Sunlight shone off of the honeyed brown locks of Yun's hair as he familiarized himself once again with the meditation steps of Tai Chi. In the barren yard with its chain link fence filled to the brim along the sides with tumbleweeds, he tried taking his mind elsewhere. He needed to find balance and evenness within himself. With this body…
The brisk, cold wind blew down from the mountainous heights in front of him, stinging the exposed skin of his arms and face. It felt invigorating with the sun finally shining down unhindered by clouds. The warmth was mild but enough to lend strength to his limbs.
Breathing deeply and evenly, the former Roo moved slowly as he learned the motions of his new body. It was smaller, balanced higher up without the counterbalance of a tail and not as strong. But the steps brought familiarity and soon he was in quick motion, bare foot in the dry dirt. Spinning up and kicking in the air at invisible enemies, he stumbled a bit but immediately corrected into a headlong roll.
To his disappointment, he could not leap high at all anymore. Perhaps seven feet or so but that was it. Shooing away the nagging annoyance, the warrior practiced several blocks and jabs with fluid grace. A small grin came to him as the muscle memory honed with each posture. Yes, he was still very much himself.
He had not needed to practice his art for a long while now. And though that might be good since there was no situation requiring fighting, he missed the feeling of being in motion and the natural high that sparring gave. Yun was a warrior in his heart and life felt askew without it. He needed the meditation in movement to find peace with himself.
From inside, Chenoa watched her husband in silent admiration by the window. Holding a hot mug of coffee gingerly in her hands, she stood only in a t-shirt and panties, dark hair a mess about her face. Upon waking, she had found Yun gone and came out to see him in the yard, meditating. Deciding not to disturb him, she busied herself making coffee for when he came in. She was glad that he liked it since she had missed it rather badly.
A sour taste came to her mouth as she thought of all the things Yun must miss. All of Tao, probably. She definitely missed it, despite the small conveniences here that were absent before. This place had been one of suffering and loneliness, bereft of beauty. If there was a way to reverse this banishment, she wished she knew of it. A fear had wriggled into her heart that perhaps this horrible world would be the death of her husband.
Banishing the thought forcefully, Chenoa turned her gaze from the warrior's swift acrobatics outside to the early morning dark of the living room. For a moment, she gazed upon the rumpled, old couch in the corner and felt a fierce blush upon her. Not even six hours ago, she had been bent over it with Yun over and within her, his harsh, hot breath on the back of her neck. It warmed her and brought a silly grin to her lips. She would never be able to look at that couch the same or at least without smiling.
The front door clicked and swung open to her side and Yun entered, breathing rapidly but deeply. He looked exhilarated and lively, eyes bright and skin flushed from the good exertion. Spotting her after a brief sweep by the window, a brilliant smile lifted him and creased those crow's feet wrinkles by his temples. As he rushed to her side, Chenoa almost felt energy radiating from him before his warm arms wrapped her up.
"Well, you are in a good mood!" she laughed as he picked her off the ground and squeezed. She couldn't quite reciprocate fully since there was a coffee mug in her hand but she tried. He hummed in response before releasing her back to the floor. Leaning back, he pressed a kiss to her forehead before going to the kitchen.
"I feel better today than I have recently," Yun admitted as he made himself a cup of his new favorite drink. Chenoa followed him to lean against the door frame and watch, happy that he was feeling good. It had been a while. "I think that I missed practicing."
"It was a big part of your life un-" she stopped midsentence, suddenly feeling awkward saying what she was about to say. His motions stilled as he went to pour sugar into the black liquid. Almost immediately he continued, his smile a little less bright.
"It was. I hope to continue here."
Chenoa bit her lower lip and looked down at her own mug, saddened that she brought the conversation to this direction.
"Maybe…maybe…" she paused as a thought came to her. "Maybe you could teach it. I am sure there are people here who could appreciate your fighting."
Yun turned to set his back against the counter, sipping the hot drink. He considered her proposition and found himself wary. He did not want Tai Chi Chuan to fall into the wrong kind of hands and from what he had seen as of yet, it would. He did not trust this world and the people in it; he did not know them. Any form of martial art or defense has to be taught in the right way to the right recipient. Otherwise, people like Komodo could rise. After a moment, he shook his head in denial.
"I do not believe that to be wise. The skill can be abused and people can get hurt."
