As Close as Brothers

 ChaCha looks at her stash of herbs neatly organized on the shelf. She thinks she knows enough on her own about medicines. Why does she need this master so badly that he speaks of at the Beggar's Sect? She memorized all those recipies on the wall of the cave all those months when she was with Milo. They weren't drunk all the time, as War puts it, with a grin when he's feeling foolish late at night while nursing what's left of the rice wine.

She rests her hands on her waist, thinking this might be home, cozy with all the comforts one might find on the prairie. Bare by some standards, but she has her kitchen, the bed in the corner and nothing fancy for the wardrobe. After all, they do travel lite.

It seems to her Milo is very slow these days(Method Cultivating, she guessess), and yet he's out back dancing with a sword telling her it's all in the wrist through his thoughts he sends to her.

 Really, she wouldn't know the difference between the Chi Clan move or the Wolf Pack stance. She watches as he dances in the wind, twirling in the air, being one with the sword.

He's tried to teach her, but she gets testy. More hand to hand combat is her nature. And there is always a fan to tap into action with. Not that she's had to protect herself lately, but her fan is her best friend. It always comes back to her and can slice as well as any saber.

Has he noticed? ChaCha sends the thought to him while he in the sun shining his sword- He does his thing. She does hers. Isn't that the way it should be?

She goes to the rabbit stew bubbling over the fire. It smells savory, and she's certain they will all be in for the main meal of the day, even if it might be mid afternoon. ChaCha sets the table on her own. The dumblings are hot. She yells out back that it's ready. Of course, Ching gets there first and he's with-

ChaCha gives a double take. She winces. "Who's this?" Another unexpect guest.

"Surprise," Oh she grins as if she might be the happiest girl in the world. ChaCha shakes her head. She only wants a friend, but it feels like a mystery again.

"She's good. She's the real Qing," Ching's smile is open. He has his arm around her. Perhaps ChaCha envies the couple a little. But Milo has always been good to her even if he still acts like a big brother from time to time. Yet Milo is gentle, but she sees the passion in Ching's eyes for Qing.

"You mean, that wasn't the real Qing we met back-"

Qing keeps smiling. "I don't ever want to change again."

ChaCha nods. Of course, ChaCha has seen such strange nature in this Martial World. "Let's hope you've changed for the good."

Finally, Milo strolls in holding his sword in his dark sheath. He practically sleeps with it. War isn't far behind. Of course, they are all hungry. They sit at the earthy table along with the scavenged pottery that makes the setting. 

War has the wine, but Milo looks to Qing and orders he's to only have water.

"Oh, come on, it's a celebration, you see Qing here-"

"Not so fast," Milo glares back at Qing who he calls Kiddo for the most part. "Lets see how long it last."

Any minute, Qing's appearance  might change into someone else.

ChaCha nods as she takes the wine to pour for Milo and War and of course, for herself. After all, Qing and Ching are still the youngsters, even if they might be older than they look.

"Oh, always a mystery, I'm afraid."

We were good, we were gold

 "It's me!" Her smile was brilliant. Dressed in playful colors from where she grew up. But Cheng didn't recognize her. Qing knew he'd be this way. After all, she was her true self. She couldn't remember this face, either.

"What do you mean?" He swelled a frown there at the humble abode they were staying on the outskirts of the village, a few miles from the Beggar's Sect. Fu went back immediately as if his task was done. Of course, he didn't mention anything to Cheng.

"I know..I know it might be hard for you to understand," She grabbed both of his arms, hoping he didn't run away. "Just, just try not to be angry."

She studied his dark eyes. Chen was her truest friend. She couldn't think of anyone else she could be with. They'd been through the thick of it, and not just anyone could be with a shapeshifter, if that's what she truly was.

"Even my mother didn't think I was beautiful," Tears melted from her. She heaved a sigh. "I wanted to be who she wanted me to be, but a girl from the plains in the land of bandits, and other troubles." She did her best to hold in the emotion of the past, hoping she could be who she was meant to be. "It was always a curse." She'd never seen any power taking so many different faces and forms as she did. 

"But-" He couldn't finish his sentence. He hugged her as if this was enough of an answer. His embrace kept giving and he kissed her too. Yes, they were not just friends, but to be lovers in this Martial Arts World.

She wanted to promise him that she would never change again. She felt she had a grasp of it. Although, she couldn't be certain of it. Perhaps it was a way to cope with the pain of a past long gone. What if her brother was piled up with the dead somewhere in a cave? She wished not to think about it. She couldn't. Not with a future with Cheng. They needed each other. They needed their friends. 

"You have to listen to Milo," she told him. "Don't hold a grudge that he's with ChaCha."

Cheng pulled away and looked at her as if she couldn't be serious.

"If..if it wasn't for her, you wouldn't be here," Qing said.

"What? You've been cultivating without me?" He smirked. She chuckled and whacked him in the arm with her fist. Naturally, he acted like he was hurt, but she knew he was faking. She smiled as if he would always be a funny guy.

"Don't you know, you were the only one she could think of that might be of help to that ghost, Milo?" Qing was serious as he touched her braids. Still, she knew he didn't believe her. 

"They're both much more cultivated than either of us. You only get better with the sword the more you play," she remembered.

"Well, you know, you have something to do that too." He pressed his lips and finally smiled. They embraced as if they might be ready for the next challenge.

They rode the sunset

 

Cheng sprang into the air and followed Fu over the tops of the cherry blossom trees. It snowed pink petals from one tree top to another. Soon Cheng caught up to Fu and tapped him on the shoulder. Immediately, Fu took to his sword and almost slit Cheng's throat.

"Don't be an ass," Cheng looked him in the eye as he quickly moved away from the sword. Fu's teeth nashed as if he'd have none of it so they clanked their heavy swords in mid-air, spinning from time to time to keep their balance.

"How did you learn to do that?" Cheng's eyes lit up as if he'd be Fu's best friend yet.

Fu tensed. He wasn't a man of words. 

They went at it again with their swords, dancing from one tree top to another, shaking the petals like a heavy snow. It was amazing there were any left by the time they were done and drifted to the ground.

"Look, Kiddo," Fu's frown was in a pout as he looked at Cheng whom he had pinned to the ground with his mighty sword.

"Don't call me kiddo," Cheng fought back even if he was tired of all the gallant swordplay. 

"You're a kid," Fu's lopsided grin grew into a laugh. 

"I'm old enough," Cheng got to his feet. He told Fu he'd seen a lot of war. He knew the trenches. He'd ridden the plains and lived in enough teepees to last him a lifetime. "I don't recall my mother's face. I couldn't tell you my brother's name."

Fu said nothing but looked at him so angry.

"Look, I know you need us just as much as we need you," Cheng was serious. 

"What would you need me for?" 

Fu glared at Cheng. 

"Milo knows your master to. We just want to save him from the beggars."

Cheng said ever so brightly as he did his best to smile.

Fu was only sullen.

"Oh, and there is that other thing," Cheng shrugged.

"What other thing?"

A cool breeze came from the west. There were showers in the distance. If they hurried back, they could beat the rain.

"Kiss Qing for me." 

Cheng nodded.

"Kiss Qing?" Fu squinted as a strand of long hair caught in his lip. Still, he stood taller and more handsome than Cheng. 

Cheng cleared his throat. He could only hope Qing might be her old self if Fu did him this favor.