ratsoftobruk | Open Post

[ He's drawn his knees up to his chest while she was talking, like a child absorbed in a fairy tale. Now he looks down at the backs of his hands, considering.

The shaking hasn't gotten any better, not that he particularly expects it to. The pain has subsided completely, but in its wake is an encompassing lack of feeling. The scars are not normal, he's sure—unsurprising, considering their source, but also unpredictable.

His gracious host doesn't need to know any of this. Ukoku smiles up at her. ]

It doesn't really matter. [ He pauses; too honest. ] I'm worried about how they'll look when I go to get my award for best-behaved prisoner of the month.

Don't worry about that.

[Sharak walks around Ukoku towards the tray he's abandoned from the time being. She picks a spring pea out of the bowl and pops it into her mouth before turning back to him.]

You've still got some stiff competition from the pile of broken furniture next door.

[ He gasps dramatically, leaning back far enough to watch her from upside-down. ]

You can't give it to that broken furniture! I've worked so hard.

[ She's so far away, now. He gets up, dusts off his robes, and follows her. One of his hands reaches tentatively for one of hers, asking without asking. ]

Why are you here?

[The room isn't that big, Ukoku, chill.]

Why am I here? To talk to you. [There's no reason for Sharak to take his hand, not like last time, so instead she folds her arms. If he wants physical contact, he's going to have to earn it.] But that's not really the question you should be meditating on.

[ Even having known her a cumulative grand total of about ten minutes, he expected that brush-off. He grins, raising his hands defensively: fine, fine. ]

What question should I be meditating on?

[ Kind of like he's expecting some moralizing bullshit right now, but he's game. He flops back down by his tray. ]

[You can forcibly remove the title, name and scripture from the priest, but you can't remove the priest from whatever is left within a pathetic shell of a man... or something. Sharak sits down opposite him, at a polite distance.]

Why you're here. It's probably more interesting.

[She's here because it's her pain in the ass job to be. Who knows what the fuck Ukoku is meant to be doing.]

[ And there it is. It's simultaneously less than he was expecting and more irritating than it should be. He sips his water instead of saying anything right away. ]

Profound. Thank you. [ But he's smiling, and his voice is light. ] I've been meditating all day, actually! It's been great for my concentration, [ on the incredibly important things he's working on down here, of course, ] but I'll be really surprised if it spontaneously gives me answers like that.

[Sharak Sanzo is really good at her job.]

They told me you were intelligent. I assumed that meant you didn't need answers hand fed to you. [How disappointing.] Well, you have time to keep working on it.

[Stuck down here. Forever.]

[ He must be tired (he must be losing his mind), because his kneejerk reaction is to take offense. He bursts out laughing, instead: she's fucking with him—and she's good at it, unexpectedly. ]

You're a mean Sanzo. [ A correct Sanzo, also. The related problem is how to get her to shoot him when virtually no scenario makes it the most appropriate solution. Nothing he could possibly do would threaten her, so that's out, and if she doesn't want to be here, nothing's preventing her from leaving and not coming back.

And he doesn't know enough about her to guess. His mind is racing uselessly: what if she were Goudai? He tries to reject it, she's not Goudai, but the thought persists. ]

Well, if you think it would help, I guess you'd know best.

Careful, you'll hurt my feelings. [Calling an innocent girl mean, Ukoku. How could you?

But Sharak is here for the long game. Patience is key here, and she has to advantage over Ukoku there. She has other things to occupy herself with and no need to rush. It isn't pleasant having their own phantom haunting the castle basement, but it isn't a major inconvenience either. ]

We could talk about it, if you want to. [Tell her how you feel, Ukoku.] But I doubt I can give you a satisfying answer on my own.

I don't think you have feelings.

[ It's not so much a criticism as a neutral guess it sort of amuses him to make. He watches her for a second, picking at his vegetables. ]

I want to hear it, though. Even an unsatisfying answer would give me something to consider, you know?

You wouldn't be the first to call me a cold-hearted bitch.

[At least try to be original. Sharak reclines back on her hands.]

Fine. You're here because killing you would be a waste and setting you free would be a disaster. [Raises her eyebrow at him.] Satisfied?

[ He crunches a snap pea thoughtfully, tilting his head. ]

It'd be less of a waste if you had me do something I'm good at, yeah? My hands aren't the best, but I could teach somebody else.

