damned_institute | Day 35: Bus 1

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Day 35: Bus 1

Sanji woke up groggily to find his nurse already in his room. He gave a sleepy and half-hearted "Buh?" before realizing that nurse meant dayshift, and he'd fallen asleep after dinner.

"Shit!" He sat up abruptly, which gave his nurse a start. "Nami-swan!" How had he allowed himself to sleep through an entire night? What if she'd tried to return to the basement? What if she'd been waiting for him to appear and protect her? He'd let her down!

"There, there. Calm down." His nurse set a familiar flannel shirt down on the bed and Sanji eyed it with confusion. The last time he'd worn that had been... "Sorry I didn't knock or anything, but I was so excited~!" A pair of jeans followed the shirt. "Today is the field trip into town! Aren't you looking forward to it?"

The chef had to admit, the town had been an interesting enough place the last time he'd been. If he could find Nami early on he might even be able to lead her around... So he didn't complain too much as he changed into the other outfit (which he really wished they'd let him keep - anything was better than the regular gray) and was led out to the first of the buses.

He took a seat near the front, hopefully easily visible to any of his crew - especially to a certain member of his crew.

[for Usopp!]

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He felt like shit. He was pretty sure he looked like it too.

The last thing Sanzo remembered was electricity crackling against him, and then a feeling of weightlessness, and then nothing after that.

Sanzo instantly regretted waking up. His body just seemed to be radiating pains and aches from the wounds, even if they'd all been bandaged. Every move he made only strained at them. It didn't help matters that he felt disgustingly weak.

The monk forced himself to get up, and get dressed. As much as he wanted to go and just pass out again, he needed to check on Goku. The monkey'd gotten that idiot notion into his head to go look for Hakkai on his own. And although Sanzo'd waved it off - he wasn't the kid's babysitter, he could do whatever he wanted - well, that didn't mean he shouldn't check to see if the kid actually found something.

....And to see if he was in one piece.

Sanzo slid gingerly into one of the empty rows. At least there wouldn't be a repeat with Homura this round.

[From here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/445457.html?thread=36029969#t36031249)]

"How are you feeling?" Qui-Gon asked.

The Jedi Master limped to a stop next to the chair and carefully sat down next to the monk, studying him. He was pale, too pale, and Qui-Gon thought he shouldn't be traveling, but instead resting. It was with regret he had to admit he couldn't offer to heal him right now - his reserves were spent and while he was overall fine physically, he was unable to surrender himself to the Force and have it respond in turn. The Jedi Master settled in his seat, hands folded in his lap as he turned his full attention on Sanzo.

The monk glanced over his shoulder in time to see Qui-Gon sitting down. Sanzo leaned his head against the window and looked outside.

"I feel like shit," he replied. Was he expecting him to feel anything but that, after last night? Qui-Gon's movements were stiff; there wasn't any missing how the Jedi favored a leg. "You aren't looking that much better yourself either."

Sanzo licked at dry lips. "What happened after I passed out?"

Qui-Gon was frank. "I fought the two droids. After I incapacitated the one with the lightsaber, I went after the other and destroyed it as well. It wasn't like anything I've ever seen before. It was like it was created specifically to counter a Jedi, and not just for training," he said, looking thoughtful. While it was common for the droids in the Temple to be prepped to fight Jedi, he could safely say the other wasn't anything belonging to the Order. "After that, I treated your wounds as best I was able. Callisto found some kind of artifact in the training chamber and took it."

It'd been some kind of sword, obviously intended to match the shield. Qui-Gon hoped to meet up with Callisto to discuss the artifact she carried, especially now that he knew it was part of a set that might open up the door to some answers. Obi-Wan as well would need to be informed about the developments of last night. Qui-Gon went on:

"Going upstairs was out of the question. We went west. It was there we met some kind of feline-creature, who spoke and presented us with a riddle." It was still a mystery how it survived down there - hibernation, perhaps - or if it was there willingly or was serving Martin Landel. "I was given a shield artifact and told that by having two artifacts, we would be able to go down the South Hall."

There, the being told them, was another test, where there would have to be sacrifices to be made. Being a Jedi was living a life of sacrifice, in all senses of the word - a Jedi's home was the Temple, but he couldn't have personal attachments, couldn't serve his own life but lived by serving others. But, going over what he knew about Martin Landel, Qui-Gon suspected the sacrifice in question in the basement would be of a more physical, violent nature. But it would be necessary to risk it.

So those metal creatures were something from Qui-Gon's area: he didn't seem surprised to see them. Whatever they were, they definitely weren't from China and India, or from where Callisto came from.

