Saiyuki Story: One (first in a series of eight)
Title: One
Author: Sunspot
Rating: PG 13
Note: Sigh, I was planning to participate in the Slash Advent Challenge, but apparently I missed the sign-up deadline. So here it is. Er, and to those celebrating Chanukah, chag sameach! ETA: I am in the challenge as a late entry (tho will still be posting 12/1 in my time zone). Thank you to Ddraigcoch for her kind indulgence!
One
Hakkai stood at the inn room’s small, square window, Jeep perched, slightly painfully, on his forearm. They looked out together at the whirling snow.
“Pii?” Jeep said doubtfully.
“I appreciate your offer,” Hakkai replied quietly, “and your spirit, but no, I don’t think it’s at all wise to try it.”
He’d already discussed the matter with Sanzo, in one of their near-wordless accords, follow-up to Gojyo’s piquant, if obvious, “Shit, it’s a fuckin’ blizzard out there!” They were here for the duration.
At least they’d had the good luck to be snowed in at an actual inn, this time.
Hakkai surveyed the room. Sanzo was cleaning his gun, and so was not likely to be shooting at anyone, at least for the next quarter hour. Gojyo and Goku were engrossed in a game of snap, which meant that violence could break out at any moment, but was likely to be of the good humored sort, for now. He looked at Jeep again.
“It may be time to resort to the Book.”
Jeep gave a resigned “kyuu,” and flapped over to perch on the bed where Gojyo and Goku were sprawled.
Really, it was entirely unfounded. Holi had been a great success until some of the colored water had landed on the Maten.
Hakkai dug the battered paperback, Festivals of the World, out of his pack, and looked at the several-years-out-of-date comparative calendars. It was close to the solstice, there was bound to be something . . .
Aha! This looked promising: one of the longer festivals, and it began tonight, if Hakkai’s calculations were correct. He’d ask Gojyo to verify later. Really, one of the best things about Buddhism was it didn’t really matter what else you celebrated, as long as you didn’t get too attached to it. Hakkai flipped pages to the actual entry and began to read.
By lunchtime he had a proper list, and had met with the innkeeper, who was willing to provision them with the necessary supplies, and permit Hakkai to use the inn’s kitchen, provided the other guests, and the innkeeping family, could join in the festivities. Granted , Hakkai had prevaricated a little, but just because this was the first time he and his friends had celebrated Chanukah, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t become a valued tradition for them.
“Gojyo, Goku, I have a project for you,” Hakkai announced when they were back in their room.
“’Nother holiday?” Gojyo said. “You had your nose in the Book all morning.”
“Oboy!” Goku enthused. “What kind of food is it this time?”
“You’ll really like this one,” Hakkai told him. “It’s all fried.”
Sanzo looked up from his newspaper and gave a snort. Jeep’s kyuu was particularly resigned.
Really, what was with the doubters? Hakkai’s holidays had always turned out spectacularly well. True, there had been the bonfire incident, but that was back in the spring. He showed Gojyo and Goku the illustration, and summarized the requirements, and set them loose to build a nine-branched oil lamp out of whatever they could scrounge. That ought to occupy them for the better part of the day. Hakkai opened the Book again and began contemplating the menu.
The holiday began that evening and Hakkai was ready. It being storm season, the inn had few guests, all of them trapped for the duration of the blizzard. As the wind howled and snow scoured the shuttered windows, fewer than a score of puzzled, but game, merry-makers gathered in the inn’s dining room.
Gojyo and Goku had set up their project on a table pulled to the center of the room. It was a miracle of ingenuity, a shrub-sized concatenation of ashtrays, shot glasses, a plinth that looked like it usually (and right side up) served as a kneading trough, and arms that seemed to be borrowed from a child’s construction toy.
The oil was in a small pitcher. As their hosts and fellow guests gathered around, Hakkai poured a small amount into the shot glass at the far end, and the middle one, elevated above its fellows by a stack of three ashtrays. Gojyo stood at the ready with his lighter.
“Light the helper one first, right?” he muttered to Hakkai, sotto voce.
“The shamash, right, then use it to light the other.”
Gojyo carefully lit the dental floss wick, which caught after a couple tries. The crowd (well, near enough) ooed and ahhed obligingly. Gojyo lowered the lighter and looked at the shamash. He looked at the shotglass on the end. He looked back at the shamash. He shrugged, and used the lighter to light the second glass.
Hakkai turned to Sanzo expectantly. “The blessing,” he prompted. It was only appropriate that the actual priest-on-hand fulfill that duty. Hakkai had given him the Book to study when he’d come downstairs to cook.
Sanzo scowled, but stepped forward.
“It’s a wonder the gods put up with us,” he intoned. Then stepped back. Apparently, that was it.
Hakkai, somewhat resignedly, clapped three times, the others in attendance following suit. At least Sanzo hadn’t shot the lamp. Hakkai spared a brief moment of respect for the bullet-riddled Guy from last autumn. Now that had been unfortunate, if spectacular.
After that, the dinner itself was a big hit, with everyone enjoying the fried dumplings. The inn’s dishwasher (otherwise known as the innkeeper and innwife’s second son) was about Goku’s age, and Hakkai left them to the cleaning up, chattering and munching from the plate of dumplings Hakkai had kept back for them as an incentive. Making his way upstairs, he was perhaps the tiniest bit over-full, and basking in a job (keeping his traveling companions from assaulting one another out of boredom) well done. Tomorrow he would set Gojyo and Goku to making dreidels.
