Page 27 of The Last Tiger

Eunji

The sun is rising through a cloudy haze.

I hug my knees closer to my chest as the morning breeze picks up, drifting through the canopy of trees where I’ve been hiding, perched uncomfortably on a branch throughout the night.

A dull cramp has been plaguing one of my legs since I woke from a restless half sleep.

Somewhere, not too far in the distance, I hear the rumble of thunder.

Aish. What have I done ?

By now, the emperor himself surely knows of my offense. It’s only a matter of time before the entire Dragon Empire has caught wind. Whatever damage I did yesterday, both metaphorical and literal (sorry, thousand-year-old shrine), I’m not sure that it’s reversible.

The sky darkens as something wet hits my cheek. Before I know it, it’s drizzling. The woods stir as the precipitation picks up. Thunder rumbles again, which means that the lightning can’t be too far off—up in a tree is probably the worst place to be when the storm hits full force.

Looks like I can’t stay here.

As the cold rain begins to stream down my face, white and red paint splash down onto my newly soiled wedding kimono. Great. That’s another thing I’ll have to atone for upon my return.

I swing off the branch and jump down to the ground.

By the time I arrive back at the base of our new Dragon Empire summer manor, I’m drenched. It’s as though the clouds have been holding it in, waiting to release their rain in one relentless downpour. There’s hardly a soul in the flooded streets this early in the morning.

At first I think that the rumbling sound coming from the top of the hill is thunder. But then I see the two bright, yellow lights, and I realize that the monstrous thing parked in front of the gates is a machine. It’s a car. A limousine.

I’ve never seen one of these in real life before. Only the very top officials have private cars, let alone a luxurious one like this. It likely belongs to someone of the stature of the Dragon Emperor’s top deputies…or the governor-general.

One thing’s pretty clear: I am in an unfathomable amount of trouble.

Better to assess the damage first. As Captain Nari says, Information is power. Always aim to get the first glance, the upper hand on your opponent. Instead of entering through the main gates, I sneak around, spotting a tall, ancient tree that hangs over the side of the house.

I nearly slip as I scale it. I’m much less familiar with the terrain at this new family manor. Still, as I climb, I’m briefly reminded of all the times I snuck in and out of our old home back in Kidoh.

From there, I leap onto the roof. Lucky for me, the water splattering against the tiles muffles the sound of my landing.

Smoke rises from the chimney before it gets snuffed out by the rain. The sound of voices comes through the opening, tense and heated.

“General, we profoundly apologize for our daughter’s misdemeanor…”

It’s Father.

“Misdemeanor?” booms an older male voice.

It’s cold, cruel. Dangerous. “This is more than a little mistake, Yamamoto. The emperor himself has been waiting in anticipation for this wedding. It has become a symbol in the press of his rule over the Tiger Colonies. Your daughter has not only acted in deliberate opposition to my will, she has delivered a personal insult to the Dragon Emperor.”

Spirits below.

It’s…Governor-General Isao.

“You know the consequences of treason against the emperor,” Isao continues. Something in the tone of the general’s voice and the silence that follows tells me he isn’t referring to court-mandated community service.

“Yes, Governor-General, I understand,” Father finally says. “We will do everything in our power to find the girl as soon as we can.”

“That’s right. You will,” Isao says. “And when you do, she will be executed for her sins. I trust you will comply, Yamamoto.”

I nearly lose my grip on the edge of the chimney. When Father finally speaks, his voice is soft, resigned.

“Y-yes, sir…”

Okay. Hold it together.

Have some hope—Father must be hiding some alternative plan. Perhaps he’s buying time. There’s no way that he’d just give in, relinquish his youngest daughter to death so easily. Right?

“Please! She’s just a child!” a female voice suddenly cries out. For a moment, I stupidly think that it’s Mother.

The general drops to a deadly murmur. “Did your servant just speak to me, Yamamoto?”

Not Mother. Moonhee.

“Eunji is only a child—you must forgive her—”

“What audacity,” General Isao says, his voice ice. “Yamamoto, is it a colony custom to take orders from servants?”

“I b-beg your pardon, sir,” Father stutters. “Moonhee. Apologize immediately. Now.”

But Moonhee doesn’t relent. “You can’t kill her. It would be senseless and cruel. And the only thing it would prove is that your rotten Dragon Empire is as tyrannical and unjust as the people already know—”

My breath catches in my chest. The sound of a gasp hits the air, followed by a terrible snap interrupting Moonhee mid-sentence.

