E.J. Zain

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It was as if Jina had it in her reckless mind to anger them, regardless of the consequences. In her own immature storybook mind, Hana thought, pride is worth dying for.  Exiting with crates of produce and rice, the soldiers made a noisy retreat. Jina, clasping her jar of caterpillars, squealed “Hope you throw up all that you steal, sons of dogs!” The soldiers stopped in their tracks.

 

Jae immediately apologized, almost groveling once the shock of what was happening wore off. The smaller soldier continued on his way, but the tall soldier stepped back in the store.

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“Please, excuse her horrible language, she knows not what she says.” Jae added.

 

The soldier caressed Jina’s cheek just before he clamped it side ways, preventing the accumulation of spit she had in mind to project onto his face. “Such horrible words from such an innocent little girl!” Jina tried to pull her face away, but he held on, squishing the flesh of her cheeks into her teeth. She focused her pain on the soldier’s identity, and his odor. He was sucking on Korean ginseng root, which was hard to find on a soldier’s budget.

 

Mikimoto. Hmm. Her eyes scanned his uniform for rank. He was a sergeant? Doesn’t matter, all the better, she thought.

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“Please! Have pity on my stupid daughter! Their mother has died,” Jae frantically wailed, unashamed of begging. 

“And because of this sad occasion, I will overlook this insult.” Mikimoto replied, and released her.