Yoh peered curiously at his wife for a moment, and then a smile graced his face. "Fourth, mm?"
Anna looked back at him. "Not quite yet."
Ren looked on expectantly as well, but he was bewildered, not impressed.
A sudden surge of wind circled Anna, and the black hood that had been sheltering her head flew off. Black dress blowing, Anna trembled and then eased. She had begun to glow a brilliant bright blue…and the hue only intensified as thunder rolled across the clouds outside once more.
Yoh and Ren shielded their eyes when the light became too much, but Anna's features remained the calmest they had the entire day. Her eyes opened; they were now glazed with a heavenly light tint. When her billowing black garb was completely illuminated so that it looked like a piece of the blue sky, the color shot up in a bright beam right through the roof of the pagoda—and, to Ren's shock, it caused quite a bit of damage.
Perhaps it was a little more than just an intense cerulean radiance.
When the mysterious power had left the room, Anna huffed satisfactorily and brushed herself off. Slumping back in the red armchair (which she was growing quite fond of), she simply stated, "NOW we shall free the fourth. You didn't think I wasn't going to act as soon as possible, did you, Yoh?"
"Why would I have let you know otherwise, Anna?" Yoh laughed.
The blonde shook her head. "Because you like to communicate telepathically for no reason?"
The long-haired man blinked and touched a finger to his lips. "…Yeah…"
"Nuff said."
The couple's eyes settled back on the Tao. His eyes were transfixed on oblivion, mouth hung open in utter disbelief.
"…Anna, do you think he's allri—"
"EE!!! WHU—?!!" Ungodly shrieks poured out Ren's mouth as he held his head, looking up through the hole in his castle roof. "WH-WHAT THE—?! WHAT WAS THAT!!!! YOU!!!!!" His right index finger flew in the direction of Anna.
"Yes?"
"WHAT DID YOU JUST DO?!!?!"
The woman looked on, unintimidated by Ren's waning stability. Yoh and she were about to challenge him, and she really did not know how they would do it. But one thing was for sure: they needed to break his ice somehow.
Toukyou
"I've tried to reach him, but he was too hurt to even acknowledge me. Not only that day had he found out that our home changed so much, but the field we'd began was really what kept his faith alive. It told him that the land was okay, and that he could make a difference. Since it was gone, he shoved the snowboard in my face and ran away crying; heartbroken, outraged…He was so upset by all that…" Pirika looked left, where on the wall, a white snowboard decked with flowing blue and black patterns hung.
"I think that ever since that time he's doubted my loyalty in our Ainu way of life, maybe because I couldn't save our burdock field," she explained plaintively, tearing up a little. "But in some ways, I have remained even more dutiful than he in what the Ainu stand for."
Across the room, Ryu scratched his head—Toukyou was not the ideal setting for an Ainu woman, so why had she fled her home village?
Matamune listened in silence, his wise cat eyes downturned in solemnity.
Hana, who was sitting on Pirika's cross-legged lap on the floor, looked up at her with empathy. She could see that the boy was deep, deeper than many adults, and she smiled.
"Well," she finally huffed. "You guys, though…I think you finally got my brother out of his funk. Maybe now he'll think more clearly."
"How'd we do that?!" Hana spat.
"Hana-san…" Matamune warned. He could see that the boy was confused by what Pirika had said…and that made for outbursts.
"No, I'm serious!" he said, more loudly this time. Pirika leaned back as Hana got off her lap. Standing in the middle of the room, he clenched his small fists. "Here I am, worrying about what I did to set Horohoro off after he's been through something that really affected him, and I just don't get how me crushing an important stick…or whatever!…could possibly be of any help! I don't even know what to think anymore…or what to do…"
The rest of the group looked on uncertainly. Though they didn't know how to comfort him, they all sympathized…he was only a child, after all. Someone of six years was bound to be rattled by something that he didn't understand.
Ryu finally walked over and knelt down beside his little master. One of his great hands clapped Hana on the shoulder while the boy looked down at the carpet.
"Bocchan…Don't worry so much. You put way too much weight on your shoulder."
Hana sniffed, but he wasn't crying.
"You know what, Hana-kun?" Pirika called out with spirit. "You don't have to feel bad about breaking that stick."
He and Ryu looked up at her together. "But I do," Hana started. "I know that it must have taken a lot of time and effort to carve it; it was really pretty. But I don't even know what it was!"
"You know, the person who made it wouldn't be mad." Pirika grinned, her tattoo sprawling fully. "I carved that ikupasuy."
Hana's sniveling ceased in an instant. His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open ever-so-slightly. "You carved that—?! You carved that…that…huh??"
