Sorry for the delay again, I recently got a job which has meant I've been flat out working and writing this bit has taken some time. Also I reached a great dilemma in which I wanted to include another idea, which would have started another tedious subplot which would have gotten annoying so in the end I cut it. I might write it out as a spin off fanfiction from what I've done if I can be bothered :P
Anyway, sorry again, if there are any grammatical errors, I think I got all of them.
And, of course, I don't own Kim Possible in any way and my writing is merely for pleasure.

Part 7

The jungle was thick and blinding, he was struggling to make his way through the sea of leaves and branches without doing too much damage to the wildlife. Travelling upward made the journey more difficult as he climbed through a tangle of branches, working his way further up. It was evident that no one had taken this road for quite some time.

Ron felt satisfied to be back in Japan. After everything that had happened on his last trip to America, he was sure he would not be going back for quite some time. However, after years of travelling from one end of the globe to the other in a matter of hours, America felt all the more close, especially with the events of the past forty-eight hours which refused to be passed from his troubled mind. He had left his weapons back at Yamanouchi, this journey was meant to be travelled alone and defenceless. The real battle was in his mind, the state of which strongly reflected by the surrounding landscape.

He pulled himself through a hole between two thick distorted branches to find a small platform dug into the mountain. Though it had been years since this path was travelled, this area seemed to have been built by Ninjas in seclusion, carving a special place for retreat. It is an ancient practice of Ninjas, when their minds are troubled, to travel into the mountains and seclude themselves – to meditate; connecting better with the earth and their spirit. But such did little to soothe the pain of Ron Stoppable.

Ron sat on the edge of the mountain and looked at the view before him – a spectacular cascade of mountains and jungle, overlapping down into the small valley below, ornamented with life and colour. It was beautiful, peaceful. It was everything a Ninja had been taught to possess in their mind and soul. Of course this was not at all the case for Ron. Though he so desperately wished to find himself at ease again, especially as he was now a fully qualified Ninja, though he had fought through the jungle and now sat observing what must have been one of the most peaceful sights in the whole world, he could not mirror it.

Kim's actions still had their lingering effects. The pain of his fighting through the impossible jungle had merely dimmed the great pain she had caused – not destroyed it. The primary remedies for trauma practiced by Ninjas were seclusion and meditation; but Ron knew he couldn't win this battle like this. So much remained unanswered: Why had she done it? Did he still love her? But even more difficult to decipher; did she still love him?

He heard the sharp click of a twig snapping pierce the quiet from the jungle path through which he had trenched. He leapt up and held his hands ready. "Jodan!" He belted in Japanese, warning any attacker that might be present he was armed and ready. The leaves rustled as a timid but familiar voice responded "Ron! It's me," as Yori pushed herself through the leaves. Ron held out his hand and helped her onto the platform. She carried no weapons and was dressed in the same black attire as Ron.

"I apologise for disturbing your solitude," she said, closing her eyes solemnly and bowing. He had forgotten how fluent her English had become; she spoke very formally and enunciated beautifully. It calmed him; something he had been unable to achieve alone. "It's alright, Yori," he replied, "I could probably use some company," then added with realisation "oh, unless you wanted to meditate here."

"Oh no!" Yori assured him, "no, Ron, that is quite alright."

She was silent for a time before she lifted her head, breathed and said "I followed you here. I am sorry, it was wrong and I will leave now if you wish."
"No!" Ron protested, "no, please, stay. It's okay, I don't mind. Your company would really help me. I was going to meditate but, now that you're here," he trailed off as he sat down on the little wooden floor and gazed out at the view again.

"Ron," she objected, "if you are troubled, you will feel much better if you meditate. Close off your problems and allow yourself to breathe."

He sighed, "they're not the sort of problems you can simply ignore for a while. I don't want to think about them but I have to." He looked at her; her gentle face was glowing with concern for him. The sympathy in her gaze was warming and he felt less lonely. "May I talk to you Yori? I know it is not the usual practice and I should probably speak about what's happened to Sensei first–"

"What's happened?" She interrupted, "and doesn't Sensei know why you're here?"

"He will hear me when I am ready to speak," Ron told her, "but I must first soothe this initial pain."

He had known Yori since high school and he trusted her enough (although he had known Kim since pre-K and he was unsure how much he trusted her now). Yori's presence was comforting, and though Ninjas never spoke of their troubles to avoid the evils of rumour and gossip, he knew he had to reveal his burden to someone.

"Sit." He gestured beside him and she came and sat cross-legged, giving her full warming attention. "I'm sorry," he told her, "I just really need to talk to someone."

He breathed. "Kim and I have separated."

