Part V: Water
"Wood, Earth and Metal can all be shaped and arranged according to our desires. Fire can be created or extinguished at our whims. But Water is always Water. Boil it into steam, and it recondenses; freeze it and it melts again. You can dam it, mix it, separate it into tiny glasses and drink it, but in the end Water will once again return to itself."
Gojyo had over the course of his teenage years picked up a fair knowledge of street fighting, and combined with his demonic strength it was usually enough to get him out of trouble with the local toughs he tended to run afoul of. After seeing the old doctor perform his morning forms, he was more than willing to learn the man's techniques. What he wasn't prepared for was the speed at which he learned.
Goyjo had always known he wasn't the smartest guy around; he was barely literate, and his idea of thoughtful conversations generally revolved around the mystery of women and the current house odds, assisted with copious amounts of alcohol. But the moment Dr. Yang dropped a sword into his hand, he understood the blade. His hands automatically shifted to the correct grip, his body snapped into the perfect opening stance. It was not so much a lesson as a refamiliarization. No matter what weapon Yang handed him, within hours Gojyo had mastered it. It puzzled the doctor, and was beginning to scare Goyjo.
"I've got a little experiment for you to try today, if you don't mind Gojyo." Dr. Yang said. "You've been here almost five months now, and I'm curious to see how far we can press this... ability of yours."
Gojyo looked up from the dripping coffee pot (his pot, since neither Yang or Hakkai indulged) and gave a face splitting yawn. "What'd ya have in mind, doc? Not running Goku around the yard again? I've still got bruises from that last fight. Kid does not know how to pull his punches."
"No, one of my son's friends is a very good swordsman, and I've asked for him to come and have a match with you. He accepted, and has time this morning, so he should be here in about half an hour."
"Half hour! Doc that's barely enough time to get the morning kinks out!" Gojyo's hand went to rub the thick scar tissue that ripped across his right shoulder.
"Indeed, and your enemies will always be so courteous as to let you warm up first?" Came the response from the doorway. A middle-aged man in an impeccably tailored uniform paused there, and gave Yang a polite bow.
Gojyo was certain that his eyes had just about bugged out of his head, and silently thanked Hakkai's thoughtfulness at coming up with the idea of tinted lenses that not only corrected the vision in his damaged eye, but subtly altered the damning blood red color of a half-breed to a more acceptable mahogany hue. Half-breeds were technically forbidden to exist, and flaunting that status in front of a man like this who might actually know the signs was a very bad idea. "Yang, are you senile? You want me to tango with an Imperial Guardsman? 'Very good swordsman' my ass! Let me guess, this is actually going to be a lesson for Hakkai in emergency triage, isn't it?"
Yang only gave Gojyo an amused smile, and shooed his student towards the practice yard. "I'd say don't be too hard on the boy, Shang, but I really do need to know what he's truly capable of achieving."
Gojyo had barely picked up one of the long swords when the Guardsman struck. For nearly two minutes, it was all Gojyo could do to defend himself against the furious assault as Shang mercilessly drove him from one end of the yard to the other. Twice Shang drew blood, the cuts were shallow, but the one on his left arm was beginning to affect his grip. In the third minute of battle, Gojyo had finally found the rhythm of the other man's style, though he was still unable to shift from defense to offence. His right shoulder was screaming from the stress, too tight muscles and tendons twitching erratically and he had to shift to an entirely one-handed grip.
Shang had been waiting for that, and with an odd flip and twist of his blade, he had wrenched Gojyo's sword out of his blood-slicked left hand. "Damnit, the bastard isn't even breathing hard!" Gojyo thought as he started scrambling backwards for the lost sword. The Guardsman wasn't going to let Gojyo retrieve the weapon easily, and a series of lunges had the half-demon rolling frantically away. "He's playing with me," Gojyo thought. "He's just fuckin' playing with me." A small curl of anger unraveled in his belly, and his vision began to pull into sharp focus. His hand closed around a familiar hilt and he launched himself forward as his opponent faltered for a single moment.
Everything faded away as he lashed out at his enemy in the timeless dance of blood and steel. He vaguely felt something tear in his shoulder, but that was unimportant right now. Someone was shouting, he couldn't make out the words but he didn't need to listen, not with his foe in front of him, being hammered back blow after blow.
"GOYJO STOP!" There was someone in front of him, a hand striking out at high speed to grip his wrist, deep green eyes locking with his. He wavered under the gaze.
"Tenpou?" No… wait… that was wrong. Tenpou was dead… right? Who was Tenpou?
"Look at me. Tell me my name."
For a moment he was confused. Too many names were coming at him, he wasn't sure who he was, let alone this person. "I…" his head hurt, he couldn't think.
