broken hearts still have a heartbeat
there's only thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy who loves you. - the book thief
A/N: I did my best to write this in a style similar to the Book Thief's, and hopefully I didn't completely butcher it. Spoilers, obviously, for the Book Thief, but if you've read it (and if you haven't I heartily reccomend it) or are content with being spoiled, continue reading. :)
Love is a curious thing. It gives you both something to live for, and something you would die for; it can feel like heaven, and it can feel like hell. It is the ultimate contradiction.
**A CLARIFICATION**
Death is not a contradiction; it is a result.
I am Death - not the grim reaper, in baggy black robes and a skeleton face.
I am much more human like in appearance.
After all, you enjoy killing each other, don't you?
I cannot speak from experience, but I know from the case of Jinora Gyatso - otherwise known as the Book Thief - that there is only one thing worse than a boy who hates you: a boy who loves you. She learned the truth firsthand. The girl was coloured in ash and rubble when I saw her. The boy was painted with the warmth of her heart and the stale, bitter taste of the brown of her eyes. The image of his body would stay reflected in them forever.
**A DEFINITION NOT FOUND IN THE DICTIONARY**
Love; v. does not end with death.
Broken hearts still have a heartbeat, after all, and love isn't logical anyway.
And besides, I am anything if not fair.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. In order to understand her heartache, her heart's strength, we must go back to the beginning, if you're willing to follow me, of course. Some souls aren't, persistently clinging to life because of those who have stayed behind. The living and I, we are not so different; I come for the dead, but I stay for the living. The survivors. The leftovers.
The Book Thief was an expert at being a leftover. And if you'd like to hear her story, close your eyes, open your arms and your heart and take my hand. Stay close. 1939 Nazi Germany is a dangerous place...
Jinora Gyatso was a sad little girl, to put it simply. Kai Fong was a happy little boy - as happy as an orphan of Ms. BeiFong's Home For Kids could be. Jinora had lost her mother, dropped off at Foster home, to be a daughter for Lin and Bumi BeiFong, "for a better future," her mother had said; it didn't get rid of the ache of abandonment that had settled in her bones. Kai didn't have any family to lose.
It is the strangest thing, that the most different people can turn out not to be so different at all, and that they met in the most undignified of ways: a backstreet soccer game. And among that, there are seven other moments in their friendship that seemed particularly important that I was lucky enough to collect from the boy's heart.
1.
"Now don't go messing up that dress of your's, you little saumensch!" Lin BeiFong hollered after her adopted daughter. The girl had been a struggle at first, reluctant and distant, but slowly, as the snow melted away and Spring came, so did Jinora's warmth, and kindness. The girl called her Mama, just like she had called her birth mother, and she called Lin's husband Bumi Papa. Jinora loved them both dearly. They weren't perfect, but she had no trouble of thinking of them as parents.
**SOME FACTS ABOUT LIN BEIFONG**
Calling some a saumensch or saukerl, an asshole, is a term of endearment for her.
Her husband's music lit up her life and she could never truly be annoyed by him.
Jinora soon joined Bumi in that exclusive group.
She was a terrible cook, unlike Jinora's mother, but the girl loved her anyway.
Jinora just laughed, hiking up her dress as she scurried into the dirty, wet street where a bunch of boys from Lin's sister's orphanage were playing a game, the stones under the boys' shoes slick with rainwater.
The ball rolled her way and she kicked it with flourish towards one team's net. A boy with a floppy green hat opened his mouth, probably to admonish her, but another boy stepped in, "Ah c'mon Skooch," he slung his arm around the boy's shoulders, grinning. "We'll have even teams now anyway." Skoochy shrugged him off the game continued like nothing had ever happened.
The boy fell behind with Jinora. She flashed him a smile of thanks, and passed the ball to him and he scored the winning goal.
"Nice one, saukerl," she said, playfully nudging his arm on their walk back to the orphanage, and to her home. "But what's your real name?"
"Kai," he answered, hopping onto the rim of the sidewalk and walking on it as though it was a tightrope. "Yours, saumensch?"
Jinora snorted, shoving him off the rim. A laugh spilled from his mouth as he stumbled onto the street, moving back towards her to walk by her side. He'll do for a friend, she decided. "Jinora." She stuck on her hand and he shook it, doing a ridiculous bow. It pulled a giggle out of her. He made her forget, if only for a moment, why she was so sad.
It does not take much to create a friendship between a pair of eleven year olds, and it almost nothing in the world can tear them apart. Almost.
2.
"How about a kiss, saumensch?" Kai arched an eyebrow at her, beaming.
