Bastion 2 - Chapter 15

As the third week came to a close, I was weary, yet excited for the day ahead. Meditation always came with wiggling, humming, sighing, and complaining from Ko-nah, which was not my preferred way to begin any day. The excitement was because Mae had repaired enough of the second device that she had the power to do live analysis in detail. We’d discovered after a few days of processing the older data Mae had collected from my mother, that the information was not enough to draw any conclusions about her illness.

I finished my morning routine and went to rouse Ko-nah, prepared for his typical comeback. However, he rose without issue. Confusion furrowed my brow, but I said nothing as he walked past me to his dresser for clothes.

“I’ll meet you out there in ten,” he said as he walked out the door toward the bathrooms.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be such an exhausting day after all.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Mae warned. “We still have to travel all the way to Namnak and back before the gates close for the evening.”

‘Yes, but I’ll get to see my family for a few hours, and that’s worth the trip.’

I walked out to the glade with a spring in my step and a grumble in my stomach. Mae’s work on the device through the night had completely drained my ma munje. The constant cycle of creating and using ma was draining my energy, leaving me far hungrier in the mornings—and at every other meal—than was typical.

Hana smiled as she caught my eye, and I felt dread tug at my insides. She knew the plan to go to Namnak today and wasn’t going to let me go alone.

“Stop worrying, you’re being ridiculous,” Mae admonished.

Cho and Yuri were chatting about the best glaze for a donut when I took my place next to Hana in the meditation circle. She touched my arm as she leaned in and whispered, “What is it?”

“What do you mean?” I posed back, as I relaxed my face, trying to erase all emotion from it.

Hana raised an eyebrow. “You went pale when you saw me.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know wh—

“He’s embarrassed about you seeing where he lives,” Mae blurted through the speaker in my chest.

I covered her speaker to dampen the sound as I looked around the clearing. The glade was devoid of activity aside from us. My cheeks were warm as I turned back to Hana, worried what expression her face might hold. Annoyance? Disgust? Superiority? I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eyes.

She grabbed my hand away from my chest and held it in both of hers. “Jiyong, I’m not going to judge your home, or your family. I feel like I already know them so well. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Cho shrugged and I looked up to him. “I’ve seen some really bad places. Yours can’t be anything like that.”

“Plus, you’ve got a goat. That’s so cool,” Yuri added. “My parents don’t own anything but tiny dogs that bark non-stop.”

Mae whispered in my mind, “Let the shame go.”

Sour tightness pulled at my guts and I looked at Hana. She was smiling kindly, the sort of smile one gives to a child who’s hurt themselves. I straightened my back as I said, “I think it’ll be best that I go alone today. It’s a lot of tests we’ll be running, and the information might be hard for my mother to hear. She wouldn’t want an audience.”

Hana released my hand, her smile fading as she nodded. “That makes sense.”

“We’ll be here to talk about everything when you get back,” Cho said with added strength.

Yuri sighed in exasperation as she entered meditation pose, mumbling, “I wanted to see the goat.”

I kept my ears poised for approaching footsteps as we became silent, but Ko-nah never joined us. Worry roiled in my gut as I wondered if he’d heard Mae. What if he’d been hiding somewhere nearby, or snuck up on us with a ry glimmer? Who could he be telling right now, and what would he be telling them?

“You’re being paranoid. He just didn’t want to come,” Mae said as she pulled the last of the ma I created down to the second device.

Woong-ji’s meditative teachings were instrumental in achieving focus, and I needed all I could muster today. Meditation flew by without the distractions, and in what seemed like no time at all, I was devouring breakfast. I returned for a second and third helping before Hana had even finished her first. She had been sullen since I said I wanted to go alone, and I knew it was my fault.

She didn’t think she was going to be disgusted by my home, I knew it. I’d seen pictures of her palace in the hills. My home was barely a shack by comparison. Even my tiny apartment above the Rabid Rabbit was nicer. She wouldn’t be impressed with what we had built, or how we lived.

I set my bowl aside and turned to Hana. “Will you walk me to the train?”

She nodded but said nothing. We finished breakfast in peace and bid Cho and Yuri farewell at the gate. Hana didn’t loop her arm through mine as we walked, and I felt the tension growing between us. We got to the station without a single word and I purchased my ticket at the automated teller with fear knotting in my shoulders.

