The Kite Fighters Read Online Free PDF Page A

once that his brother could do it. It would be beautiful—truly fit for a King.
    The whole family had a role in the endeavor. Young-sup helped by fetching supplies; he would sometimes stay to talk a little, or just to sit and watch. Their mother kept the little sisters away from the room so Kee-sup could work. Their father bought two rolls of the finest-quality rice paper. He, too, stopped by the boys' room from time to time to check on the kite's progress.
    At last the sheet of paper was complete. The brothers stood side by side and surveyed the work critically.
    The paper was indeed beautiful. Dozens of identical red scales covered it. Each scale overlapped its neighbor,
and the rows of scales overlapped one another in perfect, symmetrical rhythm. Every scale was outlined in black.

    "You've done it, brother! It will make a wonderful kite!"
    Kee-sup knit his brows, and for a fleeting moment Young-sup thought how much he looked like their father. "What's the matter? Aren't you pleased with your work?"
    Kee-sup shook his head. "It's good, I know. But it's still not quite right—something's missing."
    "What do you mean? It's amazing! All you have to do now is fit it onto the frame. Not even Kite Seller Chung has made such a kite as this!"
    "It's still not right. I don't know exactly what it is..." Kee-sup's voice trailed off.
    Young-sup felt a familiar impatience at his brother's artistic scruples.
    Two days later Kee-sup was still refusing to cut the paper. Arguing over it yet again that evening, the brothers looked up in surprise and bowed hastily when their father entered the room.
    He frowned at Young-sup. "You were arguing with your older brother," he said.
    "Father, I was only trying to express that it would be disrespectful to keep the King waiting—"
    Shaking his head abruptly, his father cut off Young-sup's words. "Your brother has been capped. He is no longer a boy. You must not forget this. You cannot quarrel with him as if he were a puppy. You will not treat him so discourteously again."

    Young-sup kept his head bowed throughout his father's speech, as was proper when accepting a reprimand. He fought to keep his face blank, even as his throat tightened with the feeling of injustice.
It's just a bat,
he thought rebelliously.
    Kee-sup cleared his throat. "Father. I have worked hard. I find the design very good. But—" He hesitated.
    "Something is missing."
    "Yes."
    Silence again. Then, "Sleep now, my son. Perhaps morning will bring you an answer."
    Young-sup felt a fleeting curiosity; he knew his father well enough to know that nothing he said was ever without a reason. But the wondering soon left his mind as other thoughts seemed to fill up the darkness. He tossed about, unable to sleep.
    Kee-sup is my brother, the same as he has always been. But now, somehow, I'm supposed to treat him differently.
After spending what seemed like half the night in restless thought, Young-sup decided to speak respectfully to
Kee-sup when they were around others—especially their father.

    Sternly he told himself that he had to try, for nothing would change the fact that Kee-sup had been born first.
    ***
    The boys' father was known in his work as Rice Merchant Lee. The farmers whose rice he bought respected him because although he demanded the highest quality from them, he treated them fairly. And his customers knew that their rice would always be white and pure, without stones or leaves or other debris to pad out the bags' weight or bulk.
    So he was able to provide a good living for his family. But long years in the business had taught him caution. One year of drought or flood would mean hard times for the farmers and for himself. Lee was not a stingy man, but always he watched his earnings carefully.
    The greatest part of his income was spent on hiring the best tutor he could afford. The tutor came to the house every day to give his sons lessons. Lee's plan was for Kee-sup to enter the King's court as a