Hey guys! I'd first like to dedicate this fic to Psychedelic-Inkblot, who's been a loyal reviewer and sends me the most wonderfully spastic PMs ever. Love you, and stay hyper and happy.
Back to the topic at hand: This is a new fic, and I pray that you will enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. My Chinese heritage definitely helped enhance the realism of this story, but outside research was definitely necessary. I took some...err...artistic liberties with this story, so if you are Tibetan and feel that my story is a cultural insult, by all means contact me. You'll come to realize that I can be an infallible, politically-incorrect bitch.
In the words of our beloved leader, freedom (of speech) rocks.
Enjoy!
The mist swept around the midday sun in folds and ribbons. A raw, distant cry rolled down the verdant slopes of the Bayan Har Shan and swelled tenfold into a string of successive echoes, one by one slicing through the thick, sun-drenched haze. It was the only sharp feature in a landscape softened by the omnipresent clouds, as if the gods vowed to safeguard their only holy sanctuary on Earth with obscuring layers of fog. And so Tibet, the Roof of the World, came to be.
But beyond the mountains the sky was a startling sheet of crystal blue, perhaps a gift of penitence from the gods for branding their proclaimed territory with a circular stratum of fog. To some Tibetans, the sky beyond their cursed halo of cloud cover instead might have come across as a cruel taunt, a reminder of their isolation from the rest of the unseamed world. And so, on their lonely perch above the rest of the world, the Tibetans stood alone in spiritual purity and remote curiosity, twirling their prayer beads all the while.
Slowly, deliberately, the rest of the world moved in.
Sasuke witnessed the bleeding of Eastern culture in the streets of Gyêgu on his first day in Tibet. Amusedly, he recalled the glossy pages of National Geographic that Kiba shoved in his face the day he burst into Sasuke's dorm in a fit of spiritual fanaticism. Pointing to the nomadic children swathed in vibrantly-dyed coats, tilting their heads at their unknown audience in unconcealed awe, Kiba passionately declared Buddhism his new religion as if atheism was going out of style. And so, after waxing poetic for a good half-hour, Kiba affirmed that a pilgrimage to Tibet was the only practical step towards achieving nirvana.
"Have fun," Sasuke responded without missing a beat.
Kiba looked at him pointedly. "I believe your immortal soul is in grave danger," he pressed on. Sasuke's mouth twitched at the mumbled afterthought, "and so is my wallet."
Sasuke sighed, rolling up the magazine and tapping Kiba's head in annoyance. "Look, Kiba, I've got nothing to offer. I'm not exactly your party animal -"
"But this is Tibet -"
"- or your dependable road trip partner. I know your hygiene habits, most of which are definitely not conducive to your health, or mine. And don't look at me like that, you pissed in my sink last year-"
"The toilet was too far away, and you know I have no bladder control!"
"- And sitting in a car, or a plane, or a hotel, with you for more than twelve hours would be like placing me in an incubator with the words "Infect me" written all over the goddamn petri dish -"
"- For chrissakes, stop making me sound like a diseased dog!"
"And I'm not religious. At all," Sasuke finished.
"Oh," Kiba replied morosely, and that was that.
Until Kiba threatened to mail Candid Camera-worthy shots of Sasuke to his parents, involving a highlighter, a can of cocoa, and Sasuke's very naked ass.
Which Sasuke, of course, reciprocated with a plan that called for Kiba's corpse, lead weights, and the Yangtze River.
And so, as classes wound down and students succumbed to the lethargy of summer, Sasuke inevitably found himself flipping through the pages of the National Geographic magazine. The laughter and good humor evident on the Tibetans' tan faces, coupled with the shots of yak-riding and fieldwork, made Sasuke wonder how the Tibetans had isolated themselves for so long in their seemingly blissful, untainted bubble.
But Sasuke gave himself a self-congratulatory nod as he walked through the village green of Gyêgu with a group of soul-searching students from Qinghua University. As he expected, those glossy photos failed to capture the undertones of popular culture that slipped under the cracks of Tibet's seemingly impenetrable barrier: throngs of teenagers wearing navy-blue jeans, monks talking rapidly into cell phones, and posters of the latest milky-skinned Chinese pop stars. So much for Kiba's pure and untarnished Tibet.
Nevertheless, the group stuck out like a sore thumb, to say the least. "There's a man following us," Sakura whispered urgently to Sasuke, gripping his shirt in apprehension.
Sasuke shrugged her hand off and scowled. "There's a horde of them following us."
