Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Sweet Decay ❯ Wrong and Unseemly ( Chapter 5 )

Sweet Decay

By Eline

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There is an old story--its origins lost in time--about a holy man who travelled west and obtained the Sutras that held the power to make or unmake the world. There might have been a few discrepancies in the telling of the tale, but it was very clear on one thing.

The journey had ended and the Sutras were brought into the care of a mortal priesthood.

So when another quest was started, it was entirely conceivable that the journey would follow certain patterns set by an ancient precedent . . .

What would it take to stop* this* story?

* * * * * * * * * * *

When no summons came for him, Homura pondered that afternoon in the Recorder's Office and came to the realisation that he did not regret the act at all. He did regret that Konzen had not consented to it and that he, Homura, should have known better. The man had been practically untouched after all, but that fact had only fanned the dark desire that ruled him for that brief time.

He had known the insidious thrill of it as he sated his lust. It was want in its basest form. It did not conceive of being denied. It was far too simple an idea in itself--desire and action following each other without thought or pause. It did not care about consequences and in a way, it was free of the constraints of Heaven and therefore alien.

Itan, was it?

* * * * * * * * * * *

Friendship and brotherhood.Did an itanunderstand those concepts?

He had offered them to Son Goku. Son Goku with his limiters and his entirely human way of thinking.

It was, he had guessed, too much to hope for that Son Goku would take him up on it.

The storm had passed. Somewhere to the east, a jeep and its occupants would be on their way again.

"You don't seem surprised." Silent and watchful at his flank, Shien spoke up for the first time since they had conceded the battlefield once again.

"Should I be?"

"Does it matter? In the end, one way or the other . . ." Zenon perched at one corner of the dais, reassembled his gun and checked the loading mechanism with almost loving care.

It should not have mattered. It couldn't have been that easy to pry the boy away from his keeper. That particular bond was the strongest safeguard of all. Still, it would have been no small victory to win Son Goku from Konzen . . .

Homurashrugged. "As you said--one way or the other."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Konzen Douji told himself that he was beyond embarrassment. There was nothing to be embarrassed about. He was, after all, doing a favour for his holier than holy aunt.

Then again, his dearest auntie was not the one crawling under tables and following a trail of sticky red bean paste in search of one troublesome monkey. Half the afternoon had been lost to the search already. For the hundredth time that day, Konzen cursed the errand that had brought him to the Palace and the impulse that had driven Goku to follow him. With unerring timing, Goku had announced his presence at noon. And he was *starving*.

According to the manuals on childcare that Tenpou had provided--entirely unasked and unwanted, he might add--children were curious and it was not the least bit surprising for them to disobey adults all the time. The manuals did not however, explain *why* Konzen Douji had to put up with it. Already at the end of his rope, Konzen had found him lunch to keep him quiet. Then Goku had wandered off into the maze-like Palace when he had been diverted for the merest second by some hapless flunky.

Images of all the potential trouble Goku could cause in the Palace had spurred him into action. Almost an hour later, he was weary of the chase and almost ready to give up. The Palace complex was just far too large . . .

He did not feel up to asking Tenpou for help. But if he was going to be a laughingstock, he might as well be one amongst the few friends he actually had. Perhaps he would go to the Marshal's office later . . . if he could not find Goku after this last set of rooms.

"Goku? We have to go back now!"

Konzen sighed and checked another alcove, which turned out to be an unused room with no furnishings for hiding places. Goku was small enough to wriggle into the most unlikely hiding places--especially ones that he, being significantly taller, could not fit into. And the last smudgy bean paste-coated handprint he had seen had been two corridors ago--

"Konzen--what are you doing in there?"

Homura. He froze as he finally registered the presence behind him. Too late--he had let his guard down *here* of all places. While imagining the trouble Goku could get into, he had forgotten about his personal demon.

Only he was no longer a spectre of bad dreams now. Homura was actually *here*--standing far too close for comfort and blocking the way out of the room.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, opting for the offensive out of desperation.

"I should be asking *you* that. Surprising as it seems, I actually live here."

They were, Konzen realised with growing alarm, in a relatively isolated wing of the Emperor's Palace. And Homura lived there.

That mocking smile again. Can you stop me?

Konzen Douji could only back away as the half-god came closer.

