Saiyuki does not belong to the author of this fic.

---

Through the Looking Glass by Mitsima
Part 10 - Just Admit It

When Kenren finished dressing, he stumbled into the study where Tenpou was- no surprise here-reading.

“Oi, Tenpou.” he said to catch the marshal’s attention, but the other man was too deeply engrossed in the tattered hardback to look up. “Tenpou!”

Hakkai jumped; snapped the book shut. “Oh. It’s you.”

Kenren twisted his face in mock disgust. “Who else would it be?”

“Well...”

“Should I even bother asking?”

“You wouldn’t get a very interesting answer.” Hakkai admitted honestly before casting his eyes down towards the cover. In the weak light of the candle, the shiny leather cast a pale sheen of red over his skin. “You’re the only person I sleep with around here.”

“Damn straight.” All the windows were closed, he had noticed; which was odd since Tenpou usually liked to keep them open.

The air was strange tonight, with a deathly stillness that set it apart from other nights. He lit a cigarette. Tenpou was fiddling around with his books again and Kenren was starting to get the impression that the marshal had forgotten all about his previous commands. Still, he said nothing because as careless as Tenpou could be when it came to bookkeeping and hygiene, he was NEVER one to forget anything that had the slightest bit to do with war. Shout out a name and page number, and he’d even quote from the damn book.

And so he smoked, closing his eyes and pretending not to look like he didn’t have the slightest idea of what was happening. That’s how politics went, didn’t it? Hence the importance of having somebody to trust completely.

That said, Kenren wasn’t actually sure where to place Tenpou in the great scheme of things.

A click of a loading gun pierced the silence in a way that was harsh and neat, like the tick of a clock, only it happened once. So Tenpou hadn’t forgotten his orders after all.

Of course Kenren trusted him. After all, there was that incident several days ago. If he couldn’t trust him now...but then again there was always something he felt that simply included trust. Couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. Respect maybe. Most likely. Of course. On the other hand, that sounded too buddy buddy...as if they didn’t sleep together...ravaged each other at the most random times, at the most random locations.

Going along those likes, Kenren could just say he was impressed...

Tenpou moved into the shadows of another bookshelf, his figure melting into the darkness where the candlelight couldn’t reach. Paper was torn.

It was never too difficult to be impressed with Tenpou, who had the most uncanny way of getting things done and then smoked it off as if it were “something he just wanted to try out.” As if he had stashes and stashes of plans waiting to be executed, daydreamed over millennia but never given the opportunity to be carried out on the field. Tenpou’s mind was always running like that...perhaps even when he’s being fucked senseless, a part of him is still with his maps and diagrams. Most likely, despite the fact that Kenren would have preferred to doubt it.

That said, Tenpou still didn’t seem to fit anywhere with him.

Sure, it was a comfort knowing that there was one brain in this whole heaven that didn’t get dusty and rusty; that always had a backup plan to the backup plan’s contingency plan. Because with Tenpou, you could breathe easy knowing that somebody was in control of the situation...except when it came to sex...but really, anything in that area is completely out of the marshal’s control, Kenren added smugly. But still...

Tenpou emerged from the shadows, gun in hand and hair tied loosely back. He smiled weakly then set himself on top of his desk, the weapon on his lap.

“Well?” Hakkai said.

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to question my orders? You always seem rather disposed to doing such things.”

“Eh.” Kenren shrugged, looking at the floor. “I figured it wasn’t worth the effort this time.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m an ass, that’s why.”

“Is that it?”

“That and the fact that in section 6 of the Military Manual, page 37, paragraph eight,” Kenren recited in mocking rote. “It says that whenever the army is in a code blue situation, no superior’s orders are to be questioned lest something really shitty happen to the stupid ass subordinate.”

Laughter bubbled up from Tenpou as he politely covered his mouth. “Oh my. And what ‘shitty’ punishment do you think I might have prepared for that certain ‘stupid ass’ subordinate of mine?”

You would finally say that you want to be on top, Kenren voiced internally, but wouldn’t even dare speak it out loud for fear that Tenpou might actually want to do *just that.* He’s capable of it. Entirely capable of it.

“I dunno. Extra desk work?”

