From the Dragon's Pool, the Phoenix Dances

On the west side of Naraka sat Lucky House, a tall and narrow five-story building housing about 30 residents on

each floor. Each floor contained two rows of sixteen bunks with a sliding wooden door for each bed, like partitioned coffins. The back of the floor was the only bathroom with a toilet that only flushed half the time.

Komo lived on the fifth floor where Tiger and Shu lived as well. Komo was lucky to live so near the roof, her escape from the incessant sounds of television, snoring, and sex. Komo’s bed was the top bunk of the fourteenth bunk in the second row. Tiger lived right below her. Today, as Komo arrived back from the Jade Palace, she went straight for the roof. Shu was waiting for her in his rooftop hut.

“Want some?” He said, gesturing to a warm bowl of barbeque meat and rice. Komo sat down on the small

wooden stool and picked up a pair of chopsticks. Shu took off his welding helmet and put down his tools. His skin sagged around his cheeks, and he huffed as he walked over. His worn hands reached for the second pair of chopsticks.

“All this mechanical work, and you still refuse to work on proper safety measures,” Komo sighed.

“I live on the roof. All the fumes will head straight into the sky, not my lungs.” He winked playfully. Komo knew

convincing him to work properly and safely was fruitless. He claimed that true mechanics required grit, and he hated the prim and frill mechanics of Tusita. Cleanliness was never a concern because his works always came out polished and refined. But he was getting old, and perhaps years working around toxins and physical labor increased his aging.

“How was work?” He asked, smacking rice through thin lips.

“Fine,” Komo replied. She worked as a bartender at the Jade Palace and had perfected the unapproachable,

unfuckable look. She had no respect for any man who walked through those golden doors.

“How’s Bunny?” Shu asked coolly.

“Wang Shaolin came again today.” Komo closely observed Shu.

“Hm.” He chuckled, but his jaw clenched, and his eyes flitted to his work shelf. Komo had known him long enough

to know that he did that whenever he felt uneasy, to remind himself that an assortment of weapons was just within reach. Though Shu strictly worked on nonviolent projects, he could never be too safe in Naraka.

“Fellas!” Tiger appeared from the stairway. He clambered over, holding a pack of beer. Out of every other bone

thin resident of Lucky House, Tiger was the only one who was round and potbellied.

“Make space, make space.”

Shu hastily pulled aside another stool. “Do you want any?”

Tiger waved him away and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

​

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​

“Tusita is a magical place,” Tiger said as they smoked together on the rooftop. Tiger and Shu were the closest

things Komo had to a family.

“I was the greatest warrior of the Huli Jing.” He stretched over the rails and blew smoke. “In my free time, I

wrestled. There was a ring in an old speakeasy where we fought. My most magnificent fight—” He swept the cigarette across the sky, tendrils of smoke following behind him “—a tiger. This giant cat bared his fangs at me and leaped, but I was stronger and faster. It was just a big orange cat, after all. It whimpered as I defeated it. That was how I got my name, the great and mighty Tiger.” He laughed. He gave no other details. All his stories were like that: vague, worldly, and reminiscent of Tusita.

Tusita liked to pretend Naraka was a separate state, but they were never given any proper government or

provisions. Naraka stayed the sinking, wet slums while Tusita progressed farther in welfare and technology. The Huli Jing, the police force of Tusita, bridged the two worlds, as enforcers and rescuers. Some patrolled the streets of Naraka, jailing traffickers and drug lords. Some took advantage of Naraka, and whatever illegal drug trade those Huli Jing involved themselves in, they did it boldly and almost proudly. If the people of Naraka died or were hurt, who would care? The Huli Jing was both revered and respected, hated and admired.

As Komo got ready for bed that night, Tiger caught her as she was climbing to the top bunk. He patted a space on

his bed next to him. His mattress was yellow and full of holes with a stack of pornography magazines in the corner.

“What’s up, Tiger?” He handed her a gold, red, and jade small dagger. She flipped it over a couple times in her

hands. “What’s this?”

“It’s the blade I received at the end of my initiation. I’m getting old, though. I’m not worthy of it anymore.”

“Oh, Tiger, don’t say that. I can’t take this from you.” Komo always thought that Tiger’s stories were little

fantastical make-believes, dreaming of life before he ended up in a real coffin. But Komo realized that whether Tiger was telling the truth or not, this was important to him. She couldn’t take that away.

“Please, Komo. You are so bright and strong. My glory days are over. Every time I see this, it only makes me

sorrowful.”

