Peasprout Chen--Battle of Champions

by Henry Lien

  Don’t look up again, Peasprout. Don’t risk it.

  But I can’t help it.

  Through the doorway above me, I see, in the dark sky, the silver of a spiraling tail. The coiling water dragon disappears, like a serpent of mist and rain, softly whistling, into a sea of stars.

  CHAPTER

  EIGHT

  Afterward, the Hall of Benevolent Healing is filled with students cradling sprained arms, scratches, swollen lips, and other minor injuries.

  I spot Doi and Hisashi together, talking excitedly.

  “That final third-gate forever symmetry pangolin roll was an ingenious choice, Wing Girl!” beams Hisashi, clapping his sister on the shoulder.

  “You set us up for it,” says Doi. Something like a smile flutters on her lips.

  I don’t approach them. Whatever my feelings are about Hisashi, he’s the only family that Doi really has anymore. I want them to make their peace.

  A ring of students crowds around Wu Yinmei, clapping and chanting “Captain! Captain!” She turns her head toward me, but I skate away. So what if she played some part in defeating the coiling water dragon? She’s probably overjoyed at the opportunity to appear as if she’s loyal to Pearl.

  Now that the threat is gone, all the other students are acting like this is a party. Comparing stories of what they saw and did in the battle against the coiling water dragon. It’s long past the hour for sleep, but everyone is staying up, sharing blankets while drinking bowls of warm soy milk and chewing fried crullers, chattering about our adventure. I want to join them and celebrate that we fought, we won, and we are safe, at least for now.

  But I can’t. I know something is wrong.

  I skate over to where the weird healer Doctor Dio is examining all the injured students. When she gets to Cricket, she says, “His nosebleed was just due to atmospheric change. He has a severe sensitivity in his sinus bone. Nothing to worry about.” She adds slowly, “Although … I can’t be certain it’s not something more serious unless I remove his nose for study. It’s always safest for the patient’s health to remove the nose for study.”

  I ignore her. If I learned one thing last year, it’s that I can’t trust anything she says. Cricket shrugs and skates over to a group of students. I should follow.

  But I can’t. A creature that I believed wasn’t real showed itself to be devastatingly real in the most unforgettable way possible, as if punishing me for my doubt.

  And this thing’s mere approach made my brother bleed.

  I can’t join the other students in celebrating because I was wrong about the coiling water dragon. What else could I be wrong about? All I know is that I can’t be wrong like this again if I want to keep Cricket and myself safe.

  * * *

  When we gather for the assembly the first morning of classes, the presence of the dragon can still be felt. Most of the students are so terrified of falling in the water now that everyone stands far from the seaward edge of Divinity’s Lap.

  However, some second-year boy with delicate features and hair powdered shimmering silver is peering over the lip of the edge toward the water. “I just saw some scales flashing down there!” he shouts.

  Another second-year boy with bleached bangs swats the powder from the other boy’s hair and says, “What are you talking about? It was just your hair glitter!” Everyone laughs, and, seeing that they have an audience, the two start wrestling like puppies near the edge of the water, trying to thump each other on the hair. With a shout, the bleached-bangs boy slips, and his skate shoots out from under him. He teeters on the edge overhanging the water.

  My stomach and everyone else’s stomachs plummet as we watch him spiral his arms to keep from falling into the sea. The silver-haired boy shoots out his hand and grabs a fistful of robe, hauling his friend away from the cliff edge.

  We all exhale in relief.

  My relief is swiftly replaced with anger. One careless student falling into the water could bring those creatures down on us again. We could be anywhere when it happens. Like here, out on this open, uncovered square.

  It seems like all the students are looking out at the water beyond and below, teeming with lethal creatures, thinking the same thing: We are trapped on an island, and we are surrounded.

  No one’s laughing now.

  The senseis, which now include the Chairman, arrive and array themselves in the form of an arrowhead.

  Supreme Sensei Master Jio skates forth to address us. “Sweet ones, as we all learned so unforgettably yesterday, everything has changed this year. Due to the increasing level of threat from the Imperium of Shin, the essential mission of Pearl Famous has also changed. To explain the alterations, we have the legendary and healthful Sensei Master General Moon Tzu. Welcome him with ten thousand bows of veneration and awe.”

