Disclaimer: We've been over this, I dun own it. Stop pestering me about it or I'll sick the llamas on you. Yes, llamas.
Haven't been feeling well lately. Despite getting a flu shot, it seems I have no immunity from the common cold (damn it). To add icing to the cake, I get to have all four wisdom teeth removed on Monday. Well, at least I'll have Kung Fu Panda on DVD to help speed along my recovery. :D
FYI: The cold remedy mentioned in this first part actually exists…sorta. One of my old college buddies wasn't afraid of taking risks, and one of those risks resulted in a bad cold. Long story short, he thought that since chicken soup, Vitamin C, garlic, and hot peppers are all supposed to fight a cold, and taste good on their own, theoretically, if you mixed them together it would not only beat the cold, but it would actually taste good. (This is a guy who almost overdosed from table salt, for cripe's sake).
I tried a drop of it. I don't recommend it. Tigress' reaction was MY reaction after a drop—a DROP—of that vile stuff. God-awful as it was, damned if his cold wasn't gone two days later. I'm sticking to my chicken soup, thank you very much.
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Memoirs of a Master
Chapter 6
Po snickered to himself the next morning as he was making breakfast. Snow was only just starting to fall again, little specks of white crystals dancing an intricate ballet on the wind as they gracefully fell to the earth. It wasn't officially the winter season yet—they still had another couple weeks to go—so this snowfall was uncharacteristic for their region. While Po appreciated the beauty of the trillions of ice crystals veiling the landscape under a sheet of white, he contemplated what they had learned yesterday about their master…
The door to the kitchen opened, and he was surprised to find Tigress there, a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. She looked dead tired.
"Hey, you okay?"
She sniffed, "Fine…"
"Sounds like you got a cold."
"Ngn…" she groaned, sitting down, hugging the blanket closer, practically burrowing under it.
Po sighed, "I tried telling you that training last night was a bad idea…"
"Shut up."
"Just sayin'…you weren't dressed warm enough, with that sleeveless vest and linen pants…"
"I don't need a lecture from you, panda," she snapped, then sneezed violently. "Ah…ACHOO! Guh…" she groaned again.
He handed her a napkin, which she accepted gratefully. The panda took pity on the tiger, and started making a special breakfast.
"What're you doin'?" she said with a cold-induced slur in her tone.
"Makin' ya somethin' to fight the cold. Dad used to make this every time I got one. It'll warm you up, too."
She sniffed, inwardly groaning when she realized her sinuses were seriously clogged. "That's if I can taste it…"
He smirked evilly, "Oh, you'll taste it alright…"
Tigress flicked her eyes over to watch him, her inborn feline curiosity overcoming her instinct to crawl back to bed. A simple porridge, with slices of dried apricots and a handful of dried berries—hmm, not bad—and honey to soothe her throat. Tigress smiled; alright, she couldn't complain about… Why is he adding so much honey?
Her thoughts were interrupted when the other Five had came into the kitchen—and gave their condolences to their leader for her illness. Breakfast was served up; Tigress never got the chance to watch Po finish her special meal. Po had added some licorice root and preserved orange slices to flavor the rice porridge for everyone else, a creative gamble that paid off. For Tigress, however, he set a different kind of dish…
"This had better work…" she groaned, her voice betraying the severity of the congestion in her nose.
"Try it, it'll warm you up, soothe your throat, and clear up your sinuses, too."
Initially unsure, Tigress tried one bite. Well, that wasn't so bad. A little sweet, slightly tangy, the consistency of a thick cream, it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. By the tenth bite, she felt the reaction. She reacted quickly, eyes wide, startling the others as she grabbed the tea pot and practically poured its contents down her throat. Her face was flushed, and she was gasping for breath.
"What…the hell…is this?!" she glared at Po.
The panda smirked, "It's the same porridge that everyone else is having…only with some honey, ginseng, lemon, couple cloves of garlic…"
"Garlic?"
"And five crushed chili peppers," Po smiled.
Well, that explained her burning mouth. Surprisingly though, the cream-like honeyed porridge did soothe her throat…and the ginger-chili pepper combination had certainly cleared up the nasal passages. "I…I can't believe that worked."
"What'd I tell ya? Works every time. So…" he looked around the table and smirked, "Shifu was a real horndog."
Monkey sputtered out laughing, quickly joined by everyone else; Tigress was having difficulty forcing back a smile.
"I was a little worried there," Mantis admitted. "I mean, not that there's anything wrong with being gay, or anything…"
"Glad to know he's straight, nonetheless," Crane said, letting out a sigh. "Again, not that there's anything wrong with that…Just makes it a little less awkward."
"Oh come on—does the idea of him being gay really make you guys that uncomfortable?" Po asked.