Sanzo closed his eyes.

"Assassins just for Jedi, maybe." His voice was muffled against the window. "Somehow they knew you were coming."

The artifacts were interesting, if only for the fact that they lead to somewhere else. The question was whether that 'somewhere else' was something that would actually help them and not more of Martin Landel's bullshit.

"It could still be a trap. In case the first two didn't work..."

If they were assassins, then why hadn't they taken him two on one? Qui-Gon shook his head slowly. Thinking back to the fight, thinking back to every detail - it was a Padawan exercise to be able to recall an event and remember any seemingly small detail, like the imperfection of durasteel in the training droid's right hand - Qui-Gon knew they hadn't been fighting to kill. Injure, perhaps, but if the droids were programmed to kill him, then they would've targeted him alone.

Despite his experience, Qui-Gon knew he would not have been able to take them both. Not after healing Sanzo. And not without the Force as his ally.

"I don't think they were assassins," Qui-Gon said, weary. "But I do agree: somehow they knew I was coming. That room was made specifically to test a Jedi." Or a Sith, Qui-Gon thought, thinking back to that strange lightsaber. It'd felt right in his hand and yet it was also disquieting. "It could be a trap. Or it might not be. Dwelling on the ifs won't give us any answers: we can only act on what we know. The creature let us go after we answered the riddle. I believe what it said to be true."

It had even warned them. And it had even, in its own way, tried to warn Callisto as well, warning her against her impatience. Sometimes learning to wait was difficult, but just waiting and seeing what happened could bring you results.

Sanzo was not so quick to trust the place on their orders not to kill. Especially not with that hair-covered brute of a patient last night. Maybe the wounds themselves wouldn't have killed him, but the blood loss certainly would have.

It didn't matter that they had those orders - not in Sanzo's eyes, at least - because when it came down to it, shit had a way of happening. There was absolutely no reason to trust the institute on their "good word".

It was tantamount to handing a loaded gun to a blindfolded man scared out of his wits and shoving him into a prison. And telling him to try not to kill anyone. Good fucking luck with that.

"So you want to go back and check, even if it's a trap. At least you gave the idea a thought. I don't think your new 'friend' would have." Callisto, while definitely not as nearly annoying as Homura, was still enough to try his patience. "What happened to that glowing blade? Do you still have it?"

Qui-Gon didn't let the loss of the lightsaber's show on his face. "They're gone. I took both with me but when I woke up this morning, they were missing."

The lightsaber in the armor room had been presented almost as some kind of grotesque trophy, the blood of its owner still stained on the electrum hilt. Lightsabers were difficult to create and it took the Force and proper focus to make one that was of good quality. The two he'd seen in the Institute hadn't been like the knock-off lightsabers he'd seen occasionally in the galaxy, ones with poor hilt construction, with faulty focusing crystals. The red and blue ones he'd seen in Landels were most definitely made by someone with knowledge of the Force. How many Jedi (or Sith) had been here? Qui-Gon suspected that there was one way to find out.

The lightsabers. Martin Landel kept them. So far he knew there was himself, Obi-Wan and two mystery Force-users. That made four. But there could be more. Qui-Gon wouldn't know for certain unless they found a room where the hilts of the fallen were being kept.

"I'm planning to go investigate with a student of mine," Qui-Gon said. Obi-Wan didn't know, but Qui-Gon felt he would most likely want to come along. Callisto would have to be talked to: she was a bit of a wild card, but considering how she pressed on last night, Qui-Gon thought she might be willing to come as well despite her dislike of Sanzo. "Would you be interested in coming along? Trap or not," he said, with a dry quirk of his lips.

Now Sanzo did lift his head from the window. He settled against the seat, looking at the Jedi fully. The dry smirk was familiar, one he'd seen on Hakkai's face a few times, with that very same question, right before they jumped into something with the odds heavily against them.

Things had way of getting interesting after that.

The monk snorted.

"I need to find my dumbass ward first, but I'll go. I want to see what I nearly got killed for."

"Alright," Qui-Gon said. He was quiet for a bit, then asked. "Your ward?"

He knew Sanzo was a Force Sensitive from Earth, a member of his Earthian monk order. But he didn't know that he was a teacher as well. Qui-Gon wondered what they passed on to their students: was it a partnership, the teacher passing down guidance to his apprentice and learning in return? Or was it something else? Despite the pressing tasks at hand, Qui-Gon was genuinely curious in learning more about Earth and the order Sanzo belonged to. Both Qui-Gon and Sanzo believed in non-attachment and yet they were at opposite ends of the spectrum at what it meant to achieve it.

