Chapter Eleven Sunny
Chapter Eleven
Sunny
“We better say goodbye here,” Mrs. Ha says, with a tremulous smile at her daughter. “If I go to the beach with you, I won’t be able to stop myself from bodily dragging you away from the moonglade. I can’t . . . watch.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” Minju’s face crumples as she falls into her mother’s open arms. “We will have a more leisurely Hangawi next year. I promise.”
People shouldn’t make promises they can’t keep.
I told Ethan I’d see him in five minutes.
That turned out to be a complete lie. No one knows what future awaits them.
They don’t know what choices they will make when thrown into impossible situations.
They don’t know who they are capable of becoming.
No one knows that five minutes could become forever.
People shouldn’t make promises at all.
“I know you will do everything in your power to come home. And I will pray for your safe return with all my heart.” She leans back and cups Minju’s cheek.
“You are an extraordinary person, daughter. Your intellect has always astounded me, but it is your big, courageous heart that will help save the worlds. I know it.”
Minju nods, biting her wobbling lip to hold her tears at bay. “I love you, Mother.”
“I love you too.” Mrs. Ha pulls her into a hard, fast hug and pushes her away. “Now go.”
Captain Seo and I bow to the older female, but she gives us a chiding look before hugging each of us in turn. “You girls take care of each other.”
“We will, Mrs. Ha.” The captain bows again, then follows Minju out of the restaurant. Mr. Ha waits outside with his hands clasped behind his back, facing the ocean across the street.
“I should join them . . .” I trail off when Mrs. Ha looks at me with heartfelt concern.
“I see such pain and sorrow in your eyes.” She clutches my cold hands in her warm ones. “Whatever happened—and no matter what happens in the future—you cannot exist without living. You must live, child.”
I turn away from her kind face, my throat working to swallow. The warmth and wisdom of Mrs. Ha’s words remind me of my mother.
“If you can’t do it for yourself, then do it for your friends.” Sorrow tinges her soft laugh. “I’m asking for selfish reasons. My daughter believes in you. She needs you, Sunny.”
“But . . .” I meet her gaze. “I’m so afraid.”
“That just means you are not a fool.” She gives my hands a squeeze and gently releases them. “I don’t know what role you are meant to play in all this, but remember you don’t need to be perfect. Just live to the fullest and strive to do better. That is all any of us can do. And that is enough.”
I stare wide eyed at Mrs. Ha, her words converging with my mother’s in my head.
No one is perfect, and you are no exception, daughter. But I love you, imperfections and all. I only ask that you always try to do better. Learn from your mistakes and grow. That is all any of us can do.
My eyelashes flutter as I suck in a heaving breath, and I can see clearly for the first time in days. Maybe for the first time in over a century.
Life isn’t black and white. No one is all good or all bad. We falter. We make mistakes. We disappoint ourselves and one another. Yet everyone has a choice—not to be perfect, but to choose to do better.
Goodness isn’t an immutable state of being.
It’s about every choice we make, countless times in our lives.
One good choice doesn’t make you a good person.
And one bad choice doesn’t make you a bad person.
Neither are we the sum of our choices. Because who the hell is keeping score anyway?
The worst thing we can do is to give up—to stop caring—when we have the choice to do better.
“I can do better.” For Ethan. For Draco. For my friends. Most of all, I will do better for myself, because I am not a lost cause. I am not a monster. No matter what happened, I deserve a chance to do better. “Or I sure as hell will try.”
“Language, child.” Mrs. Ha scrunches her nose, exactly like her daughter, but her eyes sparkle with pride. “But that’s the spirit.”
“Thank you.” I bow low from my waist. My entire body tingles, like life is circulating through my veins, awakening from a forced slumber.
“Go, before I’m tempted to snatch my daughter.” The older female lightly nudges me toward the door. “Live, Sunny.”
I press my lips together and nod. Closing the restaurant door behind me, I exhale shakily and swipe my forearm across my eyes.
Then I jog across the street and catch up with Captain Seo and Minju.
Mr. Ha is already at the edge of the water.
My friends must have lingered behind, waiting for me to join them.
“Hey.” I can’t quite meet their eyes, feeling ridiculously shy for some reason. “I, uh, I’m coming with you.”
“I know,” Minju chirps with a little hop. Next to her, the captain slumps ever so slightly, relief in the lines of her body.
“How could you possibly know that?” I grumble, nonplussed. “I literally decided like a minute ago.”
“I can see it on your face.” The historian smiles guilelessly.
“See what on my face?” I press my hands against my cheeks.
“That you decided to rejoin the world of the living,” Captain Seo says in a husky voice.
“Is it that obvious?” I wrinkle my nose, hoping to frown away my blush.
“Yes,” my friends answer as one.
They know. I don’t need to explain that I’m going all in to save the Realm of Four Kingdoms from the Amheuk.
They don’t need to hear that I will fight to the death at their sides—not for the fate of the worlds, but for them.
Because they already know. Thank gods. Just the thought of saying those things out loud makes me squirm.
“What gave it away?” I flash them a picture-day smile that shows both rows of my teeth. “My sunny personality?”
The captain stares straight ahead like she feels squirmy too. “Your eyes don’t look cloudy and lifeless like a dead fish anymore.”