[ He raises his eyebrows at her, smiling. He's not even a little bit above this. ]

It's something to think about.

[But less than two weeks into a project is too early to start bringing in other people. Maybe once she's got a better handle on Ukoku, he can be trusted to give lessons to members of the Kouten Brigade. Maybe even civilians. But not yet.]

What would you like to do? You're in pretty good shape for a smoker, right? You could have decades to spend being useful.

[ Ah, what a good backhanded compliment. ]

Are you threatening me with a long and helpful life? [ He pauses. There's like a 40% chance she has some other agenda here. ] I wouldn't mind showing someone how to deal with, um, the harder injuries. I bet you have a field medic. [ At best, but he's keeping that to himself. At worst, they have some old person who specializes in local herbs and praying really hard. This is the backwoods. ]

[Does she looks like the kind of priest that relies on the power of prayer? Come on, the scars are just her #aesthetic.]

Teaching is a noble calling, or so I'm told by teachers. [And frankly, a long and helpful life as a country doctor is about the best she could hope from Ukoku now. They've resolved all the grand, dramatic problems he could throw his life away fixing.]

But I'm asking seriously now. [Not playing whatever game this is, for just a minute.] If I let you go right now, what would you want to do? Where would you go?

[ He'd be a good boy and go recite sutras for the downtrodden or the isolated, of course, and give up drinking and gambling and sex like he'd promised to when they'd first let him into the temple.

His ghostly touchstone for this tentative rapport wouldn't have believed that. Sharak, to her credit, at least seems to have a better sense of humor. ]

I don't know. [ He looks up at the ceiling, as if that might help. ] It's been a long time since I've done much traveling. Maybe I'd go somewhere else.

[ Aimlessly, the way he got on a boat twelve or so years ago. The feeling is similar. ]

Edited 2017-02-15 01:13 (UTC)

[It's strange, the vows asked from those who become Sanzos. Give up all worldly things and live a life of good works and pacifism and be prepared to kill anyone who tries to take what is now yours, maybe even kill someone to get it in the first place. Strange how the other monks don't like to acknowledge that side to their most holy priests.]

You'd just disappear? [Well, it's something. Go back to Texas.] That might even be for the best.

[Like she said, a lot of people want to kill him.]

[ He misreads that one, laughs, and tugs his robe open a little, just enough to suggest a path to his heart. ]

Well, there's still time. [ But she can't be serious, one way or the other, so he smooths his collar closed. ]

Why ask for hypotheticals you're not going to act on?

[Mister Ukoku, are you trying to seduce her...]

Who said I won't do it? [She won't. But that doesn't mean she isn't asking seriously anyway.] But I want to hear what you're thinking.

Edited 2017-02-16 23:07 (UTC)

Cute scars.

[ Jokes probably aren't the best way to prolong this conversation, but he doesn't miss a beat. ]

I wonder why Sharak Sanzo would want to hear what I'm thinking. [ He sips his water for the pause. ] That's what I'm thinking.

[ It's as honest a question as he's ever posed. ]

I wasn't feeling very cute at the time.

[She doesn't seem particularly charmed, unfortunately.]

Probably because Sharak Sanzo is the one here to listen to you. You're a guest in my home, so I'm responsible for your emotional well-being.

[It's the sort of sentence that sounds sarcastic by default, but there's a weird sincerity about her too. She is a gracious host who cares about the people around her and Ukoku is definitely still a prisoner in her dungeon.]

My emotional well-being.

[ It's flat, deadpan, before he starts to laugh, doubled over, with his forehead propped against the back of his hand. (So his emotional well-being is great, clearly.) He pushes his hair out of his good eye when it's subsided, grinning. ]

I hope that doesn't, um, engender any resentment for you. Do you check on the emotional well-being of all the good people who serve under you?

[Ukoku- or whatever they're supposed to call him now- is clearly doing great. Sharak is a great host and an even better therapist. She sits there, staring at him unfazed, while he gets this laughter out of his system.]

I try to, but none of them are very fragile. [Unlike Ukoku, the delicate bunny rabbit.] They don't need me fussing over them.

[ He laughs again. He could say something cheap and obvious, something about how she's a woman, they'd probably like it, whatever. All of it sounds too sour in his head. He picks at his food for a few silent moments. ]

Did the Three Aspects tell you not to kill me?

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