Jack and the Temple

[Orionbob]

Fandom: Samurai Jack.

Picture of Jack here, for those interested.

Wordcount: about 3,000

Notes: First sneezefic I've ever finished! I was too excited to post it to ask on the forums for a beta, so feel free to tell me what you think could have been done better.

---

Jack helped the monk heave one of the heavy temple doors open, hanging back a moment as the old man stepped through. The walk up the mountain had been hard, slow, but the view almost made the effort worthwhile. Up close the fog had made safe travel through the city below all but impossible, damp and oppressive and frankly a little unnerving, but at a distance it was something else altogether. It lay thick over the entire valley, wisped up around the surrounding mountains, gentled the bright pinks and oranges of sunrise and gave the whole landscape a look of solitude, of silence. He took a slow breath, for a moment making the effort to think of nothing else. Aku had closed his fist tight around this land, around the world itself, but he hadn't destroyed it. This was what Jack had travelled so long trying to save.

He took a fortifying breath and one more look around, tucking the image away with all the other places and people, memories he stored carefully and took out when he needed reasons to keep going, and then headed into the dark.

The temple was actually fairly cheerful, as these things went. Not so dark as it had seemed before his eyes had adjusted, thanks to the torches set every few feet along the walls of a large entrance hall. Their fire was oddly steady, their smoke hanging low throughout the room and drifting around the kneeling figures that filled it. The walls themselves were dry yellow stone, carved and painted with pictures of what looked to be the temple's history. There was no time to look closely, though, for Jack's instructions had been definite: audience with the abbot had to be earned. Before taking the first step past the entrance hall, one had to demonstrate dedication and respect, both for the temple itself and for the knowledge that could be found within it. Knowledge that, Jack had been told, might include directions to the time portal his quest so dearly needed.

The other supplicants knelt in straight, neat lines, three full rows that crossed the width of the chamber. Part of Jack wanted to brush his fingers along the wall's pictures, learn who these people were and how this place had come to be. Such an action would likely ruin this stage of his quest before it had even begun, though, so the urge wasn't too difficult to resist. Instead he walked at a measured, stately pace, certain the monk sitting at the head of the room hadn't looked up, but also certain said monk was aware of Jack's every step.

Jack started a new row on the righthand wall, kneeling about two feet behind a fellow supplicant and folding his hands. The smoke was thicker here, closer to the ground as he was. It didn't smell of any fuel torches were typically fed with, but instead of something like incense, heavy and rich with spice. It was an unusual scent to begin with, but even more so once his eyes were closed, no sights or sounds to clutter the mind and distract from it. Perhaps it was meant to hone thought, a focal point for untrained minds to latch onto. Because Jack knew a lot of these were untrained; clothes rustled as one twitched restlessly, as another tried to quietly return life to his sleeping feet. Jack knew the sounds without opening his eyes because he'd made plenty of them himself in those earliest days, learning those earliest lessons. Days when his quest was new enough that he'd dreamed often of his father snatched up by a great clawed hand, still woke certain the room was on fire. By the time he'd mastered the art of sitting in silent thought, of kneeling for hours with barely an ache, the dreams had started to quiet and still he'd been younger than most of these men have even dreamed of remembering.

Which wasn't meant as a boast. It was just meant to say, some of these men - most of them - might need the conscious anchor that a strong scent would bring if they were going to meditate their way into this temple. He, on the other hand, needed no such assistance. He pressed his hands more firmly together, tightened his jaw, and finally gave in to the urge to wiggle his nose. It was harmless, it didn't mean the scent was getting to him. It wouldn't hurt anything. It was just to relieve the itch. Much more silent than the fidgeting of those kneeling in front of him.

Ordinarily, Jack would have blended with this particular crowd seamlessly, blended and bested them, closing his eyes and thinking of nothing but the knowledge behind that doorway. Of the years it had likely taken to gather such knowledge, of the bravery and strength of those who'd made the oath to gather it. Reverence for such things was easy, for one noble quest recognized another. He learned this before puberty, he'd learned this when he was a child, focusing past the noise and chaos of the world to find the peace within. He could do this in his sleep (and, on occasion, had). But that scent.

