thenearshore | [closed]

Who: Cho Hakkai and Ukoku Sanzo
What: Shinki and god heart-to-heart, now that Sharak has spilled the beans about who Ukoku really is and how dangerous he can be... not that, of course, Hakkai is all that concerned.
When: Late evening June 5
Where: Mahakala's temple
Warnings: With these two? Probably some creepy flirting, intimations of murder, will update if anything specific comes up.

[It's late -- after midnight, Hakkai suspects, from his own exhaustion and the fact that even the most determined sparkler-wavers had finally gotten bored and gone home. For once, and rather to his surprise, disaster had failed to materialize.

At least, general disaster had failed, and he doesn't think the fish wound up drowning anyone for fun; what a disappointingly quiet evening.

He brushes as much sand as he can off himself before heading for the little nearby temple. Its azalea bushes are blooming vigorously, perfuming the air over the seaside tang until Hakkai steps through the gate. He lingers, one hand on the red-painted wood, as the azaleas dissolve around him and the cicadas and traffic noise fade to the peaceful silence of a night in the Far Shore.

It's always a little eerie.

He heads off at a brisk walk, wondering if Ni -- Ukoku, that is -- happens to still be awake. He may make himself a cup of tea for bedtime regardless, but it would be interesting to see what the Sanzo says, if Hakkai admits he knows who he really is.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Ukoku is very much awake, sitting on his front porch, shrouded comfortably in the new-moon darkness. He spent most of the day at two different universities, picking up equipment for his experiment on abandoned temples. He wore a tie in case anyone noticed him breaking into storage rooms. It's since devolved into a loose, messy affectation, as his ties usually do. He has a bottle of expensive sake for company—the kind no one would really waste on drinking alone—and two cups, for some reason. One sits unused by a pillar a few feet away from him.

He looks up with mild interest at Hakkai's approach. ]

I wouldn't have taken you for the late-night type.

[Ukoku, on the other hand, does seem like the late night type, so while Hakkai is pleased to see him still up he's not entirely surprised. He pauses a few steps from the porch, and offers a polite little bow.

The extra cup is a little strange. Is he expecting a visitor? Isn't Yuri a little young to drink?]

Time must have gotten away from me! The Heavens were hosting another party.

[A smile flickers across his face, polite, but sharp-edged.]

I'm pleased to say this one ended without violence.

[ Ukoku returns that edge with blithe humor, but it hints at the same thing. ]

Glad to hear it! That would've been unlucky. Are you turning in?

[ He motions, inquisitive, to the extra cup. If not… ]

I suppose they prefer to keep us guessing... [Hakkai pauses at the invitation, and glances from the cup back to Ukoku's face. Well.

He could use a drink.]

Not just yet. I did hear something interesting this afternoon....

... But weren't you expecting company?

Was I?

[ He raises his eyebrows, lips quirked, inviting whatever mildly scandalous thing Hakkai might have intimated—but he gestures to the empty sky instead of waiting. ]

I thought the moon might want some, since he's not working tonight, but nobody's come by. It must be for you.

[ He sets the cup by the edge of the porch and pours for Hakkai. ]

[Hakkai's glance follows Ukoku's gesture, up to the sky, and lingers there for a long moment. There's no moon tonight, but the stars glitter cold and bright above them.

Finally, he looks down again, and picks up the cup, cradling it on the palm of his hand as he sits on the edge of the porch.]

Then thank you. I'll accept.

[And, in a tone of mild curiosity:] Were you planning to mention you were a Sanzo priest?

[ He doesn't miss a beat, and his reply is pleasant and unsurprised. ]

I don't usually. [ He pauses, sips his sake, and settles comfortably against a pillar, smiling at Hakkai. ] But you've brought it up, so you must have questions, yeah? I'll do my best to answer them.

[Hakkai casts a veiled glance at Ukoku, amusement glinting in his eye, before taking a sip from his own cup. He raises his eyebrows in polite appreciation.]