As I stood on the platform, looking at her downtrodden posture, I almost changed my mind. I didn’t want her to be sad, and didn’t want it to be because of me—but what I had said was true. I wanted it to be a nice day when Hana met my family, and today was not likely to be a nice day.

I reached out for her hand and kissed the back of it, feeling the callused knuckles of too much training. “I’m sorry that this didn’t work out this time. Next time, I promise.”

Hana’s eyes shimmered with tears. “What if there isn’t a next time, Jiyong?”

I scowled. “What do you mean?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just mean, what if you don’t… It’s nothing.”

The conductor sounded the train horn twice to alert its inevitable departure. I didn’t want us to part ways like this. I pulled her hand to draw her in closer and she stepped up to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I hugged her tight.

I sighed into her long dark hair and planted a kiss on her cheek. “I promise on everything that I am, next time I go home, it’ll be with you. I want them to see you when it’s for you, not when it’s for my mother’s tests.”

A small smile pushed back her tears. She nodded as we separated, saying, “I understand.”

I heard the door closing behind me and turned with a burst of zo. I pushed my way through the automatic door with only a centimeter to spare and caught my breath on the other side. Hana was smirking on the platform as she shook her head. She waved and watched me go. I rapped my knuckles on my chest twice and held my fist out to her, earning an even bigger grin that beamed like the sun. Hana knew what it meant.

It was one gesture I had never thought to offer her before, as it was only something we had adopted in the outer-cities. But Hana was one of my own now, and she deserved the gesture of unwavering trust and friendship.

When Hana and the platform were out of sight, I took a seat and leaned my head back to begin cycling ma munje.

“That was well done,” Mae remarked with a hint of surprise.

‘If you hadn’t blurted the truth in the glade, it wouldn’t have been necessary.’ I replied. Mae didn’t respond, but I could feel her frustration bubbling on the edges of my mind.

I sighed and bent forward. ‘Sorry. I just… that was one of the privacy things. It’s my right to keep my feelings to myself, and you took that away from me.’

“I’m sorry,” Mae whispered, sadness in her voice. “I was just trying to help.”

I pinched my nose bridge with frustration. Now I’d made them both sad.

“No, you’re right. It’s your life, and I shouldn’t do that. I’ll be better,” Mae affirmed and I relaxed back into the seat.

‘Okay, so we’re good?’

“We’re good,” she said, sending me a wink behind my closed eyes.

I worked at converting breakfast into munje as the train jostled along the tracks to Pi-Ki. The hour and a half long train ride came to a screeching stop and when I opened my eyes, I realized I’d fallen asleep instead of cycled energy. My reservoir was near empty again, and I groaned, rubbing at my eyes.

There weren’t many people on the train this early in the morning to the outer-cities, but there were dozens waiting on the platform to get into the kingdom and inner-cities. The crowd parted around me like I was a razorfin swimming through a school of glowfish. I was wearing the dobok of a Bastion, and stood quite tall, but still, it was nice not having my shoulders bumped.

When I came down the steps of the train platform, Se-hun was waiting for me on a motorbike, a huge grin lighting up his face. “Good to see you, brother.”

“Where’s mine?” I asked with a cocky smirk.

Se-hun rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t drive two here. Sorry, you’ll have to sit on the back.”

“Hey, where’s the girl?” Se-hun asked as he pulled a bulky helmet up from the side of the bike and strapped it under his chin.

“Hana?” I asked.

He nodded.

“Yeah, I… she was busy,” I said with a shrug

Se-hun’s eyebrow curved up to a sharp point. “Right.”

“Like you’ve made a move with Naena,” I fired back. I swung my leg over the back wheel and sat down on the tiny cushion, then leaned back and grabbed the edge of the seat.

“Aw, you’re not gonna wrap your arms around me?” Se-hun asked with sickly sweet sarcasm and made kissing sounds at me over his shoulder.

I scoffed. “You wish. Just drive.”

Se-hun took off with a jolt and I had to reinforce my arms with zo to keep from toppling over backwards. It was a bumpy ride home, and I refused to wrap my arms around him, so I spent half of it furiously recycling a small portion of zo to stay stable.

He slammed on the breaks and I slid forward into him, knocking my head against the back of his helmet. I rubbed the spot above my eye as I pulled away.

“I knew you’d come around,” Se-hun taunted with a sarcastic face that needed to be punched.

“Thanks. Don’t worry about my ride back,” I said with a groan as I dismounted, still rubbing the bump over my eye.

