Where The Heart Is Where The Heart Is
by Kiri

The rain pounding.

That was it.

The dull, thundering, painful drum of the rain.

"Genrou, I love you."

He covered his ears with his hands, trying to block out the memories. From neither those nor the rain could he hide. The steady noise trickled through his fingers. He gave up and dropped his hands.

"I'll wait for you to come back."

His breath was low, controlled, a bit too quick. Memories glinted back to him, brief, like a glimpse of lightening through the trees. Dark blue eyes looking at him. A quick smile. A laugh that always made him smile as well.

"I'll need to know your answer then."

He jerked up suddenly, striding to the window, slamming closed the shutters. He was shocked to notice that he was trembling. Honesty he appreciated, but...

He leaned his head against the wall.

He was going back tomorrow. Could he do it? Could he face the one who admitted love to him? Would he be strong or would he run?

Tomorrow.

Only a few hours.

He climbed back into the bed, agonizing for sleep, unable to even shut his eyes. The rain was a form of ancient torture.

"Genrou, I love you..."

~~~

The day dawned cold and grey, the rain still drizzling slightly. That was remarkably how he felt. Everything hurt. His eyes were like sandpaper and he felt weak from the lack of sleep. Only a few more miles.

How was he supposed to decide something like this? Feelings don't just change. He spurred his horse on, away from the inn, his few belongings tied to the saddle.

The air was damp but clean. Home. Everything here was familiar. He smiled slightly in spite of his heart. It was so good to be home. Only a few more miles and he'd see everyone again. Kouji would be there and they-

Kouji.

He turned his thoughts to focus solely on the road, but could not keeps his mind steady. The face of his best friend kept flashing through his mind. He missed him so much. It had been so long...

Had it been long enough?

The light rain droned steadily on, the regular thrum well-known to him now.

He had last seen his friend while fighting against Kutou. They had fought together, almost joyously. He had missed him, and to have him appear suddenly like that had been wonderful. If it had stayed like that, nothing would have stopped him from rushing home as soon as possible. Since when they were small, Kouji had always been his best friend. Kouji had always understood him. Kouji had always been there for him.

He wondered if he would be made leader when he returned. He didn't really care if he was or if he was not. Power was nothing. If anything, it was harmful. Nothing would please him more than to see his old friend again and to dance around like the children they had been, and would never be again, or to just sit and talk with him.

Before he knew it, he was at the gates of the settlement, being let in, being saluted...

And being brought to the leader.

He tried to kill the nervousness in his stomach as he dismounted and let another younger bandit lead his horse away. He kept his bag. The tessen was strapped to his back as usual. It was interesting how different everything was today. The rain seemed to have subdued even the most inebriated of them. There were no jeers, no raucous yelling, just calm, quick obedience. Odd.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the leader's room, where he knew Kouji would be.

~~~

It went better than he had expected.

Kouji smiled at him as he walked in, and finished up with one of the men, trying to explain why it was better to attack from this side rather than that, and how to most quickly get out.

He smiled slightly and listened.

"No, moron, look," Kouji said patiently. "If you do it your way, you're sure to lose at least three men."

The man tried to protest, but Kouji cut him off again.

"This way not only makes more sense, but it's easier to get in and get out. All you have to do is avoid that window." He hit his fist against an out-stretched palm. "They'll never know what hit them."

The other frowned, but eventually acquiesced. He nodded slightly to the man in the doorway as he exited.

Alone in the room. He and Kouji. Why was he so nervous?

Kouji smiled at him again. "Welcome home, Genrou."

He tried to smile back and failed. "Thanks. It's good to see you." Was that a lie? He didn't think so, but he wasn't sure anymore.

Kouji had seen the face. He frowned slightly, knowing the reason. "Do you want to talk now or later?"

He sighed, willing to get it over with, not wishing to have to go through it at all. "Anytime you like."

He fingered his scar thoughtfully. "Now. But not here. There will be people running in and out." He cast him a long look. "You know where."

He nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Of course. I'll meet you there in five minutes."

Kouji nodded back. "Genrou..." he started, but cut himself off. "Five minutes."

He nodded, then left the room.

The road to their secret place was quick, but it was well-disguised. They never went together for fear that it would be discovered. It was here that he had taken Miaka, Suzaku no Miko, when he had first met her. This was truly home. It was where he felt safe, where he was free. But not this time. Today, it would be a place of hurt. He shivered slightly and debated whether or not to actually go, but he was there before he could truly change his mind.

He pushed open the door and saw that Kouji was already there, sitting on one of the two beds in the room. A table lined one wall. Other than that, the room was bare and rather dusty. He sat down on the other bed, facing Kouji, still not meeting his eyes.

