Bad Company
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Summary: Constantly on high alert, Genjo Sanzo, the egotistic president of Kinzan Publishing Co., had always derided the threats made on his life. Like hell he cared about that. Putting Son Goku, his ever-optimistic, ever-dogging assistant, in said harm's way, however, caused the pompous man to seek and spill blood for the first time in his solitary life.
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A/N: Thank you to promocat, Aku no hana, and Go thru here who reviewed the past two chapters! :D
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It was wrong. Everything was fucking wrong. And he knew it was fucking wrong, but did he listen? Fuck no, he didn't.
But that didn't stop Sanzo from actually stopping Goku once they were about to cross the bridge they were about to burn with their hands that were currently fanning on each other's heated skin.
"Goku, let's not. You're still on recovery, idiot," the blond managed to grunt from his too strained voice, glad at himself for not being emotionally dragged around by this young man that whined at the loss of the contact of skin against lips. They were in the bed now, with Goku beneath Sanzo, and the pale man heaved a sigh, and Goku followed in lament. The brunet didn't say anything, save for a minute pout and eyes that begged for some physical contact. And Sanzo acquiesced, he realized, as he had always been when it came to this infuriating person. He leaned his forehead to Goku's and looked straight into his eyes, "Not yet." And he placed a kiss on the tanned, young man's brow.
With that, Goku looked saddened for a moment, only to smile again when he looped his arms around the blond's neck. "Thanks."
That night, they slept, as comfortably as they could, in each other's company—Goku, making sure he didn't jolt around too much and accidentally elbow Sanzo's face, and Sanzo, making sure he wouldn't accidentally elbow Goku's ribs.
Everything would be fine, they mused.
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Goku stretched his arms overhead and leaned back on his swivel chair, whining for lunch. Today's work really piled up due to the shooting incident a few weeks ago, and it only fueled publicity to Kinzan's already booming popularity.
"Goku, we're having lunch, care to join with us?" asked Jien, who was now by the door with Yaone, the kind and polite girl from the sales department.
"You go ahead, I'll have lunch later. I'll have to be on double time for my absences, and help you with my work that was supposed to be mine," Goku grinned as he scratched his nape. "Besides, if I submit these late, the boss will be the one to shoot me this time."
Jien laughed and waved, leaving Goku in his cubicle. Goku hummed along as he typed memos away on his PC, creaking his neck every few minutes, and waited until the last person closed the office door and left for lunch. Amber eyes then darted to the wall clock, the numbers pointing at twelve. He stood up and stretched once more, idly glancing around him to see if anyone were around, and seeing none, he walked over to the president's office, knocked once, and entered with practiced ease.
"Hey, Sanzo, time to eat lunch."
Sanzo didn't look up from the documents he stamped, and gave a reply with an offhanded, "Wait in a bit."
Goku shrugged and closed the door, and walked over to Sanzo's desk and sat near the man's left arm, his eyes scanning over the pile of papers that were almost done. "How many more?"
"Probably five more before—hey."
"Hm?"
Sanzo cocked an eyebrow at a wide-eyed and seemingly innocent Goku leaning a bit too close to his ear, along with winding his arms around his neck. He sighed, and turned his attention to the documents in his hand. "What did I tell you about not bothering me when I'm working?"
"But I'm not, am I?"
"Yes you are."
Goku jutted his lips, miffed, and nibbled on the blond's ear. "If you really don't want me to, at least let me go there."
Sanzo didn't look up from the papers, "Now?"
"Yes, now. It's been a week and I promised myself I'll rip that guy a new one."
Sanzo set aside the papers and regarded Goku with attention, "You want to go now?" Goku nodded. Sanzo sighed, and patted him on the head. "Don't get shot."
Goku grinned, and went off, but not before hazardously pecking Sanzo on the cheek, leaving the blond stunned.
The door closed once more, and Sanzo was left in his thoughts, thoughts of how everything turned to what they were now, and only in a span of a few days. He had known Goku for five years now, and had only recently became Goku's employer, and this type of development was something that he had not once thought of.