The paper window at the side of the main compound rips open as something flies through it and falls to the ground in a heap. I crouch down and scamper to the edge of the roof, careful not to slip on the wet tiles. Then I throw my hands over my mouth.

To stifle the scream.

The object on the ground is Moonhee’s body. The elderly woman lies motionless in the mud, her spine twisted into an unnatural shape. The rain splatters down on her open, glassy eyes from above.

She’s…she’s dead.

A spasm racks through me as I desperately fight the urge to scream, to flail, to cry out. I can’t be discovered now. Or I’ll be next.

Through the light of the torn paper window, I can see the enormous silhouette of General Isao. The governor-general is impossibly tall, with his hair buzzed close to the scalp. He brushes his bearlike hands clean, regal and relaxed.

“Does anyone else want to speak up?” Isao says.

The only sound to be heard is the smattering of rain against the roof. The raindrops themselves mix into the horrified tears streaming down my face.

I’ve never seen somebody die before. Back at Adachi, during our drills, we would fight to break, to sprain, to bleed, never to kill.

My hands shake. Not Moonhee. Poor Moonhee. This shy, kind woman who practically raised me.

She stood up to defend my life, and it cost her her own.

My stomach twists. I lurch forward, dry-heaving. My vision goes blurry as I begin to shiver uncontrollably, the rain battering down on my head.

Everything that’s happening in the room below—it’s because of me. My fault.

Perhaps I should turn myself in now. Let them take me.

But my execution wouldn’t bring Moonhee back.

It wouldn’t resurrect the demolished Dragon shrine from the rubble.

It wouldn’t make things right.

And nothing would change. Choi daughters would continue to be used as pawns, never to choose what to do or where to go—

“As I was saying, Yamamoto…” The governor-general starts to speak again when I hear the sudden sound of horses galloping, then rapid footsteps hitting the pavement. I duck down, tearing my terrified gaze away from Moonhee’s body and pressing myself against the rough surface of the slate rooftop.

Someone stands at the front door, urgently ringing the bell at the gates. Have I been spotted? Are they here to take me?

The door slides swiftly open, and Father appears below me.

“Who dares to intrude on my house at such an hour?” he bellows at the visitor. “I’ll have you know you’re interrupting a critically important meeting with the governor-general—”

“That’s precisely who I’ve come to see, sir,” says the visitor. “I bring an urgent message from the Tiger Colonies to deliver to General Isao immediately.”

Father softens. As the messenger enters, I return to my spot beside the chimney and lower my ear.

“Governor-General, sir,” says the messenger. “There’s been an incident reported that deserves your immediate attention.”

“Yes?” Isao demands.

“A young man is said to have caused a severe disturbance in a gold mine yesterday in one of the provinces. A village called Kidoh. Two eyewitnesses confirmed the use of what appeared to be unnatural…powers against his supervisor. It’s believed to be…the work of a tiger.”

“Nonsense. The tigers were eliminated two years ago.”

“Sir, the report is credible. It is believed to be Tiger ki.”

I have no idea what Tiger ki is, but judging by the immediate shift in the governor-general’s tone, it’s gotta be something pretty bad. Isao responds immediately.

“Who else knows of this? How many witnesses?”

“Only the two eyewitnesses and the local Dragon administrator. From there I was sent to deliver the message straight to you, sir, first and foremost.”

“Good,” Isao replies. “First, have the two eyewitnesses executed. Then, quietly deliver a notice to every Slayer in the empire: for capturing the boy, five million yen. For the tiger, fifteen million. And tell them this: Whoever captures the last tiger shall personally receive the governor-general’s unfathomable appreciation—my personal favor bestowed upon their name, and any reward they so desire. I give my word.”

The last tiger—

My mind flashes back to the night by the river…

“Kidoh is our hometown. We have connections there.” Father speaks up. “Let us assist you, General. We can locate the tiger and this boy for you.”

“Yamamoto,” Isao says coldly. “You are trying my patience.”

“We know the area, Your Excellency—”

“Then, since you insist on volunteering, I believe a deadline is in order.” Isao’s voice darkens.

“Find the tiger for me. Collect your errant daughter. If you have brought neither to me by the end of…next week, I will have you killed, too, along with the rest of your family and all your descendants. The Yamamoto line will cease to exist. Understood?”

The silence in the room is heavy.

I may resent the man, but he is my father.

And now my whole family’s lives are at stake.

What have I done ?

One thing is for sure. I absolutely don’t want anyone else’s blood on my hands.