"Look alive, kidlings! We've got a wu to round up!" Dojo slithered across the grass, scroll in hand, as he summoned the monks.

Clustering at the call, the teens took immediate interest as Dojo hopped to circle himself around Kimiko's neck and hold the scroll open. "Maybe not the most important one, but a wu's a wu. It's the Gushy Glass. Another one of Master Dashi's ideas of a party prank, it's a mirror that makes a person go embarrassingly gaga over whoever's reflection you make it show them."

"Pff," Raimundo scoffed with disinterest, "A lovey-dovey mirror? Lame. Do we really all have to bother going for this one?"

"Ehhh, well...maybe not..." Dojo began reasoning.

Jack cut in, incredulous. "What? No way! I finally get to go on a mission with you guys, and you want to sit out? Who knows who's gonna be there to fight? I've had a whole outfit planned for this and everything!"

Darting away, he returned in an impossibly quick flash, his monk tunic replaced with a small open vest sporting the Chinese calligraphy for 'warrior' on the back. He also wore hand wraps, a waist sash and a cloth headband with long ties flowing out behind him. Clearly he was feeling a costume theme today. He looked for all the world like a stereotype from a Chinese action film.

Silently, Omi found his eyes drifting for the bare chest exposed heavily underneath the red vest. Struggling to understand why, he felt his body temperature rise a few degrees.

Glances were exchanged between the others. Clay noted, "Boy, well, you sure are gung ho about yer new alliance...guess Ah'd hate to disappoint. Ah'll go."

Hemming, Kimiko relented, "I'll go too..." It could not be denied that Jack's enthusiasm was a bit endearing as he performed a giddy little dance hearing he'd have company. The rest of the group found the sentiment infectious, and with that, the entire squad found themselves flying out.

...

Standing in the middle of a barren dirt field, Jack had his arms folded in a firm sulk as Clay manned an ordinary shovel, digging a small pit as the others stood around idly. Within a minute, Clay had unearthed the object they were after and Raimundo bent to pick it up from the soil, blowing an unnaturally lengthy stream of air to clean off an ornate bronze hand mirror.

"Seriously, though?!" Jack complained at last, breaking the silence as he threw his arms wide, "Nobody showed up?! Could we have at least gotten to see an interesting part of Bahrain?!"

Raimundo glanced over at him with an off-handed, useless shrug. "Dude, you know as well as we do, sometimes it's nothing special. You pick up a wu, you go home." Glancing at the incredibly tame item, he offered it forward with another shrug. "Wanna carry it? Sort of a consolation prize..?"

Glowering at the wu, Jack let out a groan, but swiped the hand mirror anyway after a moment's disappointed stewing. "Still. Really? The middle of Dirtsfield, Nowhere?"

Dojo, still fully enlarged and resting his chin in one claw while Kimiko used him as a leaning post, defended, "Hey. Fifteen hundred years ago, this place was bustling. You can't blame me for where these things end up." Taking a deep breath and letting it out in contentment, he added, "Ahhh~. Always nice to not be allergic to a wu, though. Nice and uneventful."

While Jack plunked down for a further sulky sit, Dojo took another deep, appreciative inhale, only to suddenly scrunch his whole body and contort his face as he began vibrating. Kimiko stumbled away from him as he announced, "H-H-Hold the phone, gang..! It looks like we might not be done yet, after all!" After a few sharp jerks, he ended up sticking straight out as he locked onto a direction like a compass needle. "Okay, yup! Hot wu, fresh from the oven! All aboard that's goin' aboard, we're heading west!"

Standing with a delighted gasp, Jack thrust his fists overhead. "Yes! Mission's on, baby!" Eagerly he darted to climb into his personal jet parked nearby.

As the other monks clamored to pile onto Dojo's back, Raimundo asked hopefully, "Awesome. Where to?"

Sniffing the air, Dojo granted, "Dunno yet. But we'll find out soon enough!"

And find out they did, though the flight took them all the way across the ocean. The monks always counted themselves lucky they didn't have to stick to standard pedestrian travel.

Approaching the coast of Brazil, Kimiko looked back and commented that Raimundo must be excited. It was his home country, after all. He should be loving it.

Rather than loving it, however, Raimundo's shoulders slumped and his eyes slid to the side. The closer that coast had come, the more silent and apprehensive he'd become. Any other place in Brazil, he would have been ecstatic to see. He'd been hoping they would fly right past this scenery ingrained into his memory, ideally going onto Rio, but his heart sank as Dojo flew directly into the city ahead of them, circling in the air as he sniffed a bit more and then descending into the heart of Tubarao.