Or maybe he had—like the rare times he mentally buried thoughts of wanting more than simply ruffling the brunet's hair.
Last night was a great aversion of a disaster-to-be. He didn't want what little of a barrier he had between him and Goku to come crumbling down at a mere gesture of undulating of hips against a too willing crotch. No. He was much more in control than that. Plus, he didn't want an unwanted visit to the hospital again because of Goku's healing wounds suddenly bursting open if they had done something quite hot and heavy. Sanzo would never hear the end of it from Hakkai.
He sighed, and decided that nothing had changed between him and his assistant—or maybe something had changed, creeping its way to their insides, waiting for these troublesome things called feelings and temptation to rear their ugly heads.
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Goku rocked on his heels as he waited for the elevator to reach the floor where Kami was held captive. Grinning, he toyed with his necklace, feeling the coldness of the metal against his skin. The necklace was a present—of sorts—from Sanzo, well, recalling the events of which he was given that necklace, the appropriate term should be—
"…'Vice President intimidating her nephew into buying me a present because I outlasted all the other assistants that the president had,' huh." Goku pressed his lips, trying and failing to stifle a wide smile. He and Sanzo might not have bonded over in the most intimate way possible last night, but it was all right, he mused, "As long as Sanzo is still Sanzo." Sanzo wouldn't be Sanzo if he gave in easily, right? Right.
"Sanzo will come around in time," Goku smiled to himself.
The elevator doors opened, and he roamed the vast, almost empty floor, hearing nothing but the whirs of exhaust fans, the humming of the fluorescent lights, and his own footsteps. Once he reached the end of the corridor, he saw a solitary, familiar figure armed with a rifle leaning by a single door. "Hey, Gojyo!" he yelled out to the redhead guarding the door that Goku supposed was the room that contained Kami, "is he still there? I want to beat him up for trying to break my ribs."
Gojyo, stubbing out a cigarette on the floor, smirked at the younger man, and laid down his rifle to ruffle Goku's hair. "Hey, hey, hey. You're too young to go into a rampaging vengeance trip, shrimp. Been hanging out with His Highness and got his grumpiness rubbed on you?"
Goku aimed a kick at Gojyo's shins, and he ignored the redhead's string of curses, "None of your business, red cockroach. Just because you're a one-man army doesn't mean I can't pull on your antennae. I want to see Spot."
Gojyo's nose flared at the insult, but begrudgingly raised his hands in a mock surrender. It was no use fighting to a kid, he thought. "Alright, alright, I get your point. Spot is in there, probably pissing, but you know, he might bite back."
Goku huffed and stuck his tongue out at the redhead, who, in turn, lifted the finger at him. Goku entered the room, closed the door, and saw a strange sight—a drafty room dyed in faded blue, calm and silent, with the overwhelming stench of disinfectants wafting around the walls, and the faintest smell of blood hanging in the air. A window was left open to let the cool air in, its flimsy curtains serving little purpose to block the sunlight. In the middle of the room was a hunched figure on the floor, chewing over a modest amount of food on a tray—
"Hey, Kami."
The hunched figure raised his head, and regarded Goku with a blank expression and a faint, mocking smile. "Came to get your revenge, weakling?"
Goku wrinkled his nose, the smell of disinfectant stuck close to Kami's skin. Not yet. He couldn't land a punch yet, not when his questions haven't been answered. "Why are you trying to kill Sanzo?"
At this, Kami sneered, and put down the cup of water he was drinking. His eyes never met Goku's as he spoke, "This question again—I told you, it's because your boss is being a hindrance—"
"To whom are we being a hindrance?" Goku retorted, and mentally took note of the defiant way he said 'we'.
"Your boss is being a hindrance to my boss, and I cannot allow that."
Goku tried to retort, to ask more questions, when Kami wobbly stood up, his gaze focused on his golden eyes, and Goku took a step back on instinct.
"I'd rather die than explain things to the likes of you. The ravens will devour the night, and we'll get back all that he had stolen from us."
And Kami, still bedecked in his bloodied and tattered clothes, jumped from the open window, and Goku yelled for help—
—in the few seconds when Gojyo had entered the room and he and Goku peered over the window, not a trace of blood nor flesh from Kami was seen.