Author: Sunspot
Rating: PG 13
Note: Sigh, I was planning to participate in the Slash Advent Challenge, but apparently I missed the sign-up deadline. So here it is. Er, and to those celebrating Chanukah, chag sameach! ETA: I am in the challenge as a late entry (tho will still be posting 12/1 in my time zone). Thank you to Ddraigcoch for her kind indulgence!
One
Hakkai stood at the inn room’s small, square window, Jeep perched, slightly painfully, on his forearm. They looked out together at the whirling snow.
“Pii?” Jeep said doubtfully.
“I appreciate your offer,” Hakkai replied quietly, “and your spirit, but no, I don’t think it’s at all wise to try it.”
He’d already discussed the matter with Sanzo, in one of their near-wordless accords, follow-up to Gojyo’s piquant, if obvious, “Shit, it’s a fuckin’ blizzard out there!” They were here for the duration.
At least they’d had the good luck to be snowed in at an actual inn, this time.
Hakkai surveyed the room. Sanzo was cleaning his gun, and so was not likely to be shooting at anyone, at least for the next quarter hour. Gojyo and Goku were engrossed in a game of snap, which meant that violence could break out at any moment, but was likely to be of the good humored sort, for now. He looked at Jeep again.
“It may be time to resort to the Book.”
Jeep gave a resigned “kyuu,” and flapped over to perch on the bed where Gojyo and Goku were sprawled.
Really, it was entirely unfounded. Holi had been a great success until some of the colored water had landed on the Maten.
Hakkai dug the battered paperback, Festivals of the World, out of his pack, and looked at the several-years-out-of-date comparative calendars. It was close to the solstice, there was bound to be something . . .
Aha! This looked promising: one of the longer festivals, and it began tonight, if Hakkai’s calculations were correct. He’d ask Gojyo to verify later. Really, one of the best things about Buddhism was it didn’t really matter what else you celebrated, as long as you didn’t get too attached to it. Hakkai flipped pages to the actual entry and began to read.
By lunchtime he had a proper list, and had met with the innkeeper, who was willing to provision them with the necessary supplies, and permit Hakkai to use the inn’s kitchen, provided the other guests, and the innkeeping family, could join in the festivities. Granted , Hakkai had prevaricated a little, but just because this was the first time he and his friends had celebrated Chanukah, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t become a valued tradition for them.
“Gojyo, Goku, I have a project for you,” Hakkai announced when they were back in their room.
“’Nother holiday?” Gojyo said. “You had your nose in the Book all morning.”
“Oboy!” Goku enthused. “What kind of food is it this time?”
“You’ll really like this one,” Hakkai told him. “It’s all fried.”
Sanzo looked up from his newspaper and gave a snort. Jeep’s kyuu was particularly resigned.
Really, what was with the doubters? Hakkai’s holidays had always turned out spectacularly well. True, there had been the bonfire incident, but that was back in the spring. He showed Gojyo and Goku the illustration, and summarized the requirements, and set them loose to build a nine-branched oil lamp out of whatever they could scrounge. That ought to occupy them for the better part of the day. Hakkai opened the Book again and began contemplating the menu.
The holiday began that evening and Hakkai was ready. It being storm season, the inn had few guests, all of them trapped for the duration of the blizzard. As the wind howled and snow scoured the shuttered windows, fewer than a score of puzzled, but game, merry-makers gathered in the inn’s dining room.
Gojyo and Goku had set up their project on a table pulled to the center of the room. It was a miracle of ingenuity, a shrub-sized concatenation of ashtrays, shot glasses, a plinth that looked like it usually (and right side up) served as a kneading trough, and arms that seemed to be borrowed from a child’s construction toy.
The oil was in a small pitcher. As their hosts and fellow guests gathered around, Hakkai poured a small amount into the shot glass at the far end, and the middle one, elevated above its fellows by a stack of three ashtrays. Gojyo stood at the ready with his lighter.
“Light the helper one first, right?” he muttered to Hakkai, sotto voce.
“The shamash, right, then use it to light the other.”
Gojyo carefully lit the dental floss wick, which caught after a couple tries. The crowd (well, near enough) ooed and ahhed obligingly. Gojyo lowered the lighter and looked at the shamash. He looked at the shotglass on the end. He looked back at the shamash. He shrugged, and used the lighter to light the second glass.
Hakkai turned to Sanzo expectantly. “The blessing,” he prompted. It was only appropriate that the actual priest-on-hand fulfill that duty. Hakkai had given him the Book to study when he’d come downstairs to cook.
Sanzo scowled, but stepped forward.
“It’s a wonder the gods put up with us,” he intoned. Then stepped back. Apparently, that was it.
Hakkai, somewhat resignedly, clapped three times, the others in attendance following suit. At least Sanzo hadn’t shot the lamp. Hakkai spared a brief moment of respect for the bullet-riddled Guy from last autumn. Now that had been unfortunate, if spectacular.
After that, the dinner itself was a big hit, with everyone enjoying the fried dumplings. The inn’s dishwasher (otherwise known as the innkeeper and innwife’s second son) was about Goku’s age, and Hakkai left them to the cleaning up, chattering and munching from the plate of dumplings Hakkai had kept back for them as an incentive. Making his way upstairs, he was perhaps the tiniest bit over-full, and basking in a job (keeping his traveling companions from assaulting one another out of boredom) well done. Tomorrow he would set Gojyo and Goku to making dreidels.