The Gaze of Caprice (The Caprice Trilogy Book 1)

by Cole Reid

  “That true,” said Master Song, “Let’s see how you do against your old opponents and your new ones.” Xiaoyu spent a good fifteen minutes showing the wood dummy his new prowess. His hits were faster and harder than the dummy remembered and his endurance was measured in long intervals. Even when Xiaoyu finished with the dummy, he wasn’t as tired as the dummy would have hoped. It was more the dummy practicing withstanding blows than Xiaoyu working on his technique. The boy was good.

  “Let’s go to the place where you’ll have your match,” said Master Song.

  “Why now?” asked Xiaoyu.

  “There’s nothing more for you to do here,” said Master Song, “Everything you have to learn is there.”

  “What’s to learn there?” asked Xiaoyu.

  “Business,” said Master Song.

  “What business?”asked Xiaoyu.

  “The business of being a Jade Soldier,” said Master Song.

  “How does it work?” asked Xiaoyu.

  “You’ll see,” said Master Song, “I won’t but you will.”

  There were people, seemingly programmed people. They filed into the underground storage space beneath the Fish Emporium like unscripted extras—for the sake of appearances. The space was almost silent except for the sounds of feet on swept concrete and bodies shifting in steel chairs. Master Song had dropped Xiaoyu off at the Emporium and registered his name on the fight card. The Moons had listed him under the name Li Xiaoyu, a name he objected to. The ringmaster insisted it was too late to change the name because bets had been placed. Xiaoyu made him a simple offer: the name would be changed or he wouldn’t fight. After a brief talk, Master Song left Xiaoyu sitting in a chair on the back row of the southeast side of the cage—the side he would enter from. Xiaoyu sat soundless in the chair at the end of the row, wearing the black silk shirt that Master Song had given him before his first fight. His hands were covered with new cotton wraps. The wraps were all he would get, that and his mouthpiece. This fight would be like the storage facility, like the school grounds of Kuandian—gloveless. Xiaoyu would get no protection for his head, body or limbs. Every blow would count against him. There was nothing to protect him if he couldn’t protect himself.

  The arena began to fill up rapidly as men and women found seats together. There were no greetings. The people found seats and sat in them and that was all they did. Xiaoyu hadn’t been told much about his opponent and he didn’t ask. He sat preternaturally still in his back row chair and tried to keep his thoughts from straying off a single topic—the wood dummy. He reminded himself that the dummy was the face of all his opponents, so he set his mind to knocking on wood. The movement in the arena slowed significantly as most people sat down. Xiaoyu sucked the unfresh air in his lungs and let it out. He hadn’t seen daylight for hours and became jittery. He had his eyes clothes for minutes at a time trying to keep his mind as still as his body. He didn’t notice a confident looking teenager walk into the arena with three grown men. The boy was about sixteen and was escorted to the other side of the cage, opposite Xiaoyu. Xiaoyu only opened his eyes when a hand came down on his shoulder. Deni Tam’s hand.

  “He’s from Thailand,” said Deni.

  “Who?” asked Xiaoyu.

  “The boy you’re fighting,” said Deni looking up at the cage, “The path of the Jade Soldier goes through many countries.” Xiaoyu sat silent knowing Deni was keen on giving advice on topics he had no knowledge of.

  “He’s a Muay Thai fighter, so he’ll be relying on his legs and knees. They strike with shins too,” said Deni.

  “You studied it?” asked Xiaoyu. Deni shook is head.

  “I know it,” said Deni, “When they call your name just go up to the cage and step in on your side. You can stretch and do whatever you want. First you’ll hear a long whistle, that’s to let you know that the fight is about to start. Shortly after the whistle will be a bell. After the bell, you and your opponent will attack each other. Is it clear?”

  “Yes,” said Xiaoyu.

  “It’s pretty simple,” said Deni. Deni got quiet as a low-volume song began to play. The song was instrumental and relaxing, more appropriate for a sauna than a cage match. A man’s voice sullied the song from a speaker system in the back. An employee still wearing his blue Fish Emporium shirt unlocked the door on Xiaoyu’s side of the cage before going to the opposite side and doing the same. The announcer in the back acknowledged Xiaoyu’s opponent from Thailand first. The boy’s name was Tada Danpae. He was a Muay Thai fighter like Deni said. His age was given as fifteen and it was said he had never lost. The next fighter was introduced as a local Sanda boxer from Hong Kong. Xiaoyu was confused because he wasn’t from Hong Kong. The announcer went on to say that he was also undefeated. It wasn’t until the fighter’s name was announced that Xiaoyu realized he wasn’t forgotten. The fighter’s name was Heigui. The name took the crowd by surprise because it wasn’t the same as when they placed their bets. But the fighter’s background matched and the fight was announced as Gregory. If a fighter had been changed then the name of the card would have been changed as well. It became clear that one of the fighters wanted a last-minute name change. The change would have angered Deni but the name amused him and the crowd didn’t seem bothered.

