Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction / Saiyuki Fan Fiction / Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ En Masse ❯ Chapter 3

***Warning: I'm about to bastardize some of “Mission 8: Raubtier”, and so a general idea of what happens in that episode would probably be handy. But I'm also not sticking to the canon timeline at this point…it's an AU-type dealio!***

 

 

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The fangirls: quite possibly the most exasperating part of having to work as a florist, in Aya's opinion. Their shrill voices and idiotic ideas…Aya couldn't remember his sister ever acting like that, and she was the same age as many of the banshees who flocked the store…

 

 

Immediately moving his mind on before the image of his sister hurt any further, Aya looked at the clock hanging from the wall. Closing time wasn't for over an hour, and surely another influx of shrieking girls would be in before then, just to get in the way and never buy a thing. He was glad, though, that the store was in a rare moment of peace, the four Weiss men and Momoe able to get some coffee into their bodies to strengthen them for the ordeal ahead.

 

 

The bell above the door chimed, and Aya groaned internally. `It begins…'

 

 

Aya could honestly say that he'd never been prayed to before. Men had prayed to their useless gods as he stood over them with sword in hand, but they'd never treated him as a god. The two brats currently asking for better grades made him wish that he did have his sword with him; but apparently, using violence on little girls was frowned upon. He settled for telling them to get out, his mood darkening with every moment that they stood there.

 

 

The door swung shut as the girls hastily retreated, but before it clicked back into place the bell was ringing again and a single man stepped into the store. `Fantastic, just what I need…Chinese Yohji's come to brighten our lives.' It had been three days since Weiss and the Ikkou had been introduced, but Aya had only laid eyes on the tall redhead during that time. The other three were not particularly missed in their absence, and the swordsman wished that their fourth would stay with the rest of his team. Watching him and Yohji flirt nearly made Aya nauseous, for reasons he would rather not dissect.

 

 

“Afternoon, boys! How come you never told me you were gods? I could've been praying for Sanzo to fall off his high horse and hurt something important, if only I'd known.”

 

 

This time, Aya voiced his annoyed sigh loudly, not that it fazed any of the others in the room. It was bad enough that Gojyo was hanging around again, but he seemed to have brought with him the entire fangirl population. And, just as would be expected from them, the questions were beginning to fly.

 

 

“Who's this guy? He's sooo gorgeous!”

 

 

“Look at that hair, it's amazing!”

 

 

“Is he related to you, Aya?”

 

 

“Has he started working here? What's your name?”

 

 

“What's your favourite flower? Your blood type?”

 

 

“Who's prettier, me or her? It's me, right?”

 

 

“Will you come to my birthday? It's next week!”

 

 

Omi, hanging up the phone from a customer enquiry, shook his head. `I was definitely right when I thought that Hakkai wasn't gonna tell his teammates about the girls. Poor Gojyo looks like he wants to hide!'

 

 

He was covering it well, but Omi would see the shock running through Gojyo's body. Assassin's instincts were trying to kick in, and he was desperately suppressing them to avoid causing a scene. Turning around to send Gojyo to the back of the shop, compassion rising and making him want to save the poor man, Omi stopped when he saw a third redhead step into the store. Three of the other four men in the room noticed his pause, and all subtly glanced around to see why. The last man was still trying to keep up with the ridiculous questions and grasping hands being sent his way, and failing miserably.

 

 

“Ladies, ladies, please, let Momoe here deal with all your flower needs. Later!” Yohji's casual dismissal caused many of the girls to sigh and beg dramatically, and a few more to grab tighter onto Gojyo's arms, trying to keep him in place. He tried to shake them loose without hurting anyone, but eventually just gave up and gave one good wrench to get himself free. Manx, unnoticed in the chaos of the store, slipped out the back door, followed by Weiss and Gojyo.

 

 

As unflappable as always, Momoe stepped in to serve and the girl population began to dissipate.

 

 

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The dark form of Persia lit up the wall, sent from the projector to address the men in the room.

 

 

“Hello Weiss. You have a new mission. The man, who killed two men last night, had altered DNA and had become a monster. Hunters of the Night, deny the tomorrows of the evil beasts who change humans into monsters.”

