Author's note: Hey guys! This is the seventh chapter.
This was, by far, the most awkward meal of Chiro's life. As he was eating, he began to notice Skeleton King's mannerisms. He expected him to eat mechanically as if the food was mere sustenance to him, yet he was digging in with gusto. Mandarin, on the other hand, was chewing small bites, almost annoyed at the food. Chiro could not understand it. Who could be irked because of chocolate souffle?
There were several gruesome paintings on the walls, all completing the macabre look Skeleton King must have been going for. The art, even if it depicted horrendous battle scenes, with war and famine, and life ceasing to exist, was also painted in such an...appealing way, that it made one feel uncertain. For example, Chiro knew the lady from the picture was about to get murdered or worse, but she was painted so beautifully, looking almost like Aphrodite. So while he hated the events that were unfolding before his very eyes, he could agree that the painter must have been talented, if slightly sick-minded.
And now Chiro couldn't help but wonder, was Skeleton King an art connoisseur? Did he use to be buddies or almost pleasant company with the painter? Was Skeleton King himself the painter?!
"Ah, you are looking at the paintings, little thorn. Tell me, what do think of them?" Skeleton King asked slyly while Mandarin began to shift his attention towards Chiro.
"They're even uglier than your face," Chiro replied nonchalantly while Mandarin began to shake his head at him, a small smile on his visage.
Skeleton King stood up suddenly, prowled towards Chiro like a panther, and lifted his chin up "The impertinence will cost you a meal next time boy, tread carefully."
"Why so personal? Are you the painter?" Chiro couldn't help but ask.
Skeleton King's eyes widened before he began to cackle.
"No, boy, I am not. The painter, however, served his purpose. Though perhaps you were right, they are quite hideous, too aesthetically pleasant," Skeleton King grumbled while looking at the paintings.
"What do you mean he served his purpose?" Chiro asked worried, already knowing the answer.
"Ah, I cut his life short, as Shakespeare used to say. Though as it is I did him a favor, Chiro, all life is nothing but a tragic mistake and he so dearly wished to embody his art..."
"You monster!" Chiro shouted.
"A pathetic response from a powerless child, my master. Don't pay the boy any mind," Mandarin replied, rushing to Chiro's side.
Was Mandarin defending him? Could this day get any weirder?
'If I said something so bad that the orange jerk is willing to help me then I must really be in trouble,' Chiro thought while biting his lip.
To everyone's surprise, Skeleton King merely laughed and said "Ah Chiro, you must stop with the insults, young one, for they merely flatter me."
"Of course," Chiro muttered while rolling his eyes.
"However you are still being disrespectful..." Skeleton King considered before a fast as lightning SLAP could be heard around the room.
Chiro had just been slapped. By Skeleton King. Admittedly this was by far less painful than what he experienced on his other missions daily but his eyes stung and his cheek reddened, and he could not help but let the tears flow.
It seemed like he was not about to cry in peace, for the bag of bones began to take his cheek in his hand and almost soothingly to murmur "Shhh, you are too much too brave to give up, aren't you, little thorn?" Then, to Chiro's astonishment, he produced ice, out of thin air, and began applying it to Chiro's cheek. It felt marginally better.
Chiro sat there tense and scared. He took a look at Mandarin and noticed that he was as incredulous as Chiro was himself. Since when does Skeleton King give any comfort to his enemies? Since never, that's when! 'It must be a trick,' Chiro concluded.
"Sit back down!" Skeleton King ordered and Mandarin began to take a seat, hurriedly, like a mindless sheep. Chiro reluctantly did the same, although much slower. The boy could see it in Skeleton King's eyes, he enjoyed the mindless obedience.
They resumed the conversation.
"Chiro, how would you like it if Mandarin were to train you?" Skeleton King asked, red wine eyes glittering.
"Train me? In what?" Chiro asked apprehensively.
"Mostly fighting techniques and tactics, my hairless monkey. Though a lesson in manners wouldn't be remiss," Mandarin said.
"How are you going to teach what you have no clue about?" Chiro cheeked, causing Skeleton King to smile.
"Of course, if you would rather I teach you..."Skeleton King drawled.
"No! Mandarin sounds like an adequate teacher!" Chiro said rapidly, tasting bile.
"Adequate? That is high praise indeed from you, Chiro," Mandarin grinned.
"Enjoy it while you can," Chiro grumbled.
"It would also be about time you learn something different than punching mindless formless, boy. A second language perhaps and playing an instrument," Skeleton King murmured.
"What?!"Chiro asked.
"I would not have you go through life mindlessly without making new experiences. You are much too important for that,"
"But-but..."
"But what, boy? You thought I was going to lock you up in your room all day long to rot and threaten you with funny threats when you disobey. Like defenestration for example."
Chiro could not help but think of Skeleton King, intimidating him to eat his veggies or he will throw him out of the window.
"No, I want to mold you, for you see, you are my child now. Mine!" Skeleton King hissed possessively.
'Some stellar father you are,' Chiro thought sarcastically.
"Learning a new language or playing an instrument has long-term benefits also, Chiro," Mandarin said, after seeing Chiro about to open his mouth and say something sarcastic.
"Oh, yeah? Name one," Chiro challenged.
"They can help your memory," Mandarin said irritated.
"Name another one!" Chiro shouted.
"They help with keeping mouthy brats occupied long enough so I can take a nap," Skeleton King replied mirthfully.
Mandarin and Skeleton King were looking at him expectantly, and seeing no other alternatives, he crossed his arms and said "Fine."
End of the seventh chapter.