1x1 -- Sarish and Stormy

[stormy tom]

James saw the sun gleamed off the master's bald head and grinned to himself, moving toward the man as he emerged.
"I'm feeling pretty good," James offered, tucking hands into his pockets. The muscles in his arms flexed under his black shirt sleeves. "Haven't slept that well in more than a year. Word is you carried me. That's pretty impressive. I'm a lot heavier than I look."
James had reduced to his more natural lean body shape after hockey. He'd lost a lot of muscle mass, but was still strong and fit, with a broad chest and solid shoulders.
He watched the man remove his shoes. "Dude, I get you've got a whole thing going on, but firstly, my feet are more than a bit bigger than yours." He nudged the sandals back toward the guy with his toe. Sweet. this guy was actually offering him to use his own shoes... that was new for him.
He hadn't even noticed he'd left his shoes in his room. They were expensive runners with soft padded soles to help reduce the impact on his bad leg. They really helped.
He noticed another thing, too. "You strain your back meditating against a tree all night?" He snorted. "Come on, you have to explain what's going on here, I'm a little lost."
He'd never had a good sense of direction anyway. At least there was no rush getting back. Nobody was waiting, nor would anyone come looking.
He was contemplating asking the monk if there was an easier way down from the mountain. Downhill on the same terrain would be absolute murder for his leg. If there was any way to get a helicopter up here that would great. Or a car, anything. Even an easier pathway...

[Sarish]

Sarish's smile brightened when we heard that James was doing better. I've heard visitors swear that this monastery has "healing properties," but never on the first night. He must have the stamina of a draft horse. The monk mused, noticing that the lines of exhaustion on the Canadian had lessened greatly. "Ah yes, just to your room. My apologies, I met quite a few apprentices in the hallway that must have spread the news of a new visitor like wildfire."

A bit startled at James' amused comment on his shoe size, he glanced down at his own feet. Then at James' feet. "Oh, my mistake." He conceded, uncharacteristically embarassed. "Well, we can't have you walking around without shoes on... And it's still warming up out here after last night, so shall we head back to the monastery?" Sarish offered.

The monk was even more startled to hear the Canadian's observation of his stiffness, though he kept his expression bright. I'm usually adept at ignoring or masking when my back is hurting me... I'll have to be more careful. While the young master had no qualms about letting others know about his bad back, he had realized long ago that once people knew, they tended to... Pity him? No, that's not the right word... Baby him. They would smile kindly and offer to do things for him, or frown and say "Shouldn't you be resting?" It was one of the few things that really got on his nerves; he was quite capable, thank you very much. Visitors were probably the worst offenders, though many of the apprentices and masters who were kind to him would also point out his own weakness. Like I wasn't aware of it already. Sarish thought wryly. He doubted that James would be the same-he was certain that the young man had been treated similarly, like he was broken-but considering he wasn't having a bad episode, he decided that it wasn't anything important that he had to disclose at the moment.

"Yes... I have a bad habit of meditating outside at night and then falling asleep. It's just some stiffness, it'll pass soon. Thank you for your concern," The monk answered with a warm smile, gratitude blooming in his chest. "And yes, of course. What would you like to know?" That was a good sign. Curiosity might mean that James was considering staying!

[stormy tom]

James nodded in agreement, watched the smaller man's slight embarrassment as he reclaimed his footwear. Now that's just a adorable, he thought with a half-smirk. The Canadian resisted addressing the monk as 'little man', as he probably would have under different circumstances. James was under the habit of choosing... unflattering nicknames for people.
He started to head back up to the monastery, to his room, and to his shoes, relying on Sarish's to guide him: his sense of direction was dubious at best.
As they walked his mind started working on what the monk had said about his back. This guy seemed smart enough not to do something like falling asleep meditating (even if they seemed like the same thing to James). And he wasn't that old... Plus he was a parent a master which meant he knew his stuff.
James dismissed the thought and accepted the monk's explanation. Ah, he was about to get some answers. Like why he was still here...
"What do you guys even do up here?" He frowned, glancing at his new friend and trying to mask his curiosity under speculation and suspiciousness. Like he would even care what some weird monks did in their mountain temple...
He reached his room and saw his socks and shoes by the door. James sat on the floor and started to put them on once he'd dusted his feet with a hand. He used the wooden door frame to pull himself up, since there was no bed or furniture to use instead. Living alone had meant he'd gotten good at getting back up on his own. His leg couldn't push the weight of his body up right from the ground, not at that angle. Generally he tended to avoid sitting on the ground if he could, but the way he pulled his body up suggested he was well used to finding one way or another of getting himself standing again, without hurting his leg. It was just part of his life now, his routine.

