#tenpou

That, however, was precisely what Tenpou balancing on a high step stool wedged unevenly among a pile of books in the middle of the room amounted to.

"Ahh, Commander," Tenpou greeted as Goujun shut the door behind him. "I had thought it was you." He stretched up and out, something green and leafy in his hand, reaching for the ceiling. "The requisitions are in my desk; I'll get them for you in just a moment."

"…Dare I ask what you might be doing?" Goujun threaded his way carefully around the haphazard clutter of scholarly pursuits that littered the space. Such untidiness irked him, chafed at his sense of order, but he had developed a persistent and undeniable yen for the young officer's company that had come to outweigh his distaste.

"Ah? Oh, nothing really, I'll just be a moment—" Tenpou began, but the words turned abruptly into something between a yelp and a startled squawk as he overbalanced on the uneven stool and tumbled abruptly down, arms flailing.

Reflex had Goujun lunging forward to break his subordinate's fall, Tenpou's shoulder catching him square in the chest. He grunted, braced, righted them both, disregarding the upset piles of books that slid to the floor around their feet.

Tenpou met his gaze sheepishly. "Anh…thank you, Sir." His eyes flicked to the stool, now on its side among the books. "I suppose that was rather foolish of me, especially when it's only for the sake of a little decoration…"

He glanced up, past Goujun's face.

"My, how serendipitous!" he remarked brightly, beaming.

Goujun followed his gaze upward, to a sprig of green leaves and waxy white berries hanging innocently above their heads.

His eyes returned to Tenpou expectantly.

Tenpou simply kept beaming.

Goujun let his gaze bore into Tenpou until the man could no longer feasibly pretend not to realize that his commanding officer was awaiting further explanation.

"Ahah. Well." Tenpou straightened his glasses but made no move to untangle his feet from the books about them or step away from the weight of Goujun's arm across his shoulders. "Do you recall the conversation we had recently regarding the evolution of folklore in many of the cultures Down There and the various traditions that have ensued?

"I do." It had made the tedium between holding audience with the Jade Emperor and meeting with their counterparts in each of the other armies far more bearable.

"Yes, well, I took it into my head to explore certain of these traditions in a little more practical depth. Do you recall, specifically, the lore of the mistletoe?"

"Indeed." He had thought the tale rather odd when Tenpou detailed it to him, but then he thought the same of many aspects of many peoples who were not his own. "Is tumbling from a carelessly-placed stool a part of this particular custom, then?"

"Ahaha no, Sir. It's just that I really can be quite clumsy at times!"

Goujun knew that his subordinate was far from clumsy, obviously, but let the excuse stand unchallenged. "If you are unharmed, then…" He made to step back, withdrawing his arm from about Tenpou.

Tenpou ignored the hint; his hand remained in place at Goujun's shoulder, entirely too familiar quite suddenly. "Ah…Commander?"

Goujun looked down at him, perplexed.

"The mistletoe," Tenpou added helpfully.

Goujun glanced upward again, and back down at Tenpou.

"Mmm…you do realize that you and I are standing beneath it?"

Something warm curled in the pit of Goujun's belly, soft and foreboding. "So it would appear."

"Perhaps you have forgotten the particulars of the mistletoe, then?"

"Upon the resurrection of a god slain by an arrow fashioned of this plant, the mother of that god decreed that henceforth the mistletoe should be a symbol of joy, love and goodwill. Therefrom arose the custom of exchanging a kiss beneath it." That soft warm foreboding stirred again, almost imperceptibly, anticipatory despite itself. He refused to consider that Tenpou should expect him to actually adhere to this bizarre custom, but it was difficult to fathom whatever else he might mean.

"Then"—Tenpou's eyes grew bright and liquid behind his glasses, mouth ripening to something just short of a crestfallen pout—"aren't you going to kiss me, Sir?"

Goujun recoiled slightly, biting back a hiss of disapproval. "Absolutely not," he growled, pushing away from Tenpou's hand, uncaring that the marshal stumbled and fell on his backside in the avalanche of books. "I am—you are—it would be highly inappropriate! Good day." And he swept abruptly out of the office before Tenpou could offer any rebuttal.

He had left without the requisitions that had been his excuse for the visit, but he was not going back. They would keep in the face of Tenpou's brazen behavior, his utterly uncalled-for attempt at—at—

At what, precisely? An intimate overture? A joke? An exploration of cultural traditions outside their own?

