Kim Possible Porn Story: A Long Life Chapter 16

AN: I don’t own Toshimiru, Kim Possible, Ron Stoppable, Shego, Master Sensei, or Yamanouchi. Although, how does one go about buying a secret ninja school?

Thanks to everyone for their reviews.

It takes a couple hours to get Ron loaded onto the plane. Most of that time is spent arguing with Betty Director, then having her argue with the head of the medical staff, all to get Ron out of the building.

As they approach the plane, painted black with a solid blue diagonal stripe running along both sides of the body, Shego gives a slight whistle, “A Cessna Citation. Columbus right?”

Elizabeth nods, neither Kim nor Thomas paying attention to the conversation, both focused on Ron, who’s strapped to a gurney, restrained as he’s been thrashing about every so often, sedatives wearing off faster than they should.

“Amazing. They just unveiled it back in February. How’d you get a hold of one so soon?” Shego says.

Elizabeth shrugs and says distractedly, “Papa had one back-ordered back when they were first announced back in ’06.”

“Sweet” Shego says, then moves to get into the plane first, making her way up to the cabin.

After getting Ron’s gurney strapped down, and securing the IV with a steady supply of sedative to keep him asleep, everyone else takes their seats, Shego joining them, a scowl on her face, “Your pilot booted me out of the cabin” she tells Thomas.

Thomas chuckles, “He prefers being alone. He’s one of the best pilots in the world though, so I let him fly alone”

As a young woman passes out drinks to everyone, Thomas leans back in his recliner and closes his eyes, preparing to take a nap.

He’s interrupted though, by Kim, who says, “You said something back there. About how the sword trusts you. What was that about?”

Thomas opens his eyes and looks at Kim, “It has to do with my time in Asia. And the reason for being there.”

“People have asked me time and time again, when did I realize that I was immortal? That’s a tough question to answer. The realization that I was immortal ties into the events that started me on this road. The time I fell out of the tree suggested the possibility. The day the Assyrians beat me and then destroyed my village almost confirmed it. It at least confirmed that it would take a lot to kill me.”

“As for the lack of aging, I think my anger blinded me to it. Normally, I think I should have realized it by the time I was at the oldest, 50. Perhaps, if the Assyrians hadn’t wiped out my village, and my desire for revenge hadn’t forced me to keep on the move, I would have. But I was on the move so much, and rarely returned to the same place once I left, that I had no frame of reference. I never saw people aging around me. So it took a long time before my lack of aging finally sunk in.”

Sitting up, Thomas sips his drink, then continues, “Now that I think on it, I do remember a moment when I finally did realize I wasn’t aging. I was with the Kizzuwatnan army. The Assyrians had been making advances on their northern borders. I had presented myself before the king Pilliya. Impressed, he sent me to stand with his border soldiers.”

“One day, we were doing patrols…”

“Zipani, come look” Hantili, the commander of the border patrol Zipani had been sent to join, says.

Zipani, after one look around the desert scrub-land surrounding them, jogs over to the commander, “What is it?” he asks, having to look up as Hantili stood a head taller.

Hantili points off to the distance, indicating a curl of smoke ahead, “That isn’t one of ours. We’re the only ones who are supposed to be in the area. Take two men with you and investigate” Giving Zipani a stern look, he says, “You are to look only. No attacking them”

“What if they’re Assyrian?” Zipani asks with a scowl

“Especially if they’re Assyrian” Hantili says. Jabbing a finger into Zipani’s chest, he says, “I don’t know your story, but your hatred of the Assyrians has gotten around. Attack them and if we live through the assault, I’ll have you bound and gagged, then shipped back to Kizzuwatna to face charges.”

“Yes sir” Zipani says, snapping a salute and jogging back to the camp to grab two of the soldiers. Only once facing away from the commander does Zipani allow a grimace to cross his face. How dare that commander tell him what to do? He was here to kill Assyrians after all. Why else send him out here?

The next day, Zipani, along with two other soldiers, head for the smoke curling above the horizon. The smoke was deceptive. What was thought less than a couple hours walk, soon turned into several hours. By sunset that night, the small party made camp in some ruins. The two soldiers with Zipani quickly made a fire and laid down next to it and were soon asleep.

Zipani however, could not sleep. Ever since they had come to the ruins, he had been nagged by an odd sense of recognition. As such, he could not sleep. He spent the night walking around. Only when the full moon was directly overhead did he finally recognize the place. Heart hammering in his chest, he slowly spun around, a silent plea of negation on his lips. Spotting a small pile of sand off to one side against a pile of rocks that had once been the wall of a small house, he makes his way to the pile. Kneeling, he brushes the sand away, and gasps. Reaching down, he lifts up a beaded necklace, the colored stones gleaming faintly in the competing lights of the fire and the moon. He brushes his fingers against the shells and moons, the shells painted with faded icons indicating the necklace of a priest.
I swear by the Gods that I will find you Muwatti. I will find you and avenge our son’s death.

