Once, in the older times, China experienced its Golden Age. People always had something on their plates, art was flourishing, the empire was united as a whole and stable, and most of all; they were satisfied with their lives. It was all thanks to the hard work of the Emperors of the Zhao Dynasty. The glorious bloodline has produced ruler after ruler of great success; some were exceptional tacticians, winning battles with their ingenuity, sharp wit and the endless loyalty of their soldiers. Some of them were kind and righteous, strengthening the prosperity of the Golden Age and enjoying unity higher than what anyone could dream of. There were even great minds invested in the progression of technology, succeeding to reach a pace never seen before.
But… as the teachings of the Tao goes, nothing exists without its counterpart.
It was just a matter of time, before the Zhao Dynasty had a tyrant who combined the lust for strength with their inherited talents. Fan Lei, the 'God of War', as he called himself, was a merciless person. He spared none who dared to stand in his path for power and ruled with an iron fist, crushing his enemies with no remorse. Fan was hungry for influence and strength, so when he caught a rumor about a vase filled with Elemental Chi, the antithesis for the chi flowing in every living being, he gathered all his soldiers and took it with force.
But he wasn't sated yet. He used this power to broaden the boarders of China to what we know today. Even a coalition of the neighboring countries couldn't stop him, and he came out victorious from every battle he fought. It is said a mere swing of Fan's hand was enough to decimate entire units of soldiers, winning the battle after such a demonstration of power. He was unstoppable.
Until the Five Tortoises came.
These wanderers swore their wisdom and allegiance to the Emperor for a place to live. Fan was distrustful towards the tortoises, not understanding why they would offer such an alliance when so many others opposed him. In the end, they gained his trust by helping him master Living Chi. Fan, delighted that he bettered his arsenal, realized that the five were true allies of his and shared his Elemental Chi with them as a return. He hoped that by giving them power, together they could take over the entire world.
That was his first and last mistake.
The tortoises attacked Fan while he was preparing for the first battle against an empire to the west. They restrained him and took away all his Elemental Chi, locking it inside the same vase Fan had got it from. The Emperor didn't survive the strain the extraction did to his body. They freed the world from a warmonger.
Then came the question; who will become the next Emperor of China and take on the Mandate of Heaven? Fan had many heirs and heiresses, but things didn't go the way anyone expected. No one knows what happened behind those doors where the Grand Council met in the following few days, as they were secreted and never told to the public. Only the ones inside those doors knew, and all of them had taken the secret with them to the grave. What the people of China knew however, was that 5 days after the death of Emperor Fan Lei, a new dynasty reigned by the name of Honghe, with the family of the Kekao foxes in reign.
Oogway laughed at the recurring memory. The image of a group of youngsters with their caretaker sharing them this story shone vividly in his memory. The joy that pervaded his heart witnessing the scene was almost too much for him at the time; that people were keeping this tale from fading into the pages of a dusty scroll, hidden in the corner of Emperor's Palace. A pity it happened either way, and by now, nobody could recall much of the Golden Ages of China anymore. Oh well, it was still fun to battle young Fan, he sure put up a fight.
The shining of the memory fading, a question stood apparent; why did the universe decide for him to have this memory as a vision?
"Interesting indeed…"
Oogway closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, without musing about an answer. The universe would answer him, when it was time anyway.
"Inner Peace… Inner Peace…"
While he meditated under the peach tree, his home since his passing to the Spirit Realm, a lone petal detached itself from a particular healthy branch, and descended towards the elder tortoise. It swayed in the air steadily, having all the time in the world, until it found peace on one of Oogway's lone claws. Right in this moment, a playful breeze tickled his face, and the old tortoise found his face stretching into a smile.
"Very interesting indeed."
Oogway's sparking eyes opened and looked down at the quaint little petal.
"The continuation of one's fate and the beginning of another?" he asked himself, "I'll take two."
Young Po still had to face a new chapter in his story, but Oogway didn't fret. He was confident that both he and the other Chosen One were capable of finishing the tasks the universe handed out to them. Though, he guessed, the time may come when he has to lend a helping hand here and there. Oh well, he could at least amuse himself in their confusion. Those faces he gets when he shares his wisdom were his favorite part. He always found great amusement seeing Shifu get agitated whenever Oogway didn't give him a straightforward answer.
After all, where's the fun in that?
He continued smiling as the wind caught the cusp of the petal and disappeared with it on a great journey. He knew who the wind meant. The wind never blew in the Spirit Realm.
Let it be known that the Valley of Peace was a spectacular beauty. Be it because of the sugary pelt coating the streets with glistening gloss, or the fresh breeze of blooming life as the bushes and trees wake up from their slumber. Because of the way this life grows to its fullest in just mere months embraced by the arms of the yellow sky giant, or because how it all fades. This cycle of life was beautiful, because inevitability is beautiful, and the valley was a place where fate was a common friend, thus coming in a full circle.
Right now, the circle was at a point where your friend was his majesty, the brilliant sun.
And the Valley knew it, evidence was the undergoing annual Summer Bazaar. The village only had one main street which was like a restless cord of colorful ants, where not a single one of those stayed in place. Proud people poured out of and into the different shops, items in hand they have traded for so skillfully. If you joined on this cord, you wouldn't be able to ask your questions as these ants were particularly rambunctious, trying to sell their merchandise and trying to get the attention of the locals or, dare I say, the Masters of Kung Fu. This was the time of the year, when merchants from all around China brought their most prized possessions here, hoping they could sell them, and maybe see these belongings as parts of the Jade Palace. It equaled a kiss from heaven and the greatest honor if something that had been yours became one of the many artifacts in the well-known center of wisdom.
One shop was a boutique, led by a local named Lao Shu, that specialized in selling the best of what the valley could offer to China. This was the part of the year where Lao's shop shined when it came to sales, the visiting merchants themselves loved a good souvenir from such a highly regarded place. Lao's shop just happened to be the best at it, the old goose had a knack for collecting masterfully crafted objects and how to use these to interest the visiting people.
Or, dare I say, the Masters of Kung Fu.
Lao was old enough to know that boasting was nothing but the mischief of people's pride. He was an accomplished monger for many years; he knew that success was nothing but fading gold dust; it was pretty, really pretty, but oh-so easy to be taken away. That's why he didn't let his head go up to the clouds, and that's why he was known as the 'humble grandpa' of the village. But even he couldn't deny that his heart jumped something akin to naïve cheer when none other than Master Crane and the Dragon Warrior stepped into his shop, politely greeting him with respectful bows.
And let's not talk about the fact when the lantern-lit wooden interior of the shop became just a little more alive when both found a particular item on one of Lao's shelves.
The elder goose was solely invested in the Dragon Warrior's highly infectious enthusiasm and his fast rambling on nothing but a pair of metal elbow pads, yet he made sure to keep an eye on the other customers too, especially on that fellow Master. Crane too had been invested at first, but then his eyes found an item in the corner, and the future suddenly intrigued Lao very much.
