In The Pond
Title: In The Pond
Author: laurose8
Ratings: G
Pairing : Goujun10
Warnings : none
Summary: Gaiden fluff, set just before its opening scene : a thank you to sunspot67 for his much better 'Transform'.
cross-posted to Saiyuki
a/n: this fic contradicts a statement Goujun makes in canon. Considering the circumstances, he probably felt it best passed over, especially since he wasn't paying much attention to Konzen anyway.
disclaimer: I'm using the creations of Kazuya Minekura
Thanks to Samsarapine, for last minute beta'ing
Konzen looked at the stack of papers on his desk with apprehension. As he went through it the apprehension grew.
He sat back in his chair, put his bare feet up on the desk, and thought it over, as best he could while his brain was melting from the heat. On the one hand Tenpou was his best friend, in many ways his only friend. He should help him. On the other, he respected the older man. He knew Tenpou was both smarter and savvier than him. Shouldn't he let him run his own life? And do his own work? He reached out and pulled the next paper at random from his in-tray.
Approval for last winter's requisition of an extra stove. That settled it.
He stacked the Tenpou related papers into an ominous red folder, put the folder under his arm, and headed toward Tenpou's office. But first he picked up something from one of the huge storerooms.
Konzen was a native of Tenkai. Walking through the halls of Heaven carrying your own luggage was one of the things which were Just Not Done, even if the luggage was only a folder and a couple of sticks of bamboo. Konzen wished he had Tenpou's flair. Tenpou wouldn't have cared what people thought, and would have found some stratagem to get around it if he did. All Konzen could do was frown blackly at anyone who looked at him, and he didn't know if they noticed the difference. He went on, a plainly and brightly white figure against the elaborate calligraphy and art of the walls.
The great maze of corridors and offices wasn't air conditioned. The air in it was suffocating, with heat and old, old smells. All the faces he passed were unhappy. This sort of weather did much to make the Jade Emperor unpopular. Being elderly, he liked his summers hot. A lot hotter than most of the younger gods could stand. It made them more eager to grumble about the other drawbacks of his rule, and there were plenty of those.
Raised among Heaven's aristocrats, Konzen knew this sort of political game well. Despite that, he chose not to play. Perhaps because of that.
From long habit, he barely clapped before the wooden door before entering. Normally, Tenpou would be too involved in something to notice anyone clapping for admission.
His worst fears were confirmed. His friend was sitting behind a desk, concentrating on official papers. Wearing a neat uniform.
Konzen dropped the red folder in the middle of Tenpou's work, scattering pages. “Would you care to explain this?” As Tenpou blinked, he went on, “For the last week, papers from your office have been on time, have been correctly completed, and have been the right papers. The right number, too.” He remembered the time when Tenpou, to show what he thought of one piece of bureaucratic obscurationese, had sent in five copies of every paper. “There haven't even been coffee stains. Are you sick?”
“No.”
Konzen could get much across with a raised eyebrow.
Tenpou said hurriedly, “It's just I've decided it's time to grow up. I'm an adult kami, and I should start behaving like one. I've no business feeling - acting - like...”
Konzen wondered if he'd actually used such clichés on Tenpou in their disagreements. That time Tenpou had tried to mechanise the armies of Heaven, maybe.
Maybe it was the heat. In which case, too, his plan would work. “Lock up your office and put this on.”
Tenpou accepted the wide, straw sun hat and silken, but drab-coloured, robe. But he held them at arm's length. “What is this?”
Konzen was wearing much the same clothes, but in brilliant white shot with gold thread. Even his sun hat was white. “Clothes to keep the sun off.”
“I have to stay. Kenren needs me.”
Konzen had never met the guy, but he'd heard a few things about him. “Doing his job will give him a hobby.” Konzen lifted the bamboo sticks in his hand, but from Tenpou's expression he wasn't sure he recognised them. “We're going fishing.”
