on its way, but being out over open water was too uncomfortable for me to not want to move. Mae was keeping watch for disturbances in the water below us, and alerting me to anything that might be dangerous—which she’d been silent about for too many minutes.

“Still nothing. Just fish,” she said with a bored tone, but my anxiety didn’t cease.

I knew what kinds of monsters lurked in the deep, and not just my former father. Creatures that would wrap me up in hundreds of meters of tentacles and drag me into the depths to feast on me alive. Things that could bite me in half with a single chomp. Some that could shock me to death, or deal lethal dosages of toxin into my system, and more.TK_Nalkas—[JH1] the god essence of the sea and eternal enemy of Jigu—was dangerous. We all knew it.

“Stop it!” Mae yelled, breaking my thought. “You’ll worry us both to death. Just look at the sky and paddle.”

I took a deep breath and did as she ordered. The clouds had parted to reveal a sparkling starlit array I wanted so much to share with Hana. This was just the thing we’d been missing out on for months. Training, day in and day out—then the constant worry about whether we’d be discovered—this trip was supposed to be fun for students like me. We were supposed to learn about another culture and help mend the wartime bonds. What would’ve, could’ve, and should’ve been was not. We were here to spy on a powerful man—one I wasn’t so certain was in the wrong anymore.

TK_[JH2] Dokun wanted to limit fifth level munje and above only, and not even wipe it out entirely. He wanted to make sure that dangerous people didn’t flood the streets with mayhem and destruction. He wanted to protect people from danger, and register those who’d exceeded the limit.

I could understand that. I wanted to protect my family, Hana, and my friends. I wanted to protect my town, my country, and everyone who had ever wished for a better live like me. There were so many strong people who would do harm for their own selfish desires, never thinking of the damage they could be doing to real people who breathed and suffered.

Images of my father played in my mind’s eye in rapid succession. What felt like a hundred years ago he handed me Mae’s disc—the one imbedded in my chest—then he kissed me on the head as he said goodbye. Hiro in the garden, holding a knife to my mother’s throat, then gripping me by the neck. Then in the hall of the Valerian as water swept him away, and above the craft as water poured out its sides.

I shut my eyes against the barrage of memories and paddled on. The sounds of shouting and water splashing against the sides of boats grew louder in my ears as I went on. Finally, after what felt like a frigid lifetime of waiting, I was pulled from the water.

Hana hugged me close, her cheek warm against mine. “I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered.

Bile turned in my stomach as I remembered my father’s words. They had lured me into the water to have me taken away. I knew Hana didn’t want me here—at risk—but I didn’t think she’d go so far to get me away.

“Good to know you still want me here,” I managed between exhausted gasps.

Her eyes narrowed on me. “What?”

Dokun came around from the steering room. “Jiyong, are you alright?”

I gave a single nod in reply.

“What happened?” Woong-ji asked, dropping to a knee beside me.

There were Enjiho all around, their cameras pointed down, watching me. There was nothing I could say without putting my friends and mentor at risk.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

“Give him some air, for Jigu’s sake,” Dokun said as he made broad gestures to those crouching over me. The bots retreated a few paces, leaving me with just Hana, Woong-ji, and Dokun. Then, the Enjiho got to work piloting us back to shore.

“When we declared this an emergency, she refused to board the train back to Anbura without you,” Dokun said as he gestured to Hana. When we made eye contact, he winked and nodded—as if to say I’d done a good job. Numbness inked out from the center of my chest. I couldn’t feel the worry of everything that had happened, nor the happiness from the warmth of Hana’s hands cradling my back.

I couldn’t feel anything.

A slight shimmer of distortion engulfed me, and strings of connection looped back around Dokun. He was doing the same feeling steeling the Grandmaster had done to me last year. If he felt what I felt, could he know what I knew?

Like the betrayal.

Hana, Yuri, and whoever else had worked with Ko-nah to get me to my father. They wanted to steal me away from the land and keep me from fulfilling my purpose.

Isolation.

There was no one left I could trust. Everyone had lied to me, and there was no telling who I could trust anymore.

I catalogued my feelings with a strange detachment, then filed them away. Hana helped me to stand and pulled the water from my hair and body suit. When I was dry, we went to sit at the front of the ship.

Woong-ji and Dokun stayed up top. The wind rustled their clothes as they talked among themselves about something serious. I turned my attention back to Kokyu, the towering city of neon brilliance, stark against the navy sky.

Hana slid her arm across my back and tucked her face into the crook of my neck. “What happened?”

I eyed the Enjiho, not far off. I hadn’t enough energy to shroud us in ry. “You’ve never wanted me here.”

“Before you go head-hunting, just tell me what happened?” Her grip on my shoulder tightened, and became less friendly. The purple-silver haze of disruption glowed in a small arch around just Hana and me. She’d gotten better at projecting her protection fields.

“You collaborated with Ko-nah to get me into my father’s hands, didn’t you?” I asked, my voice even and calm.