Goujun stalked through the halls of the Western Army compound, scowling, chastising himself in hindsight for the severity of his response. He could have reacted with amusement, brushed it off as the joke he ought to have assumed it. He could have honored Tenpou's ridiculous request, given a courtly kiss of regard on the cheek. Instead, he had immediately taken it for romantic intent, seized up with panic, fled most disgracefully.

He trusted his instincts, after all. Tenpou was not the sort to joke or prank in such a manner, not in his experience with the man. Which meant—

Several things were settling with clarity as his thoughts eddied and swirled, a current of insight washing ashore into revelation—the frequency and ease with which Tenpou sought his company, the intensity of Tenpou's eyes upon him during their many conversations, the subtle brightening of Tenpou's scent over time.

Tenpou was infatuated with him at the very least, Goujun was beginning to see, and he was distressed at how little the realization appalled him.

He was Goujun, Dragon King of the Western Seas, Commander of the Western Army of Heaven, and in no position to entertain amorous advances from any quarter, particularly from those under his command. And yet.

The idea of Tenpou's interest was undeniably appealing.

Which meant Goujun found Tenpou appealing, in more ways than he had previously cared to admit.

Something in his chest fluttered, spread fledgling wings of joy that even in this, perhaps especially in this, the two of them were in concert. They rode the same winds in so many regards—to think that they were matched in attraction as well, it thrilled him even as it filled him with dread.

His own burgeoning interest had been easily ignored, a self-told tale of appreciation for a kindred spirit and nothing more—for anything more would be inadvisable. But if Tenpou was like-minded in the full nature of his regard, and willing to act upon it, it became much more difficult for Goujun to disregard what he wanted.

To want it was dangerous.

That did not stop the desire from making itself known.

Goujun shook his head, increased his stride, suppressed an agitated growl. What either of them might want mattered little in the face of duty and pragmatism. The existence of attraction did not necessitate acting upon it, any more than the sweetness of the summer wind necessitated taking flight upon it. An affair between them, however discreet, would be thoroughly inadvisable.

He swept into his own office at last and shut the door behind him, huffed a sigh through his nostrils, eyes closing briefly. His refusal had been appropriate, necessary, but he had perhaps been…needlessly harsh. He would apologize to Tenpou for his abruptness at the next opportunity, and he would make clear in a calm and civil fashion that nothing would come of this shared infatuation.

Nothing could come of it.

Pursuing it would be most unwise.

There were too many eyes about Tenkai, eyes and ears and wagging tongues loyal to the fattest purse, the greatest promise of power. He would not be led to indiscretion on account of interest in a charming and cunning young officer under his command, no matter how engaging his conversation, no matter how pretty his face, no matter how seen Goujun felt in his company. He would not.

He could ill afford such distraction, such attachment, such exploitable weakness.

He would not pursue it.

He almost believed his own conviction.

= Started: 12/5/06 Drafted: 3/6/26 Posted: 3/17/26

Sekai, down below, is a messy place, a chaotic place. This is why dreams exist, some divinities surmise, to allow the pathetic creatures living there to try and make sense of their absurd world and meaningless lives in their sleep…

Whereas Tenkai? Beautiful. Quiet. Orderly and perfect. Souls are blessed and untroubled, there.

Therefore, kamis don’t dream.

(Usually.)

For a while, Kenren-taishou hadn’t even had the words for this fake reality invading his sleep and leaving behind a strange taste to his waking hours…

Always the same images.

The overpowering sound of the falling rain, its cold hitting his bare shoulders as he walks. Darkness, the road, the man on the ground. Lying there, face down. Bleeding. He knows who it is. At once. Kenren just… knows. And when the wounded man reveals his face, and smiles… It’s even worse to be proven right.

Waking up, heart pounding, breathing hard. Reaching for the pack of cigarettes to chase the smell of wet earth and metallic blood still very present in his nostrils… It’s his morning routine, now…

Yume. He’s found the word in one of Tenpou’s beloved books. Dream.

But having a name to put on the phenomena doesn’t really help. So he distracts himself some other ways, accepts to run ridiculous errands for Tenpou on Earth below to fill his days between military missions and duties. So he forgets to sleep. (After all, kamis don’t really need to.)

That day, when he comes back home, with a small stock of Tenpou’s favourite cigarette’s brand, he’s in a reasonably high mood. Doesn’t even knock before making his way into Tenpou’s library. Still stops dead, though.