He was met with dead silence. "Oh."
"Well, not exactly," Viper said. "I mean, yeah, we heard all those things about homosexuals, too. But, we've never met anyone who was…you know…"
"But Li was…is…I dunno," Po reasoned. "And we all like him right?"
"In some ways, we're getting to know him like Shifu knew him," Crane began. "So, when you think about it, we're seeing Li as a person, like anyone else, and not as a homosexual…did that make any sense?" he asked, sounding a bit worried.
"Yeah, actually," Tigress said, still eating the special porridge. "It did. It seemed like Li didn't ask to be that way…"
"So, what're you saying?"
"I don't know!"
Po said, "Maybe he was born with it?"
"I highly doubt that you can inherit something like that from your parents." Mantis paused. "Maybe a second cousin twice removed…"
"Huh?"
"I had some weird cousins."
Po rolled his eyes. This was guaranteed to be an awkward conversation no matter which way it went. Crane, wise as always, finally broke into another aspect of the conversation at hand. "Well, we know now that Shifu is most certainly straight…but did Ochir ever find out?"
"How could he not?" Viper asked. "He was around them all the time, and its not like Li and Ren were hiding it very well."
"How would he react? Most rhinos I've had experience with…well, they aren't very understanding," Monkey emphasized. Everyone nodded darkly. "I guess there's hope he wasn't like his father at all…"
"One can hope," Mantis said. "But what about Jian Qiang and Miao Li? They were involved together?"
"That explains why Master didn't want us to date anyone," Viper sighed. "He must have wanted to avoid something like that from happening."
"Yeah, well," Mantis spoke up, "no offense to you ladies, but I'm perfectly okay with never dating, or having kids…"
"Why's that?" Po asked. Viper leaned over and whispered in the panda's ear, then he blinked, "Seriously?"
She nodded. Po looked at Mantis. "Wow, it sucks to be you."
"Anyway," Crane continued, leading the conversation away from the mating habits of certain insects. "That last scroll raised a lot more questions. Like, who is this Zigsa guy, for one…"
"You think he's connected to Tai Lung, somehow?"
"Dunno. I also wonder how far Shifu and Song ever went?"
"Not far," Tigress said. "He's never mentioned her before."
"Maybe, if they did, they went south like Qiang and Miao Li?" Viper wondered.
Monkey sighed, reaching for the next scroll that he took out of the basket at his feet. "We won't know until we find out…"
It would have been more appropriate if the next morning had been tense like the air before a storm. Instead, we were all surprised to find Miao Li and Jian Qiang being civil to one another, and to my shock, Elder Brother was being nice to me as well. If this wasn't a bad omen, I didn't know what was.
Ochir, Li, Song and I could barely swallow our breakfast, we were so nervous. Song had an easier time hiding her emotions, but she was naturally gifted at that. Ochir's calm, straight-faced expression told me he was practically shaking on the inside. Li made no mystery of the state of his nerves at all. The bowl in his hand shook so much Master Jian Qiang needed to put his hand on the fox's arm to steady him. This did little to help, I noticed, because Li's defenses were instantly raised. Perhaps he suspected as I did that his old master knew his dreadful secret.
Oogway's eyes met mine across the table; I immediately looked away. He always had an uncanny knack for reading people, and I wasn't about to give my friend's secret away. It was Li's responsibility to talk to our master, not mine. And I wouldn't dream of giving him away like that; he trusted me, and I wasn't going to lose that trust.
Master Oogway bid us students to rise. We were to get down to the arena early, to warm up and prepare for the junior tournament.
The way the tournament was set up was relatively simple: the warriors already declared masters had their own day to fight, usually the first over a three day competition, and at the end of that day, the title of "Grand Master" would be awarded to the victor. Because Master Jian Qiang had been injured, Master Oogway dismissed us, so we missed the end of the competition to attend to his—and Miao Li's—wounds. We wouldn't find out until the third day who the "Grand Master" was.
The second day was devoted to the students of those masters, the ones their masters deemed worthy enough to prove their worth. Usually only one or two are chosen—Oogway had signed up all four of us. There were age restrictions of course. In the past, no one younger than sixteen was allowed; naturally, the lethally tragic tournament a decade before had this restriction. Since Manchuria, however, the rules had been changed to no one younger than thirteen, the official cut-off point between childhood and adolescence. To me, it seemed terribly convenient, but I doubted Oogway would have used his power in that way. But this was because the rules of the tournament had been changed so much for safety reasons that it enabled younger students to compete.
