Chapter Text
The lingering presence of malevolent energy was so thick, it clung to their skin like molasses. Any plant life that once sprouted wilted, souring the air with the stench of rotten vegetation. Chase spotted an amputated limb that once belonged to a creature of sorts. The blood had long since coagulated, and maggots were eagerly feasting on the final course. Still, he could tell what once ran through its veins was black and oily rather than red and metallic.
“They weren’t kidding when they said they had a pest problem.” Dojo gagged, his face a sicklier shade of green compared to usual. If the stench was bad for them, they can only imagine how much more punishing it is on a dragon’s heightened olfactory senses.
“Someone else seemed to have handled it before we did.” Dashi hummed, noting how, aside from Chase’s find, the wind carried smoke originating from a pyre that had clearly been used to dispose of the beasts’ corpses properly.
“Then what are we even doing here?” Chase scowled. He was not a fan of waste, and the last thing he ever wanted to waste was his personal time.
“To investigate.” Guan replied without missing a beat, frowning as he inspected a handful of soil. It was cold as death against his palm, each grain tainted to shun any attempts at agriculture unless thoroughly purified.
“Well, we can keep doing that tomorrow. I’m beat.” Dashi made a show of stretching his joints. “Let’s head back to the inn.”
While eating, they kept their ears open for any news regarding the attack. Though there were variations, as was typical of gossip, all of it shared one constant: that the monstrous creatures had been slain and driven back by a group of warriors clad in black. Some said they were shadows brought to life, others claimed witnessing them bending the elements to their whim and that they could summon an arsenal of weaponry out of thin air.
“Sounds like ninjas.” Dashi hummed through his half-chewed mouthful.
“Shouldn’t they be in Japan?” Chase frowned.
“On boat, it would only take weeks or months at most for them to reach here.” Guan estimated.
“They committed that much time and effort into exterminating a few pests?” Chase shook his head. “No, there’s something bigger at play here.”
“Likely whoever created these people’s newer and uglier furry neighbours in the first place.” Dashi agreed.
Once they had gathered as much information as they could from the townsfolk, they retreated to their rooms for further discussion and, more importantly, rest. Unfortunately for Chase, the latter eluded him.
This wasn’t new. Unlike Dashi, who could knock himself out wherever and whenever he wanted to and Guan, who slept like the dead once his head touched a pillow, Chase found himself living up to his namesake whenever it came to slumber. He meditated for a few incense sticks of time, his awareness floating between consciousness and unconsciousness, but even that was no proper substitute for actual sleep.
Well, there’s only one option left.
He climbed onto the rooftops. The clouds were so thick, they smothered the moonlight, casting everything beneath in hues of grey and black. Unbothered by the darkness, Chase leapt across the rooftops, relishing in the steady rhythm of quick steps and graceful leaps.
During his nightly stroll, he spotted a wine merchant closing shop for the night. Hmm, Dashi wouldn’t say no to a drink, and Chase wouldn’t say no to being owed a solid. Dropping down, he bought two bottles from the startled man and decided to head home.
Along the way, Chase froze. Squinting his eyes and straining his senses....there! Another figure darting across the rooftops. Except the footsteps weren’t as light as Dashi’s, and the silhouette lacked Guan’s bulk. Chase recalled the gossip and Dashi’s theory. Ninjas were masters of stealth, but also of assassination and espionage. Had he stumbled upon a bigger conspiracy?
Eyes narrowing, Chase stealthily trailed behind this figure. He could’ve easily caught up to them and had to resist doing so even as the shadows seemed deadset on spiriting them away. However, regret reared its head as his target took a sharp turn around a higher rooftop. That singular heartbeat out of sight was all he needed to vanish, leaving Chase alone with his internal curses.
Where were they?
His question was answered by a body slamming into his. Chase cried out, but muscle memory kicked in.