She looked confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Stop playing dumb. Hiro knew you and Yuri by name. He said you helped him.”

“I wouldn’t ever,” she whispered, aghast. It was easy to see her emotion was fake. It was all just a show for the Enjiho. That was fine. I didn’t want Hana in danger. I didn’t want her making choices that would take away my agency, either, but I loved her still.

I sighed. “You’ve lied for a living for years and I’ve grown accustomed to it. I know when you know something you’re not letting on.”

“I…” she trailed off, then looked up to the captain’s hold. She pressed her forehead against my shoulder. “I just want you to live.”

“And I want you to live,” I said, pained. “But I wouldn’t have had you kidnapped just to keep you safe.”

Hana looked away to the long-set sun. The neons of Kokyu came alive in the dark of night, and it was beautiful. I’d never seen such a big, bright city—not even the heart of Busa-nan. Little trains zipped about here and there, ferrying passengers home, or out for excitement. Civilized Kokyu was a wonder.

TK_Images [JH3] of the terrorist who destroyed the train depot filled up the space between breaths. His sleek eye coverings that hid his identity, but not his smiling expression. He enjoyed what he was doing, and would do it again I was sure.

No, Kokyu still had a problem… one Dokun was trying to fix. What if he wasn’t the evil behind everything bad? Mae’s apprehension swirled at the edges of my consciousness. She didn’t know either.

“What if our place isn’t here,” Mae whispered to me. “What if they’re right, and everyone would be better off if we left?”

‘I couldn’t trust Hiro to do as he said he would, you know that. He could’ve been coercing me to go back to Busa-nan just to lure out Minjee, or some other plot. We can’t be too careful when it comes to their safety.’

“What about our safety?” She asked.

I took a deep breath. Hana snuggled against me tighter. I felt her lip trembling against my neck. Was she remorseful for what she’d done—or maybe sad it hadn’t worked out as she wanted? Why had she trusted Ko-nah in the first place?

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her breath tickled my skin, as did her tears.

I scoffed. “You wouldn’t have to be, if you’d just told me the truth.”

“I wanted to,” she said, her voice breaking with anguish. I knew it was the truth. “Dokun is dangerous—”

“Is he?” I asked, pulling away to look at her. “From what I’ve seen, he’s been doing a lot to help Kokyu, to make thing better here.”

“But it’s all fake,” Hana said, her brow pinched with worry. “He’s making you see what he wants you to see.”

A hundred replies swam through my mind. She was calling me blind—duped? She was the one who’d listened to Ko-nah, a known traitor. Despite my anger toward her, I pulled Hana back into my embrace. I didn’t want the Enjiho, or anyone else, thinking we were distressed.

“There are so many different truths flowing around this situation, how can we discern reality?”

“Can’t you trust me?” she asked.

I nodded. “Before this, yes.”

She squeezed her arms around me, her hands balling into fists as she gripped the wetsuit. “I’m sorriest for that,” she squeaked out the words before breaking down.

I rubbed my hand across her back to quell her quiet sobs. “I forgive you.”

She looked up to me, her nose red and forehead wrinkled. “What? How?”

I chuckled at how cute she looked at her worst. She spent so much time wearing beautiful faces, it was refreshing to see her a mess. I rubbed away one of her tears with my thumb, then pulled her back into my embrace.

“I know you did this out of love. I don’t know if it was the wrong choice, honestly. I don’t know anything.”

And can’t trust anyone.

I held her a while longer in the early twilight. The wind ruffled my hair and the cold of winter nipped at my scar. My breathing stayed steady, and eventually, Hana’s matched mine.

She sniffled. “If it makes you feel better, Ko-nah advocated against this plan.”

I grunted. “No, it doesn’t. He’ll always advocate to save his own skin—and we saw how that turned out last year.”

“Right,” she scoffed. “That tsutsa-wei sangomnyon…” she trailed off in a series of curses in both Japanese, and Busanese_TK(plz name the language already). I smiled at her return to normalcy. I hated seeing Hana sad. She had such a fiery personality that gave way to the most interesting facial expressions—when she felt comfortable to show them.

I couldn’t shake what she had said, though. Ko-nah had advocated against the plan, which meant there had been a vote on the matter. An invisible band squeezed around my stomach, making me queasy.

“Who wanted me gone?” I whispered and Hana stiffened.

“Me, Shin-soo, Cho, and Woong-ji. Four to two.”

Shin-soo didn’t surprise me in the slightest, but Cho… he had been worried most of all about the mission. Maybe, like Hana, he thought he could save me from some terrible fate. It was surprising to know Sung-ki wanted me to stay.

Then I remembered him calling me over to work on the cultural report before I was pulled into the sea. Had he tried to stop it?

My head split like a log at the arborum and I winced. It was like my brain was ripping its way out through my scar. I rubbed my temple to dull it to no avail. The anxious band around my stomach pulled until I felt hollow, inside out. I breathed through the feeling of agency slipping through my fingers.

I didn’t own my life.