 

 

The video flickered off, leaving four very confused assassins and one incredibly disgusted half-Youkai, all gaping at the composed woman standing by the stairs. She took their silence as the cue to speak. “Now, there is a very specific reason why I brought one of the Ikkou here with me today. The details of this mission involve some…sensitive information, and they have a lot more knowledge in this area than you do.”

 

 

“Then why do we have to handle this? Can't they just take care of it?” Ken's question had definite merit, and Omi found himself nodding in agreement. There was something about getting so little mission information that sent a slight feeling of dread through him.

 

 

“No. Kritiker decided that Weiss would get this mission. Here's the data on the man, or monster, that was shot. So, who's in?” Manx had a clear tone of irritation in her voice, as she did whenever orders were questioned.

 

 

Aya, standing against the wall of the mission room, was only half listening to the protests of his team. `Idiots…we do what we have to, in order to get paid. Not knowing every detail of the target's life just makes it easier.' Pushing off from his position, he walked over to Manx, snatching the mission folder from her manicured hands. A crimson eyebrow rose as he saw just how little they'd been provided with; something was being kept from them, Aya knew it.

 

 

“This is all we get, even with Kritiker?” The challenging note in his voice was clear.

 

 

“…Yes. Well, that and the information that Gojyo will provide you with; but I'm leaving that to him. Those are all of our hardcopy notes.” Manx replied with a tone that matched Aya's, daring him to decline the mission and the money it would provide towards his sister's hospital bills.

 

 

“Really?” Aya refused to simply give in to the woman. At least a token protest was required, to make her think that maybe he wasn't going to accept the vague job. Aya might have been made Kritiker's dog, but he hadn't been trained to stop barking.

 

 

“Why shouldn't we give you all the information at our disposal?” Still, despite the secretary's words, Aya was not convinced that the thin folder was all Kritiker could dig up on their target. At times the organisation seemed almost omniscient, so why were they acting so clueless now? Giving up, he put that particular puzzle aside for later.

 

 

“Fine. I'm in.” He moved away with the folder, barely focusing on anything other than the words printed there. The others would fall in line; they almost always did. `Except when Yohji's on one of his ridiculous “I'll only save women” trips. What a prat.'

 

 

He finished the folder in record time, throwing it down onto the table taking up the middle of the room. Walking over to where the Chinese agent sat, still displaying a look of disgust on his tanned features, Aya demanded to know more.

 

 

“You're here for a purpose. So tell me what you know. And don't even think about lighting that.”

 

 

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Gojyo was so shocked by the sudden outburst that his fingers naturally pulled away from the cigarette pack in his pocket. His lips twisted into a sneer, not that it affected the standing man. `Goddamn, but this is one fuckin' stuck-up prick. It's just like dealing with Sanzo…but, then again, at least Priesty lets me have a smoke.'

 

 

With those initial thoughts out of his head, Gojyo immediately returned to what he'd previously been considering. The images he saw on the wall…that dead guy was a Youkai, there was no doubt in his mind. `But that man, Persia…what did he mean by altered DNA? Oh, no…'

 

 

When Gojyo stood up, Aya didn't move. The men stared each other down before Gojyo cracked a smile, stepping around the scowling swordsman and stretching his arms out above his head. He winked at Manx and ignored the quiet sound of disgust she let out. “Well, Little Miss Red Riding Hood, I gotta talk to Hakkai about some shit. I'll be back to fill these guys in later. Don't miss me too much!”

 

 

He decided that a quick exit was the best thing he could do, as the secretary looked murderous and the Weiss men seemed ready to start on a large string of questions. He moved up the stairs, only stopping when he was halfway up to turn back to the room's occupants.

 

 

“Oi, Gorgeous, let's go get tanked tonight! You owe me, after not warning me about those fucking girls. Later!” He continued his exit when Yohji made a sound of agreement, thinking over everything he had seen on the screen from the ridiculously dramatic shadow-man.

 

 

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Gojyo didn't bother knocking when he entered Hakkai's hotel room; living and sleeping together meant that the redhead felt no need for privacy with the healer. He was immediately glad that he hadn't warned Hakkai of his impending entry, as his first sight upon walking into the room was the other man unbuttoning his shirt and exposing subtle muscles. Gojyo saw the body tense when the door swung open, and relax again when a wolfwhistle pierced through the room.