"This is the fucking ninth floor! How the fuck did he escape?" growled a panicked Gojyo, who immediately called for backup in search for the escaped man.
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The morning after, Kinzan Publishing was surrounded by heavily armed guards for the first time since it was built, a sight that was reminiscent of an impenetrable fortress, and Genjo Sanzo, ever the hotheaded man, wanted him dead. In his office, a downtrodden Goku bowed and stood by his side as Sanzo glared at the door.
"'twas my fault. I shouldn't have provoked him," the brunet muttered long after the people inside were dismissed.
"No shit."
Goku flinched.
"I was at fault, too. Should've popped his brains out when I had the fucking chance," Sanzo hissed, hunching over his seat, rubbing his temples. He heard no reply, and he glanced over at Goku, who was biting his lip. "You have something else to say?"
Goku nodded, and his eye twitched as he struggled to form his words, "Before that guy jumped over the window, he… said something about ravens devouring nights…"
Sanzo scoffed, and lit a cigarette to his lips, "So the fucker's into riddles?"
Goku shook his head, his eyes still downcast, "I don't want to say this, but it seems that he has a huge grudge against you, and I don't think it was simply because you fired him anymore."
"Tch. Like I give a fuck about how dramatic he is."
"But Sanzooo—"
"What?"
"I really think we should investigate on this boss of his! He said something about his boss getting really, really pissed at you!"
Sanzo shrugged, "I should celebrate about that, then."
"Sanzo—!"
"President Genjo, President Genjo!"
The door slammed to the wall, knocking over a nearby pile of papers from a folder on top of a file cabinet, and a woman entered the president's office, carrying a mobile to her ear. "A man claiming to be a supervisor of Houtou House wants to meet you!"
She was met with raised, skeptical brows from both the president and his assistant—who was leaning too close to the president—and the woman, sensing the mood, flushed and hastily bowed. "P-pardon my intrusion, sirs! Um, there's a man claiming to be a supervisor from Houtou House waiting for you—"
Sanzo scratched his ear, a snarl curled at the edge of his lips, "Yeah I heard you the first time. Call Gojyo here, then I'll go out. What's his name?"
The woman, taken aback, blinked, "He said his name is not important—" She saw the slightest baring of teeth from the CEO, and she squeaked and stammered out, "But he was insistent, sir! He said he wouldn't leave the premises until the president would meet him. He tried destroying one employee's car earlier while yelling in the streets, that's why..."
Sanzo glanced at Goku, whose expression changed to that of a guarded man, and nodded. The blond sighed, and closed his eyes in exasperation, "Every single fucking damned day of my fucking life, I can't get any fucking peace around here..."
Goku then grinned at Sanzo's scowl, "That's why you have me here, right?"
Sanzo huffed, the markings of an invisible smile apparent in his voice, "You're my number one peace-destroyer, Monkey." He ignored Goku's aghast face and looked at the fearful woman by the door, "Well? Go get that dick-for-brains here, and fix that shit you knocked on the way out."
The woman obeyed the blond's orders, and Goku noted Sanzo fumbling with something in his pockets. Sensing the brunet's eyes on him, Sanzo shrugged, "For emergency."
"That's not your gun," whispered Goku, making sure the fumbling secretary by the door wouldn't hear him.
"Of course it's not," Sanzo patted his pockets one last time, "let's go." And he stood up, with Goku following behind and saying his thanks to the secretary on their way out.
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Outside Kinzan Publishing, a tanned, blond man stood barricaded by four armed men, telling him to stay put until the president arrived, and when he did, the men scattered and made way for the president, his assistant, and his bodyguard.
"I see I've been pestered by bugs lately. Who knew you'd be a supervisor? Or is that another bluff?"
"Not a bluff, I've actually been promoted a month ago," said the blond proudly with a smile, tugging on his navy blue suit with a haughty air and showing off his pearly whites. "But yes, I have business with you, Genjo Sanzo, if that's what you're asking."
Gojyo, idly spectating from the side, let out a low whistle, "Man, you sure are popular, Your Highness."
