Empty boxes and containers littered the street in Kita District. Event organizers arranged them to block incoming foot traffic from other roads, while hordes of people flooded in from different entrances to spectate. I checked the pocket of my vest, taking out a wooden pendant.
Our registration card. They allowed assistants for each contestant, so I volunteered for Qawasumi despite not knowing how to even hold a bow correctly. What we really needed was a plan. Although I lacked the basic knowledge, her bow was not suitable enough for the type of format the competition used. As employees lined up four targets, they had no scoring rings nor colors on the targets. As I predicted in this country, these were similar to the makiwara back in my world. They were blank targets with no bullseye.
The archers each walked to the side of the range. Separated by barriers no exchange of objects could be made. Qawasumi walked over to me, as I leaned forward. I assessed whether she knew how this tournament worked.
“Of course I know.” Her cloak’s hood hid her face as she pulled it closer. “Don’t underestimate me.”
“Okay, okay. Is anyone going to recognize you? I’m pretty sure your Time Distortion Arrow will give it away.”
Qawasumi placed her hands on her hips, her gear jingling behind her. “Hah? I won’t use it. In fact, I won’t use any skills.”
A Qawasumi that was actually confident? That was the first time I’d seen that form of her in a while. I guessed she really was feeling better in this city. For the first time in two months of gloom, things were heading in the right direction. I grinned and scratched my nose. “Really now?”
“Hmph!...” She folded her arms and turned around. “I might’ve not told you before, but I didn’t place third in the Royal Archery Tournament for nothing.”
Though I’d already been spoiled on this information through Taqumi… I decided to nod and act as if it was a revelation. Once the announcer got all the formalities out of the way, it was time for the first batch of competitors. Due to this being an unofficial event, apparently this had no opening ceremony nor early registration. Everything was proceeding on the tip of time. We registered the day of, under the alias ‘Qawasaqui Yuqui’. The first name of Sorah’s brother, Totshigui Yuqui.
Qawasumi handed me her quiver, and instructed me to take out all the arrows she made on a whim. I hoped that she constructed them well. All the assistants were to walk with the archer. Judges seated at the tables behind them would score our strides, our faces, our mood. Like the announcer had said, archery was a pride of Waqwaq.
The four archers neared the shooting line with each elegant step similar to a slow dance. Qawasumi followed along perfectly, her expression showing no sign of nervousness, and no sweat dared to drip down her neck. They kneeled down on the floor as they readied their bows facing sideways. Once they arrived at the shooting line, it was our turn. I made sure to keep the rhythm of the others’ pace, coming to my knees as slow as possible. With her arrows in hand, I moved my arms downwards as she neatly plucked one. Us assistants retreated backward.
People watching immediately went silent.
If I estimated correctly, the shooting line was around thirty meters from the targets, or less than one li in this world’s unit of measure. Her recurve bow would barely have an effective range, so I concluded. The other contestants used bigger and longer bows, which was a given. Qawasumi had a disadvantage.
She turned her head smoothly to the left, standing up to nock the arrow onto the bowstring. Her movements matched the others in a sequence as each of them did the same standing, nocking, and drawing their bows. There was no doubt about it. It wasn’t about the accuracy of their shots. The targets were just for bonus. If it wasn’t about the shooting, then how did Qawasumi gain an advantage in the past with her Time Distortion Arrow?
One after another they pulled their bowstrings back. Each one fired consecutively, until it was her turn. Qawasumi took a deep breath while the hemp stretched in a courteous manner. Her blinks slowed, as her body matched her aim. Once at full draw, there was a pause. For a moment she did not release any tension. In a matter of seconds the arrow ended up perfectly in the center of the straw target. The crowd erupted into a passionate roar. Qawasumi’s facial expression remained like stone.
Two archers would be eliminated with each batch. Qawasumi passed with flying colors as the judges stood with their jaws lowered. It appeared I didn’t need to worry. My etiquette probably could’ve been higher if I actually knew how to make myself more graceful. We stepped away from the shooting line as the next four made way.
As I observed more, each competitor played into their own niche. Some just fired their arrows plainly, while others activated different skills to their advantage. I couldn’t imagine how much Qawasumi could score if handicaps weren’t placed on her like now. However there was one contestant I had my eye on.
When the first round ended, the sixteen became reduced to eight. Half of the participants would be eliminated over the course of four rounds until two remained. A boy prepared to shoot as his posture remained with integrity, as the arrows floated from his assistant’s hands and into his. Levitation skills? It allowed him to take position without obstruction while his feet matched the shooting line. Almost perfectly.
At the end of the second round came a rest period. Qawasumi sat down in the corner as I approached her with a water canteen. “Today’s a little hot. It’s okay if you take that hood off, you know.”
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“No, I’m fine.” She accepted the water and took a few sips. “That one…”
“The boy?”
“Mhm. He’s gaining nearly the same points as me. If one of us manages to slip up then we won’t be making any money.” Qawasumi wiped her mouth as she gasped. I took the water from her. “Make sure that you don’t do anything stupid.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m bad at this.” I scratched my head and kicked my feet. “Sorry.”
