Page 19 of The Last Tiger

Seung

As her lips press shyly, then firmly, against mine, it takes me a second to register what is happening. I can feel Eunji’s heightened pulse racing through our intertwined hands and up my arm, beating in sync with my own heart.

I almost lean into her.

I want to.

I want to more than anything.

But I can’t do this. We can’t do this.

I drop her hand…and gently pull away.

Eunji opens her eyes, still leaning forward, her lips parted. The sudden, wounded look that appears on her face sends a stab through my chest. She pulls back, ashamed.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice is quiet. Hurt.

“Eunji, I…” I struggle for words. I don’t know what to say. “You’re engaged …”

“To someone I despise,” she says bitterly, the words dropping from her mouth like stones.

It’s painful to see her like this. Even though it’s dark out, I can still see that her cheeks have turned deep red. The heat of abject embarrassment practically radiates off her.

I ache suddenly for her—for this brilliant, brave, headstrong girl sitting in front of me, a mix of defiance and yearning still glinting in her eyes. Wisps of her hair float gently around her shoulders in the wind, like an afterthought.

The only thing I really want to do is to stay here with Eunji forever, if I could, to hold her tightly under the stars until the sun rises over the palace in the morning and wipes away the night as if it never were.

But there are things in life that I simply can’t do. Life has taught me that the hard way.

“It’s getting late,” I say. “I think…we should go home.”

Eunji shrinks back, putting her head in her hands.

“Seung, I…I’m so sorry—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Why did I say that? The words escaped me before I could rein them back…

Eunji looks up from her hands, and I mentally curse myself. The hopeful look on her face suddenly breaks my heart.

For an instant, I wonder—what if we could somehow—

No. I crush the thought before it rises up.

Eight months ago, I made a choice. A stupid choice. I chose to believe in an impossible future. I deluded myself into thinking I could be someone I wasn’t.

I won’t be making that mistake again.

Eunji is betrothed to the charming, talented son of a Dragon diplomat. Someone who has everything I don’t, someone appropriate to her station. In a few years, after traversing Adachi Academy and back, she’ll barely even remember my name.

And that’s how it should be.

“This can’t work,” I manage, forcing through the bitter taste in my mouth. I rise to my feet. “Come on, Eunji—let’s go.”

And I climb to the edge of the roof, swing my legs over, and slide down one of the columns. I land on the sand—and wait.

After what feels like an eternity, Eunji follows me, descending to the ground with a soft thud.

We move wordlessly to the back gate of the palace, our footsteps creating small divots in the gravel.

I let her walk through the opening first; then I join her.

We walk in miserable silence down the hill, back toward her home.

We make it most of the way without speaking. Then, when the Choi family compound is almost in sight, Eunji turns to me.

“I’m so sorry, Seung,” she repeats. I feel the regret weighing down her heart; she wishes nothing more than to turn back the clock, undo what she’s just done, if only she could.

My voice softens. “Eunji, you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“But I am .” She exhales sharply. “I am sorry, Seung, I’m sorry for wasting your year, I’m sorry for thinking I—for trying to—”

“Stop!” I didn’t mean to sound so aggressive, but it’s already out of my mouth, and I can’t take it back.

Eunji falls quiet.

“Eunji, you’re getting married. To someone who can give you everything you need. Whereas I am ‘poor.’ I am doomed, as the eldest son…to struggle greatly in life.’?”

Her voice drops. “You heard that?”

“It wasn’t exactly news to me,” I say. “Anyway. It’s true.”

She takes a step toward me. “Seung, you were the one who first told me to envision the life that I want. You planted that desire, and now you’re telling me to forget it?”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself to nod.

“So this is the end.” Her voice shakes.

“Yes.”

“Of everything. Of—us.”

“Eunji,” I whisper, “there was never any us .”

“Okay,” she says softly, biting her lip. “I understand. You don’t feel the same way—”

“Of course I feel the same way!” I cry, throwing my hands into the air.

“Eunji, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t felt something for you from the moment you dragged me into that kimchi cellar.

If I said that those feelings hadn’t grown over these months.

But you—and me ? Look at how different our circumstances are. ”

Eunji stiffens.

“I’m no less trapped than you, Seung,” she says simply. “I thought you understood that.”

“I do. And that’s exactly what I’m saying.” All the anger, frustration, and hurt pour out of me now. “That’s the privilege the powerful have: to live life on their terms. Neither you nor I have anything close to that kind of power, and we never will.”

She falls silent.

“Eunji,” I say, my voice softening, “denying it won’t change anything. Denying it won’t alter the past. It won’t change my Exam score, or your future.”

It won’t bring my dad back.

“So please, just don’t,” I finish.

“Then what do you want me to do, Seung?” Eunji hardens. Her voice has gone cold, distant.

This is the voice of the Choi Eunji that I once knew: the good, polite yangban daughter.

The question stings.

What do I really want her to do?

I want her to pull me close and tell me that nothing will change after tonight. Tell me that this isn’t the last I’ll see of her. I want her to stay .

But I can’t ask Eunji to throw her life away for me. I have no future, now that I’ve failed the Exam, none to speak of. The last thing I want to do is bring her down with me.

So I steel myself, biting back tears, and say the words:

“Eunji, I want you to get out of this little town. Make it through Adachi; I know you’ll blow them away.

