/Associated Press Wire/26.06.98: Reports of strange, paranormal phenomena are surfacing in cities all across the world. Unexplained incidences such as objects moving seemingly on their own and unnatural micro-weather patterns are increasing daily. Some of these phenomena have been caught on tape, although their veracity has yet to be ascertained. Even more disturbing are reports of sudden shifts in personality of certain people and increasing occurrences of waking comas. The connection between the sharp increase in such reports and the appearance of what are now known as Heaven's and Hell's Gates has not gone unnoticed. Officials are urging everyone to obey their local curfews and remain indoors after dark, for their own safety./
Tian welcomed the ringing of the school bell with great relief; the day had seemed interminable. He crammed his things into his bag, then twisted in his seat to look behind him. "What do you want me to tell your dad?"
Jiang slouched even further in his chair. "The truth, I guess," he sighed. Then a panicked look crossed his face. "Just don't tell him what I actually said."
"Alright," Tian grinned. "But you know Shi will make sure he finds out anyway."
"That dog fart," Jiang muttered. "Hey, try and save one of the good swords for me; Shi can have the bent one."
Right. The swords. In his distraction over Xing's problems, he'd nearly forgotten that today they were going to start sparring with the long blunted practice swords, rather than just go through the taolu forms. He reassured Jiang with as much enthusiasm as he could muster, then left the room.
After-school detention for Jiang wasn't frequent, but it wasn't exactly rare either; on those days, Tian typically walked to wushu practice with a couple of other boys from their class.
"I wish we could use real swords," Dewei was saying as they headed down the street. "I mean, the wood ones are great and all, but that's not much fun."
Quan nodded excitedly. "Yeah; we'd run into an enemy, and be all - swoosh! Ha!" He mimicked a wild sword thrust with his arms, nearly taking Tian's head off.
"It's not for real fighting," Tian said, laughing as he ducked another swing. "It's a competitive art form!"
"Yeah, yeah; thanks, shifu-tortoise," Dewei said. "Hey, are you actually going to fight today, or are you just going to stand there and defend again?"
Tian rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess…"
"Don't forget, you said you'd help me with the third dan," Quan said. "I tried practicing it at home last night but I still couldn't get it."
"Because you keep crossing your arms the wrong way." Tian held his arms out in front of him, gripping a pretend sword. "It goes one, two, back, cross."
"One, two, back…wait, no, that's not what you did." Quan tried again to mimic the flow of movement that Tian had demonstrated. "One, two -"
Dewei interjected with his own pretend sword, "No, it's one, two - right?"
As they crossed an intersection, Tian automatically glanced up the street for traffic. To his surprise, he caught sight of Xing and Jiao-tu a little ways down. They were supposed to be heading to dance class; instead, Xing was standing stock still while her cousin tugged ineffectually at her arm.
"You guys go ahead - I'll catch up," Tian said with a weary sigh. Leaving the others to their imaginary sword fights, he jogged over to his sister and cousin. "What's going on?" he asked when he reached them.
"Xing says she isn't going to class!" Jiao-tu dropped the other girl's arm; Xing let it fall limply to her side. At first. Then she raised it slightly and looked curiously at the spot where Jiao-tu had been gripping her.
Not this again. "Xing, you have to go to dance class," Tian told her with all the patience that he could muster. "And don't ask 'why'," he added hurriedly when she opened her mouth to speak. "Mom won't be home until later, and you can't go home alone."
Still staring at her arm, she appeared to be thinking; without any change in expression, it was hard to tell. "I can go home with you?" she said at last. "We do that sometimes."
Tian rubbed the back of his head in frustration. She knew all this - why was she asking? "Yes; but only after wushu practice, when you don't have class."
"I don't want to go to dance class. It's pointless."
"Well…maybe you can -" he began, but Jiao-tu guessed what he was about to say.
"No!" she said, clasping her hands together. "I don't want to go by myself! It's not fair if Xing gets to skip and I don't; no way will Mom let me stay home!" She looked pleadingly to Tian.
