Chapter 2 – Hand Me Down
Jack awoke in confusion and pain. He heard quiet voices around him, but he couldn't make out any words. He lay still and didn't open his eyes, worrying that movement would hurt him worse. For a moment, he couldn't remember what had happened. The bed he was lying on certainly wasn't the mat in his little room. The noises around him began to make more sense and he recognized the voices of the four monks. They were whispering, probably trying not to wake him up.
"…it was stupid, don't even try to defend him, Omi. I can't believe we just sat there and let Chase beat him up this badly," Kimiko said.
Suddenly, the fight with Chase burst into his head. The whole thing was a jumble of painful blows. His wounds seemed to hurt even worse as he remembered receiving them. The monk's voices became clearer as his grogginess subsided, but their words made him wish he were still asleep.
"I agree," said Clay. "So what if he wanted to prove himself? We all knew he wouldn't stand a chance 'gainst Chase Young. Rai, why'd you let him do this?"
"I don't know guys, I just felt like it was a good idea to give him a chance," Raimundo said. "He really wanted to…"
"He did not want to and you know it, Rai," said Kimiko. "He was clearly terrified. He was just trying to look tough. Boys are so stupid."
Jack felt his cheeks go hot and hoped they wouldn't notice. Had his fear been that obvious? Gee, thanks for the confidence, guys, he thought. If they thought he was such a wimp then why did they let him fight?
"Oh, yeah, like you haven't done the exact same thing, Kimiko." Jack imagined Raimundo rolling his eyes as he spoke. "When it comes to trying to look tough, we all know you're the queen."
Clay interrupted Kimiko's protests. "Well, regardless, we shouldn't have let Jack try and take Chase on all by himself. He shouldn't even be fighting Chase at all."
"We honored his request," Omi said. "You all speak as though he died, but he is fine. He fought very well. I am proud to have such a brave warrior as my apprentice." Jack couldn't tell if Omi was telling the truth or not. Sometimes the kid could be a pretty good liar, but Jack appreciated the support regardless. And he was fine. Other than the broken arm, his wounds weren't that much than ones the monks themselves had given to him in the past.
"Oh, sure, maybe to warriors like us wounds like this are no big deal," said Clay, "but to Jack they probably seem awful."
Jack had to restrain himself from jumping up and protesting. Had the monks just forgotten all their old fights? Jack wondered if they even had the ability to think badly of themselves. Kimiko agreed with Clay, but Omi again stood up for Jack.
"Kimiko, Clay, do not insult our friend. He is a great warrior…or at least, he will be one day…under my guidance. I am certain wounds like this will not discourage him."
"Yeah, right," Kimiko said. "He'll probably be packing his bags as soon as he wakes up." Jack was slightly surprised to hear that she didn't sound happy about this idea.
"He will not," Raimundo said. "I agree with Omi. Jack's had worse than this from us before, guys. Don't forget we used to beat him up on a regular basis."
The others were silent for a moment, and Jack could imagine them avoiding each other's eyes awkwardly. He appreciated Raimundo bringing their history up but still felt resentful at their lack of belief in him. Not that they really had any reason to believe in him. Not like he'd done much for them in the time he'd been staying at the temple.
Jack felt his frustration and embarrassment grow. He'd wanted to prove that he wasn't completely useless. He'd really been trying hard to learn as much as they could teach him during his time at the temple. He'd even changed his sleeping schedule, which, for him, was a big deal. Even though Master Fung wouldn't teach him, claiming he wasn't trustworthy, the four young monks had done their best to take him on as their trainee.
Jack heard a door opening followed by the monks' master's voice. "Jack Spicer's wounds are not going to heal faster through your force of will, young monks. Your chores are sitting untouched. I'm going to have to ask you to get back both them and your training."
He listened to the sound of the monks' retreating footsteps. After he heard the door close he let out a sigh and reached up, pushing his hair out of his eyes as he opened them.
Master Fung was sitting in a chair by his bedside. Jack yelped and jumped in surprise. Then he winced at the pain in his arm.
"Jack Spicer, you are awake," said Master Fung. Jack eyed the look of surprise on the old monk's face. Fung cultivated an outward appearance of complete calm, and Jack rarely saw him surprised.
