Fic: Persistence Pt.4 (Saiyuki, R)
Title: Persistence
Chapter Title: Graduation
Fandom: Saiyuki
Characters: Ukoku/Hakkai
Prompt: Table 1/Prompt 4/"narrow it down"
Words: 1624
Rating: R
Warnings: creepiness, het incest
Summary: Ukoku's big reveal!
Notes: Inspired by the physical resemblance between Ukoku and Hakkai. Here are parts one, two, and three.
++
You were in a white, spartan meeting room, sitting at a square polyurethane. The thud from the heavy door introduced a young man in a brown suit.
"Well, hello there." It was Ukoku. His face was fresher, smoother, though you recognized the presence.
"Ukoku."
"At this point I was Ken'yuu." He sat at the other end of the table. Adjusted the lapels, even clicked his tongue. "Go ahead and make a mental note. More information for that investigation into my weaknesses." He nodded. "Maybe you'll grade me to death."
"No more prodding into my past?"
"More narcissism. Well, goes with the territory."
There was an accreditation which recognized the authority of the institution hung on the wall. "You were a student here."
"Wow." He put his feet up on the table. "What else can you tell me, oh tactician?"
"You were an unusually young student. Probably a prodigy."
"I prefer driven. But go on."
"Most gifted students who succeed have support. Probably parental in your case. An intellectual family?"
He tented his fingers. Narrowed his eyes. "Somewhat."
"Spoiled rich boy? Looking for approval from demanding parents."
"Oh, Hakkai. You were doing so well, then you up and disappoint me with the psychobable." He sat up, checked his watch. "It's just as well. Time's almost up." Almost up? For what? "You're about to get an education."
The sky appeared. Hundreds of students in caps and gowns were standing behind you. An audience of proud parents watched. And you? You were naming each student, handing them degrees one by one, shaking their hands. Then there was the last name on the list. The valedictorian.
That name--
You blinked. This had to be another trick, like Gojyo, like Kanan.
"Ah..." The microphone's feedback echoed throughout the campus. No. That couldn't be right. You would've rather choked than put those two names together, but something inside goaded you on. "Cho Ken'yuu."
He looked so pleased with himself. So smug as he walked down the steps and took the degree. Shook your hand.
There was a great ovation. Parents stood up and cheered. Then came forward.
And you saw them.
There was a family of three: a toddler, a little girl with the sweetest face (no!) held a man whose expression was hidden by glasses. So tall. The man was just as tall as you. And the woman, the woman...
She was hugging Ukoku. "Oh, son! I am so proud!"
Her face. You knew that face.
She was your mother.
++
"You know it's true."
You were back in the meeting room, sitting at the table again. This time he was holding the Muten scripture, tied in a bow like a degree, under his arm. "You can feel it."
You could see the resemblance, now. It was as if a veil had been removed. The same long face, the same tall, thin gate. Even that nose- the same chiseled nose on your own face!- it was all there.
"They were well to do. Not powerful, though. The old man didn't have a taste for that. More studious than anything. Though a tad, ah, tempermental. He was hardly aware that he had a son. And as for her..." He shrugged. "She was so sweet." The way he said it made your skin crawl. "Surely you remember?"
You kept fidgeting, an old habit those damned nuns in the boys home had beaten out of you long ago: foot tapping, thumb twiddling. You took a deep breath. Focused yourself amd stopped it. "This changes nothing." Except now you knew he possibly had similar physical problems which plagued your human form: rheumatism, shortsightedness, seasonal allergies...
He gave you a look. "No. Not yet. This isn't supposed to be a family reunion, brother."
He was still guarding himself. "What else is there?"
"Oh, a couple of things..." He got up. He held out his hand. When you refused he cocked his head to the side. "Too soon, I suppose?"
You were standing in a sunflower field. Vaguely, you recalled this place. "You were born here. In this village. About..." He rubbed his chin. "About nine months from this point." He snickered when you gave him a look. "Would you like to take a walk? It's a pleasant walk. I took them often enough."
And somehow you two were walking down a path surrounded by tall, tall sunflowers. The sun beams flitted through petals as stalks swayed. He lit a cigarette. "My father owned this land. He owned most of the undeveloped property around here. Hired out farmers for the sunflowers. Seeds and whatnot. A real country gentleman. Preferred university life. As did our mother. But unlike our mother he was distant and somewhat nasty when that distance was threatened. Dad was really married to the Physics Chair." You noticed his choice of words. "Yes, Hakkai. Our mother. But he's my father, not yours."
"So mother was unfaithful."