It took Konzen's long friendship with Tenpou to make out the small frown between his brows. He showed Konzen Douji great trust by not masking his reaction. Usually Tenpou used a polite smile. When he was feeling really vicious, a smirk, which was no mask at all. “We're kami of Tenkai, we never kill.”
“There are no hooks on the line.”
“Oh. That makes everything clear.” Tenpou shrugged slightly, took off the jacket of his uniform, and put on the silk coat. He asked politely enough, “Where are we going, then? Somewhere with no fish?”
Konzen said, “Fishing where there's no fish? You always did have strange ideas.” Tenpou smiled back at him, and followed.
When they'd arrived Tenpou pointed out, more calmly than most gods would have said it, “This is the Emperor's private goldfish pond.”
“The prettiest fish in Heaven. There's a nice shady spot under the sakura.” A spot with a little bench, in case the Emperor decided ever to sit there and enjoy his garden.
He never did, of course. The Emperor was an old man.
Tenpou sat obediently, naturally choosing the shady end of the bench. Anyone should mistake the darker, drabber angler for Konzen's servant.
Tenpou's nose wrinkled slightly at the over-sweet scent, and he glanced up into the blossom. Konzen wondered if he wished it to be clear red and white, rather than the pinks of Heaven's perpetual sakura. Konzen couldn't think of a red and white blossom, but there were only a few accepted flowers in Heaven.
Obediently, Tenpou copied Konzen, tying a gold weight to the fishing line, and casting it into the pond. Konzen couldn't guess what he was thinking. Tenpou was far smarter than he was, after all. But he didn't think Tenpou was happy. The Marshal's disregard of Heavenly custom was apt to be subtler than this.
But then, nowadays Tenpou wasn't happy about anything. Konzen felt obliged to try and change this. Even if he was the very last kami who should be meddling in these matters.
The thought of his own total unfitness darkened the frown he gave the unfortunate gardener who asked them to leave. The gardener scurried off for help. Tenpou made a small noise of protest at distressing servants, but then began to relax. “This is a good idea.”
He watched the goldfish graciously deign to glide towards their lines, and nuzzle at the tinnier gold of the chess pieces. One dark one, younger and smaller, manouevered around the others. “Something new. Lucky fish.”
All other things apart, Konzen decided this was relaxing. Even in the the most exclusive parts of the bureaucracy's corridors, there was a steady background hum. Here the hum was bees, mixed with the faint plop of some water beetle, the heavy regular stride of army boots...
Man-shaped, but not a man, a tall figure in a white robe strode up. His skin bore white scales, and there were horns in his silver hair. His eyes were red. Goujun, dragon, king and general. The gardener had shown the sense to go straight to the highest rank available. That part had gone off all right. “Do you not know this is the private grounds of the Jade Emperor Himself?”
Konzen stood and bowed, very slightly. “Lord Goujun, I ask your indulgence for this. But the heat was making my friend ill.” He nodded at Tenpou.
A foreigner in a land which despised all foreigners, and halfway to hostage, Goujun had endured much from Heaven without showing pain or giving way. But just for a moment, he seemed as if he would retreat from Tenpou. Then Goujun looked again. Tenpou was flushed from more than heat, and definitely less collected than usual. “It is against regulation for you to be here, but my own palace has a cool courtyard with a fountain.”
Tenpou frowned at Konzen. He'd already made it plain to Konzen no help or sympathy was appreciated. Konzen looked back without expression. He'd made his choice.
The elder kami turned to the dragon. The honest and loyal man, who, Tenpou had told Konzen, had suddenly turned out to be neither. Except Konzen thought he might be.
And he thought much of Tenpou's misery was because he didn't know why Goujun had changed. If they only found that out, they'd be better off.
Tenpou said, “You're always generous, Goujun. But I won't accept. If you choose to cover the defalcations of powerful men - ”
“What are you talking about?”
“Our argument.”
“Was about you risking your neck on the front line.”
Even Tenpou blinked, as it sank in the foreign-raised Goujun had never understood the overtones of their argument. “Not on the front line.”
