Reunion: Saiyuki gen, Koumyou and Jikaku
May. 16th, 2013 09:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lady_ganeshNot quite sure where this came from, but the world needed Koumyou and Jikaku hanging out. Set between the (presumed) end of Ibun and Ukoku's Burial arc. Thanks to lindentreeisle for looking it over.
Wu's was pleasant, not too far from the temple, and it was always good to go somewhere they knew you. One of the girls leaned heavily on him. "Hi, Jikaku. Do you want your usual?"
He squeezed her waist. She was new, he couldn't remember her name, but she was very pretty and laughed at all his jokes; the girls said she was supporting a little sister, so he tried to tip her well. "Two of them," he said, "my friend's meeting me here."
"Oh," she said, "The monk? He's already here. I think he's on his third glass."
Indeed, Koumyou was well on his way to drunk when Jikaku found him out on the terrace, knocking back another cup of sake with his cheerful, vacant grin. There was another, empty cup by the bottle, presumably for Jikaku himself.
"Koumyou!" Jikaku called.
"Everyone knows you here," Koumyou said happily, tipping sake into Jikaku’s cup. "It's nice."
Jikaku had kind of missed Koumyou. Not too much -- there was still a lot of Houmei left in the man -- but it was still a pleasure to see Koumyou's pretty face again. His perspective on life was always surprising. And Jikaku had questions to ask.
"They tell me you're a father now," he said, as he slid onto the bench across from Koumyou.
Koumyou shrugged. "Maybe? Father's kind of a heavy word."
"But you have a child?"
"His name is Kouryuu," Koumyou said, and there was a light in his eyes that Jikaku had never seen before. "You should see him! He's got the lightest hair, like sunlight or straw. All his fingers and toes. And if he looks at you, he really looks, like he's taking note of everything you say."
Jikaku chuckled. "You're having fun."
"Most of the time." Koumyou tipped back his cup of sake. "Not the diapers, though." He stuck his tongue out. "Terrible."
Jikaku tried, but he couldn't picture Koumyou changing a diaper. He could picture the horrified looks on the other monks' faces easily enough, though. He smirked at the thought.
The girl - Sun? Shu? Shan? Probably Shan - came with two steaming bowls of noodles. Koumyou all but squealed with delight. "Jikaku," he said. "You've always picked the best places."
Jikaku nodded, watching Shan walk away. "The food is good, too."
Koumyou chuckled, low down in his throat. "So predictable."
They ate in silence for a bit, Jikaku watching the waitresses come and go, Koumyou distracted by a group of children playing ball beyond the terrace. The ball slipped out of one boy's hands, and the children thundered after it in a herd.
"It'll be a difficult life," Jikaku said. "He'll have no place to call home, no friends to speak of."
"I know," Koumyou said thoughtfully, taking another generous drink of sake. "I'm asking a lot of him."
"So why do it? Why not give him to a childless couple, if he's as perfect as you say?"
Koumyou shook his head. "I'm afraid I couldn't."
Jikaku waited for Koumyou to explain. The children ran by again. So much energy; Jikaku envied that.
"It's like that dog," Koumyou said, nodding at a black-and-tan puppy that had been following one of the young girls as they played. "You know it's going to be a big dog because it has such big paws."
Jikaku followed Koumyou's gaze. The little mutt did have monstrous paws. "And?"
"That baby," Koumyou said, "has the paws of a tiger."
That changed things. Koumyou had always been able to see what others couldn't, even back in the days he was smart-assed student. "I see," Jikaku said. "Will he have a tiger's claws?"
Koumyou's mouth rose, just a bit. "That depends, doesn't it?"
Koumyou pretended not to care about responsibility or duty, but he had two sutras resting on his shoulders. Jikaku wondered just what kind of tiger little Kouryuu was.
They talked more as they ate, about Jikaku's temple, about the absurd quarrels that monks could reduce themselves to when the days grew long and tensions ran high, about the care and feeding of a small demanding infant. When they finally finished drinking, the sun was beginning to sink, and Jikaku had to get back for evening prayers. He'd probably be late but the monks should be used to that by now.
