Disclaimer: I mean no disrespect to copyright laws or the creators and owners of the fabulous Saiyuki characters and merchandise — much of which I consume with enthusiasm. I am writing for pleasure only, and therefore hope to be forgiven. :D

Special note: Explicit m/m sex, spoilers for those who have not seen Saiyuki Reload. Hope that you enjoy the story! Please review or e-mail: dayast_joy@yahoo.com. Also, many thanks to Elvaron for so kindly helping me with my IT problems. I am a bit of a dumbass ape when it comes to the Internet, so thank you for not hitting me with a fan/ shooting me! :D

Summary: Red is the colour of blood, but also of life, love and passion. This is what happens when Kougaiji finally fulfils his destiny and Gojyo embraces his future.


“Mother,” he whispered.

His blood red hair whipped about in the wind, like a killing creature.

Next to him, Yaone tried vainly to hide her tears, arms wrapped protectively around Lirin.

Time stood still.

Behind him the army awaited his command.

He would rather not fight them like this. The four he faced, enemies though they were, deserved the respect of single combat.

He locked gazes with fierce red eyes.

To the world Sha Gojyo looked like a man of little worth beyond battle, a half-breed who indulged in drink, women and gambling.

But of all of them, he loved the most loyally. He might not give voice to his deeper feelings -- apart from quiet moments with Hakkai, the demon prince suspected -- but he saw with his heart rather than his eyes, fought more for his friends than for himself and lived for love more than slaughter.

Kougaiji knew this because, underneath that swagger, the redhead was just like his half-brother.

And for all the enmity between the two groups, it would destroy Gojyo to lose Dokugakuji — no, Jien — who had given the love and protection necessary for him to develop such a soul, when the whole world was determined to damn him because of the crimson colour of his hair and eyes.

It was an impossible choice to make: if he did not resist his stepmother, Dokugakuji would likely be killed for his disobedience and Lirin would be in danger, if he did resist Gyokumen Koshu, the devious woman would find a way to kill his mother.

It had only been a few moments since Yaone’s words had shattered his world, “Gyokumen Koshu needs Lirin’s blood for the final resurrection spell, and she would have killed her own daughter…we escaped, but Dokugakuji had to remain behind to hold off her forces.” She had spoken urgently, explaining why she had intruded so abruptly on dragon-back just when they were facing off to do battle.

Kougaiji clenched his fists.

A small voice in his heart, one that had been getting louder of late, told him that he must fight back now, for the accursed youkai would never keep her word even if her plans succeeded.

And the cost — his friends, his half-sister, his own honour — might destroy him even if he managed to save his mother in the end.

Gojyo, Hakkai and Goku were poised for battle, each hurting with sympathy at the sight of Kougaiji’s terrible inner conflict. They had no heart to fight him, just as they knew he had no heart to fight them of his own will.

Golden eyes flicked towards Sanzo, saw the monk close his eyes…

…Suddenly the world faded before Kougaiji’s eyes as he witnessed a scene from his childhood now almost entirely forgotten as his soul screamed in torment, battling to make an impossible decision…

“Mother!”

Little Kougaiji hid fat, tiny hands, charred from his failed attempts at spell casting, behind his back as he trotted up to his mother.

She was always so sad these days.

She turned and smiled at him, but the joy did not reach her eyes, which had seemed to grow old of late, although her cherished little son always found her incomparably beautiful.

She knelt and gathered him close, her drop ear rings brushing against his long red hair.

Suddenly, she snatched up his hands and gave a little wail of dismay. Tears brimmed in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, mother, I’ll try harder at spell casting, and make you proud,” he said, the words coming from him in a rush.

She pressed the small fingers, a child’s fat little fingers still, to her lips and calmed herself. She was frightening him terribly, she knew.

“Kougaiji, your father and your teachers push you too hard. Promise me you will never put yourself in harm’s way, especially not for my sake. It hurts me to see you in pain,” she said.

“But I want to make you happy. If I get all my spells right, and learn all my lessons, and eat all my food, you’ll be happy won’t you?” big eyes looked imploringly at her, filled with confusion, and love so uncompromising that it made her heart bleed.

How could a woman explain to her child that his father had taken a consort, and that there might be more sons, brothers he would have to kill if he was to claim his crown as Gyuumaou’s first born son and rightful heir?

There was so much good in her child, so much love, and noble intent and fierce will. For once, the Heavens had got it right. What a saviour of a king he would be for his people after his father’s tyrannical rule! Especially now, with the new consort’s naked ambition driving Gyuumaou to greater excesses and violence. Soon, he would challenge Heaven, in his vanity destroying all that they had fought so hard to win.

