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Sweet Decay	By : Eline Category: Gensomaden Saiyuki > General Views: 3639 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gensomaden Saiyuki, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 4
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Sweet Decay

By Eline

* *
* * * * * * * * *

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 itan understand 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 . . .

Homura shrugged. "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 said
No, 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.

* *
* * * * * * * * *

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-and-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--"

Homura caught 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.

Sanzo snorted. �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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Sweet Decay