Summary: A team of five young anthropologists are recruited by the notorious Romafeller Foundation to investigate something long lost; instead, they find each other and much more than they had bargained for. 1x2, 3x4, 5xS, other. AU. WIP.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; however, the concept and the plot are of my devising. No profit has been made or will be made from this venture, and no infringement of rights is intended.
Note: All coincidences are purely coincidental; this short story is not meant to infringe or insult any anthropologist anywhere. As I am not acquainted with ethnographers and I have just begun my first anthropology course, all of the anthropological activities are my creation and any passing similarity to established protocol is just that, passing and no more. It is my sincere hope that true anthropologists are more diligent and less self-centered that the characters portrayed.
Chapter 9: Psychology Shapes Up
Over the next couple of days, Duo and Heero managed to settle into a sort of lopsided routine. Sometimes, they spent the morning gardening, weaving baskets, pounding flour, hauling wood or clearing the encroaching greenery with the boys using prized machetes. Duo particularly liked machetes. Around midday, they would spend a few hours wandering the village together and talking to people.
Apparently, hair was a definitive personality statement. Many of the villagers thought that Heero, with his functional self-cut hair and stoicism, was a warrior. And, they thought that Duo was a madman questing for his spark.
Heero agreed.
Afternoons passed quickly, and were filled with intricate and detailed tasks: such as the thirty-one ways to strip bark so that the texture would be perfect when woven into a tree-climbing clinging rope. Sometimes, they hunted with the boys, chasing down the scavengers that hung about the edge of the village, shooting birds with darts, spearing fish, or playing games.
Of course, Heero excelled at all physical activities. Jay had tested, trained, and enhanced him intensively over the period of several years under extenuating circumstances; perfection was the only viable result. He had, of course, primary skills and abilities. For example, he was able to execute multiple aerial acrobatics if given a dive of sufficient height.
At one point, he had been standing on a limb of middling breadth in the canopy, and had felt a sudden shift in weight as the structural integrity of the branch disintegrated; with point three five seconds warning, he was able to adequately move his body to prevent damage, maximize chances of preventing ground contact, and launch himself from the branch.
It was accomplished.
He caught himself, and managed to swing down to the forest floor with minimal injury. Carefully, he tested himself to determine his operation performance and repaired the damage by relocating his joint.
The boys thought that it was remarkable. He earned the warrior-name, "W'ng," which meant that he was one of the "Piop'l" and possessed the "spark" that defined humans from non-humans.
Duo thought it was, "Disgusting. I didn't know people could do that, and I didn't ever want to know. Damn!" He shook his head. "You're fucked, you know that, Stone Face?"
Heero blinked. It had only been the practical thing to do.
That night, they sat around the CPU fire with the women. A lot of the children were lolling around, sleeping, and those bordering on adolescence were valiantly trying to keep their eyes open. Duo had been in nonstop action. If he was not asking just the perfect question, he was getting the exact perfect answer. Sometimes, he even managed to do both at once. Previously, Heero had thought that linguistic feat impossible.
Duo managed to work himself around, at least, that's what Heero thought he was doing, to a sort of finale. "So, Mi'a, it if is not an un-terrible non-imposition, may I ask you something, maybe of a sort of maybe personal inner fire nature?"
"Ya, ya…" Mi'a waved him off, and propped up her youngest on her knee. "You are too fancy with words, boy-o. You are nothing to me, see? So, yes. Go on."
"How did you deal with his death?"
Her face darkened a little, and her lips thinned. She looked away, but decided to answer instead of playing dumb. "Iya, I said the words. I put him in the place."
The other women were listening intently.
A gleam entered Duo's violet eyes, and it was eerie. "The place?"
"Yes." She petted her youngest's hair. Softly, "The place of origins."
Duo was staring at her, intensely, his gaze trained intently on the way Mi'a's hands touched her boy's blondish curls. He managed, "I thought that the Piop'l came from ashes and light?"
"Aa. Ya." She dismissed those words with an it's-obvious wave of her hands, and repeated with some amusement, "We come from ashes and light."
"What place, then?"
"That place. The other place. The place of origins." She shrugged. "You know if you know, and if you do not know, you do not need to know. I think, I have the feeling that you will know. You will have the need, and you will know when the time is the time that is right. Yes?"
A light suddenly faded from him, and his grin sprung into place. "Uh, sure, I don't really get that, but yeah." He fiddled with his braid, flipped it over his shoulders, and clasped his cross. "Thanks for the advice."
Heero didn't think that sounded like gratitude.
"No issue. You will understand when you do." She smiled sadly, reflecting on the loss of her child. "It is no problem."
"Can I ask, what were the words?"
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, light shining ever followed by night. Then whatever I needed to say, so that I would not hold his light to the ground with my darkness. Blood is like that, you know. It shares things."
"Hm." Duo shrugged. "I don't really know. I was raised by the village."
"That is sad. No cousins? No pair-cousins?"
"Iya, no. That was not how it was."
"Wae, that is sad. Sad for you. Sad for the village because of you. But, since you don't have the blood understanding, I will tell you that it is a good thing to know. It will help you understand the workings of smiles."
"Smiles have workings?"
"Of course. Same as tears. Same as love. Same as war. Same as life. All have workings, only it is a matter of time before we understand how the ashes fall."
Somehow, that comforted Heero. If things that incomprehensible and ethereal had workings, he could dissect, examine and eventually understand these human things.
"Could you tell me what you mean by that?" Duo seemed to be getting a bit of his enthusiasm for anthropology back.
"Some." She shrugged, and picked up her child. "Some others, you just know or not know." With her characteristic curtness, she grabbed her little girl's hand and pulled them both back to her house.
"Thank you." Duo muttered, and tapped his recorder as if to remind himself of something. "Yeah, thanks."
Some of the village women excused Mi'a for her curtness. It was just her way, they said, and then gave the boys more appropriate goodnights. No one seemed to think any less of the young men for retiring early that night. Some vague laughter drifted through the dark air, and ashes were gently raked over the CPU.
Ni'loko' walked back with them, being as close to a neighbor as they got. She was not with her pair, because her pair was pregnant and not feeling up to moving around. She talked to them good-naturedly, and in the manner of women everywhere, told them about her husband. She sprinkled pale white dust, from dry river clay, around her little house. And, Duo was so preoccupied that he did not even notice. Heero had to learn that it was to determine which pests and what pests were eating her stores. That method only worked during the dry season.
Inside King's Cot, Heero brewed some tea. High in anti-oxidants. Unnecessary, but possibly beneficial. Wufei still wasn't back yet, but as he was the one who had brought this blend, Heero set a cup aside. He figured that this was called courtesy, a manner in which professionals attempted to treat each other. It seldom occurred.
As Heero carefully organized his belongings, downloaded the recordings, and otherwise prepared for a sleep cycle, Duo stalked around the perimeter of the house. He was trying to write in his journal while he stalked, but that did not seem to be a very effective method.
"It's not enough. Never." Duo snarled. "I want the answer!"
Well, Duo hadn't been addressing him. So, Heero went to sleep.