Konzen was so glad he didn't play with politics and subtlety.
Tenpou could have taken the rest of the day off, but said he felt obliged to go to a formal tea party. At least, Tenpou style, he bundled himself untidily into his lab coat to attend.
Konzen was glad he could claim he was needed at work. In Heaven, anyway, tea parties combined the disadvantages of hard work and insomnia.
In his office, the approval for the stove still waited in the in-tray.
Of course, it would take at least six months for the stove to be delivered. He initialed it, stamped it, and moved on to the next one.
He was glad he'd helped Tenpou. But his friend's eyes had been fixed on Goujun. Goujun had his own social circle, dragons and other beings of the Western Ocean, some even stranger than dragons, all interesting to a man like Tenpou. He would have far less time for Konzen, and their ties would belong in the past. Konzen's own life would be even more...
“Boring,” he told his in-tray.
The door swung open and Kanzeon, Heavenly Boddhisata and his aunt, posed there. It really wasn't fair She was so little effected by the heat. “Your face says that loudly enough.”
He scowled at Her.
Gods didn't die, but sometimes they disappeared mysteriously. Konzen could barely remember his parents. After his loss, Kanzeon had kept an eye on her nephew, and was as maternal as a child born into Her family could expect. When he'd graduated, She stopped him from going into the military with his best friend, and ensured he took the right path to power, with the civilian bureaucracy. They still had a family bond. True, this was mainly expressed by Kanzeon teasing Konzen, in order to stop him from turning into the complete bureaucrat he was told he should be; and Konzen insulting his aunt, so She wouldn't believe She was the perfect being people kept telling Her She was. But families are like that.
Behind Her sharp words, Kanzeon had come to invite him to Her cool Hall of Audience. Behind his scowl, Konzen was glad to accept. They wasted little time. Even their bickering was becoming more and more empty form.
They passed the tea party on the way. Tenpou seemed to be looking for someone up in the tree branches. Konzen shook his head. At least his routine didn't include that.
(fade to canon)
Author: laurose8
Ratings: G
Pairing : Goujun10
Warnings : none
Summary: Gaiden fluff, set just before its opening scene : a thank you to sunspot67 for his much better 'Transform'.
cross-posted to Saiyuki
a/n: this fic contradicts a statement Goujun makes in canon. Considering the circumstances, he probably felt it best passed over, especially since he wasn't paying much attention to Konzen anyway.
disclaimer: I'm using the creations of Kazuya Minekura
Thanks to Samsarapine, for last minute beta'ing
Konzen looked at the stack of papers on his desk with apprehension. As he went through it the apprehension grew.
He sat back in his chair, put his bare feet up on the desk, and thought it over, as best he could while his brain was melting from the heat. On the one hand Tenpou was his best friend, in many ways his only friend. He should help him. On the other, he respected the older man. He knew Tenpou was both smarter and savvier than him. Shouldn't he let him run his own life? And do his own work? He reached out and pulled the next paper at random from his in-tray.
Approval for last winter's requisition of an extra stove. That settled it.
He stacked the Tenpou related papers into an ominous red folder, put the folder under his arm, and headed toward Tenpou's office. But first he picked up something from one of the huge storerooms.
Konzen was a native of Tenkai. Walking through the halls of Heaven carrying your own luggage was one of the things which were Just Not Done, even if the luggage was only a folder and a couple of sticks of bamboo. Konzen wished he had Tenpou's flair. Tenpou wouldn't have cared what people thought, and would have found some stratagem to get around it if he did. All Konzen could do was frown blackly at anyone who looked at him, and he didn't know if they noticed the difference. He went on, a plainly and brightly white figure against the elaborate calligraphy and art of the walls.
The great maze of corridors and offices wasn't air conditioned. The air in it was suffocating, with heat and old, old smells. All the faces he passed were unhappy. This sort of weather did much to make the Jade Emperor unpopular. Being elderly, he liked his summers hot. A lot hotter than most of the younger gods could stand. It made them more eager to grumble about the other drawbacks of his rule, and there were plenty of those.