 

 

“Now that's how you welcome a guy back! Y'know Kai, I vote that you stop wearing clothes altogether. I'm sure those girls in the flowershop would agree.” The figurative lightbulb went off when Hakkai, now completely liberated of his shirt thanks to an extra pair of helping hands, had the decency to blush slightly at Gojyo's words.

 

 

“Wait, what the fuck? You knew about those little head cases? Kai, you bastard! Good thing you're pretty, otherwise I'd kick your ass for willingly subjecting me to that!”

 

 

“Ah, yes, Gojyo, I knew. I would have warned you, but I…” The words mutated into a sigh when long fingers began to dance down the bare torso, tracing lines running underneath the white flesh.

 

 

“Well, I'm sure you had reasons, probably ones that involved getting me back over something, and I'm also sure that you can make it up to me, hmm?” The kappa gripped Hakkai's hips, pulling their bodies closer and capturing pink lips in a gentle kiss.

 

 

A small voice in Gojyo's head was reminding him that he went to the hotel for a reason, and that reason wasn't a quickie, but the minority was thoroughly beaten into submission by a large and insatiable sex drive. Taking his lips from Hakkai's, he began to suck on the other man's neck, raising a mark that wouldn't bruise, but would colour slightly for a while. Steady hands pushed his vest from his arms, and Gojyo reluctantly released his hold on Hakkai so that he could grip the hem of his black tank and pull it over his head.

 

 

Shaking messy hair from his eyes, Gojyo leered at his friend and looked around the room. “So, why exactly were you getting naked when I busted in? I'm guessing that you weren't expecting me, as much as I'd love for you to have a sixth sense about that sorta shit.”

 

 

He'd seen it before, but Gojyo was always amazed when Hakkai actually smirked. The look always made him privately wonder why the only woman Hakkai had ever caught was his goddamned sister; but he didn't particularly like to stay on that train of thought for long.

 

 

“Actually, I was about to take a shower and,” Hakkai extended his hand to Gojyo, “I'm guessing that you've just invited yourself along.”

 

 

Mimicking a flattered woman, Gojyo delicately twisted his fingers into the brunette's, pretending to blush and giggle. Hakkai let out a few laughs, his equivalent of a chuckling fit, and pulled the redhead towards him while stepping back to open the bathroom door.

 

 

Removing his hand from Hakkai's and lowering it to the button on the man's pants, Gojyo grinned. “Guess you won't be needing these, then!”

 

 

Gojyo flicked the button open and drew down the fly, taking longer than was strictly necessary and making sure that he copped a good feel along the way. He was vaguely disappointed to note that Hakkai was wearing underwear; Gojyo didn't care for it himself, and found it ridiculously sexy whenever his partners did the same. On rare occasions the brunette was known to go without, and from previous experience Gojyo knew that this was a sign of imminent kinky, dirty sex.

 

 

But Hell, if a shower fuck was all he was going to get, Gojyo wasn't about to complain. Water, at least in smallish amounts, was his natural element after all.

 

 

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It was only when he flopped down on the couch, still naked and towelling his hair as he hung his head off the side of the cushions, that Gojyo recalled what he wanted to ask Hakkai. He immediately sat up and located his pants, deciding that a serious discussion probably wasn't best conducted while his cock was out.

 

 

The action gained him an odd look from Hakkai, the one usually first to redress but who was still only wearing a towel. Gojyo thought he'd better explain himself before the sight of moisture trailing down that body distracted him.

 

 

“Anyway, after that little interlude, I actually have some stuff I need to ask you. So, ah, s'much as I hate to say it, you might wanna chuck some underwear on before I lose my thoughts again and have to ravish you.” Hakkai simply shrugged at the suggestion and accepted the garment that was being held out to him, shaking the material out and stepping into it. A small sigh escaped Gojyo when the brunette's manhood was covered, but he shook himself ever so slightly and put his mind back on track. `Right, man-made Youkai. This is important shit.'

 

 

“So, I know you, you're probably wondering why I'm not currently tackling you into this bed, and also why Manx wanted one of us to go see Weiss. They're actually connected. Y'see, Yohji and the others are being sent after some guys that are responsible for a bunch of deaths lately. The reason I was sent over, and I'm still not one hundred percent on this, was probably to do with what happened to the victims.”

