A/N: I'm at my mom's office right now with nothing to do, so I decided to write this. I myself have always been curious as to how that tattoo gets onto his back, so here's my version of what happened.

I'm usually a HoroRen writer so I couldn't help putting some interaction between the two, but I don't think there are any shounen-ai themes in here. If you use your imagination, though, maybe.

Oh, and before anyone gets all disgusted, no, Ren is not undergoing a gang rape.

Be sure to check out my other Ren-centric one-shot, "Demon Child." I seem to love torturing the poor guy.

I suppose that's it. As always, reviews are welcome and flames are ignored.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shaman King. -MeeLee

My Sacrifice

BEGIN

The sun is setting and it's time for everyone to go. We're all standing on the front porch, saying our goodbyes and till-we-meet-agains. I was never very good at doing that, so I stand aside a little bit, watching them impassively…well, not really impassively. I mean, come on, I'm human too—though I'll bet some people would beg to differ.

"Goodnight, Yoh. Goodnight, Anna," Lyserg says. He is always so polite, never leaving anyone out. "Goodnight, Horohoro. Goodnight, Manta. Goodnight, Ryu." He turns to me. "Goodnight, Ren."

I almost answer him.

"See you tomorrow, Lyserg," Horohoro says, grinning like the idiot that he is.

"If any of you is even a minute late, you'll regret it," Anna warns. I consider telling her that I won't be there tomorrow, but eventually I decide that it isn't worth it. What does she care? What does anyone care?

I turn away from them and head to my car. Getting in, I start the engine and glance briefly back at the house. Yoh is waving at me, but I simply throw him a dirty look before gunning the motor and screeching off down the street. I like driving fast. It helps me forget sometimes.

But it won't help me forget this. Not today. Involuntarily my mind drifts back to my small apartment and the letter sitting on the kitchen table. I received it yesterday in a neat, clean white envelope. The paper is one-hundred-percent cotton and embroidered with gold, and the message is short, handwritten in expensive ballpoint pen.

Master Ren, it is time for the renewal. You have 24 hours.

There is no signature, but it doesn't matter who wrote it because I already know where it's from. I pull up and get out of my car, not bothering to lock it as I jog up to my front door and push it open, entering my small apartment. I'll bet everyone else thinks that it's probably filled with expensive equipment and luxurious decorations, but it's actually pretty modest: a chair here, a table there, and nothing much else. When I moved out here, I figured I needed a change from the luxury of home.

I kick the door closed behind me, and there is the letter, sitting on the table as promised. I've read it dozens of times, even though I try not to. I mean, it's not like reading the letter over and over is going to change its contents. I'll still have to go, no matter how much I don't want to.

I throw my bag carelessly into the corner and head to my bedroom. It's not much to see either: a bed, a dresser, and a desk where I practice my calligraphy sometimes. Yes, I do calligraphy. A Tao must be well-rounded in all of the arts, not just weaponry.

Walking up to the dresser with its big revolving mirror, I slowly undo the buttons of my shirt and peel it off. As I turn to inspect the Tao emblem blazed on my back, Bason materializes beside me.

"How long has it been?" he asks.

"Almost five years," I answer, and pause before asking, "Is it really fading now?"

"I can't be sure," Bason answers. "But you must do this either way."

"Yes." I sigh. "Bason, I want you to stay here while I'm gone."

"Bocchama?"

"You heard me. Throw a party down at the graveyard, possess a few people—just don't follow me. And don't tell anyone."

There is a pause before my guardian ghost replies. "What if they ask?"

"Then lie." I put my shirt back on and head for the door. I briefly consider bringing my kwan dao and the Horaiken with me, but ultimately decide against it. They might think I'm trying to resist, which should actually be a natural reaction for any normal human being. But I've come to realize that I—and everyone else in the Tao family who undergoes this—am far from normal.

"Goodbye, Bason." I open the door and walk down to my car. Getting in, I allow a sigh to pass from my lips. It is the only resistance I give to this, and no one will even know. I turn the key in the ignition and head off to the airport.

Several hours later, I am home. Not general-China-home, but Tao-mansion-home. The dawn sunlight is just starting to grace the sky as I approach the huge manor gates. One of the guards sees me and approaches, bowing low before speaking. "Master Ren. We were afraid you wouldn't come."

"I'm not a coward," I answer. "Now open the gate."

"Of course." He does so, and I enter the magnificent courtyard that surrounds the mansion. It's very vast but I've never gotten lost, and so I arrive in the east wing within a matter of minutes. There are no guards at the door; none are needed because the people within are more than able to protect themselves. I was once one of those people.

