Chapter Six: Peaches and Cream
After two long hours, Ren had finally extricated every single grain of rice from the carpet. He picked them off the curtains and the walls without too much difficulty, either, but it was the ceiling that caused his already sour mood to take a turn for the worse.
"Kisama!" Ren dumped the last bowl of rice into the trash can. "All that work and not a single edible grain of rice!" He threw his bowl and chopsticks in the sink and turned his ire toward the rice-steamer, still wet and covered with rice after the earlier fiasco.
"You!" The boy's eye twitched slightly in fury. "Look at you sitting there, mocking me with your very presence. I'll show you!"
"Bocchama!" Bason trailed after his master as the Chinese shaman stalked toward the rice-steamer. "What are you doing?"
Ren seemed to hear not a word of his mochirei's urgent question. Wrapping his arms around the huge pot, he took a running start toward the window and hurled it as far as he could.
"Ahahahahaha! Take that, you stupid piece of crap!" Ren laughed hysterically as he watched the rice-steamer sail through the air and land on the sidewalk, nearly striking an innocent pedestrian during its descent. "Go back to hell where you belong, demon!"
He continued to cackle as the rice-streamer bounced a few more times before rolling across the street and settling itself near a pile of garbage. The poor young man, who had nearly been killed by a falling kitchen appliance, looked upward, expecting to see some angry housewife throwing her husband's belongings out the window in a lover's spat. He couldn't have been more wrong. He was surprised to find a boy hanging precariously out of the second story window of the burned-out Chinese restaurant, cursing loudly.
"That's right!" Ren leaned further out the window and shook his fist in the air. "Technology is the devil! It is spawned from the filthy minds of these human cockroaches preying on the Earth! I will be rid of it all, when I become Shaman King! Do you hear me? I AM GOD! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
The poor young man and several passerby, not knowing exactly who the angry Chinese boy was aiming his curses toward, hunched their shoulders and hurried to their appointed destinations as fast as their legs would carry them.
After verbally venting his frustration, Ren leaned back and slammed the window closed, causing the glass to rattle in the frame. He breathed heavily through his nose, like an angered bull ready to charge at the slightest provocation. His sharply pointed cowlick twitched as well, like a living personification of his rage. He turned his eyes toward Bason, who merely hovered in place, staring. His mouth gaped open in utter shock.
"What are you gawking at?" Ren fixed him with a piercing glare, and yet the look didn't seem to faze his mochirei at all.
"B-b-bochama…" Bason said with fearful reverence, as if his master had committed some sort of sacrilege. "Miss Jun just bought that rice-streamer last week and you threw it out the window…"
"What…?" Ren asked slowly, realization beginning to pierce through the red fog of rage surrounding his brain. "What did you say?"
"You just destroyed Miss Jun's brand new rice-steamer. She will surely kill you now."
Ren's blank faced betrayed no emotion, save for the fact that his right eye was twitching uncontrollably.
"AAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"
Bason quickly fled under the couch as Ren continued to scream. Slowly, the spirit flame peeked his head out to watch as Ren fell to his knees, his anger spent, his stomach continuing to wail for sustenance. He bowed his head in defeat, his hands balled tightly into fists in his lap, tears stinging the back of his eyelids. He couldn't take it anymore. He was going to cry, despite his best efforts to hold back his angry tears.
"Kisama! Nothing is going right today! Damn technology! Damn mankind! Damn it all! Damn it all to hell! KIIIIIIIIIISSSSSSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMAAAAAA!!!!!!"
The boy collapsed face first onto the red carpet, his small body trembling with frustration. He pounded the floor with his fist and began to cry like a little child. He felt sick to his stomach, ashamed at his weakness. His father would surly punish him if he could see him now.
Bason slowly emerged from under the couch and watched as his master was reduced to that selfsame whimpering child that he had been ordered to protect and serve ten years ago. The spirit flame's heart ached to see his master so distraught, reminded of those times when Ren had been locked in the dungeon for misbehaving, his screams echoing throughout the entire manor. Bason had remained with him for the duration of his punishments during those frequent visits to purgatory. Ren would throw such violent tantrums that he often had to be chained to the wall to prevent his tiger-like fury from getting too out of hand. He would always submit, eventually; weak from hunger and shivering from the cold. The loyal mochirei couldn't bear to see him that way any longer.
He floated close to his master's side, silent; not knowing what to say. What could words possibly do to comfort his master now?
"Where are my servants? Where is my nee-san? Where is anybody?" Ren's body shuddered with a wracking sob. "Even the gods have forsaken me…"
I wish nee-san was here, Ren was reminded painfully of his older sister's smiling face. The thought of her was his only comfort, even during those times he was imprisoned in the Tao Manor's dungeon. How is it that one day can drag on like an eternity? Will evening never come?
"It is all right, bocchama…" Bason floated closer to his master's face.