“Repulse the Monkey!” just like that, he turned his opponent’s momentum against them. However, they swiftly recovered mid-air, landing on their feet as light as a cat. The air charged and combusted faster than a spark on oil.
They charged at one another, trading blows. Adrenaline crescendoed throughout Chase’s systems as his opponent easily matched him. However, he had the slight upper hand thanks to the sharp kunai he wielded, forcing Chase to focus more on defence. Still, when Chase found an opening, his hand darted out like a viper, landing a blow on his cheek and simultaneously ripping the mask covering the lower half of his face.
Chase froze at what he saw, and that moment of hesitation cost him.
“Ninja Air Fist!” golden eyes widened as a concentrated gust of air (?! He could control the wind like Dashi?) hit him like a solid punch to the stomach.
Lungs spasming, Chase was too slow to stop his assailant from pinning him against a wall with a kunai held to his throat. The blade was held steadily over his jugular, hinting at skill and experience.
“Who are you? Why are you following me?” the man, no, boy, for he couldn’t be older than Guan at best, growled, reddish brown eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“Chase Young, and I was following you to do this! Lotus Strike!” the grunt of pain as Chase’s palm struck his solar plexus was music to his ears. He stumbled away but quickly powered through the pain. Mutual grudging respect brushed their conscience as they came to a standstill.
“So, the Sorcerer’s minions have decided to learn new tricks?” his opponent sneered.
“Who are you calling a minion?!” Chase bristled. “I’m a Xiaolin Monk and someday, I’m going to be the greatest Xiaolin Dragon.”
“What’s that?” the boy asked, tilting his head. “Wait, so you’re not with the Sorcerer? Then what are you doing out here?”
“Well, I wanted to take a nightly stroll and enjoy a good drink under the stars.” Chase paused, remembering the gloomy overcast. “Or in this case, just a good drink.”
“Are you even old enough to drink?” the boy raised a brow.
“Like you’re one to talk, we’re the same age!” Chase retorted. Despite the boy’s proud nose and sharp cheekbones, he could spot traces of baby fat clinging to his face.
“You don’t know anything about me.” The boy tried to sound cold, but crossing his arms and turning away, he just came off as juvenile.
“Then let’s fix that.” Chase swaggered forward and bowed with such flair, it was clearly in jest. “Chase Young, Xiaolin Monk of Water.”
“.......Ninya Norisugi, ninth heir to the Norisu Clan.” Ninya bowed in return in a more perfunctory manner.
Norisu Clan? The pronunciation and slight accent in Ninya’s voice- they weren’t native to this land. Could they be the ninjas that had defeated the monsters? Why were they here? Who were they? He thought back to the fight they’d had mere seconds ago, how he’d yet to feel the twinge of fresh bruises or ache of sore muscles because his blood was still shimmering.
Meeting Ninya was the last thing he expected tonight, yet here he was. This couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Well then, Ninya, care to share a drink with me?” Chase offered, sitting down on the cold tiles.
Ninya hesitated. Ugh, it was the same look Guan had when he first joined their team. Back when he believed rules were absolute when they were anything but.
“Or would the little ninja prefer a warm cup of milk instead?” Chase taunted.
“We’re the same age, jerk.” Ninya glared, plopping down beside him and snatching a bottle.
“Cheers.” Chase chirped, lifting his before taking a gulp. He’s definitely tasted better stuff, but the slightly fruity aftertaste was alright. Beside him, Ninya did the same.
When they lowered their bottles, Ninya coughed and spluttered, his cheeks akin to red peach blossoms. Hah! This kid’s never had alcohol before. Chase preened, knowing he had given him one of his firsts, had shared it with him, even. His delight sweetened further when he sensed that the liquid remaining in Ninya’s bottle was more than his, revealing the small sip he’d taken compared to Chase’s.
“God, this is horrible-hey!” Ninya squawked when Chase snatched his bottle away.