"It was an ikupasuy," Pirika told him with emphasis. Turning to face the snowboard on her wall, she explained, "That's what an Ainu prayer stick is called. I carved that for him while he was still in the Shaman Tournament."
"Wow…" Hana sighed in awe.
"Yup!" She asserted. "It was really more of a memento at first…I didn't want him to forget me. But he kind of used it to amplify his shamanic ability in battle after a while…It must have really meant something spiritually to him. It's just great to think that no matter how angry he made himself out to be at me, he never chucked the thing. He probably still used it, being that it was in the clothes he was wearing.
"And when you accidentally cracked it, Hana…he got really emotional. I think that no matter how much distrust he has in other people, he must really at least care for and think about those he's left. And even, hypocritically, still considers himself Ainu."
"How is he not Ainu?" Matamune questioned.
"-Tch-," The lady blew between her teeth. "He sure has lost his sense of community. He can't attend important religious ceremonies, because he has lost his ties to our village chief. He didn't have pierced ears…did he?"
None of the three others could recall any jewelry on the rough shaman. Pirika continued.
"I think that most important, though, is that he hasn't kept true to keeping Ainu ways alive. I'm a teacher here in Toukyou—a professor on the Ainu language, culture, customs, religion, everything. I mean, I know that I live in the city, but I am still Ainu. I go to Hokkaido to see our father and the people of our village every chance I get. …I'm ready for marriage, too." She blushed a little with a smile. "Everytime I've gone up to visit, my tattoos have grown. Now, I'll be able to marry the man I've been promised to. He is only half Ainu, but this is commonplace now. Very rarely can you find a pure Ainu man to carry on whole heritage. My father is very pleased with everything I've done...Even if he's grown worried sick over his stupid, secluded, forest-hermit son!"
"He really thinks that about Horohoro?" Ryu asked in surprise.
Pirika lifted her hand, grabbing the opposite tattooed arm and massaging it softly. Her voice quieted. "No…he doesn't. And he's dying.
"I'm the one who wishes that my brother would feel the same happiness, the same energy that I do whenever I put on an attusi-spun robe. I wish that he had a sense of connection…I can't even say I know what he's doing to better his life, or enjoy it. It seems that his love of snowboarding has fallen out of the picture…" The woman's blue hair swished as her eyes turned once again to the hanging plank. As her eyes sparkled with withheld water, she thought about how useless it was here on some wall in a Toukyou home.
Pirika imagined it under Horohoro's feet, wielded against cold, bright snow.
A tear finally falling, she wiped it away from her pale cheek. "It's a wonder that Kororo is still by his side. She's probably all that keeps him sane."
Hana's heart skipped a beat; he remembered seeing Kororo's broad, lush leaf trailing behind her, her flying outside…
"She's missing."
"What?" Pirika revolved and looked down to face Hana.
"We gotta find her!" Hana announced. "She must have gotten real scared of him when he got mad…But I know that she isn't there for him right now."
Pirika's large, indigo eyes grew, her expression one of incredulity. "Oh wow…I don't know what to do about this, but I'm sure it's serious."
"I know!! He was really kind to her, when I saw her helping him," Hana sighed.
Ryu, standing tall, hit his left palm with a determined fist. "Tomorrow, we're going to make sure to find her. We'll solve this whole problem."
"T-tomorrow?" Hana sputtered. His arms flung out, and he cried, "This is serious! We need to help him!"
"It's late, Hana-san," Matamune told him softly, hovering down to him. "I'm sure that your aunt Tamao will be very worried about you."
"I'm not tired, Matamune!" his master assured him strongly. However, he noticed that the very word "tired" gave him the urge to yawn. "I'm worried for Kororo…Horohoro…"
Pirika beamed delicately as Ryu lifted the boy up into his arms. "We're gonna head out, now, Bocchan. Do you want to go out to the car?"
Rubbing his eyes, Hana nodded. When he was set down, he toddled groggily over to his spirit so that they could walk out to the sidewalk together.
"Daijobu, Hana-san," was heard just before the door closed when Matamune slipped out. It's okay…Don't worry…
For that last minute, Ryu and Pirika were left to themselves in the chic, undersized apartment. Pirika smiled at the pompadoured man across from her.
"You guys are really incredible," she told him sincerely. Her tone was sweet. "…Especially the kid."
"Ah, he's got a lot that he thinks about," Ryu said. "He's a hard-worker, too. Always kept busy."