Sakura tilted her head surreptitiously to the side, and she nearly jumped out of her skin as a pool of inquisitive black eyes and ruddy faces earnestly beamed at her. Jesus, talk about subtlety!
"Kiba, put the goddamn camera back into your bag!" Sasuke spat at the grinning brunette, who stood in front of the crowd and hopped backwards, his face ostentatiously crammed in the eyepiece of the camcorder.
"And say hello to Sasuke, a fine specimen of a man with liquid nitrogen coursing through his veins, scaring all the good citizens of Tibet away," Kiba narrated loudly. "We almost had to put a leash on him when he went Ape-man on us and jumped the statue of Buddha, gnawing away -"
"Kiba!"
"I kid, Sakura. And, uh, forgive me, O Holy One, if you're listening. Don't strike Sasuke down with lightning, please." That earned a round of barely-concealed snickers from the group. "Oh hot damn, justice is sweet! Sasuke, turn around!"
"Tch. I already saw the mob, idiot," Sasuke snorted, folding his arms.
"No, there's a creeper behind you! I'm not kidding!"
"Give it up, Kiba."
"Uh, Sasuke. I think he's right," Ino pointed out. "There's a man...uh...flapping his hands behind you."
Sakura's breathing hitched, and she let out a small squeak, quickly shoving herself in front of Sasuke as a protective shield. Sasuke rolled his eyes and turned –
"Holy mother of fu-!" Sasuke uncharacteristically leaped backwards as a man – god, I didn't know Tibetans could be over 6 feet tall! – excitedly beat his extended sleeves in the air like ribbons over Sasuke's head, a happy salutation to Kiba's camera. As Sasuke lost his footing and stumbled onto his behind – to the unconcealed mirth of his group - the tall man halted and towered above him. Sasuke, in an attempt to retain his dignity, glared back. To his astonishment, the man's grimy, coarse face melted into a toothy smile, and he offered his hand to Sasuke. Sasuke warily took the dark hand and thanked him curtly, wondering if this was a taste of the legendary compassion that Tibetan people were known for. As he gingerly stood up, he winced as a sharp jolt of pain rolled down his lower back. The man's flat, creased eyes turned to Sasuke in concern, and before Sasuke knew it, Sasuke's feet were lifted off the ground.
"S-sir! Wait one damn minute!" Sasuke spluttered indignantly, his cheeks flaming as the man innocently slipped his hands under Sasuke's thighs and hoisted him onto his back. "Wha-I demand you, put me down!" The man grunted in response and, with fresh resolve, marched in front of the group and put a tomato-red Sasuke, legs wrapped around the man's waist, on exhibit for all of Tibet to see. Sasuke buried his face in the man's furry hood in humiliation as catcalls and lewd crooning followed. Oh, Buddha, what had I done in my past life?
"Just flaunt those hips like that, Uchiha, and you'll damn every man in Tibet to hell!" Kiba crowed, losing all semblance of piety. "Man, to think I got it all on camera! Oh, happy day!"
Oh, yes. Sasuke was definitely going to go with Kiba's corpse floating in the Yangtze River. Oh, right. Buddha, forgive him.
Sasuke's anger quietly simmered down as the silhouette of angular mountains on the East sucked the sun lifeless, tainting the amber light with shades of blue and grey. The man, with another gesture of unwarranted hospitality, had insisted on leading the group to the main attraction of the summer: the Shoton Festival.
"Sour Milk Festival?" Ino translated quizzically, recalling her Tibetan studies in her junior year.
"Yogurt," Sakura corrected. "The name has some historical significance, actually. In the past, monks were not allowed to leave their monasteries until the beginning of July, when locals would offer alms of yogurt. Nowadays, the festival is better known for its Tibetan opera and revealing of the tangka."
"You lost me at yogurt alms," Kiba moaned, rubbing his temples.
Sakura huffed. "Tangka is an enormous scroll painting of Buddha that the monks unroll at the start of the ceremony. And Tibetan opera is one of the most valued, historic arts in the world, and it might do you some spiritual good to watch it."
Kiba stiffened at the jab. "Yeah, of course. I'm going to keep my mind – uh, open? To all aspects of life." His face eased into a relaxed grin, more sure of himself. "That's right, interdependence, man!"
Before Sakura could berate Kiba for his textbook understanding of spirituality, the Tibetan man, who had been eyeing the mountains to the West, gave a sudden whoop of excitement and pointed to the sound of bugles in the distance.