Suddenly he inhaled, a sharp gust of air through his nose that seemed shockingly loud, attuned to the silence as he was. Surely the monk guarding the doorway had heard that, surely. Jack strained his hearing, feeling his heart start to beat faster, his alarm honing his senses even further. There was no way to know with any certainty whether the monk was watching him, maybe even glaring with disapproval; Jack didn't dare open his eyes. He wiggled his nose again, and then once more, but whatever relief that brought was brief, increasingly useless.

He inhaled again, a slower, shaky breath that was thankfully a little more quiet than the first. That was the only thing to be thankful for, because whatever this smoke was, it worked quickly. He didn't understand why no one else seemed to be having this problem. As his nostrils started to flare, Jack admitted at last to himself that he might be about to sneeze. Not a quiet, mouse-like squeak either - such delicate sneezing had never been his lot, as much as he now wished for it instead of his own usual near-shout. It simply couldn't be permitted - his hope to find the portal, ruined so soon by... by this? This branch of his quest ended not by some desperate battle or noble sacrifice but by smoke? By his own body?

Never.

With new determination he began again. It wasn't a battle that would ever be sung of in any hall of warriors, no tale of bravery and skill he could tell his friend the Scotsman over a campfire, but it was important. Essential. Instead of thinking quietly of the knowledge he so hoped to seek, or on the generations of sacrifice with which this temple had acquired it, he knelt and thought of the smoke. The scent, tickling its way ever deeper into his nostrils, winding its way around the sensitive hairs there. His breaths got ever more shaky, though he worked to keep them silent. They came faster, more hurried, though he worked to keep them slow. Finally he unclasped his hands and cupped one over his mouth and nose. Had to take the smaller risk of the disrespectful posture over the larger risk of drawing attention to himself with his rough, ever more desperate breathing. It was as if every breath drew in more smoke, which was in fact the case, and he could react to none of it. Or, he could allow himself to react to none of it, though that was a fact his body seemed to be doing its best to disprove.

"Hu-hu-huh! Huh! Ha-ah!" It was no use. No use. He moved his hand down to cover only his mouth, lifting the other hand to fit a finger under his still-flaring nostrils. It didn't stop the helpless, hitching breaths, but it did perhaps buy him some time. Time to do what? The only strategy he could think of, save fleeing the entrance hall and forfeiting this stage of his quest altogether, was to tighten his jaw, clench his teeth. It did silence the noises, but it also meant even more smoke making its way into his nose rather than his mouth, and the small part of Jack not utterly devoted to fighting this battle realized that it was now only a matter of time.

He was trying so hard not to sneeze that the first noise that slipped out wasn't one. It was a high, desperate moan, almost keening, and the first sneeze followed directly on the heels of it. That moan had been the end, almost certainly, if he didn't remove himself from the temple surely there would be monks along to do it in a moment, but he'd been fighting too hard to give up now and so the first sneeze came out only halfway, sounding caught behind something. "Nnnnnnn-Eh-gcht! Ahght! Ah-hahcght!" He was flung forward with the force of that last, not kneeling now but half-sprawled over the floor, feet still folded under him, forearm braced against the stone and one hand still cupped uselessly over his mouth. In the pause after those first few, half-caught noises, he might have heard footsteps, the clacking of wooden shoes against the floor growing ever louder, but all the thought he could muster went to the battle he refused to admit was lost. "Ha-ah-haexxt! Heh-ihght--!" His back hunched as he jerked even further forward, the stifled force of them needing to go somewhere, bringing his face even closer toward the floor where the thickest level of smoke lurked. Each new sneeze brought with it a gasp, and with each gasp came more smoke, more of that thick, rich spice winding ever higher into his senses.

"Eh-AH-gxxic! Ah-HAH-EGIK--! Ah-!" That last gasp came as he was lifted from the floor, oddly gentle hands under his arms, and Jack tried desperately to restrain himself to gasps because these monks, who after all had only wanted quiet, did not deserve to be spat in the face, however accidentally.

Jack's eyelids slid down with each gasp, had squeezed shut with each sneeze and watered with the force of them, so he had to trust that the arm around his waist was leading him toward the outer door, rather than toward some terrible punishment reserved only for the worst insults to the temple and its people. "Ah-ah-! Ahehsh-gxt! Ah-hiishgxt!" Jack rocked forward and his usually sure feet stumbled, but a hand on his shoulder pulled him up and led him on.

