Bastion 2 - Chapter 8

We met up with Hana and Yuri not long after getting Ko-nah settled. We made our way through the entry hall that was as tall as it was wide. Long, white pillars depicting scenes of the ancient ones supported the ceiling, no less than three stories high. The black floors were slick with a fresh waxing, and the whole pagoda appeared to have undergone some maintenance since the last semester.

We sauntered through the garden to waste time as Yuri questioned Ko-nah, much to his discomfort. I didn’t think he’d ever had someone ask so many questions about his heritage, dreams, and favorite foods in one breath. Yuri was a conversational force to be reckoned with.

Cho dropped in with Il-sung, and Hana fell back to my side at the rear. Her cool knuckles brushed the back of my hand as we walked and a tiny smile turned up the edges of her pink lips. She stared ahead, but I could see her gazing at me in my periphery. I nudged her hand back as warm crept into my cheeks from my chest.

When the scents of food were practically pulling us to the dining hall, we made our way back inside. The customary pushing around of new students occurred. Tae-do seemed to be first to exercise his “right” to eating sooner. The young faces scowled, looking around to see if this was out of the ordinary.

While I, too, had found it odd my first year, it was part of the experience that had prepared me for how difficult it was to become a Bastion. Hunger was a useful tool in growth. Being hungry had pushed me to achieve greatness for many years, even if the road had been hard. It was only a few extra minutes of hunger for the students, not days or weeks as I’d learned to deal with the first three years after my father had left.

We pulled an extra two seating pillows from another table so all six of us could eat together near the center of the room. The fifth-year students were packed in at the front with many of the instructors, then the third-years, with the fourth-years taking to the outer seats far from the action, and the first-years being closer to the back.

When everyone had taken their seat, and half the hall had already finished their first meal, Min-hwan stood to address the crowd. “Students!” he boomed, his voice augmented by ry munje. “Welcome to the hardest six months of your life.”

The first-years broke into hushed whispers of fear. I smirked, remembering how I’d thought school would’ve been a breeze for me since I was from an outer-city. I had already spent a fair portion of my life struggling to survive, so what was a bit of schoolcompared to working twelve hours straight at the arborum?

How wrong I had been.

The determined students would make it through the year stronger than they’d started it. If they were lucky, wiser too.

Min-hwan went on to describe the rules of dueling, adding new rules for every student second-year and above. “As of this year, and all to follow, second-year students and greater will be restricted to only one duel per week. Pick your battles wisely,” he said as he seemed to eye me. I gave Hana a sidelong glance, and she was staring at me, too.

“What?” I mouthed with innocence.

She scowled sarcastically, then looked back to the front of the room.

Min-hwan cleared his throat and went on, “With that, I introduce the Core Foundation instructor, Master Woong-ji.”

He stepped down and Woong-ji rose, explaining the importance of core design for a student’s success at Bastion. She described the tardiness rules, the five strikes and expulsion information. Then, she finished with her customary, “I expect your best.”

With that, we were turned loose to finish the feast. My ravenous appetite hadn’t waned in the slightest, and in fact, seemed increased. On my way for a second plate, I noticed a peculiar duo of first-year girls as they snickered, pouring a dingy green liquid into a hot bowl of soup.

The steam lifting off the surface tinted a sour yellow for a second, then subsided. They pushed the bowl toward another girl at the table who hadn’t been paying attention, then smoothed the expressions on their face.

I returned to my seat with my food. I wanted to ask Cho about it, since he’d done a summer apprenticeship at an apothecary and would likely have an idea of what it could’ve been, but he was engaged in conversation with Il-sung. After a moment, I nudged Yuri’s elbow and I asked, “What’s that about?”

She looked up in the direction I nodded. “What’sa what?”

“The potions,” I whispered. “I just saw those girls put something in the other’s soup.”

Yuri hummed. “Prank potions. They’re not the only new thing at Bastion. Drugs showed up in higher-kingdom mid-way through the summer then trickled down. Drugs everywhere. The sungchal have been on high alert, hunting several new dealer cells, but can’t seem to find the source. Everything from munje enhancement and mind relaxing to instant flatulence and pimple starters.”

I scowled as I watched the unsuspecting first-year girl sip her tainted soup. “Flatulence and pimples?”

Yuri slurped up her noodles with a hum. “Prank potions, hot with all the kids. Watch yourself.”

A few minutes went by and the pranked girl shot up from her seat, holding her stomach as she ran for the exit. Flatulence, it must’ve been.

‘Mae, can you see how it’s working?’ I asked internally.

Mae hummed. “She didn’t get close enough for a full body scan, but I’m guessing it’s extracts of inflammatory substances mixed with carefully programmed li munje. There was something else though… maybe it’s nothing.”

‘What is it?’

“She seemed to be giving off a similar signal reverb as the junky in Pi-Ki,” she said, her tone loaded with confusion.

‘Maybe it’s just something our munje does when exposed to the altering substances?’ I offered.

Her voice was grave as she said, “Yeah… maybe.”

It wasn’t a very convincing maybe. Part of me wanted to question Mae, to see what was going on in her head, but we’d spent a year together and I knew by now that if she had something important to tell me, she would tell me in her own time. It took her a week to tell me my mother was dying so quick, but she told me.

I felt Mae’s apprehension as she said, “I don’t know anything right now. I’d need a closer inspection of the substance in question to analyze it. I’d need you to ingest it, and that’s not something I could ask of you. Let’s just stay out of it, Jiyong. Let’s have a normal school year. We can work on the device, and maybe by the end of the year you can be rid of me.”

I set my chopsticks aside in contemplation.

Yuri looked at me with a knowing glance as she asked, “What does she think?”

“What does who think?” Ko-nah asked as he set his tea down.

I looked at Yuri, the bluntest of blunt friends I’d ever had, and expected her to blurt the truth with abandon.

“His mother. We’re talking about Hana,” she said without a blink of dishonesty, though she’d just lied through her teeth.

“What about me?” Hana turned to Yuri with concern.

Suddenly, the entire table was looking at me.

“I, um”—I needed something to get everyone’s eyes off me. “I told my mother that I, uh, I wanted you to come over for dinner.”

Hana smiled. “Finally. When are we going?”

Ko-nah turned his attention back to Il-sung and I withheld my sigh of relief. This secret life was hard to live. Yuri pulled Cho aside and shoved him next to Ko-nah so she could scoot next to me. Hana leaned closer, too. I grimaced, but everyone’s attention seemed to be on the secondary conversation Il-sung was keeping alive.

“We need to talk later,” I whispered from the side of my mouth before taking a drink of tea.

“When?” Hana asked, her tone excited. She lived for the thrill of our adventures, and while I loved to adventure with her, for once, I just wanted to go to school.

I smirked as I looked her in the eyes and said, “Where you pulled my arm from its socket, midnight.”

Hana sucked down a breath to retort, her eyes squinted, and brow furrowed.

Yuri put a hand out to stop her and whispered, “We’ll be there.”