Dismayed as well, Jack called into his jet's external speaker system, "Hey, hey! Don't land without me!" A short groan. "Alright, fine. Don't go anywhere. I'll find a parking spot and meet you guys." His jet hovered for a moment in contemplation before turning to soar back for the beach they'd passed. That was probably his best bet.

As they landed on a wide wooden bridge, the rest of the group hemmed. Working out the travel kinks with their newest member was a little tricky, but when he couldn't ride Dojo, what else could they do but be patient?

Arms folded, Raimundo flapped his palms against his elbows as he let out a tense puff. "So, Dojo. While we're waiting, you got a bead on that wu or what?"

Inhaling deeply, Dojo swayed in all directions before offering, "Nope. Nada. It's here, but so are about a million other smells. And most of them not pleasant." In offense, he now clamped both claws over his nostrils and eyed a stroller skeptically as it wheeled by.

As Raimundo let out another dismayed grunt, his friends certainly noticed.

"You alright there, buddy?" Clay commented, "You seem a mite tense all of a sudden."

"Yeah, what's up?" Kimiko chipped in, "Usually you won't shut up about how much you love sunny beach cities, and now you're all business?"

Straightening, Raimundo quickly let his arms fall to his sides and brushed off, "Hm? It's nothing. I do love the beach. I'm just...trying to be responsible and stuff like that. Like we should prob'ly split up so we can find the wu and get out...and...maybe find some time to mingle a little." Distracted, his head swiveled to follow a dark-skinned beauty with long hair as she strode past in the foot traffic.

Having been studying Raimundo's face, sure he was hiding something, Jermaine now stiffened and his own face flared in offense. Marching forward, he protested, "Hey, yo, um...excuse me! I did not just see that!"

Leaning back, nose wrinkled in confusion, Raimundo returned, "What..? Dude, what's your deal?"

Hardly believing he was hearing that, Jermaine countered, "Don't play me like that..! What'chyou doin' ogling her?"

Only blinking in further confusion, Raimundo answered, "Uhh...'cause she's hot?" Since when did Jermaine care about playing White Knight? Maybe such behavior bothered Kimiko, but even she didn't react this strongly. Case in point, all she'd done was roll her eyes and scoff to herself, and now seemed just as perplexed by Jermaine's confrontation.

"Dude!" Jermaine fumed, "You really tellin' me you're gonna be chattin' me up this whole time, and then make passes at any old honey on the street?!"

Eyes inflating, Raimundo blinked as it all turned clear in an instant. Flabbergasted for a moment, blushing, he argued, "I didn't make a pass – wait, did you think we've been flirting for real this whole time?!"

At that, Jermaine's lips pursed and his cheeks burned, clearly hurt, embarrassed and turning livid to hear this. He was at his own loss for words and clearly thought they'd been on the same page.

In this small silence, Jack appeared through a Golden Tiger Claws portal, rolling to a stop on wheeled metal skates he'd made himself. Hitting a button on his remote watch, the portal closed, and he greeted, "Made it! Okay, what's the plan? What'd I miss?" Then realizing the atmosphere, he took a couple steps back as two sharp glares found him. The albino boy looked at the rest of the group, wondering how things had turned so full of friction in the few minutes he'd been gone. In unison, they all put a finger to their lips and shook their heads. This was between those two.

The two arguing boys facing each other once more. Raimundo's instinct was to save face and he defended, "Dude, I thought it was a game! I'm flirty, you're flirty...seemed obvious. Besides, I'm only bi by a ratio of like...90:10." A thoughtful pause. "80:20. But still."

Jermaine couldn't even express the hot burn he was feeling, his face scrunched tightly in swirling emotions. "You really – you couldn't have-..." Shaking his head, at a loss, the New Yorker could feel hot tears beading at the edges of his eyes and truly did not have the words right now. Feeling it was better to escape, wanting nothing more right now, he put his head down and darted past Raimundo and toward the end of the bridge.

"Wait, Jermaine..!" Kimiko was the one lifting her hand to try and stop the fleeing boy, but he didn't listen. With a disappointed note, the girl then looked to the others. "Well someone needs to go after him..!" Her gaze pointedly drilled Raimundo's cheek, but the boy refused to acknowledge it.

"Anyone..?"

Omi jerked out of the daze he'd been lost in. "I was not staring at anyone's chest area in particular!" He couldn't help it. Jack was just flaunting his bare torso like it was nothing. The magnetic allure it had on his eyeballs was just a little stronger than the dramatic tension breaking out between his other friends.

