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Zoey sat along the short stone wall that runs beneath the edge of the Seonang tree. A light spring wind was rustling the leaves and she tipped her head up and smiled. The Osaekcheon fluttered and danced, whispering the words of ancestral spirits and guiding gods. The warmth of the breeze was suddenly blocked by a heavy shadow, and her lashes lifted. Celine stood there, arms folded over her chest, obscuring the view and sound of the long ribbons that hung from the branches.
"Is something wrong, Seonsaengnim?"
"I thought you were supposed to be practicing," she said, voice soft but firm.
Zoey grimaced, bottom lip sliding out. She had one leg hooked up under her, adjusting as she nodded. "I am. I'm working on a new song."
Celine frowned, but said nothing. The sounds of sharp grunts behind her made her turn away from Zoey, and they both looked to where Rumi and Mira were practicing. The two of them stood on the pillars, round logs rising up on end a few feet in the air that made up an arena of sorts on the field nearby. Beneath them, the early spring flowers were in bloom and bees buzzed, oblivious to the battle above.
Rumi wielded the long gok-do, keeping Mira at bay. Mira herself weilded a saingeom, the sword weaving, searching for an opening to slip past Rumi's defenses.
"Mmm," Celine made a noncommittal sound and slowly sat down next to Zoey on the the wall. Close enough that Zoey could smell her perfume of pear and teak. It was one of Zoey's favorite smells, and she leaned a little closer to Celine until their shoulders brushed, head dipping back down as she scribbled another line of lyrics down.
"Enjoy your break. I want to see how you do with the polearm next," Celine said without turning to look at her, yet Zoey's disgusted face must have been obvious still because Celine chuckled softly. "It's important all of you understand each other's abilities to be a better team."
"I know, I know," Zoey stuck out her tongue. "You know its too swishy for me. I like stabby."
Celine's long black hair shone as she tipped her chin down at Zoey and the corner of her lips twitched into a smile. Those were rare, Zoey had come to learn. She liked that she could bring that out of Celine.
"Tell me what this song is," she said, gesturing to the English words written in Zoey's frantic, sharp and squared off handwriting.
"Oh, this one? It's nothing, really, I mean—" she flushed, squirming a bit and waving her hand with a dismissive, self-deprecating gesture. "I've just been homesick," she admitted.
"And?" Celine pressed, her arm lifting up to rub affectionately between Zoey's shoulders. She hadn't realized they were tensed, and she let them relax. "It's a song about duality. About my life as an American, and my life as a Korean," Zoey gushed now, empowered to share the joy of her art. " 'I'm one of two, together whole. Parts divided tear our soul. Come together, cherished you, full of potential and see us rise to any goal.' "
Zoey looked back to Celine, the smile slowing falling from her face when she sees Celine staring at Rumi a gain.
"Have you shared this with Rumi and Mira?" Celine asked without looking at her. Her voice was cold and jaw set tight.
"No, not yet. I was going to later." Zoey said, twirling her pencil and then biting on its end, feeling a bit bashful for some reason.
"No."
"No?" Zoey repeats, the shock making her drop her pencil.
"You mustn't," Celine said, turning to look at her then. With surprising quickness she reached over and grabbed the paper on the notebook, tearing the page from it and crumpling it into her fist.
"Our faults and fears must never be seen," she hissed, throwing the balled up lyrics over her shoulder.
Zoey felt like she had been slapped, or worse. Tears were suddenly welling up in her eyes and though she tries to blink them back more dewy drops clung to her long lashes and spilled out across her cheeks.
"I—" Her voice broke, and she furtively wiped at her eyes. "I'm s-sorry Celine."
"It's my fault." Celine sighed, arm sliding back around Zoey's shoulders and giving her a firm hug. "I haven't been taking care of you well enough here, if you're thinking so much of America, have I?"
"You have, Celine," Zoey sniffled again, suddenly feeling more ashamed. She didn't want Celine to blame herself. It wasn't her fault. She had been kind and generous—attentive, even. Like now, her fingers sliding up to play with Zoey's hair that fell from messy buns.
"You know, you remind me so much of Rumi's mother, sometimes," Celine said quietly, voice distant as her eyes swept over Zoey's tear-streaked face. Her other hand crossed over them, catching a tear with her knuckle and brushing it off. "I took care of her, too. Don't worry."
Zoey didn't worry. She just nodded, trembling, and let Celine's arm around her take away the sting of her lyrics being thrown out. Faults and fears, she reminded herself, and blew out a heavy breath.
"Maybe you can make a song about the joy of find your Korean roots, instead. Turn it into a celebration," Celine decided, giving Zoey's bicep a squeeze. "Oh! And on that note, I have something for you."
Celine dug into the satchel at her side and then dropped a little stuffed crow onto Zoey's lap, directly above the crumpled and torn edges of paper.
"A… a crow?" Zoey said, confused. She tried to not sound ungrateful, and it was certainly cute with overly large eyes. "Aren't they ill omens?"
"Normally, yes," Celine laughed, but she poked it, revealing the crow having a third foot. "But this is Samjok-o, he is a good omen, rebirth, and the light of the sun."
Celine let her hand fall and for a moment it settled atop Zoey's. "That's what you are, Zoey. My light and rebirth."
Zoey felt her face grow hot again. She didn't know what to say as the heat spread to her ears and made her throat tight. She squeezed the little plushie to her chest, leaned in to hastily give Celine's cheek a quick peck, and then threw back her head and screamed,
"Caw! Caw!"
Celine laughed, and indeed the world felt a little lighter.