Silence.

The rain drilled on the roof, harder now than it had been when he had been traveling on the road. He was a bit damp, but the trees had mostly shielded him from the water. The room smelled musty and rather dank. He noted this unhappily, and promised himself that he would fix it up. It was good in a way, though, because that meant no one had been here, that no one had found it. No one had been there except them. He wondered if anyone else ever would. He noticed with surprise that his hands were sweating a bit.

Kouji shattered the quiet. "Genrou, look at me."

He had trouble dragging his eyes up to meet the other man's. After a moment, he gave up trying. He was afraid, more frightened than he had ever been in his life, more frightened than he had been of Nakago, of the Seiryuu seishi, or of death. This was his best friend!!

Strong, warm fingers grabbed his chin, forcing his face up, making him meet Kouji's eyes now. Gentle, familiar blue eyes gazed into his own dark ones. "Shit, you're scared of me," Kouji said, disgusted.

He looked back, gathering courage from the tone of Kouji's voice. He frowned. "So I should be pleased?"

Kouji dropped his hand and sighed. "I didn't expect you to be pleased."

Anger bubbled up in him suddenly. "Then what did you expect?"

Blue eyes turned to him. "Nothing. I just wanted to let you know."

Shock. He could not say anything. What was there to say to that?

Kouji sighed again. "Genrou, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. But I also can't lie to myself. I can always get away from you. I can never escape myself."

He nodded slowly, trying to understand. He didn't expect... anything? Relief!

"Kouji..." he suddenly heard himself saying. Then he stopped. What was he supposed to say? Thank you for loving me and being honest? Thank you for perhaps ruining our friendship?

"I know I most likely screwed up every good thing we ever had," Kouji said, his voice soft, sad. "Perhaps if I had not told you, then I could stay at your side, loving you from a distance."

"But then your life would be a lie," he murmured.

Kouji nodded, then tried to smile. "You know me... always spurting out words before I think about them."

He chuckled lightly. "I thought that was me."

Kouji smiled a true smile. "You too."

Relief poured through him. It would work out. They could still be friends. Nothing would change. He turned his eyes to his friend of his own volition, smiling and reached out a hand. "It'll be okay, right?"

Kouji looked a bit surprised, but then grasped the hand, holding it tightly, and nodded mutely.

He grinned. "We didn't dance."

Kouji blinked, looking even more surprised. "Genrou...?"

He yanked up his friend and started spinning around. "It's been a long time, Kouji!"

Kouji laughed. "It was very long, Genrou!"

"How are you?"

"I'm great, you?"

"Great!"

A little breathless, they stopped. He felt so pleased. Everything would be all right. He suddenly hugged Kouji, feeling the burden of fear lift from him. "You asshole... you had me so scared."

Kouji hugged back, then pulled away suddenly. His eyes were concerned, apprehensive.

He cocked his head, still smiling, his fangs peeking out a little. "What?"

Kouji leaned forward suddenly and pressed his lips hard against his.

He stumbled backwards, stunned, nearly falling. "Kouji?"

Kouji watched him a moment gauging his reaction. He took a step backwards, lowered his eyes, and fled from the small room into the pouring rain.

He stood there a moment, completely bewildered. Had... had that just happened?

