The door closed softly and Gojyo was gone. The bar was calling for him again, it's siren's song loud in the cold night and who was Hakkai to tell him to ignore it. It wasn't like they were more than friends. Good friends to be sure, but only friends, none the less. Good friends who shared a bed at night, sleeping only inches apart but to Hakkai, it might as well be a hundred miles that stretched between them.
Sighing, Hakkai sat down at the table, his steaming hot tea in his favorite cup. The white bone china cup with the green vines on it. Gojyo had picked it out at a little secondhand store in town, saying it reminded him of Hakkai for some reason. Maybe it was how Hakkai talked about putting in a garden that made Gojyo pick up the cup, Hakkai couldn't be sure. Hakkai had just smiled back at Gojyo, his heart skipping a beat as he looked into those blood red eyes. His hands shook as he took the cup and saucer and added it to the little basket he carried over his arm.
Gojyo didn't know what he looked like in his true form and Hakkai was determined to keep it that way. The less Gojyo saw the real him, the easier it would be to hide behind smiles and fake happiness. Letting Gojyo see the vines that snaked over his skin would be too much for Hakkai. After all, they were just friends, nothing more.
He stared at the unopened book on the kitchen table. The clock ticked away the seconds and then the minutes, it's quiet chimes letting Hakkai know that a half an hour had passed since Gojyo had left.
The windows. He should check the windows and make sure they were locked. As if his body weighed twice as much, Hakkai slowly struggled to get up from the table and went to check the window over the sink. His feet felt as if they had turned into lead while he was sitting at the table. It was locked, as Hakkai knew it would be. He wiggled the lock, making sure it was fully in place. It was and Hakkai was lost again, his thoughts on the man down at the bar.
Wandering around the kitchen, Hakkai checked the other window. It too was locked. Moving into the bedroom, Hakkai's eyes fell on the bed he shared with Gojyo. Cold and empty, like his life.
Why? Why did he have to fall in love with his best friend? His best friend that loved women, all kinds of women. Like the woman who ran the vegetable stand. Yes, she was old and wrinkled but that didn't stop Gojyo from flirting with her, earning them an extra tomato or two. A wink from Gojyo and she would blush furiously, her hand going over her heart, telling Gojyo that he was a cad. Gojyo would just lean further over the piles of tomatoes and take her hand in his and place a kiss on the back of it.
Hakkai would smile, wishing it was his hand Gojyo was holding, cursing himself for wanting the impossible. Wanting Gojyo to take his hand, hold him, kiss him until he was breathless. Until the world disappeared all around them and it was just the two of them, Gojyo telling him that he loved him and leading Hakkai into the bedroom, closing the door, closing out the world. Before he think too much and begin to hope too much, Hakkai left the bedroom.
Snow.
Hakkai had forgotten for a moment it was that late in the year and the first snowfall would be soon. Wiping the condensation from the front window, he looked out, watching the path in front of their house turn white. Covering up the ugly, scrabbled grass that he worked so hard on this summer but he couldn't make it resemble anything like a lawn. It had seemed determined to stay ugly and bleak looking. His breath fogged up the glass and Hakkai wiped a pane of glass clear again.
It was so quiet, the snow muffling the sounds of town and wildlife. Briefly, Hakkai wondered if this was what Goku's life was like for hundreds of years. Quiet, isolated, lonely. Goku didn't even have a ticking clock to keep him company, although, right now the clock wasn't much company. It only served to remind Hakkai how empty his life was at this moment.
Wet.
His cheeks were wet, Hakkai realized. When did that happen? How did he lose the tight control he had over his emotions? He didn't even cry when Kanan died, he was too dead inside. But, he could cry over Gojyo? No, he wouldn't even begin to think about what that meant because if he admitted to himself that he loved Gojyo more than he loved Kanan, he would truly lose his mind tonight.
She was supposed to be his other half, the half of him that was good and pure and she was, until she was ripped from his life. He had been perfectly happy to die that night. Like the animal he'd become. Rain washed his lifeblood away from his body in rivers and he was losing consciousness when a red blur appeared beside him. Vaguely, he could hear Gojyo talking to him but the rain had muffled the words.
It was Gojyo's eyes that brought him back from the brink of giving up. Not the color of them but how familiar they looked. As if he'd seen them somewhere or some place before and he remembered them and knew he was safe.
Leave.
He had to leave this house before Gojyo got home. Go to Sanzo and beg for a place to sleep for the night. Then, head east or west or south or north, far away from Gojyo and this unrequited love. It would bring him nothing but pain and hurt.
The suitcase was on the top shelf of the closet. Surely, Gojyo would understand that Hakkai would somehow repay him for the suitcase and be ok with him taking it. Opening up the chest of drawers, Hakkai pulled out his meager amount of clothing and tossed them in the battered suitcase, not caring for once about packing neatly. The clothes lay jumbled in the suitcase, just like his emotions right now. Tears ran unchecked down his cheeks as he packed.
"Awfully cold out there. Late too."
Gojyo stood in the doorway of the bedroom, his coat white with snow, his brilliant red hair wet. An unlit cigarette dangled between his full lips.
"Sanzo's not up this late. He's gonna be pissed if you wake him up now."
Clutching his worn jeans to his rapidly beating heart, Hakkai silently pleaded for Gojyo to turn around and leave. Go into the bathroom, take a shower. Go to the kitchen and smoke. Just leave.
"Yes, well, that's a chance I'll just have to take." Hakkai continued to pack. His hands shook as he shoved a pair of pajamas into the suitcase.
If a woman's tears made Gojyo upset, Hakkai's tears ripped his heart out. Why? Why couldn't he see that he was in love with him? That he couldn't live without him, that he would die without him. It wasn't just how Hakkai took care of him, it was how Hakkai poured out his love into every thing he did for Gojyo.
Gojyo might be dense but he wasn't stupid. He'd caught the shy glances his way, the unspoken love. How Hakkai folded Gojyo's clothes and ran his hand over the shirts, as if he was pretending that he was running his hand over Gojyo's body. The fussing over him when he caught a cold a few weeks ago. Hakkai had stayed up all night until Gojyo's fever broke, making himself sick in the process.
Didn't Hakkai see how much he meant to him?
A hand reached into the suitcase and took out the pajamas. Hakkai watched silently as Gojyo carefully refolded them and put them back in their proper drawer. He did the same with Hakkai's shirts and pants.
"Gojyo?"
"If you leave, who's gonna remind me which day to take the trash out?"
Wiping the tears away, Hakkai smiled at Gojyo. It wasn't a love confession but neither of them were ready for that now.
"Yes, you need me."
"Damn right, I need you."
The snow fell all around the little house, blanketing the world white, making it look fresh and new again. Inside the little house, the cold around two hearts began to melt.