Hakkai shook his head. “In any case, Taishou, shouldn’t that rule apply all the time and not just on a code blue signal? Or...” he continued with added mischief. “Wouldn’t it also be a punishable infraction should a certain subordinate talk back rudely to a certain superior whilst at the same time questioning his judgment AND adding an inappropriate sexual jibe?” Kenren grew red.

“I DIDN’T!”

“Even Shien caught it. Perhaps if I come out of this upset, he’ll report you.”

Playing with jealousy again. Well it was working. And fucking annoying him to the ends of the earth because he didn’t know why. The jealousy he could admit, but the reason for it he couldn’t rationalize.

Tenpou could fuck anybody he wanted to fuck. He had the liberty to do it. Just as Kenren did. God knows there were many nights and many women.

There was no disputing it. There’s nothing there. Absolutely not. He was doing a poor job of convincing himself. Respect. Total respect. Comrades in arms...who just happened to sleep with each other. But guys do that sometimes. It was just “something they wanted to try out.” And sure, it was fun, still is, but that’s just it. Fun. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Sex. All the same.

To bad his mind was in a position to argue.

Point: But Tenpou hasn’t been fucking anybody else. You like that idea, don’t you?

Counterpoint: ...

Point: And you haven’t been fucking any woman ever since you started fucking *him* isn’t that right?

Counterpoint: ...

Point: There’s a word for that, you know.

“Taishou.” Tenpou’s eyes suddenly seemed to take on an apologetic look. “Consider this your punishment.”

“What!?”

But before he could even look up to meet Tenpou’s eyes, something sharp met his arm and he winced in pain. Then from that point, everything started to go numb, spreading from his arm and down into his legs until he collapsed into Tenpou’s embrace.

“This is for your own sake, Taishou, because I know you value the lives of your men. So this time, again, the responsibility is out of your hands and back into mine. I’m not even asking you to trust me, just allow me to free your conscience this time around.”

And the obvious answer: “Fuck you.”

“I need you to cooperate with me.” Hakkai continued, putting the fired tranquilizer gun back on the desk and easing the general onto the floor. “Taishou, you are in no position for dishonesty. And so I ask for a single answer to a single question and then I can leave you in peace to insult me at will whenever you awake, if that is what you find pleasure in doing.” he paused. “In any case, that is just a disclaimer because I mixed truth syrum into the dart. You will be truthful whether you want to be or not.”

“Manipulative bastard.” His head was suddenly growing fuzzy, that sense of foreboding churning his gut making him wish that the unconsciousness would come just a bit faster.

Hakkai ruffled his hair. “That’s me, but don’t you worry. It’s a simple yes or no question.”

Come on. Knock me out already. Sleep. Sleep. Go to sleep. I’m not listeniiiinnnngggg...

“Are you in love with me?”

Shit.

****

There was a knock on the door, a bit lazy this time so it couldn’t be Goujun.

“Come in!” Hakkai called, getting up from his desk to meet the visitor yet making no move to hide the unconscious general at his feet.

Through the entranceway walked a man with wild, orange hair. One eye visible while the other was covered with a patch that was insufficient in hiding the angry scar that ran across it. “Zenon.” Hakkai greeted with a nod.

“Mn.” the man looked over to Kenren, dead asleep. “Is this how you deal with all of them?”

A smile, but he refused to acknowledge the question. “I want all units, except for the regiment that had just returned, to evacuate the building. Discretion is necessary.”

“And you?”

“I’ll stay for the time being. Play it by ear.”

Zenon looked up from the floor towards the marshal. The other man’s mind was wandering, a small smile playing on his lips. He could ask, but they were never on such familiar grounds. How Shien managed to do it eluded him completely. So instead of frivolous words, he retreated to going about doing what he knew.

The sound of metal upon wood thundered throughout the quiet room as Zenon dropped a hefty sword onto the desk.

A slender brow lifted. “But that would require...”

“You’re playing it by ear, remember?” Zenon retorted, fishing out a cigarette from his pocket.

“Ah.”

“And you might want this too.” he held out a gun.

“No need, I already have one.” Hakkai pointed to the silver tranquilizer over on the bookshelf.

Zenon huffed before replacing Hakkai’s gun with his own pistol- the machine gun, of course, remained hanging at his side. “That one’s for sissies. This one,” he said of Hakkai’s newly acquired weapon. “Is the real thing.”

“For playing it by ear, am I correct?”

A terse nod, then, “And him?” Zenon pointed to the taishou.

