Saiyuki Fan Fiction / Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction ❯ Welcome To The Night ❯ We Plan ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

***This may be my last update for a while, I'm coming up to an absolute shit storm of exams, and I don't have room in my mind for much else other than revision (you really don't want me to end up accidentally writing “Hakkai Compares the Adversarial and Inquisitorial Trial Systems” or “Sanzo Implements Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs to Motivate the Ikkou”).

But this fic is well and truly alive, as is `En Masse', and after late November I'll have more time than ever to write. I'll just play it by ear until then, and will definitely be back later, I promise!***

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Sanzo was woken up the next morning by the shrill sound of his phone ringing. Blindly groping for the source of the irritating noise, he knocked the handset from its base, and in the quiet of his apartment could hear the voice of his boss yelling even though the phone was nowhere near his ear.

Opening his eyes, he grabbed hold of the phone and dragged it over to his face, wincing as Dokugakuji kept shouting.

“Start again.” Sanzo refused to yell back, instead icily telling the other man to restart his speech.

“AND I…hmm, what? Oh. I thought I told you to be here at nine this morning. Where are you, and why is it more important than your job? I swear, if it wasn't for…”

Sanzo dropped the phone onto his bed, not willing to hear about his father's influence so soon after waking up. Scrubbing his eyes with his fingers, Sanzo leisurely stretched his arms out before picking the phone up again and speaking into it. “One, I don't care. Two, you never said that. Three, I'll be there in half an hour. Oh, and four; fuck you.”

He hung up the phone, unwilling to start another day and have to deal with more idiots, but also not wanting to push his boss too far. Dokugakuji was a relatively laid-back guy, mostly; but he was also a little trigger-happy and a lot remorseless. Hell, you didn't get to run a crime syndicate without sacrificing a few lives in the process. He'd probably killed more important people than the not-legally-adopted son of the last leader's best friend.

Judging by the older man's tone, Sanzo guessed that he was supposed to be accompanying his boss somewhere important. Dragging himself out of bed, he opened his cupboard and threw on some underwear, picking out a dark, faintly-pinstriped suit. Glancing in the mirror Sanzo saw a generic businessman, perfectly aligned to what his `official' job title stated: General Manager of Bosatsu Industries.

Not that he actually did any `managing' of the legal business; Doku had other people for that, so Sanzo merely held the title to legitimise the fact that he often accompanied his boss to `business meetings'.

Fifteen minutes later, Sanzo was crawling through traffic and wishing that the roads would clear up enough to let him go the last half-mile to the office building. Finally, the pace of the other cars increased, and twenty-eight minutes after hanging up his phone, Sanzo was stalking through the hallway towards the head office.

Pushing none-too-gently through the office door, Sanzo was greeted by his employer's distantly agitated face. Something serious was about to go down, he could just tell.

Doku's eyes came back into focus when Sanzo stopped in front of his desk, and he snapped them up to glare directly at the blonde. “Took you long enough. Anyway, no time for pleasantries; I have something really damned important for you today.”

Sanzo's mind went into overdrive, trying to ascertain exactly what was about to be asked of him. `Maybe it isn't actually bodyguard work today…a hit, perhaps?'

“It's about…kid, sit down,” Doku paused until Sanzo took a seat, “It's to do with how our businesses are going. We're losing serious ground to Kougaiji's organisation, especially in the prostitution rings. The guy who runs the club I sent you to the other night? He's one of Kougaiji's major pimps, and lately he's managed to steal too many of our top girls.”

Sanzo's teeth gritted involuntarily at the mention of the rival group; they'd been the ones to ambush Sanzo and his father in their own fucking home, fatally wounding the real `Sanzo'.

It was only after those thoughts had passed that Sanzo clicked onto what he was most probably going to be asked; Prostitution ring…the club…the redhead…

“Oi, listen to me. Don't zone out now or I'll chuck you through that window over there. Now, this Banri guy is becoming a problem. It'd be best if we took him out quickly, but that wouldn't solve all of our issues. We need to maximise our operations, and we know perfectly well that the prick makes an absolute killing from his hidden brothels. What I need from you is to find out exactly how his joints work.”

Sanzo didn't like the possibility of coming into contact with that whore again. He was an irritating shit of a man, and just the kind of person Sanzo hated. It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that the other man seemed to be pushing his way into Sanzo's mind, not at all. He wasn't putting in any more research at any of Banri's clubs. “I've already…”

“No, what you got for me the other night was an outsider's view. I need inside information, and I needed it yesterday. This is on your ass now, Sanzo, so find someone who's willing to talk. I should warn you, I've had people try to get his girls to spill it all before; they're loyal. But those guys were…easily distracted. I'm trusting you to be able to ignore the `charms',” Doku made finger quotations as he said the word, “of the girls you talk to.”