The item was a hand-crafted erhu. He found the instrument and its bow abandoned in the mud at the bank of the river Huang He, and he brought it back to the valley after seeing its marvelous design. Carvings of none other than cranes decorated its slim neck, depicting their flight towards the sun, which was the instrument's sound box painted as. It helped that the python skin and the strings were still in perfect condition. After a quick cleaning and a second option by a friend of his, well-versed in everything art, it became one of Lao's favorite items. But the question remained; who would buy it? He knew everyone in the village, and he also knew that no one played erhu, so no one would buy it. But here's the thing…
He intended to sell it in the village, but not to a villager.
So it was understandable why he was just around 90% invested in the Dragon Warrior's words. Maybe the instrument would finally find the owner who would cherish it better than anyone could. And when he noticed from his behind the counter seat Master Crane tip-toeing over to the corner, his eyes sweeping over the rest of the customers to make sure no one was watching him, Lao knew that he was about to witness an artist meeting with his destined weapon.
Crane, seeing that the rest of the shop were busy with either Po or whatever piece of pretty thing they laid their eyes upon, turned around and inspected what he would describe as his soul if it had a physical body. No, literally, this was his soul right there in all its beautiful glory. He raised a careful wing and touched the white string; they were taut, the tension in them perfect. He looked back at the owner just in time to see the elder chuckle in his raspy and worn out voice at something Po have just said. Crane smiled at the scene and made sure to remember to tell Shifu about this old man, the two could very well be friends.
But it was not a priority, not right now at least. Po was a distraction and loud enough that maybe a little trial on the instrument wouldn't gather attention. Crane didn't actually know whether he was allowed to try the erhu and he was just making a big deal out of it, but at the moment he cared little. He set his mind onto one thing, and one thing only; to see if it sings as well as it looks. It mattered the world to him.
He took the bow in his talons, feeling a shiver shake his body by that smoothness never before felt. The part of his feet touching the bow tingled, Crane could swear he heard a playful giggle at the same time. Shaking his delusions out of his head, he put the bow above the strings and with a delicate pull; he made the note.
For all he cared, his breath could have stopped that moment and never come back.
The note may have been a subtle one, only his ears giving refuge to it, but that was enough. The note was… more than enough. Perfection was a word overused by people who haven't seen it yet. This… this was beyond the medium of perfection. It flowed in the air like a miniature brush on a scroll, the pitch of it like the voice of his mother on a night interrupted by a nightmare; sweet, safe, mature, loving. Crane swore his sight would have colors never seen before, had it not been because his eyes were closed in bliss. He didn't need real life; he wanted this sound to be his reality. if Po's cooking was the best in China, then this was the Po's cooking of all that is art.
Is this what love felt like?
Trying to savor the godly sound as long as he could, yet be absolutely doomed to fail, a sigh escaped his beak. Oh man, if the most basic note was like this, he could not wait to actually play it. He lifted the erhu from the table it had been with slow, mindful movements, the bow transferring onto his wings meanwhile. He certainly didn't think he was worthy to be holding this masterpiece that would be his soon. He just hoped he could afford it.
Walking up to the counter, his eyes squinted at Po. The panda was punching the air with a supply of comical noises that Crane supposed were the sounds of hitting somebody. The all so obvious metal elbow pads on his knuckles didn't really let the bird gain a clue of what was happening in front of him.
"If there's something that will never get boring…"
"Endearing, isn't it?" A light voice said from his right. Crane turned, his eyes lingering at Po for a second longer, before focusing on the source; the elderly goose.
"Are… you talking to me?" Crane asked.
The goose sent him a sideways smile as he watched the panda from his seat. "Why, is there anyone else I could be talking to?"
Crane, for the sake of argument, looked around the shop to see the rest of the customers minding their own business, still looking at the pieces of pretties and the panda's showcase of Kung Fu skills.
"The only one I would say is busy with… being endearing I guess," Crane replied, returning the elder's smile with a shrug.
"That we can agree on."
The two avians watched the panda relentlessly assault whatever enemy he imagined with those damn elbow pads of his. They apparently changed their functions to a pair of brass knuckles in the meantime, Crane guessed.
"The hero of China, huh? No wonder he is that good, nobody would even think twice about what this panda could do, leading them to their own demise," the goose remarked under his breath. Crane thought this was addressed to him, as the volume was barely loud enough to make out the words, and he was the closest. Yet he did, and he frowned upon it, which Lao caught at a glance his way.
"Is there something wrong with what I said?" the elder asked, and Crane looked up at those tired, yet happy eyes of a person who have seen all sides of the world.
"Well, I…" the avian Master began, looking away. A particular scratch on the wood of the floor was his new focus, "…don't believe in heroes."
That got the elder's undivided attention.
"No? Even if it's the Dragon Warrior? A friend of yours, maybe even family?"
Crane shook his head. "No. There are no heroes."
"Oh my," the goose said, finally facing his chat partner and extending his wing, "Name's Lao Shu, owner of this shop."
Crane eyed the appendage, before clumsily rearranging the erhu in a way that allowed him to reach over the counter and shake wings with the elder.
"Master Crane."
"That's your name? Or there is some fancy Kung Fu code saying that you must use your title before the elderly?"
Crane shook his head, a smile passing through his face at the small talk. "I'm used to using my title whenever I introduce myself. We all are, really."
"But you have a name?" Lao asked, and Crane offered a stern nod, yet the goose knew he wouldn't be getting it even if he pried.
"That's discipline right here. Can't say I disapprove," Lao said, his face searching the younger bird, "So about those damn heroes… Even when most China regards multiple people amongst them, including Master Crane himself, you still go against it. Why?" Crane winced at the remained that yes, some actually thought of him as a big name. The smile left his face immediately.
"Because… most China looks at heroes as people who save the day from the evil and make everyone happy in the end. The person who makes the happy ending come true. But… is it really a happy ending, when not everyone is happy?"
Lao squinted at him. "So you mean, the heroes made the evil sad by doing a heroic act, and that's why they are not heroes?"
Crane snapped his head up, his beak shutting together in a loud clank. "No! Dear god, that's not what I meant."
"Then what was it you meant? Need some detail here, these old feathers saw better days."
Crane sighed, finally deciding to put the erhu on the table. Slowly, for the sake of the instrument. "What I meant was, no matter how we look at a situation where a new victor takes a seat at the hall of heroes, there would always be a party of people who gets the short end of the stick. People who had no other choice, yet they still lost everything in the end."
"That's a… mighty claim to make young man. Am I right to assume you are talking from experience?" Lao asked, and heavy air found its way to his old lungs. The kind of heavy that doesn't pose a nuisance or a challenge, it just makes you wish to lie down and let go of everything.
Crane answered almost instantly. "I do."
"Ah."
Crane raised his head and connected eyes with Lao.
