by: |-|. /\/\4U\/3C|_0u|)
Usual Disclaimer: Characters of Gensoumaden Saiyuki belong to Minekura Kazuya.
Special Disclaimer = Warnings:
1 - LeetSpeak
2 - Get off if yu0 is not 1337 enough (if you don't know what that means, you are not, get off NOW), or,
3 - If you hate n00bs who rampantly abuse numeric characters and symbols to show the world how 1337 and what |\|0-|_!f3|2s they are - GET OUT NOW!
Well, if you're still here… read at your own risk.
(Note: translations of the LeetSpeaks are at the end of the story. If you get there intact.)
It all started like any other day on the road.
"Hara hetta!" Goku cried like he would on any other day.
"We should reach the next town soon," Hakkai tried to placate Goku like he would on any other day on the road.
"Eat this," Gojyo handed Goku a packet of unidentified object like he would play a trick on the boy on any other day.
"Ei? Thank you." Packet was grabbed eagerly from Gojyo's hand.
The echoes of Goku's protests could be heard miles away as he discovered that he had just swallowed two days worth of Gojyo's cigarette ash. It was possible that it was his resounding complains that had attracted the horde of youkais that had appeared out of nowhere in the twisting hilly road, but that was a moot point. Whatever would happen, came to happen. And the consequence was something the Sanzo-ikkou would never have thought of in a million reincarnations.
"Mealtime, monkey," Gojyo goaded his backseat companion into action, hoping to save his own energy for more productive activities in the evening (hopefully, if they managed to reach town before sunset). His hopes were dashed as the supply of youkais did not seem to dwindle, even with both Hakkai and the monk chipping in. Hakkai turned back to Gojyo as a ball of ki formed in his hand. As his friend fried one charging youkai with the blazing sphere of light, Gojyo shrugged, and sighing with resignation, joined in the battle. One never disobeyed that look from Hakkai, he had learnt from his years with that man.
He first noticed something odd about the youkais when the blade of his weapon impaled one particularly ferocious specimen of the group. His dying cry was clear, not garbled with blood rushing to his throat. Yet, Gojyo could not understand a single word the creature was trying to say. To him, it approximated to: "\/\/3 \/\/!LL |\|07 |33 0\/\/|\|3|) |3`/ `/0|_| |_4|\/|3|2Z! |_0|\|6 |_!|=3 70 73|-| |_337Z!!!!!" Aside for being too lengthy for a dying person, the speech made sense to Gojyo as much as the squiggles on Sanzo's sutra.
The odd-sounding language fascinated him so much that he never noticed the splatter of blood from his victim spurting onto his own face. He heard a rustle behind him, and turned, his reflex guiding the chain of the shakujou towards a group of three youkais, who were going for Sanzo's unguarded back. More blood. He caught a look of murderous irritation from the monk, who was within spraying distance when the three youkais had been pulverized. Oh, we should expect gratitude only where it should be expected, Gojyo reminded himself. You can't draw water from a blind wall.
By the time the last breathing member of the ambush had been reduced to cinders by Hakkai's blast of ki, the sun was already starting to slide sulkily down behind the distant mountains, as if it was offended by the carnage before it. The fading rays of the slighted sun seemed to emphasize the splats of crimsons on the foursome's garments and faces. There was only silence as the four travelers faced each other, each taking in the sight of his companions - the caked blood, the fatigue expression, the unkempt hair.
"Let's go," Sanzo, as befit his undisputed status as the leader of the expedition, broke the silence.
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The town dwellers greeted the foursome with wary looks as they took in the strangers' grimy appearance. As the four of them started to step into a building that looked like the only inn in the town, a middle-aged man ran up to them, shouting frantically: "Wait, please!"
As they turned back towards the shouter, the man halted suddenly, and seemed to take a hasty step backwards, as if repulsed by something in them.
Gojyo fought back the urge to sniff at himself. Do we smell that bad?
Hakkai smiled sagely. It must the sight of the blood.
Hakuryuu "kyuu"-ed once and went very quiet.
A vein appeared on Sanzo's forehead. I don't stink! I wash that leather underwear of mine at least once a month!
Goku's face registered a blank expression. …
"Yes?" Hakkai, as befit his position as the undisputed Public Relations Man of the group, asked pleasantly.
"You… you can't enter without cleaning yourself up first. In fact, you are not supposed to enter this town at all… but by the time we received the news, it was too late to stop you."
"What news?" Gojyo asked impatiently. They were all tired and sticky from the blasted fight, and he wanted to get himself a nice hot bath and a good dinner before moving on for the night's productive activities.
"You guys fought a group of youkais just outside this town, didn't you?" asked the man, who looked more like a leader of the town-dwellers now that he had calmed down. However, it was obvious that he was still trying hard to keep a decent distance from them, just on this side of the shouting distance.
"Aaa," Sanzo growled his brand of the affirmative to the man's question.
"Did you, by any chance, get to hear them speak?"
"Some mangled words__" Hakkai's answer was cut off as the man, having the town's worst fears confirmed, started to gesture in a frenzied manner.
