Morning

“Sanzou? Sanzou? Sanzouuuuu~!”

Sanzou slept, unresponsive to the pleading whine. If the damn monkey didn’t leave him alone, he’d have no one to blame but himself for the bullet in his brain, because he knew Sanzou didn’t like having his sleep disturbed.

“Sanzouuuuuuu!”

Small hands pawed restlessly at his blanket, and then weight settled on his legs. Sanzou kept his eyes shut, even when the pressure crawled slowly up the length of him, and settled heavily on his stomach. “Sanzou, I’m hungry. I want breakfast.”

Then go get it yourself, stupid monkey, he wanted to say. But that would mean opening his eyes and admitted he was awake–which he was not. Genjou Sanzou was very much asleep.

“You’re not really asleep, are you, Sanzou?” The annoying brat wriggled up higher, so that his knees now bracketed Sanzou’s ribs. It took all his training, every ounce of dignity, not to curl his lip and snarl when little fingers patted his face cautiously.

“You are, aren’t you!” The not-question sounded betrayed. “But, Sanzou, I’m hungry!”

Sanzou didn’t budge. The stupid monkey had proven, more than once, that he was entirely capable of taking matters into his own hands when he wanted food. On his chest, the pressure wriggled consideringly, and then the idiot sighed deeply, as though he were the one being inconvenienced.

“I want persimmons,” he said, sulky. “Hakkai would feed me, but all you do is sleep, Sanzou, you jerk!” Abruptly, he began to pound his small fists against Sanzou’s chest–not hard enough to bruise, or even hurt, despite his true strength. Irritated, Sanzou finally gave up–there was no way he’d be able to continue sleeping like this.

He caught both of the monkey’s thin wrists and held them firmly. They twisted slightly, but did not break free. When he finally opened his eyes and looked up, a hopeful little face peered right back.

“Gokuu,” he said, eminently reasonable, “get the fuck off of me.”

It earned him a pout. “But, Sanzou, I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry.” Sanzou looked at him flatly, then twitched like he was going to get up. Eagerly, the monkey slid off and stood by his pallet, bouncing eagerly on his heels. Sanzou sat up, stared blearily at the weak patch of sunlight that escaped his tightly-drawn shades, and stood. Bones popped and joints cracked–he hated waking up, because it made him feel old.

The damn monkey, however, made him feel ancient.

The monkey opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, Sanzou snatched him up by the collar of his too-large shirt and hauled him over to the door. When the monkey looked up at him with surprised golden eyes, he deposited the idiot firmly over the threshold and closed the door firmly in place.

“Eh? Huh? HEY! Sanzou, wait a minute!” The exclamation was punctuated by several sharp knocks.

Click went the lock. “If you’re so hungry, have breakfast with the rest of the idiots,” Sanzou said flatly. “I’m taking today off.” He headed back to his bed, dropping the key under his pillow, right next to his gun.

“Sanzouuuuuu!” The dumb monkey knocked on the door a little longer, kicked it a few times, before there was a heavy thump and slide. “Stupid jerk.” The sulkiness of his tone spoke volumes.

Pleased, Sanzou rolled over and went back to sleep.

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