[Sarish]

"The permanent inhabitants of the monastery don't exactly... 'do' much. Or, at least, we don't do much outside of our regular duties," Sarish stated slowly, trying to figure out how best to word his explanation so that it was easy to understand but not vague enough to be confusing. "The monastery doesn't exactly follow a religion, though we take most of our practices and many of our beliefs from Buddhism. Almost all of the monks are from villages in the surrounding areas, and about half of them are brought here or chosen to study here when they are about 8 years of age. They start off as apprentices, those are the monks you see with the brown robes, and through study and practice can eventually become masters, who wear the blue robes. There is the Head Master as well, who is leader, if you want to call him that. His title is technically 'Grand Master', but he prefers Head Master. He likes to think of himself as a teacher. He wears yellow robes."

Sarish paused his narrative for a moment as they maneuvered back to James' room. I should be telling him about what we actually do here. Goodness, I need to keep my rambling in check. "We teach many different things here, including meditation, as you saw, purifying the body and soul, and how to improve physical and mental health. Spiritual as well, if you believe in that. For the younger apprentices we also teach some basic subjects, like English-as most people speak Nepalese-, geography, math, and how to read and write. Although in recent years, we have been getting many visitors to our monastery, so a lot of our focus has been on teaching them as well, if they so desire. They technically don't become apprentices, but they are usually treated very well. Many of the monks love to hear stories of different lands. You could become very popular," Sarish admitted with a grin. Then his words caught up with him. He never said he'd stay. Don't be so presumptuous! "Ah, though if you would like to leave, the monthly supplies should be here in a week or so... They arrive in a large caravan of donkey-drawn carriages that delivers to most of the monasteries on this side of the mountain. They're always happy to bring people down the mountain, though they'll probably talk your ear off the entire way." He was rambling again.

I wonder if the Head Master is waiting for me to introduce him to James... Probably. I can't put that off much longer. "Actually, would you be alright with meeting the Head Master now? All visitors are required to meet with him, even if you decide that you're not going to stay."

[stormy tom]

The Grand Master? Huh, cool... James nodded slowly to himself but paused at the bit about healing.
A far away look came into his eyes. No, he knew his leg wasn't getting any better. That was it for him. He'd had all kinds of specialists take a look. Frankly, he was lucky to still be able to walk unaided at all. He shook his head slowly and moved past Sarish.
"Sure dude, let's go." He was great full for the info though. It would be easier to ride down than walk. No more walking... he thought. He wondered for a moment if he would make it... he'd made those stairs after all.
A thought struck him. "Hey... did you really mean what you said to me when I walked up those stairs?" He dared to ask. "And why are you so intent on having me?"
He'd never been popular. He almost laughed at the idea. James bad never been able to make friends due to his downright unpleasant personality. He'd been in a lot of fights. He could tell Sarish wanted him to stay, for whatever reason. James was naturally perceptive, although he wouldn't admit it and was generally too busy brooding to use the ability.
But Sarish was the first person to genuinely care, and want his presence, making it hard to ignore. James couldn't not think about it. Couldn't stop himself from wanting to stay and feeling whatever this kind man was making him feel.
Maybe home really could wait.