The smell of the smoke wasn't as strong now, but it was taking longer to get to the outer doors than he would have expected. There was no spare thought to turn toward the matter. He'd have to keep trusting the monks of this place. At least they had a good reputation, and probably weren't about to try and feed him to some sort of monster. "Hii-ih... ihhhh... " He couldn't hold it in, not all of it, he'd have to let the clumsy gasping noises go if he was to have any hope of keeping the rest of it quiet. " ihAHHchgxt! Ih... ih-hih... hih-gxt!" Jack stumbled again, fell against the wall and pressed a hand against it as he continued, trying to stay upright. "Ghgk! Gh-aaaah-hegk! ...ah... haht-aaahhhh... " He tried to pant, gasped, got caught in a breath that kept hitching because he refused to let it go anywhere.

"I..." He had to try to explain, apologize for not leaving sooner. "I a-ahhhh... a-am ah! am soooahhhGHHXT! S- Ah-AH-AGHT! Sorry! Deeply, I.. ah-ah-ah-I... hah-ahhh, I, I-ah!-I..."

"Don't be," said a calm, feminine voice. Was this the monk who'd stepped away a moment ago, when he'd fallen against the wall? It certainly wasn't the one guarding the doorway to the inner temple, who'd been an old man and probably would have had an old man's voice. No matter. All that mattered right now was speaking, and he could tell he'd need to turn all his attention to the task.

"I-ahhhh, I'll, I'll le- leave as... ahhhsssss... hnnnnn..." In this latest, desperate attempt to halt his sneezes Jack found himself starting to hum, the hum slipping into another, briefer moan, which trailed into more hitched panting. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

"Come, sit." One hand on his chest this time, one on his back. Just a few steps, luckily, before the hands carefully pushed him down onto what felt like a bench. Jack tried to dab at his eyes with the edge of a sleeve, with only a little success. All he could make out was a broad form, a blur of brown wrapped in a smudge of beige robes. He started blinking a little more frequently, trying to clear the water from his eyes.

"I-I ahhh... a-apologHNgxt!"

"Enough of that," she said, kindly. "Sweet as it is. If I wait for you to finish I'm afraid we'll never get to the part where you commune with our relic and receive your knowledge."

Jack sat up straighter, eyes wide. "Excuse m-hehAHGLK!" He straightened, again, from where the barely-stifled sneeze had thrown him forward, lowering the fingers that had pinched the tip of his nose just in time.

"You're excused." The tone was amused, knowing very well that's not what he'd meant. "You tried so very hard to stay quiet, to keep from disturbing the others. If that doesn't show enough respect and dedication to get in here, I don't know what does. As the founder of this temple I have the right to make judgment calls in this matter, and I have." There was a pause, and Jack got the distinct feeling he was being assessed. Still blinking rapidly, slowly bringing world into focus through blurry, watery eyes, Jack tried to look respectable.

"Dry your eyes," she continued. "Collect yourself. When you're ready, go through those doors right in front of you. There'll be more of that smoke, but you don't have to hurt yourself this time. Just let everything go. There's no one else for you to worry about there. The knowledge you seek will come, when it's time."

Another of those thoughtful pauses. "It's a pleasure, you know. Meeting the famous Samurai Jack. You're much more polite than I thought you'd be." And with that she left, shoes clacking more and more faintly against the stone floor before Jack's eyes had cleared enough to know what she looked like. Instead of wondering, he stared at the door in front of him and waited to get his breath back. It didn't take long.

The room was small, well lit. He swung the door closed behind him, stepping toward the column in the center of the room. There was something in it, something built within its center that had started glowing as soon as he shut the door. The smoke was there too, as promised. It swirled around the column, low and thick, and he dropped to his knees amidst it. His nose twitched, and right away he started in with those short, sharp gasps. No need to worry, now. He'd been told so, and so he didn't. He let it come.

