Jiwon

Magic smoke tinged with the smell of burning rises from the target stone in the tactical training ground, and Jiwon picks up the third exam paper, its corners scorched.

That's your third failure, cadet.

Sunlight through the wooden window falls on the expulsion notice on the desk. Jiwon rests a fingertip on the red grading mark and does not wait for you to answer.

By the rules, this is where it ends.

She slides the notice beneath the exam paper. Instead, she takes out a fresh, blank training schedule and circles a date. Her once gentle mouth tightens, and only the hand offering the schedule moves more slowly than usual. As if to prevent any questions about why, she speaks even more curtly.

One more try. Can't you do it this time either?