I'll never know how it got into Goku's possession nor what possessed me to read the thing after confiscating it. Perhaps it was the way he plead with me to return the item, as if reaffirming its rarity and value would somehow reconstruct my choice of parenting.
It was not an act of fatherhood, nor motherhood, that struck down the iron rule that Goku was not to be returned his reading material. It wasn't even embarrassment. It might have been shame, at one point in time, but now it was more than that. This was a learning experience.
The book was about me. A 'doujinshii', if I remember correctly, that told its readers intimate details about my private life. Specifically, the material told its readers, with no few words, that Gojyo and I were an item. At the time, I was amused that the reading material seemed to progress further into our relationship than we had ourselves.
I found one thing unsettling. One thing about the book was entirely dead wrong. It said that our relationship was both simple and complex; a series of gasps; moments of shivering, blinding passion; lending heat to tender arcs of physical, shared carnal beauty. The author seemed to have the idea that Gojyo was my lover. This depiction was hardly accurate.
Our time together was pared, raw and au naturel. We do not share an act of beauty. We demand a throng of action, denying each other's right to freedom because denial was so good when it was honest and rough. I tortured him with every lasting encounter in the bedrooms and rivers: he enacted revenge with every quick fuck on the loam, sandy roads. I stole his sanity. He stole my mind. We took. That was the reiterated consummation of our fatuous love.
The doujinshii got every aspect of our relationship wrong. It portrayed us as romantics, not the best friends and sex maniacs we truly are. Still, I was not upset with the author's albeit naive way of expressing his or her 'appreciation' for my compatibility with the red-haired man. The piece of rose-colored drivel helped in one way.
A few days after the incident Goku approached me. I looked over the top of my teacup and smiled my usual blank cheerful smile. "Yes, Goku?"
And, as I knew he would, Goku begged for me to forgive him. A litany of apologies and promises ended with, "You still mad at me, Hakkai?"
I sipped my tea. "I suppose I can forgive you if," I began. Goku was hanging on my words like a lifeline. "If you let me borrow something."
"Sure! Anything, Hakkai!" Then a confused look spread across the youthful features. "But, uh, Hakkai? I don't really have anything that you and Sanzo didn't give me. Just clothes, food..." His eyes widened comically. "You're not going to take my food are you, Hakkai?"
"No," I assured him calmly. "Just let me borrow the rest of your doujinshii collection."