I push open the massive double doors and enter, my footsteps echoing eerily on the marble floor. I walk down several broad hallways before reaching another set of doors, these made of thick stone. Pushing them open requires a bit of work but I manage it all the same. I've done it several times before anyway, even when I was not as strong as I am now.

The room inside is entirely dark; I've always wondered why but I've never asked. I think it's probably so that the operators don't have to see what's going on. The light from outside peeks through the doorcracks as I enter, so I am able to see the operators themselves. They are dressed in simple white suits with masks over their faces, probably to keep out the smell. I sniff tentatively, but the air is fresh. I am the first one today.

The head operator approaches me. I know his face, but I don't remember his name—it's been too long.

"Master Ren," he says as he bows. "I'm glad you're back."

"Of course you are," I answer sarcastically. As I speak, I glance to each of his comrades. I recognize some of them despite the fact that they're wearing masks—I have a thing for remembering people's eyes, for some reason. A few of them were present for my renewal five years ago, and they nod slightly as my gaze passes over them. I don't acknowledge them. They don't deserve it.

I turn back to the head operator. "What was your name again?" I don't care that I don't remember. Let him be offended; if he tries to do anything to me, I'll have him killed.

But he does not take offense. Bowing again, he answers me in a calm voice. "Lin Chun, Master Ren. I supervised your last renewal."

"I see." I straighten. "I trust you'll do the job the same way as the last time?"

"Of course, Master Ren," Chun answers. "The same way every time."

"All right." I slip my jacket off and toss it somewhere into the darkness. "Close the door and let's get this over with."

The operators move to obey. One of them pushes the stone doors shut behind me, bathing us all in darkness once again. As my eyes adjust to the blackness I see several of the operators approaching me, but I am not afraid and I allow them to remove my shirt, followed by my pants and my boxers until I am naked before them. I hear a sound to my left and turn to see the table being rolled in, followed shortly after by a cart. I know what is inside the cart already: it contains a bucket of hot coals and a large brand. A brand bent in the shape of the Tao emblem.

One of the operators takes me by the arm and leads me to the table. I don't need to be told what to do, and without hesitation I lie face-down on the table and allow them to tie my hands and feet down with leather straps. The cold air of the room plays on my bare back; I'd better enjoy it while I have the chance.

Another operator comes up to me, holding the silk bag. Another walks behind him, holding the short wooden rod, but I glare at him. "You know I don't need it," I say, and he instantly backs away. I know how frightening my golden eyes can be in the darkness when I am angry.

The man with the silk bag stands in front me. "Are you ready, Master Ren?" he asks.

"Yes." I really don't need this bag either, but for some reason I prefer to have it on. It's a dent on my pride that I can afford. As he slips the bag over my head and I am enveloped in even greater darkness, I remember to take a deep breath. I will hold it while they do it. It's the only way I can keep myself from screaming.

I've never screamed during the renewal, not even the first time, when I could not have been more than six years old. The real reason for the silk bag and the wooden rod is to muffle the screams of the victim, so really I don't need either. But I keep the bag. Again, I don't really know why.

I can smell the hot metal as someone shoves the brand into the bucket of coals. Though I can't see through the bag over my head, I know that the iron will turn from black to red to pink. I doubt it goes all the way to white; that would probably kill me.

And even this comes pretty close.

It is starting to get hot inside the bag. Sweat is forming on my forehead, but I am not afraid. I am never afraid. The thing about renewal is that the instant you show the slightest hint of fear or hesitation, you are deemed a coward and cast out of the Tao clan. That is why I am here today, and not with Yoh and the others. This is the sacrifice I make for my family.

From far away I hear a soft rattle as the brand is taken out of the bucket. Seconds later, the hot iron sinks into the skin of my back.

The pain is very real, like fire surging through every nerve in my body. I jerk involuntarily and almost cry out, but I remember at the last second to hold that breath. I will not scream. Despite the fact that my back feels like it's melting, I will not let myself appear to be weak.

The brand is removed, but that only intensifies the pain. To keep from screaming I bite my tongue and soon taste blood in my mouth. My pain needs an outlet and so tears begin streaming down my cheeks. Maybe that's why I use the bag.

It's excruciating and my entire body is trembling. I can hear the table squeaking beneath me as I spasm involuntarily with agony. Then there is a sting in my arm; I barely feel it because of the searing in my back, but it's there, and I feel relief wash over me despite the pain I am feeling. They have finally given me the sedative. They always have it on hand but they never give the injection until after the brand is removed—this is the tradition, to see if anyone writhes and screams excessively on the table. Those who do so are deemed unworthy of the Taos.

I begin to feel faint, as if my spirit is separating from my body. It's not, of course; it's just the sedative. The pain is fading too, and now is nothing more than a dull ache in the back of my head. I finally let out that sweet breath I'd been holding as my back becomes numb. The bag is removed from my head and I breathe the fresh air again—no, it's not fresh. There is the smell of burning flesh in the air, the smell I was looking for and did not find when I first entered. I was the first one today.