Grinning, Chase downed another mouthful, some of it dripping out the corner of his mouth and trailing down his bobbing adam's apple. With a satisfied ‘ah’, he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“You didn’t seem to like it, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.” Chase shrugged tauntingly.
“I do mind.” Ninya gritted out.
“And?” Chase’s smirk sharpened, eyes gleaming in challenge. ‘What are you going to do about it?’ seared through the air, hotter than the alcohol still burning their throats.
“The gain is rarely worth the loss I’m about to give your sorry ass.” With a cocky smirk, Ninya swung his leg to sweep Chase off-balance. Backflipping away from the kick, Chase landed a few feet away from Ninya.
Their eyes met.
And the chase was on.
The rhythmic beat of his footsteps from before metamorphosed into a dance. Where one went, the other followed. Chase felt like he was playing with fire, tongues of it licking at his fingertips, heat encompassing his entire flesh to combust his nerves. Technique after technique was unleashed, their voices grabbing the dreary night by the edges and tearing it apart with glee. To call it a fight would be an insult. It was a connection. Their bodies were the brushes and stories both, and Chase never wanted it to end.
His cheeks were aching, not from hits but from grinning. And even with the sweat dripping down his temple, he could see an equally excited grin mirrored on Ninya’s face. If such an expression could be bottled, no festival would have need for fireworks ever again.
“I thought ninjas were masters of thievery. Yet, I still count two bottles.” Chase taunted, dangling the prizes in front of him.
At that, Ninya’s grin sharpened with teeth. He reared his arm back, and Chase braced for an attack. Instead, he threw something down, enveloping the entire roof with thick, red smoke reeking of brimstone. Eyes screwing shut and hand instinctively covering his nose, Chase yelped as a kick nearly knocked him off the roof.
Windmilling his arms, he regained his balance. However, the weight in his hand was one bottle lighter.
“Count again.” Ninya smirked, bottle dangling from his finger.
“How-” only Dashi’s ever been able to snatch something from Chase. The loss should’ve stung. Instead, it added fuel to the fire of intrigue.
“Overconfidence is the most dangerous form of carelessness.” Ninya said smugly. High on his victory, he tossed his head back and emptied a quarter of the bottle in one gulp.
Only to immediately choke and heave, thumping his chest that seemed determined to kick his own lungs out of his ribs.
“PFFT-!” Chase laughed so hard, tears sprung to his eyes, and he bent over double to clutch his stomach. “You-! Your face!” he guffawed, almost falling off the roof again in his hysterics.
“This-this tastes like donkey piss.” Ninya wheezed, wiping the foul remnants off his lips. “How do some people drink it like water?!”
“I mean, to be fair, I have tasted better. My friend Dashi could probably introduce you to something decent.” ‘And milder.’ He mused. It’s a miracle Ninya’s coordination was still on point.
“Is he a monk like you? You still haven’t told me what a Xiaolin person is.” Ninya asked.
Chase resisted the urge to puff his chest like some pheasant puffing his plumage for a mating dance. “Well-”
“Ninya!”
They jumped at the sudden call that unfolded their corner of the world back into place.
Ninya muttered a curse under his breath before cupping his mouth. “Aniki! I’m here!”
Chase glared in clear annoyance as another figure clad in dark garb similar to Ninya’s landed beside him. He was older, with a taller stature, dual katanas sheathed at his hips and a short cloak wrapped around his broader shoulders. His long hair was the same greenish-brown as Ninya’s, but tied half up in a neat bun, and his face was narrower with a sharper jawline.
“Who is this?” he asked sharply, stepping protectively in front of Ninya. It was a familiar gesture, one Chase has performed, received and encountered countless times. This time it was the third, and it irked him.
“He’s my friend.” The retort on the tip of Chase’s tongue died. “Aniki, I think he can help us.”
“Not can, will.” Chase straightened into a more authoritative countenance. “My friends and I are a team of warriors specially trained to handle supernatural threats. Our mission is to handle the pests and ensure they don’t cause any more harm.”
