Moon Rising by Stage
Summary: [58, sequel to “Sunset”] In which Gojyo convinces Hakkai that chasing the sunset isn't always a bad thing...but not without some angst.
Rating: PG-13
Categories: Saiyuki
Characters: Cho Hakkai, Sha Gojyo
Genres: Angst, Romance
Warnings: M/M, Language
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 04/27/05
Updated: 06/07/05
Index
Chapter 1: One of two
Chapter 2: Ambush
Chapter 1: One of two
Disclaimer: Saiyuki belongs to very rich people and I am very poor in comparison.
*
Gojyo liked the moon, always had. He would steal out of the house, clambering onto the roof to greet the great orange penny as it awoke to the world. Sometimes, it was pure white and other evenings, it was dusty rose as if it had tried to match Gojyo for a change. Sometimes it was large and ominous, sometimes small and shy...but the moon was always there. Even on the nights of the new moon when it snuggled down in shadows for a rest, Gojyo knew it was there. Reliable and steadfast, Gojyo planned his nights by the moon.
On full moons, he pushed and tugged himself to the edge during cards.
On the Cheshire-cat nights, he dared to pick up the prettiest woman in the bar.
On new moons, Gojyo took his beers on the roof, toasting the moon for it's month of hard work.
On blue moons, Gojyo cleaned house.
The moon rose one night, dusky scarlet and Cheshire cat-like and Gojyo picked up a stranger on the side of the road. Later, he would look back and wonder if the moon knew more than it let on.
Hakkai had fallen in step with Gojyo's quirks and habits, saying nothing but always close behind with painkillers or soap and water or whatever the situation called for. He didn't ask about the nights Gojyo spent on the roof. He was startled upon finding Gojyo cleaning the apartment one month, but only smiled and retreated. He began to pick up on the method, disappearing the nights when the moon grinned down at the world or leaving the largest grocery list for the nights of full moons. New moon nights, Hakkai appeared to help Gojyo off of the roof, but he could never quite grasp the cleaning concept. Gojyo knew that Hakkai hadn't realized what dictated his behavior and a small bit of him was glad for it. He liked his new roommate and friend, but it wasn't often that Hakkai was stumped, leaving Gojyo with his privacy.
As the secrets diminished between them and Banri's thugs had been disposed of, Gojyo came to a conclusion: Hakkai was the moon. He was ever present when Gojyo needed him and had a certain order to when or why he appeared. Hakkai had his inconsistencies, times where he wrapped himself up and vanished from the present; the rainy nights mostly. But he never abandoned.
So as Gojyo watched his friend curl upon himself with an almost imperceivable shiver, he knew it was time that he intervened.
Not bothering to be quiet or courteous, Gojyo swung himself over the edge of the bed, stalking over to the other bed in the room. Hakkai started at the forceful grip on his shoulder, staring upwards.
“Get up, Hakkai.”
“What? Gojyo–”
“Get up.” Gojyo growled, nearly hauling Hakkai to his feet.
Puzzled, Hakkai obeyed the steering hand on his shoulder. He reached for his monocle.
“Leave it.”
“Gojyo,” Hakkai began, eyes darting. “Is something the matter?”
“Hakkai, I want you to listen to me very closely.”
He blinked. “Very well, Gojyo. You have my full attention.”
“Cut it out.”
“I'm sorry?”
“Stop with the angst. It's bullshit. You know it is.”
“Gojyo, if you'll pardon me,” Hakkai replied, pulling himself from Gojyo's grip. “It is none of your business.”
Stiff. Gojyo frowned. Hakkai had gone stiff, acidic, on him. Not good.
Gojyo growled, grabbing Hakkai in the most forceful grip he could manage. “It is my business, you damn fool.”
“I don't want to hurt you.” Hakkai replied evenly, but Gojyo could see the madness sneaking into the corner of his eyes. “Let go of me.”
Gojyo hauled him forward, until they were nose to nose. “Try it.” He challenged.
Hakkai remained still.
“Now what the fuck has got you all worked up?”
Hakkai glanced away, eyes taking in the rectangular patch of silver on the floor. He spoke slowly. “It's a legend that sleeping in the moonlight is bad luck.”
What? “What?”
Emerald eyes returned to him. “ 'I am too much in the sun.'” He replied. “Or, would it be more appropriate to say, 'I am too much in the moon'?”
“Your point, Hakkai?”
A smile. “I'm the moon, Gojyo.”
Gojyo blinked widely.