“Ok, alright. Thank you. Goodnight, Tiger.” She smiled softly and kissed him on the forehead. Komo, in her 2 ft

wide and 6 ft long coffin home, felt the thick humidity close around her. She kept the door half-open, so there could be some air circulation but also to block out some of the noise. She kept all her toiletries in a neat bag under her clothes, which always brushed her face as she slept. She had a small safe where she stored all her valuables and cash she earned from working at the Palace. Komo was never a claustrophobic person, but a small part of her dreaded coming back here every night to this damp, compact space.

She played with the dagger that Tiger gave her. The edge was polished and sharpened, and the green handle was

so smooth. It was too light to be real jade, and the blade was dull, poorly made. She wondered how much Tiger bought this for off the streets of Naraka. Komo reached for the safe and twisted the lock three times to the left, twice to the right. It clicked, and the metal hinges swung open. There were stacks of cash bound and piled up and in the back, lay a glittering blade. She took it out. She remembered an Elder slicing it into her palm, a warm and sharp pain. Her blood ran into the dagger, infusing the gold with her very own red. Her fingers ran over the crest of a fox on the bottom of the hilt. This one was real.

Komo used to be annoyed by Tiger’s stories, but after living in this coffin for half as long as Tiger did, she began

to understand and even look forward to his stories. Though his stories may be made up, they always seemed to resonate with her. When she looked at her own blade, she felt nostalgic, bittersweet, and a tinge of resentment. But, she had left that part of her in the past, so she put it back in the safe and turned off her lights.

​

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​

Bunny’s skin seemed to glow as she floated over to the bar. The Palace opened at 8, and she was getting ready for

her clients.

“Need anything?” Komo asked, wiping the glasses down.

“You still have grenadine?” said Bunny, leaning over the counter. Even without any makeup, she still looked

beautiful.

Komoe handed over the bottle of sticky red syrup.

“Thank you.” Bunny stretched out the last word and beamed at her friend. Komo watched her walk back to her

chambers. She did not want to know what the grenadine was for. Komo was still flustered by Bunny’s request when the bells by the door tinkled, signifying someone had come in.

“Palace opens at 8,” Komo said, still wiping down the glasses. When she did not hear the person leave, she

looked up, and her heart dropped.

“Hello, Komo.” Wang Shaolin slid around the counter to the back of the bar. His black robes adorned with silver

clouds swooped behind him. On the back were nine tails, red and silver all flicked upwards.

“8, Shaolin.” Komo put the glass down. “You can’t be back here.”

“Ah, but I see no one objecting. Right?” He yelled into the corridors. If anyone heard, no one responded. “See? I

am a welcomed guest here.” He spread his arms wide and chuckled. He put his hand over hers. Komo’s entire body stiffened like a bolt of lightning had fired through her skull. She immediately swiped her hand away but regretted it because she hated showing weakness in front of him.

“Don’t worry. I’m just here to help you.” He warmly laughed, with no hint of malice behind his voice. There was a

time when his laugh and touch meant something kind and soft, but she had since learned that no matter how gentle he seemed, there was always something insidious lurking underneath.

“Bunny is not ready yet.” She shifted away. Shaolin, like every other guest who wandered in here, was smitten with

Bunny. But she was reserved for the wealthiest and most prominent, and Shaolin happened to be the best for both. He was Huli Jing after all. Moreover, he was nine-tails, the highest order.

“Then I’ll wait.” He leaned back in his chair and looked up at Komo. She held his gaze, then looked away.

“Fine, then.” Komo was not scared of any man from Naraka or Tusita, but she knew if Wang Shaolin wanted to

burn down the Jade Palace and everything in it, he would. And no one would stop him. Bunny’s door creaked open, and Komo heard her soft padded footsteps.

“My, my.” Shaolin gasped lightly when he saw her. She was wearing a purple lace slip dress and a matching

cardigan with fur trim. Komo was heavily unsettled by the interaction, and Shaolin knew. Of course, he knew every curve of her body and all her tells. He knew it, and he loved to mess with her.

​

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Bunny does not remember the feeling of being fully flesh. When Bunny was nine, she got caught up in the debris

of a nearby factory explosion and lost her arm and both legs. Shu, rummaging through the rubble for parts and gold, found the young girl close to death. Maybe he took pity or realized the girl was a perfect specimen for his new prosthetics, or perhaps both, but he replaced Bunny’s leg, hand, and every other damaged body part with sleek metal.