What then would happen to Kougaiji, with hands so tiny he could not possibly hold such a large destiny?

“Listen carefully, Kougaiji. If you want to make me happy, you must promise me that you will never let anyone corrupt your soul. You have a noble heart and a fierce will, and nothing will bring me more happiness than to know that you will share these with your people.

As you grow, there will be those who might try to bend you to their ends, who will try to tell you that honour, friendship and serving justice are all weaknesses, but you must stay strong.

Choose your friends well, Kougaiji, and choose even better the enemies whom you fight. You must see clearly. Things are not always as they seem.”

Kougaiji stared at her with wide eyes. “But mother, I don’t understand.”

“I’m afraid that, in time, you will. Don’t forget me after I’m gone, Kougaiji,” she held his small hands fiercely.

“You won’t leave me, will you mother? You’ll always be with me, won’t you?” panic crept into the sweet voice.

She looked at him long and hard, knowing already that jealous eyes were watching them from the concubine’s quarters, bent on their destruction. It was only a matter of time.

“I will always be with you, Kougaiji, because as long as you live, a part of me lives too, right here,” she tickled his chest, and he laughed, tumbling childishly into her lap.

“You have only to call, and I will answer,” she said, squeezing him breathless. They were soon all a tangle of robes, long hair and jewellery, the garden ringing with the sound of tiny Kougaiji’s laughter.

*Even if I must reach across death or fight down the Gods, my son, I will answer you when you call. This I swear*

And Queen Rasetsunyo lifted her chin and glared defiantly at Gyokumen Koshu, her arms folded protectively around her son…

*Do not lose yourself…let me go and claim back what is yours by right. You can save me by freeing me with death.

Be strong, for me, my son.*

The demon prince gasped; the tense scene of reality swimming back into focus.

“Kougaiji,” it was Sanzo who spoke.

“Listen to the voice in your heart,” the monk said, quietly.

What Homura had said became suddenly clear: “You are the only one who can save him, Genjo Sanzo. I can not hear voices.”

Time began flowing again, and for the first time in what seemed like eternity, Prince Kougaiji felt alive, burning with the power of will…his own will.

His mother’s voice had given ferocious life to his spirit -- so long suppressed by his misguided if well meaning attempt to save her -- which roared at him now to take action.

A new determination, unfettered by the power of Gyokumen Koshu, flared in his eyes.

He turned to face the army, “The self proclaimed “Empress” has made an attempt on the Princess’s life and taken Dokugakuji -- along with your fellow soldiers under his command -- hostage. Her regency has brought us nothing but war and suffering.”

He knew that when he spoke the next few words, his fate would be irrecoverably changed.

“Today I ask you to march with me to start a new era…I am going to destroy all those who seek to oppress me. Today, I will bury my father and claim my throne. I grow tired of waiting!

“Does anyone of you contest my right?”

The last was a bellow, and the prince lifted his chin defiantly, fighting down the fear in the pit of his stomach. He was speaking a language that his bloodthirsty followers would understand. They might not comprehend his desire to protect his loved ones, his longing for peace and his hope to save his people — but they could understand lust for power, and they could respect courage.

“The King is dead! Long live the King!”

The cry, taken up by hundreds of men, reverberated in the valley.

“Kougaiji-sama…,” Yaone could not put her surprise and awe into words. Lirin just hugged her brother.

He wrapped his arms around her and then turned to Sanzo.

For long moments, they just looked at each other, both wise enough to understand how one action could change the course of history. Perhaps the monk had already foreseen this long ago; perhaps he had merely seized the opportunity to benefit from a fluid situation with impeccable timing.

There was no knowing the mind of Genjo Sanzo, even for a sorcerer-prince of Kougaiji’s stature. Whatever the case, the demon prince, soon to be king if his bid for power succeeded, was far more comfortable having these four with him rather than against him.

“If you help me in this, I will return the sutra to you,” the handsome demon said simply.

“Tch,” said the monk. Nonchalantly he lit a cigarette and took a thoughtful puff.

His three friends, (he would rather die a thousand deaths than call them what they were), waited with bated breath. Even Goku knew that silence was needed for this crucial moment.

“We’re heading West anyway,” Sanzo finally said, without even a trace of a smile at the outcome he had helped to engineer.

“Ikuzo!”

******

“What happened? What are you doing here?”