A Jedi never stopped learning: becoming a Knight or a Master made no difference, for to live was to learn.

It wasn't hard to catch those wheels turning in Qui-Gon's head, and like everyone else, he was getting the wrong idea. Then again, people tended to assume the best out of the group of idiots he traveled with. Gods knew why.

"Goku. He's not my disciple or anything. Just a stray I picked up." One that all but glued himself to Sanzo's side the first few years. He put up with it, for some reason. Still put up with it.

Sanzo went on. "I just want to make sure he didn't do something stupid and get himself killed."

A "stray".

Sanzo seemed to dismiss Goku.

Qui-Gon looked deeper. He noted the inflection in Sanzo's words, the particular look in the monk's eyes when he mentioned his ward's name. His mouth was turned down into a harsh scowl that didn't quite go to the eyes. Goku might not be his disciple, but despite his outward body language, Sanzo was more thoughtful than bitter. He cared for Goku. It wasn't just the casual friendship one being might have for another, but something else. Something deeper. The Jedi's smile was gentle:

"He'll probably be on the buses, then, I imagine," said Qui-Gon. "How did you come to meet your friend?"

"He's not my friend."

Sanzo's reply was almost instantaneous. Friends always implied some attachment, implied that he had to watch out for something other than his own back. There was a difference, Sanzo figured, between friendship and having someone forced upon you. That someone was also either too stupid to leave after all the shit Sanzo put him through, or he liked it.

With Goku, he couldn't tell.

"I just got him out of the hole he somehow got his ass into. It's a long story." Sanzo's tone was a very firm 'let's-leave-it-a-that'. He'd been somewhat vague to Goku's friend, but he didn't want it spreading all over the place. Somehow that moment seemed deeply personal, and not just for Goku.

Sanzo changed the subject. "You mentioned you had a student. There's more like you here?"

A touchy subject, it seemed.

Qui-Gon didn't press the point about Sanzo's friend.

Instead, he let the monk guide the conversation, changing the subject to something else. To Obi-Wan.

"Yes," Qui-Gon said. He might have a differing view than Sanzo on some things, but he trusted the monk; he didn't think he would betray Jedi. There were, of course, some things he simply didn't need to know and the Jedi Master skirted smoothly around anything particularly sensitive to his mission. "He's a friend as well as a former student. I traveled with him and worked together before Landels, back on Naboo."

There he had died in Obi-Wan's arms. Qui-Gon might have forgotten some moments of his own death, but he remembered Obi-Wan's arms cradling him, surprisingly gentle, and remembered looking up into his face. It had been only a few seconds, but those seconds stretched into eternity, more than enough time to notice the blue of his eyes, the quiver in his voice when he realized what Qui-Gon had already realized when he'd hit the floor: his Master was dying and there was no hope for him, only the Force.

That mission was over. But, in some ways, they were still dealing with the repercussions from it. Anakin Skywalker and his training. Qui-Gon's own death-that-wasn't. Among other things.

Good, he was dropping the subject. He was even learning a little something about the Jedi in the process.

Chances were, that man who joined them the night they met Jack face-to-face was that very student of Qui-Gon's.

Taking on students didn't surprise him, even they took on acolytes back in China. But it sounded like they worked in mandatory pairs while they were out. On missions, maybe?

With that kind of weapons training, Sanzo doubted it was confined to giving sermons.

"So your partnership doesn't end when he leaves your wing, is that it?" First he was a student, now Qui-Gon was referring to him as a former student. It sounded like he still hadn't quite gotten used to the change. Whatever the ritual or whatever it was that determined that status change, it was probably recent.

"It's not unheard of," Qui-Gon said. "Once a student becomes a Jedi Knight, it's possible to be assigned to missions with his or her former Master. But others also go their separate ways: it depends on the relationship of Master and Padawan."

Sometimes it happened. Sometimes it didn't: his relationship with his own Master, Dooku, had always been one of distance and while Dooku was a great, wise Jedi, Qui-Gon hadn't seen him much since they parted ways when he himself became a Knight. Qui-Gon still took all his lessons to heart except the last one, the one where Dooku told him not to connect to other beings, to always be ready for betrayal. He trusted Obi-Wan Kenobi with his life, with everything he had to give and though Obi-Wan had once before betrayed the Order and his trust as a boy, Qui-Gon viewed that incident as something that bound them closer together. Just because he had been betrayed by Obi-Wan and Xanatos didn't mean he would be unwilling to connect to others. He would be more careful, but the galaxy was not so simple that one betrayal was like the other.