Raised among Heaven's aristocrats, Konzen knew this sort of political game well. Despite that, he chose not to play. Perhaps because of that.
From long habit, he barely clapped before the wooden door before entering. Normally, Tenpou would be too involved in something to notice anyone clapping for admission.
His worst fears were confirmed. His friend was sitting behind a desk, concentrating on official papers. Wearing a neat uniform.
Konzen dropped the red folder in the middle of Tenpou's work, scattering pages. “Would you care to explain this?” As Tenpou blinked, he went on, “For the last week, papers from your office have been on time, have been correctly completed, and have been the right papers. The right number, too.” He remembered the time when Tenpou, to show what he thought of one piece of bureaucratic obscurationese, had sent in five copies of every paper. “There haven't even been coffee stains. Are you sick?”
“No.”
Konzen could get much across with a raised eyebrow.
Tenpou said hurriedly, “It's just I've decided it's time to grow up. I'm an adult kami, and I should start behaving like one. I've no business feeling - acting - like...”
Konzen wondered if he'd actually used such clichés on Tenpou in their disagreements. That time Tenpou had tried to mechanise the armies of Heaven, maybe.
Maybe it was the heat. In which case, too, his plan would work. “Lock up your office and put this on.”
Tenpou accepted the wide, straw sun hat and silken, but drab-coloured, robe. But he held them at arm's length. “What is this?”
Konzen was wearing much the same clothes, but in brilliant white shot with gold thread. Even his sun hat was white. “Clothes to keep the sun off.”
“I have to stay. Kenren needs me.”
Konzen had never met the guy, but he'd heard a few things about him. “Doing his job will give him a hobby.” Konzen lifted the bamboo sticks in his hand, but from Tenpou's expression he wasn't sure he recognised them. “We're going fishing.”
It took Konzen's long friendship with Tenpou to make out the small frown between his brows. He showed Konzen Douji great trust by not masking his reaction. Usually Tenpou used a polite smile. When he was feeling really vicious, a smirk, which was no mask at all. “We're kami of Tenkai, we never kill.”
“There are no hooks on the line.”
“Oh. That makes everything clear.” Tenpou shrugged slightly, took off the jacket of his uniform, and put on the silk coat. He asked politely enough, “Where are we going, then? Somewhere with no fish?”
Konzen said, “Fishing where there's no fish? You always did have strange ideas.” Tenpou smiled back at him, and followed.
When they'd arrived Tenpou pointed out, more calmly than most gods would have said it, “This is the Emperor's private goldfish pond.”
“The prettiest fish in Heaven. There's a nice shady spot under the sakura.” A spot with a little bench, in case the Emperor decided ever to sit there and enjoy his garden.
He never did, of course. The Emperor was an old man.
Tenpou sat obediently, naturally choosing the shady end of the bench. Anyone should mistake the darker, drabber angler for Konzen's servant.
Tenpou's nose wrinkled slightly at the over-sweet scent, and he glanced up into the blossom. Konzen wondered if he wished it to be clear red and white, rather than the pinks of Heaven's perpetual sakura. Konzen couldn't think of a red and white blossom, but there were only a few accepted flowers in Heaven.
Obediently, Tenpou copied Konzen, tying a gold weight to the fishing line, and casting it into the pond. Konzen couldn't guess what he was thinking. Tenpou was far smarter than he was, after all. But he didn't think Tenpou was happy. The Marshal's disregard of Heavenly custom was apt to be subtler than this.
But then, nowadays Tenpou wasn't happy about anything. Konzen felt obliged to try and change this. Even if he was the very last kami who should be meddling in these matters.
The thought of his own total unfitness darkened the frown he gave the unfortunate gardener who asked them to leave. The gardener scurried off for help. Tenpou made a small noise of protest at distressing servants, but then began to relax. “This is a good idea.”
