THE THIRSTING FISH AND THE THIRSTFUL MONK

"It's necessary to have some fear of the unknown," Hundred's voice sounded as straight as a die.

"Necessary fear, huh…" Lirzod reflected on some past things and nodded. "You are right. Everyone should have it when they act like a spoiled nut around me."

Hundred pressed his lips hard, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Maybe you didn't, but who knows?" Lirzod exchanged a sort of a knowing look with him and chortled. "Maybe you did."

"The heck that's supposed to mean?" Hundred swatted at the air.

"It means what I meant," Lirzod rested his arm on the back of Hundred's neck as he tried to move away. "Wait, tell me more about that monk."

"Tell what? I know nothing valuable about her."

"Okay, tell me about the lady monks in general. Are there any more on this ship?"

"Lady monks..." he pondered for a moment before giving a glassy stare at Lirzod. "Why are you asking about them?"

"Yes," Lirzod nodded his head emphatically.

"'Yes,' what?"

"I just want to know, that's all."

"If that's the case, then I don't know much about female monks, but I can tell you about the monks in general."

"In general?" Lirzod shook his head. "I already know about them to an extent. What can you say that I don't know of?"

"I know of a famous story," he said, making a grand gesture with his hand by waving it up and around in a delightful fashion.

"Oh, that's both great and not great. Hopefully, it's not something I've heard before."

"Mm, have you heard of," Hundred's voice quickened a bit, "the thirsting fish and the thirstful monk?"

"No."

"Great," Hundred began to clear his throat a bit like an artist preparing for some major event.

"Just make sure that the story ends just as we reach your room," Lirzod's words killed some of his enthusiasm and thinned down his chest.

A bead of sweat surfaced on Hundred's cheek. (He still didn't seem to have forgotten about the damn almonds. What should I do? I already ate them all.) He let out an awkward smile. "Yeah."

"C'mon, start the story."

"I'll try to," Hundred's mouth was put to work, but his mind drifted on and on, gathering different memories as they both began to walk together. "Long ago, there was a monk who practiced his arts a few hundred feet deep underwaters for years. One day, when he was in rumination, a small but special fish came to him and was intrigued by the ring on his little finger.

"Seeing the monk's situation, it tried to pull the ring out of his finger, but no matter how much effort the fish put in, it didn't succeed. However, that little fish didn't want to give up. After a variety of struggles, it began to bite the monk's finger, trying to cut it at its base.

"Slowly, it ate the monk's flesh bit by bit, making sure it didn't alert him. It kept on eating and eating, so much it could feel its stomach was close to being full. That's when the fish realized that the monk's flesh was growing back at the same rate as it could eat. The fish was quite surprised. It realized that the monk was not an ordinary being. It turned back and swam away into the distance. After having digested the food in its stomach, it came back almost an hour later. The monk was still in rumination."

The fish was smart enough to realize that it can't use its mundane methods to obtain the ring. So it thought that asking the monk itself would be a better idea. It swam up to his face and shook its tail fins rapidly, forming waves that swashed and hit the monk's face.

The diamond-faced monk opened his eyes at a slow pace and saw a tiny and cute fish flapping some of its fins. Its large eyes suggested that it was a nocturnal fish.

The fish's voice transmitted through the waves and reached his ears, which apprehended with ease. "I like your glowing thing. Give it to me."

"My glowing thing?" the monk was pleasantly surprised as he replied to the fish in a similar fashion. The phrase proved to be a minute hurdle for the monk to overcome, but it didn't take him long to understand that the fish was talking about the only glowing thing he had, which was the ring. "What will you do with it?"

"I will do whatever I want. Would you give it to me or not?" Having already wasted so much time for the ring, the fish no longer had the patience for to-and-fro of the mouths.

The monk sort of smiled. "I can, but can you at least give me a proper reason first?"

"I want to wear it, of course."

The monk slightly shook his head. "I'm afraid you can't wear it."

"Why can't I? You sure are wearing it."

"Because I have fingers, which you're lacking."

The fish showed its fins as if suggesting that the ring would fit its fins.

Fingers loosely clasped in his lap, he didn't change his posture at all, implying he was as calm as before. "This monk wants to give you this ring, but if you wear the ring like that, you won't be able to swim."

"No." The fish, however, didn't listen and still wanted to try. "I can take care of myself." (So, it's called a ring, and he's called a monk, huh.)

"I like your doggedness, but doggedness without diligence will only lead to doom."

"Ugh, will you give it to me or not?" the fish began to swim to the left and right without fixedly staying at a spot. "If you don't give me that, I will bring all my friends, and we will eat you."

