Thrusting

No, no...you're letting your leg shift too far to the inside. Now watch me." Tenpou emulated the movement, returning smoothly and looking back to his 'student'. "You see how that forces my arms away from my body for balance?"

"Yeah."

"It doesn't look like much, but that's going to leave you wide open."

Pulling his arm in tight, Tenpou held up his sword, turning it to that the blade was edge-on in front of his face. Gojyo marvelled at the way it seemed melt, lightning-quick, to a near-invisible division between Tenpou's eyes. "It's a small thing, a sword; designed for swift death in close quarters." The sound of metal in motion sent a shiver down Gojyo's spine as Tenpou moved; the word lethal was surely meant for that sound. "If you're close enough to kill with this weapon, you're already dead." He fixed Gojyo with a cold stare, his own intimacy with death borne out in his eyes. "You must carve a path to life."

Gojyo swallowed hard, nodding as he regained his stance. He pressed forward, trying to blend his body with the weapon, careful to keep himself aligned, this time. Pulling back, he looked at Tenpou for assessment. Violet eyes (they should have been green) looked back as the kami nodded.

"Much better. Again."

Setting his jaw, Gojyo tried to centre himself, to focus on the task at hand. Hakkai wouldn't have approved, he knew, but that didn't matter anymore.

Tenpou's existence made this necessary.

Virtue

"I don't understand what you see in the guy."

"He's a good man. A little rough around the edges, perhaps."

"Rough around the edges, all right, and about as smooth as sandpaper everywhere else."

"Ahahaha."

"Seriously, he's a walking ball of vice."

"I see. Shall I get you a clean ashtray? There's more sake heating, too."

"Ch. Whatever."

"Really, it's not as bad as all that. He's got a big heart."

"Yeah, big enough for anything with a heartbeat."

"He allowed me into his home, without a second thought."

"He would have had to have a first thought, in order to have a second."

"He's been supporting me without complaint."

"You're proud of being kept?"

"It's not like that."

"Hmph. Even if it isn't...he's a hustler. Not exactly the most innocent guy around."

"...said the priest with a gun."

"Ch."

"It's always nice to have a good conversation, isn't it?"

Tease

Ukoku watched Koumyou move around the room, the routine familiar, though they didn't frequently share it. He'd been away for what felt like a long time, though in truth it hadn't really been more than usual. Koumyou's long braid swung across his back in the lamplight as he settled things for the night, and Ukoku grinned behind him.

It was much easier than he had imagined.

The little tie that held the end of Koumyou's braid slipped free and into Ukoku's hand; Ukoku's grin widened as Koumyou whipped around, fixing him with a reproving Look.

"Really, Ukoku."

"Hmm?"

Koumyou held out his hand for the tie, which Ukoku held up between his fingers, one eyebrow quirking up in challenge as he took a step back. "That's not terribly mature, you know," Koumyou chided quietly, though the corners of his lips curved upward just a little.

"Feeling your age?" Ukoku returned, waving the tie slightly, a current of laughter under his words.

Koumyou heaved a long-suffering sigh as he stepped toward Ukoku. "Well, one of us should, don't you think?"

Chuckling quietly, Ukoku stepped back again, his smile a blatant invitation. Which Koumyou took, closing the distance between them quickly, practically smirking when the bed caught at the back of Ukoku's legs and the young man fell the short distance to the mattress. Ukoku watched avidly as Koumyou climbed slowly onto the bed, knees on either side of Ukoku's thighs. Leaning over him, Koumyou braced himself on one hand, his hair slipping from his shoulders to fall in long curtains around them.

"Have you achieved your objective, then?" he asked, as Ukoku combed his fingers into soft blond tresses.

"Oh, yes," Ukoku breathed, just before Kouymou covered his mouth with a kiss.

Trust

Ukoku Sanzo was a genius. This much was widely known and entirely understood, even if his penchant for reveling in it prickled at those under his influence. He was brilliant and strong, a force in himself and wholly, unfathomably odd.

Ukoku was all these things and more, so much more than anyone had ever seen, save one.

Confident and sure, there still came the nights that disturbed even Ukoku. Those dark times when he knew that he was young and small, and he raged that it should be so. He was a child with abolute weapons and nothing inside, searching for an end that moved with the horizon. Frightened by all that he was, burdened by all that he was not, Ukoku spent the endless, unmeasurable hours between dusk and dawn with eyes wide open but unseeing. Unless...

Unless he could turn, nestling deeper into Koumyou's warm embrace, held tight and safe against the night from within while gentle hands stroked his skin and a familiar, soothing voice carried him with words that would never see the light of day.

Changeling

He had been at his erstwhile 'residence' with his pet, when a runner came from the temple with the news. Scrawling something on a piece of parchment, he gave the runner hushed instructions and a few coins, pressed surreptitiously into his palm. He didn't bother to check for supplies or send the boy away before he disappeared, briefly laying his hand on the blond head as he walked out the door.

Ukoku could never tell, afterward, how many days he spent sleeping on the forest floor, how many nights he passed under an overcast sky, without even the company of the moon. No fire, no food, only what water he scooped from the streams and the oppressive silence of the world, forever altered around him. The very air was unbalanced, and he thought he could taste the iron edge of blood when he breathed.

When the clouds cleared, the moon was full. He laughed for a long time when he saw it, the sound pealing through the hushed wood, echoing back to him from somewhere far away.

All right then, Koumyou. You win this round.

He walked into the village the next morning before returning to the house where he had left the boy. The kid wisely stood aside, watching with large grey eyes as Ukoku swept through, heading directly for his room. An hour later he emerged, freshly bathed, shaven and clothed head to toe in his sanzo garb.

This time, his robes were black.