The little room was silent except for his breathing.

~~~

The smell of sweat and of dying men had been strong that night.

He was pacing in his tent. "Hotohori-sama, you idiot," he was muttering. He was furious. Who had told the emperor he could go and sacrifice himself like that? It wasn't right! That Seiryuu bastard Nakago had just left him there! And for what? To destroy his own country?

"Fuck!!" he swore, angry at his inability to do anything.

There was a soft rustle at the door of his tent. He looked up.

"I was worried about you, Genrou," Kouji said quietly, carrying something in his hands. He closed the tent flap behind him, but the sounds of death could not be confined to the outside. He sat down on the ground, beside his bedroll, and waited.

He sat down as well, facing him.

Kouji handed him a mug filled with warm sake, keeping one for himself.

He sighed deeply and took a draught, trying to calm himself down.

Kouji merely watched him. At the time, he did not know why, but reflecting upon it...

He sipped slowly at the sake, unwilling to drink it all too soon, trying to savor every last drop. "Why were you worried?" he asked, a bit curious.

Kouji frowned. "I'm sure I could think of a few reasons," he said sarcastically, then stopped, his face growing grave. "How are you doing after... the emperor...?"

He lowered the mug. "I'm okay, I guess. I just wish I could get my hands on the mother-fucking piece of shit who did it." He sighed. "The little bastard. I'd kill him with my bare hands, except he'd probably have killed me by then."

Kouji smiled, subdued. "That would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

He sighed again and took another sip. "Yeah."

It was quiet for a moment, both men lost in their thoughts. Kouji had not touched his drink. His hair was flipped over his eye on one side, a bit comical-looking.

There was a cry of pain close by and he shut his eyes tightly, praying it had not been one of his own men. "Hey, Kouji," he said softly, "if I don't make it back, you'll be leader, okay?"

Kouji jerked his face up. "Don't say that."

He was surprised and opened up his eyes to examine his best friend. "This is war... it might happen. Just promise me you will."

The blue eyes were wide as they looked at him. Something burned in him strongly; he was not sure what it was.

His voice was a warning. "Kouji..."

Kouji frowned. "Of course. If you want it that way."

He smiled slightly. "Of course, I'd prefer to remain alive..."

A light chuckle met his ears. "I'd prefer it too."

He turned his eyes up to look at his friend, to memorize everything, in case he wasn't the one to die, in case Kouji... He shook his head slightly. Best not to think such things.

There was suddenly a lot of yelling around the tent and the dull thunder of feet running by. He looked up. "They probably need me." He stood up, drinking down the last of the sake.

Kouji stood up too, setting his drink down on the ground. "Genrou..."

He looked up, fastening his jacket around him. "Yeah?"

Kouji's eyes were dark and worried, like a cloud passing over the moon on a night without stars. He reached out a hand and cupped his cheek, as if he was a child. "Genrou."

He frowned, a bit nervous, the footsteps fading into the background of his mind. "Kouji?"

The scarred man took a deep breath. "This might be the last time I see you."

Now he was really worried. Kouji could get easily depressed, but usually wasn't this upset over such an insignificant thing as death. There must be something else too, he decided.

Another deep breath. "Genrou, I love you."

He flinched away, shocked at the words. "K-Kouji?"

Kouji left his hand in the air, almost as if he was reaching for him, but then slowly lowered it after a moment. "I'll wait for you to come back."

He stared. "Kouji, what the hell-"

A quick shake of the head from Kouji and the distinct lack of humor proved to him that his friend was not joking around. "When you come back from helping Suzaku no Miko, I'll need to know your answer then."

He was staring at him, his friend, staring in shock and wonder, in stunned amazement. How had he managed to hide that from him? "Kouji..."

Kouji looked up at him, meeting his eyes, a soft, sweet sadness reflecting in their blue intensity. "Sayounara, Genrou."

And he disappeared out of the tent and into the thick of the fray, and he did not see him again.

~~~

But that had been then.