"Uh," said Jack, "yeah. Guess so." Jack bit back a quip about the old man's ability to point out the obvious. No need to make him angry.
Fung had harbored an obvious dislike of Jack from the day the young monks had brought him to the temple. Jack hardly blamed him, though. The last time the monks had let him into the temple he'd betrayed them and stolen from them after just one day of training.
"Have you been awake for long?"
You mean, was I listening to the monks talk about what a looser I am? Jack thought. "No, just woke up," he said. Trying to sound convincing, he added, "have I been out long?"
"Not long," said Fung. Jack couldn't tell if the monk was fooled by the lie. He noticed that Fung had brought in a tea set. The old man poured tea into the two cups and handed one to Jack. Though he didn't like tea much, Jack took the cup and gave Fung an awkward smile.
"We have much to discuss, Spicer." He lifted his teacup to his mouth and took a sip.
"Do we?" Jack couldn't fathom what the monk would want to talk to him about.
"The monks informed me that you fought well against Chase Young."
Jack wasn't able to hold back a bark of laughter. "They must think you're a real sucker. Hope you don't believe everything they tell you."
He cringed under Fung's reproachful glare. "Their lies are fairly easy to spot. I believe them when they tell me the truth. Which, surprisingly, has been more often as of late."
"Uh, well, no offense," Jack said, "and not to call them liars or anything, but I definitely didn't…I mean…I lost. Horribly. Didn't even get a hit in."
"As I heard the story you did get a hit in. A fairly good one."
"Yeah, well…didn't make a difference in the end, did it?" Jack glared down at his tea. When he caught sight of his reflection he immediately wished he hadn't. His face looked horrible.
"Remember, child, there are no lessons in victory, but a…"
"A thousand in defeat, I know." Jack rolled his eyes. He'd heard the proverb from Omi a thousand times. Generally right after he'd lost to the tiny monk in a spar.
"Then let us begin to review."
"Review what? What are you talking about?"
"Review your lesson, of course." Fung smiled for the first time as he sipped his tea.
"Let's see." Jack didn't bother to mask the irritated sarcasm in his voice. "I learned that Chase can't take a joke and the others really care more about honor than my life."
"Well, that's two out of the way. Although I'm not so sure about the second one. After all, they did save you, did they not?"
"I was being sarcastic."
"But you did learn these things, did you not?"
Jack looked at Fung for a moment while the old monk sipped his tea. Talking to any of the older monks always frustrated Jack. Why couldn't they ever just get to the point?
Not for the first time, Jack wondered what, exactly, he was doing at the temple. Monk life required way more patience than Jack believed he was capable of exercising. Omi assured him that he would adjust. Raimundo and the others had explained how difficult they'd found monk life at first. But Jack still couldn't believe he'd ever be able to sit and meditate for hours like they did every day.
Of course, Jack was grateful to the monks for inviting him to live with them. He just couldn't figure out why they'd done it. He was nothing but a burden on them, and he'd just proven that by loosing them a shen-gong-wu.
He glanced back down at his tea and noticed how weird his face looked without the eyeliner. He'd kept all of his old things (the heli-bot, his goggles, and some of his tools) when he'd moved into the temple, but he'd been a little afraid to use them. He felt completely out of place as it was in this group, no need to stand out any more than he already did.
Jack thought back to three months ago when he'd received five unexpected visitors to his empty lair. His parents had decided he should go to Japan as a transfer student and wouldn't hear any objections. They said he'd love it, that he needed to meet some new people, that it was for the best.
He packed up his entire lair, but they told him he'd be living in a dorm and wouldn't have room for so much stuff. He hadn't known what to do. He'd sat out three wu-alerts so that he wouldn't loose his two remaining shen-gong-wu.
The monks had shown up two days before he was scheduled to leave.
"Oh, hey guys. What's up?" He raised a hand at them as he wondered how best to defend himself. His Jackbots were all disassembled.
"Where've ya been, Jack?" Raimundo's voice echoed against the walls of the empty basement. "We worried that maybe you'd blown yourself up or something. Figured we'd better come check on you. What's going on here?"