The rules were simple, honorable, things I eventually taught my own students: one, if you possess them, never use claws. Two, strikes to the head are to be avoided at all times, to prevent severe trauma. Three, never strike while your opponent is down; such a thing is dishonorable. Most of the rules were about duty and honor, and sportsmanlike conduct in general. Now, I will not deny that I had broken some of these rules while fighting in later battles, but sometimes one needs to look the other way in order to survive…
Over 200 warriors had come. A little over one half of that were actual masters. The rest of them were the students. So, there would be many matches taking place simultaneously, trickling down to one at a time as the day wore on and the finalists became clear.
I spied the chart that showed the scheduled fighters first. I was in the third place, after Ochir and Song, respectively, and I would be fighting someone named "Chang". I looked about at the other young faces—ages ranging from thirteen to twenty—and wondered who it could possibly be. The chart tapered off from the bottom as the names of the victors would be written in red ink, the losers in black, until the final four rounds, when names would be written in the top spots. I silently prayed to the ancestors I remembered, and any deities that were listening, that I at least made it to the top ten.
We took our seats around the perimeter of the arena, watching the first battles begin. Ochir was up first against a crocodile—it was no contest. Ochir won by a landslide. Across the arena I could hear Terbish hollering "That's my boy!" A depressing thought entered my mind—would my father cheer for me like that? I wouldn't mind so much if Oogway cheered for me, though I knew he wasn't the cheering type.
Song was next and as she took her position opposite a female antelope, Li nudged my shoulder, "You okay?"
I nodded, "I'll be fine, think."
"I'm really nervous," he confessed.
"Yeah, me too…"
Like Ochir, Song's battle was over very quickly. The antelope had to be carried off by the medics, Song whispering, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" the doe waving her off, saying things like "its okay, you won fairly" and things like that. Unfortunately, not every student was so humble and gracious.
I was up next. I sighed, standing and brushing off my short robe. All students wore white homespun clothes, and mine were no different. When I saw my opponent, I froze. He was a tiger. A big tiger. He looked as surprised to see me as his opponent as I was to see him. He turned to the referee, "Are you sure this is the kid I'm fighting?"
The referee nodded, "You are Fu, student of Grand Master Oogway, right?" he confirmed.
"Y-yes, I am," I said, doubting my ability to speak. My first battle was against a tiger? I looked over at Oogway, who only smiled at me, winking once. He held up his hand, index claw and thumb an inch or so away from touching each other. I understood.
We bowed to Oogway, and then to each other.
The referee explained the rules: "Nothing below the belt, no head wounds…" and a whole slew of others to ensure our safety. "You have three strikes. The first person to make three confirmed strikes on their opponent wins. Understood?"
"Yes sir," we both said.
"I won't go easy on you," he said.
"I don't expect you to," I said.
With the dropping of a white flag, our match began. I ducked as he threw a punch, flipping back, then somersaulting forward to avoid his other strikes. I slid between his legs as he punched straight into the ground where I had been standing just seconds prior. Okay, he was fast. I just needed to be faster.
He punched down, his fist landing between my feet, and I struck my first blow with a firm uppercut. Strike one. He staggered back, but quickly got back up and came at me again. People were yelling at me, but I couldn't hear them; I was too focused on what I was doing.
His leg collided with my side, sending me flying a short distance. I inwardly cursed, it was his first strike. I was not going to lose this early in the game. I followed his movements, monitoring his habits, and learned quickly he would bite his lip before attacking. Most fighters don't realize how an expressive face can mean the difference between victory and defeat.
He struck me again in the shoulder. Strike two for him. He jumped high into the air, ready to bring his foot down on top of me. I jumped out of the way just in time, jumping away to avoid his strikes. He was utterly ferocious, and I was starting to think I could very well lose. I ducked between his legs again, leapt up and swung a roundhouse kick into his shoulder, knocking him to his knees. When I landed, I had very little time to catch my breath. I needed to take him down, and fast.
I heard my father yelling, Second Brother and Uncle joining in. "Take him down, Fu!" "C'mon, get him!" "You can do it, son!"
That's when it hit me. The bath!
I swung my leg out, and the tiger blocked it. Before his fist collided with my chest, I forced myself up, quickly running along his arm like I had run along the rafters of my childhood home, then flipped over his head.
I heard him coming after me, and just before he struck, I crouched down low and leapt high into the air. Below me, he looked perplexed, until I fell back to earth, delivering a swift kick in the middle of his back.
He fell, and the crowd roared. I had won. The referee lifted my arm to signal victory as I struggled to catch my breath. The tiger slowly got up; I bowed to him, and he bowed back, sighing with defeat.
I just nodded and walked off the arena floor, joining Song and Ochir. The latter punched my arm, "That's what I'm talking about!"