Gojyo started.

“You’re awake!” he moved forward eagerly from where he had been sitting at the edge of the ornate bed, and then stopped. He was not a child anymore and could not go hugging his brother just because he felt like it.

But then Doku grabbed him close and kissed him at the top of his head.

For a few moments he returned the embrace, and then pulled back, straightening his clothes and gathering his dignity about him.

“You really are getting old, you missed the whole thing. Kougaiji and a large part of the army killed the Empress and her henchmen; she really left him no choice in the matter. He has been declared king. In the past three days, other demon kings have been recovering their senses and coming to pay tribute, so maybe he will be Emperor soon. He’s assembling a team to look into reversing the effects of the Minus Wave,” Gojyo pushed the hair out of his eyes.

“I know, it’s a bit of a shock really, the tide has changed as quickly as a pretty woman’s fancy. I think only the crazy monk has really wrapped his head around it. All the same, it was a good fight.”

“And his mother?” Doku asked.

“Sanzo was locked in combat with Nii — damn near got dragged into hell along with that perverted bastard himself — Kougaiji had to kill Gyokumen Koshu then and there or risk losing all. He knew before we started the rebellion that he would lose his mother, so he is bearing up well. It’s like he burst out of some kind of mental prison suddenly and decided to hold on to his freedom. I can understand that,” the redhead explained.

“So Kou is all right,” Doku smiled with relief. Then, he noticed the look in the red eyes that he loved so much, still, even after all the time apart and fighting on opposing sides.

“Did we lose someone?”

“No…all of us were pretty cut up after the main battle, especially Sanzo…by the time Hakkai and I got to you, you’d been worked over something fierce by the torturers. Yaone was still with Kougaiji in the main hall subduing the last of Gyokumen Koshu’s supporters, so Hakkai used his ki — and he gave you all he had,” Gojyo looked away.

He always hated it when Hakkai played the hero and put himself in harm’s way to save others. But that was his way, and how could Gojyo object this time, when it was Jien who needed healing?

“He saved my life,” Doku said quietly, reverently. Then, he reached out and stroked his kid brother’s scar. Hakkai was the only one who had healed that completely.

Both of them could understand what it meant to be haunted by the memory of women who had left them so scarred, lingering like illusions in a sea of blood. The soft spoken brunette’s tender vulnerability gave purpose to Gojyo’s empty life, even as his strength shielded the redhead in battle and from the contempt of a narrow minded society.

“He’s real bad, Yaone did all she could, now only time will tell,” he said nothing more, fearing that his brother’s sympathy would make him come undone, but not pulling away from the comforting warmth of the large hand on his face.

He tried not to think about the short life line on Hakkai’s deceptively delicate hands. Tried not to think about the guilt that he felt, because his friend had saved Doku for him, and he had done nothing to stop Hakkai’s sacrifice.

******

Sanzo clicked in irritation and glared at Hakkai’s prone form.

The sides of his mouth, which was exquisitely shaped and would have lured many to their downfall if sweet words ever came from it, pulled down even lower.

He shouldn’t care about the fate of these demons whose company he had been forced to keep by mischievous gods. He should not be put in a position where he had to save and protect others! He hated such responsibility, positively loathed it.

But for three days he had been hearing weeping in that secret part of his mind that Goku had taken over, bit by bit, day by day, until now he was a permanent fixture and as immovable as the mountain that had once imprisoned the bakazaru.

After the battle, the moment he had been able to whack the annoying youth without tearing open the wound in his side, he had raised his fan.

But then Goku had looked right at him, not even raising his hands to protect his head, and said, “Beat me Sanzo, if you want, but please, please make Hakkai well. I know you can.”

And the youth had smiled; his eyes full of hope and the belief that Sanzo really could make everything better, and wordless whispers had bloomed like flowers in the ornery blonde’s sharp mind. The secret voice that he had never been able to resist or explain suddenly made clear the love that Goku felt for him, despite the beatings, harsh words and worse treatment that Sanzo had hurled at the bakazaru for as long as they had known each other.

Of course the monk could have gone through the customary protests, “I do not want to be saddled with people I must protect,” or “You lot are servants to me, nothing more,” or “Get yourself killed and I won’t even say a prayer for you,” or “You’re of no use to me if you’re weak,” or most simply “Shut up and die!”