[Sarish]

Sarish watched, dismayed, as a frown settled on James’ features, as his eyes became distant and unfocused. He wasn’t sure which part of what he had said had upset the Canadian, though sympathy and regret made his smile fade a bit. I wish I could take it back… The monk knew full well that he was thinking of James as a friend, and not a student, which was understandable considering that no plans had been made yet, but it would be more difficult to see the young man as a student in the future. Relax. I hate it when people are sympathetic to me… I should be careful not to treat James like someone that needs to be fixed.

He jolted out of his thoughts when the young man spoke again, moving out of his room, and Sarish quickly followed him out into the hallway, taking the lead as he maneuvered through the halls of the massive monastery, the location of everything it housed deeply ingrained in his mind. He could probably walk through the halls blind with no trouble. The young master listened as James voiced his questions, stopping abruptly in his tracks. He turned to face the Canadian, no smile on his serious face now as he responded.

"I did not lie to you, James. I meant every word I said, do not doubt that. You are an amazing person, and you are much stronger than you think." Sarish paused. Why did he want James to stay? "I... I suppose that I feel like I have a lot in common with you, as ridiculous as that sounds. I would like to get to know you. And I would like to be able to show you that your leg is not as much of a hinderance as you think it is. Or, in the very least, find a master who can." He stated easily, truthfully. Without waiting for a response, Sarish turned and continued walking towards the Head Master's study, mind determined now.

He stopped in front of the room at the very end of the hall, taking a deep breath. "Head Master," he called softly.

"Enter," came the response, and Sarish pulled open the sliding door, ushering James inside before stepping inside himself. The Head Master's study was about twice the size of the master's rooms, sporting a desk, two potted plants, and a floor-to-ceiling glass door that looked the training grounds located in the back of the monastery. Head Master Abhijat knelt behind his low desk, his wizened face tilted up to look at the new arrivals, serious eyes examining them both. An African Grey parrot perched on one corner of the desk, examining a piece of fruit clutched in its talons with a critical eye. Sarish gave a low, respectful bow, careful to make no reaction to the protest his back gave.

"Rise, Brother." The young master straightened, gesturing for James to kneel on one of the mats spread out on the floor in front of the desk as he lowered himself slowly onto one of his own.

"Head Master," Sarish greeted, inclining his head once more.

"Young Master Sarish. And you must our newest arrival." The Head Master greeted in a soft, heavily accented voice. He turned to the younger monk. "I was told that this young man arrived yesterday. I was told this by one of the apprentices, yet they said that you were the one who brought him in. Why did I have to hear this from them and not you?" The old man asked in Nepali.

"My apologies," Sarish answered in English. "I thought it would be better for you to meet him yourself."

"Hmm," The Head Master hummed. The African Grey whistled once before deciding the fruit was good enough to eat, delicately picking at it now. Master Abhijat then turned to James. "Welcome, traveler. I heard that you arrived at the monastery unconscious. Are you alright? Do you require any medical attention?"

[stormy tom]

James made sure he was looking Sarish in the eyes when he got his reply. He didn't reply. He'd gotten all the information he needed. The monk really had meant it when he'd said those things. And that was all James needed. He just didn't know what to do with the information.
It was easier when people doubted him, because he could resent them for it, be angry at them, and sometimes even try to prove them wrong. That was so much easier than accepting a compliment and the encouraging words of Sarish. That took work. that meant he had to try to pull himself out the pit he'd dug for himself. And right now there was no incentive.
But it still felt good.
My leg hinders me just as much as I think it does. Changing my state of mind won't magically allow me to run, James thought, but even he was doubting the first part of that...
He followed Sarish to the Head Master's room, eyeing suspiciously at the parrot. But he obeyed the gesture to sit, carefully lowering himself onto the mat. He tucked his good leg under him, but didn't dare try to fold his bad one under himself, respect or not. Twisting it and sitting on it like that would do it no good. Instead he stretched it out in front of him and leaned back on the palms of his hands, taking in the room with an eye for detail. He ignored the Nepali conversation, assuming it probably had something to do with him. He was more interested in the parrot, anyway.
The Head Master's questions drifted to his ears and he returned his focus to the old man. His scowl deepened. Just how many people had seen him flop to the floor like a soggy noodle? Great first impression, Hunter.
"What can I say, I'm a deep sleeper," James replied. "Maybe you should consider changing the architecture." He was referring to the stairs. Medical attention? Unless you've got a time machine, you can't help me out wizard-man.

