Chapter 9 Sour Past Kids
Xiaoyu
I’m familiar with the saying “don’t cut your flowers to show someone you’re a gardener” all too well. In this dream, I am a whole bouquet of dead flowers. My thorny stems reach for shears, and I am dismembering myself. I have a dozen heads, and each one of them is snipped by blunt, rusty metal.
The bitter metallic taste seeps in like a disease. I can’t tell which eye I’m seeing through. I can simultaneously see me cutting myself, and seeing my many heads roll all over the floor, leaving bloody tracks.
A headless, skinny, naked body flops around.
It clumsily and blindly collects all of my heads and impales them all on what looks like wooden chopsticks.
It takes me a moment to realize that this body is mine.
I see that birthmark on my rib. Feelings aren’t registering as fast as it should, while a large ominous figure appears in every corner of my multi-headed vision.
In a screaming chorus, I say, “Am I who you want me to be now, Mother?”
As my many heads screech that horrible song, I feel something in me. Somewhere lower, closer to my…pussy. Even in this dream, I cringe at the vulgar use of words. I’m not used to them. A bad word earned you a slap on the mouth. Sometimes it’s a hand, sometimes it’s a metal ruler.
I gasp as I see my set of eyes roll back. My nipples pucker, body loosening. Something feels good, and I don’t know where it’s coming from. The ghastly sight of my body and heads disappear, and the dark figure takes center stage.
It is built like tendrils of black smoke that someone just balled up hastily.
There are threads reaching for me in the air, giving it features like an arachnid.
It is small right now, but I feel it. It is anything but small…
Its energy is just leashed, and I know that if it does not hold back, it can destroy me. Consume me.
My eyes snap open and I am greeted by the imposing figure of the Terra male.
The moonlight touches his strong, limber physique.
The intimidating etchings covering most of his flesh makes me blink.
A normal Xiaoyu reaction to this should be wariness.
I am self-aware enough to know I have unfair views regarding tattoos…
But with him, it feels like I’m damning myself the more I stare and judge.
When I look at him, I am the one judged. Not the other way around.
My gaze flickers away from his torso and I focus on his lips instead. It’s a mistake. He is sensually licking the knuckle of his index finger. His eyes are clearer now that I had to hold back a gasp. They glow ever so faintly. Violet eyes.
Momentarily, my brain short-circuits, and I can’t remember his name.
“Can you see now?” I blurted out. I can ask myself the same thing. My sight is unusual.
He is still for a moment before pinching that same index finger and thumb close together. A little.
I shuffle around the soft sheets and jump as soon as I see my state of undress.
Immediately, my blood boils. “Why the fuck am I naked?” Covering myself with my hands isn't enough. It’s instinct, to be violent when I see myself on a bed, naked when I know full well I slept with clothes on.
Nobody can gaslight me into thinking nothing happened. Mother isn’t here, and the monster is dead.
The Terra’s name shot around my head like a spray of bullets. Datu. Datu. Datu.
He cocks his head to the side, inhuman in its speed.
His expression is unreadable, but I can hear insects buzzing.
A branch snaps and I almost collapse in surprise as a centipede the size of a large dog skitters in, something folded atop its segmented body.
It came from the darkness, and its body still hasn’t stopped coming through.
How long is it? Jesus.
Datu smiles at the thing, and grabs the fabric. Petting the giant insect’s head, he sends it off its way. Datu brandishes the centipede’s delivery, and my defensiveness falters. It’s a blanket.
He has a small, cheeky smile on his face as he sits himself on the edge of the bed. Reaching out to grab an ankle, he pulls me to him like I weigh nothing. I can’t even claw away. I would have screeched if he didn’t wrap the blanket around me—swaddling me like a newborn.
He then takes my one exposed hand, placing his cheek upon my knuckles. There's contrition in his gaze, but also something tethered. Fury? Disgust?
My eyes catch sight of my ankle. The left one is wrapped in some sort of climber plant. I can’t even remember what happened to it. I guess he had been helping me. Now, I feel extra bad for snapping at him.
“I’m sorry, I’m a little irritable tonight.” My voice is rough. “Thank you for getting me out of there.” Thankful, the dour mood melts away as it settles deep in my gut. I feel absolutely drained now. No more adrenaline to keep me going.
My stomach growls—louder than ever.