But something made Sanzo think that Goku would not have believed such words. It could be that the youth could hear the monk’s deepest thoughts, and he knew. Knew that when Sanzo had been forced to kill Rikudo, the sight of the three of them waiting for him had been a balm to his soul; knew that Hakkai’s confession of having nothing more to wish for at the sight of a shooting star had made him smile warmly; and knew that he had been screaming in desperate despair when Goku lay at Homura’s feet unconscious and possibly dead.

So he had hit the bakazaru just twice with stunning ferocity and then stormed wordlessly into Hakkai’s room, where, with one last exasperated grimace, he sat by the dying brunette’s bedside and prayed.

******

Doku was dreaming. After coming in with news that Hakkai had made a miraculous recovery, Yaone had given him a strong dose of painkillers to help him sleep. Gojyo had wished him sweet dreams, and it seemed that this was fulfilled, for his dream was a favourite one, and more vivid than usual.

“Kou,” he purred huskily, nuzzling the taut stomach so close to his face.

The redhead had never worn such an alluring outfit in his dreams before, a white silk night robe that set off the tawny hue of his skin to perfection.

“Your wounds are almost perfectly healed, although some might leave scars,” beautifully made fingers stroked his back gently as Doku lay quietly on his side, his redheaded lord leaning over him as the latter sat facing him.

How wonderful! This Kougaiji was as serious and unutterably sexy as the real life, flesh and blood version. But the scene was bathed in a soft light and was slightly off focus, meaning that they must actually be in a dream.

Doku raised an arm and stroked a silk clad thigh, running a large, powerful hand up to a firm buttock.

The redhead wasn’t even wearing any underwear!

In one swift motion, and with a bold disrespect he never would have dared show in real life, the dark haired youkai sat up and threw Kougaiji on to the bed with sudden force.

The king’s robe flew open and the redhead roared with shock. The sound soon became a low growl, emanating from the core of his being.

He could not know how unbelievably sexy he was, furious and a little confused, his robe half undone, long red hair cascading around his deep gold skin.

The dream was getting even better, Doku thought, enraptured.

Kougaiji bared his fangs and snarled, getting ready to fight off his obviously out-of-his-mind friend without further damaging him, regretting that he had had to cut off his nails after the battle because they had been so badly damaged.

But then Doku kissed him, and gathered him up in irresistibly strong arms, and against his will, the king felt a surge in his sex.

Knowing hands were caressing his thighs as his mouth was invaded by a skilful tongue, and he could not contain the whimper that escaped him when the larger youkai massaged his balls and the base of his rapidly filling sex with firm, circular strokes.

Kougaiji had never coupled with another male before, although he had been trained in his youth by courtesans so that he could one day impregnate a queen. He did not have much interest in women, preferring to practice magic and study the art of command, and the poor women who tried to charm him in their beds, had failed miserably despite their best efforts.

But the way Doku was massaging and squeezing his sex was enough to make him gasp and grow flushed with desire.

A low growl rumbled in his chest again, and the youkai on top of him recognised it as a primal expression of intense emotion, only now it was desire and not anger.

Doku pulled away from the kiss and nuzzled his neck, then trailed hot, wet kisses from his nipples, down the centre of his chest, and stopped to tongue his navel, disrobing him at the same time.

Kougaiji was trembling with need, naked except for the hair that fell in rich curves of red on his sweaty skin.

Doku sat up and wriggled out of his own sleeping pants, and then, very gently, he pulled his king’s legs apart, but much to the redhead’s amazement, instead of taking his throbbing sex into his mouth, the larger youkai pushed Kougaiji’s legs back over his stomach and, with large hands splayed, pressed his buttocks apart.

The king’s vision exploded into a burst of light and he moaned out loud as his lover proceeded to massage his anus with a tongue. This was not something he was at all familiar with, but it was indescribably arousing.

At first the licks ringed his opening, but soon a curled tongue was exerting pressure, seeking entry, which it found when spasms overwhelmed the king. Soon the tongue was wetting him within as well as without in intense, firm licks.

Seed started to weep from the redhead’s swollen head, and his lover sat up between his spread legs. With one finger caressing and stroking his opening, Doku used his other hand to masturbate his king to a climax.

As the dark haired youkai stroked hard and fast, a finger entered Kougaiji, and a delicious burst of intense sensation made him scream and arch his back. The king’s hips jerked, and he drove himself on to the invading digit, which hooked with skilful ease and massaged the core of his pleasure.

Kougaiji cried out as he ejaculated, long strands of seed staining his taut stomach as he writhed hard, trapped in his lover’s skilful hold.