She learned early on that the men of Naraka would only ever want her for her body, and that as long as she kept

living alone on the streets, her thin silver limbs were no match for the brute force of drunken men. She went back to Shu occasionally to get repairs or have a roof over her head for the night, but she never stayed for long. Over the years, they built a strange relationship. In a way, he created her, at least a part of her. He had breathed life back into her. On one hand, he literally owned her; the prosthetics were his until she bought them off of him like a real customer. He didn’t mind though, and he knew it was unlikely she would ever give him the money. On the other hand, he was like a father to her, as he practically raised her. But she got out as soon as she could and learned to take care of herself and make her own repairs. Bunny thought dependence was a weakness, even if it was a parent. Shu believed the same thing, and since he was not really her father, he could only watch her slip away and silently pray for her safety.

Everywhere she went to seek a job, she was turned away. They said she was “bad for business”, and the only job

she held before the Palace was a dishwasher at a restaurant. She was subsequently thrown out after a customer saw the flash of her prosthetics and reported the restaurant. But at the Jade Palace, Bunny turned this into a profit. Here, her sleek hair and slender body were weapons. She made men kneel at her feet, no matter how big or rich they were. Here, she was worshipped, flesh, metal, and all.

Indeed, she was everything worth worshiping. She was wonderfully feminine yet daunting. Her eyes were like

moons, her eyebrows were dark and full, and when she smiled, her eyes crested. Every man and woman swiveled their heads as she walked by. Her metal limbs that used to scare people only captivated them now, and Wang Shaolin was no different.

“Hello, darling.” He smiled a sickly-sweet, poisonous smile.

“Shaolin.”

He stroked her face, tipping her chin up. “Look at me when you speak.”

“Apologies. I’m just a bit tired today.” Bunny had tried countless ways to deny Shaolin without explicitly saying no,

but she knew she would never succeed. She met men who stunk of manure, pedophiles, and necrophiliacs, but no one disgusted her like Wang Shaolin. Even if he was her highest payer, she did not care.

“Not too tired for me, though.”

“Never.”

​

...

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The bell clanged loudly, signifying a five-minute warning before the Palace closed. Men clambered out of rooms,

still rushing to put on their shirts. Wang Shaolin stepped out of Bunny’s room, not a single hair out of place. It was like he had never undressed. He drifted to the bar where Komo was cleaning and closing up for the night. She did not have to turn around to know that Shaolin had stopped in front of her. His presence was indubitably his, strong and murky, like the bottom of a whiskey glass or the heavy clouds that shield the sun on an overcast day.

“Komo,” he spoke, his voice stern but soft.

Komo sighed and brushed some hair out of her eyes. She turned to face Shaolin, leaning against the counter.

Under the dim lights, his face was smooth and calm. Komo narrowed her eyes, trying to see what was lying under his carefully crafted exterior. She was sure he was hiding or plotting something, and she stayed a distance away.

“Join us again. Come back to the Huli Jing. You will serve by my side as equals, I promise.”

Komo faltered for a second, taken aback by his request.

“What?”

“You see what the Huli Jing has become. What Tusita, Naraka has become. We can rebuild it, together.

Remember us, fighting side by side?”

“You really don’t know me, do you?” Komo scoffed. “You know exactly why I left. It was corrupt from the very

beginning. It always will be.”

“We can change that! I am Nine-Tails now. I have more power, and I can give you that power too. Together, we

could do anything.”

“What do you want the Huli Jing to be then? What is your vision?” Komo indulged in Shaolin momentarily.

“Anything, Komo, anything! We could clean up Naraka, reform it. There are too many gangs plotting, brawling,

trying to usurp us. We squash them, and we can be one. There wouldn’t have to be places like the Jade Palace. You wouldn’t have to live in a place like this.”

For a second, she believed Shaolin’s words. She did remember them, fighting side by side. They were both young,

courageous, and naïve, too willing to battle. She remembered being best friends, then more than that. But she also remembered the Battle of Blood Ridge. They charged into the town, so valiantly and blind. At the end, they stood like kings, but when the dust settled, they only saw rivers of blood.

“Bullshit.” Komo spat. “You are everything that is wrong with the Huli Jing. You are cruel and tyrannical. You know

what? I do remember us fighting. I remember Blood Ridge.”

“I thought we moved past that.” Shaolin sighed. “You know it was necessary. They were conspiring against us –

the whole village. Did you even see the schematics? We would have been dust. It was them or us, Komo. I’m not apologizing for saving our people.”

“They were children, Shaolin, children! They didn’t even have guns!”

“They were brainwashed! They gave up their lives for a false cause. That’s not our fault.”