Giving a strangled sob, he turns around and runs to a small hut set against the eastern edge of the village. The wood roof had rotted away, and one of the walls had fallen completely, another well on it’s way to join the first. Stepping inside, he moves to the far end, spotting a small wooden chest, the wood remarkably well preserved.

He doesn’t open the chest, afraid to look inside. Instead, he brushes his hand against the lid of the chest, letting hot tears flow down his cheeks, falling to the sand beneath him unhindered.

“I didn’t have to ask anyone about the ruins. I knew where I was. But something in me demanded I had to know for sure. So I asked Hantili about the ruins when we got back two days later. Considering that the campfire we had sen was no more than a trading caravan, and I didn’t go berserk, Hantili was only too glad to talk to me about it. And he confirmed it. The village was indeed my home village. Wiped out and abandoned 300 years previously” Thomas says, pausing to get a refill on his drink.

“It finally sunk in. I was as good as truly immortal. I could be hurt, but as far as I knew then, I could not be killed. It seemed not even Time had any power over me. Not even the realization that my wife must have been dead hadn’t hit me that hard. After all, I could avenge her death. Who was to blame for my immortality? Who could I swear vengeance against? With no-one to blame, the emotions could go nowhere but inward.”

“And even though it took another 1500 years, I suppose that was when my desire for vengeance slowly started dying. What is vengeance and hatred when compared to eternity? Where once, not even the youngest of Assyrian children would survive an encounter with me, I started becoming lenient.”

“One day, I saw an Assyrian woman and her children. I had already killed her husband, right outside her home. She must have heard the strike. Such fear in her children’s eyes. Yet all I saw in her eyes was sorrow. And for the first time, I saw what I had become. I had become as bad as the ones who had set this path before me. After that, while I still killed Assyrian men, I never struck another Assyrian woman or child. Starting with her and her children, I let them live.”

“But while it started 300 years into my quest, it took another 1500 years or so until it was completely gone. I had lived hundreds of lifetimes in anger and hate. After awhile, I couldn’t feel it any more. I spent over a century just going through the motions before even that faded.”

“So I made my way out of Anatolia. I couldn’t face what I had done. Thousands slaughtered at my hands, all for the actions of 50. Ashamed, I fled to new lands. I didn’t stop until I had reached the coast of a different land, where the people were as different from me as night is from day. I wandered the coasts of that new land for over a century before I was found…”

“This way renxiong(1),” the young boy says, tugging on the hand of the young man to hurry his elder brother up.

“Slow down Dewei” Toshimiru says, chuckling, “Whatever it is you’ve found will still be there whether we run or walk.”

“Not likely” the boy says, “It’s a strange looking man.”

“A strange looking man?” Toshimiru asks, knowing that, most likely, his little brother is just playing pranks again. He’s come to expect such things. Ever since the death of their parents a year prior, Dewei had become more exuberant towards his brother. He followed the young man everywhere, wanting to play games and the occasional prank.
Toshimiru understands that it’s because the young boy blames himself for his parents’ death, although there was nothing he could have done. He blames himself because he had been out playing with friends. Dewei apparently thinks that if he had stayed home, he could have prevented the fire that burned the hut down.

Giving a sigh, Toshimiru makes a promise to the spirits to talk with Dewei about things. For now though, he figures he should ease the young boy’s mind and investigate the “strange looking man”.

After cutting through the rice paddy, Dewei leads his older brother down to the beach, talking excitedly, “I was collecting shells and I came across him. He looks in bad shape. Think we can help him?” Toshimiru just shaking his head in how far his little brother is willing to go for a joke.

Once they reach the beach, Dewei gets more excited, pointing to a dark lump in the sand near the water, “There Toshimiru” he says excitedly, running towards the lump, Toshimiru, now concerned, following close behind. “Easy Dewei” he says, “Be careful”

Once they arrive, it’s apparent Dewei wasn’t joking. Tangled in the seaweed is a light skinned man, musclular, with dark hair. His eyes are closed, the man grimacing in pain. The reason why is obvious. Across his face and part of his chest are a series of red welts.