She was probably right, Tian thought. He didn't want to be the one to make the decision to let the girls miss their class. But what was he supposed to tell them? Maybe he should just take them to practice with him and let Aunt decide what to do.
But before he could say anything, a familiar voice spoke up behind him. "Getting fighting lessons from little girls, dweeb?"
Tian's heart sank. He turned around, suddenly acutely aware that he was essentially alone in the street.
Honglian wasn't alone: one of his friends, the one who Tian had fought last time, was with him. They were both leaning against a wall, book bags slung over their shoulders, and smirking.
The insult was stupid: plenty of girls could fight; Tian's own mother had been one of the best female competitors in Shaanxi. But Jiao-tu jumped at her own shadow, and Xing couldn't bear to hurt the smallest insect. He glanced over at his sister, and was shocked to see her gazing balefully at Honglian. The cold, calculating look in her blue eyes was unsettling.
"What do you want?" Tian asked the older boys, putting as much bravado into his voice as he could muster.
Honglian pushed off from the wall and took a step forward. "We have unfinished business. This time, no teachers to interrupt."
"What, two against one? It didn't work for you last time," Tian shot back.
"You're welcome to ask your little girlfriends to protect you." Honglian grinned at his own joke; his friend guffawed obnoxiously.
Tian shifted his book bag on his shoulder. All he could think of was the look on Grandfather and Father's faces if he got into another fight.
"Come on," he told the girls with far more confidence than he felt. "I'll walk you to dance class."
Honglian snorted. "Running away? I knew you'd prove to be a coward, without that tough-guy cousin of yours to back you up!"
Tian felt his face burning, but he didn't rise to the bait. "Let's go," he said again. Jiao-tu nodded fearfully, clutching her bag to her stomach; but Xing didn't take her eyes off of Honglian.
"You pushed me last time," she said quietly. "That hurt."
"You shouldn't have gotten in my way then," Honglian sneered. "Do it again, and I'll knock you flat."
Tian took an angry step forward and both older boys flinched back; but Xing moved at the same time, reaching out her hand as if, ludicrously, to push Honglian down herself. Tian grabbed her arm before she could get hurt. A spark of static electricity zapped his hand painfully, but he didn't let go.
The other boys were watching him warily, their weight shifted into defensive stances. He'd have to go through them to get to Grandfather's; the dance studio was in the other direction. No doubt he'd have help from his friends if he ran to the wushu school. But, then Grandfather would know - about the fight, and that fact that Tian needed help.
"I'm taking them to their dance lesson," Tian said firmly. "You can follow me there." Without waiting to see what the teenagers would do, he turned away and tugged Xing's arm almost roughly. She walked alongside him without argument, though her head remained turned in Honglian's direction. Jiao-tu hurried after them.
"We're going to be late for practice if we waste any more time here," he heard the nameless boy say.
"Yeah…kicking a little dweeb's ass would be a good warm-up, but shifu Ko won't be happy if we're late. You're lucky we've got somewhere else to be right now!" Honglian called after him.
Tian barely heard the words over the rushing of the blood in his ears. He couldn't believe he'd just avoided a fight; he also couldn't believe the look on their faces when he'd moved on them.
They'd been afraid of him.
And even worse…he'd liked it. Stomach knotting in shame, he led Xing and Jiao-tu to their dance class.
~~~~o~~~~
It wasn't until he'd seen Xing and Jiao-tu safely inside the dance studio that Tian allowed himself to breathe freely again. He sprinted all the way to the Xu residence, arriving just in time for group warm-up. Grandfather's brow crinkled slightly at his belated entrance; Uncle eyed the door after Tian entered, then sighed and shook his head.
After quickly ducking into the changing room to put on his uniform, Tian took his place with the rest of the students. They started out by reviewing the traditional wushu sword forms. The rack of practice swords were a decade old at least, worn and well-used. They were really more like staves than swords - the blades were blunted to the point where they could hardly be called blades at all. Tian selected one of the straightest swords.
