Chapter 1: The Sanzo ikkou come to a pleasant town and cross paths with a very unpleasant fortune-teller. / Chapter 2: The ikkou's battle with the shikigami and with the Kougaiji group. / Chapter 3: Hakkai's condition leaves the group little choice but to stay in town for a little while to recoup. / Chapter 4: Gojyo soaks in the bath to try to escape the tumultuous emotions brought about by his encounter with his half-brother and by his reexamination of his feelings for Hakkai. Hakkai has a similar idea. / Chapter 5: Hakkai gets a massage, then swoons... right into Gojyo's arms. / Chapter 6: Gojyo is increasingly protective of Hakkai and finds difficult to leave his side.

Chapter 7

Hakkai pushed the door closed after Gojyo disappeared through it; his fingers lingered a moment to trace the wood grain, elegant to the eyes yet rough to the skin, before he turned to face Sanzo. The vulnerability he felt at Gojyo's absence surprised him.

"What do you know about Chin Yisou?"

No matter how long Hakkai had known Sanzo, the priest's directness still managed to catch him off-guard at times. The initial surprise passed almost immediately, and Hakkai walked over to Gojyo's bed to sit opposite Sanzo. A worry flared in his mind, and he looked around suddenly. "Where's Hakuryu?"

"He's with Goku. Don't change the subject."

"Ah." Hakkai blew out a long breath and ran fingers through his still-damp hair. "Honestly, Sanzo, I know nothing of him." One pale eyebrow raised. The violet gaze hardened through the shroud of smoke. Hakkai continued before Sanzo accused him of holding back. "There's... obviously a history of some sort. Whether it involves Chin Yisou directly or indirectly... I honestly don't know." Then in a voice almost too soft to hear, he added, "A lot from that night is ... hazy."

Sanzo's gaze held him hard for a few moments longer before finally breaking away to glare at a spot on the wall. "Dammit. We don't need this, Hakkai."

"I know that, Sanzo." A touch of anger added strength to Hakkai's reply. Of course they didn't need this. Hakkai of all people knew that. Actions had consequences. He knew and accepted that fact. Over the years, he had learned to live with the results of his actions, as his actions had been the result of others' actions. An endless cycle. Give and take. Yin and Yang. That was life. And death.

What he couldn't accept, however, was this feeling as though he were a hooked fish—swimming along a river, bearing the pain of the hook yet ready to move on from it, and just when the belief that all might turn out all right, there was the sharp pain and pull at the hook that hadn't gone after all but had only been trailing the line, waiting for the perfect moment to snag the present with the barbs of the past. And this Chin Yisou held the pole.

Feeling as if the net were closing around him, Hakkai rose abruptly and crossed the room to open the window wider in an attempt to disperse Sanzo's cigarette smoke. The priest continued staring straight ahead as though Hakkai still sat across from him, yet Hakkai knew Sanzo observed all.

"What worries me," Sanzo said at length, "is that Chin Yisou was in this town waiting for us. It was no stroke of fortune that crossed our paths with his."

Hakkai barely repressed a shiver. "...He's been following us—me. He's been following me."

Sanzo drew on the cigarette, and the tobacco and paper made the faintest rustling sound as the cherry climbed farther along the stick. The smoke broke and billowed, the stream interrupted by Sanzo's words. "I would think so, but I don't know for how long. The point is, we can leave this town tomorrow—"

"—but he'll follow." Hakkai finished the thought, and Sanzo's blond head nodded, turning ever so slightly to view Hakkai in his peripheral. Hakkai returned to sit on Gojyo's bed. "What do we do?" he asked at last.

Sanzo's violet, penetrating gaze held him for several moments—not angry, but hard and determined. "We'll leave tomorrow. Continue the mission. When he comes on us in the wild, at least there won't be so many damned people in the way."

There won't be so many people hurt because of me, Hakkai's mind amended. He said only, "Yes, Sanzo."

With a curt nod, the priest rose. "Rest tonight. You'll need to be strong enough to travel tomorrow."

Eyes cast downward, Hakkai nodded, saying again, "Yes, Sanzo."

Sanzo stood for the span of several heartbeats, then left the room, leaving the door open in his wake.


For the second time that day, Gojyo found himself carrying a tray of food to his and Hakkai's room. This time he would make sure Hakkai ate enough, got enough rest, and sure as shit didn't take a hot bath afterward. For someone who was so skilled at taking care of others, Hakkai had an incredible history of doing damage to himself.

Gojyo released tension he didn't know he had been holding when he saw that the door to his room was open and Sanzo had apparently departed. Good. So the little meeting hadn't taken too long. He stepped into the room, pausing at the thrill he felt at seeing Hakkai lying on his bed. The healer's eyes were open. Gojyo pushed the door closed with a foot. "Yo."

"Hello, Gojyo." Hakkai's gaze registered the tray, and he smiled tiredly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Gojyo replied with a wry smile. "I'm not going to let you use it as a pillow this time. Sit up." He placed the tray on the bedside table and moved to help Hakkai rise to a sitting position before seating himself next to Hakkai.