“Uh, thanks?” I’m too giddy to be offended by the dead-fish reference.
I might be walking to my death right now, but I’m doing it with my friends. For my friends. Even if I can never be good, I can always do better. It is fucking exhilarating to feel hope again.
“Before dawn, girls,” Mr. Ha drawls like an indulgent headmaster. “If you please.”
“Sorry, Father.” Minju cringes. “We’re coming.”
Properly chastised, we pick up our pace and hurry to his side. The gleaming reflection of the Hangawi moon really does look like a solid silver road stretching across the surface of the ocean. It’s hard to believe something so peaceful and beautiful is most likely deadly.
“Ready to become the first beings to cross the moonglade in one piece?” Worry flashes in Mr. Ha’s eyes as he glances at his daughter, but he hangs on to his determined smile.
“You seem knowledgeable about the moonglade and all.” I suck air in through my teeth. “Do you have any pointers on how to stay alive?”
“When you moon shift, you defy the laws of time and space to step past the abyss. Magic allows you to do that.” He pauses to meet each of our eyes.
“Walking the moonglade, as the name suggests, involves less magic and more . . . walking. It is far from a magicless endeavor, but it will take time and endurance to travel across the abyss.”
“How far is it to the Realm of Four Kingdoms?” Captain Seo pulls her shoulders back as though bracing for his answer.
“In scientific measurements, I would estimate that it is approximately two million light-years away,” Mr. Ha says in all seriousness, and I choke on my own spit. “But like I said, there is magic involved, which distorts the physical distance.”
“Then can you tell us how long it would take to cross the moonglade?” The captain might appear calm to a casual observer, but the tightness around her eyes is a dead giveaway that she is absolutely freaking out. “Your best guesstimate.”
“Time is a funny thing.” He chuckles nervously.
“We know virtually nothing,” Minju explains, patting her father’s back in wordless comfort. If he’s anything like his daughter, he hates not having the answers for us. “Our only hope is . . .”
“Let me guess.” My stomach plunges to my toes. “My Yeo—”
“Sunny.” The historian cuts me off. “We will discuss that on the road.”
“Is the secrecy necessary at this point?” I let my head fall back on a weary sigh. “All hell has literally broken loose.”
“It is for my parents’ safety.” Minju’s voice is tight with concern, her gaze darting to her father. Mr. Ha diplomatically takes a few steps away, whistling tunelessly under his breath.
“I’m sorry.” I drop my head, appalled at myself. It’s already hard for her to leave her parents like this. I can’t believe I almost added to her worries. “I am a giant asshole.”
“Revolting.” Captain Seo grimaces.
“All is well, Sunny.” Minju smiles at me, and I feel like a teeny, tiny asshole.
I don’t deserve her. I shake away the defeatist thought. I will do better to deserve her—to deserve all my friends.
“So what were you saying about our only hope?” I ask her when her father meanders back to our side. I hope he didn’t overhear anything, especially the giant asshole part.
“Our only hope?” The historian blinks myopically. “Oh, that’s right. As I was saying, our only hope is synchronicity.”
“Come again?” I stretch my neck out and point my ear toward her.
“Synchronicity,” she repeats obligingly. “We found you just in time for Hangawi when moonglading is our only means of returning to the Realm of Four Kingdoms.”
Captain Seo sputters incoherently, while I open and close my mouth a dozen times. I finally get my voice to work and bellow, “Our only hope is reading way too much into a random coincidence?”
“I’m with Sunny on this,” the captain says in a more moderate tone.
My jaw drops despite the hopelessness tugging at me. “You’re agreeing with me?”
“Don’t get used to it,” she mutters.
“Now, now,” Mr. Ha says, unease tugging down his lips. “Let’s hear Minju out before we dismiss her opinion.”
“Thank you, Father.” Minju scrunches her face, looking for the right words.
“Synchronicity means different things to different people. Humans sometimes give significance to two unrelated incidents out of desperation, or fear. But it also takes an open mind and courage to reflect on—and even act based on—the deeper meaning.”
“No, thank you.” I cross my arms. “I do not want to start a crystal collection.”
Captain Seo elbows me in the ribs and nods at Minju to continue.
“For beings of the Shingae, we should recognize that there are no such things as random coincidences.” Minju spreads her hands. “The three of us were guided to this moment by the hands of fate. We are meant to make it across the moonglade.”
“Have you ever considered that fate is a fucking sadist?” My upper lip curls with bitterness. “And that they guided us here to die?”
“Of course I’ve considered that possibility.” Minju snorts delicately. “That’s why I said synchronicity is our only hope. It is far from a certainty. Maybe not even a probability. But nothing can stop us from hoping.”
Fate and destiny have done nothing but screw me over.
That might be a good thing, though. Since fate shit on my life nonstop, maybe it’s time for some good things to happen.
Fuck. Now I’m clinging on to the gambler’s fallacy?
I’ve been losing all night, so I’m bound to win the next round.
That’s pretty pathetic. Minju’s “synchronicity reflects the hands of fate” theory sounds much better in comparison.
“Fine. Let’s do this”—I tilt my chin up—“and hope like hell that fate isn’t a total bastard.”