Kimiko scoffed. "Fine. Uck. Guys are useless..."

"Uh, woah! Kinda sexist," Jack shot, "I just got here..!" What was he supposed to contribute?

Palm hitting her face, Kimiko scoffed again. "Not..! Uuuugh. Never mind!" She didn't have time to explain her complaint. Instead, she darted off after Jermaine.

"Right," Jack supposed, "Sooo...I take it that means we're splitting up?" He looked to Omi, expecting him to want to team with him as usual, but surprisingly, the yellow boy flustered, turned for the large Texan and declared loudly, "Of course, Clay! I will gladly partner with you! Just because you asked soooo nicely!"

A silent Clay remained stunned as Omi pushed him off in their own direction.

Blinking, Jack thought it seemed like everyone was acting weird today, but shrugged it off, too excited about getting a shot at his first official wu-hunting mission as a good guy. Sliding up next to the stewing Brazilian, he slapped a hand around the others' waist and perked, "Alright then! Team Jackamundo it is~! This is your home turf. How about a tour~?"

Shoulders hunching in further defense, Raimundo looked at the pale boy and shot, "How did you know that?"

Confused, Jack's brow knit. "Know what? Are you not actually Brazilian? Everyone knows that."

Oh. He'd just meant Brazil. Raimundo let out a breath, telling himself to relax. Forget about Jermaine. Forget about where they were. Just do the job so he could get home.

"No, you're right. Sure, I'll show you a bit of local culture. Just stay close, and we are not taking the slums." Someone else could cover that area. With an air of finality, the brunette boy chose his direction to march away, aiming decisively for the more active, tourist attraction-based area of the city.

"Oookay," Jack granted, following, "Why?"

"Hey, wait up!" Dojo called, not wanting to be left by his lonesome in a busy area. Hurriedly, he slithered to follow as well, hopping to climb Jack and coil atop his head.

Gruffly, Raimundo huffed, "Because I'm in charge and I said so, that's why."

Jack shared a look with Dojo, and then put his hands on his hips, annoyed.

"Is this just about Jermaine? And, by the way, are you really telling me you're not into him? Because from what I've seen, I could've sworn-"

Tensing, Raimundo whipped around and barked, "I'm gonna start swearing a whole lot if you don't shut up and mind your own business, Spicer! You don't know diddly!"

Frozen in recoil, Jack clearly was intimidated by the outburst. Dojo had clutched Jack's scalp and ducked to hide behind his head, only peeking up from his cower.

Realizing how he'd snapped, Raimundo grit his teeth and backed down. Clenching a fist, he took a cleansing inhale before looking off to the side. "Sorry. I just...I don't wanna talk about it, okay? I just wanna find the wu and get outta here."

With that, he turned and started walking. Behind him, Jack waited until he was out of earshot to put his hands back on his hips and give his head a sassy swivel, remarking, "Well someone's a real buzzkill today. Now I see why everyone else was so eager to leave."

Drooping the front portion of his body to rest his elbows on Jack's shoulder, Dojo returned, "No kiddin'. I swear, you teenagers and your crazy mood swings."

Frowning, Jack whined, "Yeah, and now I won't get to have as much fun with my-" Suddenly perking and looking irate, he whisked his head toward the reptile riding him. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

Freezing, then sliding his eyes side to side, Dojo carefully corrected, "Nothin'." Maybe not the best idea to complain about teenagers to the most dramatic of the bunch.

Lower lip pushed into a pout, Jack just let out a short 'hmph' and trudged after Raimundo, feeling like his chances to indulge in the excitement of his first wu hunt on the team were dwindling fast. However, as he walked, his face slowly shifted into a considering expression, then a contemplative smirk, and then spread into a deviously wide beam.

Dojo watched this with growing concern on his brow. "I know that look," he scolded, waggling a claw, "That's a scheming look. What are you scheming? It better not involve me! I refuse to be implicated!"

"Re-lax," Jack waved off, but Dojo only tensed as he reached into his vest pocket to pull out the Gushy Glass. Smirking down at the mirror, the albino boy informed, "I just thought of a way to help out our friends, and make sure I get to have my fun basking in Xiaolin Warrior glory. Hua!" Sharply, he gave a couple of excited punches and a quick jump kick. Then his posture relaxed, he gave Dojo a breezy shrug, and smiled. "Win-win~..!"