"Oh, yeah. Um…guess my parents think I'm too much trouble to keep around." He closed the box in front of him and taped it up. "I'm moving to Japan. Transfer student…"
"But, what about ruling the world and all that?" Raimundo raised an eyebrow as the others exchanged glances.
Jack opened his mouth to laugh but was interrupted.
"Oh yes! Jack Spicer has finally seen the error of his evil ways! He has decided to go away for rigorous training in far-off lands." Omi did a few flips before continuing his rant. "Then he will return to us and join our quest to collect the shen-gong-wu and defeat evil!"
"Yeah, in your dreams, cue ball. I'm still going to…" Jack's voice trailed off. What was he going to do? Even if he could somehow continue making Jackbots and meeting them for showdowns, he never won anymore anyway. Everyone, especially the monks, were growing stronger. He, on the other had, remained the same. Neither he nor his bots were a match for the monks. What was the point, really?
"Actually, Omi, I was thinking about just going away and living a normal life. Never trouble you guys again, never loose another showdown, never get the crap beaten out of me for your personal amusement…" The plan was starting to sound better and better.
"What?" The four monks spoke in unison.
"Really Jack? I can't believe this," Kimiko said.
"You're leaving, just like that? Seems like a pretty dull end to our relationship, partner," said Clay.
"Yeah, Spicer," said Raimundo, "what fun is the fight for good gonna be without your girly little scream to keep it interesting?"
"Oh, ha-ha, Raimundo. Isn't this exactly what you guys want? Me gone and never coming back? Out of your way? It's not exactly like you enjoy having me in your lives, right?"
The four monks exchanged glances, and Jack felt a strange twinge of happiness that they didn't answer right away. Maybe they were just trying to be nice for some reason, but he appreciated them not leaping for joy at his news. He'd expected them to.
Suddenly a shrill beeping noise filled the empty room. Jack looked down at his flashing watch as Dojo came sliding into the room.
"Guys, guys, a new wu just went active…"
"We know, Dojo," Raimundo said.
Jack suddenly remembered an old conversation he'd had with the monks. "Hey, guys, if you think you could spare this wu, why don't we all go out for that ice cream I promised that one time? My treat, remember?"
He was actually a little surprised they did remember. Kimiko, Clay, and Omi looked up at Raimundo, who answered after only a moment's hesitation.
"Well, we're supposed to make sure we get every shen-gong-wu…" Jack's heart sunk slightly, but Raimundo continued. "Why don't you come with us and we'll grab it on the way? Not like we'll have much competition, huh?"
Jack noticed the uneasy looks on Kimiko and Clay's faces, but Omi agreed wholeheartedly.
"All right, let's go, Spicer. Hope you can stomach a trip on Dojo." Raimundo grinned over his shoulder as they headed out of the lair. "He certainly takes some getting used to."
After hours of storytelling, reminiscing, and ice cream, they invited Jack back to the temple to stay the night. He accepted, of course. He was slightly in shock that he might have anything resembling friends. Even stranger was the fact that they were his sworn enemies.
Master Fung had not been at all happy when the monks had brought Jack home. He remained uncertain until Raimundo pulled him aside and spoke to him privately. After their conversation, Master Fung had left to set up a place for Jack to sleep.
As Jack spent the evening with the monks, he began to enjoy their company more and more. They really were a great group of people, when you weren't on their hit list. Kimiko's punches were friendly (though they still hurt), and Clay's southernisms were pleasant rather than threatening (though they were still pretty obnoxious). Omi was pretty much exactly the same (hyper, oblivious, and egotistical).
Raimundo laughed and joked with the rest of the group, but Jack could tell he was watching closely. He could almost feel Raimundo's sharp gaze whenever his back was turned on the monk.
It actually got a little annoying. Jack wondered why Raimundo had invited him over and convinced Master Fung to let him stay. The young monk was acting like he didn't trust Jack at all. Then Jack caught Raimundo looking at him and was surprised by the expression on his face. Far from mistrusting, Raimundo seemed to be examining him with interest. Excitement, even.
Raimundo had looked away, quickly masking his expression. Though Jack had no idea why Raimundo was looking at him like that, he quickly forgot about the odd moment as he enjoyed himself with the monks. He had more fun that night than he had in a long time. And the best part was that the monks seemed to have fun as well. They listened to his stories. They laughed at his jokes.