"Fuck off, undine. I don't need your shit," growled the blond, earning a string of curses from Gojyo, which he ignored. "Well, what do you want, Zakuro?"
Zakuro, the carefree and overlydramatic man, laughed and pointed at Kinzan's president, "I'll have you know, Genjo Sanzo, that I, the great Zakuro, from the esteemed Houtou Publishing House, have caught wind of your dastardly deeds! Never you mind about how I caught you in the act of doing such a tasteless and shameful thing—"
Gojyo leaned over to the unfazed Sanzo and whispered, "The fuck is this guy on? Helium?" to which Sanzo shrugged, commenting that Zakuro's over-the-top antics were normal, and Goku, already on the verge of laughter, had covertly fished out his phone and filmed the wildly gesturing man.
"—such are my methods of acquiring information from rivals of my esteemed company! Really, involving an innocent man in your scheming and miscreant ways of dealing with people leaves me gutted! I'll have you know, that I, the great Zakuro, will never stoop down in the level that you so adamantly take. And you, Genjo Sanzo, are always thinking that you are above others—"
Goku tapped Sanzo on the shoulder, and leaned in to whisper while making sure the camera remained focused on Zakuro, "Hey, Sanzo. I'm hungry."
The purple-eyed man huffed, and muttered, "Wait until this is over. Give it 15 minutes at most. You want Italian today, right?"
"Yup," Goku beamed, and returned his attention to the flambuoyant man still waving his arms about, raising his voice the longer he spoke.
"—I mean, really, using your power to force your will on other people is just inhuman! And using firearms, no less! How pussilanimous."
Goku blinked, and nudged a snorting Gojyo on the elbow and whispered, "Hey, Gojyo. What's... pussilanimous?"
Gojyo shrugged his already shaking shoulders, wiping away tears of mirth pooling from holding in his bursts of laughter. "Beats me. Sounds like a—a disease for the unmanly or something. Are you getting it all on video?"
"Yeah."
"Cool. Send it to me later and I'll show it to Hakkai."
"Sure," Goku chortled.
Zakuro ranted on, and by now, the guards watching him were starting to feel shifty, but Zakuro paid no heed to it as he gestured to a still spiritless Sanzo. "I have here a man, not even hitting his thirties, who had not only used a gun on a former employee of Kinzan, but detained said man who he had given the pink slip to, and, guess what, fellow humans, beat him sensele—urk!"
Zakuro stopped his tirade as Gojyo, now void of any traces of laughter, kicked the man to the ground and calmly rubbed his steel boots on Zakuro's face. "Hey, I dunno where you got that info and shit, but everything is so wrong, it's pathetic. Nice litany, by the way."
Zakuro's eyes rolled to where he tried to take a look at the man who stepped on his face, and grumbled out a noise of complaint.
"You see here, pissface," Sanzo started, feeling his irritation rise at each passing word, "it was the other way around. I didn't use any gun on him. He was targeting me, and he shot my fucking assistant. Now, pray fucking tell, don't tell me that if you were in my shoes, you wouldn't exact double the revenge?" Sanzo felt inside his coat, fingers now reaching for his gun, wanting to aim it at Zakuro's skull—
A hand tugged on Sanzo's sleeve, and violet eyes side-glanced on Goku's slightly shaking head and wide, pleading eyes. The blond huffed and removed his hand from inside his coat, and directed his gaze back to Zakuro's head, still squished under Gojyo's foot. "Get up. We have things to talk about."
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Goku served his boss a plate of the usual green tea rice in his office, along with steamed fish and green tea, and he stood by Sanzo's side, observing him with scrutiny and puckered lips as he idly tapped on the tray that he held close to his chest. Sanzo, sensing Goku's sour mood, sighed. The blond had already told Goku that letting Zakuro go without any punishment would suffice, but the brunet wouldn't have it.
"You let go of that weird man what's-his-face get away," Goku complained once more, and this time, he leaned behind the blond and invaded his personal space, knowing it would irk the man. Sanzo, though, read Goku's actions, and remained nonplussed as he ate.
