TW: Thoughts/references to suicide. Very vague references but still.

Oh look, bonus chapter. I never intended to write eighteen but I realized that I couldn't tie up loose ends with Shen through Min's perspective. Which is a huge duh in retrospect.

Chapter 18

Shen

Sit up, his mind told him. Mechanically, he felt his body obey his will. Today is one of the good days, then, he noted. The rush of cold air on his neck as the blanket slid down his back nearly made him drop back onto the futon, but he remained upright. Breathe in, breathe out.

Shen sat, eyes still closed, breathing steadily and thinking of nothing else. It would have been easy to stay in bed for the rest of the day, and on some days he did, but both the abbot and the Soothsayer encouraged him to participate in the monastery routines. Not that he had anything better to do with his time anyway, and pretending to be involved at least gave him a vague sense of purpose, so long as he didn't bother to think too hard about it.

He hissed at the feeling of the cold wood under his feet as he stepped out of bed. Blue morning light filtered through the shoji doors. Far off, a gong sounded to rouse the rest of the temple.

The Soothsayer met him, as she did every morning after dawn meditations, to give him breakfast. Today it was rice and pickled plums.

"I'm glad you're eating today," she said softly.

"I went through the effort of waking up, so I may as well," Shen replied.

He kept himself angled toward the right, hiding the scarring that ran from his face all the way down to his shoulder and arm. The feathers had never grown back there, and his right eye had never opened again.

"I wish you wouldn't do that," the Soothsayer said, cupping his face so that he turned toward her, but he shrugged her off.

"Why would you want to see that?" he muttered.

"You should not be ashamed of scars. They mean you survived—that you are strong."

He rubbed his beak, an annoying habit he had picked up from the peahen. Survived, maybe. But for what? He wasn't in the mood to discuss it with her. She would only give him that terrible, sorrowful look, and seeing that was far too visceral of an experience for his mental state to handle. Why be so sorry for me? Why still care, even now, when none of it matters?

"Lang is coming today," she tried. Shen only grunted, taking another bite of rice. She frowned at him. "And someone else."

That got his attention. "Who else?" he asked warily.

The Soothsayer smiled mysteriously, and returned the silent treatment. Dread filled his chest, clashing with the apathy. He hoped it would not be that panda or anyone remotely related to kung fu; otherwise, he could not have cared less. But to sit face to face with a looming shadow of his past made him want to crawl right back into bed and not wake up.

Lang always came at three o'clock sharp from the village, somehow arriving promptly on the hour with only his strange, innate sense of time to guide his schedule. So four minutes after three, Shen began to wonder if they weren't coming after all, and that thought filled him with a rush of relief. Fifteen minutes later, he left the guest room and wandered out into the hall. He stopped in his tracks.

Lang barreled toward him with his usual lack of subtlety, but Shen kept his eyes fixed on the guest who followed behind. The panda doesn't seem like such a bad option anymore.

"Shen! Sorry we're late," Lang began.

"It was my fault. I couldn't climb the hill nearly as fast as Lang," said the peahen from over Lang's shoulder. The sound of her voice made him shudder. At least the panda would have only been annoying. But of course, of all the people in all the world, Lang would bring her.

The dread had apparently found its way to his face, because Min smiled sheepishly.

"Lang, I don't think this was a good idea," she said.

"I never thought I would say this, but yes, the peahen is right. This is a terrible idea, whatever it is," Shen said, turning away to leave.

Lang touched his shoulder, and Shen paused. "Wait, Shen, can't we just talk?"

"About what?" Shen felt a wave of exhaustion settle in.

"About how it's been two years, and you've been closing off to the world more and more. That defeats the point of you being here!" Lang said.

"Might I remind you I never asked them to let me live," Shen said coldly, pushing Lang away. Lang recoiled, ears folding back.

"Do you not want to?" Min asked quietly.

Shen was silent for a while. "I don't know," he said at last.

"We don't have to talk, if you don't want to. But I think you should have company." Min gestured to the garden outside. "Are we allowed to sit out there?"