"…When the hero triumphs over the villain, he triumphs over anyone who supported them. But people forget that not all of those had a choice in the matter. Not all of them followed the villain's ideas or goals. What happens to those? They didn't want any of it, and they still lost. Where are they now, what are they now? They are alone. Ostracized. Hiding. Without a family. With no one to hear them out."
…
"Did the Dragon Warrior triumph over such people?"
Crane kept silent, but Lao recognized the expression when one was in search for a particular memory. The taller bird's yellow eyes only blinked once in this pause. The elder could hear his own heartbeat, which only Po's audible mutterings from nearby and the shuffling of clothes by a different customer looking over the cloth shelf disturbed. Then the Master spoke, slowly, his voice strained.
"Lord Shen's wolves."
If Lao had eyebrows, those would have launched themselves off.
"…And you think since this happened to those wolves, your friend shouldn't be considered a hero?"
"Not with a capital H at least. But I do think Po is an everyday hero. As in, he helps people daily. He does things like teaching the village Kung Fu, helping his father manage his noodle shop, cooking for us better and better meals on a daily basis - he even helps us better our own techniques, without him knowing about it, because that's how good his training regime is. But it's not the same as a Hero."
"I cannot think of anyone as such if even a tiny fraction of the people involved are suffering unjustly."
Lao didn't reply to that. Of all his years trotting on the soil of China, he has never heard such a bold ideology from such a person like Master Crane. He had heard sayings that every artist has at least one view on the world that was bold and maybe even questionable, but he just scoffed at it. Blatant generalization was never to his liking, but he guessed there may have been some truth to it. Master Crane himself had probably shared this view before, and experienced backlash for it, or hadn't and it was the first time he put it into words. His posture was surely not trying to hide anything; Beak pointed downwards, shoulders slumped, his limp wing resting on the sound box of the erhu, eyes distant and unfocused.
"But you think he is an everyday hero," the elder stated with a tilt of his head.
"Yeah, probably the biggest in China. He does so much for everyone, getting back so little. But a hero? No, none of us are. There will always be a party in the hero's story who suffers."
"Watchaaa!"
The conversation certainly stopped here. Because at the moment, barely centimeters divided Crane's face from a fist and an elbow pad strapped onto it, a right one if he wasn't blind. His body ceased to move, and his mind barely could process what had just happened.
"I got you right between the eyes," Po said, retracting his fist. Only now did Crane remember what blinking and speaking was.
"W-what."
"I said - and I wanted to say it for like ever - I totally got you with these awesome knuckle shields! Maybe we need to improve your reflexes, don't we?"
Crane shook his head and blinked at Po. "Knuckle… shields?"
"Yeah. Look how cool they are!" the next thing Crane knew was that the two identical, but opposite in direction 'knuckle shields' filled most of his sight.
The avian sighed. At least Po didn't hear the earlier conversation.
"Po…"
"Yes?"
Crane pushed the panda's arms away from his face and clicked his tongue. "First of all, the thing you are talking about is 'brass knuckles'."
"I knew there was a cooler name for these."
"And - if I can have the honor to say that - these are not brass knuckles."
"Huh, wha'? But they are, like, meant to be here. Okay, it feels a little uncomfortable, but which weapon doesn't at first try?"
The look Crane gave him was flatter the Jade Palace's floor.
"I can think of a few examples. Like these elbow pads, designed for your, well, elbow. Let me help you," Crane unstrapped the piece of metal from Po's right fist, and reaching around, he re-strapped it on the panda's black elbow.
"There you go. Now you are half qualified to beat the super evil phantom who has been harassing your imagination," Crane said, offering the beginning of a smirk. His chest relieved at the annoyed, yet humorous look he was given.
"First of all, how dare you. Second, the super evil phantom is real. And when he attacks, guess who will be ready?" Po said, proudly pointing at himself.
"How foolish of me," Crane said, rolling his eyes fondly, "Until then, the fact remains that you spent most of your free-time hitting blank air with a misplaced piece of armor in front of a whole shop."
"Oh, don't be like that, every training is good training."
Crane shrugged and nodded. "Fair point. How does it feel?"
Po raised his arm and scrutinized the change in the system. "Woah, it totally feels right there, but - wait, does this mean these are not weapons of mass destruction?"
Crane's urge to facepalm, or at least to tip his hat stood strong for passing second.
"No, I'm afraid not," Lao finally spoke up, and Crane admitted that he may have forgotten him being there. At least, the elderly goose was too busy with re-strapping the left pad onto the panda to notice his jolt.
Po held up his arms after receiving his fixes. "Huh. These look cool, for not-weapons."
A grimace flashed through the avian Master's face at the incredibly forced-sounding polite reply.
"Well, nobody said that," he spoke up, getting Po's attention, "I mean, if you elbowed someone with this, like a phantom, they sure wouldn't stand up anytime soon, right?"
Po's eyes (and pupils) widened in wonder, and Crane could swear he saw actual light shine from the panda's face. "Whaaat? Please, Mister Shop Owner, do you have something I can try these out? I would be forever in your debt."
Lao pretended to be thinking, before smiling widely and nodding. He motioned to the shelf where the panda took the armor pieces from originally. His wing pointed at a small, white piece of paper on the dark brown of the wooden shelf.
"There, it lists the special conditions for the purchase of weaponry. Among them, it is stated that you are required to try them out before a decision was made. The target dummies are at the back, but I'm afraid you have to wait for them."
Po's face fell. "Wait? But why?"
"Well…" Lao said, chuckling at the panda's pouting. "I do need to attend to the other customers, and I have spent a lot of time in your company. Plus, I think your friend has already found what he desired, and he already tried it, so…"
Crane awkwardly smiled at Lao while stroking the item in question. "Hehe… sorry."
"No harm done. And it's not like I planned on selling it to anyone else…"
A loving smile graced the Master's beak as he looked down at his treasure. "Yeah, this is basically per - hold on, what? What do you mean?" But the elder ignored his question as he was already in the middle of a dialogue with a different customer.
Meanwhile, Po raised his head as he interpreted this new information. His eyes went from Lao to Crane, and to the erhu under his wing.
"Oh. What's that?"
The perplexed Crane turned to Po, before registering the panda's words and looking down at the item.
"An erhu. It's just an instrument, really," he said, removing his appendage to help the panda see.
"Woah, an actual instrument? Plays music and all?" Po asked, leaning closer to the object in question, looking it over like he would a Kung Fu artifact, "Looks awesome. Can you play it?"
Crane looked away, his face starting to heat up. Now that the center of attention and the direction of the questions were on him, his beloved dry words has also steered clear from him. Like a disloyal spouse after you showed the first signs of decreasing in your quality of life.
"W-well, I may be a bit rusty-"
"Can it play action music?"
Crane forgot the audience at the weird question. "Ac-action music? What do you-"
"Yes!" the panda suddenly exploded in enthusiasm, "Y'know, songs that make fights more intense, gives us sudden energy when we are getting tired. Those kinda songs."
