Bastion 2 - Chapter 10

Or I wasn’t. Ko-nah refused to rise when I told him to. He rolled over and pulled his pillow over his head, saying it was much too early. I looked to Cho for help, who only shrugged. At the fifth request, I added a little electric jolt to get him going.

The en munje shot down my arm and zapped into Ko-nah’s back. He jumped out of bed with a high-pitched yelp, then turned to me with hatred as he demanded, “How dare you touch me!”

I squared my shoulders and asked, “You want Tae-do to do worse?”

We stared at one another for a second that seemed to drag on into eternity. He played at being weak, meek, and friendly, but he was the same kind of selfish as all the other pungbahn. Or, perhaps years of physical torment from Tae-do had made him skittish and protective. All the same, he saw me as the enemy, not a friend.

Ko-nah pursed his lips, then looked away as his anger simmered down to annoyance.

I sighed and relaxed my stance. “I won’t baby you. This isn’t your palace home by the dojang. This is Bastion Academy, and you will be your best.”

Ko-nah didn’t look at me, but his posture slumped.

“Do you think this will work?” Mae asked in my head. “What if he doesn’t know anything and we’re wasting our time? He hasn’t mentioned me at all.”

I refrained from shaking my head as I said internally, ‘He’s hiding it in case of emergency—either with Tae-do, or me. He knows something, maybe not exactly what you are, but he knows, and when he needs to, he’ll reveal that information to the highest bidder to save his skin.’

When all the anger had deflated out of Ko-nah, I threw him his dobok and said, “Get dressed. Meditation in the grass in ten.”

I shook off the conversation as I walked out to the grass, grateful to have a moment of silence. I looked up to see Hana, pacing with arms crossed. She looked about as pleased as riled up badgermouse.

I knew what conversation she wanted to start, so I preempted it. “What alternative do we have?”

She launched into a barrage of solutions. “We could tell Tae-do the jig is up.”

“And he’ll tell Tae-do whatever he knows about Mae,” I retorted calmly.

“How about Woong-ji? She can read minds, right? We get her to read his mind,” she offered.

“Yeah, that’s true,” Cho said with an excited nod.

I sighed. “I don’t know how it works. It seems she can “hear” only active thoughts. It’s not like she was digging around in my memory, only hearing my internal voice as I thought.

“And what a strange thing to ask my mentor: Hello Master, could you please read this boy’s mind to see if I’ve let slip my very important secret you told me to guard with my life? How would we get Ko-nah in the room with her? How could we bring up the subject without spilling it ourselves?”

Hana growled. “Okay, what if we just confront him? Just give him a few good knuckles to the face until he dishes the details.”

Yuri pounded one fist into her open palm. “Yeah, knuckles.”

Now I was the one growling. “For starters Hana, Yuri, that’s not us. We don’t beat the truth out of people.”

Hana pursed her lips and looked away. “I know.”

“Rats,” Yuri said as she plopped down in the grass.

“Second, Ko-nah’s been beat up by Tae-do for years. I don’t think he’s going to cave to us if we threaten violence, and it’s only going to make him shut down, and maybe leak the details he does know sooner. We won’t get anywhere that way.”

Hana took a few deep breaths and nodded. “You’re right.”

It took Ko-nah all ten minutes to make it out the grass, and we cut our line of conversation when we saw him approach through the trees. Honestly, he could’ve been standing there as a boulder the whole time. We needed to be more careful about how and when we talked about him.

Hana smiled—thought it looked more like a grimace—and said, “Good morning. How did you sleep?”

“It would’ve been better if Jiyong hadn’t zapped me in the back,” Ko-nah retorted with heat.

Hana’s smile disappeared. I put out a hand and offered for Ko-nah to sit next to me.

“This is a time of quiet, stillness, and becoming one with your conscious, and subconscious,” I said as I tucked my legs under me.

“The subconscious?” Ko-nah asked incredulously.

I nodded. “Learning to calm your mind is key to thinking clearly. Clear thoughts produce stronger spells, and swifter action.”

Ko-nah sighed as he came into the same cross-legged position. “What now,” he asked.

“Close your eyes. Breath in through your nose, and out whichever way is most comfortable. Then, focus on removing all the thoughts from your head,” I said slow and deliberately. Slowing down was the first step in entering a meditative state.

“How do I remove a thought?” Ko-nah’s asked with a whine.

“Lots of practice,” Yuri said with exasperation.

“Well, when will I be good at it?” He interrupted the peace again.

Hana breathed deeply. “When you have practiced long enough. Now, be silent.”

Ko-nah harrumphed. “For how long?”

Blessed Jigu, give me the strength not to strangle him. I held my eyes shut tighter and replied, “Until the sun rises.”

Ko-nah sighed deeply, then fell silent.

Until he shifted his feet, crunching dry leaves under his shoe.

Then, he cleared his throat.

And then, he started humming.

I opened my eyes to see a tiny little smirk on his lips. Having five younger siblings had taught me a lot about patience, but this boy was trying mine.

“Ko-nah,” I said forcefully, and he jumped with a start.

“What is it?” he asked, feigning bewilderment.

I calmed my nerves and said more gently, “You were humming.”

He blinked a few times and looked at the others, all of them still in their meditative pose. He chuckled, then said, “Must’ve been my subconscious. I’ll try harder.”

“Thank you,” I said with a bow, and closed my eyes.