“Get to the village Dewei” Toshimiru says, kneeling next to the strange looking man, “Get some help. This man has been stung by jellyfish.” As Dewei runs off to get help, Toshimiru quickly removes the seaweed, murmuring soothing words to keep the man calm. Once the seaweed is cleared, Toshimiru looks over the man, “What strange clothing” he murmurs, looking over the loose flowing silk and cotton garments the man is wearing, totally unlike the coarse material of Toshimiru’s clothing, Where do you hail from?” he asks.

Suddenly the man starts thrashing, yelling in a strange tongue, Toshimiru struggling to restrain the man, “Calm down my friend” he says, “I’m trying to help you.”

Knowing it’s more exhaustion than his words, Toshimiru sighs in relief anyways as the man gives a sigh and stops thrashing about.

After a few minutes, voices can be heard as several men approach. Once they arrive, Toshimiru sets them to work, lifting the stranger and carrying him to his hut in the center of the village. Once there, Toshimiru, in his role as village healer and mystic, has his brother get some vinegar and some oil. After Dewei brings the required items, Toshimiru gets to work.

Starting with the vinegar, he pours most of it on the man’s chest, then dabs a towel with the vinegar and gently applies it to the welts on the man’s face. After the vinegar is gently wiped away, Toshimiru uses a pair of copper tweezers and sets to work to remove the pieces of tentacles that remain attached to the man’s body and face. That takes about five minutes, and when he’s removed the pieces he can, he applies oil to the welts, and using a flat rock, scrapes the oil off, the stingers too small to be gripped by the tweezers sloughing off with the oil. Once done with that, he takes some natron (2). After grinding it up, he mixes it up with fresh water and makes a thick paste out of it. Applying it to the welts, he then takes thin strips of cloth and binds the welts. (3)

With the man still unconscious, Toshimiru ushers everyone out of the hut and goes about his day, returning to reapply the natron paste every so often.

Thomas looks like he’s about to continue when the stewardess comes and whispers in his ear. Thomas nods at her, then looks around, “We’re making our final approach to Chubu International Airport” he says, “Once there, we’ll take my helicopter to Yamanouchi”

An hour later, they’re making their way onto a helicopter, Rom being tied down once more before the helicopter lifts off.

Speaking into his headset, Thomas says, “Every person has at least one moment in their life, which they can look back upon and say “That is where my life changed on a fundamental level” Be it good or bad. I’ve had several. The day I fell out of the tree when I was 10 is my first. Meeting Muwatti was the second. The Assyrian attack on my village was the third. My return to the village 300 years later. And quite possibly the greatest change was the day I met Toshimiru. Everything that has happened to me since can be directly attributed to that chance encounter on that beach.”

“I see you are awake” Toshimiru says, entering the hut he shared with his little brother, “Hope you’re hungry” he says, presenting a bowl of some kind of cabbage soup.

The strange man looks blankly at the bowl, then looks at Toshimiru, an eyebrow raised as if asking what is in the bowl. Toshimiru laughs and sets the bowl down on a low table, then moves to help the strange man to the table, “It’s cabbage stew. Quite delicious.” Once the man is seated before the bowl, Toshimiru hands him a wooden spoon, saying, “Forgive the meager accommodations. I am just a student of the Tao”

“Dow?” the strange man asks, trying to shape the words

“Yes Tao” Toshimiru says, “I think we should save that lesson for when you can understand my words though.” Noting the blank look on the stranger’s face, Toshimiru chuckles.

Pointing to himself, he says, “Toshimiru” He points to himself again and repeats himself, then points at the man. The man watches Toshimiru, then when pointed at, he says, “Zipani”

“Nice to meet you Zipani” Toshimiru says, then proceeds to teach Zipani how to speak his language, he himself learning to speak Zipani’s language.

Smiling fondly at the memories, Thomas says, “It took several months before we were able to even hold a simple conversation. And months beyond that where I could consider myself fluent. In that time, Toshimiru and I became close friends. I can’t explain it, but there was something about Toshimiru. Some quality I could not name that made me trust him. So when I felt I could convey the concepts properly, we sat down in his hut and I told him everything. I told him of everything that had happened ever since I fell out of that tree over a millennium previously.”

“I was expecting almost any reaction. Laughter, derision. Expected him to call me a madman and banish me from his village. I expected everything except for what happened.”

I was expecting almost any reaction. Laughter, derision. Expected him to call me a madman and banish me from his village. I expected everything except for what happened.

After Zipani finishes his tale, Toshimiru sits there in silence. After five minutes pass with no response, Zipani begins to fidget nervously. “Toshimiru?” he asks softly.
At his name spoken, Toshimiru blinks and looks at Zipani with a sad smile, “What a sad tale my friend” he says, “I am sorry you had to go through that.”