"I mean… the erhu is pretty flexible, I'm sure I could-"
Po didn't need to hear more, and hastily picking up the instrument, he thrust it into Crane's wings. The bird could hear the frosty crackle of his blood going cold at how… barbarian-like was his soon to be possession handled.
"Perfect! Could you play one? Please? Pretty please?"
The veins of the avian Master was about ready to defrost, when Po made his request. In any other scenario, Crane would have said yes, only finding a little apprehension in the fact that he was playing for one of his best friends, but this was different; there were strangers around. Strangers, that suddenly looked very interested in one of their idol's possible private concert. Strangers, with eyes that reflected innocent intrigue, but Crane saw past those. He saw the flashes of judging disgust there, saw the mirages of ridiculing laughter, when he eventually messes up a note and then goes downhill from there. He saw the way people would start connecting one thing to another, and then deciding that he was no longer worth to be a Kung Fu Master, and then…
His heart could run laps around China in its trial to manually thaw the blood of the fear-struck bird, who was only barely holding onto his breath, so he wouldn't start hyperventilating in place. But it was so hard when more and more eyes joined Po's hopeful ones, which meant more and more eyes to fail before.
"P-Po, I cannot," he said, lowering his voice.
The panda furrowed his brows. "But why?"
"Because… people," Crane hissed, trying to motion with his head to the many members of their little audience that Po was completely unaware of 'till now.
Bless Po's heart, really, Crane wouldn't be surprised if it were actually made of gold. But the panda's big mouth was officially the bird's least favorite part of him, especially after this;
"Oh right, you are completely right. You are an artist kinda dude, those need a captive audience or something. This audience? Just spectators. But watch this," Po then cupped his palms in front of his mouth, so his next words would reach the smallest corner in the boutique, "Attention! Master Crane is ready for a private concert for none other THAN YOU, RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW. We… don't know what he will play, but I can guarantee that it will be awesome!"
Que the unhinged beak and dizziness that came with spiraling down into the deepest corner of despair.
Po's obnoxious proclamation was so effective that not only did everyone in the shop, including Lao, turn their complete attention to Crane, but people from the outside too found themselves intrigued by what they heard. The creak of the front door, the clattering and knocking of the different feet hitting the wooden floor, and the noises of many curious male and female, young and old gaining volume over time were the telltale signs of the change in the situation.
Po stood tall before him, beaming and probably thinking he helped. How hadn't he noticed the scrawny bird's stiff stance, his trembling wings clutching his prized erhu, or how the entirety of Crane's chest bounced to help school his constricting insides? The avian's discipline over his own emotions fled so far beyond him, it disappeared over the horizon. How could Po not see it?
"S-sure," And by god, the pitch he used would have him hide in a corner for days. He was supposed to be one of the male specimen of his species, yet here was, a giant mess of squeaky anxiety.
Grounding the sound box of the erhu and taking the bow in his talons, he took a shaky breath and closed his eyes. Desperately trying to zone out everything around him, he focused on the song in mind, his favorite called 'The Ascension of the Wise'. A slow-paced tune with a wide range of notes, and some trill here and there were the fix me up he needed right now. It's not the action song Po had hoped for, but then again; was Crane ever a man of action?
Chest movements unchanging, he put a feeble wing on the strings, the other on the top of the erhu for balance. Now that he was ready once again to taste the wide road of tunes, he took a little peek at his watchers. Po's very excited eyes met his, and the innocent cheer in them eased Crane's worries a little. He would have grinned back, had it not been for the awful situation. He also met Lao's pair, the elder smiling that knowing smile, like he knew that everything would be all right. The avian Master sure hoped so, 'being all right' was what he desperately needed.
He stopped peeking and put the bow on top of the strings. When the two objects met, a small, deep note resonated through the air, and Crane's shoulders relaxed.
It was showtime.
GONG-GONG… GONG
Before he could pull the bow, a series of powerful noise overpowered the shop. It came far from outside, and every single customer snapped their heads up to it. Murmurs and whispers broke out among the audience, and Crane could see the twisted features of fear infecting person by person. Everyone knew what three hits on the gong meant.
There was an attack on the valley.
Forgetting the reason they were here, the many varieties of animals flowed out of the shop, some lost in panic, some in determination to get home and save whatever was precious to them. Po was among them, and he was probably the only one excited about this.
"Yeah! Bandits came for the next round! To the field, Crane!"
And with that, the creaky door was left open, dust settling in its frame. The boutique was quiet again, the only music filling the space was the jingling of money and the scrooping of wood. Supposedly Lao was doing the smart thing and hiding his valuables. Crane on the other hand just stood here, bow still ready to make a first note. His heart was knocking on his chest, thankful to whatever higher power out there, and he could physically feel as the mighty scepter of relief decimated the wastes of anxiety. His muscles refreshed, a cooler and lighter sensation filling them, and he surrendered gladly.
"Crane? You all right in there?" Po's voice said from the outside. From the closeness of it, Crane guessed the panda was right outside.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, sighing, "I'm coming…"
"Master Crane."
His name made him turn. Lao stood behind the counter, that typical 'nice old man' smile gracing his face, that had an undeniable beatific effect on everyone. Even Crane, who was just exposed to the lonely plains of failure, had found the base of his beak pointing upwards.
"I'll store your and your friend's picked goods for safekeeping. Be sure to come back for them," Lao said and took the instrument from the fellow bird. Crane's wings immediately folded back to his body, his feathers protesting against the lost touch of that holy relic.
"Thank you, sir."
Lao waved him off. "None of that. I am the one who should be telling honorifics. Especially to the one person my grandson is all about."
"Your grandson?" Crane asked, his head tilting.
"His name is Xiao. He simply adores you. Has a little toy of you, and I swear it's like the two are always together."
Crane blinked, and he had to put effort into not letting his beak fall again.
"Wow, okay…"
He registered the sentences comprising the individual words, but around the 'adores' part, his brain stopped interpreting the data. Everything after that could have been another language. Not that he got a brain freeze or that he had a limited vocabulary, it's just… he has never heard those words in that particular order in that particular context with that particular meaning. To simply put; Master Crane being adored instead of Master Crane, part of Furious Five, was an alien concept to him.
One that he did not agree with wholeheartedly.
His mind rebooting, he realized that there were still things to do and a village to help defend. Making a final bow of respect to Lao, he turned to the door. His heart was somewhat back in its normal pace, his lungs still a little shaky, but nothing problematic otherwise.
"All right Crane," he said under his breath, "You've been doing this for two decades. You go out, defend your home, bask in the glory, survive a little undeserved worship, and not for once think of the way how you could mess this all up. It's easy, so you can do it."
"Crane!"
The bird in question groaned. "Comin'!"