Doubtfully, Dojo countered, arms brandishing, "I know he's acting a bit grouchy, but have you considered maybe just talking to Raimundo? Speaking as the only one here who actually knew Grand Master Dashi, I'm telling you, that wu is nothing but trouble. The guy had kind of a messed up sense of humor. Remember the Ants in the Pants?"

Jack flipped his wrist. "Yeah, but this is nothing like that. You said yourself, it's basically a harmless party trick, right? I'm sure it's fine. Besides, I'm not the one Raimundo needs to talk to." When he'd been having trouble coming to terms with his feelings for Omi, he'd always ended up speaking directly to Omi about it. What was wrong with a nudge in the right direction? Wasn't that being helpful?

Dojo quirked his brow. "You really haven't gotten a hang of this whole 'friend' thing yet at all, have you?"

In an instant, Jack's face fell flat and he stared silently at the other.

The dragon blinked flatly back at him. "...and you're not gonna listen to me at all, are you?"

Turning back to the mirror and holding it up in both hands, Jack simply gave a bright, "Nope~!"

…

Meanwhile, Jermaine was swiftly but aimlessly marching into an area lined with houses, hands stuffed in his pants pockets. The foot traffic was only getting more dense here, the homes practically touching sides, and street market stalls making it even more compact.

Behind the New Yorker, Kimiko was darting around others to catch up to him, giving the surrounding strangers a series of quick 'excuse me' and 'coming through' calls around the ones aimed at her friend.

Catching up to the moody boy, Kimiko grabbed him by the shoulder, and he stopped walking, but otherwise did nothing.

"Seriously, Jermaine!" the colorfully-dressed girl insisted, "You'll get lost if you just wander around by yourself! I know you're upset, and Rai totally deserves it, but just try to think for a second, okay?"

Jermaine continued to stare at the ground. He knew Kimiko was right. Storming off solved nothing, and he tried his best to go with the flow, not let his temper flare like it used to, but what could he say? Some things just hurt.

"...thought he knew how to read a room better than that," he said dully, still not turning to face the other.

Sighing, Kimiko's grip on the darker boy softened, becoming more of a consoling hand. "I know. Raimundo's preeeetty dense sometimes. And if I was dating him, I'd be pretty livid about his wandering eye myself."

Hearing her readily agree, and offer sympathetic jabs at the Brazilian, Jermaine finally glanced back at Kimiko.

Giving the boy a small nudge, Kimiko nodded toward a stretch of heavily graffitied wall out of the walkway. "Come on. Let's talk."

Knowing he could use it, Jermaine was grateful the gossip expert had been the one to follow him and obeyed, heading toward the wall. Leaning and adopting a sulking posture, he was listless for a moment, sorting through his thoughts.

"Did you ever date him?" he found himself wondering openly.

Surprised, not expecting that to be the first place Jermaine went, Kimiko held one hand to her gut and gave a short, sharp belly laugh. Quickly, she stifled it and waved her hand in dismissal. "Sorry, you caught me off guard. But uh...no. Actually, keep this on the DL, but I've been dating this guy Toshiro long-distance for a while now." As proof, she pulled out her flip phone and offered forth a picture. "My friend Keiko introduced us. He was in her acting club when she transferred schools." Just because she was a girl, or even because she might act affectionately towards her male friends sometimes, didn't mean she was anyone's romantic rival or ever had been.

"Oh. Cool." Jermaine acknowledged the picture of the admittedly cute sharp-faced Japanese boy with a nod. Looking back to Kimiko, he added, "I was just thinkin' if you had, you might have some real-real insight on what he's thinkin'. Dig?" He wasn't accusing her of anything at all. Hemming, he then launched into a ramble. "Like what's his deal, yo? You tellin' me he's been playin' this whole time? All that time hangin', feelin' the vibe? You know how many deep talks we've had since day one? Too many. And you ever see the way he smiles when he knows he got me trippin'?" Jermaine just couldn't believe after how close the two had gotten, that Raimundo had no idea how truthful so much of their flirty games had turned. Raimundo got so flustered when Jermaine touched him, as well. Jermaine couldn't believe that he hadn't been feeling something.

"Am I just trippin'?" he asked meekly, eyes imploring and dejected. The New Yorker had thought he'd gotten so good at reading energies and moods and such. Was it really him that had read the room wrong? Perhaps out of wishful thinking?

As she listened, Kimiko's face pinched with sympathy. "Honestly? I don't know everything going on between you guys. You look tight for sure. But who knows. Maybe you just spooked him. Or maybe he didn't think it was that serious. Like I said, Rai's...pretty tactless sometimes."