For all his reluctance to work with actual weapons, Tian had found to his surprise that he enjoyed it. Uncle put them through their paces, calling out various forms. Tian slid from one pose to the next; whether the grip was one-handed or two, the sword was like an extension of his arm. The extra weight shifted his center of balance and required more strength than the basic taolu routines did, but he could appreciate the challenge. When they progressed to the more difficult forms, he noticed with some satisfaction that other students were watching him carefully and trying to mimic his movements.
Grandfather was moving up and down the lines, hands clasped behind his back as he silently appraised each boy's progress, gently correcting a posture here and there. When he got to Tian, he nodded slightly, then moved on. Tian felt a warm glow of pride that lasted even when they broke to begin sparring.
They divided up into teams, as if it were an actual competition. This was what Tian had been dreading. Fighting hand-to-hand was bad enough, but even with the lack of any sort of edge, the practice swords could still hurt. He'd just have to be extra careful and make sure not to make any offensive moves.
He was a little dismayed to find that his first sparring partner would be Shi. But he wiped the perspiration from his brow, readied himself in a defensive stance, and waited for the other boy to make the first move. Shi locked eyes with Tian, leaning a little to his right. But it was just a feint: he started every match like that. Tian prepared for a left-side strike, and so was ready when he lunged.
Despite his reliance on the same repetitive moves, Shi was nearly as good as Jiang was; and as the match continued, Tian was hard-pressed to keep up his defense. The boys who had already finished their fights were watching with interest. Under the attention of so many eyes, Tian felt his confidence waver, and he nearly lost his balance as he fended off a low strike. Shi's lip curled up in a pleased smirk.
On impulse, Tian stepped forward aggressively. He didn't even strike, but Shi stumbled back in surprise, tripping over his own feet and landing hard on his rear. Some of the boys laughed; Tian grinned at his accomplishment.
Grandfather, however, gave Tian a piercing look, and he felt suddenly ashamed of the move. Fortunately, Uncle clapped his hands to signal a changing of partners, and a new group of boys stepped forward to begin sparring. Tian moved to the edge of the room to watch.
"Man, that was great!" Dewei said, punching Tian in the shoulder. "Why don't you fight like that more often? Jiang's going to be pissed that he missed it!"
"I didn't mean to do it," Tian said uncomfortably. Shi's expression had held that same kernel of fear that he'd seen in Honglian's eyes earlier.
He was saved from having to explain himself further when the door to the studio banged open; Tian - and most of the others - turned towards the disruption to see Jiao-tu run inside, angry tears wetting her cheeks. She plopped herself down against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chest so that all that was visible of her face were her plastic purple glasses. Aunt appeared in the doorway behind her, looking worried. Grandfather caught her eye; she sighed, glanced over at her daughter, then left, closing the door softly behind her.
Tian watched the door for another moment, but there was no sign of Xing.
Uncle recalled his pupils' attention with a sharp whistle; the sparring matches resumed, Jiao-tu quickly forgotten in the excitement of half a dozen fights.
Grandfather had seated himself on the floor next to Jiao-tu, casually as if he had just happened to want to sit at that moment, and the spot that he'd chosen was only coincidentally next to her. Tian edged over as close as he dared; he was supposed to be paying attention to the matches.
"It was Xing," Jiao-tu was saying softly between dry sobs. "She was being mean again."
"What was she saying?" Grandfather asked calmly, as if Xing was nasty to people on a daily basis.
"Nothing - she didn't say anything, to anybody. She acted like none of us existed. She even fell asleep in the middle of class!"
"She fell asleep?"
Jiao-tu toyed distractedly with her dragon charm. "Just for a moment. When Miss Fa woke her up, Xing told her that she should leave her alone, then got up and walked out. That's when I called Mom to come get us. Xing started walking down the street on her own, and when I caught up, she told me that she didn't want me walking with her." Another sob shook her small frame. "She hates me now, and I don't know why."
"That's not true," Tian interjected. He looked at Grandfather; when the old man nodded, he left the mat and sat down on the other side of Jiao-tu, laying his practice sword across his knees. "Xing didn't get very much sleep last night. She's just cranky." After all, she'd stayed up half the night waiting for her supper; she'd been so tired that she'd fallen asleep at the table before she could finish her soup. Tian had barely managed to wake her to get her back into bed before their parents discovered that they were up.