Lao watched as the frailest one of the Furious Five darted out of the boutique's door. The elder went back to his task of hiding his valuables, but he kept his ears open. He heard the short flaps of someone taking off and the delightfully enthusiastic whoops of one Dragon Warrior. He guessed they wanted to get to the field quickly, so they must have had the panda fly a bit too. How could such a slender creature lift and then fly with a weight like that was unsolvable even for Lao. Yet he knew the answer; Master Crane was strong physically, mentally and spiritually. He had just come face-to-face with it, and a lot of others already knew it or had an idea of it.
But Master Crane didn't, and that's what worried Lao the most.
The battle was… unexpected.
Most imagined the bandits to be ferocious armored freaks, with their face concealed and sharp weapons in hand, ready to use mindboggling tactics to gain the treasure they sought. They expected a battle of wits, where they had to test their teamwork and their individual skills. They expected their leader to be 'the big bad', the final boss that they had to take down together and stuff. Crane honestly would have been fine with these, at least those wouldn't have made him feel bad about hitting them.
Yes, he pitied his current opponents. While the weapon part was there, the rest was very much amiss. The valley's opponents were none other than filthy pigs in ragged clothing, handling anything from small pocket knives to long swords of great size. They reeked of alcohol, sweat and whatever mud they have bathed in recently. Only their leader, a robust swine had actual armor, thus almost looked somewhat more qualified than his goons. Almost, because Crane was pretty sure the dude was actually drunk. Like 'barely able to stand' level of drunk. Their plan wasn't something to kowtow before either; a one-sided, full-out assault.
That's not to say that they were a complete joke. The weapons were there, and the pigs outnumbered them by miles, so the possibility of overwhelming the Furious Five was there. Plus, they couldn't completely disregard the general either, he must have had some kind of rationality still if he was smart enough to attack the village at a time like the Summer Bazaar. Or at least, Crane wanted to think so. Hurting them certainly did not put a smile on his face.
But hey, against such a low skill enemy, the chances of him screwing up were next to null, right?
To summarize; The battle was half-drunk pigs running into the wall that was the Defenders of the Valley and then joining the pile of their unconscious comrades on the field unfolding before the gates of the village.
"Yeah! You will regret the day you even thought about attacking us when the Fist of Justice kisses your faces!"
"Po! Stop being dramatic and focus."
"Hey, if they get to smell like spoiled tofu, then I get to be dramatic. It's a way of distracting myself from the-"
"PO!"
"All right, jeez…"
While Tigress and the panda had their little back-and-forth, Crane was facing probably the only boar of the little army, its tusks dripping from a putrid bronze liquid with a very strong liquor stench. The avian's face creased up as his surprisingly tough opponent deflected strike after strike with his gigantic wooden shield.
"Of course I get the toughest pin in the haystack," Crane mumbled after yet another fruitless trial to get around that damn shield.
The boar's obnoxious laugh made him wish he was deaf. He would definitely take a long bath after all this, and his ear would be one of the main targets. Can you even wash sound out? He would see it later this day.
"Little birdie not stand chance to me. I crush birdie," the brute said, and the avian had to face the many missing and rotten teeth decorating that beautiful sneer.
"Oh great, and the grammatically challenged one. Please tell me your vocabulary is at least decent."
"NO SPEAK! I crush."
"Oh my heavens above."
Exception strengthens the rule and what not, he did not pity this character at all. And without pity, he really couldn't find a reason to mind his hits. So with that, he raised himself into the air and did a graceful backflip. His wings helped the flip become more of a circular glide, and as he evened out horizontally, he became nothing but blurry bullet. The boar held up his shield, laughing at yet another weak attempt of 'little birdie'. He did not expect half his shield to spontaneously blow up into splinters.
"What-"
But it wasn't over yet. 'Little birdie' took hold of the now uneven shield and ripped it out of the boar's muscled hand. After an energetic spin, Crane hurled the shield back like it wasn't almost as big as him, and hit his opponent's head with such force, the robust bandit staggered on his feet. And as the final stroke of this crude presentation of the Art of War, the boar caught a direct kick under the chin. The stars that teased him before now closed up on him, and the ground shook as he went down.
Crane resumed his beginning stance, but shivered as the sweat from the boar's chin crept down his feet. The bile was already rising in his throat, and only years of training and discipline kept it down. He very delicately rubbed his feet on the ground, and that bath sounded more and more inviting.
Suddenly, he heard a pitiful whimper from his right, so he changed the direction of his stance to face the possible new opponent. But when his eyes landed on the baby faced, pink-skinned pig whose features still carried traces of childish wonder, he relaxed. Not of relief, but because of the shock to his core by seeing a mere child on the battlefield with nothing but a rusty sword in hand.
"What are you doing here…?" the avian couldn't help but ask under his breath. His question was unanswered as the child raised his sword and darted towards him with uneven steps.
Crane's heart bled at the unbridled fear on those young features, telling him ugly stories of the past. He disarmed the kid quickly, mindful not to be too forceful, and threw the weapon far away. Their eyes met, and how Crane wished they didn't; the amount of despair going through their small connection almost caused a trauma for the avian.
"Hey."
The way said child winced was not helping Crane's rapidly falling mood.
"Where are your parents?" He always believed silence was the most cruel doomsayer. The one he got as an answer was the epitome of that belief.
"Do you… have parents?" He tried again, bending his long neck so the two of them could be on the same eye level. The piglet was half his height, but his neck was long enough for this task, fortunately.
The tears that gathered in those round brown eyes was all the answer he needed.
Crane, seeing how the quivering piglet started hugging himself, looked around the battlefield. Tigress and Po were handling opponents so fast, they could be measured in opponent per second. Mantis, being the one with an inferiority complex, was purposefully targeting the tougher-looking enemies, while Viper and Monkey were cleaning up the rest. What the avian also noticed that the battle was orienting towards the right side of the field and more importantly; away from them. Seeing that no one needed help, and no challenger appeared to fight Crane, he did the only thing he thought was right at the moment.
"Hey," he said with a smile. When the piglet looked up at him, he opened his wings and gestured to come closer. The piglet didn't move at first, too dumbfounded by the gesture. Crane could understand it, poor child was probably in this mess against his will. Without parents, the only touches he received couldn't have been savory, and none of those touches had his consent.
The first step was so small, yet it ignited the first flame of the bonfire that hope was. The wind has been a silent partner this whole time, barely rustling any grass or the piglet's baggy and torn-up brown clothing. That small, albeit pudgy body moved, tiny steps covering that barely meter wide distance between them. When he arrived in hugging distance, Crane's wings closed around those stiff shoulders that tensed further when the soft and well-cared feathers touched the tough, dry skin.
It could have been awkward, and boy, Crane knew all about awkward, had it not been because he was too busy with not buckling under the child's suffering as it gripped his soul. He may have needed this hug as well, not as much as the kid though. Almost right away, the piglet started to convulse, little sobs yanking his being as he let the streams of tears go, the avian just squeezed him closer. At one point, the pig started hugging his thin legs, but Crane didn't care. The sounds of the battle were only minor white noise as he shared the pain of a youngster who didn't get the life he deserved.