  An old man pushes forth on a bladechair. He rises and stands before us in a robe like a swirl of cloud, trailing a snowy white mustache that’s so long, he’s followed by two pages acting as mustache-bearers.

  Sensei Madame Yao and the Chairman skate forward and flank him on either side.

  Sensei Master General Moon Tzu lifts one of his poles and mumbles a few words. Sensei Madame Yao places her fist across her heart and intones, “Sensei Master General Moon Tzu says, ‘Soft and depraved students of Pearl Famous Academy of Skate and Sword. Opera is frivolous in a time of impending invasion. Pearl Famous is no longer an arts school. It is now a military academy.’”

  We’re all stunned into silence by this. Then the students erupt into whispers of disbelief and outrage. Around me, students murmur, “How can they do this?” and “We didn’t sign up to be soldiers. We’re artists!”

  Next to me, Cricket whispers, “Does this mean we’re going to have to hurt people?”

  What is going on here? I look to Sensei Madame Liao. She looks like she’s been forced to take a mouthful of poison and is deciding whether to swallow it or spit it out.

  Sensei Master General Moon Tzu murmurs a couple more syllables.

  The Chairman places his fist across his heart and states, “Sensei Master General Moon Tzu says, ‘Thus, we resurrect the Thousand Flowers Campaign. During the Bamboo Invasion decades ago, New Deitsu Pearlworks Company sponsored an effort to harness the young minds of Pearl. Our students were tasked with inventing new applications of wu liu to save us from the Shinian invaders. So now once again, we call on the youth to save our homeland. Let a thousand flowers bloom and a thousand schools of wu liu thought contend!’”

  Wait—the general can’t possibly have said all of that. He only uttered a couple words.

  I raise my hand and ask, “But venerable Sensei Master General Moon Tzu, how would Shinian ships even cross the water to get to us if it’s infested with coiling water dragons? It seems like they’re our best possible defense against invasion.”

  The Chairman smiles and says, “This is not the time for questions, little—”

  “I thought you wanted to harness the power of young minds,” says Sensei Madame Liao. The Chairman shoots a look at her and fumes. She continues, “Chen Peasprout asks a valid question. You should answer it.” She pauses and adds, “If you can.”

  Thank you, Sensei Madame Liao.

  The Chairman looks at all the faces staring at him and slips on his sugar face. “Clever little bird. An excellent question. But coiling water dragons do not attack ships. Anyway, as Sensei Master General was saying—”

  “How do you know that?” I ask.

  The Chairman glares at me. His hatred rolls off his Chi in waves, but he swallows it down. He smiles and says, “Because I said so.”

  “That’s not logical or even grammatically correct.”

  The Chairman is so filled with bottled rage toward me that he can’t blink his eyes in unison. Still, he contains himself. He says, “So admirable! Students, please observe Chen Peasprout as an example of confidence in your own abilities, no matter how low your ranking. What place did you take last year, Chen Peasprout? Sixteenth?”
<
br />   I feel everyone watching me. Including Hisashi. I open my mouth for a sharp retort, but Doi beside me whispers, “Not here, Peasprout. We’ll learn more from my father if we don’t set him on guard.”

  “That’s enough,” Sensei Madame Yao leaps in. She continues, “Sensei Master General Moon Tzu says, ‘You shall be taught—’”

  She stops when she realizes that the general hasn’t spoken yet. He whispers five more syllables. Sensei Madame Yao continues, “Sensei Master General Moon Tzu says, ‘You shall be taught wu liu, plus wu liu combined with each of the other three disciplines. First-year students shall be taught wu liu by Sensei Madame Liao; wu-liu-combined-with-architecture by Supreme Sensei Master Jio…’”

  So they’re mapping wu liu onto everything. To turn everything into a weapon. Doi looks as stricken as I feel.

  “‘… Second-year students shall be taught wu liu by Sensei Master General Moon Tzu, assisted by myself, Sensei Madame Yao…’”

  Her face does something strange. Parts of it move and others don’t.

  Oh. She’s trying not to smile. Because she at last gets to teach wu liu in some way.