The day progressed quickly, and before long it was well after the lunchtime hour. Though tired, neither of us ate much, opting instead for something called "trail cakes" that Master Oogway gave us when we went on long hikes for training. I nibbled on mine from time to time while I rested between battles. By midday, most of the students had been eliminated, and now we were in the semi-finals with 50 of us to go.
Ochir was consistent in his victories, but also his style. He at least listened when I warned him of later opponents catching on to his tactics. "Don't worry so much. I'll switch it up depending on who I fight."
Many of the male students by now had seen what Song was capable of, and while the first few she faced had laughed at her for being a girl, the rest learned from the unfortunate ones' mistakes. When Song's next opponent was announced, I watched a pale-faced boar meet her on the arena floor. Ten seconds later, Ochir and I dodged as the boar was thrown in our general area.
"Song's kickin' ass today," Ochir smirked.
"Good," I smiled, taking a drink of water. "How's Li doing?"
Ochir nodded over to the far corner, "Holding his own. After this last round, we start using weapons."
This was also a safety concern. Oogway was resolute against any child getting hurt in this competition. Apparently, in Manchuria, a good third of the dead were youngsters just like us. Starting with unarmed combat early on was to ensure the less experienced weren't seriously wounded or killed. The more skillful—usually older—students were the ones to make it to the final rounds.
Ochir suddenly gasped, shaking me. "I don't believe it!"
"What? What?" I asked. Then I saw.
Zigsa.
"What the…?"
"He's too old to be fighting in this part!" Ochir hissed, "What is he doing?"
A defeated gorilla sitting close to us with an arm in a sling explained, "Don't you guys know? He's nineteen."
Our jaws dropped. Zigsa…the warrior who had beaten—and nearly killed—Master Jian Qiang…wasn't even a master yet? He was nineteen years old?!
"He looks older."
"It's 'cause he's bigger," a crocodile nearby said. "I didn't think it was fair to hit a blind guy…" he pointed to his black eye and multiple bruises on his upper body, "You can see how that worked out."
"So he's legal to fight in this round?"
"But how was it legal for him to fight yesterday?" Ochir asked. "He should have been disqualified for that. And didn't he withdraw?"
"Technically he's old enough to fight in both," an antelope said. "And he withdrew from the adult competition. But he's really close to being named a master."
"He might as well be!" the croc continued. "Did you hear about that peasant uprising he quelled? He didn't even raise a finger, they were so scared!"
"That's not what I heard," a frog said. "I heard he was behind the uprising, against a cruel, corrupt magistrate."
"Truth is," a smart-looking young lion said. "No one really knows who he is, or what he does. No one really knows how he became blind, or why he fights injustice…he's just a living legend, I guess."
"You all fought him, didn't you?" Ochir deadpanned.
They all nodded.
This new information was both exhilarating and troubling to me. Who was this Zigsa, and what did he truly stand for?
His battle ended around the same time Song and Li's did. In no time at all, with the next battles Ochir and I fought, the competition was down to twenty-five. The defeated students went to join their masters in the stands. We four students of Master Oogway were still in the running for the title of "Junior Master". The winner wouldn't really be a master, of course. It was just an honorary title that was carried until a new winner was announced the next year.
It was time to choose our weapons. Ochir picked up a mace, Li his quiver and bow with a knife in his belt, and Song chose her favored pudao. As for me, I picked up a simple staff. A few of the others laughed at me, but my friends didn't. Li smirked and Ochir tried hard not to laugh at the irony, whispering to me, "They'll figure it out sooner or later…"
And figure it out they did. I faced opponents that had chosen swords, spears, and various other dangerous weapons, and yet I still defeated them with just a wooden staff three times my height. I became so focused on actually surviving these fights that it mattered very little what the crowd was doing.
The sour-looking crocodile I had just defeated limped out of the arena and straight to a waiting medic. I paused for breath, moving to take my seat on the opposite side. It was mid-afternoon, and it had become so unbearably hot, Palace attendants had to raise a large tarp to cover the arena so the fighters and the audience could keep cool. There were multiple holes punched through, for wind resistance, I found, and a wide hole open in the middle, providing a natural spotlight in the middle of the floor. But it was still hot. When I got back to my seat, I tore my outer robe off, not caring who saw me bare-chested.
Song suddenly landed at my feet, startling me. She growled, grabbed my shirt and threw it in my face. "Put it back on!" she yelled, then returned to her fight. Well, I was perplexed, of course, but did as she asked, despite how overheated I was becoming, until her fight was over. She sat next to me, yanking the robe off my shoulders and handing me the ladle-full of cool water. She drank hers down quickly, gasping after. "That last one was tough."
