The Broken Lifeline
"Why are you making that face? Say something!"
Judging by the look on his face, it was definitely not good news. Maybe that was why Eli pestered him the moment he hesitated, when at any other time he wouldn't have given a second thought to refusing.
"…Well, you see…"
Lokha stalled, sounding strangely reluctant.
"That's weird. A minute ago you were explaining everything without a hitch. What's the problem?"
Schubik rested a hand on his chin and tilted his head.
"Something wrong with your brain? Did you completely bomb the exam or what?"
"Hey! Schubik!"
"Why don't you shut up for once?"
Aidan and Quinn whipped around to glare at him. One of them wasn't scary — but the other very much was. Schubik angled himself discreetly out of the path of Quinn's murderous stare.
Unfortunately for him, an even greater threat stood in the way: Logan. Without a word, Logan fixed him with a look that plainly warned that if he kept up his nonsense, he wouldn't be let off lightly.
"No, I just—Lokha's reaction was a bit unusual, that's all…"
Schubik hastily dropped his gaze and mumbled an excuse, but nobody paid him any mind. All attention swung back to Lokha.
"I'd appreciate it if you told us everything. No sugarcoating."
"You've got me pretty anxious already, thanks to this."
Nobody wanted to start the new semester on such an uneasy note. Hounded by his friends' demands, Lokha finally opened his mouth.
"Right, so the four of you—"
"Well hello there, everyone! Long time no see!"
Lokha never got to finish. Impossibly, Professor Rothius had appeared in the classroom — even though the bell hadn't rung yet.
There he was, in the flesh, for first period — hair, beard, and attire all perfectly groomed.
"Professor, did something happen today?"
"Something?"
"Yes. Did you have a change of heart all of a sudden?"
"Where are you off to, dressed so spick-and-span? Don't tell me you're going on a blind date?"
At one student's teasing remark, the whole room burst out laughing. Whereupon Professor Rothius slammed his hand down on the lectern and mustered his sternest voice.
"For shame! Is that any way to speak to a teacher who came sprinting here because he missed his students? A blind date! Do you have any idea how lonely I've been all break? I dressed up just to make a good impression on all of you!"
"Oh, come off it! We don't believe a word!"
"We know you, Professor. Showing up to first period at all is the unbelievable part!"
"Staging a rebellion against your own professor from the very first class of the semester? I could ask the same of you — what's all this about, crowding around like that?"
Professor Rothius swept a sharp-eyed gaze over the students still scrambling back into their seats. Then his mouth curved into a pleasant smile the moment he spotted Schubik.
"There, Schubik. You tell me."
Professor Rothius knew perfectly well that the boy's lips were anything but sealed. And sure enough, without a shred of hesitation, Schubik rattled it all off.
"Lokha read our fortunes from our palms for the new semester, sir."
"Palm reading?"
"Yes! Everyone's palm lines are different, and apparently you can divine your fate from them. Did you know about that, Professor?"
"Mmm. That would be palmistry. There are even those who make a living at it, or so I've heard. Though I had no idea Lokha could do it."
After gazing at Lokha in mild surprise for a moment, Professor Rothius abruptly approached him and held out his hand.
"Might you take a look at mine as well?"
Dong— dong— dong—
Just as Lokha and every last student stared at him in disbelief, the bell announcing first period rang out across the academy.
"The truth is, I have serious doubts about whether I'll survive at this academy. If I'm fated to be let go, could you perhaps tell when that might be?"
"…I beg your pardon?"
"The mood among the faculty right now is no joke. You know that, right? Four of us were cut loose today alone."
"Ah. Right…"
"I'll admit I've skipped my fair share of classes over the years. So I've been in the Chairman's bad books for quite a while now."
"Professor, don't tell me… that's why you showed up looking like that? To get on the Chairman's good side?"
"Who said that? Who's throwing around such incisive questions at a time like this!"
Professor Rothius shot a sidelong glance, his face wearing the unmistakable expression of a man caught red-handed.
"Wow! And to think you lied to our faces about wanting to impress us! Is it acceptable for a professor to swindle his own students like this?"
"It's not a swindle! Deep down, that sentiment was absolutely there too!"
As Professor Rothius pounded his chest in protest, the students showered him with jeers.
"Shh, quiet now! I'm being extremely serious at the moment. This is the crossroads upon which my very livelihood hangs, children."
"The bell rang. Aren't you going to teach?"
"I will. You all just need to wait a moment. Lokha?"
Professor Rothius waved the outstretched hand impatiently, urging him on. A teacher badgering his own student for a palm reading during class time — Bayul couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. Then again, it was so utterly like Professor Rothius that he couldn't help feeling glad to see it.
"Since we do have class, I'll keep it brief."
Lokha, apparently having decided there was no getting out of it, answered without a moment's hesitation.
"First, the thing you're worried about, Professor, will not come to pass. You see this line here? A lifeline that runs straight and unbroken signifies stable employment and a steady flow of work."
