Tear A Path 280 Leave

Gowan stood above him, blowing at his claws and wiping them as if it was disdainful to have to even touch him to beat him.

"I don't want to fight you anymore, it's no fun!" Though he complained, Zhao Wei had a cheeky grin on his face.

[Hey it's no fun for me either.] Gowan complained, shrugging his shoulders in the process. [Crus.h.i.+ng ants is fun sometimes, but after a thousand ants you get really bored.]

"How dare you compare me to an ant!?" Zhao Wei explained as he picked himself up.

Gowan just smiled. [Actually, my insult suggests that you are no stronger than an ant to me and that I've probably beaten you a thousand times.]

"Not true, it's only been 473 times!" Zhao Wei retorted. "And I understand the joke, you don't need to explain it!"

[I was just making sure if you're as much dumber than me as you are weaker.] Gowan said nonchalantly.

"Ora!" With a roar, Zhao Wei rushed head first, launching a kick towards Gowan who simply side stepped the speeding Zhao Wei and aimed an attack under him. It was an insidious strike, right into the center of the crease where the worth of a person is collected, what defines them. Though solid in nature, it often embodies the very dignity one holds, the loss of which could upturn the world.

Though out in the open and the most critical point of the anatomy, few choose to even brush it for reasons such as mutual understanding and respect for their opponent. And yet, here was one who did not embody the respect of such customs, who would rob the future descendants of their potential.

Zhao Wei stopped in his tracks and extended his legs on either side so that he was standing on the tip of his toes, arching them as far as he could to save his most precious thing.

He could feel how close it was, the wind from those claws shredding the fabric of his pants, causing the chilly afternoon breeze to brush against the wrinkles. Did monkeys really like peaches that much!?

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After another 50 bouts or so, they ended the day as Zhao Wei watched Gowan ascend the hill.

It was better this way, probably...

There was something they didn't speak about even after spending some time together. It wasn't that hard to notice, the day he saw Gowan, he was already expecting her to show up as well like old times and ask him for new ways to cook.

Back in their old home, she probably spent more time with him than Gowan did and would always be the first to welcome him whenever he visited. The moment he saw Gowan without her trailing along or even meeting him ahead of time, he knew something was wrong.

And maybe in a kind way, Gowan expected that by spending more time with him doing rigorous training and sparring. But every moment he spent together with him simply made the s.p.a.ce she left behind all the more glaring.

It makes his flaws s.h.i.+ne like under a microscope at the same time. Not in the sense where his battles became compromised, but small little habits that seemed to linger despite the loss of her.

Like the little turn in his eye after they finished their next game, checking over his shoulder, as if looking for that one he always expected to be waiting for him. Hoping in that little piece of his heart that at any one of those thousands of times he spent in a day turning to check his back, that he'd see her standing in all she was and he'd be able to chat her up. Letting her tell him he did a good job after all his bragging.

To tell him off if he did something wrong.

To tell him something.

Anything...

Every time he watched this 'friend' of his do it, he saw a little piece break inside him as he mustered the strength to keep up a facade and take him up for another round.

He thought they were friends. But maybe he was lonely, and that quaint yet boisterous village at the corner of his hill always seemed to be so inviting, and the both of them so welcoming to him. And that t.i.tle of 'friend' he bestowed upon them, his selfishness. Not knowing they saw him as little more than a nuisance and that whatever had happened to her was not an outsider's concern.

Or maybe they had been friends.

Once.

He could've saved them.

He should've saved them.

If he'd been faster, less conceited, more prepared. There were options.

Before he failed them.

Before he set them on a path that led to her current state.

And for all he was, Zhao Wei understood the pain he was going through, he'd understood the pain of loss. Even if not in his mind and memories, in his flesh. Many nights he was awoken, startled and frightened. His hand, empty, missing the warmth another's clasp which had never been there when the night began.

And this was Gowan keeping him at an arms length, telling him that their lives had already split apart after they had intersected but once. And that he had no intention for them to intertwine once again.

And he could understand that. Not just for Gowan, even for the rest. Panda, Myra, Thirteen, Jeff, Grendolyn.

They stuck with him now, but at some point their lives would divert their paths away from his own. It was selfish for him to expect them to stay the hands of their own fates just to keep a lonesome boy company. And maybe it was about time he accepted it.

But for now, it was about time for him to leave Gowan and his now home.