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 Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 6:14 am
When Jianyu withdrew the arrow, Miao ached to touch it. Sure, it was only a small part of archery – but it was one of the coolest parts. Or at least, Miao thought so. His fingers were suspended in a hesitated suspension. Dangling in the air, away from the arrow, but longing to reach out and feel it. Miao bit down on his bottom lip – hard. There was a sense of “not yet” in the air, and Miaoyin knew it would be more than rude to grab the arrow, but, oh, he wanted to. And sometimes, sometimes, desire was the path a man should follow. Rarely! But sometimes…
Then Jianyu spoke again, and Miao was whisked back into the world of focus. He was a sponge, the clay – and he would soak in everything the elder boy said, and then let Jianyu mould him into the perfect pupil. This moment, granted the archery course was not the most mystical background there ever was, reminded Miao of the glimpses and stories of monks he had been told my his father. He had never been to one of their monasteries, but he had seen a monk once or twice – the shaved head, the regal robes. They demanded calm and spiritualism, magic at its purest. Miao felt what a monk felt (or at least, what he imaged they felt anyways) as Jianyu spoke to him – the bow and arrow hovering close, but at the same time so very far from him. He couldn’t really explain this new feeling of pure enlightenment, but it was there.
He fingers shook slightly as the arrow was slid between wood and string. Miao winced, his face contorting in an effort to stop the stupid rattling. It was not because he was cold, nor was it because he was afraid. His hands, he figured, were just overeager. Miao’s whole body was beginning to feel light as Jianyu placed his fingers once again. The anticipation of the moment was almost too much for him.
He closed his eyes.
The world around him faded. and in his mind there were only the dummies lazily sleeping ahead of him. This is where he wanted the arrow to go. Through the head or heart would be a bonus, since that was how it worked in his operas. But Miao would settle for a foot or two.
He pulled back.
He breathed in. His arms shook, but he pulled. Pain pulsed and coursed through his arms, but if he just tried a little harder – there. Miao exhaled the smallest of breaths.
And then he let go.
He didn’t want to open his eyes, as he felt his weight grow lighter. He didn’t want to see how he had let himself down, didn’t want to see the arrow be planted in the ground right in front of him. But sometimes you have to face your demons – be they imps or tengus or kappas – so Miao opened his eyes, slowly.
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 3:49 pm
Jianyu could feel the tremors shuddering through the younger boy's body. Miao was not used to holding a bowstring, nor were his fingers familiar with the weight of the wire and the wood of the arrow. But that determined expression on his slender face; the spark of excitement mixed with anxiety in his eyes...it was all so very familiar to Jianyu. It was as if he were looking into a mirror that showed only the past, and he was seeing himself when he was a child and his father had first handed him the bow.
He had not hit the target on the first try, of course. In fact, he had not even managed to string the arrow right. It had taken him a good few days to get used to the hold of the bow, and even then his lands were few and far between. It was only after a few months that he was able to reach his first bullseye in the targets prepared for him.
Of course, things were different with Miao. For one thing, he was not a small child. He had more strength in his arms than a six year old, though from the way perspiration was sliding down his throat, it was obvious that he was not used to such a strenuous act. Archery was much more difficult than people gave credit for, and Jianyu was pleased that Miao had not given up so easily. Standing with Miao's back pressed to his chest, Jianyu felt a quick shiver run through the boy, and then there was a sharp twang as the string snapped back into place. Jianyu almost did not move his hand in time, but at the very last second he lifted his fingers and the arrow whistled through the air.
Jianyu glanced at the target, lifting an eyebrow. Then he looked at Miao. The boy's eyes were closed, his face turned somewhat away. Amused, Jianyu reached around, his fingers touching Miao's chin to raise his face. He smiled down at him.
"Well done." he said.
The shaft of the arrow was sticking out a few inches left of the center of the target.
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 6:32 pm
As a child, Miao had never even grasped a weapon. Well, not a real one – only stage props. The bigger, heavier, stronger things were left to his father and grandfather. It was too dangerous for Miao. Besides, he had to get into character. Young and naïve, Miao’s voice had been too high for a boy’s, instead he was suited for girl roles (something he had never truly enjoyed, but rather he had come to terms with it). So, since he was a girl on stage, he had never handled even the smallest of knives. Miao had been so glad when he had finally reached his teenage years. The voice deepened, his height shot up – and while he would never be a hulking ton of brawn, he was still, finally, a real boy.