“You’re welcome. Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you.” Se-hun revved the motor and spun the back wheel, splattering mud across the legs of my dobok.

“Yeah, you’ve done plenty!” I yelled after him and he cackled all the way down the street.

There was no en munje in my reservoir, and I didn’t want to waste energy making any when we needed everything I had for the analysis. I tried to shake the mud from my pants as I made my way down the walk, but not in time to avoid the onslaught. Daegon charged through the front door, followed closely by Minjee. They slammed into me with giggles of joy and I wrapped my arms around them. I patted Daegon’s back a few times and he pulled away.

“It’s good to see you, bro!” he said, his eyes misty.

I smiled. “It’s good to see you, too.” I picked Minjee up like a sack of rice and made my way toward the house when a sharp, “Nope!” stopped me in my tracks.

Eun-bi appeared at the door, arms crossed over a nice, pink and white flowered hanbok. “Not in this house, we just mopped. Go around back,” she demanded, and I set Minjee back on the ground in her giggling fit.

Eun-bi stood on her tip-toes, looking around me for someone else. She scowled and asked, “Where is she?”

I shrugged, feigning innocence. “Who?”

Her scowl deepened and her tone was angry when she demanded, “Hana.”

I pursed my lips and turned for the side gate, my shoulders up to my ears.

“Yeah, you slink away and think about what you’ve done. I was looking forward to meeting her!” Eun-bi called after me and shame colored my cheeks. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that Hana and Eun-bi had been in contact for several weeks last year while I was in a coma. How stupid of me to think they weren’t still in contact.

Oh, Mun-de-Jayu… What were they talking about?

My messy room? The way my socks smelled when I came home from the arborum? There was a litany of things I wished Hana would never know, but since she and Eun-bi seemed to be friends, she’d have access to all the details.

I walked past the side of the house, our goat bleating a welcome as she looked up from her meal of leftovers and weeds from the garden. I gave her a gentle pat and a, “Good girl,” as I made my way around back.

Mother was strolling through the garden, plucking vegetables, and placing them into a wicker basket rested on her hip. She had a loose bun with streaks of silvery-white hair pinned on top of her head and wore a breezy white dress that was tied at the waist with a gold silk scarf.

I wanted her to stay healthy, like this, and keep getting better.

She straightened up and smiled when she caught sight of me. “Jiyong, I’m so glad you’re here. Have you eaten?”

“A few hours ago,” I said with a shrug. I was already hungry.

She pulled her basket up and walked toward the house. It was loaded down with squash, tomatoes, and a few other late season plants. It was getting cold, and the sun was getting shy, meaning there were fewer plants that would grow and bloom.

Daegon came running out the back with a pair of my work pants in hand. “So you can come in!” he said exuberantly.

I quirked an eyebrow. “Going through my stuff?”

His eyes shot open wide and he dropped the pants, running as he said, “Do-hwan did it!”

I laughed and shook my head as I retrieved my clothes. Mother touched my shoulder with a cool hand as she said, “Leave the muddy ones over there. I’ll ask Suyi to clean them.”

Then, I was alone on the patio. I looked around as the goat bleated, then quickly stripped off my bottoms and replaced them. The work-pants came up to my mid-shin, and the waistband was tighter than I remembered it being.

When I joined my mother in the house, there was already a feast set out at the table. Eun-bi was standing near the door, arms crossed as she looked down the path to the road. I looked to my mom with a flight of panic.

She smiled kindly. “Eun-bi said Hana was coming. Se-hun was going to give you that monstrosity machina to ride back with her so we had enough time to eat before the tests,” she said, her mood souring.

Eun-bi looked over her shoulder at me, eyes red with unshed tears. “What did you do, Jiyong?”

Wasn’t I just the biggest fool? I’d been messaging with my mother all week about coming to run more tests. But this meeting wasn’t about the testing, not for my mother, or my family. This would’ve been their chance to meet Hana.

Suyi came through the back door with a bouquet the size of a small tree. There were all colored flowers with sprawling green leaves, and a little flag at the top that said, “Welcome Hana!” There was one of Minjee’s little drawings on the side, perhaps a badgermouse, or another one of the rodents she found so fascinating.

My throat tightened as heat filled my face. The floors were polished to a high shine and every rug had been dusted. Mother and everyone else were in their finest dress. Today could’ve been a happy day. We could have feasted on the best our garden had to offer, and laughed into the afternoon.

But I had ruined it.