Cold to the pit of his stomach, he shoved again at Homura's shoulders ineffectively. The half-god was not like the other gods, and more than a match for someone who had done nothing more strenuous than running after a hyperactive brat for the past few centuries. And, Konzen realised a moment before absolute panic descended upon him, Homura probably didn't care about who he was or who his relations were. Refreshing as that might have been-

Was it his imagination or did Homura actually look more demonic up close?

No, there really was a demon in front of him--he could have sworn that those unnatural eyes were glowing as Homura leaned in closer.

The flat of Konzen's hand connected sharply with Homura's nose and shoved with the momentary strength born of panic. It made his hand and arm ache, but there had been a definite sense of satisfaction that followed that blow. Wrong and unseemly as it was . . .

Homura jerked back and the strange fire in his gaze seemed to subside. Konzen retreated as much as he could in the cramp space.

"Are you usually this cold to friends and lovers alike?"

"Listen, I'd rather copulate with a rabid hyena," he said, seizing his rapidly recovering outrage and using it as a shield.

At that point, Konzen would have done it with his perverted hag of an aunt. Only he didn't say it aloud--the fates might actually be listening for once. He didn't even *know* which was the lesser of the two evils. And perhaps this was hysteria talking--too loud and too fast . . .

"*Would* you now?" Those sly, knowing eyes saidNo, you don't know the first thing about it.

"You've never really touched yourself, have you?" Homura asked conversationally. "Like this?"

"Stop that," Konzen snapped even as he reddened. He tried to pry Homura's hand off, but it was a futile gesture. Just like this fight. He turned his head, steeling himself for the worst to come.

"Don't look away. Don't even try," Homura whispered, a sharp threat gloved in velvet tones. His mismatched eyes never left him as his hands slid lower.

In the end, he found that he could not look away.

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How to seduce something that was not of Heaven but purely of the Earth?

Would an elemental being know what revenge was? Could Son Goku's original form understand what had been done to it?

The earth child was strong, to be sure. Stronger than the boy who was blinded by the perceived limitations set on him by Heaven. And it was reputed to be impossible to reason with, more of a destructible force of nature than a rational being.

On the other hand, Son Goku, with his human thoughts and human emotions, was ever so firmly bonded to Konzen's cause.

Or rather, bonded to Konzen himself.Homura conceded defeat, knowing himself outmatched. What power had he, to challenge a force that had shaped destiny? After all, he was not fully a child of the earth, possessing the blood of his formerly immortal mother that chained him to Heaven.

This irked him a little-the sharp feeling of bitter irony that pricked him occasionally.

Son Goku's cooperation was not entirely necessary if all they wanted was the power for the ritual. Still, it would have gone a little way in soothing what could be seen as a gross inequality in the scales . . .

* * * * * * * * * * *

When Konzen awoke, there was nothing except an aching soreness to indicate that it had been anything but a dream.

He got to his feet, absently noting that he had been resting on a stone bench facing an ornamental lake somewhere in the Palace interior. Perhaps he had drifted off-

No, that was just wishful thinking. He sat back down again, aware of the scent of the half god on him. It smelt a little like scorched earth, dark and charred.

That scent brought back more than Konzen Douji would have liked to remember. Wrong and unseemly as it had been . . .

"Konzen! Konzen!" A soft weight cannoned into his side, unbalancing him from his perch on the bench and effectively derailing his train of thought.

"Oi Konzen? What are you doing here?" Goku showed no sign of moving from where he was seated on Konzen's torso. "We've looked everywhere for you!"

There was something about Goku that inevitably unleashed Konzen's store of righteous indignation, regardless of the time or place. "Wh--Where have you been? Stupid monkey! I searched all over the place for *hours*--"

"I went to find Ten-chan and Ken-nichan. 'Cos you kept talking to all those boring people," Goku explained brightly. This was confirmed by the approach of a pair of familiar toilet slippers and a set of non-regulation leather boots with steel toecaps.

"Yep, the party never stops with us," the General said with an idiotic grin.

"Napping the sun? Getting old are we?" Tenpou asked, half in jest.

New awareness of Tenpou's regard gave him pause. He could recognise something in that look. Something in that tone of voice. So familiar . . . he had seen its kindred barely an hour ago in an alien visage. But a professional soldier like Tenpou was so much better at hiding it than Homura had been.

Not you too . . .

"I'm fine," he said shortly. Didn't Tenpou already have a paramour on a regular basis? Did the denizens of Heaven mentally undress each other like his aunt did on a daily basis? But Kanzeon leered as a matter of *habit*-there was nothing threatening in it.

Was there?

