“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...”