Well, here goes nothing...
After a slight hesitation, Omi raised the bowl to his lips, preparing to take in the soup.
Everything was going according to plan.
Suddenly, with the bowl merely inches from his lips, Omi felt his heart stop dead in his chest as a figure appeared in the doorway.
"Chase Young!" he exclaimed, jolting back and allowing some of the soup to spill over the edge of the bowl, the droplets burning straight through the floor.
There he stood, the last person he could have hoped to be caught with-even more petrifying than his friends-the one he loved more than anything else. At that moment, when their eyes locked, Omi could see something shatter inside Chase, and he too felt something shatter within himself as a result.
Chase leaned against the doorway, panting, trying to say something, anything, but his voice wouldn't seem to comply; he was completely frozen in disbelief. "Omi..." he finally managed, his voice barely above a strained whisper, "What...what are you...?"
"Chase..." Omi stared at him in remorse, "I was-"
"I thought I specifically told you not to drink the Lao Mang Long soup..." he hissed sternly.
Omi narrowed his eyes, suddenly feeling defiant. "Since when do I take orders from you?" he snapped. "Besides, it's the only way you'll ever show me any affection, or even acknowledge me for that matter."
Chase clenched his teeth, doing his best to suppress what he really wanted to say: Foolish monk, I only acted the way I did to protect you, because I love you! "Young monk..." he growled, "I order you to stop this at once!"
"Try and stop me!" Omi clenched his eyes shut, preparing to drink the soup once more.
Chase flinched. No...I will not allow him to defy me like this!
Omi's eyes shot wide open as the cool rim of the bowl was suddenly replaced by a pair of warm lips, and the bowl was sent crashing to the floor, soup and glass shards spewing everywhere. At first, he was in complete shock, but his eyelids gradually fluttered closed as he leaned into the kiss.
Chase continued to caress Omi's lips with his own as the two of them pressed their bodies closer together, both savoring the warmth that they were radiating. Omi reached up and began to run his fingers through Chase's long, silky hair, his heart pulsating rapidly in his chest.
At that moment, he couldn't have felt any more content.
"Well," Hannibal grinned, "it looks like our plan is finally complete. I can't wait to see what we created."
"Indeed!" the ghost exclaimed, following eagerly behind him.
The two rushed down the halls until they reached the large area that led into the kitchen. Hannibal hopped over to the doorway, peering in slightly, and his expression immediately turned sour.
"Is he in there?" the ghost questioned.
"Yeah," Hannibal said with a sneer, "they're in there alright."
"They?!" Wuya floated over to Hannibal's side, and her eyes grew wide at what she saw.
There they were-Omi and Chase, lips locked, bodies intertwined. And there was the soup-what was left of it-spilled all over the floor.
"No!" the ghost shrieked.
"So, what I've heard is true: Chase Young is in love," The bean smirked. "Who would have ever thought it possible?"
"It's sickening," Wuya stated bluntly.
"True," Hannibal nodded, "but it's just what we need."
"What are you talking about?"
"'Cause, the more he falls head over heels for the little cheese ball, the more he'll need him," Hannibal grinned deviously, "which gives him that much more reason to let him swing over to the dark side."
"Oh please, he cares too much about his precious Omi to let anything happen to him," the ghost grumbled, rolling her eyes.
"He'll come around; just gotta give it some time, you see," Hannibal turned and hopped onto the window sill.
"Where are you going?" she snarled.
The bean turned over his shoulder. "Don't worry about it; just know that you probably won't see me for awhile. But when you do..." he chuckled, "...trust me, you'll know." And with that, he hopped onto his bird and soared off into the night.
The ghost blinked in surprise. Try as she may, she would never be able to figure that bean out. She floated over to the doorway and took one last peek at the two lovers entwined, fighting back the warm grin that was threatening to creep across her face. She watched as the two finally pulled apart, and she let out a small giggle before fleeing from the scene.
"Chase..." Omi stared up at the immortal as their lips finally parted, caressing his cheek with his tiny hand.
Chase leaned away, blushing. "Don't think this means I am in any way returning your feelings; I was merely trying to calm you down, so you wouldn't do anything irrational."
"And that was the only way you could think of?"
The blush on Chase's face grew ten-fold. "I-I panicked, okay?!"
"I see," Omi said, grinning smugly. It was unusual to see Chase so flustered; he kind of liked it. He was suddenly overcome by a warm feeling, but the feeling slowly dissipated as he stared down at his shoes, completely drenched, reminding him of the true situation at hand.
Chase noticed Omi's faltering expression and frowned. "Omi, little one..." he gently placed a hand under the monk's chin and tilted it upwards, "You must not allow your feelings for me to become too overwhelming; it will only make it harder when the time comes for us to part for good."
"I understand, but it's...not that."
Chase raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"I..." Omi lowered his head, "...I can't believe I almost betrayed them like that."
"Yes, what you did was very unwise, young monk; you nearly gave up everything for your own selfish desires. You're no better than that foolish wind dragon."
"Raimundo..." Omi growled. "But, he has changed since then, and me...I have not. And that is why he is the leader, not me..." Omi sighed. "Perhaps I was not meant to be a Xiaolin dragon after all..."
"No, do not speak that way; the Xiaolin side is where you belong. You're beginning to think irrationally-from a lack of sleep, most likely. You need to get home and rest."
