Fic: Country Life (Saiyuki)

[daegaer]

Everyone tries to live peacefully at Kinzan.

"What the hell's that noise?" Gojyo said, startled out of sleep. His heart was pounding, telling him he needed to get under the bed and hide, which was stupid because the last time he'd heard anyone make a sound like that in the middle of the night had been when he was a kid. And Mom was long since dead. The agonised cry had been cut off, though if he listened hard he could hear someone trying to stop themselves crying. It was the kind of thing that probably Hakkai and Goku couldn't hear.

"Don't ever mention it," Hakkai said. "Ever, Gojyo. I'm going to check on Goku."

"No, seriously? Blondie Sanzo's sobbing like a baby and we're not mentioning it?"

"I mean it," Hakkai said, his face stern. "Don't spoil our reunion. I'll be back in a minute." He slipped out from the warmth of the quilts and Gojyo's arms and was gone.

Gojyo lay back and then reached over to turn on the old fashioned lamp. It cast a pleasant glow over the small room. Everything was so - authentic. It was sickening. Wooden floors, natural fibre bed linen, fresh country air – These guys were roleplaying at being old-timey monks, that was all. Maybe that was the miracle Kouryuu's dad had pulled off: being rich enough to afford all this nonsense. He'd probably paid for Seiun's friend's mother to go to a good doctor. That made sense. And being rich would have been what got him killed, poor bastard.

Hakkai slipped back in, and curled up beside him.

"So?"

"Goku's fine. That boy would sleep though a space ship landing beside him!"

"Did you check on Kouryuu?"

"Absolutely not. I didn't want the flesh flayed from my bones by the power of night-time sarcasm."

"So what's his problem?"

"I assume it's something to do with sleeping in the room where he saw his father cut into small pieces," Hakkai said. "He's very on edge."

"Huh," Gojyo said, and wrapped himself around Hakkai to shut him up. Small pieces.

He closed his eyes and saw the axe blade swing up.

* * *

It was wonderful to have Gojyo there, it really was, but he managed to rub almost everyone up the wrong way. From his over-enthusiastic description of the charms of the pleasant young woman who ran the village shop via his frank appraisal of the monastery's statue of the Merciful Goddess to his alarming over-sharing of images of vidstarlets with some novices who crept up to ask about life in the big city he was rapidly judged to be a bad influence.

"Kouryuu!" a monk in his fifties snapped, with all the familiarity of someone who had been a thorn in the side of a properly raised boy when he was a child and saw no reason to stop now, "Your servant is licentious and carnally-minded!"

Hakkai pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh dear.

"Servant?" Gojyo said in delighted outrage. "What the shit?"

"What now?" Kouryuu said, looking like his head might burst. He glared at Gojyo. "One word out of you and you can find somewhere else to sleep tonight."

"He's been corrupting the novices! Again!"

"Just a few movie trailers."

"Shut! Up!"

"And he said," the monk said, shaking slightly, "he said that the Merciful Goddess had – a, a – " He went pale.

"Stress-relieving squeezable ass," Gojyo said helpfully.

Hakkai cast his eyes upwards. Dear saints in heaven, please do a little ecumenical favour and rescue his dear idiot from himself. Kouryuu was looking at Gojyo like a cat that had seen a mouse it would dispatch out of sheer duty.

"That statue," he said, "is four hundred years old and in a local style that is a recognised intangible cultural heritage, the property of all humans, enriching our mental and spiritual worlds. It's carved out of rare wood and inlaid in precious materials, and is widely seen as one of the foremost exemplars of the style ever created. It has been revered by generations of pilgrims who come to pray before it –"

"Only men, seeing as the ladies ain't allowed here," Gojyo said. "And I can tell you, what they're praying to –"

" – and that is how you choose to describe it?" Kouryuu finished, at a louder volume. He glanced at the increasing crowd of monks. "Get in the damn house. Pray for forgiveness at my shrine to Koumyou Sanzo."

"Like hell –"

Hakkai grabbed Gojyo and pulled him towards the door.

"Shh," he whispered. "Remember when Kouryuu really hit you? Where do you think he learnt that?"