She looked away. “You’re doing well. For someone who’s never done anything like this before. Good job.”
I also looked away. Was this her method of cheering me up? Before we knew it the announcer shouted the end of the break, while people flocked back into the spectator zone. For the penultimate she faced off against that boy with the levitation. He had a much younger complexion than Qawasumi yet he scored just as high. As her assistant, I had no advice to give to Qawasumi. Only she could come up with ideas.
The third round, My knees dropped delicately with a smooth landing. She took one of the arrows out of my hand. This was bad. If we kept on going with our same routine, then there would be a chance the boy would surpass us in the end. Even if I did have a suggestion I wouldn’t be able to say it. Whispering could result in a deduction for the evaluators. As Qawasumi scored her second to final shot, the final arrow rattled slightly in my hands.
By the time I saw my shaking hands, I realized the solution.
Soon it became just Qawasumi and the boy left going head to head. Only two targets had been set up; And the distance between the makiwara and the shooting line had changed up to twice the distance. To the recurve bow, it would stretch the effective range to the max. The boy with the longbow could reach it with no effort.
In order to pass, Qawasumi had to score a bonus with the target, and be more elegant than the boy beside her. We walked to our positions, while I decided to test out my own solution.
In the previous rounds I was nervous. My quivering body demonstrated that to the judges and possibly deducted points. Meanwhile the others had maintained composure along with their assistants. Qawasumi carried her score alone. I was just holding her back. I needed to think. What did the judges want? Synchronization? Harmony? Calmness?
I cleared my mind as if everything froze in time. With one leg I knelt down while my other joined me, wielding the final arrow like a wine bottle. Like a soldier with a weapon at their side. Qawasumi did just fine. The problem was me. I attempted to quell my beating heart which felt audible to everyone around me, sweat building up in the scalp of my head. Qawasumi took the last arrow from me while I backed away.
Everything rested on her final shot.
All eyes were on her and the boy with the levitation skill. The two finalists stood side by side with their bows at the ready. I glanced at the target that seemed to be an endless distance away. Qawasumi took her position, her face calm and resolute. I held my breath. I had to embody the same grace and elegance that radiated from her.
With the final arrow in her hand, Qawasumi took a deep breath, and nocked as fluid as water. As she rose from the ground tall and composed, her confidence resonated with the crowd, and the crowd held their fists.
The boy with the levitation skill released his arrow first, and it landed close to the center, eliciting a cheer from the spectators. I prayed that Qawasumi's arrow would find its mark. The world around us seemed to fade away as she aligned her body with her target, and the moment lingered in perpetual time.
Then in one seamless motion she released the arrow. It struck the target with a soft thud. And soon after, a wave of thunderous applause from the spectator area. Qawasumi remained composed, her face betraying no emotion despite the roaring cheers around her.
People came in to remove the targets as all competitors were called to the podium. The judges discussed with the announcer, handing him a piece of paper. He came up and calmed everyone down first before unfolding the letter.
“Ladies and gentlemen, after four intense rounds of archery competition, we have our winner!" The announcer's voice echoed through the crowded streets of Kita District. "With an outstanding display of skill, precision, and elegance, the champion of the Kita District Local Archery Tournament is... ‘Qawasaqui Yuqui’!"
She had done it. Everybody clapped as her eyes widened. Qawasumi stood in place as others pushed her along to the front. The announcer brought her forward, as an employee handed a sack containing the thousand mon. As the tournament concluded Qawasumi flew down the podium as I rushed towards her.
“Miss Qawasumi, you did it!” We met each other at almost the same time, nearly embracing each other. “The money’s ours!”
“I did it…” She stared at the money pouch in her hands as we backed away. Fighting her serious complexion, her lips curled into a smile. “I did it!...”
We saw the runner-up walking with his head down. Before I knew it she tightened her fists and ran over to him. His face was lit up by her as they shook hands. A rare instance of Qawasumi being open to interacting with other people. I couldn’t help but grin the entire time, knowing her former self would’ve never done this.
“With this money we can finally leave Han’ei,” I said to her walking through the sunset filled streets, “A thousand mon and we can even leave to the next country, I bet.”
Our first step had been achieved in order to search for Sorah’s family. Since the Kokmin had a bad reputation with the Imperial Court, Sorah would become an enemy of the nation, so leaving Waqwaq was a given. The neighboring country across the western sea, Great Zhou, would be more lenient to Kokmin members fleeing persecution as told from that food vendor.
Qawasumi chuckled as she held the sack to the sky. “Han’ei… Maybe I could face everything one more time—”
We stopped walking. Not because we were tired. Not because we’d found a place to stay out. Not because people of the Royal Marshal arrived. None of that. Qawasumi immediately grounded, holding the pouch to her chest. Her legs trembled, while I looked ahead to see many in blue cloaks and swords.
They parted to the side as they gave way to a woman with long, dark brown hair wearing an embroidered dress with a shade of blue.