Title: The Restless
Fandom: PR Jungle Fury - Characters: R.J., Casey (minor Rasey)
Rating: PG
Summary: Solitude has its purpose, and so does patience.
Notes: ...What? It was bound to happen! It's David de Lautour's fault. Guilt made me do it. Insert a thousand other excuses. YES I WROTE RANGER FIC. I am blameless! And, Master Harper's mine.
- b - e - g - i - n -
"Be the world ill-conceived by full moonlight's kiss, for it doth rain on its shine to clear the peace and do it the fear. Bask in its dregs of silver film upon the eyes, casting light as a veil over night, not as the sun do burn, but as a false vision only half truth, and mostly lies."
Once upon a time, before her death, Master Harper had taught him that the soul of a poet was one of intellect that saw greater things than ordinary people saw. R.J. never got the hang of seeing the world as she did, always jotting down her haiku and sonnets and purple prose paragraphs, able to transfigure the essence of what is there into something that is greater. She did, however, praise his interpretations of her work; she said it was just the thing his "funny little mind" was capable of.
She taught him the eyesight of the eagle, to see farther than human possibility. It wasn't, however, a technique used in the heat of battle, or even on-the-go. It was a meditative skill, though the things it could be used for were beyond the scope of clearing the mind. He had asked her bluntly if the first to teach the eyesight was some perverted old man. She had laughed.
The skills he learned from each Master he trained under were invaluable in their own right, and only now were they crucial, with the Dai Shi released and Master Mao having sent him-- of all people, of all the remaining Spirit Masters-- the three little kittens in dire need of direction and guidance. Fate was shoved unfairly onto their shoulders and he was left to pick them up and push them along, like the she-wolf of the River Tiber.
Sure, business suffered more so than usual; Fran was dedicated back-up to all the emergencies they run off to greet with a wave and a dance, and did pretty good trying to be five people, but she wasn't. A for effort, but she just wasn't...well, him and all his pizza making-excellence. Maybe when the Dai Shi was defeated, he should make her his student...in those ancient Italian secrets. When the others would undoubtedly leave to conclude their Pai Zhua training.
They would leave.
That unpleasantry was one of manymanymany that strung him along that night, that left him in a sheet churning mess only a sleep aid would kill. These three were Power Rangers, Pai Zhua disciples, and most of all, teenagers. They have to fight, they had to learn, and they had to be free. Free to blow where their sails carried them, with no chains to fetter them where they didn't need to be. And they wouldn't need to be at Jungle Karma when it was all over. In fact, as Pai Zhua disciples, it was encouraged at times, when training wasn't considered complete and there was nothing more a current Master could teach. And these three...well, they were no different from anyone else before them. There were dreams in those heads, aspirations. When the Powers were gone, it'd be only a matter of time.
Except now wasn't when he should be thinking about it. It was still too early in the game. And then it'd be too late.
And so under the full moon he sat, legs folded, and remembering the one poem Master Harper had said she'd wrote for him. A focal point, an anchor. Can't think, because these three cubs are making his life for better or worse, and one in particular is bound to make it painful either which way the winds blow.
Listen to the city at night, soak in the light that makes the wolf at ease. It won't escape, but it stirs, because it knows it's a pack now, with little ones to guard, defend, protect, raise right. The lone wolf became the pack master, and that was a job R.J. took as serious as his pizzas. Of course, some long dead monkey spirit tossed in a wrench.
They just had to send him Casey...
The meditation techniques of the eagle were powerful tools for any member of the Order of the Claw. And to see farther than human sight alone was magnificent (especially between nine and eleven at night, Master Harper explained), but it held no water when he needed to see what even Master Swoop could without sight... And R.J. would rather not put a name to it, even if such a sight were possible.
Cats were, for the most part, fickle company. Tigers, jaguars, and cheetahs were loners. And it was funny, in a way, that these three loner spirits could form a bond almost resembling that of a lion's pride, and the black lion was out of like company, not forming a pride, but embodying that of one who walks alone, seeking no comfort that friends and family provide. Jarrod was reportedly a bad taste of character before the Dai Shi, and his control was questionable, but spirit nonetheless powerful. Dai Shi chose a host well.
What if it had been one of the others? Jarrod would be standing in place of one of his cubs. He would have been leader, and perhaps a good one in due time.
But no, the Dai Shi took Jarrod, and left him with his precious trio. Ones who would have greatly benefited from a feline master, surely, but R.J. was doing all right, if he said so himself. And they made him so proud, just like any parent. Children finding their way in the doomed quest to save the world.