Jinora wrinkled her nose in disgust at him. "I'd sooner punch your tooth out for 15 cents," she jabbed. Kai's bubbly laugh was his only response, laughing as those it was a game. And a game it soon became. He'd ask her at the most random times, always with the same playful attitude and unfailing optimism. She knew, deep down, he didn't really expect anything from her. It just became a way to get under her skin.
He never once dreamed she would say yes someday, even as promised, "One day, you'll be dying to kiss me."
Jinora rolled her eyes. "Shut it, saukerl."
**A WARNING ABOUT IRONY**
It is too often paired with regret and hindsight.
To children, they have all the time in the world, a bright world full of sky blue laughter and rosy cheeks from the cold days of snowball fights coloured white and gold and brown - muddy snow and flecks of light sparkling in Jinora's eyes, full of warmth as the winter waned like the moon, 1939 passing in a haze of friendship. 1940 dawned crisp and clear and Jinora shoved Kai out of her way when midnight rang, amusement gleaming in her eyes as his familiar nickname fell from her lips. Kai stuck his tongue out of her.
She learned he couldn't read one day when they were baking in the kitchen. Rationing hadn't started yet, and Bumi and Lin were always willing to feed one more hungry mouth from Suyin's ever-growing orphanage. Soon, it would be full to bursting.
She stole another book, this time from a book-burning on the streets in the spring, and it was with it she taught Kai how to read. They spent hours scouring the streets as she quizzed him on his spellings and words.
"I'll write you a book one day, Book Thief," he promised her again.
Jinora smiled at him. "I'll believe it when I see it." But she knew he would; Kai always kept his promises, like how he said he'd never leave her.
**A WORD ABOUT PROMISES**
Contrary to popular belief, Jinora was not naive.
Her mother had left her, and although she still struggled to make peace with it,
Jinora had accepted it.
She knew promises could be broken.
This was a matter of trust, and if she couldn't trust Kai, who could she trust?
And then the war came.
And the Jewish fist-fighter.
3.
Nobody was supposed to know about Korra. A fist-fighter from the frigid north, her clear blue eyes holding a surprising warmth as the streets grew more dangerous for her dark skin and ways of worship. Her father, Tonraq, had helped Bumi in a war that had almost stolen both of their lives. Jinora wondered, briefly, as the sky cried and its tears splashed the window during Korra's first night in the basement, if Bumi had doubted upholding him and Tonraq's pact.
**BUMI'S DOUBTS**
Bumi had indeed had doubts.
But it was the thought of Tonraq turning away Jinora,
if a sanctuary was ever necessary,
that made him allow Korra into the house.
After four months of keeping a secret and talking and laughing and coming to see Korra like a big sister, Jinora told Kai. She didn't mean to, of course, but had scraped her knees badly playing soccer. Kai went to look for bandages, had almost gone to the basement to look for them in a rare moment when Lin wasn't home, off doing washing for the neighbours to earn extra money, when Jinora had shouted, "You can't!"
Kai turned to her, his brow furrowing, and he paused on the threshold of the stairs. "Why not?"
"I..." Jinora looked hopelessly for some sort of hope, or explanation, praying that Lin would come crashing through the door. "I can't tell you," she said sadly, bringing her knees up to her chest. Her fingers were soon covered in blood, and she suspected it was the sight of it that made Kai walk over to her side, pursing his lips. His eyes were filled with hurt, like a cloudy sky just waiting for the rain to come back.
"Okay," Kai said, and she looked up at him in surprise. "But we have to get this cleaned up somehow." She watched him think. "My bed sheets," he muttered under his breath, and he had taken a step away, surely to head to the orphanage to strip and ruin his only pair of sheets just for her, when Jinora's fingers latched around his wrist.
"Wait," she sighed. "Don't. I'll show you. You just... you have to promise you won't tell anyone, okay? You cannot tell anyone."
Kai held up a hand as if reciting Hitler's pledge. "Cross my heart and hope to die," he said seriously.
Jinora led him to the basement, where Korra was curled up in the corner. "Jinora, what's-" she froze when she saw Kai, eyes widening in panic, looking like a deer in the headlights. Jinora had heard stories of Korra's hunting trips, the way a deer could crumple to the ground, its red blood blossoming over the snow. Korra's fingers tapped out a nervous pattern on her seat, like Bumi's on the tooth-coloured, stained keys of his accordion. Jinora's kind eyes met Korra's.
"It's okay," Jinora assured her. "He's a friend. My best friend."
**THE DEFINITION OF A BEST FRIEND**
The person you share everything with, who will always have your back, who you can't imagine yourself without.
In other words, your everything.
Twelve year olds have a better understanding of this than most people would believe.
Kai swelled with pride but it took a long time for Korra to relax, and longer still for the immense trust Jinora was showing to sink in. Finally, Korra grinned at him, as if deciding him trustworthy, and from the look of pride on Jinora's face, he knew he'd take the secret to the grave.