"It's okay, you are fine. You will be fine. I promise."
Stroking the kid's back, Crane suddenly felt a disruption of evenness on the skin there. He angled his head to look at it and had to seriously take a hold of himself not to choke on a sudden and misguided gasp; ugly red scars mocked him with their worrying length and depth. The avian's nose also caught an odor worse than the boar's and concluded that every single wound was infected already.
Which was terrible.
"Hey kiddo," Crane spoke up, not disconnecting their little union. The piglet's ear flickered, which meant he was listening.
"Here's what will happen; you go into the village and search for a place called 'Dragon Warrior Noodle and Tofu'. It's a big shop and its gate should have the face of the panda over there," There, Crane freed one of his wing to point at the distant figure of Po. He felt the piglet's head rotate that way, and after a small pause, he felt the nod.
"You will be searching for a goose in a hat named Mr. Ping. If he is not available, then search for Li Shan, looks like that panda but older. One of them will be there. Tell them that Master Crane sent you, and everything will go swimmingly, okay?"
His mind, heart, soul, and everything capable of translating and sharing emotions went overdrive when the piglet let out a wet whine and squeezed Crane's legs even harder, not wanting to let go. This resulted in the Master's throat to clench and a sob to escape him too.
"It's - it's okay, th-they will take care of you, find you a new home. I-I'll help you too, okay? But you have to leave this field and get to safety, all right?" Crane asked, blinking away the invading moisture.
"Promise…?" the piglet finally spoke in a weak whisper and Crane smiled down at him.
"They say a crane's promise is the steeliest one, and for a good reason too. Now go," he said and disconnected the hug. The piglet followed his example, albeit reluctantly, and ran towards the village with desperate steps, not once looking back, but who could blame him? A life without the many demons was literally in front of him, beyond barely one or two corners on the main road. Crane swiped some rogue tears from his face and beak as he watched the small figure disappear among the cottages and abodes, well towards Mr. Ping's restaurant.
The kid was safe.
He entered a state of tranquil where moving becomes a taxing, dislikable exercise, where the mind and body both agree on just taking in the intensified surrounding smells, sounds and sights as they recover from the recent emotional spike. It was a good feeling for Crane, he truly felt in balance at times like this one; even if there was a battle to be fought. It was good it came too, because his yellow eyes may have missed the swine general at the other side of the field otherwise.
And if that didn't rip him out of the trance, nothing would have. The general has been a raging, screaming, wobbling mess the whole time, who looked like a burnt dumpling trying to do Tai-Chi, just very loudly. But now, the dumpling changed professions to a very obvious usurer forming the history's most devious plan if that jeering grin was any indicator. Crane followed the general's line of sight and found something that immediately ripped his serene feelings into pieces.
To understand it, we have to know some basics of the village itself. It laid in the valley's heart, standing right on the intersection of three small streamlets as they intertwined to a river. These streamlets were Didi and Ge from the south, plus Guo Ren from the East. Once it was a great peninsula, but the villagers divided the land of that intersection, so the streams formed a great canal system, while they lived on the isles in-between the canals. Many colorful bridges connected these isles, bridges that lanterns lit up whenever night came. On the northern side of the village was the arch-enemy to the Dragon warrior; the Great Staircase that lead up to the Jade Palace. Except for the south, the village was surrounded by farmlands, also made into small isles and canal systems. The only consistent land was on that famous southern part, where the only road into the village laid, right in between Didi and Ge. This was the current aim of attackers; if the pigs got onto the road, they got into the village. But now the focus was on Ge, the bigger of the two southern rivers, the one that sustained the western farmlands.
And the one where a dozen of the enemies were using rafts to get over to the village from the side.
Crane has never taken off so quickly.
Flying over to the right side of the field, Crane has almost laughed; his friends decided that enough was enough, the smell had to go. So they started simply throwing their enemies into the slow moving Ge for a much-needed bath. This totally smelled like Mantis' idea, if Crane were honest. But no matter, he had friends to alert right now.
Seeing an enemy trying to sneak up on Viper, the avian twisted himself into a full-body kick, and the pig found himself flown over the stream and dragging a dirt line behind him as he, by the truest meaning of the expression, bit the dust. Viper looked back at the bird with wide eyes, who unconsciously struck a very stylish pose as his stony-eyes watched the swine for any signs of waking up.
"Wow. Cool," Po's voice said from the side, also watching the avian, start struck.
The panda's words shook Crane out of his focus, and he immediately turned to take up a back-to-back stance with Viper, covering each other's back.
"Guys, we have a problem."
Tigress, after executing a vicious series of punches and leaving her opponent dazed, turned to him.
"Bigger than this?" she said, tapping the forehead of the dazed pig, who gracefully fell over, out cold.
"Yeah. They are trying to get around by water. Twelve or so already got in the village."
"What?"
"Oh, no…"
Tigress turned to him, now with full attention.
"You sure?"
"Yeah," Crane said, stopping to throw an enemy over his shoulder, before flying up and 'helping' the bandit by roughly shoving it forward. He had stopped pitying any of them after the little piglet, "The general is suddenly grinning in joy. Makes you think, doesn't it?"
Tigress glanced back and growled at the dishonorable enemy. From the corner of her eye, she saw another pig jumping at her. As a response, she easily went down to a full split, the opponent flying above her head and crashing into the ground.
"Someone needs to go and stop them." She stated, her voice not asking for a second opinion.
Po grinned as he used his belly to stagger his opponent, who collided with another midair, courtesy of Mantis' kick.
"It's gotta be m-"
"I'll do it."
Crane's statement made even Tigress raise an eyebrow. The avian, sensing the surprised looks directed his way, closed his eyes and exhaled.
"It's… personal."
Tigress's eyebrow lowered, and her expression softened.
"All right. We'll tell you if we need you."
The avian nodded his acknowledgement and took off towards the village.
"On a second thought, maybe Viper would be better," Mantis spoke up wryly, "Guy looked ready to choke on his own spit."
Before he could get a reprimand or a congratulation by Tigress and Monkey on his wry words, the avian's shout from above interrupted both of them. "REALLY? THAT'S YOUR VOTE OF CONFIDENCE? FEELS REFRESHING, BUT PLEASE SHOWER ME WITH IT LATER!"
Mantis winced. "Damnit," to which Monkey let out a wild laugh, and even Po chuckled.
"Oh, you're gonna get it today, you bet!"
Mantis rolled his eyes and continued beating anyone who looked even close to dismissing him as a formidable opponent. The sounds of the battle couldn't overshadow the sounds of the bird's flaps, even as they constantly lowered in volume the farther he got.
"Man, wings are such a cheat," Monkey said, his staff readied for his next opponent.