  Hearing his name, Xiaoyu stood up and took off his shirt. He made his way toward the cage and up the steps. As he passed into the light, the crowd became a collective drunk. Random noises were blurted out and whispered hisses ricocheted back and forth. Xiaoyu entered the cage bare-chested for the first time since his visit with the Artist. It was the first time he showed his Mark. The majority of the audience had no idea of the significance of the tattoo but they were bedazzled that a thirteen year-old boy could have such extensive ink. They all wondered who would do such ink work on a child. All of their thoughts were wayward. Although Xiaoyu was young, he had never had the opportunity to be a child. A group of seven men on the eastern side of the cage were among the few to accurately evaluate Xiaoyu’s tattoo. They were Blues—members of the Blue Dragons Triad branch. They were the only collection of more than two people who bet entirely on Xiaoyu and they bet in large amounts. One of them bet much more than the others. He was in his early forties and feeling a bit sentimental. He wore a tight fitting shirt with a gold chain around his neck. He had a black blazer on the outside and blue jeans. He had three rings on three fingers of his right hand. He put more money than he should have on Xiaoyu but he couldn’t help himself—the boy was family. His 50,000 Hong Kong dollars was a vote of confidence in his younger brother. In addition to his chain, his rings and his clothes he was wearing the same tattoo.

  Xiaoyu stepped into the cage and realized he was alone. The single row of low bay lights made much of the audience melt into molten sensory perception. They were seen a little, smelled a little, heard a little, felt a little but tasted a lot. Xiaoyu could feel the audience and understand their collective mind. The audience had the flavor of brutality. They were all accepting of violence; they just preferred to participate at a distance when possible. Xiaoyu never had that opportunity. It would be years before he accepted such an opportunity existed. He stood in the cage feeling lonely without an opponent. His opponent’s name had been announced first but a few adults had seen to giving him an earful before he was locked in the cage. The same employee with the Fish Emporium uniform put the padlock on the cage door where Xiaoyu had entered and clamped it to lock. Xiaoyu had to wait another two minutes before the same thing happened with the other door. While Xiaoyu waited, many patrons began to reconsider their bet, those who put money on Xiaoyu’s opponent. A fighter who was slow to get into the cage might be slow at other things: slow to attack; slow to recover; slow to get up or just slow in general. It was an early sign, not definitive, but not a good one.

  Xiaoyu felt a welcoming feeling when his opposite stepped into the cage. He never grew up playing with other boys, the others wouldn’t allow it. If they came near him at all, it was in numbers with fists and feet flying. Bu
t here was a boy who came alone, locked in the same cage. Xiaoyu welcomed him with an almost smile. The boy’s skin was dark like Xiaoyu’s, but not as dark. His lips were darker than Xiaoyu’s and his hair was longer, not measured by his having hair. His hair was longer than any of Xiaoyu’s other opponents. Xiaoyu looked every bit the Jade Soldier with a shaved head. Without his sister, he did it himself. The distinctions between the two sides and two ideas were apparent with both fighters in the cage. Xiaoyu’s opponent was a Muay Thai fighter from Thailand, a rockstar. His gelled hair was combed neatly to the side and came down to the middle of his neck, a heartthrob. He wore red-orange shorts with gold trim and red hand wraps to match. Xiaoyu was different. His endless tattoo looked involuntary for a thirteen year-old and it was everywhere. His hand wraps were unbleached cotton, his shorts were standard black—cheap. Xiaoyu represented the Moons adequately—no flare, no fluff, no nonsense. The two fighters were in the same cage but worlds apart.

