Bastion 2 - Chapter 21

Shaking Ko-nah had been more difficult than I thought, and I hadn’t managed it.

I hadn’t managed it for two straight weeks. He was always there. He woke up at the same time as me, followed me between classes, ate next to me, showered too close for comfort, and trained just as often. There was no escaping him it seemed, but the silver lining was that his complaining had dropped to practically non-existent.

Perhaps it was because he’d seen me overcome Tae-do, who was twice my size and had been on zo enhancing drugs at the time. Maybe the reason for the complaining and dragging his feet was that Ko-nah didn’t believe my methods could beat Tae-do’s brute force, but seeing it applied had given him hope. His demeanor had shifted from an entitled complainer, to a gritty, driven man on a mission.

Tae-do’s demeanor had shifted, too. He frequently threatened me with his goons, but never followed through. He knew I had a good chance of beating them, and wasting his moves on me—as Mae had put it from old chess terminology—wasn’t on his agenda. I didn’t know what his agenda included, but he was going to get back at me, somehow. I could see it in the way he glared from across the room in every class. He hated me down to the very core.

Finally, after careful planning and quiet note passing with the others, I confronted Ko-nah about some privacy after our morning meditation. I called him over to me away from the group and he came without question.

“What’s is it?” he asked with a shiver. It was cold this morning, though I hadn’t noticed.

“You—eh, do you—understand Hana’s and my relationship?” I asked awkwardly, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

“She’s your girlfriend,” he replied, then his eyes went wide as he asked, “You don’t think I’m trying anything, do you?”

I put my hand up to stop him. “No. It’s not that. I appreciate how dedicated you’ve been to your improvement, and it shows. You’ve risen to the high two-hundreds in just two weeks of applying yourself. I hope this doesn’t sound condescending, but I’m proud of you.”

Ko-nah’s eyes narrowed. “But?”

“But… I need some time with just Hana.”

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?”

I sighed with relief. “I didn’t want you to feel like I was telling you to go away.”

He frowned. “That’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? But it’s fine. I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow for morning meditation.” He knocked his knuckles against his heart and then held his fist out for me. I mimicked the gesture without hesitation this time, though I still felt sick in the pit of my stomach.

“See ya later.” Ko-nah waved to the others as he walked toward the main pagoda. Yuri waved exuberantly in return. My shoulders fell away from my ears and I grimaced as I turned back to the group. I wished I could trust him, but something still didn’t feel right.

I slipped my hand into Hana’s and kept a smile on my face as I said, “We’re going to spend some time at the Rabbit. You guys know what I need you to do.”

Cho and Yuri nodded in unison. “We’re on it,” she said with a glimmer of determination.

“Do you think this will work?” Cho asked.

“What if you lose connection, or get him stuck, or get caught?” Hana blurted all her worries at once.

I squeezed her hand reassuringly. “We’ll practice and find my range. If he gets stuck, I’ll have him rip off whatever necessary to get out. If I’m caught, at least it’s Tuko and not us.”

Hana’s nose wrinkled up in distaste, but she didn’t say anything. With what little conversation we’d been able to have about the excursion, I’d made it clear that I wanted to take Woong-ji’s warning from last year seriously. There were people out there who would abduct young Bastions, and I didn’t want any of us being among them. Walking right into the den of a drug dealer sounded like the fastest way to find ourselves in the kind of situation we wanted to avoid.

When we were all in agreement, though it took some convincing on Hana’s part, we split up for our tasks. Cho and Yuri would be carving a small, Tuko sized hole in the wall somewhere deep in the glade so it would be easy to obscure. They’d keep a block wedged at the street-side so passersby wouldn’t notice the opening.

The only part of my plan I was worried about was the distance. It was over four kilometers from the signal source to the school, which wasn’t far on foot, but with Tuko’s legs being only a dozen or so centimeters long, it made a difference. I’d have to pace my munje use, but worse, I didn’t know if I could maintain control that far out.

We’d have to find somewhere safe to test it, and if I couldn’t make it, we’d have to devise some way to improve my range. Hana would get impatient. She wouldn’t want to wait however long it took me to improve to get to the bottom of this.

I didn’t want to wait, either… it was my mother’s life on the line, and every second we wasted was another moment lost to find the cure. But risking Hana, Cho, or Yuri’s lives in exchange was not an option. We would have to make this Tuko solution work.

We ate a quick breakfast, and I slid a few extra portions into my bento for us to enjoy at the Rabbit. Hana slipped her arm through mine and pulled me close as we walked, sharing her heat with me. It was still cool, though the sun had risen above the tips of the tallest skyscrapers.

I breathed deep and enjoyed the biting chill of the air in my lungs. It was as if I could breath for the first time in two weeks. I wasn’t keeping an eye on Ko-nah, or withholding any of Mae’s comments, or worrying about whether the source of the signal was going to move. We were going to do something about it—tonight, if everything went as planned.

I worked well into the afternoon, Hana at my side with support en for welding or cooling so I could conserve my energy for ma munje. Mae guided me through all of the modifications to increase Tuko’s ability to receive my commands, and while some of them looked quite ridiculous—like a long slender neck that could retract into his shell-like torso—she promised they would be worth it.