 

 

Hakkai nodded, to show that he was following, and Gojyo took a deep breath. “The point is, these targets that Weiss are hunting…I'm almost positive that they've figured out some way to turn normal humans into Youkai.”

 

 

Gojyo watched his friend's head tilt slightly to the side, recognising this as what happened whenever Hakkai needed to run through a lot of thoughts very quickly. He stood in silence, waiting for the healer to speak and give his opinion on the revelation.

 

 

“Firstly, tell me what you were told. How do you know that the man was a human or a Youkai?”

 

 

“There were pictures of the dead guy, in an alley…he was definitely a demon at the end. But the dude in charge, uh, Persia, said that the dude had altered DNA,” Gojyo cleared his throat and dropped his voice in a fairly weak imitation, “and had become a monster. Really, it seems pretty clear to me that some sick assholes have figured out the genetic differences between us and them. I mean, we all know that it's possible for humans to turn into Youkai.”

 

 

The flash of pain that crossed Hakkai's face made Gojyo regret his flippant attitude. He hated reminding the brunette of his past, of how life had been for Cho Gonou. Most of all, though, he hated it when he stupidly brought up how the human Gonou had slaughtered a thousand Youkai and become one himself. It was a reflex action for him to put his long arms around the half-blind man, and temporary quiet descended upon the hotel room once again while the men stood, joined and unmoving.

 

 

As if snapping himself out of a trance, Hakkai eventually stepped away from the lose hold around his shoulders, absentmindedly plucking lint off the pants he hadn't yet put back on. “Sorry, Gojyo, I suppose it's all the rain they've been having here…As you were saying, you believe that a group has discovered how to alter genetics?”

 

 

Gojyo, used to the abrupt subject changes that his friend constantly made, tried to remember exactly what he was supposed to be doing…

 

 

“Umm…Oh, yeah, right! That's what I needed to ask you. Have you ever heard of this being a possibility, with drugs or something? Because I have to go back soon and tell `em whether or not it really was a Youkai that died.” A sudden chill through the room had Gojyo wrapping his arms across his bare chest. Hakkai didn't seem to notice the temperature drop, as deep in thought as he was.

 

 

“…Ah, I can't conclusively say, but I do think that I've heard similar stories about drugs that can somehow alter a human's DNA…it's possible, though not entirely probable, that these people actually are making Youkai, or at least something very similar.”

 

 

Hakkai looked satisfied with his own explanation, and the redhead nodded, beginning to search for his shirts at the same time. “Well then, guess I'll head back over and fill in what they need to know. Hey, Kai…should I tell them…about us? I mean, about what we are?”

 

 

That question had been weighing upon Gojyo's mind, because he thought the other men might not take the news as easily as Yohji had. He wanted a second opinion; Hakkai was the only Ikkou member that he could ask. The brunette showed no change in his expression, a gentle smiling still playing over his lips. “Well, I suppose that it's only polite…I don't see the harm in telling them now, it's going to come out sooner or later. We don't want to seem like we're hiding secrets, now do we?”

 

 

A weight lifted off Gojyo's shoulders was immediately replaced by a new one; just how to broach the subject with Weiss. `Oh, fuck it; we'll just see if it comes up naturally. No point in pushing too hard.'

 

 

“Well, now that's settled, I'd better get dressed, sad as that prospect is. I'm going out with Yohji after I tell `em what you said, and shit's probably gonna get wild…you wanna come, Kai?” The kappa's mind was running with the possibilities of what he could do with two gorgeous men at his side. Unluckily for him, though, Hakkai was also tuned into his devious plan.

 

 

“No thankyou, Gojyo…I had better inform Sanzo of what you told me. Go, have fun.” Hakkai was in no mood to fend off two probably horny, definitely drunk men; he didn't trust the tall blonde enough to get himself into that sort of situation…'Yet.'

 

 

Shrugging, Gojyo collected up his shirts from the floor, looked at them, and decided not to bother. Walking to Hakkai, he planted a kiss on the man's lips before spinning off and out the door, back to his own room and his wardrobe.