You are always alone, Padawan, and betrayal is inevitable.

Betrayal may come and go, but the answer isn't distance, Master.

I am not alone. The Force is with me. There are many beings in the galaxy and I am not ever truly alone. To heed your final lesson, Dooku, is to distance myself from all beings and I will not do it, not even for you.

Qui-Gon gazed out the window, collecting his thoughts. He turned back to Sanzo, brushing his mane of graying hair over his shoulder.

"I'd imagine you have something similar in your order? Not that Goku is your disciple - or your friend," Qui-Gon said with a twinkle in his eye, almost but not quite smiling; he didn't believe Sanzo's harsh words.

I've never been much for it. Too much of a pain in the ass."

There'd been that one kid, Dougan or whatever. Aside from dealing with Goku, Sanzo remembered Dougan the most from back in China, and that was mostly because he'd been annoying on another level. It wasn't quite like Goku; as irritating as it was at times, Sanzo could understand (somewhat) where the kid was coming from. Dougan, on the other hand... the neediness was mixed with something else. He'd trailed after the monk like a dog, looked for approval just like one too. Dougan had begged Sanzo to let him come along on the mission.

Dougan thought he hid it, but to Sanzo, it was always pretty damn obvious, especially when he'd see the monk with Goku or the others. Jealousy.

He'd turned him down for a reason. Wherever he was, sooner or later, Dougan would figure out why he was unfit for the job.

"There was one, but I turned him down."

Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "Really. Is there a specific requirement to become a disciple for your order? Or did you feel that becoming a teacher was not your calling?"

For the Jedi, an initiate had to be chosen to be a Padawan before the age of thirteen, otherwise they would be shipped off to aid the galaxy in another fashion, such as with the Agri-Corps. The common practice was for individual Knights to come to the Temple from time to time and observe the initiates in training before they chose. He wasn't sure how it worked for Sanzo and his Earthian monks, but he imagined the feeling of rejection and frustration at having been turned down was the same, regardless of which planet. Those feelings would go away in time.

"How do you know if someone is...spiritually sensitive?" Qui-Gon asked. According to Sanzo, there were Force Sensitives on Earth, but their training was different. He didn't know about the abilities that the Jedi had. By learning about these monks, perhaps it would be possible to share different perspectives on the Force - no matter what name it went under.

"There are some," he admitted. He could teach if it came down to it. He did it decently enough. Sanzo just didn't care to do it.

Even so, he'd always made it pretty clear that he didn't take on students. At least with the intimacy or attention Dougan had craved.

Goku was the one exception.

At Qui-Gon's next question, Sanzo raised an eyebrow.

"It tends to manifest early. Usually as an aptitude towards tantras or whatever: they pick it up faster and have an easier time with them." Koumyou had noticed it in him early on, but that sensitivity hadn't exactly won over the other monks and acolytes. Not that he gave a shit what they thought, but they had a way of making things unpleasant.

"As for the one I turned down, it wasn't about whether he was spiritually sensitive or not." The kid had been relatively talented enough. That hadn't been the problem. "He had some issues."

Qui-Gon wasn't sure exactly what a tantra was. He assumed it was possibly some kind of monk exercise. But, like the Jedi, these young would-be monks exhibited their abilities at an early age, possibly being able to do seemingly unnatural things. He was curious as to why the other Earthians hadn't mentioned seeing any of this and then the answer came to him: the monks could be secretive, far more than what the Jedi Order was, and their existence was not known by many. Or it could be that Earthians as a whole were uncomfortable with the strange and unexplained. They didn't ask. They didn't want to see.

The Jedi Master was about to ask what kind of issues one would have to be turned down as a disciple when he noticed the buses were pulling into Doyleton. The flashes of the trees and the winding road he'd been subconsciously keeping track of even during the conversation gave way to signs of civilization. This discussion would have to be assumed another time. Qui-Gon was glad to say while Sanzo looked weak, he looked like he would recover.

The buses pulled to a stop in Magnus Park, one after another, and Qui-Gon turned to Sanzo. A polite smile crossed his face as he stood up.

"I'll contact you when we're ready to make our move," he said. The basement was deadly in ways the upstairs was not. He would need to talk to the other artifact holder, Callisto, and Obi-Wan as well. Obi-Wan had insisted on staying with his former Master for his final mission and Qui-Gon knew he was his equal. He would be in on this.

"May the Force be with you."

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Day 35: Bus 1

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