"It can be. Anything can be abused though. But that is why you teach the way of Tao too. Not everyone here is bad. Kids can still be taught good things," Chenoa argued in what she hoped was a logical manner. He seemed to consider that so she pressed forward. "It would be something for the better and it needs that here."
For a long moment, Yun thought about the prospect, having disciples amongst strangers who knew nothing of his home and its values. Then he considered how his mate had changed in her time in Tao, how brave she had become and full of kindness. Perhaps he could make a difference here and share what was apparently a good and wholesome way of life in comparison to the glum reality here.
Yun's dark earth eyes turned to regard her in contemplation and surprise. He was somewhat amazed that he did not think of the possibility. Perhaps he was losing touch with benevolence and giving way to distrust. For several moments he only looked at her in thought before smiling slightly.
"You are much wiser than I, love," he conceded before setting his drink down. Opening his arms for her again, he gave her a hug, inhaling her smell deeply. "And perhaps more benevolent. Do you really think that I can share this with others here?"
"I think that we can try."
...
Chenoa frowned at a box of cereal before putting it in the shopping cart. Stuff sure was getting expensive nowadays. Sighing at the mound of boxes, cans and fresh fruit, she glanced down the aisle to where her husband stood. He was avidly staring at a row of packaged tea, trying to figure out what they were. He could not read the language printed on the boxes and it was quickly growing apparent that the skill was needed in this society.
Yun didn't like the store with its pale, unnatural lights and smells. When he first entered the store a few weeks earlier, he could smell something rotten. A comingling of wilting vegetables and the raw scent of blood assaulted his nose from the deli. Chenoa had tried to shy away from the area that she knew had a butcher shop and packages of meat displayed like candies. But Yun had wandered over there, horrified at the sight. In Tao, no meat was ever eaten and the showcase of red, vibrant steaks was as disgusting as seeing a head on a platter.
Sick still at the explanation Chenoa tried to sadly supply, he now immediately retreated into the stale, busy aisles on the other side of the store when they entered. She had a feeling that the first encounter with the meat-eating culture of her world would be a bad one. Before entering the first time she had tried to explain that there might be things that would confuse or upset him. She hadn't been able to think of too many specifics at the time.
Now, watching him down the aisle with a few other uncomfortable patrons, Chenoa sighed and went to find cheese, leaving him to study. An older couple and a lone woman were perusing around him, all seeming similarly startled and wary of him. Despite being shorter than his previous height, he still dwarfed most other people and the obvious muscle to his build was unusual. The fact that his clothes were one or two sized too small didn't help as they clung almost ridiculously. No one reacted badly though they were suspicious and curious.
Finding the colder, lit up shelves filled with a plethora of cheeses, she stopped and appraised what was offered. Unemployment, which had been reinstated a couple weeks or so earlier, would be enough for food but only for maybe half a year so she needed to watch how much they used. Work was rather hard to come by here and it might be longer than that for her to find a job.
Behind her she heard a cart rattle up and then stop abruptly. She thought that the other person was just grabbing an item nearby but the sensation of being stared at prickled her skin. Feeling annoyed and uncomfortable, Chenoa looked up to find a face she had not wanted to see as long as she lived gazing at her with an expression of bewildered rage.
Matt stood there behind his cart, filled only with snacks and booze, fists clenched white in anger over the plastic handle. The same dirty blonde hair stood thrashed and his infuriated blue eyes shined coldly from deeply scowling brows. A rough beard marred his somewhat weak jaw as it clenched. He looked the same as he had when she had left that fateful night, scruffy and hung over from something. No fear came to Chenoa though she did feel sick to her stomach at seeing him.
For a tense moment, they just stared at one another, one in anger and the other in wary indifference. The muscles in his jaw shifted tightly before he spoke.
"So…the bitch isn't dead," Matt stated icily, a deep hatred and seething in his rough voice. It used to be a voice that seduced her with its whiskey edge. But now, it filled her with an iron, hard belly full of resentment and disgust.
"Nope, not dead. Finally living actually," she replied just as crisply while grabbing a random container of cheese. Immediately, she took her leave, looking for other patrons as she about-faced with the cart. She did not want to be alone with the volatile man. When they had been together, he had not restrained the urge to hit her in public. And he looked dangerous with fury.
She could hear him following behind, not attempting to hide it. Annoyed, she turned around and stopped, giving him a steely glare. "Can I help you?"