Sanzo snorted quietly, fully aware that everyone connected to the organisation thought he was asexual. If only they knew…

He wondered vaguely whether that list of names he'd requested had been sent through yet; it would really come in handy right about now. Sure, he had the number of one of Banri's whore already, and the redhead would probably talk…but Sanzo wasn't going there. He refused to owe that man anything.

“So yeah, that's the deal. I don't want to see you; I don't want to hear from you until you've found out everything…why are you still here? You've got a job to do.” Doku was unusually serious, so Sanzo stood and left without another word. Not that he was generally anything but taciturn or insulting, regardless of his employer's mood.

He had a list of whores to get, and some serious convincing to do. And no, he wasn't going to call the redhead…unless he got really desperate…maybe…

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Gojyo flicked open his planner, trying to remember which clients he had coming up and when. His week was looking fairly bare; he only had three `appointments' from today, being Wednesday, until Friday. After that it was two nights at the club, as per usual, and a day off on Sunday.

He was never going to make the money he needed at this rate; Banri's cut was just too high. Gojyo was glad that when he'd given the pimp his takings from the club, he'd pretended that the blonde had only paid the standard rate. That'd helped, a little.

His spirits jumped when the familiar buzz of his work cell sounded from the pocket of his loose cargo pants; hopefully it was someone enquiring about a job, so that he could make a decent pay.

Clearing his throat, Gojyo dropped his voice to a seductive tone as he answered the call from an unfamiliar number. “Gojyo here.”

“Alright, listen, you. As much as I detest having to do this, I…Ineedtoaskyousomething.” The final words were quiet and very quickly spoken, but Gojyo recognised the evil-sounding growl on the other end of the line, his spirits staying up even though this probably wasn't going to make him any money. He had one pissed-off, blonde hellcat on the line, who sounded like he needed a favour or something. This could get interesting…

“Oh, you sound stressed, Blondie. If you wanna come over, I can…relieve that for you.” He couldn't resist laughing at the furious sighing noise that came through the phone

“Why do I always have to deal with complete idiots?” The other man's first sentenced was mumbled, probably more for his own benefit than Gojyo's hearing pleasure, before he raised his voice and continued, “I need information. You know everything I have to learn. You will tell me everything so that I will not have to lower myself to torturing it out of you, no matter how fun that sounds.”

Gojyo was instantly suspicious; he'd heard variations on this theme before. “Blondie, are you a cop? I don't deal with cops.”

He didn't think that the other man seemed like any sort of law enforcement, but then again, life on the streets taught you never to trust anyone on appearances. He'd also seen prostitutes selling out their pimps to police, hoping to escape the trade, only to end up dead because of it. Nothing good ever came from helping cops, not even when they were as gorgeous as Gojyo's mysterious customer.

“What? No, you dipshit, I'm not a fucking cop. Don't piss me off any more than you already do, or I'll go straight to the torture to get my information.” Gojyo couldn't be entirely sure, but the other man seemed genuine. Maybe he really wasn't a cop, but then…Ah, whatever, Gojyo could find out the specifics after he'd had some fun.

“Alright, Mr Not-A-Cop, I'm intrigued. What kind of torture are we talking? Whips and chains? Spanking? Because I'm all for that sort of kink. I've got this afternoon free, we can start right now.”

If it wasn't for the muffled screaming in the background, Gojyo might have thought that his new `friend' had hung up. As it was, he simply waited until the noise stopped and the blonde offered some actual words, managing to grind out, “I. Will. Kill. You.”

“Yeah, you might, but it sounds to me like I have information that you desperately need. You don't seem willing to tell me why you need it, and Hell, you haven't even told me what you need. But I'll help you. I'm a nice guy. You just have to do something for me first.” Gojyo really was willing to help the man, as long as it had nothing to do with the police. It might even warm the grumpy blonde up a bit, and increase Gojyo's chances of getting to feel that elegant dick moving inside him again.

He bit back a moan at the memory, deciding that openly groaning wasn't the best plan of action when dealing with someone who was clearly homicidal. This guy couldn't be a cop; he was more like…well, a murderous maniac. That view was helped along by the infuriated, slightly insane sound that the blonde was currently using as a voice.

“Must I remind you, you fucking redheaded prick, which one of us is the whore?”

The insults were starting to wear a little thin on Gojyo, despite the fact that it was cheap entertainment to rile the blonde. He decided to get to it. “I don't have to help you out, y'know. But I might, if you play your cards right. Listen, I really do have the rest of the day free. If you come here, we'll talk- here being my apartment.”

“Alright then…Gojyo, was it? Your address?” Gojyo's eyebrows rose, truly surprised that the blonde had agreed so quickly. `He really must be desperate! I wonder what he wants…and why he wants it…Oh well, all in good time.'