“I'm cold and defaced and nothing more than façades and phony fronts.” His teeth surfaced as he clapped a hand to his stomach. “Nothing will be forgotten and I'm too far gone to even hope for redemption.”
Gojyo caught him by the elbows. “Come here.”
“Gojyo, no–please...”
Ignoring the protests, Gojyo dragged Hakkai until he stood in the patch of moonlight. He stepped back and pointed. “Take it off.”
Hakkai wasn't sure he heard that right.
“Hakkai. Take off your shirt.”
He had.
“Do it or I'll do it for you.”
Casting his eyes aside, Hakkai lifted the long sleeves over his head and let the light material puddle by his feet. Hesitantly, he peeked at Gojyo. The redhead was reclined as he stood, looking over Hakkai carefully as the moonlight spilled over his form. Hakkai frowned; did Gojyo really have no idea what he was doing? Did he really not notice the not-so accidental touches or extra length to gazes?
“So you're tellin' me,” Gojyo began, tossing his hair. “That you're the moon because you're cold and desolate?” He sighed at the nod. “'Kai, you idiot. The moon isn't all bad things. It guides travelers at night with soft light and gentle understanding. Those scars?”–he pointed, and Hakkai winced–“Well, it's lived long and hard and life to the fullest and so what if a few marks show on the surface? In the face of such great beauty, who the hell's got the audacity to get hung up on something stupid like that?”
Hakkai's silence tricked Gojyo into thinking that he had won, but then, “But it isn't the moon's light with which it shines. It steals something from others and manipulates it for it's own selfish purposes.” He replied quietly with a brittle grin.
“It takes from the sun,” Gojyo countered. “It converts the hot, burning light and processes it until it's soft and easy to stand in. It guides children to nightmare-less nights and travelers to an inn where they can rest easy from the trail. Hakkai, if you're the moon, then Sanzo's the sun.”
Hakkai tipped his face. “And you're the sunset.”
Gojyo frowned. “How d'you figure that?” He glanced down at Hakkai's feet as he slid from the moonlight. Gojyo, for a ridiculously frivolous moment, was fixated on his friend's toes. Hakkai never went barefoot; there were always socks or boots or slippers or a blanket tucked around them. Now they were bare, pale and silver in the soft light; delicate with a certain amount of sinewy muscle twisted under the skin's surface. Gojyo held back a snort–really, it was amazing how much Hakkai bared resemblance to a woman.
Hakkai's hands were in his hair, twirling and tangling through the soft locks. “You never make a quiet exit.”
“Is that all? And I was under the impression that it was my eye and hair color...”
“They don't help, certainly.”
“So, what else? What else has me pinned as the sunset?”
“Passion.”
“Passion?”
“Yes.”
Gojyo's bottom lip jutted out and he scratched his head. “Bit of an odd thing to hear from another man, isn't it?”
Hakkai's chuckle, rather than coming out light like he'd intended, was dark and bitter. “I suppose.” He replied. “But you're not one to take things lying down, are you?”
He leered. “That depends on what those 'things' are.”
Something clenched in his chest and Hakkai had to turn away. Surprised, Gojyo grabbed Hakkai's shoulder and prevented him from scurrying away into dark place. Hakkai stiffened at the press of warmth on his back and the almost overwhelming smell of cigarette smoke and summer as it fades into autumn. He knew that Gojyo did not use this much physical contact with anyone else, but trying to make head or tail of it only caused migraines. Hakkai had never minded it before...as he cooked lunch or breakfast or dinner for them...when Gojyo helped him change his bandages...in the pouring rain with Rikudo after their throats...
But now. Now Gojyo was just being a tease. There was only so much strain Hakkai could take before he snapped.
“What's th' matter with you?” Gojyo wanted to know, ducking his head and his hair brushing over Hakkai's cheek and shoulder.
Hakkai was suddenly very aware of being half-naked and he moved for his shirt.
Gojyo's arm slung around his middle and pulled him back. “Nuh uh. Not until you tell me what's got you all worked up.”
“It's nothing.” Hakkai replied, trying to shoulder out of Gojyo's grip.
“It's never 'nothing' with you, Hakkai.”
“And it's always 'something' with you, Gojyo.”
“C'moooon,” Gojyo whined, chin resting on Hakkai's shoulder and another arm wrapping around his friend. “Tell me what's wrong.”
“Please let go of me, or I fear I may do something I will regret.”