As he caught his breath and swept the hair from his face with a shaking hand, Doku lay down beside him and then pulled him near. When they kissed, Kougaiji was surprised that he found the musky taste of himself in his lover’s mouth strangely exciting.

The larger youkai was thrusting against his stomach, coating his own sex with sticky seed.

“Gods in Heaven, Kou, I love you. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this. To hold you, to give you joy so that you could let go of all the pain.”

Doku cupped his lover’s finely made face, and then caressed the pointed ears no longer adorned with ear rings. The look in those dark eyes said everything about his sympathy, his love, his desire to comfort, which words could not fully express.

Kougaiji kissed him back; giving everything that he had to give in that act, and finally let the tight control he always exerted on himself slip away.

He willed himself to open as Doku eased him on to his back and pressed his legs apart. His lover was very large, there was no doubt about that, but the tall youkai knew how to control and angle his strokes to give his lovers pleasure.

The king knew instinctively from the caresses that this was lovemaking at its most tender and heartfelt, and his lover’s gently whispered words soothed him.

He cried out when, with a firm and quick thrust, Doku sheathed himself fully inside him, the pressure almost tearing him in two. Kougaiji’s legs trembled and he felt a burning sensation searing its way deep, deep inside him.

But then his lover rotated his hips and with a slight nudge, caressed his core of pleasure. The redhead was soon rocking his hips in time to Doku’s thrusts, gasping and moaning with a sexual delight that almost made him insensible.

Doku made love to him for a long time, careful to hold him even as the larger youkai plunged deep inside him with an almost punishing rhythm. The quiet of the night was filled with the sound of their coupling, until, after many blissfully long moments had been spent so intimately entwined, the king’s lover emptied seed and pleasure inside him.

Doku withdrew after his sex was completely emptied, wondering at the intensity of his dream. Kougaiji cuddled up against his broad chest, still gasping softly in the aftermath of desire passionately spent.

“Kou,” he said softly, “this is the best dream I’ve ever had.”

“Tonight was better than a dream, and we have so many tomorrows to fill,” his king said quietly. “Get some rest; Yaone will kill me if you get ill again. I wasn’t even supposed to visit you until next week, and she thought we would be doing nothing more than talk.”

What strange things to say in a wet dream, it sounded as if Kougaiji was really speaking to him. Doku shrugged to himself and then wove the fingers of one hand with the redhead’s on his chest, while he gathered up well made limbs and flowing red hair with the other arm.

As he dozed off in what he still believed to be a dream, he wondered if there could be any other colour as beautiful as red in firelight in all the world.

******

Before meeting Gojyo, colour had never really aroused special feelings in him.

But now, when he saw red, he felt a warm glow in the middle of his chest, where his heart beat and his soul lived.

Gojyo’s hair had once been like blood to him, a brutal reminder of his crime and of her death. Hakkai, then Gonou, had been so terribly wounded in body and spirit then, unable to recognise the gratitude that he felt for his rescuer or the comfort that the redhead’s company granted.

But of course, Gojyo had always seen Hakkai with those deep red eyes. The redhead had known at once that they saw things the same way, were deeply scarred by their bloody pasts in the same way and that…that they needed each other the same way.

And as was his way, he invited Hakkai into his life and offered the human-turned-demon fiercely loyal friendship with open arms, without question or hesitation, the same way, long ago; Sha Jien had done for him.

Gojyo’s hair still reminded Hakkai of blood, although it was a different kind of blood, synonymous with loud laughter and passion and love and battle-fury and devotion: all the terrible and wonderful things that rush within the liquid that flows in the veins of all living things.

And desire.

Red was the colour of desire, the brunette knew this now with sinking despair, because red was also the colour of his past, and he knew his hands were too covered in blood to ever hold anyone again.

Especially someone who’s very soul was such a beautiful shade of red.

******

“Don’t leave me! Come back! Hakkai!”

The heartrending cries shattered the silence of the night with startling suddenness. Gojyo sat up with a jolt, his various healing injuries burning at the force of the movement.

The bed was empty, and with the disorientation of a person abruptly awakened from a nightmare, Gojyo thought for a moment that he was at home, and he was alone and that Hakkai was really gone.

Tears stung his eyes, partly because of his lack of sleep after the battle as he kept vigil alternately at the bedside of his dearest friend or brother, but mostly because of the painful emptiness that suddenly seared his soul.

“Gojyo.”

He looked up, turning his body towards the voice.

How was it that only Hakkai could say his name like that? Making his name sound like something treasured and loved and whole just by speaking it?