"Ah--! Icht! Icht! Ah, ah, ah-haAIIISHOOO!" If his stifled sneezes were a force to be reckoned with, this was something else again. That had always been the way, when anything had gotten to Jack strongly enough to start him sneezing. If he'd let himself go in the entrance hall, what little concentration the other supplicants had still had would have been shot to pieces. "Ha-eshGXT!" Stifling himself was a difficult habit to break, and Jack shook his head, trying to shake the habit off before the next tickle took hold. "eh-SHOOO! ASHOOOO! Eh... Ehhh... Eh-atSHOO-ATSHOOO-AH-EISSHHHHIIIII!" It was as if the single stifled sneeze had started something, his entire body saying no, not again. He'd been thrown forward with that last, knees folded under him, once more half-splayed on the floor with his forearms braced under him. With the next set of sneezes his head rocked forward and he watched the spray spatter against the stone floor, his chest heaving. "EIIISHHHAHTSHOOO, EH-SHA, eh-ASHOOOOO! AHSHOOOIIIEEEEAHHSHAW, AHTSHOOO, choo, shooo, ah, aht-shooo..." The last few were quiet, almost tired-sounding, but within the next few seconds his body had recovered. The smoke, that spice, wound again around his senses and took hold. He was dizzy, not sure which way was up, couldn't think and wasn't trying to.

"AHHHAHHHHESH! ESH! EHHH-HESHAH! HA-ESHAWAIIEEEESHAOOOOOOOO! AIIIESH! AIIIIIESHOOO! AIIISHOOOOOOOO!"

He panted for air, the sound high and fast, desperate, and it was a moment before he realized he'd been hearing a highpitched wooshing noise that wasn't coming from him. In a moment his breathing started to slow, his thoughts crept back, awareness of his surroundings returned. There was a door open on the other side of the room that he was fairly certain hadn't existed when he'd entered. It looked out onto trees, onto bright morning light. Onto a scroll, sitting between the doorway and the grass. Jack stumbled to his feet, regaining his balance by trial-and-error as he crossed the small room. The wooshing he'd heard had probably been the rest of the smoke, being sucked out the new doorway. Some still clung to its edges, and as Jack bent to pick up the scroll it teased a sudden, sharp sneeze out of him.

The would outside the mountain was just as beautiful in the morning as it had been at sunrise. He felt... He felt good, actually. Hopeful. Tired, but in a pleasant way. He felt cleansed.

Jack stepped out, tucked the map safely next to the handle of his sword, and rubbed carefully at the bottom of his nose. It was time to go on, and if all went well, to meet the next step of his quest. And if all didn't go well... Well, maybe there'd be time to visit here again. He had a feeling the back door would be open.

[kestrel]

Oh. My. God. You have no idea how many of my nostalgia buttons you just pushed! I adored Samurai Jack, and this is precisely the episode I always wanted to see. Pretty much everything I love in a fic is here, and I love your writing style. You got the character down perfectly, and... I can't think of any further praise. I need to go and have a Jack marathon. Thankyou for a lovely fic!

[Orionbob]

That is far more than I hoped for when I posted. I was also worried no one would know it was Samurai Jack because I didn't include that in the title, and then couldn't find a way to edit it! XD But yeah, I've been rewatching the show lately myself, even bought the comic. (IDW Publishing is going to make about 10 Samurai Jack comics, or so says tumblr and google.) And man, with all the fanservice that show gave us (I have never seen a cartoon character who looked better with his hair down) I kind of wanted to see an episode like this myself. I can't tell you how excited I am to hear that my attempt at it worked. Excuse me while I go flail.

[a_nonny_mouse]

OH MY GAWD. I don't even know this fandom and the story still... ah where's that *spontaneously combusts* smiley when you need it... yeah anyway. This is gorgeous, and I encourage you to write all the things. :3

[Orionbob]

*flails* I was trying not to put too much of the show's backstory in for people who weren't familiar with the show - I was trying for just enough that people knew what was going on, and I'm glad that worked! Thank you so much for the encouragement. <3 The next time I end up with a plotted-out fantasy like this, I'll definitely try for a story about it. I've tried to write out other sneeze fantasies before and they just never got finished. I think for me the key is keeping it short-ish and the plot simple, but most importantly knowing how I want it to end. But Jack is so sweet and kind, and he tries so hard, I just had to try to write this one! I'm thrilled you like it so much. Thank you!