Page 39 of The Last Tiger

Carefully I reach beneath Kenzo’s back and prop him up on a large boulder.

I peel back each layer of his ripped tunic, wincing when I see the damage of the wound to his shoulder close-up.

It’s really deep. Around it, Kenzo’s wet undershirt clings to his skin, outlining the musculature of his arms and abdomen, now covered in goose bumps.

I secure the ripped strips of cloak around his shoulder tightly and wind them several times.

I learned this, too, at Adachi—ways to help our injured comrades in the field who may be unconscious or otherwise without access to their ki.

As I work diligently, Kenzo watches me through half-open eyelids.

He takes a sharp breath when the cloth comes into contact with his torn flesh, but he doesn’t say a word.

He’s going to need some serious medical attention, as soon as possible. But this’ll have to do for now. At least he won’t die of blood loss overnight.

Kenzo’s mouth moves as he makes another sound.

“What did you say?” I ask him.

He coughs quietly, the tiniest hint of a smile dancing upon his lips, despite the grimness of the situation. “I said…thanks.”

My shoulders soften. As Kenzo looks up at me, something quickens involuntarily in my chest. A sensation that I haven’t felt since S—

Wait, no. What am I thinking?

“You too,” I reply weakly.

“For what?”

“For…” I don’t know what, exactly. For not dying?

For hiding the truth from me and only revealing it when it’s nearly too late to save his life?

It doesn’t matter, anyway. When I glance back at Kenzo, he’s already asleep.

By the time I’ve finished constructing a shoddy fortress for us, I’m ready to collapse. I’ve never felt so exhausted in my life.

It’s a pitiful excuse for a shelter—just a series of many tree branches leaning against one another—but it’ll get the job done. It might just trap a little body heat for Kenzo through the night.

I nudge him awake. The color seems to have somewhat returned to his face, though it’s hard to tell in the dark.

Kenzo blinks a few times, getting his bearings. Wordlessly, I point toward the shelter.

Tonight will be the first that I’ve allowed us to rest, instead of trudging through the woods until daybreak comes.

Now that I know that Kenzo doesn’t possess Dragon ki, I can only imagine the state of exhaustion he must be in by now.

It must’ve taken everything he had to keep on walking through the steep terrain with so little rest.

Kenzo inhales deeply, then gathers his legs up. Like a three-legged dog, he limps over to the opening in the makeshift shelter and crawls inside, lying down on his non-injured side.

I follow him in, hesitating for a moment at the opening. There’s hardly enough room for one person in here, let alone two. Kenzo is already taking up three quarters of the space, and that’s lying on his side.

But if we want to make it through the night without succumbing to the cold, we’re going to have to get a little cozy. I’m way too tired to build a new fortress. I grimace and slide my way beneath the branches.

Then I roll over—

And find myself face-to-face with Kenzo, our heads so close to each other that I can feel the heat radiating off him.

He stays perfectly still, holding my gaze, an unreadable expression passing over his eyes.

I don’t know why my heart is suddenly beating so fast. I can only pray that he can’t feel it through the miniscule space between us.

It’s certainly warmer here than it was out there. Or maybe that’s the blood rushing to my cheeks.

Carefully I shimmy downward a few centimeters, so that my nose is level with his chest. That’s better. At least this way, I can’t see his face, and he can’t see mine.

A long time passes. At first, I think Kenzo has fallen back asleep. But then he speaks.

“So, who was that guy?”

For a second I wonder who he’s talking about. Then I realize he’s talking about the gumiho’s final transformation. Seung.

I stiffen. “Not important.”

“Seemed kinda important. To you.”

“He was just…” I consider telling him the truth. Then I clear my throat, pivoting. “Actually, I think you’re the one with some explaining to do, here.”

Kenzo sighs. “I never meant to deceive you, Eunji.”

I stare into the darkness, silent.

“I never meant to deceive anyone ,” he goes on. “I did everything that I was supposed to do. I passed the Exam. Went through the ritual; met the dragon. But…” He trails off.

I’ve never heard of an instance in which the ritual didn’t result in the immediate endowment of Dragon ki. But then again, I suppose if it did somehow happen, Kenzo would be highly motivated to keep it a secret.

I tilt my head upward to glance at him. For a boy so towering—both in height and his usual presence—he seems so small now.

“How did you manage to hide this?” I ask, stunned.

When Kenzo finally replies, his voice is heavy, dejected. There’s not a shred of pride in it. “Fooled you, didn’t I?”

“But…your promotion, your accolades…”

He coughs out a short, bitter laugh. “The empire sees what it wants to see, Eunji. People always do. They believe what they want to believe—especially regarding someone so distinguished as the son of Minister Kobayashi. Besides, look at me.” A glimmer of humor appears in his voice.

“Would you have any reason to believe that this guy”—he gestures to his own body in the darkness—“ wouldn’t have superhuman strength? I don’t think so.”

I lie there, staring blankly toward his chest.

Then I burst out laughing. At first, he joins in, until he realizes that I’m laughing at him, not with him.

“Hey, quit it.” He nudges me. I picture his mouth somewhere in the space above my head, surely forming a defensive pout.

“You!” I chortle, doubling over in stitches. “Going on about ‘protecting me,’ saying that’s your duty. Really—how exactly were you planning on defending me if I got into any actual trouble? If anyone’s been protecting anyone else…it’s me protecting you .”

“Perhaps,” Kenzo grumbles, “as I said before, not everything can be solved with punching and kicking.”

“Okay, sure.”

“Stop laughing.”

“I’m done.” One more chuckle escapes. “Starting now.”

Kenzo falls back into silence. I wait for him to speak up again, but he doesn’t. The minutes pass by. Eventually, I realize he’s fallen asleep.

And I find myself yawning, too, as my bones sink into the earth. It’s long past time that I rested.

As I drift off, my mind dances back and forth between thoughts of Seung’s image, smiling and wiping my tears away at the bridge, and a dim awareness of Kenzo, pressed against me now, his chest rising and falling in a deep slumber.

Then the night takes over, my unconscious calls to me, and I slip away, into sleep.