Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki. Minekura-sama owns all.
A/N: This, is the result of listening to the same song, treated in two different way. One by Frank Sinatra which gave it a jazzy feel. And another one would be Neon Genesis Evangelion version which is more… angsty and sappy. Combine the two, and poof! You get this.
Story title stolen from an analogy by John Steinback. Story summary shamelessly plagiarised from Terry Pratchett. Perfect (less imperfect than usual) grammar thanks to Aeis. Special thanks (because I don't do dedications) to EvilStorm who endured my... less than proper behaviour while writing this thing.
Enjoy... hopefully.
Fly me to the moon,
And let me play among the stars.
Let me see what spring is like on Jupiter and Mars.
- Fly Me to The Moon
It was a beautiful night. The full moon with its ethereal light, the stars with their playful twinkles, the night air light and crisp. It was the kind of night which would either lull one to sleep, or let one stay up late to think.
It was one of those nights. Those nights which filled him up from inside with contentment, and the security of the contentment allowed him to think, for thinking was a dangerous thing, one could never quite predict where it would be headed.
He turned to check that the rest were soundly asleep before leaving the jeep for a stroll in the woods. He wandered off for a little while before picking a tree and leaned against it. Looking up at the distant stars, he allowed himself to get lost in his sea of thoughts.
He thought about his past, about the happiness he once had, about the guilt he had for the lives he had taken. He thought about the present, about the people he was now surrounded by, about the feelings he now harboured. He thought about the future, about how it might all end in misery, about how it might just go back to normal.
He couldn't quite bring himself to let his mind settle on one subject. Let his mind stay too long on something and his heart would just sink with the gravity of it.
"What's with that look?"
He spun around, his hands instinctively by his side in battle stance.
"…Oh. It's you." And he let his hands slide. "I never knew you were awake."
"I never knew you were here."
Liar, he thought, a small wry smile made its way to his lips, "The night's too beautiful to pass up after all."
"Hn."
There was silence afterwards and he resumed his stargazing. It was always better with someone around. It did not matter who that person in question was; he found it easy, easier to keep his own thoughts and emotions in check when there was someone else around. He was used to it.
"…You're not the only one who thinks that the night is beautiful."
He blinked and turned to look at the crouching figure beside him, not knowing what would come out of this.
"It's not very likely that there will be more beautiful nights like this to come."
"I know, that's why I'm admiring it now."
"That's all?"
"That's all," he looked back at the stars, "They make me feel grateful for being alive."
Normally, this was enough. Being alive, it was one of the few things that only they could get the meaning of. But who said this was going to be normal?
"And? What do you plan to do about it?"
"Huh?" He blinked.
Suddenly, he found himself trapped. Trapped between a tree and a pair of serious eyes. They were so close that he could literally feel the breathing down his neck.
"What do you plan to do about it?"
His very first instinct was to look away. It was tempting, tempting to resist anything which threatened to get too close to his heart. He had no need to maintain eye contact, they all knew the need to nurse wounds in the dark, but there was something in those eyes.
"What do you plan to do about it?"
Something in those eyes.
"…I don't know." This time, he did look away.
He heard a loud sigh before he backed off, giving back his breathing space. And in the tone of an exasperated parent lecturing a child on the basic facts of life, he heard him said, "You know, times I swear your idea of fun is as bad as Sanzo's."
"And your idea of fun would be?"
"On a night like this? Dance."
It must be karma.
"But I can't dance."
"Oh yes you can. Anyone can dance. What's so difficult about moving those two feet of yours? What a way to waste a beautiful night. I could be off dancing with beautiful women instead. Where are the women? Where are the pubs?"
"…You sound… glum."
"That's because I am."
"Oh dear."
"Oh dear."
"Well then," still not looking at his companion, he asked, "Shall we?"
"What?"
"Dance?"
"…tell me, I'm hopelessly slow, aren't I?"
"Don't worry, I'm quite used to it by now."
From a small corner of his eye, he saw mock annoyance cross his face, but it was soon replaced by a self-depreciating smile.
"So, may I?" He bowed and offered a hand to him.
"My pleasure." With a small smile, he took up the offered hand which immediately proceeded to spin him around in wild circles.
He felt himself stepping on a boot. He stared down at the ground, trying to avoid stepping on feet which were not his. He felt himself stumble. A pair of hands held him.
"Keep on moving. Don't bother."
"Feel the beat. Don't stop."
"Close your eyes. Don't think."
He did as he was told and closed his eyes. Relaxing, he allowed himself to be swept away by the unheard music, led by the pair of calloused hands.
"Frankly Gojyo," he said as they spun around in circles again, "I never knew you to be such a romantic." Laughter was heard, but there was no other response.
Occasionally, he would still stumble, but there would be this pair of hands, to support him, to guide him, to move him. He knew that there was only himself to believe in of course. But times like this, when all was dark and nothing could be seen, it was easy, so easy, to just believe that yes, there was something out there, always, for him.
It had a surreal feel, to dance alongside the wind, to be showered in the moonlight, to swirl under the canopy of stars. It had a surreal feel and it relaxed him from within, clearing out incessant worrying from his mind, allowing a place for him to feel, to feel contentment, to feel serenity, to feel… alive.
It was a fairy dance, it must be. Only something like that could make one feel so light, feel the magic pulsing in the veins, to feel the joy rushing out from within, it had to be a fairy dance.
And so, for a long time, under the full moon, they danced.
Like a pair of fairies.