  “‘… wu-liu-combined-with-architecture by Chairman Niu Kazuhiro…’”

  This is outrageous! I turn to Doi when I hear this. I can feel the fear and fury pulsing off her Chi. She doesn’t return my gaze. She and Hisashi are looking at each other.

  “‘… wu-liu-combined-with-literature by Sensei Master Ram; and wu-liu-combined-with-music by Sensei Madame Chingu. Third-year…’”

  “Wait,” I say to Doi. “Chingu? What was that she said?”

  However, Doi and her brother are still locked in a silent argument, emotions flowing through their Chi.

  The Chairman waits for Sensei Master General Moon Tzu to mumble, then says, “Sensei Master General Moon Tzu says, ‘Students shall not compete individually but shall instead form into bands to battle together as a team, as the heroic students who fought in the Bamboo Invasion did.

  “Your battleband will take what you learn in class and apply it in three competitions, entitled Annexations. Students are again encouraged to devise unique ways to defend Pearl’s perimeter and protect Pearl’s capital city.’”

  Sensei Master General Moon Tzu lifts both canes in the air and says at the top of his voice, “Every battle is fought before it is won.”

  Sensei Madame Yao frowns and says, “Won before it is fought. Sensei Master General Moon Tzu meant, ‘Every battle is won before it is fought.’ You must choose your battleband mates before the First Annexation. Your choice shall be critical in your success. We shall now demonstrate the importance in the Thousand Flowers Campaign.”

  Sensei Master General Moon Tzu produces three peonies from his sleeve, then with a groan of effort, flings them as hard as he can. They drop to the pearl a few steps in front of him. Sensei Madame Yao skates forth, picks them up, and tosses them deep into the crowd of students.

  With a streak of movement to the right, Suki claws one of the flowers out of the air. Etsuko flings herself into a triple cicada spin, flies into the air like an insect, and catches the second peony between her ankles.

  The third flower flies in a high arc above us. A forest of hands rises up to catch it. I have to get that flower. After the Chairman’s comment about my sixteenth-place ranking, I have to save face. I crouch down in a diagonal crab claw formation and shoot to the side, up toward the flower. Right as I’m about to grab it, I slam directly into another student.

  “Ahh, my nose!” Gou Gee-Hong, whom I called Mole Girl all last year, is clutching her nose.

  “I’m sorry!” I crouch down to her. “Oh, your nose is bleeding.”

  She touches her fingers to her nose, looks at the red, and begins to scream as if she just discovered all her limbs were cut off.

  “I’m so sorry, Mole G—I mean, Gee-Hong!”

  Another student escorts her to the Hall of Benevolent Healing. Doctor Dio is going to be delighted to receive another nose injury. I hear whispers around me of “She always has to be the center of attention” and “She’ll shove anyone aside” and “She gave her own brother a nosebleed.”

  I’m too ashamed of myself to turn around and see who’s saying these things. Did Hisashi hear them? Where is he? With Wu Yinmei? Peasprout, why should you care what he thinks or whether he’s with that girl? To my right, everyone’s crowded around the student who caught the third flower. Heavenly August Personage of Jade, it’s Cricket! He’s smiling at everyone as if he just won the lead in the Drift Season Pageant.

  The Chairman motions for the three of them to come to the front of the assembly. “To demonstrate the importance of choosing battleband mates carefully, these three shall constitute a battleband for this exercise.”

  Suki and Etsuko look at Cricket and step away from him, as if he were covered in whale dung. Shinian servant girls holding baskets of pink and white flowers skate to Suki, Etsuko, and Cricket and begin pasting blossom heads all over the robes of the three of them.

  “Only the pink ones,” spits Suki at the servant girls. “What is this glue? If this stains my robe, my father will have you deported!”

  When the servant girls are done, Suki and Etsuko look like a pair of princess goddesses risen from a lake of pink petals. Cricket, off to the far side and wrapped in the remaining white petals, looks like a fly cocooned by a spider.

  The Chairman says, “Now, all the students are to attack these three and rip the flowers off their robes. The three of them will be scored based on how long they can together fight you off, and have at least one flower left among them.”