"Jinora's told me so much about you," Korra said excitedly. He wondered how starved she was for human contact, after months of having only Jinora, Lin and Bumi to talk to.
Kai flushed. "You told her about me?" he asked Jinora. His best friend smiled softly at him.
"Of course."
4.
During the year Korra stayed with them, as Jinora celebrated her thirteenth birthday, Kai grew taller than her, and the war continued. However, there were a few events that seemed especially important. The first thing that was Jinora noticed that really, for a scrawny, infuriating, silly fourteen year old boy, Kai was rather attractive. The second thing was that he came in often to visit Korra, and the two quickly struck up a friendship, and Jinora never had a single moment of doubt that Kai would betray their secret to anyone. And the third was that she committed another act of book thievery, on a bank of an icy river, having rescued it from a garbage bin in town, as she and Kai wandered down empty streets, dreading winter's impending arrival.
**ON THE DAY OF THE BOOK ROBBERY**
Was a bitter, cold autumn day stained with gray and hunger.
Rationing was harsh, chipping away at people's morale as ice spread over the water and their souls.
And basements were being checked for makeshift bomb shelters two neighbourhoods over.
Jinora held the book, titled The Adventures of Avatar Wan only for a few hours before it was ripped out of her hands. She whirled around angrily, clenching her fists like how Korra had taught her, to face a group of boys, all of them at least a couple of years older. Jinora knew who they were, some boys from school who stole money and food from the younger kids.
"Give it back," she growled, and Kai stood defensively by her side; the support erased her fear, leaving it smudged and forgotten on the blank sheet of snow gathered around their feet.
The oldest boy, Yanrah, grinned. "Give us your money and we might give your book back."
Kai glowered at Yanrah as he fished some coins out of his pocket: months of allowance, as Jinora held out her empty pockets to show she had none. "Kai," she hissed, "you don't-"
Kai shrugged her off and handed the money over. "Now give it back," he demanded.
Yanrah gave him a gap-toothed grin and tossed the book far away, where it landed in the river. "Oops."
Jinora pulled her fist back and punched. It was one thing to screw her over, but no one messed with her best friend, her personal feelings towards violence be damned. This was why she had had Korra teach her fistfighting on warm summer afternoons in the basement. Yanrah stumbled, clutching his bloody nose, blood spurting through his fingers and she felt a surge of pride, even though her knuckles ached like hot tea scorching your throat.
Yanrah ran off with his friends, who were all poking fun at his injury. Jinora watched them walk away in satisfaction; she was sure Yanrah would come back for them, one day, but for now this was a victory. She had always disliked his fondness for cruelty.
Jinora turned back to Kai, only to find his spot next to her side vacant. "Kai?" she called out.
She heard some splashing. "Over here!" he answered.
Jinora walked down the icy bank to the river, peering around a rock to see Kai wading his way through the freezing water towards her book. "Kai, honestly-" He had already reached the book, holding it up in his hands triumphantly and grinned at her through chattering teeth.
**A SIGN OF LOVE THAT IS UNDERAPPRECIATED**
The sacrifices that are done without any expectation of reciprocation.
"You saukerl," she said irritably, fighting the smile spreading across her face as she helped him back onto solid land. His pants were soaked through, clinging to his skinny legs and knobbly knees. "Why would you do that?"
"A book thief needs her books," he explained. "And a saukerl needs his saumensch."
Jinora flushed. "Thanks," she took her book from him, and maybe he took her heart back in turn.
The third thing that happened, on this day of book thievery, was that while Jinora would not say she fell in love with him on this day, there was not a day afterwards she would say she did not love him.
5.
Kai was the one who warned them about the basements. Nazi officials had just finished checking for the day, only a neighbourhood away, for basements that were deep enough to act as shelters during a bomb raid.
**THE DAY INNOCENCE DIED**
Was really a long time ago, perhaps the day you were born,
but it is a sad day when all pretenses of maintaining it are lost,
when basements, the scenes of childhood play, are turned into shelters against the cruelty of adulthood.
Korra had to leave. They destroyed all evidence of her ever living in the basement, aside from the extra bandages she would wrap around her bloodied knuckles: Jinora stored them away in a box under her bed. Jinora worried about the officials catching Korra somehow, as they weren't a lot of safe places left, more and more Jews being rounded up to die on metal trains and a flash of bullets or suffocating gas.
Whenever Jinora thought of it, and she tried not to, but it was hard not to when it was around you every day, she felt sick to her stomach. She just felt grateful that Kai had come bursting through her door when he had, giving them enough time to deal with the situation safely.