Obviously a tree standing in Tenpou’s office is not the weirdest thing Kenren-taishou has seen in his superior officer’s place. Plus he’s the one who got ropped into dragging it in here a few days ago, so, there’s that. (Yes, Tenpou had tried to explain. No, Kenren is still not sure he gets this Sekai “Chrissmass” thing and the point of it. Though he kinda liked the way the word had curled the marshal’s lips, so unfamiliar on his tongue, and the twinkle of delight it created in the man’s green eyes.) What’s more incongruous is the treatment Goku is inflicting on it. He must have zoned out when Tenpou explained, because he can’t fathom why the gaki is basically dressing the poor piece of vegetation in tinsel and adorning it with shiny stuff…

While the kid, back to him and still unaware of his presence, chatters his heart out to his Ten-chaaaaan!, asking of him his thoughts on his efforts, Tenpou stands right there, a faint contented smile floating on his lips and curling around an unlit cigarette.

Kenren sighs indulgently (he sometimes suspects Tenpou would forget his head weren’t it attached to his body), drops his package on a low table and draws closer to his superior officer in order to offer him his lighter.

Tenpou, after bending his neck a little to meet the flame, smiles his thanks, expression for once uncomplicated and somewhat almost blinding for it.

Kenren reflexively smiles back.

“Tadaima,” the general says, a tad too soft.

“Okaeri,” Tenpou replies, oddly solemn, and oh-so warm…

And sometimes, they just don’t need more words. Both lapse into silence, watching Goku have his fun.

There’s a soft sound, then, that comes from a corner of the room. The one of a page turned.

Oh, the blond grouch his there, too.

Curled on Tenpou’s office chair, his long legs tucked under him in a slightly bizarre way, at Tenpou’s desk, nose deep in one of Tenpou’s books. Kenren can’t help but think he’s out of place here. But where would Konzen-douji be if not far from his little charge, right?

Must have felt the weight of the general’s gaze, too, because the blond sourpuss raises his eyes after a few seconds.

His nose does this frowning thing, and Konzen glares a bit, too, as if he objected to the just lit cigarettes: he has a vague gesture of the hand as if to chase the delicate smoke that hasn’t even reached him yet, Kenren is sure.

Heaven forbid Konzen would look like he was enjoying himself being here, right, once he’d noticed he was watched…

But Kenren had seen.

For once there’d been this inabitual bubble of calm around Kanzeon-bosatsu’s nephew, very unlike this ever present buzz of irritation surrounding the man at any given time that often gets under Kenren’s skin.

The general could go at it, needle the man a bit. Changes his mind, though, and turns his attention back to Tenpou.

“Hey,” he simply calls, reaching for something tiny in his leather coat’s pocket and throwing it in the marshal’s direction.

He brings back little odd things from down below Tenpou hasn’t asked for, sometimes. Can’t help it, the marshal is so easily delighted…

The marshal snatches it from mid-air without much effort, in spite of his sloppy appearance. People forget, sometimes, that Tenpou is a soldier, a very good fighter at that, with the good reflexes it entails.

In his palm, a little sphere, something golden and delicately inlaid, with only a tiny slit on the metal and a tiny little ring to hang it, probably. Tenpou grabs it with two fingers to raise it closer to his eyes.

And they have drawn the kid’s attention too, now :

“A new christmas ornament? How did you know!” Goku exclaims, already reaching for the little thing.

But Kenren grabs him by the scruff of his scrawny neck. He loves the kid. To pieces. Still… and it feels ridiculous to say it out loud, but :

“It was for you,” he tells the marshal who was about to let the itan child have the gift. “It sings,” he awkwardly adds, then.

With his chibi saru-free hand, the general sends a finger nudge the thing in Tenpou’s grasp, and as he knew it would, the little ball hidden inside the golden shell moves, eliciting a delicate little sound.

“Yes, it would be wasted, just hanging still on a branch,” the marshal eventually acquiesces, brows already furrowed in reflexion, eyes invisible behind the harsh reflexion off his glasses. And without warning, he’s a flurry of activity. In three strides, he’s near a startled Konzen, reaching over him for a drawer, fishing into it, of all things, for a little ball of thin but solid wire and a little pincer.

It takes him hardly three seconds to figure out a way to fasten the sphere on the wire and create a little hook at the other end. Then, the marshal’s hands fly to the side of his head.

Not even a hint of hesitation, and he’s piercing skin and flesh pushing the metal through the little round part, till the gold orb hangs at his ear.

Kenren stays stunned for a full second. He hadn’t seen this one coming. But in the little things like the big, Tenpou is sometimes reckless to a point that could scare a lesser man than the general. (Who he is he kidding? Totally and indubitably scares him when he ventures to think about it.)