He smiled. "Mother was beautiful. Didn't you see? And given to emotion." He glanced at you. "You take after her, in many ways you know. Same green eyes, er, eye. Same smile. Same, well, nearly the same body type." He laughed. "Oh, if you were only female, Hakkai. You would have been incredible."
You stopped at a yellow Victorian three story. African violets hung on porch awnings swung in the breeze. He chucked the cigarette on the lawn. "And here we are." His robes rustled as he hopped up the steps. Then disappeared. He was young again, wearing corduroys and an argyle sweater. "How do I look?" He got too close to your face. Smiled.
"Disturbing."
"Be more original, will you?"
"No."
He pushed the door open with his back. "Welcome home, little brother."
It was...
"The usual bourgeois stuff. European furniture in the living room. French doors lead into a dining room. Six bedrooms. Four baths." He tapped a Tiffany lamp and shrugged.
It was beautiful.
You only remembered, barely remembered, the little blue house on the hill. This understated opulence was nearly a polar opposite.
"That little house was after the divorce. Dad was... not generous with the terms. The only reason he didn't keep you was because he couldn't stand, well, your existence." He sat in the large, cushioned anwar near the fireplace. "Please, by all means." He rolled his eyes as you continued to stand. "Sit down."
You were, somehow, seated.
"Am I to see my real father? Perhaps even the scene of my conception?"
"The scene of my conception? Yes. This is when mommy got knocked up."
You wished you could just kill him on the spot. He saluted, knowing what you were thinking. "Careful. Wouldn't want to screw things up now, would we?"
Then it happened. She came in through the French doors like a dream. Sunlight streamed behind her summer dress and kissed her hair. She really was beautiful, you thought ruefully. Your memory did her no justice. Like Kanan, but so graceful when she rushed toward Ukoku. When she pressed herself into his arms, like a flower.
A sunflower.
"He isn't here." He, who? Her husband? Her lover? "Ken'yuu--"
"Shhh." He put a finger to her lips.
She took it down, clasped his hands to her heart. You looked around, wondering when your proported father would turn up. But there was no one else. You could sense that much. "He was so angry when he left."
"He's a bastard. How many times do I have to tell you," He caressed her cheek. "You deserve so much better."
"But it's not right. You're my child."
"Who could love you more?"
The wind blew hard against the home, practically shaking it. And you sat there, rooted to the spot as he bent his head, and he...
As she...
And you realized...
...you realized.
++
"And there's more!"
You were in that holding cell, chained and gagged, just as you were the night Gonou "died." you struggled this time, though. You knew it was no good, but you did it anyway. He leaned up against the dank black wall. Crossed his arms.
"How existential. The struggle against one's circumstances and all that. Quite like life. I almost envy you at this moment, Hakkai. Gonou. You are human at the moment, so Gonou is more apt. But I digress. Besides having the dubious honor of being both your brother and father, no small feat I might add, given the challenge it is to seduce one's own mother, there is one more tiny detail need to mention." He leaned in close. Rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand and studied your face. "I suppose it's only natural that you are so much like her, given that 75% of your genes are hers. Did I mention how disappointed I am that you're male?"
You glared.
"Oh, don't get your boxers in a bunch. I'm not interested in you that way. I am interested in something else, you see. I want something of yours. Something that used to be mine."
This was it. You looked him in the eye and readied yourself. Something in you knew this was essential to your very self- more than the accident of your birth.
"Ah, you know already. Or should I say, your very core knows. This is why I seem so familiar, right? Beyond family. Beyond blood. This is an elemental connection."
He rubbed a chain link between his fingers. Smiled. "I didn't sleep with her just to indulge some incestuous curiosity. See, I was taking this correspondence class on Buddhist technique. Sutras, mantras, metaphysics. Now, religion was a much bigger taboo than incest. The old man kept it away from us, and the secret thrill of learning these things was more exciting than the topics themselves. Ah, and then I realized I could do so much more if I just didn't care about other people. But it was difficult."
"Buddhism taught you that sleeping with her solved this problem? That's irrational."
"Oh, would it ever kill you to give me some credit? I did say there is more to it. Now, I wanted to see if a particular technique could help me with my problem. And so I used it during your (very planned) conception. I must tell you, losing all that neediness was an incredible relief. Better than the orgasm. But, over time I have found it only compounds my boredom."
"Are you saying I have your conscience?"
"Conscience? What? That's a misplaced idea. No, my dear, dear boy. You have something much more than that..." He pressed your head into his shoulder. Ruffled your hair. "You have half my soul. And it's time to give it back."