In the end, their basement wasn't deep enough and they'd have to go down the street for a bomb shelter. The only consolation was knowing, at the very least, that Kai and Lin and Bumi missed Korra as much as she did, and that she still had her family.
6.
The first bomb raid was terrifying, cooped up in a tiny little basement with the rest of Himmel Street, squashed together in a mess of survival and fear and ignorance for the young children who didn't understand. And yet, despite all that, Jinora found a sliver of hope and courage as Kai slipped his hand into hers and gripped it tightly: a sign, a promise, she was alive and he was alive with his laughter and smile and bright eyes and she forgot what was so scary, why she was so sad, because she had him. And Kai always kept his promises.
It was a few days later that he proudly presented his book to her, a tiny book with a simple brown cover and a dedication on the first page in a messy scrawl that Jinora knew was his best handwriting still: to Jinora, my saumensch. As she flipped through the pages, reading the little notes and scribbles and pictures of them - the soccer game, the start of school, the day you punched Yanrah in the face and I saved your book - and Jinora blinked back tears. She beamed at him, and thought for a moment, that perhaps, she'd kiss him.
Kai beamed back at her, as radiant as the sun and her feelings were as strong as its light, and she grew afraid, as humans are prone to do. "Thank you Kai," she said gratefully, feeling more deeply grateful than she ever had in her life.
**A NOTE ABOUT JINORA GYATSO AND KAI FONG**
I cannot say that I wish I could give their story a happier ending,
for a mere three months after this, they shared their first and last kiss.
See? Even death has a heart.
Although human hearts do tend to be far more breakable.
7.
In the end, the bomb shelter didn't do any good. Bombs fell like teardrops and smashed dreams to pieces and shattered bones and hopes alike and amidst it all, the Book Thief survived, forever an expert at being left behind. The bomb shelter warning hadn't come soon enough, she had been down in her basement, reading Kai's book again dowsed in candlelight with a better chance of not being caught by Lin when her world fell to pieces.
Her world was ashes and smoke and heartbreak.
**WHY I ADMIRE HUMANS**
They have the peculiar habit of building themselves back up again.
In time, of course.
She wandered through the rubble of her home, and say her parents' bodies, bent at strange angles and mangled with dust and ash and pain. By some miracle, she did not break, but carried on; everything seemed detached, the pain, the grief. The dust hadn't settled yet and neither had the acceptance.
**SHELL-SHOCK**
Can keep you alive, and there are many more ways to die.
But when she had trudged over to the BeiFong orphanage, Kai's book - the reason for her survival, her lifeline - clutched tightly over her heart. She refused to let go of it, clinging to it like a child clung to its mother. It's funny, the things people are forced to let go of. And when she stumbled across Kai's body, the book fell out of her hands.
"No."
A sob rose in her throat.
"No."
She dropped to her knees, pulling his body closer to her, her hair spilling across her shoulders. "You wake up right now, Kai Fong, this isn't funny, you saukerl wake up right now." She wiped her eyes with her dirty fingers, smearing ash under her eye. "Come on Kai, wake up." She shook him. "Wake up, come on." The realization crashed over her like icy water, suffocation and desperation all at once.
"NO!"
She screamed so loudly she thought her throat would tear, be ripped apart just like her happiness that laid in fragments on her hands and she did nothing to stop the tears, nothing to wipe her eyes or to stem the flow, because she knew there was no point. Nothing can bring back the dead.
"I'm sorry," she wept, bending low over his face. She smoothed his tousled hair away from his face, carved into a frown. "I'm so sorry Kai." With a mouth of regret she kissed him, softly, and his lips tasted like friendship and love and ashes.
For the rest of her life - and the Book Thief lived a long, happy life as a happy woman who grew flowers and read books and moved on and grew up but still had cracks in her skin and holes in her heart, even as her memory faded and her children grew and her husband passed away - Jinora would remember every single detail of that day.
It was both a blessing and a curse.
**REMEMBER?**
I warned you about contradictions.
And how broken hearts still have a heartbeat - they still have a life.
And Jinora did not waste hers.
Years later, Korra found her again and the two damaged women embraced like sisters. Sometimes, some things turn out okay, and we can move on from our past, and we can try to feel okay. That's all we can do; what anyone can do.
The Book Thief held a great sadness over her shoulders for the rest of her life. But this is not a sad story, I assure you, for no story is truly sad. There are always fragments of hope, of laughter and of love, and the Book Thief's story is no different. Death is not a tragedy; it is merely the next step.
One that Jinora, aged and wise and at peace, was ready to take.
**A FINAL NOTE FROM ME**
Death is not merciful.
But it is kind.
"Are you ready to come with me?" I whispered. She had not taken my hand once, but she gripped it tightly this time.
"Yes."
8.
"Missed me, saumensch?"