Gojyo did a double-take and stared at him. He was actually thinking, not just trying to wind people up. At last. Hakkai squeezed his arm encouragingly.

"Oh," he said. "Right."

"He should crawl to the proper shrine to Koumyou Sanzo and pray there!" a voice yelled from the crowd.

"Later," Kouryuu snapped. "I'll chastise him first. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

Hakkai stood in the hall, hugging Gojyo as Kouryuu made sure the door was properly closed. The thought of him being beaten to death for blasphemy wasn't attractive at all. He hoped he was being overly dramatic, but who knew what people got up to, so far from the city?

"Later, go to Koumyou's shrine and pray, very obviously," Kouryuu said. "And stop fucking trying to offend people. They're our hosts."

"Nice chastisement," Gojyo said and winked.

"Fuck you," Kouryuu said. "I'm too tired for this shit." He stalked off.

"I'll go to Koumyou's shrine with you," Hakkai said, putting an arm around Gojyo's waist.

"You're not even Buddhist."

"I want to make sure you go."

Gojyo looked down at him and sniggered at his innocent look. "The ass on that statue, Hakkai!"

"Shh! I know! It's very . . . traditional." They clung together, laughing.

It really was good, having Gojyo there.

* * *

The first week was fun, running around exploring the monastery. Kouryuu stopped looking out for traffic and kidnappers and perverts and people who wanted to offer kids drugged candy and all the other things he was convinced might happen on a quiet street in the city. Goku had never had such freedom. He had even got right out of sight now and then.

The monastery had birds called "chickens" that provided eggs. It turned out that eggs came right out of a bird's bum. Goku decided then and there he was never eating an egg ever again in his entire life. That lasted all the way up until Hakkai reminded him that a lot of cakes used eggs in their recipes, which was so unfair. And then Kouryuu made an omelette for him and smirked at him as he ate it, and – darn it, omelettes were made of eggs too.

The second week he started to notice how sad Kouryuu was. They'd brought everything from their family shrine with them and had set it up in the communal room of the little house, but there was a really big and scary shrine in the prayer hall. Kouryuu took him there and showed him the massive statues of the Lord Buddha and the Merciful Goddess and then had stepped through a door and bam, there was silver and gold everywhere. Kouryuu stood there, shaking his head and looking around, his mouth in a tight little twist. There were images on the walls of men with long, long hair, all in white robes, all with what looked like big silver candy jars before them. Standing on an easel, right in the middle, was a painting of –

"That's Grandpa!"

"Shh. Yeah, Goku. It is. He'll be there until it's his turn to go up on the wall."

Candles burnt around the big shiny silver jar in front of the painting. It gleamed and glimmered beautifully.

"Kouryuu?" Goku said, because he very much thought that there wasn't candy in that. "What's that?"

"A holy relic," Kouryuu said and made a sound half-way between laughter and a sob. He cleared his throat. "It's Grandpa's ashes, Goku."

Goku stole a look at him, at the way he was working his jaw. He was trying to make himself really angry so that he wouldn't have to feel sad. The monk who'd shown him the chickens had said that Grandpa had been martyred by heretics. He'd looked up being martyred on his communicator and it had shown him all sorts of horrible things, so no wonder Kouryuu was angry. He was angry too; he'd always just been told that Grandpa had died, like he was a kid. But that wasn't the point. Kouryuu needed him.

Goku stepped forward, making Kouryuu look at him, and bowed really deeply to Grandpa's ashes. Then he said his prayers as respectfully as he could, and halfway through Kouryuu's voice joined his, his deep voice clear of tears. When they'd finished they just stood there, and Kouryuu's arm came around his shoulder.

"I wish I could have met him," Goku said.

"Yeah," Kouryuu said. "But remember, Grandpa's an enlightened being. He knows you're here, Goku." He gave a quick squeeze and let go, as if embarrassed. "Let's get out of here. I'm going to boil eggs for your tea."

" . . . You're so mean."

Kouryuu gave him a tiny smirk and nodded towards the door. Goku grinned and walked out by his side.

So much for being a dumb monkey.

