Page 60 of The Last Tiger
— Epilogue —
Seung
The warm, rich scent of daejangguk fills the small house. I inhale deeply, relishing the smell of home as I sit around the kitchen table with my family, enjoying the long and lazy afternoon.
Hoyoung squeals as he rides on the back of Fluffy, a member of the tiger litter that came to life at Mount Tangun—and the newest addition to the Lee family.
Knock, knock, knock.
“Seung, can you get that?” Mom calls back from the pot of stew.
“Got it!”
I go to the door and slide it open.
Eunji walks in, beaming. She kicks off her shoes.
Everything has happened so fast; the past several months have flown by in a blur.
As it turned out, Isao wasn’t the only one affected by whatever it was that happened the day of the Slaying Ceremony.
Over the previous months, people throughout the colonies, Tiger and Dragon alike, have been visited by strange, vivid dreams—fragmentary visions, here and there, of the memories that I experienced that day at the well.
Like a fever breaking, everything began to shift.
Civil unrest spread over the country. After Isao’s change of heart at the Imperial Palace, the governor-general issued a proclamation declaring that the Tiger Colonies would be released from rule by the Dragon Empire.
We would once again be granted our own, independent status as a sovereign nation.
And suddenly it was over. The Tiger Republic was born.
Of course, the more cynical commentators have noted that the Dragon Empire is on the brink of losing its war with the Serpent Queendom; the timing was only convenient for a withdrawal, some argue.
I don’t claim to know much about this. Regardless, I’m grateful for the astonishing, dizzying change of our fortunes.
Since that time, a flurry of activity has surrounded the capital and the countryside as the Dragon Empire prepares for its departure at the end of the summer.
A new national holiday has been declared to celebrate the transfer of power into the Tiger Republic’s hands.
And elections are set to be held for a new leader at the end of this year.
The Independence Day celebration is tonight. I can’t miss it for the world.
Eunji sits at the table, and I help her to some tea.
“Daejangguk, anyone?” Mom asks.
Mom ladles out the bowls of stew—made with care from ingredients brought by our neighbors from all over town.
We join hands together and thank the Tiger spirits for their gifts.
Then we dig in. The rich soy broth fills my tongue.
I help myself to two and a half bowls before sitting back, my stomach full and satisfied.
When we’re finished, Eunji helps us clean up a little around the house. Then we leave together. The Independence Day celebration is set to begin at sundown.
“Wait for me!”
Of course, we’d never think of leaving little Hoyoung behind—although, I’m not sure how long we’ll be able to refer to him as “little.” The kid’s having an intense growth spurt this summer, already several centimeters taller than last year.
As we make our way down the path to the square, we see a parade of villagers laughing and shouting raucously.
A paper dragon and tiger are marching down the streets, held on wooden sticks over the heads of a long line of people.
They’re dancing and circling around each other.
The joy in the air is so strong that I have to stop for a moment and wipe my eyes.
A few people shoot withering looks at Eunji as we walk along; she shrinks a little as I put an arm around her, glaring back at the others. They lower their heads at me with respect, giving us some distance. It feels strange, this reversal.
I feel a flicker of fear pass through Eunji.
A few days ago, someone shouted and threw rocks at her, calling her a Dragon collaborator, a traitor to the Tiger people.
Although rocks are relatively harmless for her, given her ki, the stranger’s hatred was powerful and disturbing.
She shivered as she told me about it later that day.
Her parents haven’t emerged from their family compound in weeks.
I keep my arm around Eunji, making sure people can see that she isn’t alone. Together we quietly move away from the main street onto the side roads, avoiding the crowded areas.
Still, despite having to deal with all of this, I can see how bright Eunji’s spirit is today to be out of the house, to be attending the independence ceremony. And I’m glad she’s with us.
“Don’t mind them,” I mutter.
“I don’t,” she says, leaning into me.
It’s true, though: The people are angry.
There have been demands in the street for heads to roll, and we know just whose heads they mean.
Some have called for forgiveness and for reconciliation in order to facilitate healing among the Tiger people, but others are calling equally loudly for the yangban to be executed, or at the very least put on trial for crimes against humanity.
Dragon residents across the Tiger Colonies are on edge; rumor has it they may be mandated to evacuate the country after power passes into Tiger hands.
Even those Dragon people who have lived here all their lives and know nothing other than life in the Tiger Colonies.
Debates are raging all over the newspapers about what their fate should be.
We may have brought back hope to the country, but that hasn’t yet solved all our problems or removed our old grievances.
Whatever history has in store for the Tiger Republic, it’s sure to be a tumultuous period from here forward.
We’re desperately in need of healing from a time of intense grief.
I don’t know what Eunji’s and my role in all this will be.
I don’t know what will happen to the Tiger people from here.
And yet, I have a feeling that, no matter what, we’ll find a way through.
We’re a resilient people. We’ve survived centuries of abuse, occupation, colonization, only to emerge from the ashes every time.
Somehow, I am sure of it, we will find a way to survive.
Not for the last time, I wonder where Jin has gone.
No one has seen her or Kenzo since the night of the final Slaying Ceremony.
No one knows what’s happened to them. It isn’t surprising Kenzo would want to lie low, I guess, given everything that’s going on.
Maybe he made it back to the Dragon Empire somehow, to lick his wounds.
Jin worries me more. Where she’s gone off to, I can only imagine.
I hope that she’s finding a way for herself, wherever she is.
Neither of them has contacted us or let us know how they’re doing.
Regardless, I’m positive that we’ll find Jin and Kenzo again someday. Eunji and I have decided that, after Independence Day, we’ll set out together to search for them. I firmly believe they are still alive and out there. I feel, intuitively, that our futures must be bound up together somehow.
The four of us—me, Eunji, Hoyoung, and Fluffy the tiger cub—file into the town square along with the parade, then lean back and watch as the ceremony begins. Fireworks shoot up, exploding into magnificent shapes. The villagers below ooh and ahh. Eunji wipes her cheeks and smiles, full of gratitude.
I sit there, next to two of the most important people to me in the world, watching the fireworks going up into the sky.
After a while, Eunji quietly takes my hand.
She doesn’t say a word, doesn’t even look at me, focused straight ahead in typical Eunji fashion on the celebratory show.
But I can feel a thrill passing through me—and I honestly can’t tell whether it’s from her heart or mine. Maybe it’s both of ours.
What an amazing feeling it is, I suddenly realize, to be able to look at the faces around me, the music and laughter in the air…and to feel so proud to be one of the Tiger people. I never really allowed myself to feel that way before. I never knew it could feel so good.
A memory comes to me. That night in the woods when I sat with Jin and the tiger. Han, she said. Han is a grief we share.
In the midst of darkness, we found a light to carry us through. That light belongs to us now. And we will carry it with us, forward into history.
I’m not alone anymore. I know my people. Their very memories live in me.
I lean back, feeling full and happy. There’s no place in the world I’d rather be.
Another firework explodes in the sky. This one forms the face of a tiger, its open jaws yawning out into the night before it disappears. The villagers break into applause.