“What do you think? You said it was for me, right?” Tenpou says, smiling a bit like a proud loon around this cigarette he has managed to keep between his lips all along. He turns his head a little on his slender neck to show off, and a little ringing sound comes out the little sphere as if to gently underline the gesture.

It allows for Kenren’s hand to find the side of this face, on the pretence of angling it for a better sight.

A pearl of redness gathers at the puncture wound and collapses on itself, truly miniscule rivulet down the abused lobe.

It’s  nothing, but it’s like a jolt to Kenren…

And the familiar images come, unbidden, while he’s still wide awake this time.

The overpowering sound of the falling rain, its cold hitting his bare shoulders—

Gravity makes its office, and the scarlet drop hits the shoulder of Tenpou’s labcoat. (Shocking) little flower.

“Chi.” Goku says, his little face raised to them. Tone odd.

There’s something in the way the kid’s nostril flare. Something flinty, for a second, obscures his golden gaze, suddenly metallic instead of warm. He’s like a different being for a second, one who could could inspire terror.

But the flash on the gaki’s features is so brief it feels like Kenren has just imagined this, that he can blame his already frayed nerves…

And the general doesn’t know what takes over him. He gathers the marshal to him by way of grabbing his labcoat, and leans in, on an impulse, towards the man. Till his lips are on Tenpou’s earlobe. The iron-y salt of blood and the tiniest hint of a real metal’s taste mingle on his tongue. He feels his officer still. And tense. Tenpou’s hand is suddenly on his arm, its message unclear. Stop. Or… Don’t you dare stop. Kenren wouldn’t know. Maybe Tenpou doesn’t either.

Goku, oblivious anew, saves them from public awkwardness, dragging his Ten-chan back to their tree… Since they are not conversing anymore, it must be alright for him to get back his friend to keep him to himself.

Kenren decides not to acknowledge how suddenly bereft he feels.

Also, now it’s on his tongue that the taste of blood lingers.

The overpowering sound of the falling rain, its cold hitting his bare shoulders, the darkness the road and the dying man, bleeding and smi—

Stop, the general tells himself, feeling uneasy. Now the dark thoughts hunt him even awake… What the hell is happening to him?

He feels a gaze on him and, whip-sharp, his head turns on his neck, catching Konzen’s eyes.

It’s a frown subtly different from the usual scowl, on the blond’s face. More considering. Almost… worried. And directed at him.

How odd, Kenren thinks.

But already the divine bureaucrat is averting his eyes. He has surprised Konzen’s eyes on him, and the blond god is probably as embarrassed at having been caught looking as Kenren himself is by his own lapse of attention, by how he has let his own discomfort show…

But he’s a soldier. He knows tactics. He knows… diversion.

He pastes his patented shit-eating grin on his face, and with a jerk of his chin, indicates Tenpou.

“Ever told you how I met him, Goldie?” And Konzen frowns a little, not entirely duped but curious nonetheless. “Came into his office and found him buried under piles of his own books.”

The great Konzen-douji can’t help a particularly unelegant snort.

“That would have been such a stupid way to lose him,” Konzen manages to offer. His book is definitively forgotten on his crossed legs.

“Heh. There an intelligent way?” Kenren needles.

It’s a just glance, that’s thrown his way. A flash of violet. But with a might and a steel you wouldn’t be used to, thinking of the spoiled nephew of the great Kanzeon-bosatsu. Surpringly, it cows Kenren the tiniest little bit.

“Yeah, no way we’re losing Tenpou,” the general weakly agrees, hardly above a whisper. Because the alternative is unthinkable. “Not that this itan kid of yours is better anyway at staying out of trouble,” he still feels the need to retaliate.

Over there near the tree, the marshal is giving a boost to the heretic child in question so he can reach the higher branches. Tenpou’s move makes the little sphere at his ear tinkle again.

It derails them both a little:

“Like a bell on a cat,” Konzen unexpectedly comments, and there’s something speculative in his gaze as it then flies to his charge, like it gives him an idea, and in a way, Kenren gets why. How tempting it would be to be able to always know where the kid is, be sure to be able not to lose him.

Kenren has spoken about this with Tenpou more than once. They’re just like Konzen. The three of them feel it, that unclear menace gathering around this kid. Even in this perfect place Heaven is supposed to be.

When has Paradise stopped being Paradise?

But then Goku says something that unexpectedly wrenches a surprised laugh out of Tenpou, and as the marshal’s body shakes in delighted mirth and he throws his head back, the little bell once again jingles.