Gojyo spun him around, but was met with pale skin, rather than two vivid emerald pools. He frowned, ducking until he was in Hakkai's line of vision. “C'mon, Hakkai, it's just me. What don't I know about'chya?”
Hakkai was only a quarter focused on Gojyo's words. The other three-fourths of him was busy memorizing the feel of calloused fingers on his chin. He was trying to lasso his breathing pattern but stubbornly, it continued to run ragged. And before he could stop himself, Hakkai had reaching forward and cupped Gojyo's scarred cheek, thumb tracing the scars.
“Gojyo...”
“Hakkai?”
Crashing back into reality, Hakkai hissed and shrunk back. Turning, he ran from the room. Ran, Gojyo noted with some surprise. Threw dignity to the wind and nearly wrenched the door off of it's hinges on his rampage. Gojyo stared after Hakkai, unsure how to react.
“Go after him.”
Gojyo jumped and spun around. “Sanzo?” He demanded. “...Where are you?”
“In the next room.” the wall replied. “And you two idiots were loud enough that I could hear everything. Now go get Hakkai, or we're walking west.”
“But I don't even know what the fuck's wrong with him.”
“Just shut the fuck up, kappa, and go.”
With a grumbled curse, Gojyo was out the door and on his way to track down the wayward green-eyed youkai.
TBC
This wasn't supposed to have two parts...but the 58 scurried away from me ^_^;; Oops. Well, I hope you all enjoyed it.
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Chapter 2: Ambush
Finally, eh? Yeah, that's what I thought :D
“Moon Rising,” Part Two of Two
*
Gojyo muttered a string of colorful swears as he combed the hallways of the inn, searching for his wayward friend. He was a curse, really, Hakkai was. A cooking, cleaning, mediating, healing curse, but a curse nonetheless. His sanity danced on a knife's edge, always always always. In Gojyo's opinion, Kanan remained the central figure in Hakkai's life–the fact that she had died over three years ago was an insignificant one. She was what drove Hakkai; drove him to heal, save, and just live. She was the reason for the scar on his abdomen, the youkai limiters on his ear, why Gojyo and Hakkai found each other. It was ironic, the way that the odd couple had ended up and how they interacted with one another...knowing every inch of each other's bodies because of an ex-lover?
Gojyo snorted. This had Kanzeon Bosatsu written all over it.
A light shudder danced down his spine in memory of what he had to do so Sanzo houshi-sama could get a blood donation.
Shaking off the regurgitated history, he impatiently pushed his hair back. His fingers brushed his scars and he paused...Hakkai had always had a soft touch, that's what made him such an excellent teacher and 'mother' to the group. But that particular one, there was something uncommonly tender (and terrified) behind it. Hakkai's voice, if Gojyo remembered right was shaking, a softer version of the strangled scream that had accompanied Yaone's almost-suicide.
Gojyo stopped so short that he toppled forward like a young sapling. She was here. Her spirit was pestering Hakkai again...
He picked up the pace.
*
He liked it here. It was quiet, the crickets had ceased chirping awhile ago. He wondered if this was what it was like to be dead. Was this how his beloved was resting for all time? Or, was she–he remembered with a grimace–being blown about by the wind, never able to rest for one moment?
The roses around him caught his eye and he thought Gojyo. He wrapped his hand around a stem, not remembering the thorns until they cut into his palm, and he gazed at the blood and he still thought Gojyo.
The moon was red–Gojyo.
Apples in a crate–Gojyo.
The poppies they had passed by–Gojyo.
The innkeeper's daughter's blush–Gojyo.
The end of Sanzo's cigarette–Gojyo.
He twisted the climbing vine of a rose around his forearm and knuckles and stared.
*
The taste of flaky tobacco was one of the worst. The thought ran fleetingly through Gojyo's head, trampled and shoved out by his limiters what has he done what has kanan done hakkai don't become gonou again dont leave me with them for the love of the gods stay nearby how can I live without you around to keep me out of trouble and save my sorry ass when I'm in too deep.
Messily, he spat out the tobacco as he sprinted across the courtyard, clearing fountains and benches in one bound. His arms shot out and he grabbed the vine-splattered arm that was visible above the rose bushes.
Hakkai yelped and the thorns sliced into his skin.
Gojyo's breath came out in an explosive sigh. He pulled a clean handkerchief out of his pocket and used it to mop up the blood rivers trickling over pale plains. Gojyo eyeballed Hakkai, telling him that he scared him half to death and you'd better have a good explanation, young man.
