WARRiOR (Akatsuki no Yona Fanfic)

3. Turning Point

Noo-ri didn't quite remember the moment everything went to hell.

One moment, Lord Yeon-ga was presenting his oh-so-charismatic speech to the masses-- and the next, his head rolled on the ground.

Noo-ri stood in the crowd, eyes wide and mouth hung agape.

Someone screamed, and time moved again. Someone was hollering, barking desperate orders, while the weaker of the crowd panicked like madmen, running from the palace.

Those were fools. Where could they go?

Noo-ri could've laughed, because all those proudly trained soldiers buckled their knees and let it happen, because they were too scared to defy.

In less than a day, the old monarch was overthrown.

The new lord, Lord Jang-woo, called for a census, and Noo-ri's world turned on its side, rupturing every sore bone and setting it all aflame.

-

Conscription was forced upon them, and every man above the age of six had to attend primary education to lead to knighthood. Every able female was to work in the factories and live through tough labour, making weapons.

Lord Jang-woo was preparing for war.

After all, their village was small but motivated and there was a nice other village beside them that would undeniably stand no chance. But Lord Jang-woo aimed higher. Higher than anyone thought they could fight, but idealism was strong.

Against who and for who was this done? No one really knew. Merchants who used to trade with them were attacked upon entry, and no outsiders were allowed to visit any longer.

The new lord was a madman, even more so than the previous king was.

The fever of pro-war propaganda was only growing, and his mother's sickness only crescendoed. He couldn't leave her, she needed him.

So Noo-ri tucked in the sash of his dress, and walked out of his house each day to work with the girls. Avoiding inspections and dodging gender-prone questions to avoid being found out. It was risky, but he had little choice.

Each day he cursed the statue further. They've gone as far as to inspect the boys of the village in case they had been hiding the birthmark all along. The more lecherous of the guards, have used it as an excuse to harass the girls of the village.

They only grew more depraved each day, and Noo-ri burned with fury. It wouldn't be long until they found him out. First for his gender, then for his scar.

And looking at the new king, Noo-ri had a dreadful feeling that they wouldn't want him to be a soldier anymore-- they might very well just kill him altogether.

(As an example of what comes after defiance.)

He couldn't stay here.

-

It was late into the night. The moon rose high and ominous in the darkness, full and round. A needle for self-defense tucked in his bun, he padded his way toward the river, fresh clothing in his hands.

With taxes raised and funds collected for mobilisation, resources ran short. Sang knew that soon enough, they'll begin to discard the sick and elderly because they couldn't hold their weight in this town.

Noo-ri was going to stay here if his life depended on it.

His mother needed him. His mother needed him. At least, in her final days-- he wanted to treasure her. He wasn't going to let a tyrannical ruler stop him.

His hand moved to his sleeve-- and suddenly, someone is beside him, and a hot arm took him by the wrist, dragging him aside.

He blinked, and he was shoved against the rocks, out of view from the village and expertly covered from the light. Noo-ri didn't need to see to know what was happening. Calloused hands, the heavy silhouette of steel gear--

Looks like some patrol-skipping soldier decided to get a whuff of bathing girls.

Pervert.

"Well, aren't you a pretty one?" his voice was a little above a whisper. He kept a hand firm as stone, on Noo-ri's wrist to hold it above his head-- the other locked tight around the she-male's jaws.

This left his top half open, bare skin in full view. Thankfully, his right shoulder was showcased, not his left, so the man didn't see the scar.

Not for long, though, if she let this happen.

Noo-ri found the man's eyes in the darkness, and scowled out a glare.

"I've heard of you, you're the girl that can't talk for the life of her," he made a laughing sound, "that means you can't scream and that works out well for me."

Noo-ri wasn't a stranger to these situations. He tugged at his trapped arm and couldn't move an inch of it even if he wriggled. He had a free hand, but curses, it wasn't his dominant hand. It could do little except weak pounds against his shoulder.

He couldn't risk retrieving the needle in his hair now-- it would get deflected too easily.

Sang was held down like this before, too. It stopped after he started dressing like a boy, so maybe this situation was kind of ironic--

"Be nice."

A grubby hand moved to his chest, and Noo-ri twisted his neck around and bit down on the hand around his face. This startled the man, and Noo-ri nabs the chance to free himself. He drops down, pries the needle off his bun in one smooth motion, and plants it through the man's left boot.

He howled, loud and low and full of curses.

He swung his arms, but Noo-ri swerved to dodge them, easier this time. He scooped behind him to nab his sword, then retreated closer to the river to be out of reach. The sword was heavy but it was a familiar weight. Holding it gave him a rush of nostalgia, and a part of him wanted to swing it just to test the waters.

His gaze empty and his features blank, he watched the man writhe, agonized and vainly trying to pry the needle from his foot-- too far into skin, crushed through bone, how could a girl have such strength?

Noo-ri remembered Sang. Sang was pathetic. A coward, weak, and always reliant on everyone around him.

Noo-ri wasn't.

Noo-ri was not going to be.

-

Sang was trained under Shuten, of the four warriors, he was the most skilled in a bladed weapon.

Even after dying and living fourteen years complacent and being the girl he wasn't, his heart and his soul remembered the routine, the moves, and the training drilled into his core.

Killing a man and throwing him in the river was easy.