He remembered his watch reading four in the morning as they all fell asleep. When he was about to head home in the morning, he couldn't keep the tears from his eyes.
"Jack? What is wrong, my friend?" Omi said.
"Nothing, nothing…" Jack said. He sniffled as the monks crowded around. "It's just that I… Thanks so much guys. That was the best time I've ever had. Thanks for letting me stay and all."
Raimundo grinned as he reached out and grabbed Jack's shoulder. "Well if you had fun then how about joining us for a little more?"
Jack looked up, confused. Raimundo's smile widened as he looked over at Master Fung. The old monk walked over and held out a red monk's robe to Raimundo. The wind monk took them and bowed deeply to his master. Then he turned back to Jack.
"How about it, Jack? Wanna give monk life another chance? It's not really that bad, once you get used to the food. And the sleep schedule. And the…"
Omi cut him off as he leapt into the conversation. "Yes! Jack Spicer, please join us here at the temple! I have always known you would be a great warrior on the side of good!"
"Yeah," said Kimiko. "For real this time, no funny business."
"Aw, no way Rai," said Clay. "You got Master Fung to agree to this?"
"He said he won't teach you himself, not until you've proven you deserve it. But you're welcome to stay. We can teach you, if you want. Master Fung said he could talk it over with your parents."
"I…uh… Raimundo, why…?"
"Let's just say I have my reasons," said Raimundo. "And you'll find out about them when I'm ready to tell you."
The other monks eyed him suspiciously, but Jack didn't care at the moment what Raimundo's motivations were. He could barely contain his excitement.
"I'd love to stay, as long as you guys will have me." He reached out and took the robe from Raimundo. It was a real set this time, not just Omi's hand-me-down. He'd never felt quite like this before. The monks wanted him to stay. He was fairly sure no one had ever wanted him before. The others chattered together as they led him off to his new room.
"Jack? Jack Spicer?" Master Fung's voice pulled him out of his memories.
"Eh? Oh, sorry. I was just…thinking."
"Indeed. Spicer, why do you think we let you stay here with us?"
Jack blinked in surprise. Was Fung a mind reader or something? "Uh, well…I'm not sure, actually. Raimundo asked you to?"
"Yes, that, but why do you think he asked me to allow this? I am not an easy person to persuade, Spicer. Raimundo was quite insistent." He placed his empty cup down and leaned back in his chair.
"I don't have any idea. He acted like it was a big secret, maybe you should ask him."
Fung smiled again. "Raimundo, as you know, has ascended to the level of Sho-Ku warrior. This makes him the leader of the four, but he is also now only one step below me as far as rank is concerned. He has grown the most out of my students by far, both in strength and wisdom."
Jack wanted to point out that Raimundo obviously wasn't that wise. He'd stood by and done nothing while Jack lost him a shen-gong-wu.
"I trust his judgment," Fung said. "He pointed out to me a few of your qualities I had not yet seen. In fact, he said he believes you have great potential as a warrior."
Jack frowned. He'd thought Omi was the only blindly optimistic monk of their little group. "Maybe you should go and talk to him about it again. After my fight with Chase he may have changed his mind…"
"Children do not grow into warriors overnight, Spicer. You must have patience. Chase Young is over fifteen hundred years old. Did you expect to defeat him after only three months of training?"
Jack didn't answer. He knew it would sound stupid to admit that even though he hadn't expected to beat Chase, he had wanted to very badly.
"You must allow me to apologize, Jack. I distrusted and had little faith in you. I worried that you might betray us again, but you have proven me wrong."
Again, Jack was surprised. Master Fung was apologizing to him? "Uh, no problem. I mean, I wouldn't have trusted me either."
"Raimundo and the others have taught you well. You have shown much improvement during your short time here at the temple. My Sho-Ku warrior was wise to see such potential in you.
"I now wish to ask you a most serious question. You should not answer right away; the matter will require much meditation."
Jack leaned forward, anxious.
"I would like to train you, as I trained the others. You will begin as you are now, in your current rank and will move up from here. I must warn you, however, that you are not a chosen one like Kimiko, Clay, Omi, and Raimundo. You will have no element to master and therefore no power to help you along the way.