The monk let out an unforced laugh, making sure not a drop of water slipped down his throat. "I am a dead coral to you, huh. Fine. I will give it to you, but I don't want you to see me take this ring out."

"I am not going to make distance if that's what you are thinking," Being a smarty, the fish moved a bit closer to the monk. "You can't escape."

"No, I don't want you to go anywhere," the monk's gaze was weightless. "I just want you to close your eyes."

"Close my eyes?"

"Yes." The monk said and closed his eyes.

Upon seeing him, the fish tried closing its eyes but then realized that it had no eyelids. "You, who do you think you're fooling!"

The monk seemed to be enjoying the fish's skill in repartee. He opened his eyes and innocently asked, "What's wrong, little one?"

"I can't close my eyes like you!" the fish impatiently said, flapping its fins viciously. "Give me a task that's doable and easy."

"Your thirst for the ring sure is high." After pondering for a little while, the monk nodded. "Alright, you can have it if you can finish two simple tasks."

"State them, and I will fish my way through them both!"

"Very well." He smiled a little before continuing, "Firstly, you must quench my thirst for water."

"What? That's it?"

"Yes."

"Simple. And the second one is?"

"Secondly," he pointed his finger toward a coral that was about ten meters away, "you must manage to swim there in the shortest distance while wearing the ring. Otherwise, you should forget about the ring."

"Agreed." The fish was quick to respond. "The first one is easy. Just drink as much water around you as you want. Now, let's start the second task," the fish said, and on the inside, it was laughing out loud. (Fool, you think I can't swim straight? I may be young, but I'm the great hedgefish!)

The monk smiled for a few seconds before speaking, "Come and rest on my lap. I will put the ring on your fin."

The fish vigilantly got closer and settled on his lap.

The monk took the ring out was about to adorn it on the fish's fin, but the fish, which was puzzled a bit, couldn't help but ask. "Wait, how will you know if I'm going in the shortest route or not?"

The monk smiled and said, "That's not important."

The fish had no idea why the monk said that, but after he adorned the ring on one of its fins, the fish was quite excited from seeing the ring up close.

"Should I start?" the fish excitedly asked, ready to whip its tail at notice.

"Whenever you are ready," the monk mollifyingly stated.

"Alright, here I go." It tried to swim ahead with a flap of its other fin and one swaying of its tail, but the moment it lifted its body off the monk's lap and propelled itself ahead, it instantly dove down diagonally unable to control itself. Even though it flapped its other fin and swayed its tail, it totally failed in controlling its course, stopping only after crashing to the bottom beside the monk. It desperately endeavored to swim away from that position but couldn't even do that. No matter how many times it struggled, it just wasn't working.

It was at that moment, the fish realized the reason why the monk had said 'that's not important,' because the fish couldn't go very far anyway while wearing the ring, so it didn't matter. Not only was the fish unable to use one of its fins to its will, but the ring was also heavier than it thought. The fish believed that the monk knew that this would happen, and he still chose to do it, which enraged it for being mocked in such a manner.

Angry at the monk, it shook the ring off its fin and swallowed the ring. "Now, the ring is mine forever." Saying that the fish swam away from the monk in haste. "And have fun sitting on our poop."

The monk didn't move an inch and still assumed a relaxed posture. He spoke aloud to the swimming away fish, "You have seven days and nights to bring back the ring and beg for mercy."

The fish heard his words but didn't turn back. (Hmph, whatever. As if you can ever catch me!)

The monk just watched the fish disappear out of his view.

Seconds added up into minutes, which added up into hours and then into days.

Through rumination, the monk calmly waited for seven days and nights, but the fish did not return to him.

The very next morning, the monk opened his eyes, and from having not taken a drop of water for all the time he was meditating, he felt quite thirsty at the moment. He opened his mouth and began to drink.

All the water around him got sucked into his mouth. And the void created as a result pulled in more water to him. He swallowed all the water that came to him and the creatures that came along with it. In seven hours, he emptied the entire ocean, including all the creatures, not leaving the creatures hiding in the mud or the cracks of the ground before sucking out all the wetness from the ground itself, and by the end of it, all but a single creature was left at his feet, lying on the barren ground, jumping on and on, clinging to its life. It was the fish that stole the ring.

"O, great monk! Without knowing your strength, I offended you. I'm terribly sorry. Please, show mercy upon me," the fish begged for its life. It even spat out the ring. "Take your ring, but help me, please."

The monk calmly stared down at the fish and said, "The shortest distance between you and me is one straight line. The shortest distance between life and death is one bad step. You failed to come back to me in time, and yet you ask for mercy."