“Bring him with you on your way out. Careful, he’s a bit heavy.”

He could have said something, but...again...they were never on familiar grounds. The marshal would throttle him for it. “What do I tell Goujun?”

“Say that the sandman knocked him out.”

Zennon grinned then. The marshal didn’t seem as bad a guy as people made him out to be. Then again, the Tenpou Gensui was a man of many faces “Yes, sir.” And then he was gone, Kenren Taishou in tow.

Left alone in the room, Hakkai took time to examine his weapons. Looked inside the gun. Fully loaded. He stuck it in his belt then went to the the sword: slick and newly sharpened. It would do nicely.

Thirty demons? A secret, feral leer graced his face just then. He licked his lips.

Nothing to one who has slain a thousand.

*****

Gojyo sneezed. “Damn cold.” he muttered before drowning a cup of weak wine. It did little to warm him. But hell, it was something, at least. Perched on the only unbroken chair in the now roofless tavern, he looked into the fire Hakkai...or rather...Tenpou...had told him to make.

“Those youkai are drawn to heat like metal to a magnet.” the man had said. “Just like you, ne? Just wait here while I go get Sanzo. He’s been gone for an awful long time.” And he left. But Gojyo followed, eavesdropped and then ran back.

“I’m hungry.” a voice said from behind him on the floor.

“Shut up, saru. You just ate the last of our reserves. If you want more, scrounge around the village. I’m sure there’s some edible trash around here. Might have to fight the dogs for it.”

Goku kicked himself up. “What kinda animal do you think I am??”

“What a memory you’ve got, saru.”

“Why you-”

The sound of a creaking door cut him off as Hakkai walked through, smiling. “Don’t tell me you’ve started arguing already. I’ve only been gone...about five minutes.”

“Ten.” Gojyo corrected morosely, turning away from the two of them to stare into the fire. It was ridiculous. Completely ridiculous. He bit into his cigarette. Fucking asshole.

“Hakkai? Is Sanzo coming back now?” the boy was looking out the glassless window again in the direction the surly priest had gone. Before Homura, Goku was never this anxious whenever Sanzo just wanted to go off alone to meditate. But ever since Homura...well...everything that had happened with him just proved how frail Sanzo really was. A mere human with the resilience of a twig when compared to a god. That’s why he hated it whenever Sanzo was alone because that would make Goku feel alone. And then there was always that threat that the aloness would last forever if Sanzo never came back.

“Eh. Soon. After he calms down a bit.” Tenpou replied, amusedly as he sat himself down by Gojyo’s feet and leaned his chin upon the other’s knee. Gojyo froze. “I think I angered him. Don’t you think so, Gojyo?”

The redhead shrugged. “How the hell would I know?”

“Be it of friend or foe.” Tenpou recited with a twinkle in his eye. “One cannot help but see, a third set of footprints in the snow.”

“Damn you!” he lifted his hand to angrily strike him away, “Maybe one good knock on the head’ll send you back!” but it was caught by Goku’s fierce grip.

“Stop! Gojyo don’t! Not Ten-chan!” he held on harder as he repeated the name.

He didn’t know how he knew. He just did. All the questions that were asked of him...

Who taught you how to read, Goku?

It wasn’t Sanzo, was it?

Then who?

...and so he began to think really hard about it. Who? Who? Who? For three nights, he’d been asking himself, finally resorting to asking the goddess of mercy (wherever she...he was)...who?

And so that night he dreamed about a library, a comforting hand upon his shoulder as another one pointed out the squiggles laid out on the paper before him. “Read it out loud with me, Goku...” Faceless, but in the shiny reflection of the book, he saw someone he thought he recognized.

“I won’t let you hurt Ten-chan! It’s probably not his fault that he’s here. I don’t know what happened, but you can’t hurt him! I won’t let you! Never!” Goku was starting to sound like a small child.

Gojyo grit his teeth. Man, it was starting to hurt.

Tenpou could only stare dumbly at the scene. Goku had known. But the longer he thought about it, the more he found it less surprising. The boy had always been more perceptive than they all thought and it was a grave miscalculation on his part that he could hide this secret from Goku for very long. And it was more than he deserved from somebody he supposedly abandoned...or will abandon sometime.

While the two grappled, Tenpou briskly got up and went for the door. He needed to feel the wind against his face again. Goku and Gojyo didn’t notice the lack of presence until wood slammed against wood. “See what you did!” shouted Goku before he went to follow. The half-breed caught him by the collar.