“And then I want you to have a good, comfortable life, a life that’s truly happy, if you can, one where you never have to worry about a thing. I want you to wake up tomorrow morning and to…”

I falter, nearly choking on the words:

“To forget about me.”

Eunji closes her eyes, silent tears falling down her cheeks. She wipes them away, unable to look at me.

And I show her home, my heart crumbling with each step.

This time, when Eunji climbs back through her window, she looks over her shoulder and casts one final glance at me. Her lips part, as if to speak. The moonlight falls down, illuminating her face with a pale, wan light.

The window slides shut.

I don’t let the tears spill until I’m well out of sight. It isn’t until after I’ve left the premises that they finally begin to stream down my cheeks.

I take the long route home.

The town is quiet and somber in the dead of the night; these hanok houses like mine, tonight, are places of mourning. We’ll always remember this as the night that we didn’t pass the Exam.

I walk aimlessly along the winding streets at the border of Kidoh, wiping away my tears. I find my way eventually to the creek where Eunji and I skipped rocks all those months ago. I can see my reflection on the surface.

I kneel down into the mud and pick up a handful of rocks, then let them fall into the water, one by one. Plunk. Plunk. The ripples move over the glassy surface of the stream, disrupting the reflection of the stars overhead.

“Nice dream,” I whisper to the creek. “It was always impossible.”

“Finally figured it out, huh?”

I leap to my feet, whipping around. I squint left and right along the bank, searching for whoever spoke.

That voice—where have I heard it before—

Then I see her, at the edge where the forest meets the riverside.

She’s leaning against the white bark of a birch tree, arms crossed.

Her deep violet hair, the color of magpie feathers, has been tied back into a ponytail this time.

The girl with the pale face observes me casually, her lips curled into a knowing smile.

“It’s impossible because none of it is real,” she quips. “I told you before. It’s just an empty promise the empire feeds us…They dribble out these glimmers of hope to keep people obedient. But the Exam is a farce. It always was. Only the elite can pass it, and you and I don’t have a chance.”

“Have you been following me?” I demand, angrily brushing my tears away.

“Let me guess,” the rebel girl says, ignoring my question. “Your secret girlfriend passed the Exam and you didn’t. And now she’s going to Adachi Academy, while you’re stuck here, so she dumped you.”

I take a step to go.

“Wait. Don’t leave. ”

My legs seem to turn to lead, rooting me in place.

What the—

“I want to help,” the pale-faced girl says cheerfully. “And I think that you can help us . You were close with her, weren’t you?”

“With who?” I try to feign ignorance, but it’s useless.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Lover Boy,” she says, taking another few steps forward.

She points a finger at me. “The rich girl. Choi Eunji. The youngest daughter of one of the most powerful families in the Tiger Colonies. They’re real tight with the empire.

You must’ve picked up some pretty serious intel. ”

“What do you want?” I cross my arms.

“Come work with me and my friends.”

“I don’t know who you are.”

“Yes you do.” The girl’s eyes twinkle. “You’ve heard of the Resistance, haven’t you? The freedom fighters.”

I pause.

“Join us,” she says.

“Why should I?”

“Look at the state of this place.” She gestures around to the desiccated leaves, the yellowing, parched grass at our feet.

“Our country is dying. The very land itself is crying out for release. This is the empire’s doing.

They’ve ravaged the landscape just like they’ve exploited the people. It’s going to pieces.”

The girl stares me down intensely.

“That hopelessness,” she continues, “this loss that you’re feeling right now, I know what you feel. We’ve all felt it. And it’s only the beginning.

“It starts with the Exam. But the empire will continue to take and take from you if you let it. They’ll take everything you have, the labor from your body, the money in your coffers, the blood from your veins—until you’re nothing but a broken shell, and then they’ll toss that away too.”

I’ve lost my dad, my career prospects, my future. My best friend, the girl I cared about. What more could the empire take from me?

One thing is for certain, though: Getting involved with a wanted criminal is not the answer. It’ll only hurt everyone I care about.

I need to get out of here. Far away from this strange girl. I beg my feet to move, but they refuse for some reason to budge.

Why can’t I move?

“I can’t help you.”

“Hm. Guess you’re not ready.” The girl clicks her tongue. “Well, when you are in the mood to finally stand up for yourself, come find me. We can always use an extra pair of hands.”

She reaches down into her satchel and takes out a piece of paper with something drawn on it and a pen. She quickly scrawls a few words on the back, then extends it toward me. “Take it.”

As if my hand has a mind of its own, it reaches forward and takes the paper.

How does she keep doing that?

“When you’re ready, come to the abandoned factory at the base of the valley. Knock on the window exactly four times—no more, and no less—and show them this flyer,” the girl says. “Don’t knock on the door if you value your life. Oh, and don’t tell anyone else what I told you just now . Got it?”

I stare at her blankly as my lips seal themselves.

“Good.” She grins. “And when they let you in, ask for Jin.”

The girl turns to leave. She’s taken a few steps toward the woods when she remembers something and turns back, letting out a small, half-hearted sigh. “Oh, yeah. You can leave now. ”

My legs finally seem to remember themselves. I stare down at them dumbly. As the girl disappears, I hear her laughter:

“I’ll see you soon…”

When she’s gone, I stare down at the piece of paper she handed me. On the back, she’s written:

For Lover Boy—Jin Xx

I turn the paper over. On the front is a picture, painted in broad, rough strokes. It’s an animal’s head, its jaws wide open, showing its fangs. I can see the rage in the tiger’s eyes.