He sank to his knees slowly, resting his head on the side of the bed, trying to convince himself that this was indeed reality and not some phantom vision of a sleep-deprived mind. How could this be true? What had happened to Kouji that he had changed his mind about how he felt toward him? The bed smelled damp, the mountain air seeking refuge in the covers. He crawled into the bed, exhaustion tearing at him, both physical and emotional, and he fell into a sleep barren of dreams.

~~~

The rain had softened to a low murmur as he opened his eyes.

Someone sat on the bed beside his, watching him. A scar trickled down his left cheek, making it impossible not to recognize him. He looked dry, so could not have been out in the rain recently. He wondered what time it was as he sat up slowly.

Kouji said nothing, just merely regarded him, his eyes voids of black in the dim room, his back to the dying sun. It had to be near or right after sunset, for a faint flicker of light gleamed through the west-facing window, the one behind Kouji.

The blankets he had wrapped so tightly around him slid off, and he waited quietly, watching Kouji intently.

Again, that unbearable silence, so profoundly quiet that their breath was not even audible. The rain smattered a few times on the roof, very hard, then softened again.

It wasn't right!! This wasn't how it was supposed to be!!

He suddenly stood up and went to Kouji, sitting beside him, hugging him for reassurance, and was held as he had been when they were small. He was scared of the outcome, but Kouji had always been there and helped him when he was upset. Kouji knew him better than anyone else, better than himself, most likely.

Kouji smelled as he always had, of pine trees and mountain air and of safety and of warmth and human scent, the smell that he had known for most of his life. He felt young and lost, like a child without a mother, and whenever that feeling was present, he had turned to Kouji. Now should be no different.

The warm arms suddenly tightened around him, and he didn't know why. He slowly pulled away, wanting an explanation.

Kouji was frowning slightly, his brow creased. He reached out a hand and touched his cheek. "Genrou," he said in an amazed voice, "you're crying."

He blinked, not understanding for a moment, then reached up to see for himself. He lowered his eyes, feeling stupid. He wanted to be strong now, not like this.

Kouji gazed at him a moment more, his face looking worried. He then pulled him tightly to him, trying to comfort him, stroking his hair and whispering gentle things in his ear.

He shut his eyes, still scared, but feeling safer. It could still be okay. Kouji would protect him, just as they did when they were younger. Kouji had always been older, always stronger, always the one able to laugh things off faster. He had always wanted to be like him, always wanted to be as strong. Kouji had not only been his best friend, but he had been like an older brother too. He was his only family now. It would be okay.

"I'm sorry, Genrou," Kouji was saying. "I didn't mean to upset you. Just-"

He hugged him tighter, not wishing to hear anymore, just content to know he was there and praying that they would always, always be friends.

The little red-haired child cried out.

"Genrou?" called an anxious, almost-mature voice.

"Kouji!" said the little boy, trying to restrain tears. "I... I just fell. I'm okay."

The blue-haired youth walked over, carefully stepping over the scattered rocks that littered the ground. "Moron, you gotta be careful around here!" He reached out a hand and helped the child up.

The child was angry. "I'm not a moron! You're a bastard!"

The youth laughed. "So are you. Come on, idiot, we've still got a lot of ground to cover before we get home."

The boy glared, but followed.

They stopped an hour after sunset, when it was nearly too dark to see.

"Damn," Kouji muttered. "You're slow as hell."

Genrou was indignant, but couldn't think of anything to reply to that. It was his fault they weren't home yet. He hated walking for such long distances. It was so boring! He sighed, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry, Kouji."

Kouji turned and glanced back. "Nah, it's okay. We need to find a place to stay though."

The boy nodded, a bit excited about the prospect of spending the night in the woods. "I'll find some firewood, okay?"

After a nod from Kouji, he ran off.

The fire crackled, seeming pleased. Genrou tossed leaves into the fire to watch the sparks. Kouji watched the younger boy, smiling slightly. He thought it was interesting that his hair seemed to blend with the fire, so that it was occasionally hard to tell where one started and the other left off.

The boy yawned and leaned back, which put his head right beside Kouji, and his feet near the fire. "Kouji?"

"Mm?" he asked. He had been staring off into space, thinking.

"Are we always going to be friends?"

Kouji turned his eyes down to him, the red of the fire reflecting off the deep blue. "Course."

The child pouted slightly. "Promise?"

Kouji sighed and pulled a knife from his pocket. "Yup. Here."

Genrou sat up to face him. "What?"

Kouji grabbed the boy's arm and proceeded to make a cut on the inside of his wrist.

"Ow!" the boy said, yanking his arm back, angry. "What the hell was that for??"

Kouji ignored him and drew blood on the inside of his own wrist, then grabbed Genrou's arm again. He put the bleeding wrists together tightly then gazed at Genrou straight in the eyes. "Promise."

His solemnity silenced Genrou. The boy looked down at the intertwined arms, blood slowly mixing together. Forever.

Forever.

He lifted up his arm to view the scar, the same arm as where his seishi symbol appeared. Kouji noted this and smiled.

"That was a long time ago, wasn't it?" Kouji asked softly.

He nodded, pulling away. He felt subdued today. He did not deal as well with emotions as he did with physical threats and this was most likely one of the most emotional times in his life.

It was again quiet for a moment.

He had stilled his tears, regaining control, and knew he needed to face the problem at hand now. He took a deep breath, trying to force his feelings into malleable words. "Kouji..."

The other man was quiet, waiting.

Another breath. He had to remember to breathe. "What's love?"

Kouji looked rather startled.

Stumbling on the words, he rushed ahead blindly, trying to make his confusion into something logical. "I mean, I care for you and all, because you're my best friend, and I want you to be happy, but I'm not sure of anything right now. I mean, what if I said yes? Just... well... you're a man. I'm not sure I even know what love is and I just..." He stopped, noting that he needed to breathe again. "What if I say no to you? Then what?" He paused while trying to calm his flood of emotions. "Kouji, I don't want to lose you. I've lost too many others."

Kouji chuckled lightly. "It's good to have you back."

He glared at him, unsure whether he was being laughed at or not.

Kouji smiled at him gently. "You want to know what love is?" He looked away, gazing out the window where the sky was nearly dark. "Love is always wanting the other person's happiness more than your own. It is willingness to do anything for them if it will help them. It is letting yourself hurt if it helps them. It is trying to fix things when they go wrong. It's being patient with them, laughing with them, crying with them." He turned his eyes back to him. "It's a lot more too, but I think you get the picture."

He nodded silently. He had known that.

"About your other questions..." Kouji sighed, seeming like he needed help phrasing things. "If you say no, that's fine. I understand. It's a lot to take in. Especially when you are in love with someone else." He gave him a glance.

He was bewildered, but let him finish. Someone else?

"If you say yes, then I'll be the happiest, luckiest man alive, and I swear I'll make you happy too." Odd words from such a usually quick tongue. "You don't have to worry about losing me in any case. I'll be here no matter what." He gave a sad half-smile and held up his wrist. "Forever, remember?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah... a favor, Kouji?"

"Hm?"

"I need... I need to think. A lot."

Kouji gave him a small smile. "That I understand too. I did much of that myself. You know where I'll be if you need me."

He nodded, keeping his eyes down.

Kouji stood up and ruffled his hair on the way out. "Don't fry your brain though, okay?"

He turned to glare at him, but the door had shut already.

He gazed out the window the somber landscape, trying to think.