"You've got two battles to wait through, you'll get your second wind," I said. "Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine…"
"She got in a lucky shot," I said, nodding to the disqualified opponent, a tall white tigress. Song snorted, then she shrugged, glancing at me, "I just got a little distracted…"
Today, I am fully aware of what she meant then. At that moment, I was still too focused on the fights ahead—and surviving until sunset—to wonder if there was a double meaning. "How's Ochir doing?"
"YEAAGHH!!" We heard an agonized cry from across the arena.
"I'd say he's doing pretty well," she quipped, after his opponent hit the ground with a loud thud. Ochir came over a minute later, shedding his outer layer, mirroring me.
"You look confident," I said.
"That last one was tough," he panted, sucking down water. "It was hard to get a read on him…"
"Snakes are supposed to be quick. It's a wonder he didn't bite you," Song said worriedly.
"I didn't get too worried—training with smaller creatures kinda helps me fight them easier you know?" he winked. "Which one of us is next?"
"Li," I said, pointing to the large chart. Ochir's name was being written as a winner as we spoke. There were three more rounds. I realized to my shock that I had achieved what I had prayed for: I made the top ten. If I didn't go any further, I would be happy.
"Oh no!" Song gasped.
"What?"
She pointed at the name of Li's next opponent. I felt my heart stop. His next opponent was Ren.
Ochir, not knowing why we looked so distressed, let out a long, appreciative whistle, "That'll be a good—holy crap!"
"What?!"
He just pointed and I winced—so did the rest of the crowd. Zigsa had been fighting against a tiger, and the tiger had jumped up into the air, taking advantage of the snow leopard's disability, and savagely slashed his claws over his face.
"HOLD!"
We all flinched, wondering who had yelled. To our amazement, it was Master Oogway. I spied the tiger's visage paling as Zigsa covered his bleeding face with his large hands. The look on Oogway's face was frightening; we had not seen him so displeased since…well, we couldn't quite remember.
"For the use of claws," he began, "…disqualified."
"What?!" the tiger roared.
Zigsa wasn't backing down just yet. He snarled, jumping up in retaliation, and let out a ferocious roar. Stunning every witness, he pounded the unfortunate tiger so hard into the ground that a crater formed around his broken body.
Song covered her mouth in horror. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.
Oogway's face was grim, he sighed and said to Zigsa, "Also disqualified."
Zigsa didn't contest this. He simply bowed to my master, sheathing his claws. There was blood on them.
"Gods in heaven…" Song gaped.
"That guy's more dangerous than a flame next to a powder keg," Ochir said. "He's almost killed two people in as many days! How'd he even get accepted here?"
I couldn't even begin to say. I was only mildly aware that Li and Ren's battle was beginning as I watched Zigsa be bandaged up by medics not too far away. He must have sensed my eyes on him, because he turned his face in my direction.
Song directed my gaze to the chart. "Just eight left. The four of us, Li, Ren, and two others…whoever wins that other battle goes up against Ochir in the second round."
"What about Li and Ren?"
"Whoever wins that one goes up against me, then whoever wins that goes up against you. After that…it's the final round."
We were all so very close. I had no doubt in my mind that Li was capable of great things, but close combat with a bow and arrow was difficult, if not impossible. Ren was equipped with a saber, and eyeing down his opponent.
I had full confidence in Li's abilities as a warrior. What concerned me was whether or not he'd be able to fight his crush.
Song seemed to be having similar worries, and it was our hope Ochir wouldn't notice. Though certainly more open-minded than his father, we weren't sure he could be trusted to keep his composure if—or when—he learned Li's secret. I wanted to believe it would be alright, but I secretly feared that he would do something unforgivable if we allowed it. For now, we would have to keep it a secret until we knew more.
Out on the arena floor, it was just Li and Ren now, the former biting his lip in nervousness, the latter breathing deeply, doubt flooding his features. Would they both be able to fight this? Or would they both forfeit? I chastised myself for thinking that.
No, if they forfeit, they would have to give a valid reason. And how well would "because I'm in love with him" go over? They had to fight each other, and either one of them would throw the match, or they would fight hard until it became too violent for words.
So, yes, we were only slightly worried.
Too soon, the gong sounded, and the match began.
Much like the violent fight between Jian Qiang and Zigsa, the two began by circling each other. Li's ears were pressed to his skull, eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his opponent, but I could see the worry there. His hands, poised to take up either the knife or the bow, were shaking; Ren's hand shook as well, one holding onto the sheath, the other poised to draw. I saw the look in Li's eyes as he came to a decision.
He started performing the kung fu forms we'd learned as children.
Had he lost his mind? This seemed to be the question on everyone's lips as the crowd started murmuring. Song, Ochir and I shared a look between us; at the judges table, even Master Oogway appeared curious as to the fox's plan.