But along came Master Finn, and that chilling feeling of loss. Lily and Theo finding what they needed in Masters Phant and Swoop was excellent. Expanding one's abilities, ever a Pai Zhua's duty. And even if he could understand Casey's envy, that his seniors were expanding theirs and him still tucked in with R.J., it hurt. Casey's want of a new master hurt, but the ultimate answer to that is never letting it show. Yet then his father, of all the remaining people in the world it could be, became the threat he feared, as Casey's excitement boiled in Master Finn's presence...
Lose the boy.
He didn't want to lose the boy. Add insult to injury, the threat was his father, but no matter who it'd been, he didn't want to lose the boy. Let someone else be the one he looked to for help, training, direction. Didn't want to lose Casey. Let the others go, but not Casey. Please don't go.
The roof's trap door was inched open, silence save for the disturbance in the air it caused. R.J. peeked out one eye to his right, then close it again, and listened. Cats were predators, silent stalkers of their prey. The three had to be what their animal's instincts called them to do. While close, it wasn't in the right tempo. Nevertheless, R.J. let the cub take a place beside him, prepared for a lost meditation in lieu of talking about whatever plagued the ripe young mind.
"R.J.?"
"If it's about the plumbing," he started, "there's duct tape and a wrench set in the closet at the top of the stairs, and you know where the mop is."
It took a moment, but there was the laugh he wanted, breathy and incredulous. "No, no man, not quite where I was going." Casey's tone lightened. "I was just...wondering if you were okay."
Now R.J. looked at him. "I'm always okay," he said, almost offended if he ever seemed otherwise, despite past evidence to the contrary. "It's one of my better charms."
"Yeah, but..." Casey wouldn't be put at ease so simply. He looked lost, almost. "There was this...mood or something before we all went to bed." An animal's sense at work. "But everything was fine tonight; we had fun. But I couldn't sleep. And from what I'm looking at, neither could you."
Only because R.J. hadn't tried to yet. "Yeah, that might have been me." There were golden opportunities when one could get away with lying believably. Sadly, this was not one of those times. "There were just things I had to think about."
"Like?"
"What's next." He didn't mean for it to sound loaded, burdened with things beyond the threat of the Dai Shi. But Casey's solemn expression that followed tugged at R.J.'s heart, but never took his eyes off his student. Casey recognized a problem, and in the shadows cast by the moon, R.J. could almost make out the faint tiger's markings across Casey's face before they shattered to the wind when Casey broke eye contact first, instead turning his attention listlessly to the limited cityscape beyond.
"...Are there things we need to talk about?" he asked quietly, meekly almost, and R.J. wanted so badly to not go down that road, brush off whatever it was stirring between them. Make a quip about tomorrow's lunch schedule or practice sessions, or maybe the state of current politics. Something. Anything.
But wolves weren't cowards, and neither was he. "Yes," he murmured thickly, "but it should wait until the Dai Shi's defeated." A little groundwork to bare; this couldn't be allowed to flourish into a distraction. "And only if you still want to talk by then. I'll understand if you don't."
"My responsibility?"
"All yours, Case."
Casey fidgeted, and R.J. willed him not to say anymore, begged him to in his mind. He didn't, yet R.J. had to suppress a flinch when Casey rested a cheek to the curve of his shoulder. So torn, so absolutely torn. There weren't supposed to be feelings between a master and student.
However, good graces blew his way as he once more heard the trap door open, feet pad onto the asphalt shingle flooring, and then close again, all in the same half-silence Casey had demonstrated. Again, his mind chastises them, and made a mental note to get them a temporary teacher in the arts of Silent But Deadly.
These two kittens didn't say anything, even as they gathered about him, probably trying to soak in a new 'mood'. Not that the wolf spirit didn't like the company. This was its pack. This was its pride. This is where it got the most comfort, knowing its comrades were all around it, and most importantly, recognized its leadership (when the spandex wasn't on, of course; after all, tigers had to expand).
And R.J. let this go one for another few minutes. Closing his eyes, his thoughts calmed. It better not always be this way, he thought. I won't be able to focus ever if it's the case.
He sighed. Loudly. "Don't you guys," he announced, "have work tomorrow?"
- c - l - o - s - e -
End Notes: 'Arts of Silent But Deadly'? Either it's a promise of a gas leak...or someday, I'm gonna write that JF/NS crossover that're really, really bugging me. Pai Zhua might be Chinese and Ninjitsu Japanese, but there is a certain kind of compatibility between the two series. And maybe I'll finally tap in to the CamHunter scenario I always wanted to do. Yeah, my priorities are totally straight.