"This path will not be an easy one. Should you choose to train here, it will take your entire life. The others understand and have agreed to this commitment. They have given up their families and friends for the battle of good versus evil." He paused, allowing his words to sink in. "Such is the life of a Xiaolin warrior."
Jack remained silent, unsure of how to react. Of course he wanted to become stronger, but give up his whole life? Become a monk? He was already sick of monk life, and he'd only been living at the temple for three months.
Plus, the whole good-versus-evil thing had never attracted him much. Except when he was back on the evil side. Even though he was committed to improving his abilities, and committed to staying with the only people who'd ever acted like he could be their friend, he couldn't care less about the fight for good and all that.
Master Fung rose to his feet, took the tea set, and headed out of the room. "Meditate on these things, young one. I am certain you will make a wise decision."
Wuya sat on the edge of the fountain in Chase's lair, trailing her fingers through the water. She felt as trapped and helpless as when she was back in her ghostly form. Living with Chase and acting as his pawn was stifling.
Wuya hated that she was forced to pretend to be his pet. She was the greatest Heylin witch who had ever lived. Who was Chase to control her? To treat her like she was inferior?
But there was nothing she could do at the moment. Wuya didn't have her Heylin abilities to help her get what she wanted. She would just have to find another way to check on Jack.
Her implausible concern for the boy frustrated her even further. What was the boy to her? Nothing. He had never meant a thing to her. He was just a pawn, a tool she used to gain strength. Yet she couldn't stop her mind from wandering to him. Curiosity plagued her and she was beginning to feel more nervous than she had in a while.
Wuya found herself plotting, for the hundredth time, a potential plan to escape from Chase's lair and visit the temple. Chase was in his room, nursing his bruised ego and probably training. He was always training. She would have a hard time sneaking away from the house while he was there. And even worse, he now had his crow watching over the temple non-stop. Talk about overreacting, Wuya thought. Is poor Chase so afraid of a little competition?
She gazed down at her distorted reflection in the water. Wuya was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize what she was seeing for a few moments. Under the water on the floor of the fountain were a few loose pebbles. Chase's 'house' was just a huge cave, so gravel was pretty much everywhere. These stones, however, seemed to have minds of their own. They were rolling around in a little circle, chasing her circling fingertips.
Wuya pulled her hand out and leaned closer, examining the rocks. But they stopped moving as soon as her hand left the water. She frowned and reached in, pulling out one of the larger pebbles. It wasn't any bigger than a pea. Wuya couldn't see anything special about the small rock. She dropped it back into the water with the others and watched them. They didn't move.
"What is this?" Wuya's words were quiet, meant only for her own benefit. She'd had the habit of talking to herself for as long as she could remember. She dipped her hand back into the water and twirled her fingers around again, trying to coax the rocks to move.
After a few minutes she gave up. She headed to her room, her thoughts wandering back to Jack Spicer. She stifled a yawn as she closed the door.
"I should really get out more," she said. "I'm getting lazy hanging around this desolate hole all the time." She flopped forward onto her bed and shut her eyes.
Wuya wrapped her arms tightly around herself, trying to keep warm. She leaned against the brick wall as the rain plastered her hair against her face and neck. She looked down at her clothes, wondering how the sleeveless shirt and thin pants were going to keep her warm during the winter. The cold rains had become more and more frequent; she knew that any day she'd start waking up in her alley covered in frost. Then the ground would be covered in snow.
A little girl had no chance of surviving on the streets during the winter, and Wuya knew she'd need to figure something out soon. At the moment, however, she was worried only about dinner. Hunger tore at her like some sort of angry beast. She forced the feeling back and focused on the potential meal before her.
The older man across the street had finished his meal at the outdoor food stand and was paying the cook. Wuya kept her eyes on him. His smile seemed to cheer the cook and the other customers at the stand. They gave him wholehearted goodbyes, as though they were all old friends, though Wuya knew they had just met. His white monk's robes told her that he would be providing her next meal. Monks were always kind and giving, especially to street children. Even Wuya, with her odd appearance, could often coax a little bit of food out of them.