He watched the goldfish graciously deign to glide towards their lines, and nuzzle at the tinnier gold of the chess pieces. One dark one, younger and smaller, manouevered around the others. “Something new. Lucky fish.”
All other things apart, Konzen decided this was relaxing. Even in the the most exclusive parts of the bureaucracy's corridors, there was a steady background hum. Here the hum was bees, mixed with the faint plop of some water beetle, the heavy regular stride of army boots...
Man-shaped, but not a man, a tall figure in a white robe strode up. His skin bore white scales, and there were horns in his silver hair. His eyes were red. Goujun, dragon, king and general. The gardener had shown the sense to go straight to the highest rank available. That part had gone off all right. “Do you not know this is the private grounds of the Jade Emperor Himself?”
Konzen stood and bowed, very slightly. “Lord Goujun, I ask your indulgence for this. But the heat was making my friend ill.” He nodded at Tenpou.
A foreigner in a land which despised all foreigners, and halfway to hostage, Goujun had endured much from Heaven without showing pain or giving way. But just for a moment, he seemed as if he would retreat from Tenpou. Then Goujun looked again. Tenpou was flushed from more than heat, and definitely less collected than usual. “It is against regulation for you to be here, but my own palace has a cool courtyard with a fountain.”
Tenpou frowned at Konzen. He'd already made it plain to Konzen no help or sympathy was appreciated. Konzen looked back without expression. He'd made his choice.
The elder kami turned to the dragon. The honest and loyal man, who, Tenpou had told Konzen, had suddenly turned out to be neither. Except Konzen thought he might be.
And he thought much of Tenpou's misery was because he didn't know why Goujun had changed. If they only found that out, they'd be better off.
Tenpou said, “You're always generous, Goujun. But I won't accept. If you choose to cover the defalcations of powerful men - ”
“What are you talking about?”
“Our argument.”
“Was about you risking your neck on the front line.”
Even Tenpou blinked, as it sank in the foreign-raised Goujun had never understood the overtones of their argument. “Not on the front line.”
Konzen was so glad he didn't play with politics and subtlety.
Tenpou could have taken the rest of the day off, but said he felt obliged to go to a formal tea party. At least, Tenpou style, he bundled himself untidily into his lab coat to attend.
Konzen was glad he could claim he was needed at work. In Heaven, anyway, tea parties combined the disadvantages of hard work and insomnia.
In his office, the approval for the stove still waited in the in-tray.
Of course, it would take at least six months for the stove to be delivered. He initialed it, stamped it, and moved on to the next one.
He was glad he'd helped Tenpou. But his friend's eyes had been fixed on Goujun. Goujun had his own social circle, dragons and other beings of the Western Ocean, some even stranger than dragons, all interesting to a man like Tenpou. He would have far less time for Konzen, and their ties would belong in the past. Konzen's own life would be even more...
“Boring,” he told his in-tray.
The door swung open and Kanzeon, Heavenly Boddhisata and his aunt, posed there. It really wasn't fair She was so little effected by the heat. “Your face says that loudly enough.”
He scowled at Her.
Gods didn't die, but sometimes they disappeared mysteriously. Konzen could barely remember his parents. After his loss, Kanzeon had kept an eye on her nephew, and was as maternal as a child born into Her family could expect. When he'd graduated, She stopped him from going into the military with his best friend, and ensured he took the right path to power, with the civilian bureaucracy. They still had a family bond. True, this was mainly expressed by Kanzeon teasing Konzen, in order to stop him from turning into the complete bureaucrat he was told he should be; and Konzen insulting his aunt, so She wouldn't believe She was the perfect being people kept telling Her She was. But families are like that.
Behind Her sharp words, Kanzeon had come to invite him to Her cool Hall of Audience. Behind his scowl, Konzen was glad to accept. They wasted little time. Even their bickering was becoming more and more empty form.
They passed the tea party on the way. Tenpou seemed to be looking for someone up in the tree branches. Konzen shook his head. At least his routine didn't include that.
(fade to canon)