"He was being a nuisance," he mumbled with a sip of his tea.
"And that's why he needed to be taught a lesson."
"And have me shoot the guy in front of many people? The press will have my head. I'm not that insane yet, Monkey."
Goku looked at the blond sipping his tea with unmasked disbelief at his words, "I stopped you earlier from killing him. You were about to pull the trigger at him."
"It would have been just a warning shot near his head. I wouldn't actually kill him. Yet."
Goku tried to retort once more, but said nothing more after that, and yet Sanzo felt the brunet's cheeks puffing up in suppressed opinions.
"Spill it, your brain will leak from your ears."
Goku took in a deep breath, "Was giving him those tapes necessary, though? He could, you know, tamper with them somehow. And spread mean comments about you to other companies."
"Feh. I already had the original tapes of the shooting incident delivered to the media way before he showed up. The ones I gave him were, of course, mere copies. Plus, the lawyers are already lapping up on the info and doing their jobs just in case shit hits the fan and Godworks would try and retaliate. I made sure he wouldn't get past a legitimate reason to try and tamper with the tapes. If he did, well, he wouldn't be spewing comedic skits in front of publishing houses, would he?" Sanzo smirked, and Goku's shoulders visibly sagged in relief.
"So that's why! Man, I thought you suddenly developed Alzheimer's or something. I thought maybe you're becoming the old man that Gojyo always told me about—gyah! Not the paper!"
"Shut it." Sanzo huffed, and set the newspaper on the desk before finishing his meal. Goku observed him throughout, and the blond noticed him smiling. "What is it this time?"
The brunet laughed, and looked at him with bright eyes, "Nothin'. I'm just glad that bullet got me and not you. I mean, if it were you who got shot, you'd still be in bed right now rolling your ass off and screaming for painkillers."
Sanzo's eyebrows twitched, though the undeniable curl of a suppressed smile slipped through his lips, something that Goku took mental note of. "Like hell I'm that weak."
"Ah, so you do admit you're weak."
"No I didn't."
"Yes you did."
They settled in silence for a few moments, broken only by the idle ticking of the wall clock. Goku waited for the blond to finish his tea, and when he did, Goku placed the empty dishes back on the tray and excused himself, but not before being stopped by Sanzo's hand ruffling his already tousled hair.
"Don't get shot next time."
Goku tried to bite back a grin and failed, "If I did get shot again, will we finally do those things?"
Sanzo's eyes widened, and glowered at the man's cheekiness. Growling, his jaw clenched in reply, "Stop asking me weird questions and do your damn job, Monkey."
Goku stuck his tongue out and exited the office, making sure to sway his hips languidly on the way out, leaving Sanzo to pick up his just scattered thoughts as he buried his face in his hands. And he let out a groan.
"That imp is getting more bold. He better not be strutting like that all the way to his cubicle."
He hummed and stared at the closed door, then at his idle laptop showing a screensaver of glowing lights. He tutted, and fished out a cigarette as he slid his finger along the laptop's touchpad, "Time to dig up more fucking dirt."
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Goku made notes about Kami's identity. His records in Kinzan were suspiciously vague, even his name, at some of his papers, was different—and when he asked Sanzo about the person who hired him, the reply he got was, "He was already here by the time I took over. The hag might know something about him, since she took Kinzan during the time after my foster father's death."
On the day that he decided his wounds were completely healed and he wasn't flinching in pain at midnight anymore, Goku worked up the courage to investigate the mysterious company of Godworks Publishing House that was located three blocks from Kinzan.
He had pestered Sanzo to no end for this mission of his—that pestering included going up to his boss's flat and sneaking into his bed at 4am, demanding nothing but morning kisses. By the time a sleep-deprived Sanzo finally and thoroughly gave in to Goku's energy, the brunet made a run for it and left Sanzo cursing and throwing pillows at his retreating form, but not before giving him a peck on the cheek.
Goku smoothed his thoroughly gelled and slicked back hair one more time, checked his eye contacts on his phone and made sure his currently blue eyes were not showing irritation. He patted the leather attaché case slung on his shoulders, which held a faux manuscript, straightened his suit and tie, and took a deep breath, and he entered the enormous building of Godworks Publishing.