Crane used mighty flaps to reach the village. Even if his wings felt weird and heavier thanks to the humidity of the summer rays, he kept his altitude. His eyes roamed over the streets, and it didn't take long for him to notice chaos on the northern part of the main road. The group of pigs surrounded a house and a shop, the sight made Crane wish he could growl. It was none other than Lao's boutique, and by how intertwined the shop was with the house, it must have been the elder's house too.
With ire surging through his veins, he nosedived straightaway, his beak aimed at the back of one pig holding a bundle of clothes of all color. Nearing his target, he twisted his body into a mighty kick that promised immediate damage to whoever it hit. The pig, upon receiving the hit, gave out a loud cry before hitting the ground, unmoving. The eyes of the surrounding people turned towards him.
"Hey, isn't that one of those weird fighting guys?"
"He is! Take what you can quickly, we'll distract him."
Crane channeled his chi into the tip of his wings and took on his fighting stance.
"Weird fighting guy, he says," he muttered to himself, "One would think it's easy to learn two one-syllable words, yet here we are."
He watched as seven pigs dropped what they had in their arms and took out their staffs and hammers. Illiterate they may have been, but they sure knew how to follow a plan.
Crane's opponents didn't waste time going in one by one. They attacked together like a trampling horde, ready to swarm and overwhelm their target. Said target tried to fight his brow raising in favour of remaining stoic and serious, but how could he, when his opponents were making this fight weirdly too easy by literally offering it on a porcelain platter. Crane shrugged and counter-attacked with his glowing wing, swinging in a circle, smacking pig after pig right on the cheek. The swing dazed the attackers, and the fight looked almost over when they all capsized like a boat on a blunt cliff.
After finishing his strike, he jumped backwards and landed next to a stacked pile of wooden boxes, that cast a shadow over him. He resumed his open winged stance, waiting for the pigs to come again. He was an unmoving stone there, his eyes just as hard and calculating. The bruised pigs on the other hand didn't react well to the chi-powered smack, clear by how they groaned and complained, some even started a heated conversation with another. They sure took their sweet time regaining their footing, yet Crane kept still, watching his opponents' every little movement. Patience was key, and patience he had tons. Waiting for the opposition to attack or show any exploitable weaknesses were his speciality, his entire technique relied on patience.
Finally recovered, the foul smelling pigs encircled Crane this time. The Master guessed it was for the sake of not getting into each other's way or get knocked out by a simple swing.
The attacks came, and now Crane had to actually put in some effort into the defense. While the pigs were coming, the master made a note of the ones that would reach him first and in what order. Two pigs, one from the front, the other from Crane's back arrived together in synchrony. The avian master moved, kicking backwards, hitting a jugular, and punching forward, hitting a cardia. The one who got his neck hit fell over with a very swine-like scream, but the other remained standing. Deciding to change that, the avian twisted, his extended leg hitting the left ear of that stomach-nursing pig, knocking him out effectively. The third attacker received the sharp end of Crane's elbow and ended up kissing the ground with a grunt. The next swine has arrived too with a long staff, but Crane sidestepped the strike of the weapon, grabbed said weapon with his talons, and used it to knock out the fifth pig coming from the side with a resounding smack. He dropped the staff, changed which legs he was standing on with grace, and kicked the staff-less pig square in the face. The last attacker arrived too with a rough sounding war cry, but before he could actual strike, Crane turned his head and struck the swine with the side of his beak without meaning to.
His opponents neutralised, Crane went back to his basic stance and just breathed. His panting shook his entire body repeatedly, even his well-practiced stance was aloof. One may think the fight winded him, but in reality it was just what birds did instead of sweating. It was still better than any other scenario.
Not wasting any time on minor things like heat, he searched for the other swines, that were stealing the belongings of the house and the shop. He spotted a total of 4 others with the same attire that the ones he beat, having different belongings in their hands. They had boxes of food, jewelry, clothes, even kitchen tools, and they were in a hurry to get out there.
Understandably so.
Crane was ready to intercept them, but the stack of boxes he was standing in the shadows of suddenly collapsed on him. He jumped away, but the boxes were far too gone and they crashed onto the ground, trapping Crane's left wing under. He sucked in a breath that came out as a hiss and began frantically tugging his appendage, trying to free it. His features turned into one of worry. He really, really, really hoped his wing wasn't fractured.
Out of the blue, another pig appeared from behind the boxes, and with a victorious grin filled with rotten teeth, he jumped on the Master and restrained him. Crane remembered now that he only fought six pigs, but seven of them took out their weapons at the beginning. The pig was standing on both his beak and right wing, making it impossible to move. He still tried to struggle, but the weight was too great. He could only watch as the rest of the bandits ransacked the two buildings and ran away with joyous cheers.
Crane didn't even notice the weight leaving him or how much time has passed while he was sprawled on the ground, until he heard someone say his name.
"Master Crane? Are you all right?"
The bird in question looked up to see a familiar elderly goose looking down at him with a cocked head. The most prominent feature Crane noticed was the wrinkles the other bird sported and the sad, maybe disappointed frown.
"Y-yeah. My wing is stuck though."
"Let me help you with that."
After helping the Kung Fu Master to his feet, Lao moved the boxes from the pile one by one. At one point, Crane could slide out his wing and free it finally. He gave it a quick look-over and sighed; it wasn't broken.
"Thank you for trying to defend us," the goose said, making Crane look up at him.
"I'm sorry for your belongings, I really wish I could have done more."
"It's all right. Nothing we didn't stand up from before."
Lao dismissed the conversation as he turned around towards the house, his house. Crane watched him leave, and he remembered a passing thought earlier this day about Po's heart being made from gold. Seeing the lack of friendliness from the elder, his own heart was more like a stone, with vines of amber encircling it.
Oh well. He was used to the amber-covered stone heart of a failure. The movement of the front door in the corner of his sight gained his attention, meaning that Lao was about to check up on his home too. With a disappointed sigh, he shook his head and readied to take off.
"GRANDPA!"
The noise of a child made the Master freeze mid flap.
"Hey there, you little rascal."
"Grandpa, they came into the house and stole a lot of stuff! They almost found me too!" Crane couldn't help but cringe. He didn't know what he would have done if they stole a kid too. Speaking of the kid, he must have been Xiao, grandson of Lao.
"But they didn't, right? Were you hiding?" the elderly said with a rough sounding chuckle.
"In the roof. They didn't come up," came the dejected reply, "They really stole a lot of stuff."
"Don't worry little one, we'll make do… somehow."
"You promise?"
"I promise," Lao sighed, "Now come on, we have cleaning up to do. We also need to see how much of the shop is still intact."
Crane only heard two sets of feet, one slower and one running, becoming more distant as the seconds ticked by. Yet he didn't take off. Frozen posture, save for his chest which was still in a rhythm, trying to cool the body of his, that's what he had. His eyes found his bruised left wing, still glowing faintly from the chi. Otherwise a beautiful sight, but now Crane could only see them as tools of a misfit. A misfit, that was him.