Li got as far into the forms as the straight punch to the side, arching his arms in an arc over his head, and slapping a palm onto the ground when he made a move. It was so quick, the collective gasp of the crowd was at least ten seconds too late.
He twirled horizontally in mid-air, drawing an arrow from his quiver and firing off before landing in a crouch.
Ren's eyes widened and he unsheathed his sword just in time to deflect the arrow. Li was relentless, drawing another arrow while dodging Ren's attacks. The fox tripped the wolf with his bow, sticking the arrow between his teeth and drawing his knife to block the sword. Ren kicked Li's legs out from under him, the fox twisting his body until he fell into a split. The wolf wasted no time and swung the sword down, Li catching it at the hilt with his knife. He twisted his wrist just so, locking the hilts together and with a loud yell, yanked Ren off his feet and throwing him up over his head. The shock caused Ren to let go of the sword, and he fell a short distance away.
"Holy cow," Ochir said. "No offense, Yao," he muttered to the bull nearby who, stunned as we were, muttered a quick "none taken".
Li stood up, easily sliding into a simple battle stance. He threw the sword back to Ren, who caught it deftly. The dark grey wolf looked so flabbergasted I could swear he forgot to breathe. A quick glance to the judges table told me that Master Oogway just was as surprised as we were to see Li's skill. I smiled; all this time, Li had been holding back! But…why?
Li took the arrow from his mouth, and notched it to his bow. The fletch was between his index and middle fingers, those same fingers running up the eagle feather like a gentle caress. Ren seemed to notice this too, and visibly gulped. Li only needed to disarm him two more times before the match could be declared over.
Ren charged again, and Li back flipped high into the air, firing off one, two…three arrows in quick succession, while airborne! Ren barely dodged each one. Li landed and fired another; when Ren twisted his upper body to avoid it, the arrow flew right through the material of his sleeve.
The crowd gasped; we gasped. Ren got over this quickly, swiping his blade—Li jumped up and landed on the flat edge of it, then swung his leg; the wolf ducked, which was what Li was counting on. The fox fell down, his foot colliding with the wolf's wrist, making him drop the sword again. Li kicked it up with the top of his foot and caught it in his free hand.
Our jaws dropped.
"Who's that fox, and what did he do with Li?" Song wondered. I was having similar thoughts.
Ren had just about had it, we could see. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realized throwing the match was the last thing he'd ever do. He charged, catching Li off guard. The fox couldn't possibly attack his unarmed opponent! And he didn't; Ren had counted on that.
The wolf caught the fox's wrist, twisting it so sharply Li cried out, then flipped the fox over his shoulder. Ren caught the sword and swung it, coming in contact with Li's knife. Ren twisted sharply, and tore the knife right from Li's hands. Li rolled out of the way as the sword pierced the earth too close to where he had been lying. He drew another arrow, but was dismayed to find Ren kick both arrow and bow out of his grasp.
They were two for one.
Ren didn't wait for Li to recover. To combat the sword coming down on him, Li tore an arrow from his quiver and stabbed up, a desperate attempt to scare off his attacker. It startled the wolf, but he caught the fox's wrist and twisted it sharply, the rest of Li's body following. When Li hit the ground, so did the arrow, which Ren quickly stepped on, snapping it in half.
Two for two. The next disarmament would be the deciding blow.
I couldn't tell you how long Song had been gripping my hand like that, or how long ago I started to taste blood from biting down on my lip too hard, but the fight was over sooner than we expected.
Li kicked, sweeping Ren's legs from under him, the wolf twisting his body to avoid falling on his own sword, and landing hard on his back. Li made a dash for his bow, falling as Ren grabbed his ankle. Li was at an impasse. He couldn't kick Ren in the face—like in a real fight—or he'd be disqualified; but he wouldn't want to hurt him either!
He did the next best thing, taking a handful of dirt and throwing it in his opponent's face. The fox scrambled up, grasping the bow and drawing out his last arrow, aiming as Ren got to his feet and charged him.
But Li faltered. I knew deep in my heart that he would falter sometime during this battle. He needed to fire that arrow at the person he cared about…but how could he?
Ren performed a hook kick, tearing both bow and arrow from the fox's grasp, then took the bow and tackled Li to the ground. Li hit the floor facedown, gasping when the wooden part of the bow held up his chin; Ren was straddling the fox's back, pinning his arms to his sides. Li was completely immobilized; the match was over.
While the crowd cheered, neither Ren nor Li looked particularly happy. Ren slowly got up, helping Li to stand and handed him back his bow while Li picked up the wolf's sword and gave it to him. They looked into each other's faces, expressionless, then bowed to each other, then to the judges before leaving the floor.
Li slumped down into the seat next to Song; she wrapped an arm around him, hugging him, "You were amazing," she said proudly.