  The students look at one another, then proceed to surround the three of them like a pool of black pearlsilk and metal.

  Suki and Etsuko are stranded in the middle of most of the students, while a thinner crowd tries to encircle Cricket. Doi and I push toward Cricket through the crush of students.

  Suki and Etsuko look at each other. Their paths of escape out of the courtyard of Divinity’s Lap are all cut off.

  Suki shoves Etsuko into the crowd. The students descend on Etsuko and begin plucking the blossoms off her. As petals toss and fly into the air, Suki slices through the throng and races in the direction of one of the bridges leading toward the Palace of the Eighteen Outstanding Pieties.

  The students surrounding Cricket turn to watch the mayhem. “Cricket, go now!” I shout.

  Cricket does a series of deft two-heeled pivots and dodges the students who lunge at him. He skates over one of the bridges leading south from Divinity’s Lap.

  I elbow past other students to keep up with him. I hear whispers around me of “Can you believe her?” and “She’s dying because she’s not the center of the activity” and “So pathetic.” I follow Suki and Cricket around to the front of the Palace of the Eighteen Outstanding Pieties. At its main entrance, Suki is fending off twelve attackers by stringing together fifth- and sixth-gate moves in all the zodiacal schools. However, even her talent is no match for the sheer number of students surrounding her, and patches are beginning to form on her robe where flowers have been pulled off.

  South of this battle, Cricket has stationed himself at the crest of the Bridge of Serene Harmony spanning the Central Canal. A cluster of students attacks him from the south end of the bridge—far too many for him to take on at once. I want to help him, but Cricket would probably be disqualified for it.

  Then I see why he chose this spot. The bridge is narrow, so only one attacker can come at him from the south at a time. Cricket has chosen terrain that makes their greater number irrelevant!

  “Suki! Join me!” cries Cricket.

  Suki sneers when she hears Cricket, but then she sees his stratagem as he faces a column of attackers lined up on the bridge, one by one.

  Suki races to the crest of the bridge. She turns and faces the line of attackers pursuing her from the north.

  Then I watch as the person I love the most and the person I hate the most battle together, back-to-back, defend
ing their hill. My brother, Cricket, holding his own with the top-ranked skater in our class, each of them managing their half of the task, each of them standing down their half of an army. I’m filled with a stir of emotions as riotous as a thousand flowers.

  Eventually, the numbers overwhelm them, and Cricket’s robe is plucked free of its last flower. Suki’s robe is also stripped of all its flowers. As the crowd parts from her, Suki’s hair is in a wild tangle, her face paint streaming down in tears.

  “Why me!” she wails. “Why always, always me!”

  I skate over to Cricket and hug him.

  “Cricket, are you all right?”

  When we disentangle, I’m surprised at the expression on his face.

  “Why are you smiling?” I ask.

  “Because that was fun!”

  He meets the world with such cheerfulness. He gives me hope that perhaps this year, with all its uncertainty and change, won’t be so bad.

  As we skate back toward Divinity’s Lap to divide up for our first classes of the morning, several students clasp Cricket’s hands. A couple of boys say to him, “If you ever need a battleband to join…”

  Whatever my new concerns are this year, I think that Cricket’s not going to be one of them. He’s going to do all right. He’s finding his own way, not just in archi—

  A screech cuts through the air. We turn our gazes heavenward.

  The Pearl Shining Sun News birds are looping in the sky. They failed to bring a single grain of good news for me last year. I take off my smoked spectacles to read the headline they’re writing.

  “Empress. Dowager. Demands. Return. Of. Traitor. Chen. Peasprout. Threatens. Invasion. If. Pearl. Refuses. Buy. Pearl. Shining. Sun. News. To. Get. Whole. Story.”

  CHAPTER

  NINE

  Everyone has arrived back in Divinity’s Lap. All eyes are looking up at the birds.

  Supreme Sensei Master Jio calls out, “Does anybody have a newspaper?”

  “I subscribe to the morning letter orb edition,” says Sensei Master Bao. “I haven’t unsealed it yet.” The senseis pass the orb hand to hand along their rank until it reaches Supreme Sensei Master Jio. He twists open the two halves and cups them to his ears.