Hakkai's teeth surface in a taut, unfriendly grin. “I was only looking at the roses, Gojyo.”
“I thought that you had taken your limiters off.” Gojyo snapped, stuffing the now-crimson cloth back into his pocket.
Hakkai flexed his fingers, eyes fixed on his palms. “No. I don't intend to take those off, ever.”
Gojyo sighed and squatted next to him. “You did for me.”
Hakkai rolled his shoulder uncomfortably. “That was different.”
“How?”
“There was a reason and it couldn't be solved any other way.”
“What if a similar situation arises?”
Hakkai frowned. “It won't.”
“It could.”
“Gojyo–”
“Would you take them off for her?”
Something flickered in Hakkai's–something like a campfire on a rainy day made of wet wood. Stiffly, he rose from his position and distanced himself from Gojyo. With his back turned, he replied in a halting tone.
“No. She would...hate what I've...become. I'm a monster. Kanan disliked...any and everything that killed that...chose to have blood on his or her or it's hands. She would despise and send me away.”
Gojyo crept up behind him and draped a friendly arm over Hakkai's shoulders. “You have a reason, Hakkai. So did Gonou, but it wasn't as noble. Forget it, okay? You're a new man.”
“Gojyo, it's not that simple. I just can't–”
“Yes, you can.”
“Gojyo...” Hakkai murmured, slipping away. “You can't understand...”
“And why's that?” Gojyo asked. “'Cause my mother tried to kill me? Or maybe because I've never had a serious relationship?”
Hakkai's glare was cold. “I had intended to confess that I seem to fall in love with the very people that I should not.”
Gojyo snorted and felt a streak of jealously in him, harsh and searing like prairie fire. He was unsure what caused it, but damned if he cared. “And who might that be, 'Kai? Sanzo?” Gojyo growled, backing Hakkai into a corner of the trellis. “You an' the monk are pretty close for playing the parts of bounty hunter and the hunted.”
A familiar feeling of rage flooded the pit of his stomach and swept up through his chest and throat. His heartbeat became low and steady–kill. Kill. Kill. Hakkai pushed back and his body must have followed, for Gojyo stumbled.
“That,” Hakkai began, slowly and carefully. “Is not who I was referring to.”
Gojyo stared back, fearlessly–or perhaps, stupidly–and when he saw past the anger that flew about like the flame of a sparkler, and into that other, deeply buried emotion, he knew. He knew and his throat constricted. Gojyo held up his hands as if fending off Sanzo's gun. “Ha-Hakkai,” he began, choking on the syllables. “What're you...”
Gojyo started to back off, but Hakkai caught him, pouncing and pinning him against a wall. The youkai in him took over and he growled, a low rumble in his throat that Gojyo could feel reverberate through his body. His breath came in short pants and he blurringly remembered the creature he had seen after Banri had left him to die. The sinuous, graceful creature that was as beautiful as it was deadly. Gojyo's mind told him he should be afraid, but his body squashed that thought as Hakkai claimed his kill.
Gojyo wasn't really sure why he had Hakkai pegged for a tender sort of lover. After all, one had to be kind to be tender and Hakkai...well, it was mostly just a front. Underneath the fake smiles was a tumult of horror and unbridled rage, and a streak of lust that was never seen.
Well, until now. Gojyo amended as insistent fingers tugged at his belt loops.
He pushed back and it became a scuffle. Biting, scratching, and vying for the upper hand. Gojyo had already figured that he was out of his league, but damned if he was going down without a fight. Hakkai growled again and they went tumbling into the rose bushes, tearing into one another with enough force to take down the entirety of Kougaiji's armies. Their clothing didn't stand a chance.
“I love you.” Gojyo ground out before losing all coherency.
*
“Nah, Gojyo?”
“What, saru?”
“What happened to you?”
Gojyo took a deep drag off of his cigarette and rolled his bruised shoulder, which was also littered with thorn punctures. “I got ambushed last night. Didn't stand a chance, ne, Hakkai?”
There was a sparkle in Hakkai's eye, Sanzo noticed, disturbed. “No.”
“Eh? Hakkai, you didn't help him?”
“Oh, he did.” Gojyo replied with a saucy wink. “He helped me out quite a bit.”
“Sanzooooo, what is the ero-kappa talking about?”
Sanzo twitched and cocked his gun. “If I hear one more word...”
“But, Sanzo–”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP.”
In the front of the speeding jeep, Hakkai chuckled merrily. “Everyone's so energetic today...”
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