"It's good to see you," he told Koumyou, honestly. "You'll have to visit again. I'd like to meet that tiger of yours someday."
Koumyou grinned. "You will," he said. "I'm sure of it."
lindentreeisle for looking it over.Wu's was pleasant, not too far from the temple, and it was always good to go somewhere they knew you. One of the girls leaned heavily on him. "Hi, Jikaku. Do you want your usual?"
He squeezed her waist. She was new, he couldn't remember her name, but she was very pretty and laughed at all his jokes; the girls said she was supporting a little sister, so he tried to tip her well. "Two of them," he said, "my friend's meeting me here."
"Oh," she said, "The monk? He's already here. I think he's on his third glass."
Indeed, Koumyou was well on his way to drunk when Jikaku found him out on the terrace, knocking back another cup of sake with his cheerful, vacant grin. There was another, empty cup by the bottle, presumably for Jikaku himself.
"Koumyou!" Jikaku called.
"Everyone knows you here," Koumyou said happily, tipping sake into Jikaku’s cup. "It's nice."
Jikaku had kind of missed Koumyou. Not too much -- there was still a lot of Houmei left in the man -- but it was still a pleasure to see Koumyou's pretty face again. His perspective on life was always surprising. And Jikaku had questions to ask.
"They tell me you're a father now," he said, as he slid onto the bench across from Koumyou.
Koumyou shrugged. "Maybe? Father's kind of a heavy word."
"But you have a child?"
"His name is Kouryuu," Koumyou said, and there was a light in his eyes that Jikaku had never seen before. "You should see him! He's got the lightest hair, like sunlight or straw. All his fingers and toes. And if he looks at you, he really looks, like he's taking note of everything you say."
Jikaku chuckled. "You're having fun."
"Most of the time." Koumyou tipped back his cup of sake. "Not the diapers, though." He stuck his tongue out. "Terrible."
Jikaku tried, but he couldn't picture Koumyou changing a diaper. He could picture the horrified looks on the other monks' faces easily enough, though. He smirked at the thought.
The girl - Sun? Shu? Shan? Probably Shan - came with two steaming bowls of noodles. Koumyou all but squealed with delight. "Jikaku," he said. "You've always picked the best places."
Jikaku nodded, watching Shan walk away. "The food is good, too."
Koumyou chuckled, low down in his throat. "So predictable."
They ate in silence for a bit, Jikaku watching the waitresses come and go, Koumyou distracted by a group of children playing ball beyond the terrace. The ball slipped out of one boy's hands, and the children thundered after it in a herd.
"It'll be a difficult life," Jikaku said. "He'll have no place to call home, no friends to speak of."
"I know," Koumyou said thoughtfully, taking another generous drink of sake. "I'm asking a lot of him."
"So why do it? Why not give him to a childless couple, if he's as perfect as you say?"
Koumyou shook his head. "I'm afraid I couldn't."
Jikaku waited for Koumyou to explain. The children ran by again. So much energy; Jikaku envied that.
"It's like that dog," Koumyou said, nodding at a black-and-tan puppy that had been following one of the young girls as they played. "You know it's going to be a big dog because it has such big paws."
Jikaku followed Koumyou's gaze. The little mutt did have monstrous paws. "And?"
"That baby," Koumyou said, "has the paws of a tiger."
That changed things. Koumyou had always been able to see what others couldn't, even back in the days he was smart-assed student. "I see," Jikaku said. "Will he have a tiger's claws?"
Koumyou's mouth rose, just a bit. "That depends, doesn't it?"
Koumyou pretended not to care about responsibility or duty, but he had two sutras resting on his shoulders. Jikaku wondered just what kind of tiger little Kouryuu was.
They talked more as they ate, about Jikaku's temple, about the absurd quarrels that monks could reduce themselves to when the days grew long and tensions ran high, about the care and feeding of a small demanding infant. When they finally finished drinking, the sun was beginning to sink, and Jikaku had to get back for evening prayers. He'd probably be late but the monks should be used to that by now.
"It's good to see you," he told Koumyou, honestly. "You'll have to visit again. I'd like to meet that tiger of yours someday."
Koumyou grinned. "You will," he said. "I'm sure of it."