These changes would not at all make him a better fighter, but they would give us exactly what we needed to sneak in to the signal source, do some data collection, and still have enough munje to get all the way back to Bastion. Mun-de-Jayu, he looked so stupid now. Aside from the long, flexible, and retractable neck, I had to make his body almost twice as thick to support a larger reservoir.

I had been adamant about saving the panel with my father and my initials on it, though Mae said it was getting weak from all the welding. I didn’t love my father anymore, not for how much he’d put us through with his absence, but I couldn’t bring myself to rip out one of the only pieces of him I had left. Mae understood, and let it slide.

There was another empty space near where the trap door had been on his belly that Mae lay claim to as “hers.” I wasn’t sure what she was implying by that, but I didn’t like the idea of trying to fuse Mae with Tuko. I didn’t even know how to get her out of me, how could I get her into Tuko? Mae was decidedly silent as I worried over these details, which made me even more anxious. What was she planning?

“Hey, Jiyong!” Ryni waved as she passed my workshop, then stopped and leaned against the doorframe. “Got time for a quick—what happened to Tuko!” she yelled as she rushed forward. Her gaze raked over the modified bot in a panic.

“What have you done to him?” she asked with an accusing glare at me, then Hana.

“I need these modifications for a school thing. But don’t worry, I’m sure he could still win a scrape against Amsalja,” I said with a cocky grin as I referenced her bot.

Ryni scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “This turtle is going to win against my Amsalja?” Then, her face went serious as she asked, “How much you wanna put on it?”

I laughed. “I don’t have time to test the legitimacy of my claim tonight. We need to be getting back soon, or they’ll lock us out.”

She leaned back and crossed her arms in a taunting manner. “Uh huh.”

I conceded. “Fine, I don’t think Turtle Tuko could win any scrap, that’s not what these mods are for, anyway.”

Ryni gave it another appraising glance as she dropped her playful taunting demeanor. She circled and hummed thoughtfully. “Extended range, both in signal and reservoir. Taking a trip?”

Hana didn’t look pleased that we were sharing some of our business with Woong-ji’s workers. I knew full well that at any moment they could do the creepy, eye glimmery communication thing, and Woong-ji would know everything. She probably already knew everything.

“Something like that,” Hana said.

Ryni quirked an eyebrow and sighed. “I’d tell you not to get into any trouble, but I have a feeling that’s exactly counter to your goals.”

We shared a laugh that broke the tension. Ryni was great, like what I assumed having a cool aunt was like. Hana had described her aunt, Yenni Jun, on many occasions. She was a formal and stoic woman but had a strong moral compass and enough empathy for the entire world. That was amazing, but not cool, like Ryni.

I nodded. “We’ll do our best.”

“Mhmm,” Ryni said as she waved a hand on her way out. “You kids let me know if you need something.”

I sat back with a grin and looked at Hana. Her face was glowing, and her eyes sparkled with joy. Burning desired suddenly rushed through my chest and urged me toward her. I slipped my hand behind her neck and her eyes widened, but she didn’t resist as I pulled her in. I closed my eyes and pressed my lips against hers.

My heart pounded and my hand shook with nerves. What if I was doing it wrong? What if I was hurting her? I pulled back and dropped my hand to the desk, my face burning with equal parts desire and embarrassment. Why had I done that?

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I picked up the pliers and started correcting a tiny bend in one of the panels.

Hana’s warm, en infused hand slid across my cheek and turned my face. My heart thudded as she twisted on the bench until her knees nudged mine. I dropped the tools and pulled Hana closer as we kissed again, this time much longer.

The clock chimed on the wall and we pulled away from each other with a start.

Hana practically leapt off the bench. “We’ll be late,” she said, her cheeks burning with color.

“Yeah. Uh, yeah. We should go,” I stammered like an idiot as I fumbled for the tools on the worktable.

Without another word, we put everything back in its proper place. Hana nudged my hand once as we both went for the same spanner and we pulled back with embarrassment. I didn’t know why, but every time I got near her, I felt the hairs on my arm stand on end. It was like something in me was trying to pull her closer.

We were back on the road to Bastion in record time and held a steady jog the whole way. It was better to run not because we’d be on time, but because I couldn’t stand the desire of walking next to her without having my arms around her. All I wanted to do was hold her close. Why couldn’t I stop thinking about that kiss?

The gate guards stopped me as I approached, pointing to my Tuko rucksack. “What’s this?” the woman asked as she poked the satchel.

I set it down and untied the knots holding to together to reveal Tuko and said, “I need to work on the bot for Ma Design and Repair practice.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Working on Tuko was always good practice.

The guard scrunched up her face as she scrutinized me. I could feel the cold, gnawing tingle of a forceful ry intrusion, so I let down my guard. I had nothing to hide that wasn’t well buried under half-truths. She sighed and stepped back, then waved me in.

I had just enough time to stash Tuko in Woong-ji’s workshop—where he’d be safe for the night—before heading down to dinner. Phase one of the plan complete. Hopefully, Phase two would go just as smooth.