He stepped out from under the awning and opened an umbrella. Wuya ran across the street and into the man's path. When he looked down she didn't say anything, but held a hand out, knowing her expression and clothes would tell the man what she wanted. Wuya rarely spoke; she had learned very quickly that the best way to loose a meal was to open her mouth.
The monk blinked down at her. Wuya was surprised to see the emotions that flickered across his face. Instead of the typical revulsion or fear, his eyes showed worry. Even sympathy.
Wuya was used to people treating her differently than the other street children. Most of them could get enough food by begging, but normal people rarely gave anything to Wuya. At first she'd thought their dislike was for her odd facial tattoos, but Wuya swiftly realized that there was something else about her they didn't like. She had no idea why, but people always shied away from her. Adults looked at her with disgust; children looked at her with fear.
This monk was different, however. He smiled as he kneeled down and held the umbrella over her. Wuya felt warmth rush through her as he reached up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She found herself blushing as his eyes shone into hers. His gaze felt powerful and reminded Wuya of the sun. She was struck by the strange fear that she might hurt her eyes if she looked at him for too long, so she dropped her gaze to the ground. He ran his fingers along the marks on her face.
"Poor child." His voice was quiet, but Wuya had no trouble hearing him over the rain. "You have been touched by great evil, it seems."
Wuya didn't know what he was talking about. She worried that he might be mistaking her for someone else, but she said nothing. His touch was as warm as his eyes. Wuya couldn't remember the last time anyone had touched her. Even when people gave her food they always dropped it into her hands; the thought of brushing hands with her seemed to repulse them.
"What is your name, young one?"
Fear struck Wuya suddenly. She didn't want to upset him by not answering, but she knew her voice would send him away. Even more than her touch, Wuya's voice seemed to terrify those who heard it. She looked back up at him and shook her head.
His smile widened. "I know you can speak. It is all right. You have nothing to fear. Speak to me, child."
Wuya's lips quivered as she opened her mouth and whispered her name. She worried that he couldn't hear and would ask her to repeat herself, but he reached up and rubbed her head.
"Might I make you an offer, Wuya? Come with me and live at my temple. The other monks and I can give you a nice home." He laughed at her shocked expression.
"Ours is not a luxurious life, to be sure, but it is a happy one. I even have a son about your age who is in need of a friend. I'm sure the two of you will find companionship in each other."
His voice seemed to fade out as Wuya stared at him, completely stunned. She didn't catch much of his explanation about his temple and his son. This man wanted her to live with him? No one had ever wanted her before, not that she could remember.
Wuya assumed, of course, that her parents must have wanted her at some point. She knew that she couldn't possibly have survived so long without someone's help. But whoever had helped her through infancy certainly wasn't around anymore.
"So, what do you say, little one? Are you in need of a family?"
When he held his hand out, Wuya took it without hesitation.
When Wuya opened her eyes she felt a strange, lingering sensation of warmth on her cheek and in the palm of her hand. She sat up and eyed her reflection in the mirror.
"What," she said to the mirror, "was that?" The dream had certainly felt like a memory, but Wuya couldn't remember her childhood. She'd somehow lost all memory of her past. Everything before her rise to Heylin power was completely gone. Wuya knew that Heylin abilities often required some sort of sacrifice; she had always assumed that the loss of her past was the price she had paid for her powers.
But then where had that dream come from? The dream didn't fade away; instead, Wuya could think back on it and remember more details as she went over the scene in her mind. She didn't recognize the monk, but his clothes told her that he had been the master of a temple.
She started going over his words in her head. Her younger self hadn't caught much of what the old monk was saying, and wouldn't have recognized the significance even if she had, but one sentence kept replaying in Wuya's memory.
My son is a sweet boy, the kindest child you'll ever meet. His name is Dashi, and he will treat you well…
Wuya couldn't help but laugh aloud at the absurdity of the monk's words. Dashi, a kind boy? Dashi, treat her well? It was because of Dashi's trickery that she had been locked in a tiny box for fifteen hundred years. Remembering him brought an ugly look to her face. She clenched her fists and tried to push the dream from her thoughts. No use dwelling on the past. There were much more important issues to deal with at the moment.