Frowning and slumping slightly when the other couldn't give him a solid answer, Jermaine hemmed. "Yeah. You right." It wasn't like he hadn't experienced that side of Raimundo as well. The boy could cross boundaries way too far before realizing. But like Jermaine had noted on his first day back at the temple, he was also rather responsible. So maybe it was just best to wait, let things cool, and have a proper talk like the one back then once they were home.

Standing upright, Jermaine closed his eyes and did his best to clear his mind with a deep breath. Prioritize. Let nature flow. Everything in time.

Opening his eyes back up, he offered Kimiko a small smile. "Thanks for listenin' anyway. You got a real cool ear for a hothead sometimes, you know that?" A soft chuckle. Venting just a little helped.

Kimiko snorted. "Gee, thanks." But she stood as well. Even if she feared she hadn't been the most helpful, Jermaine seemed calmer at least. "Ready to get going?"

"Yeah. First thing's first. Let's bag us a wu." And the pair headed out into the crowded street, only to near instantly collide with a spiky-haired boy running with a kite.

"Oof!"

All three collapsed onto their behinds in the dust. Kimiko coughed and was the first to look up. The boy they'd run into was wearing baggy grey cargo shorts, an oversized blue band logo tee, and a gold chain necklace, but his hung head looked incredibly familiar.

"Raimundo?!" Kimiko questioned, wondering when and where this wardrobe change would have occurred.

The boy looked up, face painted in shock. "Você disse Raimundo? Você conhece meu irmão?"

Seeing the boy's face, Kimiko and Jermaine both had to gawp. He was the spitting image of their teammate, but most definitely not Raimundo. His eyes were brown, not green, and though his hair was spiked, he had short bangs framing his face.

"Um...sorry," Kimiko offered, "You look a lot like someone we know. And were just talking about." Standing and dusting herself, she offered the stranger a hand, trying to at least convey apology.

Seeming to understand, the boy took the offer and stood with the others. Then he asked, "Oh...you speak English?"

Kimiko's brow went up, but she then smiled, glad to find that language would not be an obstacle. "Yeah, sorry. We're just visiting. And...sorry about your kite."

Barely sparing a glance behind him, the boy shook his head. "It's fine. But you did say Raimundo, yes? Do you know my brother? Are you here with him?"

Both Kimiko and Jermaine's eyes widened here, and they shared a glance. Quickly, Kimiko waved her palms in dismissal, sweating. "Oh, no. It's probably a different Raimundo. You look a lot like him, like, a lot a lot, but that would be crazy." A pause. "Wouldn't it..?"

The boy's head tipped, uncertain but curious. "What is your Raimundo's family name?"

"Um. Pedrosa..?"

The stranger's face lit up in shock again, hands excitedly flying to his chest. "I am a Pedrosa! Davi Pedrosa!" Kimiko and Jermaine's heads went back in stun as the young teen professed, "I have not heard his name in so long, but Raimundo is my older brother who has been missing for almost four years now!"

The other two were slack-jawed. Jermaine could only voice for the both of them, "No way..."

"Come!" The boy, apparently named Davi, ushered them enthusiastically with one hand as he promptly turned back the way he'd arrived from. "I will show you!" Carelessly, his kite was gathered back up as he jogged.

Wordlessly, the monks shared another bewildered look, but mutually decided their curiosity was unhelped. Could this really be Raimundo's brother? In tandem, they scrambled to keep up with the departing boy.

Soon, Davi had arrived at a home entrance with no door, only pausing to wave the others to follow again before darting inside and throwing his kite to the floor. He then ran off to parts unknown as Kimiko and Jermaine stepped in much more cautiously behind him, feeling a bit weird about just walking into a stranger's home.

"Ooooiii~!"

"Olá!"

"Quem Davi trouxe? Oi!"

"Oi oi oi..!"

It was even more overwhelming when it turned out the house was packed to the brim with people, most of them children in a full spectrum of ages. They were playing, eating, sitting with a gaming console, cooking with an assumed parent, reading, or snuggling beside a curled dog on a carpet in front of a TV. The TV was on to a talk show and being watched by a couple more adults. Several of the children had turned to the arrivals and waved, called out in greeting, or both. One small girl who couldn't have been over six ran up and said something loudly in Portuguese, and the others could only guess it was about showing off the feathered headdress she was wearing, as she reached up to lift it proudly.

