Well, another update. Again, sorry if it's abstracted, like most of my work these days, or if it's lacking that flair, but really, I just don't have the time, and sadly, I'm losing touch with the characters. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOOooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

Trading Spaces 11, In The Front Row (With popcorn)

"I'm in the front row, the front row

With popcorn

I get to see you, see you

Close up"

(Alanis Morisette)

Hakkai released a heavy gust of air and sat back on his heels, blowing his bangs from his forehead momentarily. Beside him, Yohji slept fitfully on the bed, occasionally grunting or giving a soft groan. At least he was in better shape than he had been. The healer was sure he hadn't seen injuries that dire in a long time. Which begged the question as to what exactly the playboy had been doing when he'd received such injuries. Hakkai had been up all night running himself in circles around the problem, and now, in the chill, pale light of dawn, he still didn't have any answers he liked.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a knock on the door.

"Come in." he called softly, not wanting to disturb the man sleeping beside him. Sleep had come hard-earned, and only after Yohji had managed to explain to Hakkai that that was the purpose served by one of the many syringes in Omi's elaborate first aid kit. Despite his inability to use his energy to heal, the kid certainly had everything else covered. Perhaps the Sanzo-ikko could learn a thing or two from some advanced-preparedness. Although there was many a thing in Omi's kit that Hakkai had never seen before, and he wasn't quite sure that he wanted to know their use.

The door opened and a dark-haired head peeped through. The healer recognized Ken instantly. The brunet looked around quickly and blushed sheepishly when he spotted Hakkai squatting next to Yohji on the bed. He cleared his throat nervously.

"Ahh….Sorry about um….this…." he began, waving a golden-hued arm about carelessly. He seemed slightly more subdued than Goku, and somehow Hakkai found his current behavior endearing. It reminded him of the many times he'd been in the position of caring for Goku as a parent or older sibling.

"Oh it's no trouble." he assured the nervous young man with a friendly smile. Ken only seemed to look more uncomfortable.

"Uhh…ok. If you say so, but I find that kinda hard to believe. Let me get him outta here and then you can get some peace." Ken replied, trotting towards the bed. Hakkai raised a hand to stop him.

"No please. He's fine now. I'd rather if you didn't move him. It could cause further injury." Ken froze in his tracks and stood in the middle of the room, shifting his feet anxiously. After his first experience with Sanzo, he really had no desire for any repeat performances. Which brought him beneath the dilemma of what to do. Aya was unconscious on pain killers, and Yohji wasn't going to be much help either. Ken himself was tired and over-worked, and he hadn't slept a wink all night. He just couldn't think straight.

"Umm…." he began eloquently, rubbing unconsciously at a bruise dancing along one high, attractively angular cheekbone. Hakkai frowned at him.

"Are there others injured?" he asked slowly. Ken blanched nervously and started shifting a bit more forcefully.

"Oh no! Ran's ok. I took care of him last night too." he assured in a rush, waving his hands before him in a placating gesture. Hakkai narrowed his eyes.
"And you?" he asked, raising his eyebrows pointedly in Ken's direction. The brunet blushed.

"M' fine." he mumbled. Hakkai's frown deepened, unconvinced.

"I see. What exactly happened, that I seem to be the only one to have missed out on?" he asked, a sharpness beneath the polite tone. Ken fidgeted further. The healer suspected that like Goku, Ken probably couldn't lie very well. He wasn't very far off. That open, honest face tried to close and failed miserably. Ken seemed to hesitate for a great amount of time before his answer finally came, albeit haltingly.

"I'd really rather not say." Hakkai nearly face-vaulted. Reading his expression, Ken put his hands out hurriedly again. Before either man could get anything out, however, a hoarse voice responded from the bed.

"Shit Ken. You're a lousy damn bluffer." Yohji pushed the blankets back and struggled weakly to rise, ignoring Hakkai's sound of protest. He fumbled around on the nightstand, pulling a face when he realized that his cigarettes were nowhere to be found. "Now what the hell are you two yelling about, that you can't give a good-looking guy some beauty-rest? It isn't easy staying this handsome, you know. " Ken's immediate reaction was to curl one half of his mouth up derisively.