And for a second, Kenren is able to forget the disturbing thoughts. He just drinks the sight.

Tenkai is paradise once again. A place where souls are supposed to be blessed and untroubled.

Tenpou: That was difficult, wasn’t it? No matter how many time I adjusted the proportions of the soy sauce and the pudding, I was not able to distill the soy sauce I’d poured onto the pudding.

Kenren: Make what you like, as long as you don’t upset your stomach. How slovenly it would seem for a Field Marshal to be locked up all day long in the toilet!

Tenpou: No worries! I’ve prepared some stomach medicine.

Kenren: You’d go that far for your cooking experiments? Why not just buy some caviar like normal people? You’re a Field Marshal after all. Your salary should be quite all right, shouldn’t it?

Tenpou: Unfortunately, I’m flat broke because I spend my salary on books. Besides, since I went to great pains to procure this peculiar collection of recipes titled “The Next Adventurer Is You”, there’s a variety of food combinations I’d like to try.

Kenren: Hah, so that’s how it is.

Tenpou: Yes, that’s how it is. All right, here goes. I’m adding lots of fermented squid paste to the yogurt....

Kenren: Hmm, it does not look very appetizing.

Tenpou: Well, you won’t know whether it’s delicious or not unless you try eating it. (eats up the unholy mix)

Kenren: How is it?

Tenpou: It’s... not great. Or rather, if I speak further, it’ll come out–

Kenren: I told you so. Here, wash it down with some water.

Tenpou: Thank you. Ah, I probably used too much yogurt. I’ll try again with less yogurt.

Kenren: Are you still at it?! Quit it already. I mean, why don’t we just have some drinks as usual?

Tenpou: What are you saying? Our drinking party has already begun.

Kenren: It already has? Where are the drinking snacks?

Tenpou: This here is the snack – the fermented squid paste.

Kenren: That’s the paste you’ve just mixed with the yogurt!

Tenpou: Don’t hold back.

Kenren: I’m not holding back!

(Someone knocks on the door.)

Tenpou: Yes?

Konzen: It’s me. I’m coming in.

Tenpou: It’s rare for you to visit at this time of the day, Konzen. What’s the matter?

Konzen: I’m here to return a book I borrowed. Are you two having an evening drink?

Tenpou: Yes, we are. Isn’t it obvious just by looking?

Kenren: It’s because he couldn’t tell just by looking that he had to ask.... Anyway, you’ve come at the right time. Why not have a drink together once in a while, Konzen? Have a seat!

Tenpou: How about some fermented squid paste as well?

Konzen: Is this even edible?

Kenren: Give it a pass. You’ll just upset your stomach otherwise.

Konzen: I know just by looking at it. I don’t need you to tell me that. (sits down)

Tenpou (pours Konzen a drink): There you go – a full glass to begin with.

Konzen (gulps his drink): Actually, aside from returning the book, I came here for some advice.

Kenren: About what? That’s quite rare coming from you.

Konzen: I didn’t think you’d be here too.

Kenren: Two heads are better than one, you know.

Konzen: It’s about Goku.

Tenpou: What about him?

Konzen: Aside from Nataku, there are no kids his age in Heaven. That’s why he’s always playing by himself – how should I put it –

Kenren: Ah, so Daddy is worried that Goku’s feeling lonely.

Konzen: Who’re you calling Daddy?

Tenpou: If that’s the case, why don’t you play with him yourself, Konzen?

Konzen: I tried keeping him company once. The next day, my muscles hurt so much that I could not move.

Kenren: Ah. Well, it’s certainly tough for Konzen to keep up with such an energetic, care-free companion.

Tenpou: Still, a kid’s education is outside of our area of expertise. At times like this, we’ll have to rely on books. Ah, it should be around here–

Kenren: Oi, don’t pull out the books with that much force! They’ll fall down on you again!

Tenpou: I’ll be fine. I’ll just move these out of the way– ah!

(Sound of books falling down.)

Tenpou: Just pretend you didn’t see that.

Konzen: Is it always like that with him?

Kenren: Yeah. It got so extreme that at one point, as soon as I opened the door, books just slid out like an avalanche.

Tenpou: Let me see... I’ve got it. This is the book I was looking for.

Konzen: Hmm? ‘Club Memory’?

Kenren: What sort of book is that?

Tenpou: It’s a popular magazine in the mortal realm filled with useful information about child rearing.

Kenren: Why do you have such a thing in your possession?