Grandfather was looking pensive. "It isn't like Xing to be so rude, even if she is tired. Did your mother take her home already?"
Jiao-tu nodded, sniffing. The surge of hope that Tian felt at the idea of Grandfather having a talk with his sister was dashed immediately by his cousin's acknowledgment that she wasn't there.
Grandfather patted Jiao-tu's arm kindly. "Well, whatever is bothering Xing, I'm sure it isn't your fault."
"But…I was mean too," Jiao-tu admitted. "I told her that I didn't want her to be my cousin anymore."
Tian felt his stomach twist. "What did Xing say?"
"That it didn't matter." She rubbed angrily at her eyes.
Grandfather was giving Tian a curious look, but it Jiao-tu he spoke to. "Go inside and have your supper, Xiao-tu. We can talk more tonight."
"But I want to stay and watch the sparring…" All it took was one stern look; Jiao-tu climbed to her feet with a sigh and headed for the door. Jiang was coming in just as she reached it; she pushed passed him roughly.
Jiang looked after her with a worried frown. "What'd I miss?"
"An hour of training," Grandfather said, and Jiang visibly blanched. Their shifu took one of the remaining practice swords from the rack and tossed it to his pupil. Jiang caught it one-handed. He looked glumly at the obvious bend in the blade, but didn't complain.
The two boys took their place in the group that was up for sparring next. As soon as Grandfather had turned to assess the pairs that were currently on the mats, Tian handed his sword to his cousin. Jiang accepted the swap with a grin.
Tian found himself partnered with Quan for the next round. As he took his place on the mat, he replayed that morning in his mind. Xing had hardly said two words at breakfast; even worse than the silence had been the look of helplessness that had flitted across Mother's face, which she'd quickly masked behind a false smile when she caught Tian watching her.
Quan made a thrust with his sword, which Tian countered easily.
The walk to school in the morning had been miserable, with Jiao-tu refusing to speak to Xing (and making sure that everyone knew it) and Xing ignoring them all completely. What exactly was bothering her? Despite what he'd told Grandfather, he knew it was more than just sleepiness.
One more week, he thought. Then they'd be up at the lake house for summer, and things would go back to normal. Maybe he'd even be able to find Xing's bracelet; he would search every inch of the lake if he had to.
Across from him, Quan moved his arms into the beginning of the third dan. He always got that form wrong; Tian stepped quickly to the side in a preemptive dodge - and the blunted blade smacked him hard in the ribs. Instinctively, Tian lashed out with his own sword, catching the side of the other boy's knee. Quan's whoop of triumph turned into a grunt of pain as he collapsed onto the mat.
"Crap," Tian said, dropping his sword and kneeling by Quan. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you. Are you alright?"
"It's not bad," Quan said through gritted teeth, clutching his knee.
A crowd was beginning to gather around them. Uncle gently but firmly moved a couple of students aside, then knelt down on the mat next to Quan. "Move your hands," he ordered, and inspected the injury. Tian stood so that he was out of the way.
"Damn, man, what'd you do?" Jiang muttered, coming up to stand beside Tian.
"I didn't mean to," Tian said again. "I wasn't paying attention…"
"It's nothing serious," Uncle announced to the crowd. "Ping, run and get an ice pack from the kitchen; that will help the swelling. Dewei, take Quan over to the side."
Quan was able to stand; leaning on Dewei's arm, he limped over to sit against the wall. Tian followed.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
Quan grinned at him. "Yeah, it's fine - I got you, though!"
Tian smiled back, though he didn't feel much relief.
"First Shi, now Quan," Dewei said to Tian. "When did you finally grow a spine?"
The words were probably supposed to be encouraging, but they just soured in his stomach.
"Wait, what'd Tian do to Shi?" Jiang interjected.
Quan laughed. "Knocked him flat on his ass!"
"What, seriously? And I missed it?"