"Hey you lazy bum. Why don't you sleep in your own damn bed and leave this guy alone?" he snapped out teasingly. Yohji raised an eyebrow at him and Hakkai looked a bit perturbed.

"Oh my, he's fine, really—" the healer began, raising his own hands in placation when Yohji spoke again.

"Sorry bucko. Couldn't make it to my own bed if I tried. 'Sides, Hakkai is doing a pretty good job here." he replied, sounding as casual as he could for a man who sounded as if he were dying of bronchitis. Ken frowned angrily.

"That's not what I'm asking you Yohji, and you know it." he replied, his hands curling into fists. Hakkai looked back and forth between the two as the tension thickened in the room. Yohji met Ken's agitated gaze with his own cool emerald.

"It's a little late for that, don't you think Kenken?"

"Well fuck if I know! I'm not the one who showed-up in that kind of condition at another guy's door!" the brunet yelled back, getting angry. Yohji's emerald eyes spit fire, and Hakkai was aware that while Goku and Gojyo argued, it was never quite this heavy. He wondered idly if he was going to have to step in soon. He hoped not. The subject matter of the argument could prove to be informative.

"What did you want me to do Ken? You were a little busy with the ice-prince, and the liters of blood I lost prevented me from remembering that Omi wasn't exactly himself when I needed him to lend a helpful hand. "Yohji bellowed back. Hakkai tried to ignore the way the electricity in the man's normally relaxed gaze made his skin tingle. Ken opened his mouth a couple times and then shut it, looking away.

"I would have taken care of you too. But it doesn't matter now anyways." he responded, almost too silent to hear. Yohji's gaze softened.

"Hey pal, you had enough to deal with. This was bound to happen eventually, you know, having someone else sharing our bodies and all." Ken flinched, his shoulders folding in on themselves despite the levity of the statement.

"Yeah well…" he trailed off, shrugging tensely. Hakkai smiled gently, leaning forward.

"It's really just fine. It wasn't a problem." he tried again. Ken pinned him with a look that was a mix of heavy depression, guilt, and anger.

"That wasn't what I was worried about really, but thanks all the same." he replied mildly, sounding weary in the deflation of his anger.

"You alright pal? You aren't lookin' so hot." Yohji interrupted. Ken shot him a glare, some color infusing itself back into his cheeks.

"I'm fine dammit. Worry about yourself. I'm gonna go make sure Aya's ok." he growled, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He paused at the threshold. "Thanks…Hakkai." and then he was gone. As soon as his footsteps had retreated down the hall, Yohji was pushing himself into a standing position, weaving unsteadily on his feet. Hakkai steadied him, alarmed, trying once more in vain to ignore the thrills that coursed through him from simply being in close proximity to the man.

"Yohji, what on earth are you trying to do?" he exclaimed. Yohji tried to push him away, failing spectacularly.

"I've gotta go make sure Ken is ok. Aya too. They both took a couple hard hits last night, and I wanna make sure that they're both taken care of. Ken tends to be the kinda guy who'll bleed to death while he helps everyone else. Omi too sometimes." Here the playboy paused and levered Hakkai with an odd look that the Healer was certain had deeper meaning. Hakkai raised his own eyebrows in return.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black, don't you think?" he asked, glancing meaningfully at Yohji's many bandaged wounds. The playboy scowled. Hakkai only offered a shrug. "You're quite injured yourself. Do I get a reason as to why I spent my night and morning sewing up the dire wounds of a florist? " here Yohji flinched.

"Ahhh…about that…it's…a rather touchy subject." he began slowly.

"Well, I'm a rather sensitive person. Yohji, if there's the potential for any of us to wind up in a battle situation, I think we'd like to know what we're up against. Honestly, you already know about our demon battles, so why should your after-school hobbies be any different?" Hakkai replied.

Yohji choked at the badly-made retort, and took a moment to regain his breath. Finally, he looked up, catching the healer's deep-green gaze squarely. Sighing heavily and stooping his shoulders he turned his gaze out the window where the sun was dawning over the horizon with bursts of pale pink and orange. A reverse sunset.