Shen nodded and led them out along the path laden with smooth white pebbles. Small pine trees bordered the path and larger blossom trees shaded them with their cool green summer foliage. Admittedly, Shen did like coming out into the gardens around the temple. There were subtle changes each day, whether it was the placement of leaf litter on the ground or the repositioning of pebbles and rocks, and these and the rest of the scenery were welcome distractions from the empty space of the temple rooms where his dark, jumbled thoughts threatened to swallow him.

He could tell Lang was having trouble being completely quiet, but Min would elbow him occasionally to remind him to be patient. Shen found himself growing curious, however, and debated breaking the silence to ask why she appeared out of the blue and moreover, why she appeared to be trying to help him. She could have vanished completely from his life, but she had chosen to return, and he hoped the reason was not pity, because he thought he might throw up if that were the case.

Shen examined her face, watched her settle on a stone bench, and found her face devoid of pity or anguish for him. If she tried to lie to me now, I think she would be quite convincing, he mused, observing her composure. And to his chagrin, his curiosity grew.

"Why?" he asked finally. He didn't feel like clarifying. In fact, the vagueness offered a potential escape from further interaction. Shen was still deciding which outcome he preferred, when she answered.

"Because Lang asked, firstly, and secondly, because I wanted to come. If he had asked immediately after our…conflict, I would have said no. But now that I've gotten to a better place, now that I feel I can see the truth of things and of myself, I felt that to refuse him would be to leave threads untied. I felt that I had made a commitment back then, in an odd sort of way. I'm not here to be a savior or to fix you, but I am here to help," Min said, twirling a fallen maple leaf in her fingers.

"How could you possibly help?" Shen walked past her into the shade of a tree.

She laughed softly. "I'm not sure myself, to be honest. Most likely, there isn't much I can do." Her gaze became distant in recollection, but the faint smile remained on her face. "I've learned that change has to come from the inside. It has to be from you."

But what's the point? Shen asked silently. It was what he had given up trying to explain months ago. There was no point. He had made his choices, and these were his consequences. There was nothing more to it.

"I went back home, a while back," she went on. "To see my family again. I was surprised they recognized me. I found out they searched for me for a long time, but eventually, they thought I must be dead."

Shen stared at the ground, eyes following the abstract patterns in the pebbles. "You went back?"

"I realized I was hiding from my past, and that was holding me back. Meeting you, in a strange way, forced me to confront it. My family has changed little. My parents are still quite insufferable, but…" She paused and looked at Shen, weighing her words. "In their own way, they cared about me. And my sister, I think she was the happiest to see me. Even if they hated me, or didn't believe that it was really me, I would still be glad I returned. It gave closure to an old story that I had buried away inside. I could start over, and I did. It was a new beginning. I allowed myself to be free. I know if I weren't as settled with who I am, my friends would definitely have tied me to the bed and never let me come here."

"New beginnings," Shen repeated. "Yes, that's one I hear a lot. Did the Soothsayer tell you to say that?"

"Not exactly. She only mentioned that to me a while back."

"Beginning of what? Freedom is not exactly a choice I have," Shen said.

"Maybe not physically. But you always have a choice," Min replied.

"Lecturing, as always," he muttered, and she laughed at that.

"Sorry, but you know I'm prone to frankness," she said, smothering her laughs with a wing.

Shen scoffed. "Only too well."

"See that's why I brought her here," Lang interjected. "Min knows how to make you think about things. I can't do that for you."

"I try to avoid thinking about things as much as possible these days," Shen said.

Lang stood in front of Shen. "But that's no good. You were always thinking about things. You never stopped talking about what you were thinking. Now you're just…not. It's like you're slowly vanishing. I'm trying to stop that, you know. I don't want you to disappear!" Lang's breathing shuddered after his outburst. Shen stood rigid in his spot.

"I want to fix this. I want to make it better. I've been at your side for your entire life, practically. This hurts me too." Lang rubbed the shoulder that had been injured by Shen's ruptured rifle, and Shen recalled that night when everything went up in flames. Because you're my friend.

"I'm trying everything, but you won't talk. I can tell I'm doing everything wrong but you just won't talk to me, so I don't know what to do," Lang said.

Shen's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, Lang. Neither do I."