Tian ran a hand through his hair. "It was more of an accident, really…"
Fortunately Uncle called the practice back into session, giving Tian an excuse to brush off Jiang's congratulatory shoulder-punch.
The rest of their practice was uneventful. Tian did his best to keep his focus; but his heart just wasn't in it, and he lost the following two matches without much of a fight. The whole time, he kept imaging Grandfather's eyes on him - though every time he looked, his shifu's attention was elsewhere.
At last, class was dismissed. Tian apologized again to Quan, who had discarded his ice pack and was now able to stand without help, though he still limped on his way out the door. Jiang joined Tian at the rack of swords, grinning widely. But no sooner had he opened his mouth - no doubt to ask Tian about the incident with Shi - than his father called out, "Jiang!"
Jiang's grin froze. Cringing slightly, he turned around.
"House," Uncle ordered. "Now."
Jiang swore under his breath. "Shi told him what I said, huh?"
"I don't know; I got here late. But probably."
His cousin gave him a speculative look, but Tian didn't explain. They walked together to the door of the studio with the last of the other boys. Tian stooped to pick up his book bag; he had just straightened when a hand gripped his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. He turned to see Grandfather's stern expression.
"Stay and talk with me for a moment," Grandfather said. "Jiang, go on - your father needs a word."
Jiang's shoulders slumped. "Yeah…see ya tomorrow," he told Tian, then exited the room, dragging his feet.
Grandfather led Tian back to the center of the practice room. The blue mats had been re-stacked along the side wall, and all the practice swords were back in their racks. Tian wondered if he was going to have to clear his head without the support of a wall this time. That didn't sound like much fun.
"I didn't mean to hit Quan," he said. "I swapped swords with Jiang just before, and the balance on the new one was different."
Grandfather merely raised an eyebrow.
"…And, I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing," Tian admitted glumly.
Shifu-Grandfather made no acknowledgment that he'd heard what Tian had said. Instead, he took up a stance that Tian recognized as the beginning of a tai chi flow. "Join me," he said.
"But that's - " Tian began, before his brain caught up with his mouth and cut off the words for old people. Suppressing a confused sigh, he mimicked Grandfather's position.
Tian had never done tai chi before, though he'd watched Grandfather often enough. It was a lot easier than the sword forms.
…At least, he'd thought it was easier than the sword forms. Actually moving from pose to pose with the same graceful precision as his grandfather, but without disrupting his flow of energy, was nearly impossible. The pace was too slow. Maybe -
"Don't rush it," Grandfather said placidly, not even looking at Tian. "Breathe through the movements."
Easy for him to say. Tian's brow furrowed in concentration, and he mentally called up the manta that Grandfather was so fond of. Focus on the present…forget the past…emotions are nothing but unnecessary distractions…
But in his attempt to slow his racing thoughts, he lost his focus on what his body was doing and stumbled. He plopped down onto the hard floor with an irritated sigh.
Grandfather settled next to him, reaching into his pocket to pull out his pipe and tobacco pouch. "I know you didn't mean to hurt your friend," he said as he tamped some tobacco into the bowl. "Just like I know that you didn't intend to frighten the other boy."
So, he had noticed that. Tian thought of earlier, with Honglian, but didn't say anything.
The sweet scent of pipe tobacco filled the air as Grandfather continued, "Tell me what's going on with your sister."
"I don't know," Tian admitted. "That's the problem. She's just…not acting like herself." He shrugged, unable to put into words the hundred little things that had been slightly off about Xing lately.
"Have you asked her about it?"
He picked idly at a seam in the wooden floor. "I guess…every time I've tried to talk with her, I've been impatient or annoyed." He was a little ashamed of that. Whatever was bothering Xing, he ought to have made more of an effort. He was her older brother, after all.
Grandfather puffed pensively on his pipe. "What about your parents? Have they spoken to her?"
"She won't talk to Mom. Last night Mom told her that she had to apologize to Jiao-tu, but Xing refused so Mom sent her to bed without supper. We haven't even seen Dad in a few days, not since Xing's been in her weird mood; he's had to work too late every day. But he's coming home early tonight," Tian added, suddenly hopeful. "We're going to get out the telescope and look for the new stars. He'll talk to her and find out what's wrong."