“Oi. Goku...” he said, thoughtful this time. “How long did you know about him?”

“I guess...I guess I never totally completely forgot.” the boy replied, looking at his wrists as if expecting his gauntlets to transform before his eyes.

“And you’re not in the least worried about Hakkai?”

“Why should I? Hakkai’s the one who always knows his way around. He’ll find his way back, but Ten-chan...Ten-chan seems really lost around here.”

Why was it so easy for him to grasp the concept of the two of them switching? Gojyo could only wonder.

The reincarnation part...the half-breed could accept, although he preferred not to linger on it. Enemies have called him Kenren Taishou before. Homura did. Those soldiers in the tower did. But he never really accepted the idea. Neither could Sanzo, and he was supposed to be the closest to heaven any mortal could ever be.

But Goku was over five hundred years old. He never died. He knew ALL of them. So could it be that somewhere in that ape brain of his, he never registered the difference between Hakkai and Tenpou, between Sanzo and Konzen, between me and...

“Saru, you stay here and wait for Sanzo.” Gojyo got up, headed for the door and left before Goku could argue.

...as if there never really was a difference in the first place.

****

Goku stirred, opened his eyes. Couldn’t sleep. Maybe sleeping on his left side. Nope. Right side. Nope. Back? Nuh huh. The mattress of his little bed creaked, incessantly as he tossed and turned because something tickled his nose like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Left, right...back...stare at the ceiling....

“Will you just go to sleep bakasaru!!!!” Konzen roared, shooting up in bed with obvious frustration. Even in the darkness his hair seemed to shine unnaturally.

“But I can’t, Konzen!” he replied, big-eyed and tucking his legs up beneath him. The ever-present sound of clanking chains accompanying his movement. Konzen never admitted it, but he knew that if he heard them nearby, things were relatively good. And Goku was safe. Hell if he’d admit it.

“It’s easy. Just close your eyes and shut up!”

“I’m worried about Ten-chan.” That was about the hundredth time he’d said it in the past three days.

“Tenpou doesn’t need people worrying about him.” the Kanzeon’s nephew replied, a bit more subdued. “He can take care of himself, despite all the trouble he causes.”

“But still...”

A vein popped out. “But.Still.What???”

“Feels like wolves.”

“Wolves? What are those?”

“Big hairy monsters that walk on four legs with really scary yellow teeth. Whenever I smelled them around...or thought they were nearby, I had to climb into a tree...all the time because they can’t climb.”

“Sounds like youkai to me.”

“Wolves. Are there wolves in heaven, Konzen?”

“Sure. They’re called politicians.”

“Konzen!”

A sigh. “Goku...just go to-”

But a shrill cry shook the night, piercing the walls around them, right down to the marrow of their bones. The first was followed by a second, which was then followed by another until a whole grotesque chorus of fierce wails arose, like a wave gaining momentum...

Konzen tried to switch on the light, but the moment he did, the bulb shattered, raining down on them in shimmering pieces. The glass of the window cracked. And a cold wind...

****

The cold wind bit at Tenpou’s neck and he hunched over to pull his collar up. It was a futile attempt at warmth, yet he didn’t mind because lately, the term ‘futility’ had made itself a permanent and cozy niche in his mind.

You will fail.

You will die.

You will sin.

You will cry.

You will turn into your own victim. Quietly, the metal cuffs seethed as the gusts picked up. They were coming. The sun was setting as he prepared himself to kill for the first time. Taking a life seemed so clinical, the written word making the act seem an act and nothing more than an act. The word nothing more than a word, but as there had always existed an incongruity between words and actions, actions and thoughts, surely the deed must carry with it a heavy burden, to a certain extent a specific type of trauma that comes with the pinnacle of immorality.

That is not to say that there aren’t those who deserve to die. There are...

And so is there any being better fit than a god to execute those mortals unworthy of life?

And what of the gods unworthy of their immortality? Who to execute them?

Wallowing in irony, Tenpou thought of his other self. Why, a mortal of course.

He took a moment to indulge himself in a strange vanity, that the mortal man he will become will be unordinary, that part of humanity chosen from the rest because he is of celestial background......