"Ah, this is your bed, isn't it?" Hakkai noted, making to rise.

Gojyo stayed him with a hand to his shoulder. "Sit." He'd barely caught Hakkai in time when he'd previously fallen asleep in his food. He wanted there to be less distance to cover should he need to do so again. Besides, he craved the proximity. He leaned against Hakkai in a familiar playful manner, reaching across him to take up one of the plates to push into Hakkai's hands.

Hakkai didn't move away, he noticed. In fact, the healer seemed to lean against him in return. Was it Gojyo's imagination? He didn't think so, yet he couldn't bring himself to believe.

When Hakkai rested a hand on Gojyo's knee, his breath caught.

"Thank you," Hakkai began, "for... for looking out for me." Bitterness filled his chuckle despite its breathiness. "You get stuck doing that a lot, it would seem. I'm sorr—"

Gojyo covered Hakkai's hand with his own, cutting off his words. "Don't apologize, 'Kai. Heh, your guts falling out of you gave me the best friend I ever had." He winced inwardly at how that sounded, but dammit, it was the truth.

Hakkai's laugh this time sounded more genuine. "Ah, all right. I guess I never thought of it that way before. I..." His green eyes grew wide.

Gojyo had taken hold of Hakkai's hand and now raised it in front of them, gently rubbing small circles in the tender soft skin on the back of the other man's hand with the pad of his thumb. He watched Hakkai's face closely, studying any hint of reaction that might slip past the healer's normally fortress-like defenses. His own heart pounded in his ears. When was the last time he'd been so nervous putting the moves on anyone? Gods, probably not since his first time with someone. And normally he wouldn't consider kissing someone's hand "putting the moves" on them. Usually a good ass-grab filled that bill, but somehow he doubted Hakkai would be ready for that just yet.

He raised the back of Hakkai's hand the last few inches to his own lips and planted a soft kiss there. To make up for the chasteness of the kiss, he allowed his lips to linger there while his pulse thrummed in his neck. Gojyo continued holding Hakkai's gaze, watched as a pink flush rose in Hakkai's high cheekbones and then across the bridge of his nose. The healer's lips were slightly parted. Gods, how Gojyo wanted to clasp the back of Hakkai's neck and pull him into a smothering kiss. Those parted lips were just begging to be explored by tongue.

Gojyo broke off the kiss, gave Hakkai's hand a little squeeze, then released it. Now wasn't the time to explore this... this possibility. He'd done what he had wanted to—made a small gesture and gauged Hakkai's reaction. The healer had blushed: that could have been mere embarrassment. He had breathed shallowly and rapidly through parted lips: that could have been discomfort in an awkward situation. The simple truth was that Gojyo had begun the process of putting himself out there, gingerly testing his weight on an ancient wooden bridge; even if the first plank held... and the second... that didn't mean that—

A slight intake of breath—not quite a gasp, but in the right territory—punctuated another increase in his heart rate. Gojyo looked down at the hand that Hakkai had placed again on his knee.


Gojyo laid a hand on Hakkai's shoulder, gentle but firm. "Sit."

The one-word commands the half-youkai had been giving Hakkai amused him to some degree. Usually Gojyo was the type to let others make their own choices as long as they were informed and were prepared to accept the consequences. Except, it would seem, when it came to Hakkai himself. The very first time they had laid eyes on each other—Gojyo looking down in alarm, Hakkai's glazed eyes rolling up and buffeted by raindrops—Hakkai, well, Gonou, had been in the midst of accepting the consequences of his decision. But Gojyo had stopped him, had taken that decision away from him.

To this day, Hakkai wasn't sure if he loved him or hated him for it.

The decision to remain seated was, at least, a minor one. Hakkai re-settled his weight without protest. The warmth of Gojyo grew in intensity as the kappa leaned into then reached across Hakkai—another demonstration of how comfortable Gojyo was with physical contact. Hakkai had seen people like that all his life. Some shied away from any contact whatsoever, such as Sanzo; others, like himself, didn't seek it but didn't shun it, either. Others still took it too far, clinging to others like a shipwreck victim clinging to flotsam—Goku could sometimes be that way when he was feeling particularly vulnerable, but Hakkai couldn't fault him for that. And then there were the ones like Gojyo, comfortable with touching and being touched. It didn't always mean sexual contact, either.

Hakkai had first experienced that with her. Yes, the sexual contact had come, but more importantly for both of them was the fact that they now had someone to share life with, someone to share a part of the world, someone to be as close as physically possible. Hakkai figured that probably fell into the "clingy" category, but it had been mutual. They had clung to each other when for so much of their lives they had been alone, adrift in a turbulent sea.

The plate Gojyo pushed into his hands brought him from his reverie, short-lived yet eternal all at once. Funny how memories worked that way. Funny how memories could revive physical pain. The longing in his heart for his flotsam, his Sun, made it difficult to breathe.