Sensing somewhat of a familiar tone, Jermaine actually relaxed a little, offering the little girl a small smile. "Cool cool, little miss." He offered a thumb up, and she giggled intensely before running off again. Seeing Kimiko still looking uncomfortable, Jermaine assured, "Little more open than my home turf, not to mention friendlier, but I know a tight slum when I see it."

"I'll let you lead, then," Kimiko granted, "I know my street, but not this kind."

Though he was not the most confident about taking charge here, Jermaine tipped his head graciously, before scanning the scene and wandering over to a small boy who appeared to be arguing with an infant inside a carrier as he tried to make it drink from a bottle. Pointing, Jermaine offered, "Need a hand with that?"

Looking very glad to not have to deal with his fussy sibling anymore, the boy looked between the two strangers before shoving the bottle at Kimiko and plopping to sit himself back in a nearby chair. His legs now kicked vigorously as he idled, but he also kept his eyes locked on the others, like making sure they were actually going to help him with the baby.

A couple minutes later, Jermaine and Kimiko had the baby entertained with faces and were feeding it successfully, the brother they'd taken over for still hovering curiously to watch, when Davi came down a set of stairs and found them, carrying a square of paper in one hand.

"Ah! Faren, you are making our guests do your work?" The little boy sharply turned a cross face to the older boy and sniped something in denial, and a short, curt burst of Portuguese bickering cut between the two, before the little boy grunted and grabbed the handle of the baby's carrier and walked off awkwardly with it.

"Thank you for helping him," Davi granted, apparently having gotten a positive interaction from what had sounded like a squabble.

"Uh, yeah. No trouble. Weren't sure where you went, so..." Jermaine shrugged.

"Sorry. I had trouble finding it. But here, see? This is my brother." A quick glance around himself before Davi offered forward what was revealed to be a picture. It was a few years old, but the monks gasped as it was no doubt the Raimundo they recognized.

"That's totally him..!" Kimiko exclaimed, looking sharply back up. "You really are his brother?! Is this his old house?!"

"Yes!" Davi appeared very happy to hear confirmation. "I am the oldest after him. And these are the rest of our siblings. Fernanda, Aline, Beligna, Eloa, Faren, Quim, and Thiago, who you are meeting even before Raimundo does." As he listed their names, Davi pointed around the large main room in order of age. He looked a bit crestfallen when reaching Thiago, the infant. "There is also our mother, and some aunts and uncles and cousins who sometimes stay with us."

"Wow," Kimiko marveled, "He said he had a big family, but he didn't really say much about them. And he always talks way more about Rio..! You mean you guys didn't move? And you said he was missing?!"

"Rio..? Is that where he went?" Here, Davi's face fell some more as his eyes drifted to the picture in his hand for a moment. "Perhaps 'missing' is not the word...his history here has been...not the happiest." Looking to the others, he insisted, "But please, if he is with you, I would like to see him. I want him to know that even if the others do not, I, at least, forgive him."

Jermaine and Kimiko creased their brows, the girl echoing, "Forgive him..?"

Closing his eyes, a strained sort of sigh slipped from Davi's nose. "I can see he really did not tell you much about his life here. Come. If you will let me meet with him, I will tell you." A gesture was made for the door, and the three of them headed outside to find a place less crowded where they could speak.

…

In silence, Omi and Clay had simply been wandering for the first few minutes since they'd left the group, neither certain which of them was even leading as they walked.

"So...any particular reason you wanted to partner up, pardner?" Clay ventured. He had to say he'd found the way Omi had so eagerly claimed him to be unusual. Especially because they were now so awkwardly aimless.

"Do not be silly, Clay," Omi countered, "It is you who wanted to partner with me! I could just tell."

"Right..." The cowboy didn't buy it. "You sure yer not just avoidin' somethin'? Ah mean Jack was lookin' right at you, and usually yer plum pleased as punch to beeline right for him." Maybe they'd had a fight.

"I was not looking at Jack! I mean Jack was not looking at me! There was no looking involved whatsoever from any direction!" Omi's arms flapped vigorously as he stumbled over his Freudian slip.

Another stretch of silence as Clay observed the short boy's frazzled complexion. Getting a sense there was something more personal going on, he decided to swerve sharply away from that kettle of fish and instead note, "Well, do you at least know where we're goin'? Ah think this is the fourth time we've passed that surf shop..." He pointed to the storefront as they meandered past.

"I thought you knew where we were going," Omi pointed at Clay in turn. Looking around the shopping square they circled, he scratched his head. "Have we been here already..?" Quite honestly, he'd been so inside his head that he hadn't noticed.

"You sure yer alright..?" the Texan had to wonder, "Yer actin' awful squirrely."