 

 

Leaving Hakkai's room, Gojyo came to a halt when he saw Sanzo standing across the hall, in front of his own open door. A glare formed on the priest's face, though Gojyo couldn't help but notice that the angry look took a few seconds more to appear than it usually did. So, naturally, the redhead had to comment.

 

 

“Oh, didn't you hear, Baldy? It's `Go Shirtless Day', so ditch the robes and let us all bask in your ab-tastic glory! Or are you getting fat from sitting on your ass and never helping, hmm?”

 

 

It was second nature for Yohji to rag on Sanzo now, not that he'd really tried to be any other way from the very beginning. It was fun for the younger man to see how far he could push before the gun appeared, although he really was more interested in encountering the blonde's other `weapon'. He might possibly have even had a fantasy or two based around that theme…maybe.

 

 

Sanzo simply let out a disgusted sigh, and as he turned to keep walking Gojyo found himself thinking, `What is with him and that redheaded guy? All they do is sigh and grunt. Bastards!'

 

 

He only just caught the movement of white and black from the corner of his eye as he spun. By the time the image registered and he moved back to face Sanzo, the blonde already had his robes hanging around his waist, and was beginning to lift his soft black undershirt.

 

 

 

Pale abdominal muscles exposed, Sanzo waited for Gojyo's eyes to stop spinning around in his head. Pointing to his stomach, the blonde addressed Gojyo in his usual apathetic-yet-angry tone. “Fucking idiot. Does this look like someone getting fat to you? I didn't realise you were that stupid.”

 

 

Gojyo was still standing in the hall, speechless, until the priest had rolled down his shirt and pulled his robe back over his shoulders. It was only after Sanzo was fully dressed again that a reply crept into Gojyo's mind, finally breaking through the shock he felt from what the blonde had just done. Of all the things Sanzo could have done, undressing in the hallway was the last thing that Gojyo expected.

 

 

“Well, uh…Oh! That sounded pretty vain, priest-man. I thought you had to stop acting like that when you got your fancy bit of magic paper.” Gojyo was almost proud of himself for thinking up words to say. He'd obviously seen Sanzo's stomach before, had made a ridiculous amount of jokes about it being white enough to blind an unsuspecting person, in fact. `So why is today…so different? He shouldn't be able to knock me speechless like that…Shiiiittt…'

 

 

Sanzo grunted again. “Maybe you are that stupid. Why would that be the one Buddhist rule I stick to? I drink, I smoke, I eat meat, I kill and I fuck. A little vanity means nothing.” Following his words, Sanzo turned back into his room, nearly slamming the door off its hinges in the process.

 

 

Gojyo watched this happen, but none of it registered.

 

 

Running around his head was a trio of words in a continuous loop. `And I fuck…and I fuck…and I fuck…' This was news to Gojyo. He wanted to know who. He wanted to know when. He wanted to know how he missed that fact. And, most of all, he wanted to know when it would be his turn.

 

 

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Sanzo smiled when he was alone in his room. It wasn't often that he truly got the upper hand over the kappa, at least without using his gun or his fan. It felt good.

 

 

And, as an added bonus, Sanzo could now say with complete certainty that the redhead wanted him. The look of lust in the idiot's eyes practically screamed that fact, the one that was pretty much always there whenever Gojyo thought that Sanzo couldn't see him. The look had come back a million times stronger in the hallway; life was looking up for Genjyo Sanzo, even if he was stuck working in some crazy-assed country.

 

 

The smile immediately disappeared when a knock sounded on the hotel door. `Please, let the monkey still be preoccupied elsewhere…'

 

 

“Sanzo? Sanzo, there's something quite important that I have to discuss with you. Can I come in?” Hakkai's measured voice wasn't entirely welcome to the priest's ears, but it was better than Goku's irritating whine, at least. Sanzo made a fairly noncommittal noise, but he carefully schooled his face to show no traces of the amusement he was still feeling from dealing with Gojyo.

 

 

The door cracked open, Hakkai checking to make sure that he wasn't going to get shot, and then swung fully inwards. The brunette stepped almost silently into the room, with none of the racket that usually accompanied either of the other two Ikkou members. Sanzo almost liked Hakkai, simply for being outwardly unassuming…

 

 

“Gojyo came to tell me about a mission that Weiss have been given. He thinks that…someone has been creating Youkai from humans, using some sort of drug or science.”