"Longing" seemed an apt word for the emotion. It wasn't until Hakkai had come back to himself, inching away from death, that he felt his very soul reaching out, farther and farther, reaching for what was no longer there. Heartache felt like the soul pulling from the body, growing dangerously long and thin in its quest to reach that which was, now and forever, unreachable...

Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Gojyo, Hakkai had rarely felt more alone. Unthinking, he laid his hand upon his companion's knee. He needed to feel a friend's physical presence as much as possible right now. The emptying pull of longing sharpened to an ache of gratitude. "Thank you. For... for looking out for me." An empty sound escaped him. "You get stuck doing that a lot, it would seem." I bring pain and hardship wherever I go. "I'm sorr—"

"Don't apologize, 'Kai." Gojyo's large hand all but entirely covered Hakkai's own where it rested upon the kappa's knee. Gojyo chuckled mirthlessly. "Your guts falling out of you gave me the best friend I ever had."

Hakkai laughed, because if he didn't laugh he would break down and weep at those words. "Ah, all right. I guess I never thought of it that way before. I..."

Gojyo's warm fingers had snaked around Hakkai's hand, holding it. He gently pulled Hakkai's hand up off of his knee while smoothing his thumb across the back of Hakkai's hand in a circular motion. Gojyo's eyes caught his and held them, not once flitting away, not even as he raised Hakkai's hand to his lips and kissed it.

Coherent thought fled Hakkai under Gojyo's intense scarlet gaze. A patch of heat grew in his hand, coursed to his core, blossomed in his face like fever. His breaths became shallow puffs that scarcely moved air. He could feel Gojyo's own breath against the back of his hand. One cycle... two... a third, and finally Gojyo lowered Hakkai's hand again and released it.

The warmth drained from Hakkai's hand like a dream upon waking. Soon it would be forgotten entirely. In an act of desperation, he lay his hand again upon Gojyo's knee to reassure himself that there were others here in this world. Sanzo had been in the room only minutes ago; he could still smell the cigarettes and the scent of the man himself. But the priest had been there and gone again. Fleeting. Gojyo, however, was here. Here now.

Gojyo was studying him, and a strange expression lay behind his eyes that Hakkai couldn't quite identify. Finally the kappa broke the silence. "Eat, 'Kai."

Hakkai blinked. The spell was broken. He laughed breathily.

He did manage to eat well, and he felt more grounded for it. His body had something to work with other than his own exhaustion and dark memories. That didn't prevent the need for sleep from dropping over him like a shroud. Being careful not to disturb the tray that held his and Gojyo's now-empty bowls, he rose weakly. He took a staggered step toward his bed, but something stopped him. Surprised, he turned and realized that Gojyo had a hold of his hand. Such sympathy and softness filled the kappa's expression.

"You don't have to be alone tonight, 'Kai."

Hakkai stared at him, unsure of what to say. What exactly did Gojyo mean by that?

A scratching at the door caused both to turn their attention in that direction. "Chee!"

With an apologetic smile, Hakkai pulled from Gojyo's grip and opened the door for Hakuryu. The little dragon flew in, circled the room, then landed near the tray to begin licking the plates. Hakkai closed the door again. He turned. Gojyo had already pulled back the covers of his bed and lay down though nightfall was still well away. He held a corner of the blankets back in invitation.

"Come here," he said.

Hakkai's heart skipped a beat. "Uh... Gojyo?"

"I'll behave, I promise." The kappa's familiar flirty demeanor returned, and then it faded again under a wave of seriousness. "Come on. You've not been sleepin'."

"...I don't think I've ever seen you go to bed before midnight," Hakkai observed, amused. He looked at the waiting space beside Gojyo. "And I'm not sure..."

Gojyo rolled his eyes. "What is it you're always tellin' us? If something doesn't work, try somethin' else. Your sleeping arrangements haven't been working. So we're tryin' something else."

"Ah... all right. Um." He sat on the edge of Gojyo's bed, waited a moment before awkwardly pulling his feet up under the covers. He'd never felt so nervous sharing a bed with someone before. In fact, he— "Ah!"

Gojyo's long arm snaked around him and pulled him the rest of the way into bed, and in moments Hakkai found himself lying on his side, his back against Gojyo's front. The kappa's arm lay draped heavily over him and his legs intertwined with Hakkai's own.

Hakkai tensed. "Gojyo..."

"Shh. It's ok. Just relax."

Hakkai forced himself to relax and, to his surprise, he found that the head-to-toe contact with Gojyo's intense body heat soothed him rather than made him feel self-conscious. He was pretty sure he felt an erection against his backside, but it was Gojyo, and physical reactions like that were only to be expected. His eyelids began to grow heavy. He drew a deep breath and when he released it, his body relaxed more deeply into the rest it so desperately needed.

Before drifting off, he heard Gojyo whisper softly, "That's it. Sleep. I'll keep you safe."