Min broke the silence. "It won't be easy. And it will take a long time. But you aren't alone. You never were."

"I just…" Shen let out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. "I don't see a point."

"That's the hard part. You can't really look for it. You have to decide that for yourself." Min got up from the bench and walked over to where he and Lang stood. "Day by day," she said.

"Please, just try, Shen," Lang said. "We can do it together."

Shen let his eyes crack open, and he stared at his loyal companion in exhaustion. "Like old times?"

Lang nodded with a sad smile. "Yeah."

Shen's neck craned from fatigue. "Fine," he sighed. "For you, I will try."

Min had been right again. It was not easy. It was the polar opposite of easy. Waking up and remembering to breathe and eat had been hard enough, but trying to reengage with a world he had long since given up? It felt like ripping skin off. Not that I don't know what that feels like, he thought, running a hand down his scars.

Still, it was feeling something, he thought, as he twirled a staff in the temple dojo. The monks obviously wouldn't let him around anything sharp, but martial arts were an excellent form of meditation, so they allowed him to practice with something more blunt. Min was adamant that he take up some sort of activity to occupy his mind, and Lang had reminded him of his tendency to train away his frustrations, so this seemed as good an option as any.

His sparring partner struggled to keep up, and Shen vaguely realized he hadn't lost form. His partner's staff clattered to the floor for perhaps the fifteenth time, and Shen watched as the young fox persistently picked it up with the same stoic determination to improve as the first time. Persistence—that's what it was about. On the twentieth bout, the fox finally disarmed him, whiskers twitching in quiet triumph that he did his best to smother. Eventually, there would be a breakthrough. That's what Shen had to hope. In any case, he still had a promise to keep.

"I think what was most fascinating about India is how many peafowl there were, and of all sorts." Min was telling another one of her travel stories. She journeyed far out of the Valley of Peace once a month or so to visit. Apparently her friends had finally come to terms with the fact that she was helping him move forward.

She continued, "There were so many different animals there who I had never seen before. I liked to listen to their stories."

"We were in India too for a while," Lang said, referring to their long exile. "I remember it being hot."

Min laughed. "That can't be the only thing you remember!"

"I don't remember much either, to be honest. I was so fixated on my goal," Shen said. The three of them sat in their favorite spot in the garden.

"That's kind of sad. It's a beautiful place," Min said.

"Then say more," Shen replied.

So she continued. Most of her stories involved the lives of other people she had met, and though few were fraught with drama, they still fascinated Shen. If he wanted drama, all he had to do was reminisce. People living normal lives were most appealing to him.

The Soothsayer later joined them, bringing a tray of tea and rice cakes, and sitting on the bench beside them. The stars were coming out, so they lit the garden lanterns and refused to retire indoors, even as the air grew chillier.

Shen gazed upward as the laughter of his companions floated through the air. All my life I've been searching outside of myself for purpose. It's no wonder I never found it. He still had no idea what that purpose was, but he had made a promise that he would try his best to find it.

There were always bad days, but there were also good days too, and on neither was he ever alone. His companions—no, his friends—were now looking at him with concern and asking him if he was all right. Shen shook himself out of his daydreaming. I am not alone, he thought, and for the first time in a long time, Shen smiled.

So there you have it! It's finally done. Phew!

Ultimately, my hope with these last two chapters was to a) Give Min a chance to separate from her trauma and have the space and time to come to terms with herself first before she tries to help anyone and b) Have Shen end up in a place not of complete healing but of acceptance that it's worth a shot to try.

I really hope I treated depression and trauma as respectfully as possible.

Overall, I'm pretty pleased with how this story developed. It was quite an adventure. I'll try to be more diligent in the future...Thanks everyone!

Edit (8/19/13): Oh god I'm sorry, I think I've confused some people. This was the concluding chapter actually. I have a couple of bonus/deleted scenes to add, which is why the story is not marked as Complete in the archives, but the main storyline is finished. Shsdafjdklg I probably shouldn't have updated when I was sleep deprived. Sorry!

Another note, I guess: I may or may not write a follow up collection of one-shots/drabbles about life after MoBaW. Depends on my motivation and you guys' demand.