"It's starting!" Sakura nearly shrieked, and hastily stuffed her camera and batteries in her traveler's bag.
Sasuke watched the group pack with barely concealed exasperation, eyebrows wrinkled in an unconscious scowl. Only six more days left of this spiritual shit. It won't kill me. It won't kill me, Sasuke chanted to himself unconvincingly. The Tibetan man glanced at Sasuke, and taking notice of his restlessness, approached him with a mischievous grin. Sasuke immediately relaxed his features and dropped his folded arms in a casual stance, regarding him warily. For good measure, he stepped back a few feet. The man turned and squatted, teasingly gesturing to his back with an offer of another ride.
Sasuke resisted the urge to punch Kiba's obscenely wide grin off his face.
Tendrils of mulberry smoke hung luminously in the night sky, preparation for the festival to come. The group walked up a path carved onto the side of the mountain, a white spiral scar that, from the ground, glowed eerily in the dying light.
"Can you believe how many people are here?" Ino exclaimed, hopping up and down excitedly to get a better view of the crowd shuffling up the narrow path in front of her.
"How do you still have so much energy?" Sakura moaned, tenderly rubbing her calves. "We just walked up at least five hills to get here, and we still have the mountain to climb!"
"Agreed. I'm beat," Kiba yawned, and slapped Sasuke on the back. "How ya doing? You haven't said a word the entire night."
"Fine, thank you," Sasuke replied coolly, although mentally agreeing with Kiba. They hadn't eaten since lunch, and his stomach was kicking up furious nerve impulses to his brain, demanding a warm meal.
As they continued up the traffic-clogged mountain path at an agonizingly slow crawl, conversation gradually died down and gave way to silent observation. The drone of murmured prayers hung thickly about the crowd, and Sasuke felt the sound coagulate around him in the cooling Tibetan air. He felt as if he were walking through jellied amber.
"Look around you," Sakura murmured behind him in awe.
A stretch of deep red and orange – the robes of hundreds of Buddhist monks - pooled thinly around the group as they moved in a solid mass up the narrow, rocky path. The bodies moving in imperfect synchronization somehow unnerved Sasuke, and a brief bout of claustrophobia clawed at every nerve in his body. He suddenly had an absurd itch to throw himself off the path and into the foggy depths of the valleys below. Too close, much too close. Too much noise…
And the mass froze, the intonations ceased, and the lanterns flickered out. There was an unnatural, albeit reverent silence that hung in the air, and in the absence of noise Sasuke heard the hum of life and energy that pulsated above and within the multitude of people, as if the crowd fed a human powerhouse of indescribable proportions.
Then Buddha appeared, and the crowd erupted.
The tangka, held high by hundreds of monks down the slope of the mountain, slowly gained an orange hue as lanterns were lit around the portrait, glowing red pinpoints of light gracing the Buddha's beatific face. White hada flew into the air, knotted scarves like doves alighting on the enormous picture.
"A ma!" A child squealed and waddled past Sasuke's group, bundled in thick layers of polished green and blue. Hundreds of Tibetans were dressed in what seemed to be the equivalent of their Sunday best, smoothing their ornate shawls and twirling the heavy strings of red and orange beads around their necks. Some sat on mats, pouring steaming butter tea from giant wooden urns. Young monks greeted their families in merry reunion, beaming while their parents fondly bickered with them and fussed over their robes. The little girl bundled in blue found her mother, dressed in matching colors, and clambered into her arms with a loving kiss on the woman's sun-bronzed nose.
Sasuke felt himself walking deeper into the heart of the crowd, as if hands were insistently pulling him forward. He vaguely heard Kiba call, "Sasuke, where are you going?" He continued to walk, the sounds around him folding into themselves and yielding to the brilliant outpour of color that crashed into Sasuke's body with a numbing impact. It was far too much, and Sasuke despairingly wished that he were safely home in the monochrome slab of lifeless city known as Beijing, where the sky wasn't littered with stars, the people weren't so alive. Oh, he wanted to drown himself. Not in water, but in this cursed color.
Then a tightly clasping hand gripped his arm, anchoring him back into reality.
"Don't get lost," the person said, his words strangely accented. Sasuke turned and met sharp, scathingly blue eyes. As sounds shifted back into focus, he heard a monk reciting scripture in the distance. Buddha swam in his peripheral vision, a looming, vibrant figure towering over the two.
"I'm not," he scowled, and without knowing it, Sasuke's heart kicked into life.