Inside, it looked like any standard company from what he had seen—minimal wall decorations, several potted plants, dull blue walls, shiny, tiled floors that matched the equally shiny ceilings that held too bright of a lighting—Goku compared it to Kinzan, and noted the lack of warmth. Kinzan had a warm atmosphere all around, which was reflected in its warm lighting and interior colors of sunset hues and earth colors. Godworks had none of those.
He ventured towards the reception, where he saw not a receptionist sitting on a chair, but a stuffed toy with the heads of a bunny and a bear. Hanging around the plush toy's neck was a sign, 'Please type the person you are looking for in this company on the monitor to the right.'
"Weird," Goku looked at the blinking monitor to his right, where a search bar was displayed. He looked around, and noticed the complete lack of presence of any person—not even a footman—in the lobby. Chalking it up to the people probably doing their jobs in their respective offices, Goku hovered his fingers on the monitor and typed in the name, 'Kami', and pressed Enter.
"Even just a match would be fine. Even just a match would be fine—eh? No matches found? Gah… What should I do…?" From a distance, he heard chatting and the sound of footsteps. Goku deleted his search on the monitor and hurriedly hid behind the reception counter.
He waited for the people to exit the building through the automatic sliding doors, and he went straight to the stairs, mindful of his surroundings. He already had the outline of the building memorized with Gojyo's help from a few days prior—his fuel served as substituting the floor levels as different foods. His name badge was now around his neck, and he opted to "work" as a newbie in the sales department, where there were many people there from what he had gathered.
Goku trudged up to the fourth floor where the sales department was, picked up his bearings, and walked towards the busy floor, where people were shuffling about, yelling about deadlines and having paper pushers scattering at every cubicle.
"Wah, they're everywhere," he gulped, and made sure to back away from any of the employers running around with piles of papers in their arms. His eyes searched for a familiar face—Kami's, to be exact—and when he found none, he immediately searched for a decent ground cover, which ended up to be the coffee machine, where he immediately fished out a paper cup from the nearby stack of cups and helped himself to drink away his sudden nervousness. He initially thought of this investigation as a piece of cake, but with all these unknown people here, he suddenly felt sick to his stomach—quite unlike him, who had always been used to being surrounded with people.
"Heeey, could anyone help me with this? My hands will fall off."
From nearby, Goku saw a man struggling to open the door with his hands full of folders brimming with papers, and Goku, being Goku, gulped down his bitter coffee in one shot and ran over to open the door for the guy.
"Thanks, man," the stubbly person gleefully said as he blindly hobbled over to a cubicle and dropped the pile on the desk. He returned to a still dumbfounded Goku and patted him on the back. "Gotta say, today's workload is very heavy. You doing all right, kid? You're the new one, right? I see your newbie badge," and he nodded to the name badge around Goku's neck.
Goku blinked upon being questioned, and smiled as he tried to calm his shaking hand with the cup in his hold. "Yeah! I'm Kyuu from sales. I was instructed to deliver a new manuscript to…" Goku fished out a folded paper from his coat pocket and unfolded it, "…someone named Kami. I don't know which department he's in, though."
Goku observed any reaction from the black-haired man with the stubble, and noticed no odd gestures of recognition from the name. The man hummed and looked at everywhere but the boy, his lips pursed in thinking, and then, he patted his fist to his palm. "Ah! Yes, yes, that guy. Blond hair with a childlike attitude, yes?"
Goku didn't know what to reply, and so he vaguely nodded in return.
"Ah, yeah. Him. Figures why I couldn't notice the name—no one knows what his real name is. He has a weird history in this company, you see. No records of him actually working in this place, which is why no one ever knows which part of this building he's in. Last time I checked, he ran inside that bigshot company and attempted to murder Kinzan's president. Gives me the shivers every time. Creepy, huh."
Goku made sure to react at the right time, gasping and shooting his brows up in mock disbelief at what he had heard. A very chatty guy, he noted. "That's… really creepy."