[Sarish]

Sarish watched as the parrot swiftly finished off the piece of fruit, clicking its beak once before turning its head over its shoulder to preen its grey feathers, completely disinterested in the rest of the inhabitants of the room.

The Head Master didn't respond to either comment. "So, sir. Did you happen to stumble upon our little abode, or are you where you are supposed to be?" He asked slightly cryptically, leaning forward. "Are you planning to stay for a while, or will you be departing shortly?"

"Ah, Head Master," Sarish interrupted, planning to deflect the older monk's straightforward questions, knowing that James had probably not made a decision yet, but the Head Master held up a hand and he closed his mouth. The African Grey turned its head at the sudden absence of sound, studying the young master for a moment before apparently deciding that the man wasn't going to say anything more before returning to its grooming. Sarish lowered his head again, glancing at James out of the corner of his eye. I did not think that the Master would ask so soon... Usually he is much more talkative with our visitors... The young Nepalese man thought, puzzled.

[stormy tom]

This guy is like a brick wall, James thought to himself, feeling the naturally antagonistic portion of his personality flare up. Then the questions came and caught him slightly off guard.
"I have nowhere to be but an empty house in Toronto," James replied, folding his arms over his chest, making his broad shoulders stand out. "And frankly I like Bruce Willis here better than an empty kitchen. Surprises me too, I know." He flicked his gaze to the parrot against, then back to the Head Master. He'd never felt intimidated in his life, partly because he belligerently refused to allow anyone to stand over him, physically or psychologically. That problem was usually solved best with a punch (which might be why James had gotten into so many fights as a kid and still more throughout his life), but obviously he wasn't going to tackle the Head Master. But hold his ground he most certainly would. Nobody put barriers up like stubborn James.
"Currently, I'm thinking I might stay just to see how long it takes for you to want to get rid of me," James felt the corner of his mouth quirk in a small challenging smile. Expecting hostility was a sort of defence mechanism, a preparation for failure and rejection. What if they really didn't want him to stay? Then he would still feel some sense of accomplishment by tricking his mind into making that the goal.
It was stupid. Sometimes, when he was aware of it, James thought about it. But it was the only way he knew how to behave. The Canadian had never learned anything else, certainly nothing that had ever worked. This was his best defence, his best reply.
He thought about what Sarish had told him. You're stronger than you think you are... Was that true? Maybe there was a way to find that out. Maybe staying was it.

[Sarish]

The Head Master raises his eyebrow at the Bruce Willis comment, and Sarish quickly interjects in Nepali, his pronunciation smooth and flawless. "He is referring to me." The old man nods silently before turning his attention back to James, absorbing his confrontational words without emotion.

"Very well," he says with a thoughtful hum. The parrot pulls its beak from its feathers, yawning widely. It turns to gaze out at the empty courtyard through the glass door. "You are more than welcome to stay. I assume you already have a room?" Sarish nods. "Good. I hope you will find what you are looking for. You can meet the masters at the midday meal; I will summon them to meet you, and you will be able to choose who you wish to teach you. Or, in the very least, who will be responsible for you." The Head Master explains, leaning back so that his spine is straight. "Master Sarish will lead you back to my study when it is time."

Sarish bit the inside of his lip. This is so unlike the Head Master... He is usually much more attentive and polite... His thoughts were in turmoil, and as elated as he was that James was deciding to stay, the Master's attitude was worrying. He hoped that his distant attitude was not because of James... Though it wouldn't make sense if it was. He's met with ruder people, all of whom he treated with the utmost respect. What's different?