"Yeah, Li'l guy, how come you never told us you could do stuff like that?" Ochir asked with awe.
Li looked up at us, completely astounded. "Honestly? I didn't know I could do any of that stuff either." He sighed and looked out onto the arena, where Ren had his arm held up by the referee, the crowd cheering him. Master Jian Qiang looked proud.
Ren wasn't smiling at all.
In quick succession, the next few battles were a blur. Song was defeated, then her opponent later on. To my shock, I didn't even realize I had won the second-to-last battle until the referee grabbed my arm and held it high over my head. I smiled; all I had to do was fight Ochir in the final round.
But there was a bit of an upset…
"What do you mean, you lost?!" I shouted, my voice rising a few octaves in panic.
Ochir was nursing an injured shoulder and elbow, which a medic was putting into a sling. "The guy was too strong, and too fast, I couldn't keep up!"
"What guy?"
Ochir pointed over my shoulder; I turned to look, and my jaw dropped.
He was a gorilla…a big gorilla. He was bigger than the tiger I had faced in my first match. He had to be at least six feet tall, perhaps outweighing Ochir by 200 pounds and me by nearly 800 pounds of pure muscle. There wasn't a single ounce of fat on his body. His fists were bigger than his head, his legs short, but terrifyingly muscular. And though he didn't look too bright, he had a certain meanness in his face that I didn't place until he saw me, grinned maliciously, and slammed his fist into his open palm.
My eye started to twitch again. "I am going to die."
"Don't think like that," Song shushed. "You've taken on Ochir before, this is nothing!"
"Song, he's wearing gauntlets with spikes in them. Spikes!" I emphasized. "One punch from that guy and I'm done!"
"Fu, come on, you can do this," she said. "Remember, you're small, but you're smart. Use his weaknesses and his strengths against him!"
"How?!"
Too late, the referee was calling us out into the middle of the floor. I grasped my staff, realizing my palms were clammy, and my legs shaking. I couldn't do this…he'd snap me like a twig…
Twig. Branch. Tree.
I took a deep breath and walked out onto the floor, standing opposite the ape that had four or five feet on me. Yet I was oddly confident. He sneered down at me, not even bothering with a battle stance, wielding his spiked mace menacingly.
And I was standing there with a stick.
I don't think anyone expected me to win that fight. I could be wrong.
The gong sounded, and the gorilla roared, "You're goin' down, small fry!"
"Small fry?" I asked. "That's it, that's all you've got? Come on, try being a little more creative…"
He growled and slammed his mace into the ground in front of my feet. I jumped out of the way, twirling my staff in one hand. I dropped into a low lunge, ready for his next move.
"You gonna fight me today, kid?" he asked. "Or are ya gonna run away like a little girl?"
"If it weren't for that tiger over there, you would be fighting a girl," I said. "And she'd kick your butt faster than I ever could."
"You sure like to talk, doncha?"
"This is nothing; I could talk your ear off if we were having an intelligent conversation."
He glared after the insult registered and raised his mace again. I jumped out of the way, standing on the top of my staff. He kicked at the bottom of it. With a flick of my toes, the staff turned like a windmill, hitting him hard on the shoulder, shocking him enough to drop his mace onto his foot.
When I landed back on the still-standing staff, he was howling in pain. I just sat on top of my staff as if I were meditating. Leaning my chin on my palm, I remarked, "Well, that could've gone better for you."
He growled and struck out. I jumped down, back-flipping and sliding a few feet away upon my landing. He struck up with an open palm, tearing my staff out of my grip. I jumped, using his open palm for leverage, grabbed my staff again and swung, hitting his arm hard enough to make him drop the mace again.
When I landed, I was panting, but not expecting the next blow. He had picked up the mace again and slammed it into my side. The crowd gasped in horror as I was flung back, my back hitting a pillar and sliding down to hit the ground. I could feel hot blood seeping out of the wounds in my side that the spikes had given me. This gorilla was deadly serious about winning.
I couldn't wait any longer. I needed to use my wood personality to defeat him. But I couldn't move.
The crowd was silent, and I could vaguely hear heavy footsteps on the ground. I stayed where I was, waiting, waiting for him to get closer…
He raised his mace over his head, letting out a roar.
I struck.
As if coming back from the dead, I kicked at his ankles, uprooting him. His massive body fell on top of me, nearly crushing me. Judging by the crowd's collective gasp and the sound of metal hitting the floor, he had dropped his mace. But I wasn't done yet.
Medics were called for, but I wasn't giving them a chance to perform their job yet. I know Oogway had taught me how to use my weaknesses as my strength, and to use my opponent's strength against them. I used every ounce of strength I had left, and pushed up on the body. I wish I could have seen that stupid ape's face when I lifted him off the ground.