My, you're drinking the good stuff.

-- Let's see! What spell did you cast on Gojyo, exactly?

[He hadn't gone into any detail, other than that it had happened; and he hadn't seemed to take any particular harm from it, either, that Hakkai could detect.

Hakkai's still curious. His tone stays mild and cheerful, and, at least for now, there's no hidden fear or anger behind it to leak across the shinki bond. It's not as if Ukoku has tricked him into anything, after all. As he told Sharak, he'd gone into this of his own free will, and knowing that Ni Jeni is Ukoku Sanzo makes no difference to any of the reasons he'd made the choice.

It might even make some of them more compelling.]

[ It might be interesting, in this case, to be entirely truthful—to see what Hakkai would do.

Unproductive, though, probably. ]

A test. The idea was to put something on him that would let me know he still existed—or still lived, maybe I should say. At the time, I was kind of interested in trying to reverse-engineer the process that brought us here. In theory, that would have required something like a tether—in case it didn't work, you know? I didn't get that far. My objective with him was to sort of recreate part of the connection that a god and a shinki have, that lets me know you're alive and not in trouble. I didn't want to involve my shinki, and couldn't involve anyone else's, and he was willing.

[ He swallows the rest—and youkai are ideal; they're more resilient—with his sake. ]

[Hakkai sets his cup down on his knee, looking up at the moonless sky as he fights down a surge of dark, unreasoning rage.]

Is that true?

[It's not even that shocking of an admission. A 'tether' doesn't sound too potentially dangerous, and Ukoku's said before that he doesn't like to involve Guy in anything that might bring him to the negative attention of the Heavens. Experimenting with trying to send him home certainly would do that.

Experimenting with trying to send gods away, though -- if that is true, if he'd been moving towards doing that with Gojyo, and hadn't bothered to say anything about it to Hakkai over the last week....

... then he's going to have to be a little upset.]

[ He feels it, of course. He can't tell whether it's the shinki connection or just a palpable change in Hakkai's energy, but it's a little exciting. Ukoku gives no sign that he's noticed anything—he's not even looking at Hakkai, and he stays slouched against the pillar—but he sets down his sake, calmly, and starts to roll up his sleeves. ]

Yeah. There were some complications—nothing dangerous, but it was annoying for him—so he came to have me take it off him, which I guess was kind of unlucky, all things considered.

I see.

[The surface of the sake in his half-empty cup shivers, and he looks down at it as though surprised before lifting it and throwing back the last mouthful of liquid. Fury still burns in him, just under his skin. It's almost startling how powerful it is.

He'd thought he had been coping a little better than that, he muses, and crosses his legs, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand. And breathes.

Ukoku must be feeling his anger; it's too strong to hide, and he knows it, even if he's keeping it off his face and, just barely, out of his voice.]

Incidentally, that's the sort of thing you should tell me.

[ Ukoku answers with a noncommittal hm. ]

Well, I'll remember that. I've gotten used to keeping things to myself.

[ He looks at Hakkai, smiling a friendly little token smile, hands folded idly on his thigh, outwardly lazy. There's a mild challenge in all of it, an unspoken go ahead, do it. ]

It's all right for you to be angry with me, you know. We're equals.

[Maybe it's the challenge in that casually direct stare. Maybe -- although Hakkai would like to believe he's not that petty -- it's just the patronizing overtone of Ukoku offering him permission to be angry.

Or, and this he doesn't let himself think, it's the way that "we're equals" startles him with its reminder of Elsa. Elsa, who he had let himself trust and lost first, and who Ukoku is not.

Whatever it is that snaps the thin thread of Hakkai's forbearance, he blurs into motion, one clawed hand going for Ukoku's throat, not to tear flesh but just to twist in the fabric of his shirt and lift him off his feet as Hakkai stands. He doesn't even notice the delicate sake cup shattering under his leg as he rolls up to his feet.]

[closed]

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