his gi. End it painlessly for him. Let’s forget your mistakes. I’ll let you start over.” Yena didn’t so much as glance at the bodies sprawled over the floor as she delicately picked her way to the door and left.
“Please. Please. Please,” Miyoung chanted over and over as she pressed her hands against Jihoon’s wound. It did no good, so much blood had already been lost so quickly. She gathered towels, rags, anything to stop the bleeding.
When she pressed her red-stained hand to his neck, she couldn’t find the beat of his heart and hers stopped.
“No. No. No.” It was her new chant now as she pressed her ear to his chest, hoping to find the pulse of his life inside. It was silent.
Miyoung let out a wailing gasp as she pumped her fists against his heart. Her sobbing shook her body and something fell from her pocket.
Miyoung looked down at the yeowu guseul. Small and plain, sitting on the stained linoleum floor. She picked it up, gripping it tightly before collapsing against Jihoon.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, though the words felt useless and hollow. The bead burned hot against her palm. Miyoung jerked up, dropping it to the ground before it singed her skin.
Jihoon lurched with her, desperately gasping.
“Jihoon?”
He gagged, blood spraying from his lips and splattering her face. His body seized; his eyes rolled back. Blood and phlegm dripped from his lips.
“Wait!” She held her hands against his wound, applying pressure. But it only seemed to make the blood flow faster through her fingers.
“Please tell me what to do,” she pleaded, with Jihoon, with the gods, with herself.
“The bead,” came the whispered croak.
Miyoung looked at the yeowu guseul with trepidation, suspecting the voice had come from the stone itself.
“Use the bead.” Halmeoni crawled over, dried blood coating her scalp.
“Halmeoni,” Miyoung said, half in relief and half in desperation.
“Use the yeowu guseul.” Halmeoni griped Jihoon’s hand, his breathing now so shallow it seemed nonexistent.
“How do you know about the bead?”
“The old see and know more than you think. Please, save my grandson.” Her tears fell, running through the twisting wrinkles on her face.
Miyoung picked up the yeowu guseul carefully, the heat so intense it caused her skin to pucker. She almost dropped it, unused to feeling pain from her own bead. But she tightened her grip instead.
Jihoon started heaving as he tried to pull in air.
Miyoung pressed the bead over his heart.
The searing stone cooked her skin as she held it in place. Jihoon twisted against the pain. She moved along with him.
Coughs racked Jihoon. His cheeks and chin painted in crimson.
The bead cooled in her palms, the energy leaching from it.
Miyoung cursed as she applied more pressure.
“Don’t die,” she pleaded.
Jihoon’s body did not listen. He shuddered in the final death throes, his body giving in to its fatal injuries.
“It’s not working!” Miyoung yelled, pumping her closed fists against his chest.
Then Jihoon stopped seizing. He stopped coughing up blood. Everything stopped. Including his heart beneath her palms.
“No!” She slammed her hands into his chest over and over. Like she could pump his heart herself.
Halmeoni reached out to stop her. “It needs more energy.”
“I’m trying.” She opened her hands; angry red welts branded her palms. The stone sat on Jihoon’s chest, saturated with blood, his and hers.
Halmeoni took Miyoung by the shoulders. “It needs gi.”
“I don’t have enough.”
“I know. Siphon mine.”
“What?” She wanted to ask how Halmeoni could know this, but instead she said, “I’ve never taken a woman’s gi. I don’t know if I can.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Halmeoni took Miyoung’s bloody hands in hers.
Miyoung hesitated, glancing at Jihoon’s still body.
“Please, quick,” Halmeoni pleaded.
Closing her eyes, Miyoung formed the link.
When she pulled at the gi, it pushed back, but she didn’t let go and finally it flooded her in a hot wave, as if Halmeoni had pushed her energy toward Miyoung.
The bead heated and Halmeoni guided their joined hands, pressing the stone to Jihoon’s chest.
Halmeoni’s gi entered Miyoung’s body, feeding her hunger. Then it immediately siphoned into the stone. Like a flow of thirst-quenching water hitting her stomach only to be squeezed back out again. She was merely a bridge between Halmeoni’s energy and the stone.
Jihoon’s eyes fluttered, a roll of movement behind his lids. His chest rose in shallow breaths.
Miyoung tried to close the connection, but the bead pulled at the energy. She was helplessly caught in the current, a waterfall effect that couldn’t be stopped any more than one could reverse gravity.