Tenpou: Chance favors the prepared mind. [Lit.: Those who are prepared avoid grief.] (flips through the pages and reads out the contents) Children’s games can be categorized into two types: outdoor games and indoor ones. Goku usually prefers outside activities such as climbing trees or playing tag. So how about letting him play indoor games for a change?

Konzen: Indoor games?

Tenpou: Paper folding, cat’s cradle, puzzles– ah, what about something like this? It’s called ‘playing house.’

Kenren: ‘Playing house’? What’s that?

Tenpou: It’s a game that is good for cultivating sensibility in children. It instills vocabulary and teaches them how to use daily items.

Kenren: Eh, it sounds perfect for Goku.

Tenpou: Besides, Goku has hardly played with anyone indoors. I think he will enjoy this.

Kenren: Well, it certainly doesn’t sound like a game for which one would need to use physical strength. How about giving it a try for once?

Konzen: But I don’t know how to play this game.

Tenpou: Don’t worry about that. Since I happen to be off duty tomorrow, I’ll be there to teach you.

Kenren: I don’t have anything planned in particular tomorrow either, so I’ll come along.

Konzen: Fine with me.

Kenren: By the way, what else is in that magazine? It looks very bulky....

Tenpou: Hmm. ‘A Complete Walkthrough for Struggling Mothers,’ ‘How to Compose a Perfect Email Response,’ ‘Methods for Taking Pictures that Will Net a Large Amount of Likes on Your Blog,’ ‘A Compilation of Games in the Park’ – and so forth.

Konzen: You’ve lost me entirely.

Tenpou: No matter in which era, child-rearing is a tough job for mothers, isn’t it?

Kenren: From whose standpoint are you speaking?

--------

Goku: Hey Konzen, why can’t I go outside to play today?

Konzen: Never mind that. Just shut up and sit down.

Goku: That’s boring! I want to play!

Konzen: You’re noisy! I told you to be quiet and wait, didn’t I?

Goku: Eh?!

(The door opens.)

Kenren: Oh, you’re as lively as ever today. I’m coming in.

Tenpou: Pardon the intrusion.

Goku: Ken nii-chan! Ten-chan!

Konzen: You guys are late!

Kenren: Sorry. It took Tenpou a while to wake up.

Tenpou: My bad for staying up all night yesterday....

Kenren: Didn’t we end our drinking party earlier than usual last night? Ah, could it be that you stayed up reading again?

(Tenpou laughs sheepishly.)

Goku: What’s the matter, you two?

Kenren: We just thought we’d come play with you, Goku.

Goku: Really! What should we play? Baseball? Hide-and-seek?

Tenpou: Baseball and hide-and-seek are fun too, but shall we try a different game today?

Kenren: Together with Konzen too, okay?

Goku: Eh? Konzen too? Really?

Konzen: Yes.

Goku: Yay! So, what are we gonna play?

Tenpou: Let’s play house.

Goku: ‘Play house’? What’s that?

Konzen: All right! Seems like he’s never played it before.

Kenren: Seems so.

Goku: Hey, what’s ‘play house’?

Tenpou: It’s a pretend play, Goku. The players take on the roles of the father, the mother or the children.

Goku: Hmm... I see.

Kenren: Oh, you already understand how it’s played, Goku?

Goku: Not really, but it sounds interesting.

Kenren (chuckles): So you don’t really understand. Well, let’s try it for once, shall we?

Tenpou: Indeed. First, let’s decide on our roles. It’s based on my arbitrary judgment and bias, but Goku should–

Goku: I want to be the Meat Bun Man!

Tenpou: –play the role of the mother.

Goku: I’m the mother?

Tenpou: As for the role of the father, I’ll let Konzen do the honors.

Konzen: Hah? Why me?

Tenpou: Don’t you want to make Goku happy?

(Konzen mumbles unintelligibly.)

Kenren: What about me?

Tenpou: You’ll play the son.

Goku: Ken nii-chan is my son? Then, that means I’m more important than him? Yay!

Kenren (in a low voice): Seriously?

Tenpou: I’ll be the narrator and monitor the progress, okay?

Kenren: Monitor the progress? Aren’t we just going to play as we like based on our assigned roles?

Tenpou: The three of you are beginners at playing house. If you play as you like, you’re unlikely to reach the proper conclusion. ** For this reason, I’ve prepared this.

Konzen: What’s that?

Tenpou: It’s the script. It contains the character descriptions and the storyline I’ve created for today’s game.

Kenren: That’s the reason you stayed up all night....

Tenpou: This time, let’s play by following along this script!

Goku: All right!

Tenpou: Ah, as for you, you don’t have to follow along the script, Goku.

