Koumyou Sanzo was normally the exemplar of saintly serenity, a picture reinforced by the sweetly gentle smile and the long, braided blonde hair. He never raised his voice, and he was unfailingly polite and good-natured. But when the corners of that mouth turned down, it caused grown men to blanch and sweat. Like it did now.
"So," Koumyou said in an icy voice. "Who has been spreading these disgusting rumours around the temple?" The three men in front of him trembled a little more.
"No one, Lord Sanzo," squeaked the monk on the abbot's right. More truthful than his colleagues, the abbot spoke next.
"And everyone. You know how these things are." The abbot flapped one arm. "It's just talk, my lord."
"Thankfully, I do not know 'how these things are', nor do I wish to." Koumyou rose to his feet in a rustle of robes and frowned at his audience. The heretofore silent monk swallowed audibly. "So this is how it will be. If I ever hear so much as a hint of this business again, I will take Kouryuu and we will leave Kinzan Temple." The abbot went white.
"You wouldn't!" he blurted. In a voice so cold it seemed to leave frost in the midsummer air, Koumyou spoke.
"Try me." Then he turned on his heel and left. Ten minutes later he was pacing his room, his normally placid demeanour shattered. Those, those degenerates! he spluttered in the privacy of his own thoughts. How could they think-! The rustle of cloth and a tentative knock gave him enough warning to school his features to some semblance of his normal expression as a six year old Kouryuu poked his head around the door frame.
"Master? I heard you moving around. Do you need anything?" Koumyou studied the boy for a moment. With his golden hair, slender body and surreal purple eyes, there was no denying the child was beautiful.
"No, thank you, I am fine. Go to bed."
"Yes, sir," the boy returned. "Good night, Master."
"Good night, Kouryuu," Koumyou managed as the door slid shut. He shoved the outer door wide and stepped out into the balmy evening, ignoring the way his hands were balled into fists. Maybe he should arrange to have the boy's sleeping room placed at the other end of the compound. But that created its own problems – the other apprentices teased the child unmercifully, calling him 'river rat' and 'river orphan'. With the boy's fighting spirit, Koumyou knew one day the temple bullies would gain a lesson at the end of Kouryuu's fists, and the longer he kept them apart, the further off that day was. Two steps brought him to a large maple tree, in its full foliage of summer. He swung, his fist denting the heavy trunk in a most unsatisfying manner. Fools and idiots! he snarled in his head as he swung again.
"Well, here's something I never thought to see," a voice remarked, and Koumyou spun. Standing not too far from him was a familiar figure, dressed in the same manner as himself, raven hair glistening in the little moonlight that leaked through the heavy leaves that swayed against the sky.
"Ukoku. For once I think your timing is flawed. I am in no mood for company." Light glinted from Ukoku's spectacles as he glided closer.
"I disagree. When the great Koumyou Sanzo is worked up enough to try and murder a tree with his fists, I think that is when he needs company the most." He tilted his head, a puzzled look on his face. "Whatever is the matter?" Koumyou turned back to the tree and swung again.
"Nothing. Nothing but talk, poisonous words hissed in the darkness by a pack of perverted, degenerate fools."
"Ah," was all Ukoku said. Koumyou was startled when a minute later he heard the rustling of fabric, and the noise of things hitting the wooden walkway. He turned back to see Ukoku shimmy out of his robes and roll his black arm warmers down his pale skin. Dressed in his skin tight sleeveless shirt and a pair of loose cotton trousers, Ukoku approached him, and he was surprised enough to let the other man remove his sutra and unbelt his robe. Koumyou grabbed at Ukoku's wrists.
"What are you doing?" he demanded. Undeterred, the dark haired man slithered away from his grip and removed his bamboo breastplate, tossing it to the walkway. "Ukoku, stop that!" In the ensuing tussle over the clothing, Koumyou's robe joined Ukoku's, followed by his own arm covers. Incensed, he lunged at the other man, and Ukoku blocked his strike, pulling back a little and stepping into a defensive stance.