"…" Pirika shrugged her shoulders, still smiling. "I don't think I'll worry so much about Oniichan now. I know him…he'll be way more open to you after that first visit of yours. But, he'll really be missing Kororo." Eyebrows straining, she pleaded, "Find her for him, okay?"
He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. "I know we'll do it."
Her eyes glittered in silent thanks. Pirika came a little closer to Ryu, her arms stretched out for him…
Ah, Pirika-chaaaan! Ryu held out his own arms for her, puckering his lips and keeping his eyes closed.
He didn't see her stop on a dime.
Sternly, she asked, "What the heck are you doing?"
Ryu blinked a couple times. His face dropped, arms falling limp along with his hair.
"-Sigh-…." His eyes rose once again to look at her. "So you're getting married, huh?"
Pirika's cheeks lifted as she smiled. "Yes."
Ryu glumly looked to the door, and then bid her, "Oyasumi-nasai, Pirika-chan."
"Goodnight to you too, Ryu-san." She waved. "Oyasumi."
He shut the door and stood on her mat for a minute. Darn…
Ryu's feet echoed as they strutted toward the elevator.
His heavy foot hit the plane like a quake, tapping to a steady rhythm. If he could have looked out the window in his row, he would seen a beautiful night sky. It looked like a deep blue bowl full of dazzling, starry jewels.
"…I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash, It's a gas! Gas! Gas!!" Mick Jagger's vocals burned through the earphones of Chocolove MacDonnell's old portable CD player, rejuvenating his ears after a long period of cold silence. He was one of those types who had a surreal connection with music, and true rhythm. This was why the carpet under him was pounded to a point where it was unavoidable not to hear it or even feel the aircraft shake to the beat.
His wide pink lips expanded in a smile. He was heading back to the grand, gritty, incomparable city of New York—his hometown. And he had not much else on his mind but thoughts of home sweet home, which mellowed him out almost as much as the Rolling Stones did.
-Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.-
Chocolove thought nothing of his weight. He couldn't judge himself by appearance. Not that he would ever have cared, anyway. But he knew of it, of course, and he knew that it was all stress…
"Mreoowwr?" The small ball of spiritual energy, Mic Jaguar, growled by the ear of his master. He had tried to make Chocolove aware multiple times, but the shaman hadn't responded over the music.
Finally, a chuckle came from him in acknowledgement. "I've heard you, Mic. Every snarl."
Because Chocolove was boisterous in the first place, the fact that he felt the need to talk over his music lifted his voice to an even higher volume. The other passengers on the airplane raised eyebrows and murmured about the man that they were already staring at, and the impatient flight attendant tapped her toes repetitively to the floor.
Ignoring his spirit once again, the hefty man just hummed along to the unmistakable sharp twang that was Keith Richards's guitar work.
The spotted specter became nervous now. Chocolove was drawing a lot of attention to himself, and he had busted out of prison just before their previous flight. The way his big feet shook the plane with each tap (which woke up the old man trying to sleep in front of him), his larger-than-life figure, his sleek black shades…the man screamed for attention even when he was silent.
And now he was talking to a ghost.
Clacking high-heels made their way down the aisle, and Mic meowed once again, loudly, into Chocolove's ear.
"I know everyone's staring; I can feel it." Chocolove turned his head to the jaguar spirit. His grin fell, and lips pursed in perplexion, he asked, "I sure hope you're not fussing about that, Mic—"
"IF THE BIG MAN IN THE ORANGE CAP AND SUNGLASSES WOULD NOT MIND, THE PERSONNEL AND PASSENGERS ABOARD WOULD KINDLY ASK HIM TO STOP TAPPING HIS FOOT AND TALKING TO HIMSELF," bellowed through a voice amplifier the size of a small palm.
The female flight attendant pat her shiny auburn hair, tightly wrenched back in a bun, with satisfaction. She was now noticed by the other passengers, despite the man a few feet away from her shaking the aircraft constantly throughout the trip.
But had the subject of the announcement detected her?
"…" Chocolove's thumbs twiddled and he paid no heed to…(the name on her tag) Missy.
Missy's nostrils flared, and she gripped her little microphone more tightly.
"Remember!!" came a perky call, jolting some of the people in their seats, "On the flight, it is important to pay attention to all of the attendants, who try and make for the most pleasant experience possible for ALL flyers—"
"The song's almost over, just be quiet," Chocolove told Mic unnecessarily loudly.
"EXCUSE ME?!?!" The attendant was ostensibly on edge.
As if deriding the woman, the shaman's feet tapped softer…and softer…until they stopped, and the plane wasn't affected at all.