Ninya’s brother evaluated Chase’s words. Dashi would’ve been better at this, or even Guan. But Chase wasn’t a child, and he’ll be damned if he’s put down like one.
“We are open to further discussion with your team.” The man said.
“You can find us at the inn. Room nine.” No name was needed, there was only one in the village.
The man nodded, turning around to leave. Ninya turned to follow but hesitated.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Tomorrow.” Chase reassured, sure as the sky is blue.
The next day, Chase and Ninya were separated from the group in the stampede. The next day, both of them faced off against a bear the size of an oni with claws longer than their forearms.
The next day, for a moment that’d be lost to everyone but themselves in the passage of time, they forgot what it meant to have a blind spot. Chase's hair brushed against Ninya's red headband, always within reach but never overstepping. One’s technique complemented the other, movements were coordinated without words, weapons aiming to wound where fists and feet missed and vice versa. Water spilt in place of blood and fire offered protection proportionate to its destruction.
On that soil tainted by death and corruption, a seed was planted, and slowly, it was watered by the blood, sweat and tears they shed together.
“Again, Chase?” Ninya sighed when he saw the tear on the shoulder of Chase’s robes.
“I think I understand what Dashi meant now when he says everyone wants a piece of you.” Chase joked. Even when clouded by bestial emotion, the monsters the Sorcerer warped humans into seemed to have barbed hooks for hands.
Ninya sat down by the tea table and patted the spot beside him. “Take it off.”
“Oh my, how bold. But the auspicious date is nowhere near.” Chase gasped like a scandalised fiancé.
“You’ll have a date with injuries and a cold if you don’t fix that tear before your shirt’s unsalvageable.” Ninya deadpanned.
Truthfully, Chase could fix it himself. He knew how to sew, as it was a crucial skill for self-sufficiency. Still, Ninya seemed to be a man of many talents himself, and Chase was curious to see how proficient he was at all of them.
Ninya had steady hands and a good eye, since the final result consisted of even stitches that weren’t too tight or too loose. Chase did a few experimental stretches, confirming the thread would hold the seams together.
“Thank you. You can’t even tell it was torn.” Chase praised sincerely.
“My ane taught me that trick.” Ninya’s lip twitched.
“How about I teach you one in return?” Chase offered. “Don’t look so surprised. I see the way you look at me in battle. You want to learn, don’t you?”
“And what do you want in return?” Ninya asked warily.
“For you to surprise me.” Chase said cryptically, snickering when he saw the slight furrow between Ninya’s thick brows. He was too easy to rile up.
“........Floating Snake has the least stupid name.” Ninya gave in.
“Good choice-hey! The names aren’t stupid!” Chase hissed.
“Ducks Eating Crackers.” Ninya deadpanned.
“Ducks are menaces. Have you ever faced off against an angry duck?” Chase glared.
Ninya inclined his head. “Fair point. Now, are you going to teach me Floating Snake?”
And Chase did. He taught him Floating Snake. Then Rooster Kick, then Jumping Tiger, then Lotus Strike, on and on until sweat and fleeting smiles stretched that afternoon into summer. It was freedom painted in brightness and warmth and he never wanted it to end.
Ninya’s footsteps brushed against the cracked tiles, lighter than a petal. Every movement was precise and steady despite the heightened beat of his heart. Peering around the corner, he smirked as his target was within sight. Just a few more steps.....
“Lizard Lunge!”
His cry of shock erupted into bursts of laughter as he and Chase play-wrestled across the roof until the latter managed to pin him down. Straddling Ninya, Chase leaned down close enough for their noses to almost brush, grinning like a cat who caught the canary.
“I believe that’s 12 to 10. I think you’re getting careless, Ninya.” Chase teased, golden eyes near luminous behind the curtain of his hair.
“I think you need to count again. It’s 12 to 11.” Ninya corrected.