Datu’s eyes widen a smidge. He hears my stomach muttering, begging for food, and I just want the earth to swallow me whole.
Straightening from his sprawl, he lays the side of his head over my belly. I am dying in humiliation as it rumbles more. With no permission, whatsoever, he stands and slips his fingers into my mouth, my teeth—an inquiry in his face.
What do you want to eat?
“My body needs food. Anything, really. From fruits to animals, but we need those cooked over fire to get rid of bacteria.” At this point, I’m just guessing what he’s trying to ask. So far, I haven’t been wrong yet.
He looks baffled by this. It takes me a bit of time to understand why, but eventually, it sinks in. He’s literally a plant man. He processes food through photosynthesis. Eating, masticating might be strange to him.
The ground underneath us vibrates before something begins to sprout beside the platform. It grows rapidly, twisting and stretching toward the sky. In less than a minute, it has become a small Ambrosia apple tree. I can’t hide my fascination as I gasp.
He strolls over and plucks a couple of apples and twirls them around his hands proudly. That’s oddly sweet. I’m ridiculously hungry so I don’t think twice when he hands one to me.
“Thank you, Datu.” I bite into one, and it’s crisp, sweet enough I could drift away.
I’m not sure how it happened, but next thing I know, we are sitting together watching the stars as I finish my second apple. It’s the most I’ve eaten since…since that burger. His serene presence is so infectious that I even forget to watch what I eat.
Mother always guarded what I ate like a hawk.
Measured and weighed them. Empress Jia and the weighing scale attached to her hip, the house staff used to joke.
Empress Jia and her malnourished kids. Every grain of rice to be consumed, but it had been hard not to.
I had always been hungry and asked for more…
I always flinch at the memory of her reaction.
Needless to say, I learned never to ask for food until she offered.
Growing up, water sustained me more than food did. I guess Datu and I have that in common.
The memory of Mother soured my mood, making the apples taste bitter in my mouth. I’m afraid of gaining weight, but I don’t want to waste food, too. The duality of my struggles. I can almost laugh.
“Finish it.”
I blink, check my ears, but there’s nothing that could make that noise. In a panic, I look around to see if someone had stumbled this way.
In his lackadaisical lounge, he throws his head back, and I hear actual laughter. It’s deep, and I feel it reverberate around my ribs like a ball in a coked-up pinball machine.
“Is that you?” I ask, shocked.
“One must be fed by me to hear me, yes.” His lips don't move, but I hear him. He repositions himself closer to me. One hand trails down my waist to my hip. “It is a commitment I have to make for you to cater to me.”
My brows knit together, baffled. “Makes work a lot easier.” I chuckle woodenly before feeling awful about what I just said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to brush you off like that.”
His smile crooks, and he reaches out to place his hand over mine. I’m amazed at the size difference. “There is no need to sugar-coat your purpose here.”
“If I were you, I would feel so used. But yeah, I would feel worse if they cloaked their intentions with lies.” I really need to learn how not to overshare with Datu. There’s this welcoming air about him that invites vulnerability.
“Can you tell me exactly what you will do to me?”
I look away, shame filling me. It’s horrible. Shame feels like the liquid that accumulates underneath a trash can that’s been left to rot for a while. But instead of being in the trash, it’s inside my mouth.
“I have a list…” I pat around but realize I don’t have my satchel.
I must have left it in the forest. My necessities are there, but I can’t go back there.
I shudder just thinking about it. “Basically, it stated why there’s a drought.
Plus, I need to collect…pollen? I’m not sure what that means.
I was actually led to believe I was going to an undiscovered island close to Tierra del Fuego.
I thought I was just studying plants…not people. ”
Datu rubs his chin, taking in what I just said. “The drought was caused by my imprisonment. However, my imprisonment was necessary to stop my dormancy. The males…” He trailed off.
Timidly, I pat his shoulder. “It’s okay, you can tell me. I will do my best to help you and the Terra.”
If Datu notices my awkwardness, he doesn’t make a mention of it.
“They have fallen ill to a disease the humans brought so they are dormant.”
Illness seems far-fetched. Maybe he means something more external…like excessive logging or whatever. Is that offensive to say? Holy barnacles, I’m a fish out of water.
“Can you tell me exactly what they did when they got here?”
The friendliness in his expression is gone. It’s scary how he can switch so quickly at the mention of humans.