Narrowing her eyes and jutting her lips out in a pout, Missy tapped Chocolove's shoulder. The other travelers gawked on as the man twice the attendant's size took off his earphones and faced her direction. "Yes?"
"Sir, I would like to announce that frankly, you are causing some turbulence."
"Turtle fence!!!" Chocolove shouted out of the blue.
The entire plane couldn't believe it; they intently watched the face-off.
Eyes bugged out, Missy fumed, "What is your name, sir?"
"Chocolove. Chocolove McDonnell," he told her.
"Mr. McDonnell, I would like you to take off your sunglasses so that I know you are acknowledging me."
"I'm afraid I can't look at you."
Hairs, like guitar strings plucked too hard, flew from her severe bun. Eye twitching, she hollered, "YOU KNOW VERY WELL THAT YOU CAN AND YOU WILL THIS INSTANT!!!!" with the force of a hurricane.
Heaving a deep but casual sigh, the man complied. With his beefy hand, he gripped the tiny dark lenses and pulled them off his face.
"Better?"
Missy looked down at him, and at once her hand cupped her mouth in revelation. The pupils were unnaturally milky; irises hazed as well. It was painfully obvious that the glossy orbs were unable to interpret images. He's blind…
Not like that changed anything.
"Yes, Mr. McDonnell. Now, to let you know, if you shake the plane anymore with your obscenely annoying foot-thumping—"
"Are you going to throw me off?" He smiled. "I can guarantee you, I've had skydiving experience. It would be no problem."
Missy huffed, "I am not joking, Mr. McDonnell. You must not disturb our passengers; it's in the policy."
"I can tell you're not joking," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm a comedian, you know."
"I am not starting conversation, I am warning you to stop rattling the plane and upsetting people trying to rest on this eleven-hour fligh—WAAGH!!!!"
The plane shook; an airstream had rushed over the back of the plane. It was absolutely jerking—luggage crashing out of compartments, passengers roughly jostled about in their seats, yellow masks falling in front of everyone's face the instant the roaring wind passed over.
"Wh-what in the world was that??" the nervous attendant called out from the floor. Missy had lost her palm-sized mike to the uneven impact of whatever had shaken the aircraft. Struggling, she got up and brushed herself off briskly.
The instant she had regained her composure, she gaped at Chocolove and her eyes grew big as saucers—along with everyone else's on the plane.
The pilot, oblivious, was unheard by anyone in the compartments behind him. His voice informed the rest of the plane through loudspeakers, "I am very sorry for that unexpected bit of turbulence. I am sure that everybody is all right, and we shall be touching down within fifteen minutes. Please reach your friendly flight attendants with any questions you may have."
Chocolove heaved a heavy sigh. "Man, I'm glad we're touching down soon, huh, Mic?" He smiled and breathed deeply. "It's like I have all this energy just held in. Maybe sitting so long is finally getting to me."
The plane's eyes followed him as he unbuckled and stepped awkwardly out into the aisle, excusing himself past Missy. "Sorry, but I'm going to go use the bathroom."
The woman scuttled largely away from Chocolove, and the rest of the seated passengers leaned toward their windows as he made his way down the plane.
They were afraid to come in contact with whatever was making his body glow bright blue.
A/N's
YES! What a chapter. It's finally updated :)
Well, I did get a complaint or two about the last chapter being so short. To be honest, that was done on purpose…I figured I'd return to my 1,500 word-or-so entries, being that perhaps my stuff got really long-winded. But I'm glad that, for the most part, people seem to like the bigger chapters. It makes for a much easier way to get in important parts of the story.
I don't think that I need to write any Ainu notes here; the stuff in this section was pretty self-explanatory. But if you have a question of your own—not only about the Ainu, but anything—I would love to hear them in a PM or a review.
Another thing people have asked me since last chapter is, "How old are Yoh and Anna (and other characters)?" Well, as we all know, Hana is six. That's the only real set age here, and to be honest, it doesn't matter too much -sweatdrops-. But here, I'll explain Yoh and Anna:
Since it's 2007 in this fic (and, currently, in real life), Yoh and Anna are either twenty-one or twenty-two years old, depending on what month it is. This is because Yoh was born on May 12, 1985, and Anna's birthday is July 22 of the same year (happy belated golden birthday, Anna!).
Like I said, it means nothing, really, at this point. But there you go :)
Lastly, I would like to thank you all for reading this chapter. I'm sure a lot of my readers will be pretty confused with some of the stuff that happened up there, but I can assure you, it will all make perfect sense in due time. Some of you may have even figured out exactly what is going on!
Please take the time to review, now that you're finished. And I hope you like the next chapter!
-SS