* * *

Kouryuu wandered out of his bedroom, dazed with the aftereffects of the nightmare and headed for the kitchenette. If only his father had had it remodelled into something a bit more modern, but they'd eaten with the monks so often – there really hadn't been any need to. He stepped in, belatedly registered Hakkai and Gojyo wrapped up in each other and turned on his heel to leave again.

Fuck. A man couldn't even get a cup of tea in the middle of the night in his own house without finding people at it in public.

"Kouryuu? Ah, Kouryuu? Sorry! I have the kettle on!"

"It's fine," he snarled, not turning around.

"Come on, Rin Sanzo," Gojyo said, and that fucking did it.

Kouryuu spun about, welcome fury taking over. "Don’t fucking call me that!"

"Sure thing. No more Rin Sanzo. Don’t you lot have fancy names you take on when you get sainted or whatever the word is? What's yours, then?"

"Are you attached to this asshole's appearance, Hakkai?" Kouryuu said, stalking up to them. "Because I'm about to rearrange it." Gojyo grinned down at him and he found himself going right into a combat stance. Sha was infuriating, from his ridiculous height, to the equally ridiculous low-slung pyjama pants he was just about wearing, to the carefully dishevelled hair. He needed a good blow to the thin, pointy nose.

"Why don't you have a nice cup of tea instead?" Hakkai said. "There are far too many antiques around to start fighting in here."

Kouryuu glared at him, but he was just standing there, teapot in hands, looking calm. How did the fucker always look so calm? Tea. Yes. He'd come out to get some tea to wash away the dream.

"Fine," he grumbled. "You'd better have made it properly."

Hakkai smiled and led him back into the kitchenette. They all sat around the little table as he poured, and Kouryuu drank. It was good.

"Thanks," he muttered into the depths of the cup. "Why are you two even up?"

"Couldn't sleep," Gojyo said, scratching his stomach in a common way that was apparently designed to draw Hakkai's eyes. Successfully.

Kouryuu snorted. He poured himself another cup. "Me neither. No one wake Goku, he needs his rest." He busied himself drinking tea. Thinking about Goku and the grinding wait for the false documents was better than the images that flashed up every time he closed his eyes in that damn room. He looked up to find the both looking at him intently. "What?" If they'd heard him they'd better keep it to their fucking selves. It was his business.

"The mention of Goku made me wonder," Hakkai said, "if anyone would like a snack? It might make us all sleep a little easier."

Shit. They probably had heard. At least Hakkai was willing to change the subject.

"Yeah? What sort of snack?"

"I was thinking Goku's favourite: eggs."

"Did you know they come out of a bird's bum?" Gojyo said breathlessly.

There was a moment's silence and then they were all laughing, trying to stifle the noise as much as possible. Fucking hell, Sha wasn't half the comedian he thought, how embarrassing. But neither of them seemed to be making fun of him, and the terrible images had receded.

He sat back, watching Hakkai whisk eggs and chop vegetables finely. He had alarming knife skills; it was something Kouryuu had decided never to think about too much. Gojyo started telling some story about the other trainees on his engineering course that still wasn't as amusing in the delivery as he probably thought it was, but somehow, sitting there in the small hours of the night, Kouryuu found himself able to laugh.

He drank tea when Hakkai refreshed the pot, and ate the omelette slid across the table to him, finding it strangely delicious due to not being consumed at a regular mealtime. When at last he heaved himself up he felt tired, but not the soul-deep exhaustion of misery that had driven him from his bed.

"I'm going to sleep," he said. "I have to interview the older monks tomorrow about changes in ritual. And I need energy in case Goku starts climbing the Merciful Goddess's trees again."

"I'll make sure he doesn't," Gojyo said, and looked vaguely insulted as both Hakkai and Kouryuu blinked at him. "Hey, I feel I should play my part in civilising him, ya know?"

"Thanks," Kouryuu said gruffly, and went back to the bedroom, bare feet silent on the floor that had been sanded down ruthlessly until no one could tell where the bloodstains had been at all.

He stood where the middle of the largest pool of blood had been and looked at the portrait of his father on the wall. It was terrible, very kitschy, his father in full robes against a pastel foil background that glimmered and shed glitter.

"If you're going to appear in my dreams, you could at least be presentable," he said.

Then he got into bed, and was asleep within minutes.