Mother would probably even let Xing stay up late and stargaze with them, even though it was a school day tomorrow. Xing loved stargazing almost as much as Tian did. A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, she used to; but he ignored it.
Grandfather frowned a little. "I wish An would have called me yesterday," he said quietly, as if to himself. "Well, we'll see you all for dinner on Saturday. If Xing isn't feeling better by then, I'll speak with her. Then we may have to see about a doctor."
"You don't think she's sick, do you?" Tian found it hard to believe that a doctor would be necessary. If Father couldn't help her, then certainly Grandfather could.
The old man squeezed his shoulder. "Don't worry - whatever it is, we'll get it sorted out. In the meantime, I'm sure she'll be fine, with you looking out for her."
The door to the studio opened, and Grandmother poked her head in. "It's getting late, you two," she chided. "Tian, are you staying for dinner?"
"No, I'll eat at home," Tian said, climbing to his feet.
Grandfather walked with Tian into the outdoor courtyard, which was already in full shadow. "It's almost time for the curfew; stay, and your uncle will walk you home later."
"I can make it if I run," Tian said. When Grandfather frowned, he added, "I really want to talk to Xing." Maybe if he wasn't as short with her as he had been lately, she would feel comfortable enough to tell him what was going on with her.
His grandfather hesitated, but then nodded.
"Here," Grandmother said, holding out a handkerchief-tied bundled. "Some early pears I picked today - make sure your mother gets them."
"I will." Tian stuffed the pears into his book bag, then ran out the gate and into the street, pausing only long enough to wave goodbye to his grandparents.
~~~~o~~~~
The streets were deserted as Tian sprinted the four blocks home. The sun had already disappeared behind even the shorter buildings; he was really cutting it close.
Despite the empty streets, the city wasn't devoid of life; the curfew just meant that everyone was indoors. Tian dashed through puddles of warm light that were spilling from windows thrown open in the hopes of a breeze in the balmy evening. The sound of chatter and laughter and tinny television music masked his pounding footsteps.
Everything would be alright once Father had a chance to talk with Xing, he told himself. Even when she was in her worst moods, or in tears because she'd found a dead bird, Father just had to ruffle her hair to get a smile out of her. She'd apologize to Jiao-tu on Saturday, and they would all be friends again.
As he rounded the final corner onto his street, he spotted two policemen standing right outside the stairwell to his building. Tian halted in his tracks, then threw himself into the shadow of a parked car, grateful that he was still wearing his black wushu uniform. He didn't think the officers had seen him.
He realized that he didn't actually know what the punishment was for breaking the curfew. Would they arrest him if he tried to walk by? In school he'd been taught to always go to a policeman for help, but…he'd heard stories from adults, especially the ones around his grandparents' age. He didn't want to be caught breaking the law.
Tian waited for a full minute, then peeked around the side of the car. The men were still there, smoking cigarettes; they gave no sign that they would be leaving any time soon. His best bet was probably to just go around.
He backtracked, going all the way around the block to the back of his apartment building; no policemen in sight. He'd left his bedroom window open: he could get in that way.
Tian stood beneath the window and looked up; it was only three stories. He'd never attempted this climb before, though he'd thought about it often enough. The first step would be to scale the small ficus tree at the corner of the building. He shifted his school bag on his shoulders, then started up.
The tree was easy; he'd climbed it with Jiang plenty of times. Even Jiao-tu could manage the lower limbs. He made his way through the thick leaves, until the branches grew thinner and more wobbly. Carefully, he eased himself out along the highest branch that would hold his weight, inching towards the side of the building.
There was a lip of bricks circling every floor, that protruded a couple of inches from the face of the wall along the base of the windows; the branch was high enough that the ring around the second floor was level with Tian's chest. Gripping the brick edge tightly, he shifted his weight forward to take the strain off the branch that he was standing on.