“No, Shaolin. It’s yours. You’re a murderer and a fraud. Get out of here. I’ll kill you if I see you again. I mean it.”

“Fine.” He turned to leave, and just as he was about to exit, he swiveled towards her again. He looked almost sad

or perhaps regretful. “Komo, I really wish you had said yes.” The door shut behind him.

​

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​

“Hey,” Komo said, crouching next to Bunny.

“Oh, hey,” Bunny replied, her voice flat and weary.

“Smoking will ruin that pretty face of yours,” Komo joked, but Bunny just looked to the side and exhaled. She

could tell Bunny was not in the mood. Komo waited for Bunny to speak, but as it came more apparent that she wouldn’t, the silence between them grew thicker. Komo wanted to know what happened with Shaolin. Typically, the indistinct sounds drifted from each room, but with Shaolin, it was always eerily quiet. Komo wanted to reach out and hold her hand. She wanted to hug her and keep her close, tucked under her wing like a baby bird. Instead, she sat in the same place, fiddling with the gravel beneath her feet.

“Is everything ok?” Komo asked, even though she already knew Bunny’s answer.

“Yeah. Just, long day.” Bunny looked over at Komo and gave her a weak chuckle. Komo shifted closer to her until

their shoulders were touching. Bunny looked up at Komo, her eyes red and inky. Komo tried her best to not frown because Bunny often mistook her concern as pity, and she hated being pitied. Bunny’s arms were chill, and Komo realized she was shivering. She was still wearing the purple set, with only a thin shawl thrown over.

“Jesus, Bunny.” Komo took off her own jacket and put it around Bunny’s shoulders. “You gotta take care of

yourself.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Bunny pulled the jacket closer around her and burrowed her head into Komo’s chest. Komo

sighed, relieved that she had warmed up again. They had been good friends for a while, but Komo was always afraid that something irreversible would happen, and she would lose Bunny. Especially now when Wang Shaolin frequented the Palace more. “I’m really, really tired. Of everything, you know? It’s not even those men anymore. When I first started here, I used to close my eyes and pretend I wasn’t really me. I would pretend that deep down, there was a heroine or a goddess, and someday all this pain would bring me to be reborn as who I am truly destined to be. But now, it’s different. Maybe I grew up. Maybe I stopped caring because now I think that there is no deep down. My actions are who I am, and I’ll be stuck here forever.”

Komo stayed silent, gently brushing her hand through Bunny’s hair. Bunny pressed the stub of the cigarette into

the ground. “I spend all day being somebody I’m not, for men I don’t care about. I’m not really like that, am I? I’m not just some dumb pretty eye candy, right? There’s more than that, right Komo? There’s gotta be more.”

“Yes, Bunny.”

“It feels like the world is ending, constantly. ‘This is the way the world ends, not with a

bang but a whimper.’”

“The world may be ending, Bunny, but you will be reborn. We all will be, like a phoenix. Rising from our own

ashes. Bright and flaming, fiery and hot. The world can end all it wants because, in the end, we will always rebuild it,” Komo said, half-jokingly, half-not.

Bunny laughed, which made Komo happy. “I like that. A phoenix.”

They sat there, curled up against each other, and watched the blazing star light up the twilight kingdom.

​

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​

Komo did not go back to Lucky House after leaving the Jade Palace. It was dawn, and she did not want to be

confined in her coffin home, feeling like a corpse. She wandered around for a bit, weaving through shady street vendors and nightclubs. By the time the sun was overhead and the streets were bustling with morning commuters, she was tired and drunk. The thought of returning to the dank and stench of Lucky House made her more nauseous than the alcohol. She stumbled back to the Jade Palace, which was quiet. She used her spare key and jammed it in the lock a few times until the handle turned. Komo found a couch in the back of the Palace and immediately passed out.

When she woke up, she saw that it was dark outside. She swung her legs over and was about to jump down when

she heard a small thump. She looked at the clock: 7:00 pm. But the usual bustle of the girls getting ready was absent. She sat up and listened. Nothing.

Komo’s head throbbed, and she was still groggy as she walked to the bar. She poured herself a cold glass of water

and sipped it. “Hello?” She called. The hallway lights were on, but there was not a single movement behind each door. She walked to the end of the hall where Bunny lived. It was ajar, and she cautiously pushed it open. “Bunny?”