"Now, hit me, instead of that poor defenceless tree. If you can, that is." The anger Koumyou had been repressing boiled over in his chest and he lunged again, teeth bared in a silent snarl. The pair went at it, grunts and the sound of flesh striking flesh ringing through the trees. Koumyou had the slight advantage of height, and was stronger than Ukoku, but the dark haired man was faster and younger. Without their sutras or other techniques, they were evenly matched. A half hour later, neither of them had actually managed to land a blow, and they were both panting and sweating. Koumyou's anger had dissipated, and he knew that he was going to be one solid bruise from elbow to wrist and knee to ankle in a few hours from blocking Ukoku's attacks. He stepped back, lifting his hands in surrender with a ghost of his familiar smile on his face. It was then that Ukoku struck, slamming him to the ground with a flying tackle, pinning him between his body and the unyielding earth.
"Now," he purred in Koumyou's ear, "that you're at my mercy, tell me about these poisonous words." Koumyou sighed and tried to relax against the hard ground.
"They think... Those idiots..." His tension level rose as he tried to explain and he couldn't help twisting, bucking Ukoku off so he could sit up. "They think I'm fucking Kouryuu!" Shockingly, Ukoku laughed.
"My dear Koumyou, so what?" The dark haired man clamped a hand on the other's shoulder. "Why are you so worked up by words that have been following you for years?"
"You don't understand. I couldn't care less what they say about me. But the boy's at an age where... If Kouryuu should hear those rumours..." He let his voice trail off and shuddered, looking away from Ukoku and into the night. "What if he thought I wanted..?" The thought was too monstrous to finish, and Koumyou shuddered again.
"Ah," Ukoku murmured again. "So here is the heart of the problem." His bruising grip on Koumyou's shoulder loosened and became a caress. "All this anger comes from your desire to protect." He sighed, and shifted his hand to cup Koumyou's cheek, turning the other man to face him. "From what you've told me of him, the boy isn't an idiot, unlike some others I could mention. He's probably heard the rumours already." Koumyou froze as that thought hit him. "Think about it. You're a handsome man, he's a beautiful boy, and people have tiny, sordid minds. My advice to you, my friend, is fuck 'em. They obviously just want to get in your pants, otherwise why would they imagine you in someone else's?" The mischievous twinkle in Ukoku's dark eyes startled a laugh from Koumyou, and he flopped back onto the ground with a sigh, closing his eyes.
"You're right."
"Of course I'm right," Ukoku replied, stretching out beside him. He allowed the silence to settle between them as the sweat from their fight dried on their bodies. "By the way, I think that's the first time I've ever heard you use a profanity." Ukoku grinned. "Gutter talk becomes you." Koumyou's eyes opened to slits, and he turned his head to study the other man.
"Why are you here?" Koumyou asked, finally curious. Ukoku laughed again.
"Actually, I came to tell you I now have a student of my own. And if you think yours makes the rumour mills grind..." Ukoku shook his head in mock sadness.
"Oh?"
"He was a street corner whore." Koumyou choked on a laugh, his eyes going wide as he processed the implications and consequences of that act.
"So you finally heard the calling to teach," Koumyou mused aloud. "Something I never expected from you, my friend." Ukoku gave a slight bow of his head, his mischievous smile back in place.
"What can I say? You're my inspiration, Koumyou. When you're not trying to kill trees by punching them, that is."
"What does your boy think of your sarcasm, hmm?"
"He hasn't figured it out yet. But I have high hopes he will." The dark haired man paused. "Eventually." He rose to his feet, his features in shadow as he held his hand out to Koumyou. "Now, where's your sake? I think we both deserve a drink."
"Yes," the blonde replied, accepting the hand and rising also. "I believe we do." He kept the other Sanzo's hand in his own for a moment, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, Ukoku." Ukoku waved the thanks away.
"Don't mention it." Ukoku poked at a spreading bruise on his forearm and winced. "Really. Don't ever mention it again."
"Yes, we can't ruin your reputation as a cold, unfeeling bastard, can we?" Those dark eyes slanted across to meet his for a moment, then Ukoku looked away. It was Koumyou's turn to smile mischievously and rest a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Don't worry, the secret of your humanity is safe with me. Now, that sake isn't going to drink itself." And with that, he led the younger man into his private quarters to fill the rest of the night with sake, tobacco smoke, and light hearted conversation.