“I only believe in my leading idea that men are in general divided by a law of nature into two categories,” Tenpou once read. It still held a certain, egotistical truth with him. “inferior (ordinary), that is, so to say, material that serves only to reproduce its kind, and men who have the gift or the talent to utter a new word. The second category all transgress the law; they are destroyers.”

But if such a one is forced for the sake of his idea to step over a corpse or wade through blood, he can, I maintain, find himself, in his conscience, a sanction for wading through blood.

“But I hate blood.”

“What a coincidence,” someone said behind him. “So do I.” A cold hand brushed over his hair, causing the clinging snowflakes to shimmer down, only to disappear as the wind whisked them away to nothingness. “So does he. But he’s used to it- seeing it every time he looks at me. And I’m used to it- seeing it every time I look in the mirror. Which leaves you.” Gojyo settled down behind Tenpou until they were back to back. “Apparently you haven’t been looking at me enough to realize that I’m not-”

“Of course you aren’t.” the marshal cut in. “Nor did I ever expect it of you.”

“Ah, then why cuddly moment?”

“I was making sure. And now I am sure that you are not Kenren Taishou.”

“How so?”

“You simply aren’t.”

“Does he smoke?”

“Yes.”

“Does he drink?”

“Quite a bit.”

Gojyo didn’t get it. “So what’s the difference?”

“Simple.”

“What?”

“He’d let me lie to him.” Tenpou stifled a laugh as he leaned into what little warmth he could feel from the half-breed’s skin.

Gojyo snorted. “What a pushover.”

“I’ll quote you on that next time I see him. Usually I am the one who is...how do you say...”

“Pushed over?”

“So to speak...” Tenpou drifted off, his mind dipping itself once again in a pool of reminiscence. He would like to think it was all for the sex, because it was good sex. Nothing Gojyo wouldn’t have been able to provide had he asked at that moment three days ago. Not just physical release...

“So...” Gojyo struck up the conversation again, this time around feeling less uncomfortable. “Does he...you know...”

“We don’t use that word in heaven.”

“What a coincidence, we’re reluctant to use it here too. But does he?”

“Most likely.”

“And you?”

There were some things he just couldn’t get around. “I do.”

I do. My god, it sounded like...

Tenpou felt an elbow jab him playfully in the back. “Oi, Tenpou.”

“Mh?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette on you, would you now?”

“Actually...I do.”

****

“Taishou. Hey, you awake?” Kenren felt a hand slapping his face, not all to gentle, but not like a pissed off woman either. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring at the great fabricated sky of heaven, dotted with numerous stars disappearing with the encroaching dawn. “Taishou.”

He couldn’t move his legs. “What?”

“How’s the sky look from down there, eh?” Zenon asked.

“Shut the hell up. Where’s Tenpou?” he added without thinking.

“Around, playing things by ear.” the fiery haired man as he hauled Kenren up to a sitting position. The two of them were situated on a hill overlooking the Western Army’s living complex which was, as per orders, surrounded by the recently vacated troops.

Kenren blinked away the blurriness of sleep and registered his surroundings. The entire building was shut off...the doors, windows...everything. And attached to each closed opening was a white slip of paper with neatly stroked characters on them. Spirit wards. “What the hell’s happening?”
“We’re just enacting the military’s containment policy over our own grounds. It’s a quarantine.” Zenon responded, his one eye perusing the premises like a hawk. Off to the side stood Shien, arms crossed and as still as ever, right next to Goujun. They looked like a pair of pale statues from his vantage point. At the opposite edge sat Homura who, as always, was trying to keep a low profile.

“A quarantine? That’s only necessary for the containment of a disease.” Kenren objected. “And we’re kami. We don’t get-”

“It all depends on how you define an infection. Because according to high sources, we have been infected by youkai. And so we are containing them.”

“What youkai?” Realization dawned. “What the fuck! That’s absolutely crazy!” He tried to leap up to his feet, only to land flat on his face.

“You’re not going anywhere. Not in at least thirty minutes, and everything should be done by then.” Zenon seemed annoyingly calm, as did the rest of the Western Army around them, as if they were standing witness to a funeral of sorts. The soldier pulled Kenren back up. “Now sit still unless you want Goujun and the others to see you crawling to get back on your ass.”

Kenren scowled.

“That’s a good general.”

- TBC -

On to part 11
Back to part 9
Back to Mitsima's Fictions
Back to Fictions