Heaven seemed like a better place, now that he was tipsy. It gave him a lighter heart- in a way as light as it was before he met Tenpou who was (besides physically satisfying) like a foggy day in the middle of an Under Heaven summer...and alcohol made him poetic... heavy, hot, blinding, fatalistic. Fatalistic and he didn't care either. Learned to live with it, fatalistic, hot, naked, blinding, just close your eyes and let...and alcohol made him forgetful of the present, and reminiscent so that the Now suddenly stuck out like a sore thumb. It was over. Fuck you, Tenpou; you manipulative bastard. I've enough, drop dead at my feet and I wouldn't have the pity to look down. Likewise, I'd bet...

*****

Litouten had grown unusually quiet and Nataku pretended not to notice, dutifully watching the parade like a dutiful son. Litouten was smirking like a cat who had just swallowed a canary and Nataku just sat there, bored, and dutifully watching the parade like a dutiful, bored son- pretending not to notice the fact that they were one man short. And the place was festive. And the cherry blossoms flew. And the flute sounds danced in the dead wind as the heavy drums beat a dead sound to a happy death march. And in a window across the happy dancing death marching parade, Nataku didn't pretend not to see the glint of metal that reflected off a dead sun. The pointy tip of an arrow pretending not to be there.

*****

And they say that gods can't die.

Hakkai ran.

But surely, gods can bleed.

*****

Where the hell is he? Konzen stalked through the crowd, up and down the street. "Goku!" This day, out of all days, boring day in and boring day out...must be the worst of them all. He looked around him to make sure nobody paid attention, then spat indignantly in a convenient place where people would most likely not walk.