36.ii Like Scooping the Moon from the Water

~ Sun Ritsu ~

The moment Sun Ritsu disappeared inside of the paper space, he regretted walking out on Ham Song. He saw it as a moment of weakness. He had panicked. But that wasn’t the right thing to do. Ham Song was only trying to help. And for whatever reason, he had so much faith in Ritsu. Great Sage, where did it all come from?

{{It comes from the understanding that you are more than a fry cook. So much more than you permit yourself to be.}}

The Radiant State – that’s what the Golden-Hooped Rod of Compliance meant by so much more.

By now Ritsu understood that consuming enough immortal peaches triggered this state. And once Ritsu was in it, he was forced to release the reins on his speech as well as his choices. Logically, he was still the one in control. He knew that.

The Radiant version of himself was one that he became in his dreams. When the body was suspended in a realm of infinite possibility, things that Ritsu could say and do grew sevenfold. And it scared him.

Just like the staff scared him. Ritsu did not want to acknowledge that brazen, dreamlike sense of self bubbling just beneath the surface of his consciousness. He did not want to grant that one access to his limbs and his mouth.

So what if doing so would keep his friends around longer and make his staff become more submissive to him? It did not feel good to believe, however dimly, that his own Immortal State – undoubtedly powerful though wholly unpredictable – would be the reason his companions found him worthy company.

No, it did not feel good at all.

So then let me be a fry cook, Ritsu thought honestly. How stupid could he make the Golden-Hooped Rod feel if he were to liberate Bodhi and maybe someday earn back the trust of Anari with nothing but an apron, a spatula, and a knack for listening to meat as it approached doneness?

Oh, I am sorry. Am I boring you, Dear Traveler? I thought you liked listening to the roundabout mental musings of our brooding hero.

He is a sad one, isn’t he? Lamenting over failing friendships and questioning his self worth in this broken spirit world – it’s… it is dangerous to get into that kind of headspace, you know? To no fault of our hero, mind you. For several seasons Sun Ritsu has had to listen to backsliding criticism coming from an arrogant immortal relic lodged in his ear.

This was enough to turn even the most optimistic sort down a river of second guessing and shadowy self examination. This monkey staff, being the most sage of them all, needed a strong hand to wield it. And though Sun Ritsu’s grip on his spatula knew no equal, it was his heart, Dear Traveler, that needed to undergo a reforging.

Fortunately for our hero, his idle walk to the edge of the province brought him right back to the source of his collective internal mess.

The Heavenly River.

And sitting at the edge of the tourism boundary, atop the steep rise of stacked stones was somebody who Sun Ritsu recognized. His cheaply-made tracksuit, shiny and neon, crackling at the slightest disturbance, was the thing that gave him away.

Sun Ritsu came up to Sun Seven and took a seat beside him.

“Got a light?” Ritsu asked, already relaxed by the thin cloud zig-zagging from Seven’s cigarette.

Seven turned slowly. Once he fully registered Ritsu’s presence and proximity, he flashed his gold tooth in a hopeful grin, but didn’t erupt into the crazed, desperate appeal that he had shown himself very capable of just hours before.

Wordlessly, Seven lit the cigarette for Ritsu while holding it up to his lips. Then they both stared out at the pearlescent water, feeling the spiritual tug of its historical depths.

There was no more evidence of the tragic accident that happened there shortly before Ritsu and his cadre’s arrival. Still, the monkey found himself lamenting again. This time for the spirits who would never find themselves again in the Lake of Ninefold Darkness. They had been crushed under something too cosmic and destructive to allow them to reset. Their essence was gone.

This was yet another shadow hanging over Ritsu’s head for the past few seasons. It was too dark to acknowledge in strange company, so he didn’t bring it up.

But Seven did.

“My best mate and business partner died in an accident here.” The clone took a drag on his cigarette, the fabric on his sleeves fussing all the while. “They were making some kind of highway out here and he was doing time at the Correctional Facility. The builders said they would shave off some of that sentence for whoever volunteered.”

Seven paused to stare down at the edge of the placid river as it sloshed against the grainy shore at the bottom of that stony drop.

“Well anyway, he’s not here anymore. Idiot.” Seven chucked the cigarette bud hard down the steep slope. He glared hard at the iridescent waves. For the briefest of moments, the monkey’s glamour cracked, revealing some excruciating, feral emotion. Had Ritsu blinked, he would have missed it.

“Your business partner,” Ritsu said, “was he the one who came up with Lemon Lime?”

Seven didn’t look away from the Heavenly River, but he blinked several times. “He… yeah, that was his idea.”

Finally, Seven looked up, gold tooth shining in the glare of the river as he smiled and recalled, “It was his dream to take Lemon Lime all the way to the Sevenfold Peach. Small timers like him and I could never leave the province, so we had to wait for the tournament to come to us.”

Ritsu closed his eyes and quietly as he could, swallowed the lump building in his throat. He went back to smoking without another word.

Dear Traveler, he knew what he must do.

Our benevolent hero did not want to end up like Sun Seven, watching helplessly as his friend got themself killed out here in this broken spirit world. Perhaps what happened at the collapsed bridge was a one in a million freak accident, but this didn’t mean Bodhi was safe from rotting in that stupid building if left there for too long. What if they already had started to?

No, Ritsu needed to get Bodhi out of this village governed by absolute lunatics.

The tournament was the fastest way to do that. Only Sun Ritsu knew that his Immortal State was strong and sage enough to make it happen.

“Seven. I’m going to let you sponsor me,” Ritsu said, jets of smoke streaming into the space on his exhale.

He held out a hand, ready to shake Seven’s and seal the deal.

“I’ll be your fighter for the Sevenfold Peach Championship.”