~~~

He was trying to calm his rushing thoughts, but it was like trying to stop a river at flood stage. He would try to be logical. First things first then.

Nuriko.

What would Nuriko do?

He cupped his chin in his hands, thinking. The older man had always impressed him. He had grown rather attached, admiring him, wanting to be like him in a way, trusting his strength, both physical and emotional. Nuriko had been a truly great friend. He had always given him hope, encouragement. But then...

He shook his head slightly, forcing dark images of blood away from his mind. What would Nuriko do?

Nuriko would most likely agree. Even if he did not love him back, there was love there, if one-sided. Yet Nuriko could love anyone, even the stupid red-haired bandit with the big mouth. But was that the same kind of love? Was what he felt for Kouji the same as how Kouji felt toward him? He didn't think so, but he had been wrong before. What exactly did Kouji want from him?

He took a deep breath, trying to focus his thoughts again. Nuriko would most likely accept Kouji and try to make things work.

Hotohori-sama.

Chills ran up and down his spine. It had been that night, the night he died, that Kouji had come to him. But what would Hotohori have done? He frowned. The emperor had always been a mystery to him. He knew he would never win Miaka's heart, yet he kept trying. He stopped for a second. Was that how Kouji felt? That no matter what he did, he would never love him back? He shivered slightly. He had clearly seen the emperor's obvious misery. He would rather die than force that on his best friend. Yet Hotohori had been in a similar position with Nuriko. Nuriko had loved the emperor with all his heart, but Hotohori had never looked twice at him. The emperor would agree only if he felt the same way, he decided.

One versus one.

Chichiri.

The oldest of them all. He shifted his weight slightly. Chichiri would understand. Chichiri would take off his mask and be serious and say that he understood love and that it did not matter what form it came in.

He sighed. Did it matter what form it came in? And if it didn't, why did so many people disapprove? But Chichiri wouldn't. That, at least, was a comfort. Chichiri would always be his friend. The monk was about as constant as one could be and still be human. He trusted him with all his heart.

Mitsukake.

The calm, silent, steady man, the man who had passionately loved before his heart was devastated by death. Would he understand? He frowned slightly. Most likely not, at least not right away. Mitsukake had always been very conservative, traditional. His dreams had centered around getting married and raising a family, healing people, and generally being a good person. This threatened that basic family principle. Mitsukake would not approve.

Two versus two.

Tamahome.

He sighed. Tamahome was a few months younger than him, yet had already found the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He had never cared for love until it had landed practically in his lap. Would he even have considered the possibility of loving another man?

He rested back on the bed. No. Tamahome would most likely not understand. Had it been anyone but Miaka, he never would have found love. She was so persistent.

It was cold in the room. He pulled a blanket out from underneath him and spread it unevenly over him. It was still chilly, but he managed to ignore it as he tried to frame his thoughts.

Chiriko.

The boy had been so young. He wouldn't have known what this was yet. At least, he hoped Chiriko had retained the innocence that he had always sensed about the boy. Love apparently brought hurt and sorrow, no matter what kind it was.

Miaka.

He shut his eyes, picturing her face. He hadn't understood her at all at first, but she was a lot like him. She had always had someone to protect her, especially in Kounan. He, too, had always been protected, by Kouji. They really were not that different. Both trusted people easily, both often spoke before thinking, both were stubborn when they wanted to be. Yet Miaka was very mature about love. She had been willing to give up everything for Tamahome: her home, her family, her entire world. She would understand. For love, nothing must be held back.

He got up off the bed and wandered to the window, staring out blindly at the darkened scenery, the sun blighting the black.

So, three versus three, and one too young to know.

"Shit, that doesn't fucking help me at all!!!" he yelled out the window to no one in particular. "Shit, shit, shit, shit!!!"

He smashed his hand against the window frame. It hurt a little, but it somehow, paradoxically, through the pain, made him feel better.

What was he supposed to do?