His feathered appendages went limp next his body. He used his taloned feet to reach up and tip his rice hat downward, shielding his eyes. He wanted no one to look at him and recognize his struggles against his burning eyes, fat droplets forming in those yellow pools. But at what cost, if he was destined to lose? His amber heart weighed down on him, like the inevitable rain on an autumn day.
Inevitability was beautiful, yet its ugly head was the only thing smiling at you whenever you met her.
As for him, someone who people love as a hero? Well…
He had failed.
"Hey Crane!"
The familiar sound reached his ears and made him look up, his eyes barely visible under the edge of the hat. The figures of his friends arrived, and he attempted to recompose himself. Questions about why he looked the way he was the least welcome at this moment.
"H-hey guys."
Damnit, he sounded totally broken.
"Oh wow, okay, tone down the enthusiasm, we may think you are actually happy to see us or something," Mantis replied.
"Are you okay, Sweetie?" Viper asked, slithering close to her friend, so she could look him in the eyes without the hat being in the way.
"Had been worse for wear, that's for sure. So… did we win?" Crane asked, trying to change the subject.
"Hell yeah we did!" Po exclaimed, "They didn't even stand a chance. After the big bad saw how his army couldn't get through us no matter what they tried, he retreated like a coward. It was easy as a noodle soup on the stomach."
"It wasn't organized as an army, it was more like a horde," Monkey muttered and was gracefully ignored.
"What's with the bodies?" Tigress asked, pointing at the seven pigs still on the ground, their weapons all over the place.
"Oh… well, I-"
"You took on seven by yourself and WON?! That's so awesome Crane! How did you do it?"
"I didn't really-"
"It's probably the boxes," Mantis pointed at the pile, "They seem heavy."
"Using your surroundings as resources to beat their numbers advantage," Tigress mumbled while stroking her chin, "Respectable."
Crane gave up. "Yeah, thank you."
"Well, I think it's time for your evaluation, students! Meet me at the gate of the Palace. The last one gets to help the cleaners tonight!" Po said, already turning on his heels and running down the main street. The Furious five watched him like the time he asked Tigress to play with his dolls.
"He… knows that the staircase is still there, right?" Viper asked while motioning towards the panda.
"Well, at least we won't be cleaning anything today," Mantis said with a shrug before hopping off after the panda. Soon the rest of the gang followed him, leaving Crane behind. Said bird shook his head slowly. This day was just the worst.
Suddenly, something caught his eye among all the unconscious bodies, boxes and weapons. Something white. He walked over and picked it up with his taloned feet. Much to his surprise, it was a wooden crane, painted exactly how he usually looked with the purple sash and the straw hat.
A toy resembling him that belonged to the Shu residence? Now how did that happen?
Oh, wait.
Oh.
"His name is Xiao. He simply adores you. Has a little toy of you, and I swear it's like the two are always together"
Oh.
…
Goddamnit all to hell.
He knew that he was walking into his own heart's doom, but that was the only right thing to do. To be honest, this day was already between hideous and an exasperated, sarcastic wonderful, so what's a little more punch for his already unstable emotional world? Maybe he would even get a grateful smile, before all that would inevitably shatter into little pieces of hate.
With all that in mind, he put the toy under his unbruised wing and walked up to Lao's residence. The door was open wide, so he opted to knock on the frame instead.
"Excuse me?" Crane cleared his throat, "Lao? I've got something you may like."
His reply was not the one he expected.
"Coming!"
Soon, he heard a pair of quick feet approaching. A small gooseling, around the ages of 8 or 9 appeared running towards him, before stopping with wide eyes.
"No way! Master Crane!" the kid's eyes positively shone, and it helped ease the numbness of the avian master.
"Hey kid. Xiao, right? I found something that might be yours," Crane said while stretching out his wing with the plaything balanced on it. The kid eagerly took the wooden figure and hugged it with all his might.
"My Crany! Thank you Master Crane, you are the coolest!"
"Heh, you are welcome kid, and thanks. Say, why do you have a figure of me?"
The kid looked up at him quizzically.
"Because you are the only bird in the Furious Five, and it makes me think that I can be as good as the others, even with wings!"
"O-oh, yeah? That's… good to know," Crane said, looking away. He had an itch to tip his hat again to shield his eyes. He expected Xiao's adoration for him, but to be so blatantly idolized to a point where he was the main source of motivation, that was a twist. This must be what Po felt when people expressed their worship after he became the Dragon Warrior.
"How is the shop by the way? It looked pretty banged up," he asked, changing the subject.
The kid immediately lost the spark in his eyes.
Uh oh.
"Well… those bad guys took a lot of things from here too, Grandpa is not sure how the shop will survive this month. It sucks it wasn't you who came to our help," he said, before he smiled up at his idol, "I bet you could have easily beat all of them!"
This day has officially surpassed the 'wonderful' level and fell straight down to abysmal.
"I… was actually the one who came to help. I'm sorry I couldn't stop the bandits," Crane said, though his apology tasted like venom on his tongue. The kid was still looking up at him, but differently than before.
"Wait… You were the one fighting with the bad guys out there? And… you lost?"
Crane kept silent and bowed before the child.
"It's… okay Master Crane, you did what you could. It wasn't your fault," the kid said, a little awkward smile straining his face.
"I… tried," the avian Master replied before sighing, "Good day."
With that, Crane tipped his hat in farewell, and began making his way out of the shop with a faster pace than he would usually have. He tried to think about the possibility that Po had probably reached the top of the stairs already, or the heat had gotten to him and he was taking a break halfway. Anything to erase that second of broken disappointment on the child's face.
"Grandpa!" he heard Xiao shout from the shop as he was taking off, "Can you make me a Mantis figure for my next birthday?"
Crane absolutely did not dip while flying, but his soul did.
Story Miscellaneous
#1:The Author would like criticism of all kind, as well as responses to the story.
#2:The Story would feature smaller character arcs for Po, Tigress, Monkey, Mantis, and Viper.
#3:The Author likes Crane's character and took it upon himself to make him a lovable, compelling, literal dork for the masses.
#3A:Asterisk for Story Miscellaneous #3: Or at least, he will try...
Chapter 1 Miscellaneous
#1:The original draft of Chapter 1 was supposed to be 3,994 words long, but then things went crazy, I have no idea.
#2:By the time Chapter 1 is finalized, Chapter 2,3 and 4 are on the works, with Chapter 4 being a mere draft.
#3:In the Draft of Chapter 1, The entire Boutique scene and the scene with the hog and the piglet were amiss. Lao and Xiao's character were nothing but an 'Elder goose' and 'Gooseling'
#4:The Erhu was planned to come in around Chapter 5, but for the sake of character building, The Author decided to put it in Chapter 1.
#4A:Asterisk for Chapter Miscellaneous #4: Oh boi, I have plans for that Erhu, big, big, BIG plans.