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"It's easy. Just close your eyes and shut up!"
"I'm worried about Ten-chan." That was about the hundredth time he'd said it in the past three days.
"Tenpou doesn't need people worrying about him." the Kanzeon's nephew replied, a bit more subdued. "He can take care of himself, despite all the trouble he causes."
"But still..."
A vein popped out. " .What?"
"Feels like wolves."
"Wolves? What are those?"
"Big hairy monsters that walk on four legs with really scary yellow teeth. Whenever I smelled them around...or thought they were nearby, I had to climb into a tree...all the time because they can't climb."
"Sounds like youkai to me."
"Wolves. Are there wolves in heaven, Konzen?"
"Sure. They're called politicians."
"Konzen!"
A sigh. "Goku...just go to-"
But a shrill cry shook the night, piercing the walls around them, right down to the marrow of their bones. The first was followed by a second, which was then followed by another until a whole grotesque chorus of fierce wails arose, like a wave gaining momentum...
Konzen tried to switch on the light, but the moment he did, the bulb shattered, raining down on them in shimmering pieces. The glass of the window cracked. And a cold wind...
****
The cold wind bit at Tenpou's neck and he hunched over to pull his collar up. It was a futile attempt at warmth, yet he didn't mind because lately, the term 'futility' had made itself a permanent and cozy niche in his mind.
You will fail.
You will die.
You will sin.
You will cry.
You will turn into your own victim. Quietly, the metal cuffs seethed as the gusts picked up. They were coming. The sun was setting as he prepared himself to kill for the first time. Taking a life seemed so clinical, the written word making the act seem an act and nothing more than an act. The word nothing more than a word, but as there had always existed an incongruity between words and actions, actions and thoughts, surely the deed must carry with it a heavy burden, to a certain extent a specific type of trauma that comes with the pinnacle of immorality.
That is not to say that there aren't those who deserve to die. There are...
And so is there any being better fit than a god to execute those mortals unworthy of life?
And what of the gods unworthy of their immortality? Who to execute them?
Wallowing in irony, Tenpou thought of his other self. Why, a mortal of course.
He took a moment to indulge himself in a strange vanity, that the mortal man he will become will be unordinary, that part of humanity chosen from the rest because he is of celestial background...
"I only believe in my leading idea that men are in general divided by a law of nature into two categories," Tenpou once read. It still held a certain, egotistical truth with him. "inferior (ordinary), that is, so to say, material that serves only to reproduce its kind, and men who have the gift or the talent to utter a new word. The second category all transgress the law; they are destroyers."
But if such a one is forced for the sake of his idea to step over a corpse or wade through blood, he can, I maintain, find himself, in his conscience, a sanction for wading through blood.
"But I hate blood."
"What a coincidence," someone said behind him. "So do I." A cold hand brushed over his hair, causing the clinging snowflakes to shimmer down, only to disappear as the wind whisked them away to nothingness. "So does he. But he's used to it- seeing it every time he looks at me. And I'm used to it- seeing it every time I look in the mirror. Which leaves you." Gojyo settled down behind Tenpou until they were back to back. "Apparently you haven't been looking at me enough to realize that I'm not-"
"Of course you aren't." the marshal cut in. "Nor did I ever expect it of you."
"Ah, then why cuddly moment?"
"I was making sure. And now I am sure that you are not Kenren Taishou."
"How so?"
"You simply aren't."
"Does he smoke?"
"Yes."
"Does he drink?"
"Quite a bit."
Gojyo didn't get it. "So what's the difference?"
"Simple."
"What?"
"He'd let me lie to him." Tenpou stifled a laugh as he leaned into what little warmth he could feel from the half-breed's skin.
Gojyo snorted. "What a pushover."
"I'll quote you on that next time I see him. Usually I am the one who is...how do you say..."
"Pushed over?"
"So to speak..." Tenpou drifted off, his mind dipping itself once again in a pool of reminiscence. He would like to think it was all for the sex, because it was good sex. Nothing Gojyo wouldn't have been able to provide had he asked at that moment three days ago. Not just physical release...
"So..." Gojyo struck up the conversation again, this time around feeling less uncomfortable. "Does he...you know..."
"We don't use that word in heaven."