Chapter Title: Graduation
Fandom: Saiyuki
Characters: Ukoku/Hakkai
Prompt: Table 1/Prompt 4/"narrow it down"
Words: 1624
Rating: R
Warnings: creepiness, het incest
Summary: Ukoku's big reveal!
Notes: Inspired by the physical resemblance between Ukoku and Hakkai. Here are parts one, two, and three.
++
You were in a white, spartan meeting room, sitting at a square polyurethane. The thud from the heavy door introduced a young man in a brown suit.
"Well, hello there." It was Ukoku. His face was fresher, smoother, though you recognized the presence.
"Ukoku."
"At this point I was Ken'yuu." He sat at the other end of the table. Adjusted the lapels, even clicked his tongue. "Go ahead and make a mental note. More information for that investigation into my weaknesses." He nodded. "Maybe you'll grade me to death."
"No more prodding into my past?"
"More narcissism. Well, goes with the territory."
There was an accreditation which recognized the authority of the institution hung on the wall. "You were a student here."
"Wow." He put his feet up on the table. "What else can you tell me, oh tactician?"
"You were an unusually young student. Probably a prodigy."
"I prefer driven. But go on."
"Most gifted students who succeed have support. Probably parental in your case. An intellectual family?"
He tented his fingers. Narrowed his eyes. "Somewhat."
"Spoiled rich boy? Looking for approval from demanding parents."
"Oh, Hakkai. You were doing so well, then you up and disappoint me with the psychobable." He sat up, checked his watch. "It's just as well. Time's almost up." Almost up? For what? "You're about to get an education."
The sky appeared. Hundreds of students in caps and gowns were standing behind you. An audience of proud parents watched. And you? You were naming each student, handing them degrees one by one, shaking their hands. Then there was the last name on the list. The valedictorian.
That name--
You blinked. This had to be another trick, like Gojyo, like Kanan.
"Ah..." The microphone's feedback echoed throughout the campus. No. That couldn't be right. You would've rather choked than put those two names together, but something inside goaded you on. "Cho Ken'yuu."
He looked so pleased with himself. So smug as he walked down the steps and took the degree. Shook your hand.
There was a great ovation. Parents stood up and cheered. Then came forward.
And you saw them.
There was a family of three: a toddler, a little girl with the sweetest face (no!) held a man whose expression was hidden by glasses. So tall. The man was just as tall as you. And the woman, the woman...
She was hugging Ukoku. "Oh, son! I am so proud!"
Her face. You knew that face.
She was your mother.
++
"You know it's true."
You were back in the meeting room, sitting at the table again. This time he was holding the Muten scripture, tied in a bow like a degree, under his arm. "You can feel it."
You could see the resemblance, now. It was as if a veil had been removed. The same long face, the same tall, thin gate. Even that nose- the same chiseled nose on your own face!- it was all there.
"They were well to do. Not powerful, though. The old man didn't have a taste for that. More studious than anything. Though a tad, ah, tempermental. He was hardly aware that he had a son. And as for her..." He shrugged. "She was so sweet." The way he said it made your skin crawl. "Surely you remember?"
You kept fidgeting, an old habit those damned nuns in the boys home had beaten out of you long ago: foot tapping, thumb twiddling. You took a deep breath. Focused yourself amd stopped it. "This changes nothing." Except now you knew he possibly had similar physical problems which plagued your human form: rheumatism, shortsightedness, seasonal allergies...
He gave you a look. "No. Not yet. This isn't supposed to be a family reunion, brother."
He was still guarding himself. "What else is there?"
"Oh, a couple of things..." He got up. He held out his hand. When you refused he cocked his head to the side. "Too soon, I suppose?"
You were standing in a sunflower field. Vaguely, you recalled this place. "You were born here. In this village. About..." He rubbed his chin. "About nine months from this point." He snickered when you gave him a look. "Would you like to take a walk? It's a pleasant walk. I took them often enough."
And somehow you two were walking down a path surrounded by tall, tall sunflowers. The sun beams flitted through petals as stalks swayed. He lit a cigarette. "My father owned this land. He owned most of the undeveloped property around here. Hired out farmers for the sunflowers. Seeds and whatnot. A real country gentleman. Preferred university life. As did our mother. But unlike our mother he was distant and somewhat nasty when that distance was threatened. Dad was really married to the Physics Chair." You noticed his choice of words. "Yes, Hakkai. Our mother. But he's my father, not yours."
"So mother was unfaithful."