He doesn’t speak for a few minutes, continuing to process what he was told. He then smiles at Zipani and says, “Come with me my friend. I must show you something”

Leaving the hut, Zipani following, Toshimiru walks north of the village, eventually coming to a cleared area. Standing in the middle of the clearing, he says, “The concept you consider time is what we call Shi. Confucius once said, while next to a river, ‘It is what passes like that, indeed, not ceasing day or night’ . He was saying that time is a river, always flowing”

Zipani nods, “Alright. I think I understand that, but…” He stops when Toshimiru raises a hand, “You, however, are the mountain. I am not referring to just the physical strength that you have demonstrated, which is impressive in it’s own right” referring to a few days ago when Zipani had lifted a boulder many times his own weight to show off, “I am referring to how you remain unchanged. All beings are affected by time. Most of us age and weaken. But not you. While we are clay against the river, you are rock.”

Zipani nods and waits for Toshimiru to continue, which he does after sitting and assuming a lotus position, “However, even the mountain cannot stand against the river forever. While you may not age, the river has changed you. Shaped you into the man you are today. A man haunted by memories and deeds of the past.”

“That’s kind of obvious” Zipani says with a chuckle, kneeling next to Toshimiru.

Toshimiru smirks and says, “You need to learn to be like the tree. Right now, you are hard and unyielding. A strong enough push and you will snap. Look to the tree. No matter how strong the wind gets, the tree does not fall. It bends and sways, and when the wind dies, the tree remains”

“How did we get from mountains and rivers to trees and the wind?” Zipani asks, shaking his head in amusement.

“They are related concepts” Toshimiru says, “The river and wind both flow, while the tree and the mountain do not. Yet the tree bends. It does not break under pressure.”

“WHy are you telling me this anyways?” Zipani asks

“Because I wish to teach you to be like the tree” Toshimiru says, “You are a good man” he raises his hand to forestall Zipani’s disagreement, “You are a good man that has faced difficult and trying times. You have lived far longer than anyone has a right to expect. And right now, you are on a path that will lead to your inevitable destruction. I cannot allow that. You are my friend and I wish for you to be at peace with yourself.”

“And with those words, his lessons began. There were times, when I despised him. He made me face my memories. Forced me to face the ones who I killed in my desire for vengeance. I swore at him. I cursed him and his lineage. Despite that, he never wavered in his lessons. And in time, I learned those lessons. He amazed me to be honest. I had lived for almost two thousand years, while he was barely 35. Yet he was far wiser than any I had ever met. He set me on the path of Tao, and I will be forever grateful to him for that.”

Looking out the window, he says, “I’m sorry I don’t have time to say more” Pointing to a very familiar mountain, he says, “We’re here”

Even Ron, unconscious as he is, seems to feel the place. He gives a sigh and relaxes, whatever nightmares plaguing him ceasing.

As they come in for a landing, people come out of the stone and wood buildings, students and teachers, surrounding the landing pad, the advanced students and teachers with weapons. Opening the door of the helicopter, Thomas steps out and begins speaking Japanese. An elderly woman responds, and he speaks again. After a moment, the crowd parts and Master Sensei steps out of the group. Spotting Thomas, Sensei smiles and bows, the others surrounding him following suit. Thomas bows in return, then speaks again, this time in English, “I have the Chosen One. He needs help that only Yamanouchi can give”.

“Of course” Master Sensei says, then indicates the helicopter. Immediately, several students break from the group and enter the helicopter, coming back out with Ron, Kim following anxiously behind as they take him to a small hut set apart from the others.

“Come on Shego” Thomas says, walking towards one of the larger buildings, “You hungry?”

“Famished” Shego says, looking around, “Nice place. You know, I thought I knew all the martial arts schools around”

“It’s a secret ninja school” Thomas says with a smirk, “Keyword, Secret. And they really know how to keep their secrets. Now come on, I smell food this way”

Bemused, Shego follows, promising herself to ask about Thomas’ connections to this place.

AN: I have more, but I think this is enough to digest for this chapter. Next chapter, Ron wakes up. And even more flashbacks.

1. I may have that one wrong. renxiong is a Chinese honorific that means you, my kind older brother. If I do have it wrong, let me know and I will fix it.
2. Natron is a naturally occuring mixture of sodium carbon decahydrate. In layman’s terms, it’s soda ash.
3. Replace oil with shaving cream, and natron with baking soda (natron is pretty much just a naturally occuring form of baking soda), and you have the actual recommended treatment of jellyfish stings, except for Portuguese Man O’ War stings. There’s a different treatment method for that. Read my stories and you may just learn a thing or two.