"Go away, Bason!" He heard his master's muffled voice buried in the carpet. "Don't look at me! I don't want you to see me like this!"
Bason felt his heart begin to ache once more. He could remember hearing a young Ren speak those same words each time he was tossed into the dungeon and Bason would follow after him. Tao Ren was proud to a fault and refused to allow anyone, save for those rare moments with Bason and Jun, to see him in a moment of weakness. Even after being beaten and tortured, his body a patchwork of bruises and welts, Ren only ever allowed himself to weep in the cold darkness of the dungeon, alone. But he was never truly alone, for Bason was always with him. He remembered watching the tears slowly fall down Ren's bruised cheeks, unable to even wipe them away because his hands were chained above his head.
If only I were alive, bocchama, Bason thought as he stared at his master's wretched form curled on the floor. Then I could wipe away your tears. If only I weren't a ghost, I could hold you in my arms and comfort you as your father never would. All I can offer is my presence and my words, if only you would listen! How I envy Amidamaru and Yoh! I do not want to remain only a servant; I want to be your strength, your confidant, your friend… You close your heart to everyone, so you can no longer feel pain, but you can no longer feel joy, either. I can wait, though. What is eternity to a ghost? I will wait, until the day you will finally open your heart to me and let me in.
Bason could take it no longer. He whizzed into the kitchen, desperately wracking his brains for a way to cheer his master up. There just had to be something they missed; something they overlooked. He materialized through the cabinets, his ghostly body shedding enough light for him to see within the musty darkness. He searched, he knew not for what, but he hovered from one musty corner to the next trying to find something that would please his master.
Finally, upon reaching the furthest corner of the dark maze of cabinets, he found what he was looking for. He floated closer, thinking perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the label on the large can remained unchanged. Shouting with joy, thinking that this forgotten treasure was surely a gift from the gods, Bason materialized through the cabinets and whizzed toward his sobbing master.
"Bocchama!" The spirit flame could barely contain his excitement. "Look! Come see what I have found."
"I thought I told you to leave me alone!" Ren hunched up, hiccuping slightly.
"But bocchama. I have found food. And it's your favorite--"
"What?" Ren rose slowly to his knees, his cheeks stained with tears. "You found what?"
"Being a ghost, I cannot bring it to you, so come into the kitchen and see." Bason trembled with joy. His master would be so pleased with him for finding that forgotten can in the back of the pantry. Ren was already looking like his old self again.
Ren wiped his sleeve across his face and slowly got to his feet, following his mochirei into the kitchen once more. Bason hovered near on of the cabinets, saying, "It's in here! Hurry, I'll show you where it's at."
"This had better be good," Ren's customary arrogance was already starting to creep back into his voice once more. He opened the cabinet as Bason entered and guided him to the musty old corner at the back of the cabinet.
"Right here. This can, right over here." Bason's ghostly light illuminated the dark corner as Ren reached in and snatched the can out of the cabinet. Brushing away the thin layer of dust that had accumulated on the green label of the can, Ren's mouth opened wide in awe. Bason smiled to himself as Ren read the label to himself.
"This can't be… It couldn't… It's…" Ren could barely articulate his thoughts as a small smile played upon his lips.
"It is!" Bason floated near his master's shoulder, swelling with pride at making his master happy once more.
"PEACHES!" Ren leaped into the air, holding the can above his head like the Olympic torch. "Sweet, glorious golden fruit of the gods! I'm saved!"
"That's it, bocchama!" Bason cried with joy as he floated in circles around his master's head. Oh, what joyous times these were, to see Ren finally smile after all the pain and disappointment of the day.
"Now, how to open it," Ren flipped the can around in his hands, searching for a pull tab or something to use to open it. He frowned a little, not seeing any apparent way to get to the sweet peaches inside. He banged it on the counter a few times and looked it over, as if that might help somehow.
"No…" Ren's eyes widened a little in fear as he banged the can more furiously. He would not be thwarted again! "No, no, no, no, no! This can't be!" He slammed it down so hard that the Formica countertop actually chipped a little. "Damn you! Why gods? Why do you offer me your glorious fruit only to snatch it from my grasp once again?"
"Bocchama," Bason gazed into his master's golden eyes, once more on the verge of tears. "You could use that thing to open it."
"What thing?" Ren frowned once more, furious and starving.
"You know, that thing." He said with emphasis, as if that would help. "Over here." He hovered near a small white kitchen appliance plugged in near the wall.
"Oh, no you don't!" Ren gritted his teeth and pointed accusingly at his spirit companion. "You're not tricking me into using another one of those electric hell-spawn once more."
Actually, you're the one that got the rice-steamer out in the first place, Bason thought dejectedly, but he said out loud, "Bocchama, I've watched Miss Jun use this plenty of times. See, she puts the can under this serrated wheel and presses this button over here. It makes this loud whirring sound, and then the can spins around and the lid comes off."