“Still ahead of you~” Chase sing-songed.
Ninya rolled his eyes as Chase got off him. Dusting himself off, his playfulness immediately soured to worry when he spotted the bandage wrapped around Chase’s bicep.
“The vermin got a lucky shot.” Chase shrugged off.
“You’re lucky you didn’t lose your big head.” Ninya scolded. Brows furrowing in concentration, he used Art of Healing to reduce the swelling.
“I didn’t call you here to play nursemaid.” Chase huffed but didn’t pull away. “C’mon, I wanna show you something.”
Together, they ventured into the forest nearby. Neither of them were strangers to this sort of terrain, and their reflexes prevented them from careless stumbles. Still, they walked close enough for the backs of their hands to brush against each other occasionally. Soon, the muggy petrichor turned into steamy humidity and Ninya gasp.
“A hot spring!” he realized.
“I heard the innkeeper’s wife talking about it.” Chase boasted, unbuttoning his shirt, his sweaty skin eager to be rid of the stuffy layer.
“I’ll be sure to leave her a bigger tip next time.” Ninya chuckled, loosening his haramaki.
Stripped to their undergarments, both boys groaned as they submerged their sore bodies into the heated water. After having to make do with barely lukewarm baths in cramped tubs for the past few weeks, this was a godsend. Comfortable silence accompanied the steam and birdsong, neither seeing a need to disrupt the tranquility.
Ninya cupped some of the water in his palms. This was not the work of kindling, flint and steel, merely nature. It reminded him of the stories his siblings would tell him.....
“My homeland had places like this.” Ninya said.
“Oh?” Chase opened his eyes, so he knew he had his full attention. Ninya wore his heart on his sleeve, yet prying his lips open was like getting blood from stone. What a paradox, his new friend was.
“Tell me more about your home.” Chase asked, sitting straighter.
“Well.” Ninya’s casual shrug did not match his tone. “It’s called Japan, meaning ‘sun’s origin’. Located in the east-”
“Booooring.” Chase drawled, splashing water onto Ninya with a flick of his fingers, derailing his explanation with a yelp. “I wanna hear about your home, the place you grew up in, the markets, the festivals, all that. Not a geography lesson.”
“Oh.” Ninya winced and an uncomfortable feeling hooked under Chase’s ribs, tugging harshly the longer the now uneasy silence dragged on.
“I.....I don’t really remember much of my homeland.” Ninya confessed haltingly. “We embarked on our journey when I was young. Honestly, I’m more familiar with the ocean than the soils of my ancestors’ roots.”
“I see.” Chase said carefully. He knew their quest for vengeance against the Sorcerer was a personal one. He never thought the blood feud went that deep. Unbidden, old memories, unwanted memories, floated to the surface of his mind; his grandmother’s scathing copper eyes and fake jade bangles, his mother’s quiet misery, his father, whose presence was found in absence, debt and an empty bottle, and a vegetable cart.
“Home towns are overrated anyways.” Chase waved off the sorry mood and memories. “Take it from me. I couldn’t care less where I took my first breaths after sliding out of my mother.”
“What about your family?” Ninya frowned.
“You’ve already met them.” Much to Chase’s slight chagrin, because the devious spark in Dashi’s eyes whenever Ninya was around or mentioned did not bode well for him.
Ninya blinked, and the slump of his shoulders eased into something lighter.
“I suppose home can be found in people rather than a place.” He smiled, scooting closer so their shoulders could touch.
Chase swallowed. Sometimes, being in Ninya’s proximity was a toss-up between rediscovering the joy of simple touches and relearning them entirely. For all that the Norisu’s youngest heir griped about Chase’s capriciousness, he had no idea how often the monk had swallowed threads of emotions tangled by his hand.
Chase wasn’t a ‘ladies man’ like Dashi, but he wasn’t a fool. He had an inkling that every thread was but an extension of a tapestry every poet yearned to capture, or better yet, achieve for themselves. He also knew with absolute certainty that others shunned these same threads for fear they would become their noose.