"Yeah. If I were you, I'd just straight-up drop that manuscript in the reception and steer clear from the guy. That reception area's weird. Said it was a thing of Godworks' CEO. Anything that's dropped on that reception area gets delivered to the big man himself—that Kami included. Dunno what his relation is with the heads of this place. Wouldn't know it. Did that guy get arrested? Dunno. I don't want anything to do with a criminal. Say, I haven't introduced myself yet. I'm from the editorial department. The name's Shuuei, nice to meet you." Shuuei held out his calloused hand and Goku took quick notes in his head as he shook Shuuei's hand firmly.
Goku opened his mouth to speak when his phone started vibrating nonstop in his pocket. He ignored it in favor of talking to Shuuei with a forced laugh. "Shuuei, is it. Well, it's been a pleasure to meet ya. Don't let me keep you from work. I'll just make my way around and find Kami, then. Thanks for the heads up." And Goku went away, fishing out his phone and mumbling into it with much glee, from what Shuuei could see as the brunet dashed for the doors with a wide smile.
Shuuei hummed and scratched his head, "Odd kid, he is."
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Outside Godworks, Goku looked around and idly toyed with his phone. A call from Sanzo usually involved three things—the blond needed to know where his things went inside his office, he needed to know where his medication for his hypertension went, or another client screwed up and wanted to make Goku deal with the client. Usually it was a mixture of all three.
He heaved a sigh and waited for whoever it was that Sanzo said would pick him up, and when the time came, Goku was near grumbling. He wanted to remove his contacts now.
"Hey there, sweet cheeks. Want to go for a ride?"
And Goku's response was instant as he turned around—a quick flipping of the finger, along with a string of curses, and probably a kick to the neck. None of his kicks came, however, when he saw Gojyo, riding an inexplicable, sleek, gleaming, black Bugatti Chiron that was now parked behind him, the windows rolled down to show the bodyguard's smug face as he rode in that too expensive vehicle.
He knew only one person who could own such a luxurious hunk of metal.
Before Goku could even retort properly, Gojyo shrugged, "His Highness told me to fetch you in case you did something stupid. I've been going around this building for five times now. Better pay me my gas next time."
Goku flipped him the finger one last time before going over to ride in the passenger seat, and Gojyo drove. "Why would I pay you your gas, you drove around the block on your own. Hell, this car's not even yours!" When Gojyo only smirked at the road, Goku's face paled, he gasped and jumped to the most farfetched reason he could think of. "Oh. Oh. Fuck. You stole Sanzo's car, didn't you? Didn't you?" When Gojyo didn't even say anything in defense, Goku waved his hands about and flipped out, "Oh god. Sweet baby fucking pumpkins, once he finds out about this, he's going to murder you so fucking hard, you're gonna die—"
"The fuck's with that stupid logic, you dumbass?" Gojyo yelled as he glanced at the still blanching assistant. "Sanzo lent me the damn car because he knows damn well I could drive better than he can!"
Goku's thumb paused in speed dialing Sanzo's number and blinked at the redhead, and Goku could only mutter a lone, "Oh. I see. Well… You added the last part on your own, didn't you."
"Yeah," Gojyo chortled, and stuck his thumb to the backseat. "The boss wanted me to give you something to chow on, since he knows you'll be complaining in his office once you—" Gojyo never got to complete his sentence as Goku yelled for joy and automatically reached out to the backseat and took handfuls of the food in bags and ate, leaving a squirming Gojyo when he was offered with only the tuna sandwich and the vegetarian sandwich.
"Do I look like a fucking rabbit? Save me some of the meat ones!"
Goku ignored the redhead in favor of eating the last, meaty sandwich and idly licked the remnants of mustard and tomato juice from his fingers as he looked at the road, and noted a familiar figure leaning on a streetlamp on the coming corner. "Hey, Gojyo. Stop the car."
"Hah? It's just a block away from Kinzan, what are you—" Gojyo stopped when he trailed his eyes to where Goku was pointedly staring at. "Well, what do you know. The punk decided to take an afternoon stroll."
From ahead, they saw the familiar face of the blond they've been hunting down for a while—looking quite meek as he talked to a man decked in a black suit, whose back faced them.