"Gojyo, tell me my name." The voice was insistent, worming into his head. But if he was Gojyo, then this had to be…
"Hakkai. I'm OK now." Gojyo came down off his adrenaline rush, and staggered in Hakkai's grip. "Well, maybe not OK. I feel like shit." Suddenly sitting down seemed like a very good idea. His shoulder began to burn, and one of his knees didn't seem to want to work well anymore.
Yang was leading Shang back inside; the Guardsman was staring in disbelief at Gojyo. "How did he, what did he… where did he get that?! Who is he?" A trembling hand was pointing towards Gojyo's left side. Curious, Gojyo looked down, and blinked.
The sword in his hand was not the one he'd started with. It was nearly a foot longer, and the design was one he'd never seen before. It had only a single edge, but the curve on it was slight, unlike the scimitar designs that Yang kept. The cross guard was missing; instead a narrow ring marked the change of blade to hilt. Fine etching snaked down the length of the blade, enhancing the watered steel with the suggestion of waves. "It's… it's mine." Gojyo said shakily, allowing Hakkai to lead him inside. "I think it's always been mine."
Kanzeon Bousatsu looked up from hir newspaper as a soft clap of air echoed through hir chambers. Looking over at the mantle where various knickknacks had been stored, the Merciful Goddess spotted what was missing. "So, Kenren finally reclaimed his sword, did he? About damned time."
"Water is inexorable, you cannot stop the tide, only build a wall. And it will eventually tear down the wall. Place a barrier in its path and it will seek ways around it, anger it and it rages with the force of a deadly typhoon. It is also friendly and accomodating, and can ease travel as quickly as it can hinder." Yang finished folding the black paper and pulled out a stick. Carefully he affixed all five colors to the stick with the pin, and set the pinwheel spinning in the late winter breeze. "I think my granddaughter ought to be pleased with this, isn't it lovely when they all work together?"
Final Note: Done with the ficlets! Gojyo's ran a little long, and I really pared down that fight scene. Originally Fire was supposed to be a piece with Hakuryuu, but Kou gave me a little nudge and said, hey I'm Fire too! Sanzo's piece was the opening to Hakuryuu's story, and I think I'm going to try and set it down as a seperate piece. Yes, Gojyo will not be using Shakujou in this AU, as I wanted to connect his fighting skills back to his past as Kenren. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and hopefully with this finished I can hammer some more on that last, very stubborn chaper of MI!
"Wood, Earth and Metal can all be shaped and arranged according to our desires. Fire can be created or extinguished at our whims. But Water is always Water. Boil it into steam, and it recondenses; freeze it and it melts again. You can dam it, mix it, separate it into tiny glasses and drink it, but in the end Water will once again return to itself."
Gojyo had over the course of his teenage years picked up a fair knowledge of street fighting, and combined with his demonic strength it was usually enough to get him out of trouble with the local toughs he tended to run afoul of. After seeing the old doctor perform his morning forms, he was more than willing to learn the man's techniques. What he wasn't prepared for was the speed at which he learned.
Goyjo had always known he wasn't the smartest guy around; he was barely literate, and his idea of thoughtful conversations generally revolved around the mystery of women and the current house odds, assisted with copious amounts of alcohol. But the moment Dr. Yang dropped a sword into his hand, he understood the blade. His hands automatically shifted to the correct grip, his body snapped into the perfect opening stance. It was not so much a lesson as a refamiliarization. No matter what weapon Yang handed him, within hours Gojyo had mastered it. It puzzled the doctor, and was beginning to scare Goyjo.
"I've got a little experiment for you to try today, if you don't mind Gojyo." Dr. Yang said. "You've been here almost five months now, and I'm curious to see how far we can press this... ability of yours."
Gojyo looked up from the dripping coffee pot (his pot, since neither Yang or Hakkai indulged) and gave a face splitting yawn. "What'd ya have in mind, doc? Not running Goku around the yard again? I've still got bruises from that last fight. Kid does not know how to pull his punches."
"No, one of my son's friends is a very good swordsman, and I've asked for him to come and have a match with you. He accepted, and has time this morning, so he should be here in about half an hour."
"Half hour! Doc that's barely enough time to get the morning kinks out!" Gojyo's hand went to rub the thick scar tissue that ripped across his right shoulder.
"Indeed, and your enemies will always be so courteous as to let you warm up first?" Came the response from the doorway. A middle-aged man in an impeccably tailored uniform paused there, and gave Yang a polite bow.
Gojyo was certain that his eyes had just about bugged out of his head, and silently thanked Hakkai's thoughtfulness at coming up with the idea of tinted lenses that not only corrected the vision in his damaged eye, but subtly altered the damning blood red color of a half-breed to a more acceptable mahogany hue. Half-breeds were technically forbidden to exist, and flaunting that status in front of a man like this who might actually know the signs was a very bad idea. "Yang, are you senile? You want me to tango with an Imperial Guardsman? 'Very good swordsman' my ass! Let me guess, this is actually going to be a lesson for Hakkai in emergency triage, isn't it?"