The bough dipped alarmingly at his movement, and his heart skipped a beat. He was still about a foot to the right of the window, awkwardly suspended two stories high. Sweat beaded on his brow as he made the mistake of looking down. Maybe he should have taken up Grandfather's offer to stay for dinner after all. He could hear Grandfather's voice in his head, admonishing him to think before he acted.
Too late for that now; focus on the present, Tian told himself sternly. Gathering his strength, he pushed off from the branch while simultaneously levering himself up in a scrambling movement. He was now perched precariously on the narrow lip of the brick ring. If he stretched out his arm…yes, he could reach the side of the window frame. He pressed himself flush against the wall and crept the short distance to the wide sill of the window that was right below his. Fortunately the Sun family all seemed to be in another part of the apartment, and no one was in the room to be frightened by his sudden appearance. From here, he could climb up to his own window the same way he'd gotten onto the roof the other night.
At last, Tian heaved himself over the window sill. He brushed aside his tasseled good-luck medallion and climbed with relief into his dark bedroom. It was full night now, with only the street lights outside to light his path across the room to the closed door. Xing's bed was empty; that was a good sign. She must be watching television with Mother.
Tian dropped his school bag onto the floor, then paused to catch his breath a moment before going out into the main room, trying to figure out how to explain his presence. Maybe he could pretend that he'd come in through the front door when nobody was looking.
…Okay, he probably couldn't get away with that. But surely his parents would prefer that he climb in through the window rather than get arrested and shipped off to some prison camp somewhere.
Tian was about to pull the door open when a man's shout halted him. Then a woman's voice said, "What are you - no!"
He stood, rooted to the spot, his blood running cold in his veins. The woman had sounded just like Mother. But it must have just been the television, he told himself, ignoring that fact that his parents would never let Xing watch a frightening show. It had sounded so real though…
Forcing himself to take a slow, deep breath, Tian turned the handle on the door and stepped out.
It hadn't been the television.
He stared at the scene in front of him, uncomprehending. The first thing that he saw was Father, lying in the center of the floor. His body was limp, as if he was asleep - but his eyes were open and staring up at the ceiling, a look of horrified surprise on his face. Tian knew - he tried to deny it, to refuse to believe it - but he knew that his father was dead.
Mother was kneeling by Father; she held his head in her lap. Tears were streaming down her face as she stared into her dead husband's eyes, repeating "No, no, no," over and over again, as if the repetition would somehow make it true. She ran a hand down Father's bloodless cheek. "Xinkun, please; I can't - not without you."
Tian's heart was pounding so loudly that it echoed in his ears. He tried to force himself to move, to say something, but it was as if his body had frozen up.
Then Mother looked up, her eyes wide with shock. "How could you do this?" she whispered in a raw voice. "Why?"
At first Tian thought that she was speaking to him; then he realized that his sister was standing just a few steps in front of him. He hadn't even noticed her before.
"He tried telling me what to do," Xing said matter-of-factly. "I didn't like it."
"What kind of a monster are you?" Mother asked, choked with tears, and the sheer horror in her words sent a shiver of terror down Tian's spine. "What did you do with Xing - you're not my daughter!"
"Family bonds are meaningless. I thought you would understand that."
Tian had thought that he'd gotten used to his sister's lack of emotion over the past few days, but she didn't even sound human anymore. He wanted to go to her, to muss up her hair and hear her laugh, to prove to himself that this cold, unfeeling creature in front of him was still Xing. But he still couldn't move; he could hardly feel his body at all.
Just then Mother's gaze slid past Xing, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of Tian standing in the doorway. She shook her head violently. "No - no, get out!" she begged, and reached towards her daughter as if to grab her.
"Oh, I see," Xing said, and took a step forward. Mother's hand closed around Xing's arm; but at the same instant, an eerie blue glow surrounded the girl. There was a crackling noise. Mother's entire body seized up; her mouth opened wordlessly, then she collapsed across Father's chest and lay there, unmoving.
Then Xing turned to Tian, as if she'd known the whole time that he was there.
"You understand - don't you, Brother?" she asked. The red gleam in her eyes was no trick of the light.