He stated it simply, he knew it was enough. Yori understood wholeheartedly and said nothing. There was nothing to say.

It's always the simplest, fewest words that have the greatest impact. Not only his words to Yori, but more so Shego's profession. Everything had become such a blur to Ron now, he couldn't make head or tail of anything, all because of a handful of words – Kim cheated, they separated.

His head was aching with misery and confusion, even their spacious position on the mountain could not relieve him from a burning sense of claustrophobia. He couldn't work anything. He hardly knew what was right and wrong anymore. He felt it wasn't his fault but he didn't have the capacity to blame Kim. Maybe he just hadn't been a good boyfriend. He was the one who had moved to Japan after all! He flinched suddenly as Yori placed a hand on his shoulder, although her touch soon became quite comforting.

"I'm sorry," she said. They were silent again for a time.

"Please don't tell me to meditate now," he said finally. Yori shook her head comfortingly in response. "I know I should," Ron continued, "but the moment I stop, it all comes flooding back." He gave a bitter smile. "I know, as ninjas, this isn't right, but right now what I really need is a good distraction. And not like the write-a-sad-poem-and-get-over-it-type shit. God help me, I would love, I would give to just be able to cry!" Ron looked at Yori sternly who was listening attentively, her eyes warm with concern. "But ninjas are tough. We just suck it up and deal with it."

Yori's eyes widened at this last part and she shook her head hurriedly. "Stoppable-son," she addressed him formally and seriously. Ron hadn't noticed when she had stopped calling him that. It must have been years at least. "Have you honestly learnt that little from your time here? If there is anything a ninja does with internal pain, it is not 'suck it up'!" She placed a tender hand on his cheek and spoke close, "we release our pain in a healthy way. And the best way to do that, believe it or not, is through tears."

Ron listened closely, not noticing the ease her touch gave him. She smiled and shook her head. "That, you call 'sucking it up', is not a ninja practice but a boyish practice." She giggled, "your shame in crying is not from being a ninja but your fat boyish ego."

She laughed and for the first time in days, Ron felt himself grinning; not from irony but from honesty – from happiness. And as they laughed together, Ron felt something else – not the anger he had been trying to dissolve for the past few days, nor his woe. Release – in the form of salty droplets leaking gently from his eyes and singeing his cheeks.

Yori smiled at his accomplishment and threw her arms around his shoulders. Ron breathed for the first time in a while with ease, "thank you," he whispered. She pulled away from him, but just enough for them to exchange small, tender smiles and to lean in gently and find each other's lips.

A small gesture, in the heat of a moment, from neither head nor heart – from impulse.

As any moment goes, it was over almost as it had begun; only its existence was now undeniable. They looked at each other, observing the abrupt change in the other's complexion. No more warm laughter, no more relieving tears, just stone cold souls of guilt and regret. What had they done?

"Yori, I–"

"Don't." She cut him off, her eyes now flooding, but not with the same joyous relief his had earlier. "I don't know what happened, between you and Kim," she began, "and it is not my business. We both know I have always liked you, but not as much as I loved seeing how happy she made you." She hung her head, her pride more wounded now than his. "I am sorry to intrude, especially as I do not know the whole story, but, please–" She looked up at him, sternly, "while I only knew her through you, she became my friend too."

Ron had expected his former frustration to come flooding back, but all he could feel now was sympathy for Yori. I've definitely hurt someone now.

"I'm sorry, Yori," he told her. "I had no right. I was just hurt and angry and–" he paused, choosing his words wisely. "It was natural, but that doesn't make it right. You've always been here for me and I thank you for your friendly advice and company, especially now. It has helped me to find the release I came up here to find." He looked back out at the spectacular view, to take it in fully just one more time. "But it's time," he said, "I must now speak to Sensei."

He got up abruptly and swiftly made his way back to the opening in the trees.

"Ron!" Yori called out. He stopped in his tracks but couldn't bring himself to turn around. "Would you think me a horrible person," she began, "if I thanked you for kissing me?"

He looked back at her, sitting so innocently and looking at him so vulnerably. After a small pause, he decided. "No, Yori. In fact I want to thank you. It's really nice to have someone I can trust, even if they're just a friend."

She smiled. They both knew, whatever happened from then on, it may well be the only time they share something so intimate. Even if Ron could admit to having come feelings to return, he knew neither of them would ever consider a relationship, especially now, under his current circumstances.

Then, finally, Yori got up, faced Ron and bowed. It was a very traditional sign of respect in Japan, one the two friends had neglected for some time with Ron's American customs. Ron smiled back and respectfully returned the gesture.

"Go," she told him. He smiled and turned away, climbing down through the trees again to trudge his way back, no longer seeking comfort but guidance.