"Please, I admit my mistakes. Please show mercy," the fish begged like it never did before in its life.

Seeing its pitiful situation, the monk gently blew air through his nose. "Alright, for your persistence, at least, I will give you a chance. You are a fish that can breathe air, correct?"

"Yes, if there is mud I can estivate for months, but now even the ground is totally dried up," Its voice sounded more desperate than ever. "In these conditions, I can't last for long without water. Please save me."

"You don't have to last for long. Just for seven days and nights, that's all."

The monk's words stunned the fish, creating strange electric surges in its heart. The fish fell to the ground and did not move afterward, for it went to meet its maker.

The monk simply wore the ring, grabbed the dead fish with one arm, and then spat the ocean out, filling the dried out region again with the water and all the creatures that he previously swallowed. The waters seemed purer, and the sea creatures seemed livelier than ever before.

The fishes roamed happily like they never left the ocean.

The monk simply continued his rumination. It seemed as if nothing much happened, except for the death of a single fish.

Things moved on.

"What? The monk really killed the fish?" Lirzod was surprised.

"Yeah," he reluctantly nodded, "he sort of did."

"But, that's so unlike monks, isn't it? Harming another being?"

"Not at all. Many monks eat meat as long as the animal was not killed on their behalf. As for harming others, the monks say that it's impossible to not harm others in all of the physical, mental, and spiritual ways. As long as one is alive, his life is bound to affect others in both positive and negative ways. Causing the least harm is the way most monks choose, well, at least as far as I know about them."

"Least harm, you say?" Lirzod snorted. "Since when killing is considered as doing the least harm?"

"Don't just see that the monk killed the fish. Also, see the way how he killed it."

"Yeah, how? By giving it a freaking mind-stroke, and probably heart stroke as a bonus."

"Y-Yes, but it was a fast and painless way to go, don't you think? That fish most likely did not suffer."

"That's," Lirzod was startled. "But still, killing is…"

"Personally, I think that the monk never killed the fish. He was willing to forgive the unforgivable fish, but before that, the fish killed itself."

Lirzod stayed silent, feeling a slight heaviness in the stomach. A few seconds of silence passed in his mind, and only the sound of their footsteps could be heard in the street.

"What did you understand from it?"

"Me?" Lirzod raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah, you. Who else is here?"

"Well," Lirzod pondered for a moment as he pursed his lips, "the story surely reminded my thirst for nuts."

Hundred's skin tingled, his shoulders jerked up and down, and he almost stopped mid-stride. "H-How are the two even related?" His chin ducked as if to hide his eyes.

"Uh-ah, they are very much related," Lirzod turned his head and looked at Hundred, his eyes effulging austere light. "Someone had taken my nuts away from me. If they aren't in his room like he said," his hand somewhat tightened the grip on Hundred, "then I guess I will have to follow the story and bring him a fast and painless way to give up the ghost."

"U-Uh, haha," Hundred barked out a requisite smile. "You are not a monk, and I'm not a fish."

"But, the thirst is relatable, right?" Lirzod didn't back down.

Hundred trembled a bit, and his heartbeat sped up. "What are you saying? I don't even eat almonds on a daily basis. You can't relate anyone to anything." Hiding his face from Lirzod, Hundred was on the verge of crying. (Why did I pick this story of all? Curse my carelessness!)

"I didn't mean to add insult to the injury," Lirzod quickly replied. "I ended up bringing out what I was feeling inside."

Hundred wasn't expecting such a response, but it helped him breathe three short sighs of relief, at least outwardly. (What the heck is he talking all of a sudden? Wait, did my words get to him?) He turned his head to the forward again. "It's alright. You were just trusting your instincts."

At that time, they reached a desolate junction.

"It's great that you can understand," as Lirzod was saying, something hit his head from behind, making him frown. "What the— " his hand automatically touched the spot, and when he turned back, he saw a small stone—not even half-inch thick—fall to the ground, coming to a halt in a few bounces. It was uniquely defined in shape to an unnatural degree. He looked at his hand and saw that there was a tiny amount of blood. He looked around but found nobody.

Another stone came flying from the side and was about to hit his temple, but his ears caught the noise, and he managed to shift his head a little.

BAM~!

A sharp sound was heard, and Lirzod was forced to cover that region, a little to the right of his temple. Blood began to come out from there as well. "What the hell?" he turned to his right, but there was no one else on the street. "Ouch, it hurts." He looked at Hundred, who touched his throat and had a dazed look. "Did you see someone?"

"This is bad." Hundred grabbed Lirzod firmly, and his breath paused for the nonce. "We're surrounded by the Stone Spitters."