Though, mind you, the first time he had used a knife, he had nearly sliced his fingers off. However, he had taken that slice in pride. Even as he had muffled his screams of agony, and nearly collapsed from the queasiness of gushing blood (it had taken Miao years to get past that sick feeling), he had been oddly proud. He had cut like a man! Granted, a drunken man, but it had felt good nonetheless. And nothing would ever take that surge of pride away from him. Of course, he had gotten better with a knife since then (now cutting himself was a rare occasion, thank goodness), but every single time he held that cool blade, Miao felt great. It was silly, but knives made him feel more masculine. Fancy that.
He felt Jianyu’s cold fingers raise his head. Thank goodness he wasn’t wearing makeup at the time, his face would’ve been a melted mess. Miao’s face had become coated in sweat, partly due to his effort and partly due to sheer fear. Wincing slightly, Miao opened his eyes – bracing himself for the worst.
Pride, the same sort he had felt when he had been on the kitchen floor bleeding –though this time it felt slightly better, imagine that –, filled the empty space in his chest. It swelled slightly, filled with this invisible, infectious feeling. There was a wave of relief, and then joy, and then the two mixed effortless together until there was only a warm, unexplainable feeling.
“Th-thank you,” Miao struggled to find his words. He hardly knew what to say. Instead he just stood there, mouth slightly open, eyes wide, soaking in this miracle of a shot.
"Thank you," he tried again, the intial awe beginning to fade away. This time, however, Miao was not soaking in praise, he was thanking Jianyu for teaching him - teaching him what seemed like so much, in so little time.
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Posted: Sun Jul 04, 2010 6:53 pm
Though he was not smiling - his expression was more stunned than happy - the light that flooded into Miaoyin's eyes was all that Jianyu needed to know how pleased the boy was. Though the arrow was a good six inches away from the center (a large distance on such a small target) the very fact that he had managed to get that close on his very first shot was more than just a little impressive.
It was interesting. Any other time Jianyu would have not only refused to teach a mere stranger his archery, but he would have been irritated by the fact that someone was hanging around his old, private practice field. He did not normally have such a strong pull towards an individual he had just met, but Miao was far more intelligent than many of the others he had met before, and there was something simple and quietly extraordinary about him. This fact had been made clearly evident when Miao had not balked at pulling back the bowstring on his first try. Jianyu's hand moved up to touch Miao's forehead, smoothing back the damp, sweat-soaked hair.
"You are welcome." he said, his voice laced with amusement. "Though I fear the effort has quite exhausted you." One of Jianyu's dark eyebrows lifted. "Perhaps you should rest for a bit. May I offer you a stay at my house until you have recovered well?"
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 1:43 pm
Sometimes, Miao dwelled on the “if”s of his life. If the theatre troupe had been bigger, and if his parents were not short on parts and actors when he was born, then Miaoyin would’ve learnt the more complex acrobatics. If he had learnt the more complex acrobatics, perhaps he would not have abandoned that talent. If he had not abandoned it, he would’ve been stronger. And if, if Miaoyin was stronger archery would’ve been easier, and maybe, if all that was true, maybe Miao’s first arrow would’ve been launched into the small heart of the target. Today, however, those thoughts hadn’t even latched into the youth’s mine. There was only happiness, happiness and gratitude - nothing more, and nothing short of that.
When Jianyu spoke, Miao was angered at first. It was nothing truly visible, just a small flash of fire behind his dark eyes, but a burning feeling all the same. Him? Tired? He was not a child! Sure, he was scrawny, but he was hardly that weak! He was – his hands were shaking. Miao blinked curiously at them. He hadn’t noticed them at all, but, sure enough, there they were, rattling away. Mind you, he was covered in a layer of sweat too – as if it were another skin. Miaoyin longed for a river to swim in. His hand, though shaking, found its way to his chest – his heart was a loud, repetitive boom-boom-boom. Maybe he was tired after all.