  The Thai fighter began jumping up and down to loosen his body and keep his muscles warm. Xiaoyu paced the length of the cage measuring it by his own footsteps. Xiaoyu hadn’t finished his calculation when he heard the long horn and its short echo. His opposite stood still in the middle of the cage. Xiaoyu was unconcerned. The bell was about to ring. The fight was about to start but he wanted to get in as much of his calculation as he could—then. Ring. The sound was different than what Xiaoyu expected. A fast pace started with a fast kick to the outside of Xiaoyu’s left thigh. Xiaoyu blocked with his arm but the force of the kick drove his arm into his leg. His opposite kept a rhythmic bounce never leaving the ground but dancing on the balls of his feet. He was agile and he telegraphed his movements not at all. He launched a succession of low kicks at Xiaoyu’s legs. He seemed to be targeting the back of Xiaoyu’s knees and thighs. The rapid succession of kicks forced Xiaoyu to keep changing position. Xiaoyu jumped to the right if his opponent kicked with his right leg and he jumped to the left if kicked left. When Xiaoyu was certain he had a good understanding of his opponent’s speed and capability, he wanted to test him. Xiaoyu lunged right and threw his left shoulder at his opponent—just the shoulder. The fake caught the boy off guard because Xiaoyu had only been defending himself for the better part of thirty seconds. The boy jumped back confused why nothing came his way. Xiaoyu posed with his right foot off the ground. The boy reacted but Xiaoyu’s foot never came more than ten centimeters off the ground. Tada began to settle his mind on disappointment. He had come all the way to Hong Kong from Thailand to face a lame duck—too afraid to even go in for a hit. Tada realized he should end his opponent quickly, it was obvious the other boy was younger, probably inexperienced. Tada thought it would be good to show his younger opponent what kind of competition could come his way. Tada began a fast combination of kicks and punches meant to overwhelm his opponent. Xiaoyu responded to Tada’s advance in an unexpected way. Tada’s first kick was blocked; the second kick with the same leg missed, as Xiaoyu jumped by it. Tada used his spinning momentum to turn 360-degrees and roundhouse kick at Xiaoyu’s head. It didn’t work. The spin was fast but Xiaoyu knew it would be. He also knew his back was about one meter from the cage wall and he had to go forward. Xiaoyu caught Tada at 330-degrees of a 360-degree spin. Xiaoyu planted a front push kick in Tada’s stomach, forcing him back. He used his forward motion and the surprise contact to hit Tada with a quick jab to the side of his face, but that was it. Xiaoyu stopped advancing to save energy. Both boys knew Tada was leading if points were counted, but only Xiaoyu fully understood the fight was between the two of them. What the observers saw counted for nothing. The punch to Tada’s face frustrated him. The gloveless punch landed hard against his left cheekbone. He held lingering thoughts that his face was left distorted. Tada advanced with a short two-one jab combination and proceeded to arrest his opponent’s defenses by aiming kicks at Xiaoyu’s ribs. Xiaoyu was forced to drop his elbows to protect his ribs. Tada gave Xiaoyu a retaliatory jab to the face but from further back the jab lacked much of the force that Xiaoyu’s had. The jab caused Xiaoyu to back up. Tada approached Xiaoyu in full advance—jabs and hooks. Tada kept Xiaoyu against the cage with punches and kicks to his calves. Tada’s pace began to slow noticeably. Xiaoyu used his arms chambered around his head to protect himself. As Xiaoyu’s body absorbed blow after blow, his mind absorbed detail after detail. Xiaoyu calculated, while draining punches off his opponent. His opponent was draining himself. Xiaoyu thought about the energy he had been saving. In his head, he had his energy level nearly one and a half times that of his opponent. So much energy crowded into so tight a space caused an explosion. Xiaoyu cradled his body into his opponent and wrapped his arms around the boy’s lower torso. In one motion, he heaved Tada off his feet spun him around and changed their places. Xiaoyu toppled Tada in the same corner where he himself had stood immediately before. Tada came down hard on his tailbone using his arm to brace against the cage during impact. The force of the fall was disorienting, as was the realization of how tired he was. Tada only realized how tired fighting made him by taking a break from it. All kicks and punches had exhausted him. He could notice it from his spot on the floor because he was too tired to get up and clearly no longer in the fight. That didn’t mean the fight was over. Xiaoyu’s knee made contact with Tada’s nose, breaking it. Xiaoyu grabbed two adjacent sides of the cage wall for leverage. With Tada down and tending a broken nose, Xiaoyu had free reign. Xiaoyu systematically stomped the flesh ball in the corner. His heel came into contact with various bones and muscle. He didn’t discriminate; Tada was an empty and open target. After hearing the crack of bone a second time, Xiaoyu claimed a victory to himself. He stopped kicking Tada to end the time for injury and let whatever healing begin. He took two steps back. In the light, it was clear from all directions there was only one person standing in the cage. From some given angles, it appeared as if only one person was in the cage at all.

