Flicker
Eunnayeon kneels in front of the small altar, lighting a candle and the incense and letting it rise to the heavens. She takes a deep breath, then another, then another, trying to clear her mind and focus on the small light in front of her, but even after several minutes she finds she cannot.
Too much has happened. Too much is hanging in the balance and all the things she thought she had put behind her now seem real again. Doubt enters her mind, but she pushes it away again and redoubles her efforts to calm herself and enter her meditations.
She watches the candle's flame flicker with the tiny movements of air as she slowly measures her breathing. It moves with every breath, no matter how careful, no matter how slow.
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
Dark chi seeps from Guopang's body, wafting about the room like dark smoke. It was all wrong, a once-proud and strong man losing himself to the corruption. How could this have happened, she wonders. He was always so careful. So certain. So centered.
It will stay a mystery. She senses it, that there is not enough time left to ask.
A lump rises in her throat, and his eyes open briefly at the sound of her footsteps as she comes near. "You're here," he whispers.
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
Anxiety rises at deepening uncertainty. A half-dozen divinations all pointing to the same conclusion, but she doesn't know what it means.
Xin, as Spring comes, the dragon's heart awakes. Jing, Summer's sky, the river flows into the sea. Kui, in the Autumn, along the alternate path. Xu, in the the Winter Sky, a jewel dangles precipitously.
She touches the cards in front of her. What do they mean?
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
Hiding in the bushes near a small home on the outskirts of a dojo, watching the basket on the doorstep squirm and fuss noisily. She won't leave until she knows it will be okay.
The door opens and the large, middle-aged Gon man with dark hair stares down, eyes wide at the basket containing the sweet mistake given form. "Where did you come from?" he asks, squatting down, gaze full of wonder. "Where is your mother?"
Eyes blurring, holding her breath to make sure he doesn't realize she's near. The Gon takes up the basket and brings it inside. She exhales.
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
"You said you were ill," she accuses softly. "You didn't say it was corrupted chi."
"You're one to complain about keeping secrets, Na-yeon..." he gasps.
Her chest hurts. His hair is gray now but she can still see him the way that he was.
"Is she here?" she asks, her voice uncertain.
"No... sent to her uncle's. She shouldn't see me like this."
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
.
Stance at the ready, staring down her sparring partner across the yard. They circle each other slowly until he finally charges her, the sound of rushing wind meeting the clang of his weapon against hers.
She digs her back foot into the dirt and parries, throwing him off-balance as the blade is knocked aside with momentum. Her long leg sweeps underneath him and he falls onto his back with a thud.
The dark-haired Gon man, her teacher, looks up at her, eyes full of pride, and maybe something else. Heat trickles up her neck.
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
Nausea swirls in her head and the contents of her stomach empty themselves along the side of the road. She pulls her robe around her, straightening herself back up, but her belly pushes back against the fabric.
The caravan driver, an aging Jin, looks back at her in concern. Their eyes meet; she looks away in embarrassment. No explaining where she's going. No explaining why. She's paid enough to keep the questions away.
She keeps walking.
Inhale. Flicker. Exhale. Flicker.
Silence stretches at the immenseness of what's been unsaid for years.
"I am sorry, Guopang," she sighs softly. "For everything."
"No, I'm the one who... I shouldn't have..." The Gon trails off, clearly struggling.
She shakes her head. "It was a long time ago."
"Then... please, Na-yeon, stay... talk to me. Let me pass from this world with the sight and sound of you as the last things I know."
Inhale.
But this time it is the start of a sob. A line of tears roll down one side of Eunnayeon’s face one by one, being pulled the tide of her own memories and regrets.
There would be no meditation today.