.
Sanzo rearranged his glasses and looked at the papers littered on his desk, and felt a migraine coming on from the sheer amount of it. He had, in his hands, info about this Godworks Publishing, its staff, its management, and a blank slate about its boss. He had heard from Goku earlier on the phone that no regular employee in Godworks knew the face nor the name of their boss, and that was strange.
He mulled over the possibilities of how to get more info about the company when he heard a loud ruckus from outside his office—the loud sound of approaching footsteps, and a familiar, screeching voice that seemed to know and yell only his name.
His office door was flung open, and in came a panting and disheveled Goku, grinning from ear to ear, his impeccable appearance this morning now completely gone as Sanzo observed from the brunet's now normal, wild hair, and glinting, golden eyes. From behind him, a smirking Gojyo held up a pile of folders for Sanzo to inspect.
"Sanzo, Sanzo, Sanzo!" Goku yelled with the same wide grin as he bounded over to the blinking blond behind the desk, cautiously avoiding spilling some of the drinks he had in his hands onto the desk. "Guess what, guess what, guess what!"
Sanzo glowered and thwacked the brunet on the head with a nearby folder. "Calm your shit and speak properly, idiot. I could hear you screaming my name a mile away."
Gojyo snickered as he closed the door behind him, and Goku puffed his cheeks, wanting to argue with the pale man, but thought better of it and grinned again. "We know where he is! Gojyo took some pictures. Spot's been talking to some shady-looking men and exchanging documents with them. Dunno what they are yet. Oh, and guess what—Godworks is a sister company of Houtou. I took a flier from one of their tables on my way out."
"So I see. I don't think it made a difference, though," Sanzo drawled as he took a drag from his cigarette and inspected the flier handed over to him. It featured a moss green, glossy paper, with a logo of a raven's face, its beak wide open, and inside its mouth, a small, and almost unnoticeable little worm. Above the logo was a one-liner slogan written in thin, golden letters: 'Learn from what you thought was nothing.'
Sanzo turned the paper over, and saw nothing else. "Wasn't this logo from Houtou?"
Gojyo huffed as he slammed the folders on Sanzo's desk. "Exactly. It used to be from Houtou until shit took the fan. That is, when Houtou's president died a few years ago and his mistress took over. Apparently, she didn't think much of her lover's possessions and stocks and shares dipped until some guy took over behind the scenes. We'll get more into that. You'd think Godworks would be creative enough to think of a logo of their own, but nah, they thought it would be nice to just recycle. Trashy, if you ask me. And Houtou's logo now is just the same as that, except, instead of green, they used pitch black. Slogan is also almost the same. 'Create a world from nothing.' It's pretty much the same damn thing!"
"And these are…?" Sanzo picked up one folder and looked it over, violet eyes scanning over the unfamiliar names and numerous biodata.
"Houtou's staff, the main ones. Funny how there's no face about their leaders. Jien gave me those, by the way. He used to work there, after all. But he said he had never once saw Houtou's president. All he knew was the president spoke to them through loudspeakers scattered all over the place, using a voice-changing software. A man or a woman? Who knows."
Sanzo hummed, and noticed Goku now slurping on a frappuccino, "Goku, locate where the hag is at the moment. I need to talk to her."
With a salute and a noisy slurp of his drink, Goku bounded off and opened the door, going over to his cubicle. Gojyo, meanwhile, raised his eyebrow at the passive blond.
"And me, Your Highness? What do I get to do?"
Sanzo looked up from the papers and regarded his bodyguard with an offhanded, "Go play fetch or something, and send me those pictures to my mail," and waved him off.
Gojyo flipped him the finger and muttered insults to the smirking blond as he exited the office.
Sanzo flipped over biodata over biodata, trying to read something of importance. At one point, he mulled over why he was poring over info about a company that had no relation to him when he could be doing his actual work of supervising his employees, and he realized, as he glanced at Goku's form through the glass windows—
"I don't want another life to die on my hands…"
And he resumed looking over the documents, until he found a familiar face upon the piles of biodata with faceless people—
"…Father?"