If he agreed... what would happen to their friendship?

If he did not... then what?

"Kouji, you bastard!!" he yelled, again out the window, feeling ready to punch someone, anyone. "Fuck..." he whispered softly, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. He had just saved the world!! Wasn't he supposed to get a party or something?

He decided suddenly what he would do.

With an evil smirk, he walked out the door, shutting it behind him.

~~~

He never imagined that the world could look this pretty.

He moved his head from side to side, watching the shimmering colors, delighted. His head was throbbing, but he didn't care, because the colors were there.

He thought it was a candle he was looking at, but he wasn't sure, since the colors obscured most of his vision. His stomach hurt too, but he had already thrown up once, and there was nothing left in there.

He thought he was stepped on a few times, but he wasn't sure. He had never been quite this drunk before.

"Idiot!!" shouted a sudden voice in his ear, and he shut his eyes, hoping to block the sound, and the colors stayed with him. He smiled at them, pleased they hadn't left.

He felt himself moving, and it made him dizzy. He could feel himself retching out his empty stomach, but nothing happened besides that. Had it only been once he had thrown up? He wasn't sure. He hadn't been quite so drunk then, and was sure he could have remembered now, if only he wasn't moving. His mouth would not form the words to order the command to put him down, however, so he had no means of escape.

"Fucking, fucking idiot," said the same voice, a bit quieter. He thought he recognized the voice, but he wasn't sure. The colors danced a bit quicker in front of his eyes.

He felt wet and cold then, like little pellets stinging him, but they quickly faded into the background and turned to numbness. The colors were wild now, making him even dizzier. He wanted to stop moving. It was making the colors hurt him.

He thought it was dark, but wasn't sure, and could not seem to open his eyes to check. This did not bother him, however. His hearing seemed to go at that point, because he could no longer hear the sounds of the bar or of the town.

The colors were in a frenzy and he could feel himself retching harder, rather unpleasantly. That was bad. But what was worse were the colors. They were moving so fast that he could not keep his eyes on them. After a moment of their new insane, violent dance, they suddenly jerked to black.

~~~

Giddy eddies of swirling black.

A rip-tide of darkness with the intent to drown.

A void of utter vacuity.

Silence colder than death.

Nothing tangible except the black.

