Chapter 2
Gin
Walking in the tipi a woman Who looking like Sun-jin Speaking in Japanese asking if Li was well
The air was thick, heavy with an unfamiliar scent, a cloying sweetness that tickled Li’s throat. His head throbbed, a dull, persistent ache behind his eyes. He blinked, his vision swimming, the edges of his awareness fuzzy. He tried to sit up, his limbs feeling strangely sluggish, as if he were moving through water. The rough stone floor beneath him was cold, but it was the silence that unnerved him most. The familiar symphony of the mountain – the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, the gentle murmur of a hidden stream – was absent.
He pushed himself onto his elbows, his gaze sweeping across his surroundings. This was not the cave. The walls were smooth, fashioned from a material he couldn’t readily identify, and a soft, diffused light emanated from… somewhere. It wasn’t sunlight, nor torchlight. It was a gentle luminescence that seemed to seep from the very fabric of the structure. Panic, cold and sharp, began to prickle at the edges of his resolve. Where was he? How had he gotten here? The last thing he remembered was the faint shimmer, the strange ripple in the air, and then… nothing.
As his eyes adjusted, he noticed figures moving in the distance. They were tall, clad in flowing garments of vibrant hues, their movements graceful and deliberate. He shielded his eyes, trying to make out details, but they remained indistinct, like shadows at the edge of perception. Then, one figure detached itself from the group, moving towards him with an unnerving swiftness.
As the figure drew closer, Li’s breath hitched. The shape of the woman, the curve of her cheek, the fall of her dark hair… it was eerily, impossibly, like Sun-jin. His heart leaped, a desperate bird trapped in his chest. He struggled to his feet, his voice a dry rasp. "Sun-jin?"
The woman stopped, her eyes, dark and luminous, fixing on him. A faint smile touched her lips, a smile that mirrored Sun-jin’s own, yet held a subtle, unreadable difference. She spoke, her voice a melody that was both familiar and utterly alien. The words tumbled out, soft and melodic, but they were not the language of his village, not the dialect he knew. It was Japanese, he realized with a jolt, but a cadence, an intonation, he had never heard before.
"Li-san," she said, her brow furrowing slightly with concern. "Daijoubu desu ka?" Are you well?
The question, though spoken in a foreign tongue, resonated with a warmth that pierced through his confusion. He could only stare, his mind reeling. This woman, so like his beloved Sun-jin, stood before him, speaking a language he barely understood, in a place that defied all logic. The scent in the air, the strange light, the unfamiliar figures – it all coalesced into a dizzying, disorienting reality. He took a step forward, his hand outstretched, a silent plea in his eyes, as the world around him continued to shift and shimmer, a tapestry woven from threads of time he could not comprehend.