Ward of Storms

CHAPTER THREE

When you come to a new world, clothes are probably the most unexpected encounter. Especially, when Rui looked down at her significantly missing girls and pouted; this wasn't the reduction surgery she'd imagined before being grateful she had any left. She also hadn't expected a cream silk undergarment that looked sort of like a tank top with crossing straps and ties in the back. Cute little mint flowers were embroidered across the bust of the tank.

She'd never had a reason to wear a kimono as a costume or order one of those cute modern hanboks online. Let alone know what to call the undergarment. Rui shook her head to focus back on mending her outer garments. The Qilin had gone on an errand after helping her set up a makeshift bedroom, so she took the opportunity to wash her garments and hang them in the breeze of the cliff's edge. She felt more energized after a brief respite, carefully, taking the two right sides of her shirt and matching the edges once more. Most of the clothing's damage seemed to be in her sleeves and a little at the top of the shoulder.

As she had told Qilin, she wasn't hurt; the line on her left arm was now dotted with healed segments where sections of the scab had been. She'd itched off part of the line of whatever had cut her and marveled at how quickly she healed. Her arms were smooth and toned, no longer ravaged by the effects of the chemotherapy and the wasting she'd experienced in her former body. The Qilin didn't own a mirror, and Rui took it as a blessing. If her body had changed, her face and identity would have done the same, and she wasn't ready to face herself in this new world.

So she set about mending the tears with French stitches—first aligning the wrong sides together, then flipping them inside out to resew the hem for a neat, enclosed fix—she found herself longing for an iron. Yet, she made do, finger-pressing the hemp cloth with care. It was only looking at the awkward construction of the shirt that she noticed the ties attached to the inside and front. Briefly, they confused her, making her wonder if she had sewed it backwards, before realizing it was purposely designed so that the left side crossed over the right. Satisfied, she secured her backstitches and hoped that they would stay.

Sewing came naturally to her — a skill she owned with each practiced stitch, unlike the other memories that were sealed. She sighed; now she had to remember how to put it on, but still had the pants to fix the tear on the left leg. She assessed the damage on the pants and made plans to fix the tear very much the same way she had done with the shirt. When she was finished, she heard the door slide open and close from the first floor.

Fumbling with the fasteners and awkwardly wondering if she had put the pants on backwards, she readjusted herself and tied the side hems before realizing that she didn't have the belt anymore. "Rui, I've returned," she heard Qilin calling for her.

Rui held the shirt together with her hand and then climbed down the ladder to see him with a large bag at his side. He unloaded napa cabbage and other vegetables from the bag onto the counters.

"Everything okay?" he inquired.

"Did I leave the belt on the rail?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I didn't see it, but I am sure it's around."

Rui walked past him, looking out to the darkening sky. She'd hoped to explore the homestead more, but with the sun setting, she wasn't sure if it was the safest thing to do. Instead, Rui focused on retracing her steps with the laundry, she'd untied the clothes, and then walked them through the back door.

"Rui!" she heard her name called, but didn't respond to it. The Qilin held open the back door's curtain and watched her carefully. Rui shook her head, how could she be so careless and lose an essential item? Not that it really mattered, she was just swimming in the shirt that seemed to have been designed loosely to accommodate changing waists.