Disclaimer: Characters of Gensoumaden Saiyuki belong to Minekura Kazuya and whatever publishing company she currently is with.
Chapter 2: The Shrew of Soda Met meets the Man-About-Town
"I'm hungry again, Ma'am!"
The plaintive cry rang loud in the mansion the leading merchant of the city. This was promptly followed by a resounding rain of thwacks - the sound of sandalwood fan meeting a hard skull. The barrage was interrupted a cracking sound. A muttered curse ensued as the owner of the fan stared at the split blades. [1]
"Mistress Sanzo! Stop hitting your sister with the fan! This is the 4th you've broken today!" Jiroshin hurried from where he had been supervising the kitchen staff to the drawing room. Oh busy busy! Being the head housekeeper to Kanon-sama was certainly a stressful job indeed. Add those two brats to the main job description… and you have it. A bottomless pit that begged to be filled every 15 minutes and an edgy damsel who responded to everything and more with physical violence.
"My stomach is sticking to my backside!" Goku whined as she tugged piteously at Jiroshin's sleeve. "And she spoiled my hairdo for the dinner!" The petulant girl (yeah Homura's _sweet_ Goku) pointed an accusing finger to a sour-looking girl, who had resumed burying her tawny head in the newspaper. A billow of smoke ascended from the day's headlines.
"All right, young mistress, I'll get your snack [2] served right away, and I'll order the maid to do your hair after that," Jiroshin said placatingly. He added before he turned away: "And you, Mistress Sanzo, stop reading that scandalous tabloid and smoking without a cigarette holder. It's most unbecoming of a high-born lady." He heard a grunt from the paper and sighed as he headed for the kitchen. Years of serving the family had prepared him for being ignored by the tyrant of the house. Why do I even bother?
"I ___ " Goku begun again, and clamped his mouth shut as she found herself staring at the muzzle of a revolver. Her mouth dried up at the click of the chamber turning…
"Shut up. I'll tell you one thing for free: These bullets are not the blanks that sissy trainer insisted that I used for practice…" A pair of violent violet eyes gazed menacingly at her. Goku felt like she was going to lose control of her sphincter anytime. She knew what had happened to that "sissy trainer". It was still the talk of the town. The poor man would never instruct anyone in target shooting, or any kind of art after this. He would be too busy learning how to clean up after himself with his newly rearranged limbs.
So Goku wised up and clamed up. Sanzo was stormier than usual today, probably due to the news that Homura (yes, my gallant Homura) would be bringing up another (another! You would think that they would have known better than to even think about it.) suitor who hoped to court the town shrew. Yes, Goku knew what they called his sister. Shrew. A few years later Sanzo would graduate to "that old maid", and Goku would follow her soon, too, if their father could not be persuaded to change his mind about the matter. Oh Father! Why can't I marry my Homura first?
[1] Paper fans were not in vogue in Soda Met "long, long time ago". Medieval ladies of fashion in Soda Met preferred the ornate sandalwood variety instead.
[2] The family always fed Goku before dinner, especially when guests were expected (as on that day). To further ensure that she did not embarrass one of the leading families of Soda Met, she was further drugged with belladonna (which made her luscious round eyes even rounder and shinier than ever). These measures proved to be effective. However, nobody ever found out whether it was the drug, or the fact that Goku had actually been truly satiated through the "pre-dinner" feeding. (Is that even remotely possible?)
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"Sha Gojyo, man ___" he was about to finish with "about town", when Homura elbowed him discreetly.
"Ehem… manager. Inn manager. Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," Gojyo bowed slightly towards the imposing figure seated at the head of the table. Kanon-sama nodded sagely, his passive countenance only broken by a small smile which showed that perhaps, just perhaps, he had caught on to what the suave, lanky guest before him had meant to say. Perhaps the suave, lanky man's aura proclaimed to the world what he was as plainly as if the words "prodigal, good-for-nothing" were branded across his forehead. Never mind that. Prodigal or otherwise, I would be glad to unload that girl to any man brave or fool enough to take her. Just take her.
"Let's dispense with all the pleasantry, shall we," Kanon-sama cut in Homura's attempts at small talk. Looking directly at Gojyo, he said: "I understand that you intend to pay court to my elder daughter."
"That's right, sir," the redhead answered, returning the older man's stare with equanimity. The unwavering crimson eyes gazed back at him. Kanon-sama was impressed. Flicking his long luxuriant hair back, he barked out a candid laugh.
"I like you, lad. That is why I am going to be frank with you, though I suppose my elder daughter's reputation would have reached your ears already."
A wide, roguish grin greeted him. "Yes it has," came the answer from the smiling mouth. Kanon-sama, taken aback momentarily by the candor, finally decided on the soft sell. After all, as he had said, he liked the man. If the lad still insisted on Sanzo's hand after this, Kanon-sama guessed that he would have no better son-in-law indeed, considering the quality of the merchandise at hand. [3] Putting all niceties away (meaning he would not even bother to couch his words in delicate terms from now on), Kanon-sama begun:
"She fights like a hellcat."