“Are you all right? I was in the bathroom…,” with some difficulty the badly drained brunette moved quickly to sit down beside the redhead and push the long hair away from the tear stained face.

Gojyo almost made a flippant remark about how his psychosis was so bad that it even prevented his friends from taking a leak, but the way Hakkai was looking at him silenced him.

“Your hair is about the only thing I can see clearly, Gojyo. No matter the light, it’s always red,” the brunette said quietly. His monocle lay on the bedside table. He smiled gently and withdrew his hand, but the warmth of his words lingered comfortingly between them.

“Like blood,” the redhead said, cuffing his eyes.

The brunette sensed the hurt in his friend’s voice, and in the quiet of the night, with no Sanzo to shame him into hiding his deeper emotions, Gojyo’s vulnerability seemed even more raw.

“Blood red like life, and love,” Hakkai caught himself, and then smiled again, knowing that Gojyo would be curious, knowing instantly that this smile was not real, the way the redhead understood the heart behind words spoken without even trying.

But if he noticed something odd, the astute redhead did not let on. “I had a nightmare that you left. Just upped and married Yaone and I had to travel back with the joke of a monk and the monkey,” he explained, his lips quirking slightly.

Hakkai laughed softly. “No wonder you were terrified. Me leaving you for a woman? Surely you have our roles reversed!”

“Humph! The women I know and have known…I’d be crazy to marry. I’m still waiting for the special one, you know: sweet smile, caring nature, great figure, puts up with my mess without too much nagging…,” Gojyo stopped suddenly.

It dawned on him with amazing clarity and suddenness, and once the realisation came, he wondered at his own lack of self awareness.

“Ah,” Hakkai smiled and nodded in understanding.

“Good cook. Loves me despite all my faults…,” the redhead’s voice had dropped to a whisper.

“You’ll find her, Gojyo, you’re not so hard to love,” Hakkai said. He looked a moment too long at his friend, and then looked away and laughed softly, “What a late hour for such strange talk.”

*Nobody will ever love you. Nobody will ever stay. It would be better if you had not been born*

Gojyo knew he had to do this, it was a terrible gamble, and the outcome could either silence his demons forever or give them new power. But something he sensed in the way Hakkai had likened the colour of his blood red hair to life and love spurred him on.

“I’ve found him, long ago, I just didn’t see it then,” well, there is was, out in the open, might as well finish the move, no effort should be stopped midway.

“Hakkai, I love you,” and he leaned forward and kissed the green eyed brunette with the too-beautiful face.

When he pulled back, he did not withdraw his arms, and he saw that Hakkai was shaking.

“Gojyo,” there was wonder and tenderness and joy in that single word, but also regret.

The redhead braced himself for the shattering rejection.

“I’m not worthy to love anyone, especially not someone like you. My hands, they are so stained with blood…,” the brunette lowered his gaze.

“Na, Hakkai!” Gojyo raised his friend’s chin with gentle care, “What was it you just said: Blood red like life. Like love. Believe it or not, I think we’re fated to be together.”

“I know you. I know all that you are. And I will love you, if you will let me,” he continued, simply, honestly and tenderly.

Hakkai blinked, and then he smiled until the joy touched his eyes.

“Hai, Gojyo. Of course,” they embraced, both wondering why the fit of each other’s bodies and souls was so perfect, as if the bond between them had been this deep and this fierce for lifetimes past counting.

******

“Kougaiji-sama!”

The fierce disapproval in the usually reverent and gentle voice made Doku come awake with a start.

His back felt like it was on fire as Yaone helped him to sit up.

The pain cleared his head, and he realised with horror and alarm that Kougaiji was sitting, quite naked and embarrassed, next to him.

Last night was no dream! The memory of his bold words and even more alarming actions came flooding back to him with startling force.

What had he done?

“Dokugakuji! Are you all right? I would never forgive myself if I made you ill again,” Kougaiji asked, concerned that his new lover and long time friend was turning paler by the moment and might faint.

“I’m sorry for saying so, your majesty, but you really should have waited before visiting,” Yaone applied some balm to the wounds. At least none needed bandaging.

“Forgive me, Yaone,” the king said.

She blushed prettily. “He will be fine.” Then, her face turned fiery red. She proffered a bottle to Doku meekly, “This is for soothing the insides…there is enough in there for two.”

Then, she ran out, apologising all the way.

Doku gaped after she left. Then, he turned slowly to face his king, now lover.

“Kou,” he began, at a loss for words.