Matt stopped as well and gave her a disbelieving, furious look. He almost looked murderous, as if he was going to grab one of the bottles from his cart and beat her face in with the bottom until it was nothing but a bloody pulp.
"Can you help me?! Yes, you can answer some fucking questions and help me! You disappear for almost a fucking year and you have nothing to say?" he demanded quite loudly. Someone passing by with their own cart gave them a funny stare before darting down an aisle and away. Slightly embarrassed by his volume, Chenoa sighed sharply and shook her head.
"There is absolutely nothing I need to say to you. Now leave me alone," with that she went to walk away down the nearest aisle. There was no reason to speak with him as far as she was concerned. He had had time to come to his own conclusions long before this.
Not even making it a few feet, she could feel her skin do that strange prickle it always did before something bad happened, that sensation that her body associated with the calm before pain. Her spine was seizing up the moment his hand grabbed her upper arm roughly and pulled her around.
A sudden fear gripped her as well at his touch, making her heart stop and muscles tense. She remembered the time he had put her through their bathroom door while arguing. She remembered hearing the wood splinter, feeling the jagged wood scraping her sides, lying on the floor and staring up at the dingy ceiling in agony. Her body remembered all of the angry bruises and the pain he had inflicted and it was scared of more. But she was no longer the same woman inside and she had no reason to stand for it now.
As Matt swung her around furiously, Chenoa's free hand came out to whip him full force and open handed across the face. He had not been prepared for her to strike out. She never had before. The slap echoed loudly in the store and the sting in her palm felt absolutely marvelous. God, she had wanted to do that for a long time.
Matt was not stunned for long by the blow and did not relinquish his grip, instead tightening it into a vice grip. He was, after all, a fair brawler in many of the bars in Reno. Rough cheek glowing red from the slap, he gave her a glare that almost equaled Lafor's and tightened his grip on her arm harshly. He looked wild and insane with his rage.
"Stupid whore!" he bellowed viciously. Before she could react again, he struck out as he had only in extreme cases before and always at home and nailed her in the cheek with a closed, hard fist.
A riotous combustion of color, light and pain filled her vision at the blow and she staggered to the floor and up against a shelf, released by her attacker. He punched hard and sure, completely stunning her with a throbbing explosion of pain. She felt almost blinded, the world looked shaky and unfocused. Surely, this was not really happening, a voice in her head argued. Surely, you are not lying on the grocery store floor, punched out.
There was a gasp from someone else, drawing her attention, and a sudden rush of feet.
Yun had heard the livid exclamation and the woman's gasp of utter shock a few feet away as he looked for Chenoa nearby. The store was depressing and made him want to leave. It felt as though he was walking through some of the horrible commercials on that television he had given up on. Concerned by the old woman's expression of amazed disbelief, he came up to see what she had seen. A sight that rendered him still with rage stopped him dead.
A stranger stood over his wife, fist clenched and shoulders heaving in anger at her crumpled form. Chenoa lay up against the shelf amongst disheveled potato chip packages, her eyes mostly closed and mouth slack. The left side of her face looked puffy and reddened, quickly darkening into a bruise. This man had hit his wife and looked as if he was going to do more.
Vision turned almost red with rage, Yun felt himself fall on the inside to a level of anger that he did not know he possessed. He wanted to maim that man, whoever he was, for what he had done. There was no kindness in him now as he approached.
Filled with a murderous intent that he had never felt before, Yun rushed forward as other patrons gathered around curiously. Coming up behind him, he found himself to be well over a foot taller than his opponent. One large hard closed over Matt's shoulder and he bent the man backwards quickly. Bringing his knee up, he shoved it deep into his side and ribcage. He felt a dark satisfaction when he felt a bone crack somewhere in his chest.
A pained, startled yelp of 'what the fuck, man?!'escaped the other as he tried twisting around to his attacker. Yun let him turn, more than happy with hitting him in the front as well. Matt hugged his side, wincing and gasping while fighting off a store attendant. He tried to hold him back, yelling about police but Matt was too infuriated and blinded by pain to be stopped.
He glared at the other man, a murderous gleam in his cold blue eyes as he panted. He looked wild in a way that was inhuman and it filled Yun with loathing. When Matt came to attack, he was more than glad to oblige his opponent.