Then I twirled him in midair like my staff, then with a flick of my wrist, I threw him down onto the arena floor. Jumping onto his back, I leaned forward, grabbing him by the nostrils and yanking back, yet still the fool had the gall to say, "You're still goin' down, small fry…"
That did it. I was not letting him have the last word: "My name is 'Fu'."
I yanked up hard, flipping him up off the ground and high into the air. I jumped up, delivering a roundhouse kick along with a loud battle cry, and kicked so hard, he flew outwards, slamming open the vermillion double doors, and falling down the thousand steps down into the valley. The doors leaned on their hinges, looking ready to fall off, and his agonized screams could still be heard as he fell, probably bouncing off the stairs.
I was panting, exhausted, holding my side and wincing. My vision got a little blurry, but I didn't care. It was clear from the cheers that I had won.
Wait. I had won?
"Holy…"
I had won!
The referee held up my arm, and the crowd cheered louder. I was absolutely dazed, but I smiled when I heard my friends' cheers.
"YEAH FU!" Ochir bellowed.
"You did it! You did it!" Song was jumping up and down.
"That's what I'm talkin' about, warrior!" Li screamed, cupping his hands around his maw.
Then I heard something that almost made me cry. My father, rushing out into the arena to my side, yelling over the cheers, "This is my boy! This warrior is my son!"
He held me up, and I smiled at him, "Thanks, Baba."
He ruffled the fur on the top of my head, grinning widely, "We're so proud of you, son. Come on, let's get you that prize…" he finished, helping me walk to the judge's table. But my vision was quickly becoming more and more blurry. I faltered in my steps, and I felt both overheated and dizzy. All I could hear was my father asking if I was all right, and Master Oogway calling out my name: "Fu!"
I blacked out.
I came to many hours later, lying on my back in my room. The air was thick with incense, and I groaned weakly. Someone's hand rested on my chest and I opened my eyes to find Master Oogway sitting by my side.
"Welcome back," he said with a beatific smile. "We were worried about you."
I tried raising my arms to greet him properly, but they hurt too much to move. One arm was in a sling, that shoulder bandaged as well. "How long have I been…?"
"Oh, a few hours at least. Everyone missed you at dinner, so I thought I'd bring you something." He noted a bowl of broth and plain brown rice mixed with pickled vegetables. He helped me to sit up, and gradually my strength came back to me as I ate.
"Master?" I asked after finishing the broth. "What happened?"
"You fainted," he said simply. "Probably a combination of your wounds, exhaustion, the day's heat, and not eating enough during the course of the day," he gave me a look.
I lowered my ears in shame, "I'm sorry…"
"Don't be, Small One. You performed marvelously today. I admit, I was quite worried to see who your final opponent was. I hope you can forgive me, but I had my doubts that you would win."
"Master," I replied, "How can I forgive when there's nothing to forgive? I doubted myself…"
"Yet you won."
I smiled, pointing to my bedside table. The acorn he had given me all those years ago was still sitting there. "I remembered the oak tree and the acorn."
"So you did. You also gave him the hardest kick I've ever seen from you," he chuckled. "And lifting him up like that—many masters complimented me on teaching you how to do that. But in truth I never did. You learned it from the scrolls."
"But you tutored me on those scrolls, Master. I don't think I could have remembered them…I don't know where that last burst came from. It was like…instinct, I guess," I shrugged, wincing and pressing my hand against my bandaged side.
"And it was your instinct that saved your life. Tiny and…"
"Who?" I interrupted.
"The warrior you fought. His name was Tiny."
My eye began to twitch again, "I battled a guy five feet taller and 800 pounds heavier than me…and his name is Tiny?"
Oogway just chuckled. "I thought you'd appreciate the irony of a 'tiny' 800 pound gorilla getting his tail handed to him by a two-foot-five-inch tall, 30-pound red panda," he winked. "It may also interest you to know that he and his master have been disgraced; they are barred from this tournament for life."
"Isn't that a little harsh?"
"Not when one of my students could have been killed."
I sighed tiredly and tried eating the rice and pickles. He could sense I was tired and calmly took the bowl from me when I had my fill. "That is enough for now…"
"Master, if I may ask…who is Zigsa?"
He sighed, patting my shoulder. "That's for another day. In the meantime…" he pulled out a shining jade medallion on a leather thong, and put it around my neck. "Wear your prize with pride. You earned it."
Just figured I should mention: "Zigsa" is a Tibetan name meaning (wait for it)...snow leopard. No joke. I saw it and I knew I HAD to use it. Why? Why not? God, I'm such a geek...
Anyway, please read and review!