“I’m fine, I don’t need it, and you sure don’t,” the king smiled. “Yaone is very thoughtful.”

“She must be heartbroken,” Doku said, his whirling thoughts going out to his dear friend.

“Why’s that?” Kougaiji asked.

“She’s in love with you, maybe you haven’t noticed it…and for her to see this…I wish it could have been broken more gently to her,” the dark haired youkai sighed.

“Aah, Dokugakuji, I see you do not understand. She loves me the way Lirin loves me, as an older brother-protector. She takes special care to please me because…well, because it makes Lirin happy. My sister has always wanted a mother and our little family gives them both so much joy. Moreover, Yaone has a fear of men that way, even before her ordeal with the demon from whom I rescued her, it was in her nature. I have always hoped that she would find a woman who would make her happy,” Kougaiji explained, “So you need not worry that her heart is broken, I think she is happy for us, only disapproving that I came to visit you while you were still healing.”

“I think last night was the best medicine for me,” Doku said warmly.

Kougaiji laughed, and his lover marvelled at the pure beauty and joy in that sound. His lord had never more than smiled before, in all the years he had known him.

Somewhere in the Heavens, Rasetsunyo laughed too.

******

“Sanzo,” Goku said very quietly, creeping into the room where the blonde was enjoying a cigarette and a newspaper.

An irritated click was all he got in response.

Completely unperturbed, the youth scooted around the chair and stared determinedly at the pretty profile until the foul tempered monk was forced to look at him.

“I got this for you,” he put a beautiful chrysanthemum in a dainty vase on to the table in front of Sanzo.

The blonde barely spared the gift a glance. “You didn’t plunder the royal garden, did you?” His voice was dangerously tight.

“Lirin said I could have it when I told her I wanted a flower for you,” Goku replied cheerily.

Sanzo did not know what to make of this. Goku had never dared be so blatantly loving before. The blonde was not ill, and he had not just nearly died (not since four days ago anyway) so this outpouring of affection was quite unexpected — and bold!

“Thank you for saving Hakkai,” the youth said, golden eyes afire with gratitude, ignoring the danger lurking in amethyst eyes.

“Tch,” said Sanzo.

“I know you told Hakkai it was because you could not live with the thought of travelling home with Gojyo and me alone, but I know it is because deep down you care about him too, just like you care about Gojyo...remember that time he left us and…,”

“Bakazaru!” /Whap!/

And then, most incredibly of all, instead of howling in pain and moving away to a safer distance as he always did, Goku said, “We love you too Sanzo, but me most of all!”

And then the brunette lunged forward in an entirely unprecedented act of foolhardiness, and the blonde was kissed.

And it was beautiful, and Sanzo wanted to be kissed some more and to be held and loved and…

He would endure a thousand deaths and ten thousand tortures before he admitted how he felt.

Goku heard the click of the gun just in time and was out of the room in a flash, bullets whizzing past his temples.

Once he was sure the youth had truly left the scene, Sanzo put down his gun and newspaper with shaking hands and groaned.

How horrible it was! The kid was developing a mind and will of his own! And a most alarming stubborn streak (Not surprising really considering who the centre of his universe and life’s inspiration was).

The shaken monk looked at the flower, as yellow as the sun and his own fair hair. And then, unable to resist, and ensuring with sharp eyes that there would be no witnesses, he leaned forward with lightning speed and gave it a quick sniff.

It smelled kind of nice actually, and if he was going to be honest with himself, so did Goku. He had the terrible sinking feeling that the youth was going to get even bolder when he got older, and that he was going to have to be a lot more honest with himself far sooner than he had originally thought.

What a pain in the arse!

Next door, Hakkai asked, “Goku, are you all right?”

“We heard gun shots,” Gojyo said, turning to face Goku as he entered the room but not bothering to sit up from where he was lying in Hakkai’s lap.

Both were in bed together, but Hakkai's" weakened state had prevented them from consummating their love the previous night. That was a pleasure they were eagerly anticipating in a few days.

“Sanzo would have hit me in a second if he was really aiming for my head. That just proves that he loves me,” Goku beamed.

“Ah, you’re not a very demanding lover, are you?” Gojyo asked, goggle eyed.

“Well, for Sanzo, that is a very tender act,” Hakkai said laughing. He rested a hand on the red hair spilling across his lap.

Both wondered if the younger brunette would ask them why they were so close together this morning, but he obviously had other more delicious thoughts to consider. Presently, Goku started eating a bun left over from Hakkai’s breakfast, served to him in bed as he recuperated.