The straps binding my hands and feet are removed; I know there are probably bruises on the skin underneath, but I don't care. I'm too far gone from the sedative to care.

The table is moving now; I can feel the vibrations from far away. There is another set of doors on the opposite side of the room, and I am passing through them now. For a moment there is still the darkness, but then suddenly I am surrounded in light, white light so blinding that I close my eyes for a moment. While my eyes are thus shut, a new feeling comes to my back, but it is not pain. It is a cool, soothing feeling, and I know what is happening now.

I open my eyes and focus on the women in the room, dressed in neat qipaos. They surround me quietly, applying the ointments and the bandages. One of them separates from the rest of the group, comes up to me, and gently touches my face.

"You did well, Ren," Jun says, smiling softly down at me. "You did very well."

It is late afternoon and I feel like hell. As I drive down the small street, I can hardly keep my eyes on the road, constantly distracted by the aching pain from my back pressed against the driver's seat. The raw skin has been treated with sweet oils and tenderly bandaged, but it still hurts whenever I move. Even before I pull up before Yoh's house, I already know that they're going to hate me today even more than they usually do.

I park the car by the side of the road and step carefully out, trying to put as little pressure as possible on my injured back. Bason appears beside me, worry lining his features, but I wave him dismissively off as I trudge slowly up the doorsteps and ring the bell.

I hear several voices react to the sound of the doorbell before footsteps approach and the door opens. Yoh blinks when he sees me. "Ren?"

"Yeah, who else would it be?" I walk right past him and into the living room, where everyone else is waiting.

Horohoro is the first to notice my entrance. "Ren, where've you been?" he asks. I have to give him credit; he looks genuinely worried.

"Away," I answer. They don't need to know any more than that.

"You didn't help us clean the house," Anna says, anger glinting in her eyes. "I told you that you'll—"

"Regret it, yeah, I'm sure." The words are out before I'm even fully aware of them. I look up to see everyone staring at me in horror. No one talks back to Kyouyama Anna.

I turn to Anna. She is trembling and looks indeed ready to tear my head off. "Tao Ren," she says, her voice hard and cold as ice. "You are going to go out there right now and run two hundred laps around the town. If you're not back by nightfall—"

"Oh, just shut up." I figure since I've already dived in, I might as well go as deep as I possibly can. "I'm tired of listening to your orders." I straighten, and suddenly I find that I am disgusted with everyone, with everything. This always happens after renewal; I become absolutely impassive to what everyone else thinks. Of course, Yoh and the others don't know this; my last renewal was before I'd even met them.

I turn away from them and head out of the living room, back to the front door. As I push the door open and walk slowly down the steps, I look out at the sunset and sigh softly. I'll probably hang out at my apartment for a few days to let the whole thing boil over. Then maybe I'll head back and apologize to Anna, even though there'll be hell to pay before she accepts anything of the sort. But I'll just let that play out on its own.

I am just about to open my car door when I hear a voice. "Ren, wait!"

I look up, and there is Horohoro running down the steps toward me. He stops on the other side of the car, slightly out of breath. For a moment we only watch each other, before finally I grow impatient. "What do you want?"

It takes a moment before Horohoro answers. "Are you all right?" he asks.

I am mildly surprised by the question. It isn't that obvious, is it? "Of course I am," I answer. "Why shouldn't I be?"

"You look…different."

Well, he's more observant than I thought. Maybe I'm not as good at hiding the pain as I think I am. "It's none of your business," I snap.

When he replies, his voice is sad. "No," he whispers. "No, I guess it's not." Something in his voice makes me want to apologize; he seems to really care about me. But then my pride takes over and I only give him a cold glare.

"Never ask me again," I say in as hard a voice as I can muster. I get into my car and drive away, leaving him alone on the sidewalk. I really have no choice. I am a Tao, after all.

I arrive before my apartment within a few minutes. The sky isn't even dark yet but I am tired, and so I head straight to my bedroom. Once inside, I remove my shirt and climb carefully into bed, lying facedown on the mattress. I will not move for the rest of the night, even though I'll develop sores on my arms and legs. It's better than reopening the huge burn wound on my back.

I sigh softly, and suddenly I feel something warm in my eye. I blink and feel the warmth travel slowly down my cheek. It's a tear; I'm crying. I don't even know why, but I don't try to stop it. I'm alone now, so I can cry all I want. It doesn't matter anymore.

I turn and bury my face in the pillow, hoping it will muffle the sobs that are sure to come. I hate this, but I chose long ago, so I can blame no one but myself. This is my choice. This is my sacrifice.

FINI