"Ho! She would be well able to defend her own honor and the household then." A highly composed answer. "Besides, a man would be fortunate indeed to have his own personal sparring partner. I am a fan of street-brawls and the WWF, myself."
"She has the cutting tongue of a harpy."
"I am partially deaf from my late stepmother's nagging anyway."
"She smokes like a chimney."
"Really? Me too. Excellent! I wouldn't have a nagging woman who complains of the smell of tobacco all the time then. Besides, we can share. Does she smoke the same brand?"
Kanon-sama was feeling unreal by then. This is too good to be true. The catch? Then he realized it. There had to be a catch. There always is one. He had a good idea what it would turn out to be. Nevertheless, he went on. Because this was making him feel so good. He had never felt this good since the girls' mother went to the bazaar in the sky many years ago.
"… excessively fond of her revolver…"
"… I didn't seek to marry a lady who likes to play the damsel in distress all the time."
"… never good with household management…"
"… Can be house-broken, er, house-trained."
"… claims that she hears voices…"
"… Inspired. Does she paint? Write? Compose?"
"… lapses into moody silences on rainy days…"
"… We can cuddle and just listen to the rain all day long. Wouldn't that be romantic?"
Kanon-sama decided to stop just then. "All right, how much are you asking for her?"
The young man swept his hair back from his face, took a pack of cigarettes from Homura's hand, and seized a stick with his lips.
"The dowry?" He asked with cigarette still clenched between lips as he bent over the light proffered by Homura (who had managed to stay awake through the umpteenth meet-the-parent interview). Kanon-sama nodded silently.
"Here are my terms," Gojyo said, blowing a gush of smoke at the maid who was setting the table for dinner and winking playfully at her at the same time. Oh, my Sanzo is not the only one needing some taming here. I am beginning to think that they might deserve, no, suit, each other. To the tee. Kanon-sama listened as Gojyo stated his "terms", [4] as he called them. Five minutes later, all had been settled between them. Kanon-sama caught himself in time before he actually started to say "Nice doing business with you" as they shook hands. Instead, he said: "The only problem now is getting her to agree to marry you."
"Oh, leave it to me, sir. That would be no problem, no problem at all," the rogue replied flightily.
"We'll see about that," Kanon-sama said, and called out to the maid. "When you are done, please request the two mistresses to come down to dinner."
"Yes sir."
A few moments later, Gojyo looked up from his place at the table, at the rustle of silk from the top of the staircase. Ruby met violet for the first time as Sanzo flashed her suitor-eating scowl at the dunce who had the gall to ask for her hand. She frowned when the stranger did not flinch, hell, he did not even blink in the fusillade of her spite. All of the previous ones had started to look like they had peed in their pants by this point. What went wrong? She thought as she stumped (most unlady-like) down the stairs. Just who is this brute? Why, the brute even had the audacity to smile, no, to actually leer at her. Insolently. No man had dared to leer at her before. None. Okay, make it none alive. That redhead is one dead man, Sanzo vowed as she took her seat in ominous silence, her glare never leaving the impudent man.
Forgotten by all (who were watching the odd pair) except by Goku (who had bounced happily right into him), Homura shuddered, and thought: At this moment, Sha Gojyo and Genjo Sanzo meet. [5]
The battle had begun.
[3] Being a trader, Kanon-sama definitely could not shake away his bourgeoisie outlook. In this matter, he could only think of Sanzo as merchandise with limited shell-life. A merchant who is unable to unload expiring goods soon enough is certainly not a good businessman.
[4] Settlement with the loan-sharks from Chapter 1, a house, a lifetime supply of cigarettes and condoms (for both items, brands of Gojyo's choice, of course), a minor portion of the family business, and needless to say, a satisfactory lump sum of hard cold cash, c--a--s--h.
[5] A take at the anime! When angsty Homura commented on the meeting between Konzen and Goku. Haha.
A/R:
Do you like it? Hate it? Rambling? Yes, I ramble. A lot. When I don't ramble, I rant. I have been told that I even rant in sleep. Figures.
Reviews and flames are humbly accepted, with thanks for both and love for the former.
Reviewers: My appreciationsTooboe luvs Tsume: Eto… we'll never who gets on top of whom until the very end. This is rated PG-13, so none of the straddling stuff we always see in the manga/anime.
Ali: I know I am so busted.^.^ That's why this fic was unleashed upon the unsuspecting world in the first place, after the sars thing. I would like to personally apologize to old Willy for it but guess it would be sometime before we meet.
Triple X: Er, is it the scream of pain or delight? Hopefully, I have managed to inflict both?
UltraM2000: No, no, I have something special for Hakkai. He is my fav (way after a certain B-type Scorpion, of course). I've read ur fics too ~ they gave me a good insight into Hakkai. Style? I have none of my own. The sarcasm is from Mr King of the Carrie and Dreamcatcher fame, the penchant for footnotes is from Mr R.A. Wilson of the Illuminatus fame.