He smiled. "Mother was beautiful. Didn't you see? And given to emotion." He glanced at you. "You take after her, in many ways you know. Same green eyes, er, eye. Same smile. Same, well, nearly the same body type." He laughed. "Oh, if you were only female, Hakkai. You would have been incredible."
You stopped at a yellow Victorian three story. African violets hung on porch awnings swung in the breeze. He chucked the cigarette on the lawn. "And here we are." His robes rustled as he hopped up the steps. Then disappeared. He was young again, wearing corduroys and an argyle sweater. "How do I look?" He got too close to your face. Smiled.
"Disturbing."
"Be more original, will you?"
"No."
He pushed the door open with his back. "Welcome home, little brother."
It was...
"The usual bourgeois stuff. European furniture in the living room. French doors lead into a dining room. Six bedrooms. Four baths." He tapped a Tiffany lamp and shrugged.
It was beautiful.
You only remembered, barely remembered, the little blue house on the hill. This understated opulence was nearly a polar opposite.
"That little house was after the divorce. Dad was... not generous with the terms. The only reason he didn't keep you was because he couldn't stand, well, your existence." He sat in the large, cushioned anwar near the fireplace. "Please, by all means." He rolled his eyes as you continued to stand. "Sit down."
You were, somehow, seated.
"Am I to see my real father? Perhaps even the scene of my conception?"
"The scene of my conception? Yes. This is when mommy got knocked up."
You wished you could just kill him on the spot. He saluted, knowing what you were thinking. "Careful. Wouldn't want to screw things up now, would we?"
Then it happened. She came in through the French doors like a dream. Sunlight streamed behind her summer dress and kissed her hair. She really was beautiful, you thought ruefully. Your memory did her no justice. Like Kanan, but so graceful when she rushed toward Ukoku. When she pressed herself into his arms, like a flower.
A sunflower.
"He isn't here." He, who? Her husband? Her lover? "Ken'yuu--"
"Shhh." He put a finger to her lips.
She took it down, clasped his hands to her heart. You looked around, wondering when your proported father would turn up. But there was no one else. You could sense that much. "He was so angry when he left."
"He's a bastard. How many times do I have to tell you," He caressed her cheek. "You deserve so much better."
"But it's not right. You're my child."
"Who could love you more?"
The wind blew hard against the home, practically shaking it. And you sat there, rooted to the spot as he bent his head, and he...
As she...
And you realized...
...you realized.
++
"And there's more!"
You were in that holding cell, chained and gagged, just as you were the night Gonou "died." you struggled this time, though. You knew it was no good, but you did it anyway. He leaned up against the dank black wall. Crossed his arms.
"How existential. The struggle against one's circumstances and all that. Quite like life. I almost envy you at this moment, Hakkai. Gonou. You are human at the moment, so Gonou is more apt. But I digress. Besides having the dubious honor of being both your brother and father, no small feat I might add, given the challenge it is to seduce one's own mother, there is one more tiny detail need to mention." He leaned in close. Rubbed your cheek with the back of his hand and studied your face. "I suppose it's only natural that you are so much like her, given that 75% of your genes are hers. Did I mention how disappointed I am that you're male?"
You glared.
"Oh, don't get your boxers in a bunch. I'm not interested in you that way. I am interested in something else, you see. I want something of yours. Something that used to be mine."
This was it. You looked him in the eye and readied yourself. Something in you knew this was essential to your very self- more than the accident of your birth.
"Ah, you know already. Or should I say, your very core knows. This is why I seem so familiar, right? Beyond family. Beyond blood. This is an elemental connection."
He rubbed a chain link between his fingers. Smiled. "I didn't sleep with her just to indulge some incestuous curiosity. See, I was taking this correspondence class on Buddhist technique. Sutras, mantras, metaphysics. Now, religion was a much bigger taboo than incest. The old man kept it away from us, and the secret thrill of learning these things was more exciting than the topics themselves. Ah, and then I realized I could do so much more if I just didn't care about other people. But it was difficult."
"Buddhism taught you that sleeping with her solved this problem? That's irrational."
"Oh, would it ever kill you to give me some credit? I did say there is more to it. Now, I wanted to see if a particular technique could help me with my problem. And so I used it during your (very planned) conception. I must tell you, losing all that neediness was an incredible relief. Better than the orgasm. But, over time I have found it only compounds my boredom."
"Are you saying I have your conscience?"
"Conscience? What? That's a misplaced idea. No, my dear, dear boy. You have something much more than that..." He pressed your head into his shoulder. Ruffled your hair. "You have half my soul. And it's time to give it back."