He reeled off an address, hearing pen scratch on paper over the line. Suddenly, a thought popped into mind and he immediately voiced it before the other man could hang up. “Hey, this isn't fair; you know my name, but I still don't know who the fuck you are. Got a name, beautiful?”

Another drawn-out sigh entered Gojyo's ear, and he waited for the click and drone of the cut line. It came eventually, but not before an unusually calm voice broke the silence; “They call me Sanzo.”

Gojyo felt himself smile, a genuine expression without any of its usual seductive or mocking edge. The blonde…Sanzo, really was warming up. It'd been a long time since he'd really gotten to know someone outside of the business…as long as the man didn't turn out to be a cop.

Gojyo had to remind himself that there was always that distinct possibility, but still he couldn't remove the almost-goofy smile from his face. The expression stayed until there was a knock on his door, when the smile grew wistful. Was it possible that Sanzo would be the one who would take his non-prostitution virginity?

Gojyo shook his head and sighed before opening the door. This lust thing was making him go…weird. He'd never cared about that sort of thing before; so why did it seem almost important now?

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Sanzo pressed the button to kill the connection, dropping the phone on the floor and running his hands down his face. He felt like he was making a huge mistake…well, a series of big mistakes that compounded upon each other to become a huge mistake.

There was the fact that he'd called the redhead after two and a half days of telling himself, in no uncertain terms, that he wasn't going to use that number. But when he'd gotten his hands on the full list of Banri's workers, most of the names weren't accompanied by contact information. Not really a surprise. And the ones that were reachable had all hung up after accusing him of being a cop.

He'd been at the very end of his rope, with the clock ticking and only one more shot at getting the information he needed. Hell, as it was he'd procrastinated for a full day before calling the redhead…'Gojyo,' he reminded himself. And, just as he'd thought, Gojyo had heard him out, even after accusing him of being with the police. The man had to have an ulterior motive…and Sanzo knew perfectly well what it was probably going to be.

There was no chance of him getting out of this scot-free…hopefully he could ignore the whore's brazen come-ons. Idiot job, idiot boss, idiot rivals, idiot pimp, idiot prostitute…

And then there was the second mistake. He had actually agreed to go to the other man's home? It occurred to Sanzo that he'd probably get jumped the minute he walked through the door, without the cover of the public to save himself. Reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket, Sanzo drew out his revolver and checked the cylinder, making sure it was loaded. Chances were, he was gonna need it.

Sanzo put the gun back inside his jacket, hand stilling when he realised his third mistake. He'd forgotten to change his phone to a private number; Gojyo now had his name and contact details. Sanzo blamed his adoptive father for the name thing; despite how he acted, the blonde had a ridiculous sense of honour that had been instilled in him by the real Sanzo. Because Gojyo had agreed to help him, Sanzo's honour had flared up and demanded that he answer the redhead's request for a name…

Stupid fucking sense of honour. It always led to trouble.

Deciding that he was only going to kill himself if he kept going over everything that he'd just done, Sanzo grabbed the piece of paper with the other man's address and realised why it sounded so familiar. He'd been to that building before; had killed a man who lived on the second floor. That had been an interesting day. Kinda messy, though.

Sanzo realised that the redhead had to be doing okay for himself, considering where he lived; the building was in the bad part of the city, and it looked like shit from the outside, but it was all just a cover. The inside of the building was modern and clean, and apparently rent was fairly steep. There was more than one upper-level prostitute who traded out of the apartments, as well as the mistresses of rich guys who didn't want to be seen suspiciously entering apartment buildings in the ever-watchful, gossiping rich section of the city.

And now Sanzo was going there to extract information from a good-looking male whore who seemed determined to jump him. Life was juuust fabulous, wasn't it?

Walking out to the hallway before he decided to repaint the living room with his blood, Sanzo slowly made his way to the building's garage, purposely taking his time. He really didn't want to do this…but then again, he really had no choice.

Focusing on the pass of traffic through the streets, Sanzo managed to forget the imminent torture…until he went to pull into the parking lot of Gojyo's building. What the fuck was he doing? Apart from being about to enter the home of an irritating, facial-tic-inducing prick, of course.

…There was still time to kill himself…

Cursing the thoughts of weakness, Sanzo told himself to man up and deal with it. He was a high-level criminal hard-ass; no one had the right to make him feel so…stressed. He was going to go into the redhead's apartment, get the information he needed, only touch the man if it was to beat the absolute shit out of him, and be done with his work.

Then, he was going to never contact, lay eyes on or even think about the man again.

Standing outside the door of Gojyo's apartment, Sanzo took a deep breath to steel himself before reaching out and firmly knocking on the wood.

When a smirking redhead opened the door, it took all of Sanzo's willpower not to shoot the man there and then. But he had a job to do, and by God, he was going to do it.

“Come on in, Sanzo.”