 

 

“What would that dickhead know? Do you actually think that he might be right, Hakkai?”

 

 

The healer thought for a moment, considering all of his possible answers. “…Yes. I think that he's at least mostly right. He saw photos of a victim; I believe Gojyo when he says that he saw a Youkai in the picture. We don't know if the victim actually was a human beforehand.”

 

 

With an impatient sigh, Sanzo dropped back onto the lounge chair sitting behind him. He didn't particularly feel like dealing with people right now. “I fail to see what this has to do with me. You two work on it.”

 

 

Hakkai didn't know the meaning of the word `impatient'. Still smiling blankly, he continued as if Sanzo hadn't just tried to dismiss him. “Well, Sanzo, the part that I'm unsure about is how they managed the transformation. Placing a man in a gauntlet or something with one thousand Youkai seems awfully problematic. Gojyo said that Kritiker seems to think that it's done with drugs. I think that it's a mixture of human science and Youkai magic.”

 

 

Sanzo reached into the sleeve of his robe, drawing out a pack of cigarettes. Picking one out and lighting it, he made sure to blow to smoke in Hakkai's general direction. `If this doesn't get rid of him, nothing will.'

 

 

Hakkai simply waved the smoke away from his face, expression never faulting. He knew that Sanzo would want to hear what he had to say, even if the priest, the oldest man of the group, was currently acting like a petulant child. “In particular, I think that they may be using the power of one or more sutras. Sanzo, it's possible that they have your Seiten sutra.”

 

 

That little bombshell immediately caught Sanzo's wandering attention. He leant forward, resting his arms across his knees.

 

 

“Hakkai, tell me now and make it quick, what exactly makes you think that?”

 

 

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“Awesome stir-fry, Ken! Much better than Yohji's last attempt...” Omi made a face at the thought of the tall man's previous culinary `masterpiece'. The comment earned him a screwed up piece of paper to the forehead, Yohji using rubbish from his pocket to make a missile. Omi simply shrugged and kept eating, not wanting to start a food fight and have to waste the meal.

 

 

“It's the sorta skill you pick up when you wanna eat all the time!” Ken laughed, getting him some paper to the face as well. Yohji pouted and began to eat, all out of makeshift projectiles. To his left, at the head of the table, Aya stayed as silent as usual. There was no chance of Yohji riling Aya when he was holding eating implements of any kind; eye-removal surgery performed with chopsticks was not something the blonde felt like going through.

 

 

Omi had a piece of beef raised halfway towards his mouth when the kitchen door burst open with a resounding `bang'. The food continued to float somewhere above the table as he, and the other three in the room, all looked straight to the source of the commotion.

 

 

In the open doorway, a white-robed man stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Omi, Ken and Yohji continued to stare; Aya lowered his gaze and went back to eating.

 

 

“Tell me everything that you know about the bastards running those experiments.” The voice that rang out wasn't about to be argued with, because Sanzo wanted answers. `If they have information on the location of my master's missing sutra…'

 

 

Yohji leant back from his seat, grabbing the thin folder from the bench. He threw it in the direction of the door, unintentionally sending it spinning directly for the intruder's face. A delicate-fingered hand stretched out, snatching the folder in mid-air before it took out an eye.

 

 

Sanzo flipped through the sheets, a look of disbelief appearing on his face. “This is all you have? Your employer is a fucking joke.”

 

 

Silence still greeted the Chinese man, until it was broken by a deep voice. “They're hiding something from us. Apparently, your little pest of a teammate was supposed to have more information.” Aya sounded bored but slightly irritated. He still thought that something was wrong with the entire mission, and he was determined to find out what it was.

 

 

“Ch. He might be back in a few hours, if you're lucky. I suggest holding your breath until he shows.”

 

 

Aya pushed his chair back with a screech, stepping to the sink and rinsing his plate. Without turning back towards the door, he raised his hand above his shoulder and beckoned to the other standing figure. He walked towards the opposite door, in the direction of the living room.

 

 

“Well then, I suppose that you'll have to do. Tell me what you know. I have a theory.”

 

 

The pair promptly left the room, and the three men still sitting at the table simply looked at each other, wondering if Hell had just frozen over. They'd need to have their ice skates packed, if it had.