"Well, you better get up before people get the wrong idea," Kenren said with a meaningfully raised eyebrow. "Wrong-er than the ones they're already having, of course."

"Saaa, not in front of Goku," Tenpou murmured mildly over his customary cigarette.

Looking from General to Marshal, Konzen recognised the slight sexual friction between them almost immediately. It was the Goku-almost-caught-us-breaking-rule-fifty-seven-section-three-on-the-desk-a nd-we're-still-horny kind of tension.

"What? What about me? What were you going to say?"

Konzen groaned inwardly. If this led to any embarrassing questions, he would kill the pair of them-slowly, over hot coals.

"Nothing," Tenpou and Kenren chorused, eyeing the vein throbbing on Konzen's forehead in the manner of miners who listened to canaries.

Goku analysed this and threw it aside in favour of more pressing concerns. "I'm hungry!"

Kenren slapped his forehead in amazement. "Not again! We just had tea!"

"But that was almost an hour ago!" Goku whined.

Konzen was torn between taking Goku off their hands and sharing the misery of a hyperactive monkey with his sole friendly acquaintances-who would probably keep throwing coded glances at each other the whole evening until they could be alone again.

The unwelcome insight reminded him of every single ache and twinge he was feeling. If he was going to be sore, then he was not going to be uncomfortable alone.

"Shut up," Konzen said decisively. "We go for dinner. Then you're going to bathe and get to sleep an hour early."

Tenpou and Kenren exchanged one of those we're-only-doing-this-for-the-cute-little-monkey looks. "Haaaaiii, otousan . . .You heard him, kiddo, let's go . . ."

"Only if we're having those pancakes for dessert! Can we? Can we-"

Surrounded by the familiar bickering, Konzen let himself be dragged away.

* * * * * * * * * * *

For all the mortal ties that he held so close to his heart, Genjo Sanzo never appeared overly affected by the presence of friend or foe.

"You again."His attentions were clearly unwanted here in this dark room that reeked of far too many cigarettes and flat beer.

"It seems like I can't detach Goku from you even now, Konzen."

"For the last time, I don't care about what you want. Your reasons, if any, don't interest me."

"Oh? He might have joined my cause. That night in the woods . . . you saw his face."

"He could have gone to you," Sanzo admitted, grinding out the last cigarette in the overflowing ashtray. "But that wouldn't have mattered."

Liar.He was lying through his teeth. At least Konzen had been honest in the end. Correction--Konzen had learned a lot faster. He had required only *one* close scrape with death to realise what was important. Mortals took it for granted all the time and later--much too late--they always wished that things could have been different.

So he had to push Sanzo--just to see how far he could be pushed.

"Would you say that to me here? Now? Knowing that I could rid you of your three burdens in seconds? Just say the word--"

Homuracaught the fist meant for his face just before it could connect, wrenching Sanzo's arm down and twisting it up behind his back. He used the leverage it gave him to push Sanzo facedown on the table.

"You can't seem to shrug them off as easily as you do me," Homura whispered into his ear. He was leaning on Sanzo's back, hips pressed up against the priest's rear--it took so much control to keep himself from fucking him here and now.

"Fuck you." Sanzo's voice was challenging--reckless and arrogant in his anger. Or so one might think. And how many could really think straight while in such close proximity with this man?

"I don't think so." He hauled the priest upright before propelling him back first onto the tabletop. "There might be questions about the bruises," Homura said, fastening one hand around the slender column of Sanzo's all too mortal throat.

Winded from the impact, the priest gasped for breath but did not attempt to remove the hand from his neck. His glare was back in full force, derisive and haughty. No, this man would not move even for the gods.

"Or I could just crush your windpipe with my thumb," Homura said sharply, knowing himself mocked.

"Why don't you?" That disdainful glare challenged him to move.

"Much as I would like to, it's more fun this way if you live."

"Games again . . . How like the gods," Sanzo hissed despite the pressure around his neck. "What's the point? It's not a good day until someone alive notices what a prick you are?"

Oh but he did not play fair, this mortal Genjo Sanzo. Not even with death staring him in the face.

"Much as I like you like this, Konzen . . . Not this time." Homura released him and stepped away before the temptation grew too strong. He would not be provoked by Konzen's incarnation, satisfying as it would be to break that fragile mortal shell.

Sanzosnorted. "I don't have all fucking eternity."

"Ah, now *that* is the point," Homura said with a grim smile before teleporting away.

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