-ichi-
He does not think, at first, that they are worthy.
The comparison, in fact, is so patently ridiculous that he wonders how it can even exist. On the one hand, Tao Ren, embodiment of a true warrior…and himself, Bason, the Tao family's loyal servant for century upon century. On the other? A loudmouthed, annoying brat with as much lack of discipline as he has appetite. And as for his spirit –
Well, the first time he sees Kororo, he is amused, at best. How can this little sprite, so new in the world, even begin to compete with the dangers they will face in the fight for the title of Shaman King? She and her master, they are all heart and no technique, and yet they still maintain a blind conviction that they will triumph over all challengers. Pitiful, laughable! What do they know of war?
And yet, he finds himself watching as little Kororo struggles to grow and train, to gain strength and power. He catches her furtive glare in his direction, and smiles back, cold and neutral.
Prove yourself, child. You and Horokeu both…before you come anywhere near Ren-sama.
-ni-
Over time, respect takes root and begins to grow.
Bason and his Bocchama train relentlessly. The ancient general finds himself with a degree of strength he has never felt before in all his years of not-quite-afterlife. It is something he sorely needs, for their endless fights with foes that seem to grow ever stronger, and do not always follow the code of fair play.
In fact, as he turns his mind to matters closer to home, he is surprised at the degree of resourcefulness the pair from the North has shown. Certainly they have gotten farther than he would ever have given them credit for. He certainly did not predict the frigid beauty (keen as a sword's edge) that Kororo finally revealed in her giant, armored Oversoul, or the volume of power Horokeu channels to her in his willful determination to keep going, despite the number of defeats tallying up against his victories.
Ice, he has discovered, is indeed an element to be reckoned with. And its wielders are, he finally feels, beings he can look on with respect - equals. They are those he can fight with in a team and feel secure because of their presence at his back. No longer a couple of nuisances, weaknesses he must protect.
His faith in Horokeu is justified at the finish of the Shaman Fight, in the lending of energy to Yoh and Amidamaru for their killing form, their killing stroke. Later on, when he feels disapproval over the growing relationship of his young master with the blue-haired boy, he calls to mind the twin azure flames he had seen through the haze of power, brighter than the sun.
He also remembers the night the Shaman Fight ended with a special fondness, because it is the night he and the little leaf sprite converse, for the first time, as friends.
-san-
They tend to spent their time together now, a companionship held dear and not so easily lost. When there is nothing to do (for events like the Fight are few and far between, and Anna's child gives her less time to play the tyrant), when it is late at night and their masters slumber on their beds or the warm space before the fire, they tell each other their own stories.
He speaks of battle and the trials of leadership, of dust and blood and days when you trudge across the burning plains with the feeling of death in your throat. He speaks of the dance that is battle, human battle – sheer exhilaration and the feeling that the moment is forever yours in all its glory. To fight for what you believe in, and to know that you will die for it, if necessary. To continue the fight even after the battles have claimed your body and your life.
And she – she speaks of things entirely different. Watching the sun shine through the waving masses of leaves, creating dappled reflections of green upon the earth. Lazy days in the gentle world under the fukki fields, days sometimes when there is little to do but play. Another aspect – the gentle watch over a people that is divided and dwindling into obscurity, and the rejoicing that ensues when a new life comes into the world, a new hope for the dying race. The Koropokkuru elders' worried faces as they feel the constant destruction of the beautiful plants that are half their spirit. Her own promise to do anything she could to protect her home, including feeling the restriction of being bound to a child on whom everyone has laid their hopes, young as he is, as they both are.
Different backgrounds, different tales, such incredible contrasts that it is almost as though the tellers are from different worlds entirely.
-shi-
It is in these contrasts that Bason finally learns to accept. For in their own way, Kororo and her Ainu boy have everything that he and his Bocchama have, and perhaps more. For it is not only the fight they know, but the peace it brings.
And slowly but surely, Bason and Ren are learning the meaning of this peace from them.
It is more than enough.
~-~-~-~-~
A/N: O_o…that was a RenHoro by the way. Not a BasonKororo. I just thought it would be interesting to do a fic for the spirits…since if you think about it, they're absolutely essential to the show, ne? And I made Bason use Horo's real name because I get the feeling it's more polite or meaningful or something? Yeah.
I'm still listing what other one-shots I'm doing:
- Koropokkuru possible futurefic, 'Seedling'
- Sequel to 'Grip' (Maaaaybe. BIG maaaaybe.)
- HaoxYoh, 'Narcissus'
- Hao and Opacho fic, 'Shatter,' (Bit of a maybe. Want to see final episodes first.)
- Humor fic, 'Monday Morning.' (XD I want to finish this, I really do. It's actually halfway done, yanno?)