"Bason, are you making this up?" Ren cocked an eyebrow at him in disbelief.
"Of course not, bocchama!" The red spirit flame stared teary-eyed at him, hurt that his master would accuse him of lying. "Try it and see!"
"Very well." Ren heaved a huge sigh and trudged toward the electric can-opener. "It's probably better than trying to smash it open."
"It will work, I know it will!"
"We shall see." Ren wedged the edge of the can under the arm and pressed the button. The machine made a loud grinding sound, but nothing happened. The Chinese shaman glared at his mochirei, as if to say, What did I tell you? I knew this wouldn't work!
"Um…" Bason glanced nervously from his master's eyes to the can-opener, then back again. "It would give Miss Jun trouble sometimes, too. Just wiggle it around a little until you get it in place."
Ren struggled with it some more, and each time his efforts proved wasted as the can-opener ground its gears on nothing. His face turning red with fury, the boy finally screamed and hurled the can to the floor. Hunger driving him, he leaped into the air and tried to stomp the insolent can flat, but only succeeded in tripping on it as it slid from under his foot. He fell backwards and banged his head on the edge of the counter before falling to the linoleum and lying very still.
"Bocchama!" The ghost of the Chinese warlord flew to his master's side, afraid that he might have split his skull open. Luckily, he could see no blood, and in a moment Ren's eyes fluttered opened. He sat up slowly, wincing in pain as he gingerly touched the back of his head. A large goose egg was beginning to form where he had struck the edge of the counter.
Ren's eyes slowly fell to the can of peaches on the floor, the little cartoon peach on the front of the label smiling at him, as if to mock his futile efforts.
"That's it! I have had enough!" Ren rose to his feet and marched out of the kitchen, muttering curses in Chinese. Bason remained where he was, wondering what his master was up to. He watched as Ren disappeared down the darkened hall and slammed the door to his room closed. Perhaps he was going to lie down and take a nap. He would feel much better after that, Bason mused to himself.
Suddenly, the door flew open once more and Bason squeaked in fear as his master stood framed in the doorway, his eyes glittering dangerously in the darkness, like a ferocious tiger stalking in the jungle. In his hands, he held the red shaft of his kwan dao, the steel blade glittering as dangerously as the boy's feral eyes.
"B-b-bocchama?" Bason asked the tiger-like child standing in the doorway.
A furious roar escaped Ren's lips as he charged forward, his kwan dao lowered before him like the horn on a charging rhino. He dashed down the hall, golden eyes filled with bloodlust, screaming with insanity. As he entered the living room, he leaped into the air, the bladed weapon flashing over his head. With a shout of "KISAMA!" he brought the kwan dao on top of the helpless can of peaches. Like a tiger pouncing upon its quarry and sinking its claws into the throat of its prey, Ren descended on the can of peaches, the can exploding as peach juice drenched the young shaman like blood spray. Bason had never seen such bloodlust, except during those times of war as soldiers, bereft of everything, charged blindly into battle, seeking the blood of their enemies.
"Your sweet peachy goodness is mine! ALL MINE!" Ren laughed hysterically, his hair, face and shirt covered in sticky peach juice. Dropping his kwan dao, he descended upon the remains of his victim and began devouring the bits of peaches left in the two halves of the can and scattered on the floor.
Bason blinked several times, not quite believing what had happened. The ravenous Ren continued to devour the peaches, unaware of the foot long gash left in the linoleum by his kwan dao. Bason decided not to mention it to him. Jun would probably be angry with her younger brother, but they had plenty of money to replace the rice-steamer and repair the kitchen floor.
The Chinese warlord heaved a sigh, then smiled to himself as he watched his bocchama lick peach juice from his fingertips. He was reminded of the time when Ren had tried peaches for the very first time. He remembered young Ren seated in his highchair while his mother pleaded for him to each some chopped-up peaches. Every time she brought the spoon near his face, he squirmed away, stubborn as always, even at that tender age. Finally, she managed to force some into his mouth, and his eyes lit up immediately. Ren had stuck his chubby hands into his bowl and tried to feed himself, splattering peach pulp and juice everywhere, laughing as he licked it off his fingers.
"What are you smiling at?" Ren frowned slightly, startling Bason out of his reverie.
"Oh, nothing, bocchama." The red spirit flame hovered closer to his master. "But look at you. You're positively drenched in peach juice! Perhaps you should go shower, now."
Ren pulled his shirt away from his chest, surprised at how messy his exploits had gotten him.
"Good idea." The Chinese shaman got to his feet and headed toward the bathroom. "A hot shower and a short nap, and I'll be as right as rain."
"Thank goodness," Bason heaved a huge sigh of relief. "I really must remind Miss Jun to leave plenty of peaches the next time she decides to step out for a bit."