“I – yes. Maybe I am tired after all,” Miao forced a thin smile onto his face. “Are you sure I wouldn’t not be intrusive? I could stay for a bit, but not to long, I wouldn’t wish to overstay my welcome. Thank you, again, Qian Jianyu.”
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 2:18 pm
Jianyu let his hand fall away from Miao's forehead, and he stepped back, moving to stand in front of the younger boy. His skin was shining with perspiration, and he was breathing quite heavily. Jianyu walked over to the target, yanking the arrow from the wood.
"You would not be intruding." he said, sliding the arrow back into the sheath on his back. "My family will be otherwise occupied in the Tattoo Parlor. The Main House will be quite empty, and you will not be disturbed."
Jianyu knew that Miao was tired; he could tell from the boy's expression, though he was doing his best to conceal that fact. But he also knew that if he offered to carry Miao back, that it would be an insult to both his pride and his strength, and he did not wish to anger the boy. So he simply gestured for him to follow him and led the way out of the field.
When they arrived back at the Qian Household, Jianyu let Miao go in before him and then stepped in behind him, sliding the door shut. The house was silent, the only sound that of the soft shuffling footsteps of the servants doing housework. Jianyu turned back to Miao.
"You may rest in my room." he said, starting down the hallway. He slid open the door to his room, motioning for Miao to go inside. "You will be comfortable there."
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 4:45 pm
Servants – that was a luxury Miao feared his family would never know. Oh, his aunties would love to get their hands on some. In fact, they were known to wail and whine and scream. They’d all too frequently squawk out complaints about how they lacked this or that, or how their alleged friends had ten servants, a hundred pearls, a thousand different perfumes to dose themselves in, and over a million coins to spare. Miao wouldn’t mind having a servant or two, really. Maybe then his aunts wouldn’t treat him as one. Or then his Grandfather would have some aid, or his parents wouldn’t have to dress about every last little detail. But, whether he wished it or not, a servant or any hired help – however low the pay – was out of the question. The theatre, the opera, though beautiful, was known to break even after living expenses were paid and new costumes and props for next year’s show were purchased. They seemed to have just enough money to feed their six small mouths, and a seventh would not be an option. Sure, his aunties gambled and gained small fortunes, but they always lost their earnings, or spent it on trash. Money came and went for the Chens, no questions asked, they just accepted it. Such was life.
Besides, Miaoyin mused onwards – the smallest of frowns appearing as he did so -, chores and housework built character. Or, at the very least, it taught you some simple skills. Miao was capable of cooking, cleaning, gardening (well, weeding anyways), and… Well, that was the extent of his skills, but he was sure his father could do more. Maybe, he considered slowly, if they didn’t have the birds, they could afford another man around the house, but Miao wouldn’t trade the bird sanctuary for the world. Speaking – or thinking – of which, Miaoyin missed his beloved Hua dearly.
Cautiously, Miao stepped – his pace slow, and his mouth daring not to betray his façade and let out a string of pants (though he wished it sorely) – into Jianyu’s room. It was a simple room, which was surprisingly refreshing for Miao. Heavens knew his walls were decorated with old props and masks, clippings from notes and news, and hanging from the window a lovely birdcage. (And by lovely, Miao meant it was started to rust, and fake gold paint was chipping.) Miao breathed in, and tumbled over to the grand futon, nestled snuggly on the floor. He could’ve concealed his fatigue – after all, he was an actor – but he had already betrayed himself, and figured there was no use disguising it any longer.
“Thank you,” he breathed out the words, soft and wispy, his eyes fighting to stay opened.
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Posted: Mon Jul 05, 2010 5:09 pm
Jianyu was not a frivolous person. He had never been one for overly dramatic decorations, nor was he interested in making a room more than what it should be, especially seeing as he hardly ever spent any time in it. So it was quite barren, with only the barest items lining the sturdy walls.
Miao's exhaustion had obviously overtaken his desire to conceal his emotions, and from the way he all but fell onto the bed it was blatant that he was worn out. Jianyu knelt beside him, a small smile on his face. He had been a good "student," so to speak. He had listened well and his desire to learn was obvious even through the careful face he often put on. Jianyu was pleased.
"Sleep." he said, lightly brushing a hand over the boy's eyes. "I will wake you in a few hours."
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