Goku: Eh? Is that okay?

Tenpou: Yes. Since the purpose of playing house is for children to learn various things via practice, please play as you like.

Goku: I don’t really get it, but okay!

Kenren: I guess it’s more fun that way.

Konzen: Indeed.

--------

Tenpou: Once, there was a pretty ordinary family of consisting of a father, a mother and a son. The son’s name was Kenren. However, their happiness did not last long. The father and the mother got divorced. The father got the custody of Kenren. Afterward, the father remarried. The new wife was more than twenty years younger than him. Kenren and his stepmother were not related by blood–

Kenren and Konzen: Hold on for a second!

Tenpou: Yes?

Konzen: Which part of such a scenario is conducive for cultivating sensibility?

Kenren: Doesn’t it sound like some trendy daytime soap? Wouldn’t it be better to just stick to a simpler scenario?

Tenpou: What are you two saying? The fun of playing house depends on how well-crafted the scenario is. By the way, the father works at a brokerage firm. This year is his twentieth year of continuous employment there. A straight-laced veteran.

Kenren: ‘Straight-laced’ does describe Konzen in real life.

Konzen: Oi!

Goku: Hey, what’s the matter? Hurry up and continue!

Tenpou: All right, all right. You two, Goku is getting bored, so I’ll carry on.

(Kenren and Konzen gasp in frustration.)

Tenpou (clears his throat): The stepmother is young but hardworking. She performs the housework all by herself. At the moment, she is doing the laundry.

Goku: Er, laundry? All I have to do is soak the clothes in water and hang them out to dry, right? Eh... there are no clothes here, so would it be fine if I soak these documents instead?

Konzen: How could that be fine, stupid monkey! (hits Goku)

Goku: That hurts! This is DVD!

Tenpou: Close, but not quite right. The correct term is DV – domestic violence, Goku.

Kenren: Where did he pick up such a word?

Goku: Ten-chan taught me a lot of words the other day.

Konzen: You teach him nothing but nonsense.

Tenpou: Uh, according to the script, while Goku is doing the laundry, the son comes home. This is supposed to result in an uneasy tension between the son and the stepmother who are not related by blood.

Kenren: Uneasy tension? What do you intend to make us do here?

Tenpou: I want to show the typical behavior of a child in his rebellious phase. Whatever Goku says to Kenren falls on deaf ears.

Kenren: Why such an unpleasant atmosphere? Why not just have the son and the stepmother get along with each other?

Tenpou: If the stepson and the second wife were to get along, the flow of the story I came up with would end up ruined. (sighs) It can’t be helped. Well then, let’s skip the afternoon scene and go straight to the basic element of playing house: the scene in which the family sit down together for dinner.

Konzen: You should’ve done that from the start!

Tenpou: It appears to be a usual family dinner until the father, Konzen, announces his decision to quit his job.

Kenren and Konzen: Oi!

Goku: Eh? Konzen is quitting his job?

Konzen: Don’t narrate the story as if I’m actually quitting my job! Tenpou!

Tenpou: Since this is our first time playing house, I think it would be better if an incident is to occur.

Kenren: Is playing house really like this?

Goku: So, if Konzen quits, what is going to happen?

Tenpou: There, Konzen. At any rate, please continue playing. Your lines are written in the script.

Konzen: Really! (flips through the pages) “Today, I submitted my letter of resignation at my workplace.”

Kenren: “Hah?”

Goku: Letter of resignation?

Konzen: “I have something else I wish to do. That is why I quit my job. No matter what your objection is at this point in time, my decision will remain unchanged.”

Kenren: “Well, I’ve yet to voice out any complaint, but what is this thing that you wish to do?”

Konzen: “Ra–”

Goku: Ra–?

Konzen: “Ramen restaurant. I’ll open a ramen restaurant.”

(The door opens.)

Kanzeon: That’s the first time I hear of you wanting to open a ramen restaurant.

Konzen: Eeek!

Goku: Ah!

Tenpou: Kanzeon Bosatsu!

Kenren: Another unbelievable turn of the situation....

Kanzeon: What are you four doing gathering around here in silence?

Tenpou: We’re playing house for the sake of cultivating Goku’s sensibility. Konzen is the father, Goku is the mother, Kenren is the son and I’m the narrator. By the way, in the scenario we’re playing, the mother and the son is not related by blood.  

Kenren: We’re not making much progress, though, thanks to the script being full of absurdities.

Kanzeon: Sounds interesting. I’ll join.

Konzen: Hah? What are you saying, shitty hag?