On her bed lay a stack of books, and boxes were strewn across her room. She looked inside them. There were all

sorts of weapons, shooting range targets, and dummies. She flipped open the books and recognized the text and figures from her training days. Then, it struck her. Shaolin had not been having sex with Bunny, but something much, much, worse: he had been training her to become a Huli Jing. She realized why Shaolin had been coming more and more often and why he had asked her last night. He wasn’t asking to join him, he was asking to join them.

She raced back to Lucky House. As she clambered her way up, she glimpsed the bodies of the residents, limp,

bruised, and broken, and she felt a sickening kind of deja vu. When she reached her bed, she saw the door to her safe was wide open, knocking against the wood. “Oh, fuck.” She scrambled to see what was stolen and found all her cash was still there. But the pearlescent green dagger, the one that caught the light and sparkled no matter how dim it was, was gone.

Komo leaped out of her bed and sprinted to the rooftop. “Shu!” She yelled. “Tiger!” She could not save the

people of Ridgefield or the residents of Lucky House, but at least she could rescue her family.

As she reached the top of the stairs, her pace slowed.

“Komo. It’s nice to see you again.” Shaolin and Bunny were standing side by side, both clad in black robes. Shu

was chained up beside them, whimpering and shaking. He moaned and looked at Bunny, who was unnervingly still. It seemed the fear and uncertainty that stained her eyes just hours before had crumbled into dust. Behind them, Tiger lay unmoving, a pool of blood forming by his side.

“Tiger! What did you do?” She ran past Shaolin and Bunny, and they did not stop her. Tiger’s chest faintly rose

and fell, his eyes barely cracked open. She lifted his head and gently shook him. “Tiger, Tiger. Please.” She pressed down on the wound in his stomach to stop the bleeding, but she immediately recognized the thin and sharp angle of the cut.

“Looking for this?” Shaolin twirled her dagger in his fingers, and Komo lunged to take it, but Shaolin was faster.

He swiftly grabbed Shu by his hair and hovered the blade beneath his chin. Almost as fast, Komo tackled Bunny and placed her boot above Bunny’s neck. Shaolin narrowed his eyes, then laughed.

“We’re not here to kill you, Komo.”

“Yeah? Then why is everyone dead down there? What about Tiger?”

“I told you I would clean up Naraka. I told you I would squash all the little rebellions. Your friends here were going

to kill me and destroy Tusita.”

Komo glanced at Shu. He was terrified, but she saw that Shaolin wasn’t lying. She looked down at Bunny.

“Why, Bunny? Why would you do this?”

“You were right. I’m a fucking phoenix.” Bunny huffed in a strained voice.

“What about Shu? Everything he’s done for you?”

“I’m grateful for that, but it’s not my fault he did this. Justice is blind.”

“You’re not going to kill her. Just let her go,” Shaolin said, impatient.

“Let Shu go first.”

Shaolin chuckled pityingly. “I said I wasn’t here to kill you. That doesn’t apply to him.”

“You wouldn’t, Shaolin. What good what it would do?”

He smiled, almost sadly. “The world will be a little purer.” In one fell swoop, he sliced Shu’s neck with Komo’s

dagger. Blood beaded, then poured down. Shu choked once, then crumpled.

Komo roared, rageful and anguished. She stamped down harder on Bunny’s neck and felt her thrash and writhe

beneath her foot. Bunny clawed at her leg, and Komo lifted her foot. She collapsed onto the floor, and Bunny crawled away.

“You should’ve said yes, Komo.” Shaolin looked down at Komo. He tossed the dagger in front of her, crimson

covering the jade. “I’m sorry. I really am. I wish it didn’t have to be like this. But it does.” Then, he turned for the stairs and left.

Bunny went after him but stopped at Shu. Shu’s head was almost dismembered. Bunny kissed her fingers and

pressed them to his forehead.

“Was it worth it?” Komo asked quietly. Bunny said nothing. “I would’ve gone to the end of the world for you,

Bunny. I would have never done this to you.”

Bunny looked up, gazing directly at Komo. Komo expected to see cloudiness in her eyes, any sign that she was

being manipulated or coerced, but they were lucid, clearer than they had ever been before. “I know. And that’s exactly your problem.”

Komo watched them leave, their black robes billowing behind them. She carried Shu’s body back into his hut, laid

him on his mattress, and zipped up the curtains. She carried Tiger’s body back down to their floor and placed him on his bed. She pulled the covers over him and kissed him goodnight. Komo climbed onto her own bed and slid the door shut all the way. Between the creators and the created, between disgust and desire, lay Komo. The world really is ending, she thought. Not with a bang, but with a squeak, a moan, and a hush.