Yun dodged a sloppy punch easily, leaning back out of its range before stepping in and grabbing his wrist. Twisting it quickly, he forced his arm into an unnatural angle and slammed the palm of his free hand into the elbow. The hit made a cracking sound as his arm partially dislocated. As the man cried out in pain and squirmed, Yun yanked it right back in, leaving him in agony. He had been tempted to fully break the arm but he was at least vaguely aware of possible repercussions from local law enforcement.
"Why did you attack my wife?" Yun barked sharply as he held him still, close to his face. Matt stared at him with disbelieving, enraged ice eyes before baring his teeth at him. He smelled like smoke and liquors.
"Hey, fuck you, man! Who do you think you-" his tirade was stopped by another brutal twist to his sore and damaged arm. But there were no more comprehensible words from him.
Disgusted and letting go, Yun let the other man fall to the floor, writhing, before stepping over him to his wife. He was not going to waste time speaking to the now harmless idiot. If he stayed near him, there would be more damage done to him. What had been inflicted was nowhere near what he deserved.
There was quite a crowd now, including the store manager who was shouting about calling the cops, whatever those were. He ignored them to kneel next to Chenoa and grasp her face as gently as he could. It was hard to be soft with such anger coursing through him. She looked dazed and there was a faint glaze over her eyes. Yun prayed that he had not hit her near the still tender skull fracture.
"He punched that poor girl! I saw the whole thing!" the old woman from before was gossiping loudly, irritating the s still deadly Yun. He wanted to break every bone in that man's body. He did not care who he was but no other person had inspired such a hatred in the warrior. But his concern for Chenoa outweighed his desire to brutally punish the assailant.
Easily picking her up off the floor, Yun was relieved to feel her try to hold on weakly, apparently somewhat coherent. Matt still convulsed on the floor, shouting out in rage and pain randomly and clutching his bruised but whole arm. Coldly stepping around him, Yun clutched Chenoa to his chest and went to leave the store. Patrons parted in front of him easily, apparently more than a little respectful of what he could do. The manager hovered behind, fretting.
"Sir! Sir, you have to wait! The police are coming and you need to be here!" he insisted, voice high in alarm at the unexpected disturbance. Yun stopped enough to look down steadily with burning eyes at the portly man in his green apron before nodding back towards Matt sharply.
"I need to get my mate home. He will be fine," he informed him firmly before turning once more to leave. He had given the manager a look that offered no argument and the crowd simply watched him approach the automatic doors and depart, carrying his injured wife.
"Yun?" Chenoa mumbled confusedly from his grasp as he briskly walked to her old truck in the cold afternoon air. Thankfully the parking lot was empty of the noisome cars at the moment. In the distance, he could hear those eerie sirens wailing like pained dogs. "Where's Matt?"
A snarl came over Yun's features as he marched determinedly. So that was the wicked, abusive man that had scarred his love so. He should have done more than dislocate his arm and crack a rib.
"I left him on the floor of the store with a broken bone and a warning," he replied in a low growl as they reached the truck. Setting her down on her feet momentarily, Yun took initiative and dug through her coat pockets for the car keys. Chenoa still looked about dazedly, as if she was not wholly sure that she was awake and in reality. The side of her face throbbed painfully and the sun hurt her eyes. The side of her head stung sharply as well. For a moment, she had forgotten that the split was still healing near there.
The jingling of keys as he unlocked the door and opened it for her drew her attention. She frowned slightly, despite how much it hurt. That was the passenger seat.
"Yun? You can't drive," she pointed out dumbly, waving her arm at the open door in denial. The sounds of sirens were drawing neat. He pressed his lips together patiently before nodding and indicating that she sat.
"Neither can you. I've watched you drive before."
Chenoa couldn't find an answer to that so she shrugged and clumsily sat down. She knew that he was fully capable and intelligent enough to figure out the mechanisms. He had watched her drive multiple times now. Her brain pounded out a rhythm with every movement and the muscles burned along her jaw as she moved. Heaving a sigh, she let him close the door for her as she buckled up.
"Stupid, fucking Matt," she sighed in the privacy the truck offered as her husband circled around to the other side. Why did she have to run into him of all people? She was not surprised in the least that he had struck her. He had done it before when they were together in public and they always left before the cops arrived. He had never punched her so damn hard in public though.
Things still felt a bit jumbled and foggy to her as Yun got into the truck silently and repeated the motions he had observed her do before. With a little mumbled guidance, they were on their way out of the area and heading home.