Goku: You’ll play with us? Yay!

Kenren: But... is there any role left?

Tenpou: We could have hir play the former wife.

Kanzeon: Hmm, Konzen’s ex? All right, I’ll take it.

Konzen: I have a bad feeling about this.

Tenpou: Well then, let’s pick up where we left off.

Kenren (clears his throat): “What were you thinking, quitting your job all of a sudden?”

Goku: If we run a ramen restaurant, I can eat as much ramen as I want! I agree with Konzen’s decision!

Kenren: “I object! We’re talking about a guy who doesn’t even cook. No way he would be able to successfully run a ramen restaurant!”

Goku: Oh, it’s true that the ramen Konzen makes is not very delicious....

Konzen: “We can just serve cup instant ramen.”

Goku: Aha, that’s right!

Kenren: “What sort of ramen restaurant would that be?”

Kanzeon: “You guys haven’t changed at all.”

Kenren: “Mo– mother!” (to himself) I had a hard time with this line.... **

Konzen: “You, how dare you show up here!”

Goku: “Welcome!”

Kanzeon: “Once again, you’ve picked a type that is totally different from me.”

Konzen: “After all this time, what is your reason for coming here?”

Kanzeon: “I’ve come here to take Kenren with me.”

Kenren: “Hah?”

Goku: “Never! Ken nii-chan is a precious member of this family. Don’t just take him away as you please!”

Kanzeon: “It’s better for a child to be with his biological mother. Isn’t it, Kenren?”

Kenren: “Actually, I’m fine with the way things are now.”

Goku: “No, no! Ken nii-chan is my child!”

Konzen (sighs and mutters to himself): What’s this farce?

Tenpou: “Wait a minute!”

Kenren: Hah? T–tenpou?

Kanzeon: Who the hell are you?

Tenpou: “How heartless of you, section manager Konzen! You told me I was the only one, but you’re actually married. And not for the first time either!”

Goku: Eh? Eh? What’s going on here? Is Ten-chan also Konzen’s wife?

Kenren: The ex-wife, the current wife and the mistress.... You’ve really come up with a hackneyed scenario straight out of a daytime soap.

Konzen: Er, Tenpou, don’t you think we’ve had enough–

Tenpou: “You deceived me! You’re the worst! I mean, what’s so great about this middle-aged woman here? What a bad taste she has in fashion, too!”

(The door opens.)

Jiroushin: Pardon my intrusion. Is Kanzeon Bosatsu here–

Kanzeon: “What are you going to say next? Don’t think of bragging of your conquest, husband-stealer!”

Tenpou: “You’re the one to talk! Don’t you feel embarrassed wearing such a revealing dress at your age?”

Kanzeon: “Heh. Aren’t you just jealous of my figure?”

Tenpou: “What did you just say? I’m not jealous! My complexion is smoother than yours!”

Kenren: What impressive ad-libs.... (to Konzen) Hey, what are you gonna do, “husband”?

Konzen: Who are you calling “husband”? How would I know?

Jiroushin: Er–

Kanzeon: Ah, Jiroushin. What’s the matter?

Jiroushin: What are you doing?

Kanzeon: Playing house.

Jiroushin: Playing house? What is that? Well, never mind. Kanzeon Bosatsu, you need to return to your office.

Kanzeon: Come on, why not let me stay here for just a bit more–

Jiroushin: I can’t do that! Documents that have passed the deadlines are piling up. If you neglect them any further, we’ll receive complaints from the various departments–

Kanzeon: Tch. It can’t be helped, then. Well, I’ve had my fun killing time, so I’ll go back now. See you guys later.

Goku: Bye-bye!

(The door creaks as Kanzeon and Jiroushin leave.)

Kenren: Uh–

(Konzen sighs.)

Tenpou: That was exciting, wasn’t it?

Kenren: Well, it was exciting indeed, but it wasn’t educational at all, was it?

Konzen: Not at all.

Kenren: Sorry that things turned out like this, Goku. Let’s go play baseball outside, shall we?

Goku: I don’t really understand what has happened, but it’s been a long time since I last got to play with Konzen. Also, I got to play with the two of you too, so it was a lot of fun for me!

Tenpou: Goku....

Kenren: That’s what he said, “Daddy”.

Konzen: Tch.

Goku: Moreover, playing house was fun too.

Tenpou: Was it? Then, let’s redo the scenario for next time.  We’ll go with “The Field Marshall Saw It All: The Hidden Secret Behind the General’s Grand Life”–

Kenren and Konzen: Forget it!

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