It was only a short distance from the carnival to the large park, and Jun and Pailong meandered aimlessly down the paths beneath the many shade trees, their leaves painted red, orange, and gold by autumn's touch. Eventually, they found a park bench underneath a large water oak where they could sit down and rest for a bit. Actually, Pailong wasn't tired in the least, but he could tell that his mistress was weary from walking for so long in those high heels. Pailong could never understand how women managed to walk for miles on end in such uncomfortable footwear, but he had long since given up on finding the answer.
Jun heaved a sigh of relief and removed her shoes, stretching her legs and toes in front of her as she leaned back in her seat.
"Ah! That's feels so much better." She turned her gaze toward the noonday sun partly hidden behind some puffy white clouds. "I can't believe how much stuff we've done already!"
"And we still have the rest of the day, and the evening to look forward to," Pailong stretched his arms across the back of the bench and leaned his head back, his sunglasses sitting atop his head.
"Wonder what else we'll get to do today?" Jun turned her head toward her mochirei.
"Who knows?" He shrugged his huge shoulders. He sniffed at the air slightly. "What's that smell?"
"What?" Jun looked around.
"Smells like peaches," he turned his gaze toward her and took a deep whiff. "It's coming from you."
"Oh! It must be my shampoo," Jun brushed back a strand of hair that had escaped from behind her ear. "It's called 'peaches and cream'. Ren likes it a lot, so I use it all the time."
"Why?" Pailong's expression was vacant.
"It's his favorite flavor," Jun smiled, abashed by her remark. "Ever since he was a little boy, Ren has always liked peaches. The smell is very comforting to him. Whenever he was scared or upset, I'd give him some peaches to eat, and he'd calm down. Sometimes, I give him some of my peach bath salts for him to use before bed, and he'd sleep like a baby. So, I've always washed my hair with peaches and cream because he likes it."
Pailong couldn't help but laugh a little. Perhaps he had finally stumbled upon the secret of why Ren was always so calm and caring toward his sister.
"Do you think if I smelled like peaches, Ren would learn to like me, too?" Pailong pointed to himself and grinned like a fool.
"What do you mean by that?" Jun looked at him in concern.
The kyonshii's grin quickly faded. "Don't tell me you haven't noticed?" He stared at his boots. "Haven't you seen the way Ren looks at me with such loathing in his eyes. He absolutely appalls me because I have gained freewill."
"Don't be silly, Pailong," Jun leaned over to touch his shoulder. "Ren doesn't hate you."
"You think so?" He raised one eyebrow slightly.
"He just needs some time, that's all." Jun smiled reassuringly. "Once he gets used to the idea, he'll learn to accept you."
"When hell freezes over," Pailong said under his breath. "He can't even learn to treat his own mochirei with respect."
"Look at me." Jun placed her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her own. Her sapphire eyes seemed as deep as wells as she gazed into her kyonshii's ebony eyes. "Once upon a time, I thought you nothing more than a mindless puppet; a corpse with no past and no voice; a doll with no feelings. Just a toy with a name. Now look at us. I came to the realization that it was all a lie. You are a part of my family now, as dear to me as Ren and Bason are."
"Miss Jun…" Pailong breathed, taken aback by her gentle voice. Does she really think of me that way? I had always believed that she still regarded me as a servant and nothing more, but family? Is it really too much to hope for…? He shook his head to banish the thought, lest his voicing it prevent his deepest wish from being realized. She did have feelings for him, in a way. Perhaps, maybe, there was still a chance… No! It was impossible. She was a beautiful dao-shi and him nothing but a frozen corpse. They came from tow totally different worlds. There could never be anything between them.
Jun gently leaned her head against his chest. The noonday sun had warmed his normally cold flesh, giving him some semblance of life. But his heart remained silent beneath her ear, and his chest no longer rose with breath, except when he was speaking. But still, it was enough just to feel the warmth of his body beneath her cheek. She closed her eyes and dozed off.
Pailong stared down at the angel resting her head on his chest and dared not breath, lest he should awaken her. He gently wrapped one arm around her waist and brushed a strand of hair from her face before closing his eyes and dozing off under the shade of the oak tree. He could think of nowhere else he'd rather be.
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Aw! Now it's starting to get fluffy. I've been writing so many details in regards to Jun's and Ren's past that I might not wait until I finish this fic to start writing "The Pride and Honor of the Tao Dynasty" (tentative title, see my profile page more details on my future projects). Coming up next, Tao Ren goes commando as he tries to infiltrate the neighbor's garden and filch a few peaches (he's giving up in the kitchen… for now!) And Pailong and Jun head by the arcade for some good-old seventies video game nostalgia, but some punk-ass kids try to spoil their fun. Whose up for a "Dance Dance Revolution Showdown"? Rating will definitely change to PG-13, just to be safe.