Still, Chase wasn’t a coward. Not because he was immune to fear, but because he never let it stop him from acting anyways.
“Chase?” Ninya blinked as Chase brought his hand to his face, wet fingertips tickling his cheek. Slowly, his calloused palm inched further and further behind until.....
“HEY!” Ninya glared as Chase stole his hair ribbon, sending his hair tumbling down his back. The locks clung to his wet body, tips fanning out across the spring’s surface.
“You should let your hair down more often.” Chase snickered. Seriously, his top knot was so tight, he felt a headache just from looking at it.
“It gets in the way.” Ninya scowled. As if to prove his point, he blew away a loose lock dangling distractingly between his eyes.
“Can’t relate.” Chase flipped his own long, dark mane over his shoulder with a faux-haughty air.
“Spoiled prince.” Ninya’s scowl turned into a devious smirk as he unleashed a small Ninja Hydro Fist to splash Chase’s entire face.
Spluttering, Chase blinked the water off his lashes. “Oh, it is on!”
Only the moon heard their shrieks of laughter echoing through the spring.
“We’re not that different, are we?” Ninya mused. It was another sleepless night for them both. If sleep would not grace them, they can only seek calm with each other.
“What gave it away?” Chase snarked.
Ninya huffed at his attitude but continued. “To not be able to visit the places we like or fully commit to the things we like.”
“Or be with the people we love.” Chase murmured, but in the twilight stillness, it made their ears ring.
“Monks usually take a vow of celibacy. Does this apply to you too?” Ninya asked, staring at the sky instead of Chase, but not ignoring him either.
“Attachment is frowned upon and possession is forbidden.” Chase licked his teeth. “Yet, compassion, which is unconditional love, is central to a Xiaolin Monk’s code. Thus, you could say that we’re encouraged to love.”
(How ironic that he excels at the former two, yet struggles with the latter.)
Ninya remained in silent contemplation. He was the most outgoing amongst his siblings, yet, what remained unsaid remained introspective and enigmatic. The stars from above were reflected in his eyes. Chase imagined the stardust melting in bronze braziers.
“I’m sorry, Chase.”
Chase blinked. Sorry for what?
Ninya finally turned to look at him. It was like looking at a dying ember. You can breathe as much as you want, but you were forbidden from touching it.
“There's something I need to tell you.”
“Do I hafta tell Dashi to fetch a shovel?” Dojo asked when Chase stormed into the room, ozone permeating the walls and clouds darkening outside.
“Shut up, Dojo.” Chase snapped, not in the mood for his annoying comebacks today, or yesterday, or the day before yesterday.
“........he’s leaving tomorrow, isn’t he?” Dojo set down the chicken bone he’d been gnawing on.
Dojo could hear Chase’s molars grind together as he clenched his jaw, nails gouging bloody crescents into his palms. The dragon winced, surprised (and very relieved) the kid still had enough restraint not to summon a thunderstorm right then and there. Chase has always been......possessive of the few people he loved. Like the element he embodied, he could only contain it for so long until it inevitably spilt over. Dojo knew the other elder monks disapproved of this, because when an ocean holds too tightly, the only fate that awaits the one in its grasp is drowning.
“He can leave tonight for all I care.” Chase grumbled without any of his usual bite.
“He’s a good kid, all of us are gonna miss him.” Dojo tried to console. “But hey, that’s life. You can stay afloat however you want, but it’s an endless ocean of duties and obligations. Can only do so much to choose which currents to ride.”
Dojo patted himself on the back. That was an analogy that Master Fung would’ve approved of. He dug into a succulent, savoury meat skewer as a reward. As he reached for another, he stiffened.
Chase was quiet.
Too quiet.
Outside, the skies cleared.
The stick dropped from Dojo’s claws. “Chase-!”
He was out the window before the stick hit the floor.