12. Guan
"It will do no good."
Master Monk Guan's voice scrapes across Kimiko's brain like a cheese grater. She has to forcibly unclench her fists before turning to look at him, and leaves the scroll on her bedroll because she can't trust herself not to accidentally drive her fingers through the fragile paper by gripping too hard. "Excuse me?"
"It is admirable, your quest to find answers, but you cannot change fate."
"Done it before."
"I am not trying to vex you, Kimiko." He crouches down, removing his psychological height from the equation. He doesn't clasp his hands but he does lower his eyes. It as much an admission of shame as she's likely to get.
And vex? Who even uses that word anymore?
Master Monk Guan gazes at the end of her futon. "I am simply trying to make you appreciate the reality of the situation -"
"Look, I've already been through this with Master Fung – and Dojo. Nothing they said dissuaded me – or Clay, so stay away from him too. Nothing you can come up with will make us stop trying. We're Xiaolin. The handbook says we have an obligation not to give up."
That's not a smile. Not even close. "Ah. I had forgotten the handbook."
"Glad you're not my master, then." The venom in her voice is genuine.
"Are you transferring your former hatred of Dashi onto me because I forced you to recognise what he did for you?"
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"That. Getting all armchair psychiatrist. I don't need to have someone to hate."
"So why are you being so hostile?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you waited until everyone left for dinner so you knew I'd be alone, so you could come in here and have the greatest emotional impact telling me it's hopeless and I should just lie down and die?" She had an attack of the invisibles that robbed her of her appetite, so she stayed behind to pore over some scrolls that aren't written in such ancient Mandarin she can't understand it. Clay was reluctant to leave her; he's just as vehement to work at finding a solution to their problem, but she told him to go eat in case he has an attack too. He needs to keep his strength up.
Master Monk Guan shakes his head. The light from her candle reflects off his bald pate. He's shinier than Master Fung. Perhaps he uses polish. "I don't think you should do nothing. Far from it."
"What? But you said -"
"It's what you do do that concerns me."
"Huh?" She's nonplussed.
"Do something, but be careful what you do." He pulls out two scrolls and hands them over. The paper of the first is narrower than hers, but the roll thicker, many pages tightly wrapped and beribboned. There's no way it's as old as the other. The ribbon is purple and shiny and screams 'gift shop'. The other scroll is old and looks familiar, but then again all ancient scrolls start to look the same after a while.
She takes them gingerly. "What are these?"
"I do not wish for you and Clay to simply vanish without trace. That is, your Clay. The Clay who was not here, in this universe, before you arrived. Because he was with you. Arriving. While Clay, the Clay that I know and have trained was here. Not waiting, but ... uh…" For a second he looks as stumped as she feels. "Raimundo is correct. Demarcations in this situation are indeed difficult."
"We're doing fine." Big fat lie, right there. There's no such thing as 'doing fine' for them. There's perfect, or there's wrong.
Master Monk Guan meets her eyes and she looks away.
"I wish for you to stay as much as you do."
"So why are you being so defeatist? You're Master Monk Guan. You're good at the impossible odds thing. You've survived for thousands of years where you should've died - oh!" A hand flies to her mouth. That came out so wrong and hurtful, and she actually cares that she might've hurt his feelings.
In that instant she knows she doesn't hate him, not the way he probably thinks she does. She's just terrified of what'll happen if she doesn't try beating the odds, and that's all he seems able to tell her to do. Still, telling a guy he should've snuffed it years ago is possibly not the best way to get him to make with the positive.
"You are correct. I have seen several ages of man – more than I perhaps should have. As such, it is not my place to say where and when others should live or die. But I do not say what I say because I am making that judgement. I used the Golden Tiger Claws to return to my own temple to consult my library. I have collected texts from many civilisations and cultures, and I have more references to interdimensional travel than the Dragon and Crane Temples put together. None of them have a viable answer that would not do more damage than they would solve."
She glares at him. "It's not hopeless. It's not."
He stands up. "Read the scrolls. Then make your decision."
"I already know our decision. No dumb scrolls are going to change that unless they contain a way I can fix this. Do they?"
He just looks at her.
"I didn't think so."
"Read the scrolls, then make your decision." He turns to leave, but pauses. "I am ... glad it was our world you two came to."
It seems as if he's about to say something more. She waits.
His feet make no sound as he pushes the curtain aside and leaves her alone, gripping the two rolls of paper.