Chidi blinked. The meaning of my name? he mused. This was something no one had ever bothered to know.
He hesitated. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm Chinese. And where I'm from, names carry weight," Lù-Qímiào explained. "They have meanings. They are vibrations. Frequencies. Energy. In essence, we practically wear our names like charms, amulets, sigils: spells that influence our karmic patterns." She paused. "Am I making sense or just talking gibberish?"
"Not only are you beautiful, you're intelligent as well," Chidi remarked.
"Flirting with me again, are you?" Lù-Qímiào teased.
"Now, don't start again," Chidi threw back playfully. "I'm just complimenting you. And yes, you make perfect sense. Where I come from in Igbo land..."
Lù-Qímiào's eyes lit. "You're Igbo?"
Chidi's eyes furrowed into a questioning look. "Yes."
"In China your people are famous," she said delightedly. "Industrious, smart-working and prosperous."
"Yeah! I wish I could say the same for myself," Chidi said dully.
Lù-Qímiào shot at him a curious look. "Why do you say that."
Chidi cast his memory back to his village, Ndigwe, where, prior to his coming to this academy, he had spent his life drifting rather than living. It wasn't a story he wished to share. "Never mind," he said dismissively. "My name is Chidi Ebube: but you already knew that. And Chidi means... 'God exists,' or God is," he said quietly. "While Ebube means "Aura of Greatness."
Lù-Qímiào became thoughtful, as she savored the information, her eyes narrowing slightly as if storing it. When she spoke, her voice was silky, low, measured. "That explains a lot. Chi... di... Did you know that 'Chi' in Chinese also means 'God': or 'Energy', to be specific?"
Chidi's eye lit. "Of course! Tai Chi. 'Supreme Energy'." Chidi knew about Tai Chi because it was a subject in the Bullet-Bending curriculum. "I never saw the connection before!"
Lù-Qímiào nodded. "Now you do."
"Your turn," Chidi said. "What's the meaning of your name?
"Do you even know my name?" she taunted.
"Actually, it's not that I don't know your name, it's the pronunciation that I can't wrap my mouth around."
Lù-Qímiào chuckled. "It's not just you. Almost every non-Chinese I come across has a problem pronouncing 'Lù-Qímiào'. So, they prefer to call me Lu."
"Can I call you Loo like everyone else?" Chidi asked, preferring the easy way out.
She nodded a no. "You're not everyone else. Say it in full, let me hear first," she said.
"Don't laugh," Chidi warned.
"I won't," she acknowledged.
Unconsciously, Chidi made a struggling face: "Loo... Chee-mow? Wait! Loo Quee-miyao? Nope! Loo kee-meow. Argh!"
Lù-Qímiào laughed. She laughed so loud, she couldn't contain herself. So loud, others in the canteen noticed.
"Now, what's the best gun-slinging student in the academy doing with that weirdo?" one student asked.
"Now don't tell me they're friends," another remarked.
"Friends?" another jested. "Impossible! I'm sure she's just with him simply to make mockery of him."
"Exactly!" the first concurred. "I mean, being friends with that weirdo is like bringing a sling to a gunfight."
Laughter erupted among the seated students poking distant jokes at Chidi.
Meanwhile, ignoring the other students, Chidi eye-balled Lù-Qímiào. "You promised not to laugh!"
"I lied," she said, still laughing.
Chidi shrugged. "Now, they're laughing at me." He was referring to the other laughing students. "You know what? I'll just call you Loo like everyone else."
"For you, I'd prefer the full name," she insisted. "So, I'm going to teach you. Think of it like this: Lu; as in Water-Loo. Then, Qímiào; as in Chee, just the way you pronounce your name Chidi, and Miao, just like mimicking a cat's cry."
Realization hit him. "Ohhh, I get it now. Loo. Chi. Meow. Loo-Chi-Meow. Yes!" He yanked his hand in effect. Then began to tease her. "Meow. Meow. Come here kitty, kitty."
"Call me Meow again and I'll forget my palm on your face," she said. It was a joke, but she feigned seriousness, her face back to being unreadable.
Chidi frowned, unsure. "But isn't that the way it's pronounced?"
"Not the way you're implying it," she insisted. "Otherwise, Lu will just do."
"Exactly my point!" Chidi exclaimed.
