Chapter Twelve Kasu #2
“That’s all it’s worth.” It did not feel good, but it was the truth.
The only reason she was offering ten tiles was for the sentimental value it held – the necklace was not real gold, merely gold-plated – likely something the woman had been buried or cremated with if it had made its way down to the under-realm with her.
She must have treasured it while she was still alive.
“Can’t you give me a little more? Five – no, just two more tiles is all I’m asking!” Tears welled up in the ghost’s large, dark eyes.
“Ten’s all you’re getting.” Kasu eyed the spot where the ghost’s hands clasped the edge of the counter.
“You can’t do this to me!”
“If you’re going to make a fuss, I’ll throw you out.
” Kasu reached a hand beneath her counter where she kept a jade bell.
Banse and Manzu would come to her aid at the first ring.
Over the long years the three of them had worked together, standing in the same position day after day, Kasu had learned that she could rely on them.
Despite the bribes they took, they were probably the only demons she could ever trust.
“Is your heart made of stone?” the ghost wailed. “I have been in the under-realm for five centuries. I can’t take it any more! I just want to move on!”
“You and everyone else who comes here,” Kasu muttered. No matter how desperately the ghosts at her exchange desk begged, she could not give one customer more than they deserved. It was unfair to the others.
But Arun—
Arun had been a mistake. She had given him those tiles because she’d thought it was the right thing to do, what the heavens would want her to do, and he had used them against her wishes. She would not be so generous again.
“Please! Ever since Lord Onyx disappeared, they’ve closed down the fighting pits. I can’t make money selling ointments if there ain’t no one whacking each other!”
Kasu sucked in a long, steadying breath.
One must be firm in one’s convictions. Hold strong to the Righteous Way and never waver – Heavenly Principle six hundred and fifty-two.
Kasu was strong. The eyes of the heavens looked down upon her at all times, judging her every action.
She would not waver. “You have two choices; take the trade I’m offering or leave. ”
“Just two more tiles!”
Kasu turned to Arun. “Can you throw her out?”
“Me?”
“Since you’re here.”
Arun looked positively scandalized.
With a sigh, Kasu reached for the bell beneath her counter and rang it. The door burst open and Manzu marched towards them. The ghost grabbed her necklace as the dog demon hooked a strong arm around her and dragged her away.
Most did not leave that easily. Whenever Kasu offered fewer tiles than they hoped, they would swear at her, spit at her – some even tried to hurt her.
Though she knew some basic martial arts, she only knew enough to buy herself a short amount of time before either Banse or Manzu or both would come storming in to drag the offending ghost away.
She was grateful that this one had only put up a token protest.
“Don’t you ever feel sorry for them?” Arun watched as the front doors swung shut.
“Why would I?” Kasu grabbed her rag and wiped down the counter.
“You saw that ghost. She was desperate. She just wanted a chance to free herself.”
Kasu snorted. It was na?ve to think any good would come from trying to earn your fortune at a gambling parlour.
“If she’d lived a good and honest life when she was still alive, she wouldn’t be trapped in the under-realm in the first place,” Kasu muttered. Prevention was better than a cure.
“You’re trapped here as well,” said Arun. “Don’t you feel anything when you’re taking advantage of poor, desperate ghosts?”
Kasu tried not to let him see how much his words ruffled her. She was a poor, desperate ghost too. Where was his sympathy for her?
“We all must be responsible for our own fate,” she replied after a moment. Heavenly Principle four hundred and twenty: Make no excuses for your actions. In all things, one must take responsibility for one’s own deeds.
“Then does that mean that you’re responsible for your ending up in the under-realm?” Arun shot her a sly look.
“Yes!” Kasu slammed her hands against the top of the counter.
Honestly, what part of “we’re responsible for our own fate” didn’t he understand?
Arun had come to the under-realm, ignored all her instructions, and now he had the gall to question her?
Kasu knew why she was here. She was paying for it every day.
“When I was human, I made a deal with Lady Camellia. She would have my soul for five thousand years after I died in exchange for one wish. Do you know what I wished for? A jade pendant! A single jade pendant that probably cost more than my entire house! It was greedy of me. Not to mention stupid and vain.”
Her memories of her life were fuzzy at best. If she tried to recall the details of her time as a mortal, all she could remember was this: a house on the edge of the woods, a sister who smiled like the sun, a mother with a quiet voice.
She couldn’t remember wearing the jade pendant she’d sold her soul for, or even what it looked like.
She should have asked for a mountain of rice instead. Or gold. Or a better house.
Or for her sister to get better.
She blinked, startled by the sudden thought. Had her sister been sick? Kasu did not remember – she hardly remembered her sister’s face, but if she truly had been sick, then Kasu was an even worse person for selling her soul for some pendant and not medicine or food.
She gripped the edge of the counter. It hurt to remember. She did not want to think about it.
“I didn’t live a good and honest life, and now I’m getting exactly what I deserve.”
“You don’t mean that,” said Arun, annoying in his certainty.
Kasu glowered at him. How could he know whether she meant it or not? They hardly knew each other.
A tense silence passed between them. Arun glanced around the foyer, taking it in as if for the first time. His dark-eyed gaze roved over the clock hanging above the counter, the polished boards on the floor, the walls painted in red and gold. After a moment, he sat down next to her counter.
“What are you doing?” Kasu had to crane her neck to look at him.
Arun shrugged. “Remember what Hanyu said? Someone from the heavens was spotted in the theatre district. You can show me the way.”
A please would be nice. Kasu allowed herself a moment to be annoyed before swatting the feeling away. She had dealt with plenty of irritating ghosts and demons before; there was no reason for Arun of all people to rile her up like this.
“I thought you wanted to go alone.”
“I’ve come to my senses.”
Kasu eyed him, suspicious. “You’ll have to wait until my shift is over.”
“That’s fine. I’ll be your bodyguard until then. I’ll just sit here and look tough. Maybe scowl a bit.” He grinned.
A sharp retort rested on the tip of Kasu’s tongue. She swallowed it back like a lit match and felt it burn all the way through her.