Emptiness.

~~~

He woke to discover he had no headache. That was unusual. For such a night of carousing, he ought to not be able to walk today.

He yawned and opened his eyes.

He was in his own room in the bandit settlement, or rather, what was supposed to have been his room, the leader's quarters. He guessed it was Kouji's now, but that was acceptable. A slit of light peered through the shuttered windows, pale and wan. Early morning?

There was gentle, soft breathing beside him. He turned his head slightly to see who it was and it was Kouji, dozing lightly in a chair beside him.

He yawned again and Kouji stirred.

At first, the blue eyes did not seem to register him. Kouji stood up, then glanced down to him. Sea-colored eyes met fire-colored ones and the former widened. "G... Genrou!"

He smiled, a bit sleepy still, a bit abashed. "Ohayo, Kouji."

"You're awake!"

There was surprise in his voice. He wondered why. "Should I not be?"

Kouji sat on the bed, frowning. "You've been unconscious a week and a half."

He stared. "What?" But that would explain the lack of a headache.

Kouji frowned darkly at him. "You're a fucking moron."

He glared. "Thanks. I had help."

"Shit, you know how scared we all were?" Kouji said, his voice rising as he stood up. He turned so he could scowl at his friend. "Do you have any fucking idea how damn close you were to dying? Bastard!!" He turned and stalked away, fuming.

Death? What?

Kouji turned back to him, his eyes burning sapphire fire. "You think you have the right to fucking try to kill yourself whenever you damn well please? What the hell got into you??"

He sat up slowly, very aware that he felt dizzy and wondered how much he had been forced to eat over the past week and a half. He felt so weak. "Kouji..."

"Don't you dare 'Kouji' me, asshole!!"

He stopped, ashamed. He hadn't meant to do that. He only wanted to get drunk. He could barely remember anything, except refusing the girls that came to him and ordering drinks to be put on Kouji's tab. Shit. Maybe that had been a mistake.

"I am so pissed off right now, Genrou."

He looked up, trying not to smirk. "I couldn't tell."

Kouji was suddenly grabbing him by the collar. "I saved your fucking life. Do not get smart with me." His voice was low, furious, blazing with wrathful passion.

His eyebrows lowered, softening his face, and he reached up and touched Kouji's hands gently.

That was enough. Kouji dropped him and turned quickly, not facing him, moving to the other side of the room.

"Kouji..." he started, a bit unsure what to say. "I'm sorry."

No response.

"Kouji, what the hell do you want me to say?" he asked, his voice growing louder, fiercer. "I didn't mean to!"

Silence.

"Fucking bastard," he muttered and tried to get up to either hit him or hug him, and unsure of which to do.

"Genrou," said his soft voice. "I was so scared."

He stopped trying to move. It wasn't worth the effort and he wanted to concentrate on what Kouji was going to say.

"Damnit, I thought I was going to lose you," he said, his voice sounding tight.

He frowned slightly. "Kouji... I'm sorry."

"Shit, Genrou, no one thought you were going to make it. No one else would stay. They said they didn't want to watch you die." His normal control was slowly slipping from his tight grasp.

He watched, surprised. Kouji was always so strong. Had he really been that worried? He tried to stand up again and this time succeeded. He limped over to Kouji slowly.

"I was so scared," Kouji was saying lowly. "You've always been there for me. Just..."

He put his arms around him tightly, holding him from behind. "I'm fine now. See? Thanks to you."

Kouji pulled away and turned, frowning deeply. "Knock off the shit, Genrou."

He was startled. "What?"

"That's such fucking bullshit and you know it." Kouji was angry. "If it hadn't been for me, you never would have been there."

He reached out a hand to his best friend. "It was my choice."

"Some fucking choice!" Kouji yelled and stormed away to the other side of the room.

He gave up and hobbled over to the bed, sinking down slowly. He didn't need this. He had no hangover, but this weakness was possibly worse. He waited silently.

A few minutes dragged by as Kouji tried to regain his normal composure.

He sighed quietly and apparently Kouji heard it.

"Genrou, I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry for everything. I've screwed up your life completely. I nearly killed you." He took a deep shuddering breath and could say no more.

He frowned. "Kouji, I have a question."

There was no answer, but he continued anyway.

His voice was soft and gentle, hoping to soothe away Kouji's guilt. "Why do you love me?"

Total, freezing silence.

He prayed he had not overstepped his bounds with that question. He didn't want Kouji angry. He just wanted everything to go back to normal, to the sanctuary of peace that had been childhood.

A faint curse passed Kouji's lips as he turned and walked to the bed. He sat down beside him, keeping his face away, down. "You want to know why I love you." His voice was shaky. He had never heard him speak like this.

He nodded, afraid to say anything, afraid to reach out and touch him to assure him like he wanted.

Kouji clasped his hands together, searching for the right words. He inhaled deeply. "I won't say you're perfect. I don't want to lie." Had it been any other time, that would have been funny. "But you are the only one who has ever understood me. You've always been by my side. You're strong and courageous and self-sacrificing. You've done things no one else ever has or could. You care about everyone, though sometimes you don't show it. And... and... though no one else ever has... you care about me."

He was quiet. Were all those things true? He studied his hands, unable to come up with a reply.

"Hell, I'm not even gay," Kouji muttered. "We're both pretty screwed over."

He looked up. "What?"

Kouji turned to glower at him. "What were you thinking?"

He stopped. What did this mean? He wasn't gay... fine. Then, how could he love him? He was so confused! If Kouji wasn't gay, why had he professed love to him, then... then kissed him? He had a sudden thought and nearly burst out laughing, but stopped himself quickly, considering the seriousness of the situation. Maybe Kouji was really a girl! A little smile escaped, then he quashed it. He steadied himself. "Nothing, I guess... tell me what I should think then."

Kouji sighed. "You were on the right road."

Total confusion. He wished Kouji would make up his mind!

"It's hard to explain," he started, fiddling with his hands. "I don't, like, look at other men. Not like that, I mean. Just... you were always different. It wasn't something I could really help. So yes, I want you in that way. I want to spend my life with you. I want... I want you to love me the same way." He stopped and stared at his hands, which had ceased their movement.

He said nothing, unable to come up with a response.

Kouji stood up quietly. "You need to rest. I'll come back in a little while with food."

He nodded slowly, trying to absorb this new information.

Kouji shut the door quietly behind him.

Interesting. So Kouji had only ever looked at him? How did that change things? Did it change things? He laid back down and stared up at the ceiling blankly. A week and a half. And only Kouji had stayed. He smiled to himself. Kouji would always stay. He rested there and pondered the problem at hand.

~~~

It was almost another week before he could get about freely. The massive amounts of alcohol he had consumed had debilitated him considerably. Now he was sitting in the leader's room, beside Kouji, who was yelling at a pea-brained individual who had decided to raid a small farm north of the mountain without the leave of the leader.

To endure Kouji's wrath was a difficult feat. He watched, almost amused, but too pensive to really care.