The youth was lost in dreams of warm kisses…and so much more. He’d just have to learn to dodge bullets better, and with such exquisite motivation, he was sure he would succeed.

******

“Sanzo, I’m sorry to disturb you at rest,” Kougaiji said.

“What is it?” the blonde asked, putting down his newspaper. The king noticed the chrysanthemum in a vase at the edge of the table. He smiled to himself, suddenly realising what Goku and Lirin had been discussing so earnestly that they actually stopped eating for a few moments during breakfast.

“We have done a thorough search of the castle and we have not found Nii’s sutra,” Kougaiji said, getting straight to the point. He sat down in a chair opposite Sanzo.

The blonde nodded, “What did you expect? He was a very devious man.”

“I understand that he held that sutra legitimately, and that he was a real Sanzo…perverse and cruel as he was. I saw that during your battle with him, it took much even from you to destroy him.”

Sanzo just blinked, recognising the esteem that he enjoyed in this great former enemy’s eyes, but not caring in the least to bask in it.

“And, with Gyuumaou’s resurrection ended once and for all and both your Master’s sutras back in your possession, your journey’s objectives have been met.”

Also, his mother was dead with his father, and Kougaiji bravely quelled the pain in his heart so that he could attend to life’s pressing matters. He must go on.

“But I fear that Nii had another acolyte, apart from the one whom you defeated, an even more powerful one, who has managed to escape with this sutra. I will not feel secure until I know that the sutra rests in the care of a worthy Sanzo,” Kougaiji said.

“Aah,” Sanzo said, acknowledging him, “but that really is none of my business.”

The king started. “Don’t you care that the sutra might be used for evil? You have the power and the best chance of locating it…,”

All he got in reply was a hard stare.

“So you will do nothing? Until catastrophe strikes and the Gods bestir themselves and summon you on another journey after countless lives have been destroyed?” Kougaiji was appalled. He had always assumed that beneath his tough stance, Sanzo was a righteous man, a good man.

“Don’t be an idiot. Do you expect me to kill another Sanzo and wrest his sutra from him, in order to prevent an evil yet to occur?” the blonde said, his speech not rising in pitch or speeding up in the least.

Of course, Sanzo had already thought about this problem and considered it from all angles. What he said was true, they would have to sit and wait. Trying to prevent evil deeds was a conceit, for in doing so, even with the best of intentions, they were assuming the God-like powers of prediction and judgement. It was too dangerous a vanity to contemplate.

It would have been nice if Sanzo could have explained it like that, instead of provoking him with such harsh words, but that would be expecting too much.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I just thought that you should know,” Kougaiji said.

Sanzo took a puff from his cigarette, “Keep me informed, if you should hear of anything.”

The king nodded. The hard arsed monk really took some getting used to, but he cared, there was no doubt about that, for all his protestations of utter detachment and rude outbursts, he cared.

What a man. So difficult to understand, even harder to tolerate, but entirely too easy to love and admire.

“Is everything to your liking? You know that you and your friends are welcome to stay as long as you wish, at least until you are all fully recovered. I have dragons to transport you back to the temple when you are ready to travel, it should be a couple of weeks ride at the most,” Kougaiji said graciously.

“They aren’t my friends, they’re…,” the monk was cut short.

“Your servants, sorry I forgot,” Kougaiji said, rising. “No need to thank me for my hospitality, it is the least that I can do. Thank you, Genjo Sanzo, for your help.” The king left the room with a backwards wave, wondering if the monk’s friends would die before they ever heard a tender word from the blonde, even if they all knew that Sanzo did care for them, probably much more than it was good to, for such a high-ranking monk.

Sanzo was tickled despite himself by Kougaiji’s ability to remain so gracious even faced with such rudeness. It sat much more comfortably being such a person’s ally rather than his enemy; he had to admit.

Goku would certainly be pleased as the bakazaru had never gotten it through his thick skull that the noble youkai was their enemy anyway.

Moments after Kougaiji left, shouting exploded next door with startling suddenness.

“Bakazaru…!”

“Ero kappa…!”

“Naa…naa…calm down…Sanzo is resting next door…,” this last voice was almost too soft to be heard through the wall, but the words sounded clear to the monk because he was expecting them.

No doubt Gojyo and Goku were arguing again, and they would come barrelling into his room with some complaint or other presently, Hakkai apologising for their rowdiness behind…

The blonde glanced at the chrysanthemum, and then went back to reading his newspaper, not bothering to hide the small smile that touched his delicate lips.