"Go clean yourself and whatever you are wearing right now at the river you passed just before you came in this town. And make sure you stay at the downstream side too."
The man was flabbergasted as five pairs of eyes stared blankly back at him.
"Now. Else I can assure you that no inn, restaurant, bar, pleasure house or any other establishments in this town will serve you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Geez, what a nagging geezer that old man was," Gojyo grumbled as he picked up his semi-wet clothes from their place near the fire. "I bet someone is going to grow to be just like him in old age," he added under his breath as he took in Hakkai's conversation with Goku, who was being told not to splash water at Hakuryuu, even in play.
"What did you say, Gojyo?" the remnant of the evening sunlight was reflected on the monocle as Hakkai lifted his head towards Gojyo.
"Nothing. Nothing," the red-haired man replied as he slipped into his jacket, lowering his gaze to avoid the dangerous hint in Hakkai's wider-than-usual smile.
"Hmmph," the monk grunted as he, too, retrieved his own garments. Whether the grunt was born from displeasure at the current sad state of his half-dried priestly garments, or from gleeful delight at Gojyo's discomfort, no one could tell.
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And so the Sanzo-ikkou passed an otherwise uneventful night in the unnamed town. Except for one glitch: Gojyo's "night activities" had been far from productive, as he had not been able to find a single babe willing to join him in those activities. Even the oldest, cheapest pro in town had been unwilling to accommodate him. He finally gave up in disgust and was heading back towards the inn when a conversation among several unseen women from the balcony above him caught his ears:
"They had the Leet youkai's blood all over them, that's what I heard."
"Eeeeee! Do you think they'll get it?"
Giggles.
"Not sure, Mai-chan. Nobody knows exactly how much blood it takes to change a human into a Leet."
"But it certainly takes less than a thousand youkais, like in the legend."
A snort.
"Legend, pshaaaaw! A thousand is for ordinary youkais. We're talking Leets here. Even normal youkais had been affected."
"Well, the town headsman says they were still talking normal when he spoke to them earlier."
"Saaa, who knows how long it'll be before it starts to show up. Let's just pray they'll long be gone before that happens."
Back at the inn, through the mutual exchange of information that is also termed the pillow-talk (afforded by the refusal of the natives to oblige him), Gojyo had gleaned from Hakkai that the other three had also overheard about the same thing from the kitchen maids, the garbage disposal men and the janitors.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two days later:
The morning started like any other day on the road.
"|-|4r4 |-|3tt4!" Goku cried like he would on any other day.
"\/\/3 5h0u|_|) |2e4(|-|…" Hakkai's attempt to placate Goku petered out as a horrible realization dawned on him - they had been infected by the l33tSpeak plague!
"()h |\/|y G0|)!" Gojyo shrieked. "\/\/3 4r3 s74|2t!n6 t0 5o|_|Nd _|us7 t|-|3m! Th!5 suX0r5!!!"
"|_||2|_|53][! |)0 `/0|_| |=|_|3|25 \/\/4|\|7 70 |)][3 7|-|/-\7 |\/||_|(|-|?" Apparently, Sanzo was even worse off than the other three. At least their vocabulary still included some normal alphabets, while his now purely contained characters from the upper (and some right-hand side) keys of the standard English keyboard. The average fanfic writers would now have to brush up on their typing skills and SHIFT-key dexterity more than ever.
Leet or no |_337, the journey had to go on. Only, poor Kougaiji and his minions would have a hard time understanding their opponents' demands: "5t0|D 7h3 |23s5|_|r3c7!0|\| 0r |=/-\c3 t|-|e (0n53&|_|e|\|c3s35… |33 |*R3p4|23|) 70 |3E 0\/\/|\|E|) B`/ |_|5 `/u0 5u|2s!" Or, more frighteningly, at that future, Kougaiji might even be answering: "411 `/u0r |345e /-\r3 |3e|_0n6 7u |_|5! w007!!!!!1!!!1!!"
Translations:
1 - Dying youkai to Gojyo: "We will not be owned by you lamerZ! Long life to the LeetZ!"
2 - Goku: "Hara hetta!"
3 - Hakkai: "We should reach…"
4 - Gojyo: "Oh my God! We are starting to sound just like them! This sucks!"
5 - Sanzo: "Urusei! Do you fuckers want to die that much?"
6 - Demands: "Stop the resurrection or face the consequences… Be prepared to be owned by us you suckers! "
7 - Kougaiji: I'm not even going to translate this one. Gamers have been known to get thrown off servers just because of it.
|_3|\/|e 3|\||)!n6… 0r 70 |33 (0|\|7!|\|u3D???
Aaaaaaarrrrrgggghhhhh!!!!!!
Will the Sanzo-ikkou be cured of the plague that is the LeetSpeak?
Is this another of Nii's devious machinations?
Will an MS masquerading as a bishonen hacker or a script-kiddie or a gamer with no life come to their rescue?
… Or will they end up this way forever?
Find out the ending… by writing one yourself, because the fingers of the original author of this lame fic had been traumatized beyond salvation. She will never touched any of the upper keys of the standard English keyboard, ever again.
And thank God for small mercies.