The man left, sniveling, and Kouji sat down hard in the large chair. "Fucking idiot morons," he growled.

He laughed shortly, but did not reply.

There was no one else in the room, and his head was starting to hurt. He wondered what would happen if he made no decision, if he just let things go as they were. But that would be deciding in a way, wouldn't it?

"So, Genrou," Kouji began, his voice rather light, feeling better now that he had forced the absent bandit to see the error of his ways, "how are you today?"

He sighed. "I'm alive."

Kouji laughed. "That's a start at least."

A moment passed.

"What are we doing, Kouji?" he asked bitterly. "I can't pretend there isn't something there anymore. I can't let you go on hurting. I owe you more than that." He was glad no one else was in the room.

Kouji frowned slightly, then reached over and grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet, as he had done that first day he had arrived home. He sighed. "Well, at least you aren't scared of me anymore."

He pulled away, his eyes dark with frustration at himself and his indecision.

"You know what I want, Genrou," Kouji said, his voice low. "Now what do you want?"

That was a good question. "I want you to be happy."

"I am happy."

That stopped him. He stood up and crossed the room, leaning his arms on the window sill, gazing out. The rain had stopped while he was unconscious. Winter would be coming soon. Autumn fruits had already fallen from their trees, littering the ground with small corpses. He gazed, but saw nothing. "Then I don't know."

After he had woken up and was fine, Kouji had regained his seamless self-control. Now, the blue-eyed man did not reply. Silence often thundered louder than any noise could.

He clenched his fists a moment and then resolutely walked back over to Kouji. He kneeled in front of him so that they were eye to eye. Fire met sea in a clasp of vision. He leaned forward and kissed him deeply.

It only lasted a moment.

Kouji was shocked. He pulled away. "Genrou?"

He was frowning. "Isn't that what you want?"

Kouji watched him, his brows lowered. "Not if it makes you unhappy."

"Shit!" he yelled and raged away, back to the other side of the room. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

Kouji waited patiently. He knew he would explain.

Another deep breath. "While I was away... you remember the two other seishi you met? Nuriko and Hotohori?" After Kouji nodded, he continued. "Well, Nuriko loved Hotohori very much. Yet Hotohori was so in love with Miaka. He would never have considered another man in any case, yet everything Nuriko did was for him, and he never saw it. Never understood love, I guess. It was the exact same thing. He loved Miaka the same way Nuriko loved him, deeply and passionately, and he never fucking saw it!!" His voice was rising in anger. He had been far closer to Nuriko than Hotohori.

Kouji gave him a little smile. "Are you comparing this to us?"

He sighed. "I'm not going to let what happened to Nuriko and Hotohori happen to you. You're too important to me. I won't throw our friendship away."

Kouji smiled sadly at him and rose. "Don't you see that it is pointless without the heart?"

He wrenched his eyes toward Kouji. "What... what are you saying?"

Kouji walked a bit closer to him, still smiling slightly, not mockingly, just sad. "You don't seem to understand either. Without the heart, what good is it? If Hotohori had proclaimed love to Nuriko, yet did not have his heart there, what good would it have done either of them? They could have been satisfied for a little while, but it would not have lasted. It has to be from both, equally, to make anything work."

He was stunned. There was nothing he could say.

Kouji watched him a moment. "If anyone else needs me, I'll be in my room."

With that, he left.

He could feel his heart wanting to burst. He had tried so hard. It had taken so much for him to do that. Didn't he see? Frustrated tears began to form in his eyes, but he hastily brushed them away. He had to do something, not cry about it. He had to prove to himself what he merited. He had to test his emotions and see what he wanted, as Kouji had asked.

He had to decide where his heart was.

~~~

He stepped to the door, knocking lightly.

"Come in," called the voice from inside. At least Kouji did not answer himself when he was allowing people in.

He stepped in quickly, shivering. It was freezing outside. He quickly shut the door behind him.

"Genrou!" Kouji exclaimed, getting up from beside the fire where he had been adding more wood. "How are you?"

"Besides freezing to death?" he asked, inching nearer the fire.

Kouji laughed. "You know where coats are, idiot."

He scowled at him. "Not worth it for such a short walk." He sat down with his back to the fire, basking in the warmth with great pleasure.

"All right, so what's wrong that you come pounding though the freezing air to my room so late at night?" asked Kouji curiously.

He sighed. "I've decided."

Kouji raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

He smiled slightly and nodded, nervousness making his stomach hurt.

He hoped this was the right choice.

He wanted everything to work out.

He prayed that the promise of forever was secure.

He opened his mouth and began to explain his heart.

~~~

Outside, the first snowflake of winter drifted gently down from the dark, moonless sky.