"A squirrel?! Where?!" Instantly, Omi was alert and panicked, gaze flying everywhere. Not seeing the dreaded vermin, he leapt to plaster backwards around Clay's head in paranoia.

Grunting in displeasure to have his friend's back suddenly smacked into his face, Clay reached to grab the front of Omi's tunic and pry him off. Holding Omi by his collar, Clay's other hand flipped conversationally as he explained, "No, Omi, Ah mean yer more twitchy than a trigger finger. Ah'm worried for ya, is all."

"Oh." As he was set down, Omi rubbed the back of his neck in contemplation. Was it really that obvious? How could his flawless ability to mask his emotions fail him? "Well," he admitted, "There is one concern that has crossed my mind recently, and that is that perhaps I have been possessed by some Heylin spell, or even a spirit..!"

Clay startled, that having to be about the last thing he expected. "Um...what?"

"Yes," the yellow boy confirmed, "It has been most dreadful, but I have been experiencing an unbearable feverishness in the presence of Jack Spicer as of late. Ever since a certain...event, a strange, unexplainable itch from my insides plagues me. Perhaps it is one of Wuya's latest tricks, and she plans to keep us apart so that our bond may not be used against her..!"

Now Clay grimaced and paled, all-too aware of the symptoms being described, and having absolutely no desire to inform Omi that they had nothing to do with being cursed. He was far too shy to even think about such things without blushing, much less explain hormones.

Well, at least if there wasn't anything actually wrong with Omi, Clay could safely just shut his trap and let the little yellow monk believe whatever he wanted. Clay was sure he'd figure himself out eventually. Of course the Texan also just wished Jack could be here instead of him all the more, so he could shamelessly explain things like he always did. What Clay wouldn't give for just a dash of that immodesty right now.

"Clay..? You do not look so well. Do you wish to get out of the sun..?"

Omi easily noticed the larger boy had gone silent after prying, and that he looked rather off color.

Clearing his throat into his fist, Clay once more tried to smooth everything over and act normal. "Nah, Ah'm good," he assured, "This is nothin' compared to bakin' on the range back home." A soft chuckle. "Hey, and don't worry about that magic stuff none. It don't sound like yer possessed to me. Just...trust me."

The sudden sounding of a ship's horn at a nearby dock provided a distraction for both boys, and Clay couldn't have found it more welcome. Tossing a thumb over that way, he suggested, "Think maybe our wu's on the water?"

Effectively convinced, Omi gave a sharp smile. "Heh heh...you are asking the right Dragon!" Suddenly invigorated, he grabbed Clay by the arm and scampered over to the dock, but rather than take the boarding ramp, the Chinese boy aimed for the bow of the ship directly.

Clay let out a nervous warble and barely got to ask Omi what he was doing before the smaller monk had leapt off the side of the pier with him in tow. However, rather than going down, the pair landed on a waterspout that had been summoned from below. Clay yelled in discomfort as he and Omi were carried up and over the ship's railing, and deposited without ceremony onto the open deck. The deck of a cruise ship, it seemed. Sunning chairs, shuffleboard and even a pool were displayed at the ready, but no one had gotten the chance to come up to the deck yet. Luckily.

Omi landed gracefully, perfectly dry and beaming with pride at his shortcut. Clay landed in a wet sprawl and lifted his hat to let a flailing fishy passenger out from under it.

"How 'bout a little warning next time, pardner?" he groused, now wringing his kerchief out in his fists.

"I said I was the appropriate Dragon to get us here...you know I am the Dragon of Water," Omi countered, confused. Clay was the one who suggested they search the water in the first place.

Grumbling, Clay opted to just drop it. Plopping his sopping hat back on his head, he voted, "Let's just get lookin'. Dojo said we were after a circle on the way here, so maybe we should start over by the life gear?"

"It is a circlet, not a circle," Omi corrected, "We are looking for a type of crown. But! The presence of other round objects is a fair assessment to start with."

Shortly, after a bit of snooping and locating a cruise pamphlet with a map, the boys had located a supply area. It was below deck, and they began to run into other people here. Seeing a cluster of tourists coming from the cabin area, Clay hushed to the smaller boy, "Quick, Omi – blend in..!"

As they passed in the narrow hall, Clay whistled innocently and buried his face in the map. Omi passed them with a friendly wave, greeting, "Hello, honorable strangers! I too am supposed to be aboard this wondrously large ship! What is it for?"