Lù-Qímiào rolled her eyes. "Whatever. As for their meanings, 'Lu' has multiple meanings in Chinese, depending on the bearer of the name. For example, it could mean land or continent. It could also mean dew; reed; road or path. But here's my favorite meaning of 'Lu': beautiful jade."
"Beautiful Jade..." Chidi's voice trained off dreamingly. "Perfect! And what does Qímiào mean?
"It means 'Marvelous'," she said, "or 'Wondrous'. And together, Lù-Qímiào means 'Marvelous Jade' or 'Wondrous Beauty'."
"Your name is layered with amazing meanings," Chidi observed complementarily.
"So is yours," Lù-Qímiào returned. "Is that why you think you survived the Crucible?" she asked. "Because God exists?"
Chidi stared at her. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe. Maybe not. I just know I'm not supposed to be dead yet."
Her lips curled, half-smile. "Well then, Chidi The Thunder-Stick Boy" she said, standing, "let's see how long you last here."
She took her tray and left him at the table, her steps light, like someone dancing between shadows.
Chidi sat there, unsure what just happened.
~~~
Later that dusk, during target drills in the open field down the valley, near the vast forest, Master-Bender Splendor-Bullor led a class of twenty Bullet-Benders-in-training through bullet-bending exercises.
The goal was simple: curve the trajectory of a bullet midair, using a technique he had earlier taught them in class: one of flicking the gun in a precisely particular angle at the point of firing the bullet.
"The secret of successful bullet-curving lies in your kinetic focus and internal pulsewave resonance," Master-Bender Splendor-Bullor reminded them.
Across the distance mannequins stood, serving as targets, equidistantly spaced. Midway between the practicing students and the mannequin targets, metal obstacles were planted to prevent released bullets from hitting the targets in straight lines. They were positioned in such ways that the only means of hitting the targets were is the bullets curved around the metal obstacles.
By now, most students could curve bullets around the metal obstacles, but not all could hit the targets behind. However, the point of this training wasn't to hit the targets behind, but to curve the bullets around the metal obstacles. The training for hitting the targets after curving the bullets was a training for another day.
Chidi had no business being there, because he could not even curve the bullets whenever he fired the gun.
He missed entirely. Again. And again. And again.
But Splendor-Bullor brought him along because it was his duty, as the Weapons Department curator, to carry everyone along. And also because the failure of even one student was also his failure as well, as a teacher. But most importantly, because he needed to use Chidi as a thriving example of a terrible student. A joke in the class.
"You're not even trying!" Splendor-Bullor barked. "Thunder-Stick boy, aim with your mind, not with the gun! Remember, you're waving the gun, while aiming with your mind. So, flick it only at the point of triggering: like this," the Master-Bender demonstrated like a maestro he was, even adding his signature style to the flick.
The bullet curved around a metal boundary and found a mannequin's head. The plastic head splattered upon the bullet's impact.
He looked at Chidi superiorly. "Now, do it."
Chidi took a deep breath, focused, aimed with his mind, or so he thought, and flicked the pistol upon firing it.
The bullet failed to curve. Again. Laughter followed.
"Hey, Thunder-Stick, you missed. Again!" one of the trainees shouted.
That does it! Chidi dropped the pistol, frustration written across his face. He turned to leave the field.
"And where do you think you're going?" the Master-Bender shouted.
Chidi didn't answer. He didn't care. He just kept walking: towards the woods beyond the training yard.
As he passed the edge of the tree line, Lù-Qímiào stepped out from the shadows.
"You're bleeding energy," she said. "You're using force instead of flow."
"I didn't ask for help," Chidi snapped at her.
"You didn't have to," she said. "I chose to help. And the first thing you need to know is that bullet-curving is a form of Tai Chi flow."
He looked at her, weary. "Why?"
"Why is it a Tai Chi flow?" she asked back for clarity.
"No. Why do you chose to help me?" Chidi said.
She tilted her head. "Because you're not like the rest of them."
Before Chidi could respond, a crack echoed through the trees. Not a branch. Not a bird. Not a sound made by nature. But a sharp metallic click: too deliberate.
Chidi froze, panic creeping at the edge of his instinct.
Lù-Qímiào's expression changed instantly. "Don't move," she whispered. She slowly reached for a semi-automatic pistol holstered beneath her jacket; her eyes scanning the woods. Then she said: "We're not alone."