LIGHTNING-STRUCK
Fandom: Saiyuki Ibun
Pairing: Toudai/Houmei
Rating: Gen
Status: Drabble, 715 words complete.
Prompt: " “Was that lightning?” "
LIGHTNING-STRUCK
Houmei usually didn’t have a problem with the formal spiritual practices part of their training. This was where everyone sat in seiza for hours and chanted and meditated. It worked for him because if he kept his head down, he could catch a few extra snoozes and nobody would be the wiser.
If only Houmei could figure out how to keep his head from nodding, or lolling off to the side or even right back, or that thing where he sometimes let out a snore or drooled. Any such evidence of snoozing earned him a sharp whack on the forehead with the meditation priest’s whacking stick. The meditation instructor really liked to use it, too, which meant that Houmei’s snoozes never dared to deepen as deeply as he wanted them to go. Another problem was, with all the whacking, he could swear the front of his head was starting to feel a little mushy, like a ripe cantaloupe. It wasn’t only the meditation priest who used whacking sticks.
The other thing was the way the rest of the first faction ragged on him.
“How did you ever manage to progress this far?” They - well, mainly Jyouan - would ask.
And the only thing he could think of to say to that - other than making up some nonsense language and pretending he was casting a strange spell, which never seemed to make them as nervous as he hoped it would - was, “I haven’t the slightest idea. If you can ever figure it out, be sure to let me know.”
Most of the First Faction were decent sorts, though. Houmei was fond of them. Old Seiren with his silly earnestness. He was just so earnest and good and perfect and squeaky clean that Houmei could kiss him, except that would probably make him mad and Ryuijin madder. Then there was Genkai who was just cute, even with his deadly poisonous gift.
Houmei considered the vision he tapped into with Fifty-somethingth-or-other in that particular line of sanzo, Genjyou. Yeesh. Poor kid. After that flash, Houmei’d been as nervous around Genkai as a gekko in a box of pit adders ever since.
What he wasn’t expecting was Toudai to interrupt his reverie with the command, “Get up and follow me.”
“Um, okay. Maybe. Why?”
“I need an extra set of hands, and yours are the only empty ones around here right now.”
So that was how Houmei found himself traipsing very reluctantly after Toudai who seemed to relish finding things to do. Why would anyone do that? Didn’t anybody except Houmei like to sleep anymore?
Toudai took him down two flights of stairs to the woodshed, and then, piled a stack of chopped logs and kindling in his arms, “So we don’t freeze tonight.”
“Okay, I think that’s good.” They still had to climb all the way back up to their dormitory.
“Before we head back, can I just say something?”
Uh-oh. Houmei forced himself to smile. “Sure!”
“Because you never struck me as a coward.”
The smile vanished.
“Which is why I have to wonder why a guy like you, who seems like one of the more awakened ones around here, has taken to avoiding Genkai. Don’t tell me you’re afraid of him.”
“Umm, yes?”
“What?”
“I am?”
The armful of logs was starting to feel a little heavy, and they were standing in the snow.
Toudai frowned, “You saw your death?”
“No, nothing like that.”
The frown grew frownier. “But you saw something that alarmed and troubled you.”
“Mostly, I just saw a flash of lightning.”
“And the rest?”
“I can’t make heads or tails of just yet.”
Toudai nodded as he absorbed this new information, “But you don’t have a problem per se with Genkai.”
Houmei nodded with full confidence, “Nope.”
“Well, would you mind explaining to that to him, then?” Toudai looked exasperrated. “The guy thinks you believe all those ugly rumours about him.”
“Okay,” Houmei agreed. As Toudai picked up his load and walked off, Houmei watched him leave. He didn’t say anything about the vision of Genkai lying in a pool of his own blood or of Toudai coughing up a lung.
- fin -
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