"But...I don't want to leave you, Chase..." Omi clung tighter to the immortal.
"I understand, but it is for the best."
Chase had always believed that if you kept telling a lie, everyone would start to believe it, until eventually, it became true. If only he hadn't become less convinced every time he said it.
"No..." Omi muttered, "How can that be?"
It appeared Omi wasn't too convinced either.
Chase let out a deep sigh. "Young monk..." he placed a hand on Omi's head, "Sometimes, in order to maintain balance, we must make sacrifices, even if that means giving up the things we love most..." His words were cut short by the sound of Omi's laughter. "What?!"
"Sorry," Omi said, chortling, "You are starting to sound like Master Fung-" Omi felt a pang in his heart at the mention of his master, and his laughter slowly ceased. He sighed remorsefully. "I really must go apologize..."
"Indeed you must, little one."
Omi turned to the doorway, then paused. He looked over at Chase with grieving eyes. "Will...I ever see you again?"
"...I don't know," was all he could muster.
Omi's expression dropped. "Well, if this is goodbye..." The monk walked over to Chase, and after much hesitation, gave him a quick, but meaningful peck on the cheek before turning and bolting out the door.
Chase slowly brought a hand to his cheek, feeling the warmth that was left behind by Omi's lips.
Suddenly, Wuya floated in out of nowhere. "Aww," she gushed, "what an adorable couple you two would make!"
Chase let out a growl, his cheeks burning. "Someone really wants to go back in their puzzle box, don't they?"
"Ha!" Wuya scoffed. "You don't even know how to open it! You had Jack help you, remember?"
"Don't remind me," he snarled. "Where is Spicer? I haven't heard anything from him since the showdown."
"Who knows? Probably off building something useless again. Besides, it's only been two days."
The immortal brought a hand to his forehead. "It feels like it's been weeks..."
"Tell me about it!" the ghost exclaimed.
"And yet, so much has happened..." his gaze shifted down to the floor, "...more than I ever could have hoped."
"Golden Tiger Claws!"
In a flash, Omi reappeared in the bedroom hallway, puzzled by the set of empty mats. "Where could they be?" He veered around the corner, only to be caught off guard by the sight of his friends scattered helplessly around the room, trapped in the clutches of various Shen Gong Wu. The monk let out a gasp. "My friends! What has happened to you?" Omi immediately rushed to aid his fellow monks.
Raimundo fell to the floor as Omi undid the webs he was tangled in. He leapt to his feet, ready to strike if needed.
"Raimundo!" Omi stumbled back. "What are you doing?"
"Careful guys, this could be another fake!"
Suddenly, Omi came to a realization: this whole mess was the work of his shadow clone. Wow, I did not know that he...I would go that far. He sighed heavily. "No, it is really me."
"Hmm," Raimundo reached out hesitantly and tapped Omi on the shoulder, immediately jerking his hand away with the expectation that it would go right through him, but much to his surprise, he actually felt it. "Omi?" Raimundo's expression slowly turned bitter, and he gave the monk a hard shove. "What's the matter with you?! Why'd you run off like that?"
"Yeah," Kimiko muttered, "we were really worried about you."
Omi lowered his head shamefully, "I...I cannot tell you."
"Well, why in tarnation not?" Clay inquired.
"Because, if I did, you would never look at me the same way again."
The monks exchanged worried glances.
"Hey..." Raimundo took a closer look at Omi. "Your shoes-they're totally soiled. And," he sniffed the monk, "you smell rank, dude!"
Omi gulped.
"Yeah," Clay added, "Come to think of it, it does have a familiar scent to it-sorta like that time Dojo fell on the barbecue."
"But how can that be?" Kimiko raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why would Omi smell like...barbecued dragon?"
"The only no good ombre I know that would do that is..."
"...Chase Young," Raimundo finished with a scowl.
Omi felt a cold sweat forming on his face. They've figured it out! And if they piece it together with my shoes... he shuddered, I am a dead piece of beef!
"I just don't understand this thing you've got going on with Chase. He's one of the baddest dudes out there-pure evil incarnate, if you will-and you...you're just the opposite: innocent, kind, loyal, and, well..." Raimundo cocked his head to the side, "...good."
"Yeah," Clay shook his head, "it's like tryin' to breed a sewer rat with a stallion-it just don't work."
"Chase Young is not a sewer rat!" Omi snapped venomously. "And he is not completely evil; just as I..." he lowered his head, "...am not completely good."
"Hey now," Clay protested, "Now why do you say that?"
"Because, when I went to visit Chase, I...I almost..."
"Almost what?"
The monks leaned in curiously.
"...never mind," Omi yawned. "I am most tired; I think I will go to bed."
Everyone's eyes were fixated on Omi as he entered his room and settled down onto his mat.
As the saying goes, what they do not know...will not hurt them. The monk rolled over, soon drifting off to sleep.
Early the next morning, the monks gathered out on the training field.
Master Fung paced back and forth, examining the group carefully. "Where's Omi?"
"Still asleep," Raimundo stated bluntly.
"Is that so?" The old master raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, probably dreaming about Chase too," he added with an eye roll. "I heard him saying his name all night in his sleep, and when I walked in there this morning, he was hugging his pillow with this big, mushy grin on his face."
Clay scratched his head. "I feel like we missed something big time..."