The rest of the session went about as well as could be expected. I was able to tune out some of his movements and throat clearing—except for a loud whistling sniffle—but despite that, I was even less refreshed than when I’d started the day.

We stuck by Ko-nah’s side through Zo Strengthening II, and pulled him along when necessary. It seemed as though he hadn’t spent a single day in his life exercising, and his track time was pathetic. Cho and I didn’t break a sweat as we ran the ten kilometers that started our morning activity.

We could see he wasn’t pushing himself as hard, or even half as hard, as we knew he could. He kept complaining often about his feet hurting, or his muscles aching, but he hadn’t broken a sweat either. I wondered how he’d made it through his first year.

Zo Strengthening II would lean on many of the teachings from Martial Competency, which Li-Zigi said was the foundation from which we would build the unique style of Bastion hand-to-hand combat. Zo Strengthening II wasn’t only for the muscles—and muscle memory—required for the form, but we would learn how to infuse zo and other munje into our attacks, making them significantly more powerful.

We started with dan-jun, a breathing exercise that would force our zo munje to expand into every part of our body, and infuse with the tissue for easier, more integrated access. The downside was zo pollution so serious that a cleansing cycle was needed soon after combat, or the user would have to face repercussions like muscle spasms and numbness.

Of course, the more adept the zo user, the less of an issue pollution would be, but Li Zigi let us know exactly where we stood on the spectrum: the bottom. We would need to cycle after every use, or risk serious pain and discomfort for days.

Tae-do and Shin-soo watched the three of us from across the yard—hopefully thinking that Ko-nah was gaining our trust and learning our secrets. I didn’t know what Tae-do would do if he learned I was in on the deal, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. If he figured it out before I’d actually earned Ko-nah’s trust, it could be really bad for Mae. If he figured it out after… it could have significant backlash for Ko-nah.

Backlash I’d be responsible for.

“That’s not true, Jiyong,” Mae interrupted my thoughts. “Tae-do would be responsible for whatever hedid to Ko-nah.”

I tried to believe her words were true, but guilt poisoned my gut. We would just have to make sure Tae-do didn’t find out. We finished our cleansing activity, in which we learned the dangers of reusing infused munje. Normally used munje could be recycled to nearly one-hundred percent, but it was dangerous to reuse the munje that had been activated with dan-jun, and the resulting spells would be unstable, or even deadly.

It made sense to me now why we had learned both methods the first year, though I had significantlyunderused my cleansing ability in favor of munje recycling. Anything to help keep my hunger at bay while working a difficult project at the Rabid Rabbit.

Li Zigi’s voice was strained by the end of class for how often she was yelling in our direction. Ko-nah always put on a burst of speed, or tried a little harder when the instructor called him out, but as soon as her eyes were somewhere else, he was back to dragging his feet.

Ry Glimmers I was next for me, but Ko-nah was off to En Manipulation II with Cho. I pinned Cho with a wordless glare that communicated everything I couldn’t say out loud. Cho gave a gentle dip of his head to me as we parted ways in the hall.

I was on my way to meet Hana and Yuri when a familiar, unfriendly hand came down on my shoulder. I turned to see Shin-soo—alone.

“Can we talk?” he asked through gritted teeth, his forehead wrinkled in an angry scowl.

There was something about the urgency in his tone that made me agree. I followed as he moved from the main hall out to the garden. Birds chirped with plucky delight as they pecked gently at their feeders—designed to keep them off our berries, of course.

Shin-soo came to a stop under a tall persimmons tree. He flicked his wrist and a lavender bubble burst out from his palm, enveloping us in an almost invisible quiet. The birds chirps dimmed to a low twittering and the babble of students became like a rush of water. It was tranquil compared to the constant whining I’d undergone for the previous two hours.

“What is it?” I asked when he said nothing.

“You don’t mess with the Wong family,” he said, gravity in his voice.

What in Mun-Jayu could make Shin-soo scared like this? And why would he come to me? This could be another trick from Tae-do, but something told me Shin-soo wasn’t faking the fear.

I scowled. “Why? What can they do?”

Shin-soo’s jaw flexed as he shook his head. “They’ll take everything from you.”

Now it made sense. Tae-do was the “top bad boy” in school, and Shin-soo was jealous. He wasn’t afraid so much as he was ashamed. But I didn’t understand what telling me was going to do… make me go after Tae-do and put Shin-soo back on top?

“What’s this about?” I asked with less patience.

Shin-soo’s jaw flexed. He frowned, as if in pain, and dropped his head. “Whatever. If you’re going to be an asshole about it, then it’s not my business.”

He snapped his hand shut and the ry bubble collapsed in around us. Sound rushed back to my ears. The blood rushed to my head and I blinked away the disorientation as I watched Shin-soo storm off, his fists clenched at his side.

‘What was that about?’ I asked Mae.

“He seemed genuinely concerned. Or at least, as genuine as Shin-soo can get. I don’t think he’s up to anything—this time.”

The warning gong for class rang and I jogged back into school. Shin-soo had been the top bully last year in his group, but Tae-do had performed a coup over the summer. It could all be about the power grab, but Shin-soo did seem truly scared. Perhaps he’d gotten better at lying over the summer, too?

Tae-do wasn’t weak, and his sheer size made him intimidating, but there was something else about him that made me nervous. It wasn’t just the dominating behavior, the huge muscles, or the powerful family. It was the wild look in his eyes.

Tae-do was dangerous.