  Xiaoyu looked down at the mess he made out of the boy he met. He searched for signs of life among the wreckage. There were faint movements in the boy’s fingers and legs. Xiaoyu wasn’t sure if the movements were reflex or voluntary. Tada rolled over. He crouched on his knees trying to crawl. He couldn’t. Xiaoyu studied the boy for seconds and realized he was trying to move out of the corner. No creature living or dying felt comfortable being cornered. Xiaoyu was the only person in the entire room who understood. Xiaoyu grabbed Tada’s right arm. He dragged Tada to the center of the cage, the broken ribs feeling like being dragged over sharp rocks. Tada let the audience share his suffering. As Xiaoyu dragged him, he shrieked loud enough to wake his half-dead self. When his body stopped moving, the pain lost much of its sting but the sharp rocks had awakened his consciousness, making him more aware of his own pain. Xiaoyu didn’t have time to feel sorry for Tada, a sudden banging on the cage got his attention. He looked to his right to see Deni on the other side of the cage wall. Xiaoyu’s eyes met with Deni’s. Deni brought his hand in front of his face with his thumb tucked in showing only four fingers. Xiaoyu squinted trying to understand the message. It wasn’t numbers. It was language, Mandarin. The Mandarin word for the number four sounded like the word for death. Deni was asking Xiaoyu for murder. Xiaoyu raised his right hand and made a hook with his index finger—the symbol for the number nine, speaking the same language. The number nine in Mandarin sounded like the word for to save. Xiaoyu was pleading for Tada’s life. Deni shook his head and flashed the number four emphatically. The joints in his fingers seemed to lock. Xiaoyu looked at Tada. He was lying on his back with his right arm outstretched and his left arm covering his ribcage, as if to protect them from further assault. Xiaoyu thought of several ways he might end Tada’s life. He settled his mind on using his heel to cave the boy’s chest in. Then he just stood. He stood so long, loud whistles erupted from the crowd. He wasn’t sure what the whistles meant. Xiaoyu didn’t know what the audience would rather see. The only one to mention the boy dying was Deni. That wasn’t enough. Xiaoyu suddenly re
alized the principle of the cage. You could lock two opponents in a cage and hope for anything but the caged-two were the only ones to decide. The two were locked in, but the world was locked out. Deni was locked out. There was an ultimate power in locking the world out. Xiaoyu decided if Deni wanted the boy dead, he could open the cage and do it himself. It was too easy for him to be outside and make demands. Xiaoyu turned around with his back facing Tada. It was an easy signal to everyone that he wasn’t going to do anything else. The fight in the caged world was over. It didn’t make a difference the reaction on the outside. Xiaoyu stood with his back facing Tada. Xiaoyu had his back turned to his opponent for an apparent hour that was a presumptive minute. The crowd started to laugh. The baby boy wasn’t ready to get his hands dirty. Their logic was flawed. Xiaoyu was used to getting his hands dirty but he had shown his prowess. As far as Xiaoyu was concerned, he didn’t have to kill the other boy.

  After standing for too long, Xiaoyu ran toward the side of the cage where he entered. With one bounce against the cage wall he was able to go up and over. Dropping almost four meters to the hard concrete floor. He felt the impact in his knees and ankles. He ran through the crowd and up the stairs in the southeast corner. A white-tiled four-by-three meter room used to clean fish tanks and equipment was at the back of the Emporium. It doubled as a shower room for survivors. All blood had to be washed down the drain before fighters left the Emporium. The room smelled of fish to match its purpose. Xiaoyu went to the far side of the room and stood below the spigot; he turned his head sideways staring at the corner. He closed his eyes meditating on the corner, not the one in the room or the one in the cage but the idea itself—the place where the floor and the walls met and ended together. For Xiaoyu the corner represented the utmost cooperation, it wouldn’t exist if all sides didn’t meet. Xiaoyu felt like he learned something. Fighting wasn’t about being against; it was about cooperation. He understood he won the fight because of Tada’s cooperation. Xiaoyu wasn’t one to show off but Tada was. Someone had to give the crowd a show. Tada ran through his arsenal for the crowd’s sake, while running through his energy for Xiaoyu’s sake. Cooperation. Xiaoyu wasn’t interested in show. He was interested in survival. The difference was great. Xiaoyu moved toward the corner and dropped his shorts. He went back to the water spigot and turned the water on. He let the water soak his hand wraps making them heavy. He unwrapped his hands and tossed the wraps in the corner with his shorts. Dipping his head in the water he heard the loud rush. He tilted his head downward letting the faucet decapitate him. All he heard was the water rush, a marathon. But he didn’t hear foot steps and he didn’t see shadows. He saw only the warm white static rushing down the sides of his face. Without warning, he felt an immense pulse. The pulse sent him flying forward into the tiled wall. He felt it again. A tickle. A burn. His body instinctively moved away from the sensation, but there was no where to go. The pulse kept coming. Repeatedly flicking him in the back. He fell to the floor, eyes on the corner. The pulse kept coming. It hurt like punishment. Xiaoyu saw black shoes that disrupted the pristine white tile in the room. Suddenly the pulses ended. Xiaoyu could feel his throat and struggled to catch his breath. A hand grabbed his face forcing his cheeks inward to his teeth. The hand tightened its grip sending the pain in a circle around his face. The hand angled his head upward forcing him to stare into eyes lit like coals. It took him several seconds to orient his mind. The eyes were unfamiliar but the face was Deni’s. He was staring at Xiaoyu with a piercing look. There were at least two people behind him, dressed in black.