I take time to think. When someone asks a question like that, it’s stupid to answer with something that anyone could say, like “It’s very nice here.” I want to make a startling observation about the culture here and the experience of a five-time wu liu champion skating on a city made of the pearl. I want to say something he’ll never forget.
“It’s very nice here,” answers Cricket. “Everyone is very friendly.”
Ten thousand years of stomach gas. “Cricket—” I struggle to control my irritation. “That’s not what he’s asking. And not everyone has been so well-mannered in Pearl as Disciple Hisashi.”
“Just Hisashi. Did you meet any trouble?” His concern sounds sincere.
“No trouble I couldn’t handle. But not everyone’s been as polite as you. There was a girl eating alone in the dining hall. With hair like a waterfall. She stared straight at me without turning away.”
Hisashi stiffens.
“Have I said something?” I ask.
“That girl is my twin sister. Doi.”
“My apologies, Hisashi. I didn’t know.”
Heavenly August Personage of Jade. I’ve just met this boy and he was kind to Cricket and me, and I’ve already made him uncomfortable twice by talking about his family.
I steal a glance at him in the awkward silence. I can’t see any resemblance between him and his sister. Before I can stop myself, the words are out of my mouth. “If she’s your sister, why was she eating alone?”
Sometimes I think I should just bite off my own tongue and swallow it.
“She and I … avoid each other.”
I’ve upset him. That’s three times now. There’s clearly some secret sadness in their family. I want to let him know that Cricket and I know all about sad family histories. I want to tell him about why our parents disappeared, but I don’t trust my mouth.
After Cricket finishes his noodle soup, we descend from the rail-gondola. Hisashi says, “I hope to see you again soon, and you can tell me all about life in Shin.” He bows and says, “May we meet here in the New Year.”
“May we meet here in Pearl,” I reply, bowing back.
He begins to skate away, but he stops and turns back. He smiles again, but this time the smile is deep and sad and wise and happy, all at once. This time, he looks a thousand years older and a thousand times gentler than any boy I have met.
“Yes, my sister, Doi, was sitting alone,” he says. “But most people who do great things in this life know what it is to be alone.”
He turns and skates softly away.
CHAPTER
THREE
I don’t want to cry during the first day of classes, but the ache in my chest is so great that I might. I watch Cricket being led away from me, over to the boys’ side at the assembly at Divinity’s Lap, the largest square on the Principal Island of the academy. Cricket, with his small build and his bewildered face, thrust among these noisy, confident boys, disappears in the sweeping expanse of this square, under a towering sculpture of the Enlightened One, into a sea of black robes, all jostling sharp shoulders, narrow torsos, long sleeves, scholars’ collars, and trim pants. They look as hard as an army of crows. Cricket turns back to look at me as he departs, every stroke of his blades cutting sore little slices on my heart. Fifty first-year boys. Fifty second-year boys. Twenty-five third-year boys. And Cricket is the youngest and smallest one among them.
How is Cricket going to hold up against these huge, rough boys? He only learned girls’ wu liu styles with me. No one taught boys’ styles in Shin. I had to teach him what I could read about in books. I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed him. He’s so unprepared.
I straighten my robe and pretend to rub at something in my eye under my smoked spectacles. I’m glad that our uniforms are black so that no one can see where I dry my fingers in the pleats of my skirt.
During the assembly, the first-years watch the older students to see when to stand up or kneel down. A couple of evil second-year boys keep pretending to stand up at the wrong point to trick us into standing when we should be kneeling. One student is left standing by himself twice as the whole school giggles. It’s Cricket. I’m going to remember those evil older boys’ faces in case I ever have an excuse to fight them.
The second- and third-year students separate to go to their classes. We’re told that the first-year girls will be taught wu liu by Sensei Madame Liao and the boys by Sensei Master Bao. I’ll have to get used to calling my teachers by the Edaian title sensei instead of shifu like we did in Shin.
In the gathering of first-year girls, I see the girl with the waterfall hair. Hisashi’s sister, Doi. I skate over to introduce myself properly and make a fresh start, but before I can speak, another girl cuts me off.
This second girl is not without beauty. But her hair is bobbed short and tucked behind the ear on one side, swinging loose on the other. This must be the fashion here, since she’s followed by an entourage of other girls with identical haircuts. Why doesn’t anyone besides me wear braids? This bobbed-hair girl says to Doi, “Nice hair. It looks like pearlsilk.”
Her followers giggle behind their hands. One of them says, “Ask her how much she paid for it, Suki!”
“Don’t think that we owe each other anything,” Suki continues. “What happened at Pearl Rehabilitative Colony for Ungrateful Daughters meant nothing.”
Pearl Rehabilitative what?
The girls go silent as Sensei Madame Liao skates to the front of our gathering. She has the sharp cheekbones that indicate a hunger for power. I can tell she’s a cold woman. “Worthless, ungrateful daughters of Pearl—” She notices me and quickly adds, “And worthless,