Yang only gave Gojyo an amused smile, and shooed his student towards the practice yard. "I'd say don't be too hard on the boy, Shang, but I really do need to know what he's truly capable of achieving."
Gojyo had barely picked up one of the long swords when the Guardsman struck. For nearly two minutes, it was all Gojyo could do to defend himself against the furious assault as Shang mercilessly drove him from one end of the yard to the other. Twice Shang drew blood, the cuts were shallow, but the one on his left arm was beginning to affect his grip. In the third minute of battle, Gojyo had finally found the rhythm of the other man's style, though he was still unable to shift from defense to offence. His right shoulder was screaming from the stress, too tight muscles and tendons twitching erratically and he had to shift to an entirely one-handed grip.
Shang had been waiting for that, and with an odd flip and twist of his blade, he had wrenched Gojyo's sword out of his blood-slicked left hand. "Damnit, the bastard isn't even breathing hard!" Gojyo thought as he started scrambling backwards for the lost sword. The Guardsman wasn't going to let Gojyo retrieve the weapon easily, and a series of lunges had the half-demon rolling frantically away. "He's playing with me," Gojyo thought. "He's just fuckin' playing with me." A small curl of anger unraveled in his belly, and his vision began to pull into sharp focus. His hand closed around a familiar hilt and he launched himself forward as his opponent faltered for a single moment.
Everything faded away as he lashed out at his enemy in the timeless dance of blood and steel. He vaguely felt something tear in his shoulder, but that was unimportant right now. Someone was shouting, he couldn't make out the words but he didn't need to listen, not with his foe in front of him, being hammered back blow after blow.
"GOYJO STOP!" There was someone in front of him, a hand striking out at high speed to grip his wrist, deep green eyes locking with his. He wavered under the gaze.
"Tenpou?" No… wait… that was wrong. Tenpou was dead… right? Who was Tenpou?
"Look at me. Tell me my name."
For a moment he was confused. Too many names were coming at him, he wasn't sure who he was, let alone this person. "I…" his head hurt, he couldn't think.
"Gojyo, tell me my name." The voice was insistent, worming into his head. But if he was Gojyo, then this had to be…
"Hakkai. I'm OK now." Gojyo came down off his adrenaline rush, and staggered in Hakkai's grip. "Well, maybe not OK. I feel like shit." Suddenly sitting down seemed like a very good idea. His shoulder began to burn, and one of his knees didn't seem to want to work well anymore.
Yang was leading Shang back inside; the Guardsman was staring in disbelief at Gojyo. "How did he, what did he… where did he get that?! Who is he?" A trembling hand was pointing towards Gojyo's left side. Curious, Gojyo looked down, and blinked.
The sword in his hand was not the one he'd started with. It was nearly a foot longer, and the design was one he'd never seen before. It had only a single edge, but the curve on it was slight, unlike the scimitar designs that Yang kept. The cross guard was missing; instead a narrow ring marked the change of blade to hilt. Fine etching snaked down the length of the blade, enhancing the watered steel with the suggestion of waves. "It's… it's mine." Gojyo said shakily, allowing Hakkai to lead him inside. "I think it's always been mine."
Kanzeon Bousatsu looked up from hir newspaper as a soft clap of air echoed through hir chambers. Looking over at the mantle where various knickknacks had been stored, the Merciful Goddess spotted what was missing. "So, Kenren finally reclaimed his sword, did he? About damned time."
"Water is inexorable, you cannot stop the tide, only build a wall. And it will eventually tear down the wall. Place a barrier in its path and it will seek ways around it, anger it and it rages with the force of a deadly typhoon. It is also friendly and accomodating, and can ease travel as quickly as it can hinder." Yang finished folding the black paper and pulled out a stick. Carefully he affixed all five colors to the stick with the pin, and set the pinwheel spinning in the late winter breeze. "I think my granddaughter ought to be pleased with this, isn't it lovely when they all work together?"
Final Note: Done with the ficlets! Gojyo's ran a little long, and I really pared down that fight scene. Originally Fire was supposed to be a piece with Hakuryuu, but Kou gave me a little nudge and said, hey I'm Fire too! Sanzo's piece was the opening to Hakuryuu's story, and I think I'm going to try and set it down as a seperate piece. Yes, Gojyo will not be using Shakujou in this AU, as I wanted to connect his fighting skills back to his past as Kenren. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and hopefully with this finished I can hammer some more on that last, very stubborn chaper of MI!