Clay froze, and while the tourist cluster looked at Omi in confusion, a couple laughing at his strange assertion. Sharply, the Texan turned back and leaned in, one large hand landing on Omi's scalp. "You know why we're here, little man..!" he breezed, "Vacation, same as everyone else..!" Chuckling to the group of tourists, he excused, "Pardon my, uh...kid brother here. He's just excited." And in a wink, he'd lifted Omi by the head and darted down the hall.

"Who are you calling a child?" Omi shot as he dangled.

"What do you think 'blend in' means?" Clay countered, "We can't hunt wu if we're caught. We don't have tickets. And announcin' you don't know what a cruise ship is ain't gonna do us any favors."

A pouty grumble. Excuse Omi for being curious. He hadn't realized there was so much of a protocol for getting on a simple boat.

Slowing, Clay put Omi back on the ground and looked at the map again. "Alright," he supposed, "Should be right up ahead. Let's look fast before anyone needs somethin' inside."

"Ohhh, we are being secretive~?" Omi sounded much more interested now. "Why did you not just say so? I enjoy secret elaborate plans!" Promptly, he hopped to plaster himself on the wall and crawl up to the ceiling, scampering ahead eagerly. Looking around to ensure the coast was clear, he reached down to the top of the door for a test and found that it swung open readily, not even locked. Flipping down from the ceiling, he landed and looked around shrewdly again before tucking into a ball and rolling backwards into the storage unit.

Clay hemmed, glad Omi was on the right track now at least. He thought.

Soon the pair had begun pawing through anything that looked like it might hold a metal ring. Storage lockers, piles of life preservers, trunks and even coolers. However, much to their dismay, there wasn't anything even slightly resembling a dainty ornament. They did come across some supplies for a stage show, however, which prompted Clay to wonder if maybe the circlet could be a decoration or a prize for one of the dining room events. They were here, so it was worth looking just in case.

Sneaking into the dining hall was simple enough, and there were a lot of fancy decorations, but as the monks dug through boxes of stage decor, they alerted to the sound of a cruise planner calling out in surprise. A ponytailed woman with a clipboard and a blazer had come to start organizing a performance, apparently, and caught the two in the act.

Omi screamed. "Our sneakery has been spoiled!"

"Run!" Clay called as the woman reached for a walkie talkie and began speaking into it, declaring trouble and requesting security.

Both boys made a break for it, dashing for the exit. The woman didn't follow, but as the boys burst out onto the deck, they were met with the sound of a pair of large men thundering toward them.

Not wanting to be tackled, Clay formed an uncertain defensive stance. "We fightin'..?"

"No!" Omi's hand swished to stay the other. "We are at fault for trespassing. We cannot fight innocent civilians!" A wise finger rose pointedly. "However, there is nothing to say we cannot exercise our most effective evasive tactics. Aaaaahhhhh!"

Arms overhead, Omi very tactfully and gracefully ran away flailing at full tilt. Agreeing that he very much would not like to get caught, Clay grabbed the brim of his hat and sprinted after the short monk.

A tough-looking woman stepped out from around the upcoming corner, and the fugitives skidded to a halt, quickly turning and ducking into the hallways instead. Behind them, all three of their pursuers could be heard following. Now Clay and Omi ran like rats in a maze, scrambling madly to evade. They ducked in and out of these halls a few times, and managed to run a full circle back to the bow deck they'd first landed on. They caused a commotion here, leaping over sunbathing tourists and flipping through a yoga class. Clay hopped across a trail of pool floaties while Omi soared to land on a pair of shuffleboard discs and ride them over the waxed floor with a speed boost.

Many more security guards had joined in by now, the troublemakers making ship news in an announcement over the speakers. In tandem, Clay and Omi hit the ship rail and saw in dismay that the ship was no longer at port. They were long gone from shore. Omi instinctively reached to manipulate the water below, but then hesitated, wondering if anything he did might hurt the passengers.

Before he could think of something to do, a surrounding presence was felt, and he turned to find himself and Clay entirely cornered. Clay had already put his hands up in surrender. Deciding this was probably wisest in the moment, Omi did the same.

...

Silently, Omi and Clay sat beside one another on the single, bare-bones bench in the ship's brig, not having been able to bring themselves to use their elements on the guards, and naturally not being able to provide tickets or a reason to be aboard that didn't sound crazy. The ship rocked gently, the creaking of the metal all that permeated the guilty atmosphere until Omi opted to break it.

"So," he asked conversationally, "What makes you certain it is not Wuya making me feverish in Jack's presence..?"

Clay's lips widened in a fresh grimace. Nope. Still not going there.