"Oh, is that so?"
"Yes. You'll be able to go on doing the work you wish to do, so I don't believe you need to worry on that count."
"I've only ever heard talk of palmistry. Experiencing it firsthand like this is a first for me. It's quite fascinating. Where did you learn to do this?"
Perhaps he was finally reassured — Professor Rothius's voice had grown noticeably lighter.
Considering how flustered he'd been at the initial request, Lokha explained everything patiently, in a gentle and measured tone. His impressive composure stirred an odd sense of trust in Bayul.
Maybe that was why. He couldn't get the look on Lokha's face out of his mind — the way the boy's eyes had wavered, ever so slightly, when he'd examined Bayul's palm.
What exactly is it about my palm that…
"I learned from my grandfather. In my homeland, the Ga Kingdom, there's great interest in palmistry, physiognomy, and the study of geomancy."
"I know the ones. I've heard they involve a vast body of study and are quite difficult, yet you seem to have mastered them admirably. I'll be calling on you again sometime, then?"
…Again?
Did you think one reading would be the end of it?
Unlike the bewildered Lokha, most of the students simply nodded along with a well, of course, what did you expect look on their faces.
"Now then, shall we begin class?"
Professor Rothius beamed, went to the lectern, and opened his book. The students grumbled that he could let the first lesson of the semester slide, but there was no chance of that. He brushed them off with a breezy remark that the exams would likely be rather challenging, and dove straight into the material.
Bayul had no idea how class time slipped past. He fretted in his own way, his friends in theirs, each of them enduring the anxious hours.
Dong-dong-dong!
And the moment the bell finally announced the end of class, Aidan and Eli leapt up, seized Lokha by both arms, and hauled him off. Quick-witted Schubik tried to tag along, but Logan's golden eyes stopped him cold.
"This should do."
Only after the group reached a reasonably secluded spot did they release Lokha.
"I'm sorry, first of all. We were in such a hurry about the time that we dragged you here without even asking."
"It's fine. I understand."
They'd been so anxious they'd practically kidnapped him. It was a situation where he had every right to be angry, yet Lokha insisted he was fine, even looking after Bayul and the others instead.
"So… will you tell us now?"
"…Honestly and fully?"
"Yes."
The moment was charged with tension. Bayul couldn't fathom why his hands trembled so much over this — before he knew it, he'd clenched them into fists.
"Before that, may I see your palm again after classes end?"
"You want to look at Bayul's palm a second time?"
"Why?"
"I've only ever heard of a palm like his. I've never actually seen one — and there's no time to explain at length right now."
They couldn't skip second period on the very first day of the semester. Time was in desperately short supply.
"Okay. Let's meet again after dinner, then. Everyone all right with that?"
Everyone nodded in agreement with Bayul's decision — he was, after all, the one involved — and Lokha reached out his hand. This time, Bayul didn't hesitate for an instant, offering his palm right away.
"You see this line here?"
Lokha pointed to the line that began between his thumb and index finger.
"This is called the lifeline. It reflects your health and your lifespan."
"Okay… and why does that matter?"
"Look closely. No — first, let's compare mine."
Lokha suddenly spread open his own palm.
"This is my lifeline, and this is Bayul's. Do you see the difference?"
"…They look about the same? Longer just means you live longer, right?"
Aidan, still remembering how Schubik had strutted around earlier, answered flatly.
"That's right. The longer and thicker the line, the longer one is fated to live. Lots of fine secondary lines can mean frequent illness, and a split at the end can mean poor health in old age."
"Bayul's looks long and thick, though?"
Bayul's lifeline and Lokha's were nearly identical.
"Hold on."
Just then, Logan's face went rigid, and he bent over Bayul's hand, his nose nearly touching it.
"Here."
He tapped a single spot and looked up at Lokha.
"What does this mean?"
"Why? What about it?"
"It's broken."
"…Broken?"
"It is. It really is."
A break in a line was hardly ever a good omen. Bayul stared blankly down at the severed stretch of his own lifeline — a part of himself he'd never known existed.
What on earth could it mean?
A grim foreboding settled over the group, leaving them reluctant to ask. Aidan even went so far as to examine his own lifeline.
"A broken lifeline is a sign that something has gone wrong with one's health."
"…What kind of something?"
"Usually illness, or an accident. Depending on where the break falls and what shape it takes, you can even estimate when it will happen — there are many ways to read it. If other lines overlap or bridge that spot, it means the crisis can be overcome safely."
The instant Lokha finished speaking, four pairs of eyes shot to Bayul's palm.
"…But Bayul's is clean. There's nothing at the break — nothing at all. It's almost too clear."
That was why Lokha had been so shocked.
"…But the line starts up again right after! It's only broken a little!"
"It's not a little. The gap is the widest I have ever seen in a palm. And that… as far as I know… means death."