"Hakkai…I'm not a good man. I know I told you that before, but there were other reasons. We…Ken, Omi, Aya, and I, we're assassins. But not like you. We kill people Hakkai. Humans. And we don't do it for glory or God, although I'm sure we all have our reasons. But when it comes right down to it, we murder for money. There isn't any divine entity telling us to do it for the greater good. Although I suppose we'd all like to think it's for the greater good. But those are just pretty words. Pretty words for an ugly face." when he finished his speech, Yohji didn't have the heart to find Hakkai's gaze. The room fell into a heavy silence and the playboy leaned a fore-arm on the window frame, frowning at the world below. He was startled by a light touch on his shoulder; a comforting touch.

"Yohji, the fact that what we do is expected of us by the heavens doesn't make it right. Those things that I did... All those demons that I killed…Yohji, they were people too. They're no different from humans. In fact, it almost makes things worse since they're not even in their right minds. And killing all those demons…Yohji that made me a demon too. And so is Gojyo, and so is Goku. God Yohji, Goku is a 500 year old demon with a side so dark that it takes pleasure only in the total annihilation of the enemy. Which is everyone who is not Seiten Taisei. Sanzo is the only human among us, and he isn't exactly the most sterling example of a monk, if you hadn't guessed. So don't think that somehow we're better than you, or any less guilty, because we aren't." the Healer's voice was calm and somewhat bitter sounding. Yohji chuckled mirthlessly.

"How can you be so unconcerned?" he barked, burying his face in his palm. The hand on his shoulder squeezed.

"Is this the worry? Do all of you fear that somehow we'll pass judgment on what you do?" Hakkai pressed. Yohji shook his head, still not looking up.

"It's more than that Hakkai." Emphatically, he gestured down at his wounds. "We're worried about the hazard that a body-swap during a mission could cause. Weiss; Ken, Omi, Aya, and I, are constantly thrust into enemy territory without back-up. There are many times when one simple mistake could cost us not only our own lives, but the lives of our comrades. Would you wish to find yourself suddenly swapped with Omi when you're in the depth of a battle with Prince Kougaiji, in his own territory?" The hand withdrew here, and Yohji hunched his shoulders inwards against the loss.

"Yohji, you don't think that we're worried about something like that anyways? It's the same for us; a mistake can cost everything. In our case, it could cost the entire free-world. Why would you feel that we were any different? Both sides have chosen to make their own sacrifices to ensure what we can only hope is the greater good. But in the end, a sacrifice is all we can make, and that's the only thing we have to live with." Hakkai wanted to be annoyed. Yohji was treating the circumstances of his group as if they were separate or somehow greater than those of the Sanzo-ikkou, when really they were two sides of the same coin. But he couldn't be. He knew that like himself, Yohji felt as if his blackened soul made him more loathsome than even those he probably killed. He simply couldn't see that he was no better or worse than any of their number. The lanky man shook his head.

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point. We're so used to hiding…it's our instinct now, to protect our bloody little secret at all costs. We'd die to protect it. We don't have a choice." Hakkai narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Every man has a choice, Yohji." he said calmly. Yohji turned and gave him one of the most heartbreaking smiles Hakkai was sure he'd ever seen.

"Sure." he replied cheerily. "But for some strange reason I can't bring myself to embrace my own death yet. Isn't that odd? I can embrace death itself, but only for others. And I, who deserve it most." The healer frowned.

"Yohji. The act of killing is a judgment you make that the value of the life of the person you face is less than that of your own life. If you can still place the value of your own life above that of others, then perhaps you are not as worthless as you would believe." Yohji stared at Hakkai for a moment, and then opened his mouth, looking away. No sound came out however. He frowned at the window, a craving for cigarettes suddenly hitting him hard.

"I need a cigarette." he mumbled, turning to leave. Hakkai held out a hand, stopping him.

"No, you don't. You need to heal. You need to lie down, and if I have to tie you to the bed to make it so, I will." Yohji met his serious gaze with a playful quirk of his eyebrow, and Hakkai watched as the emotion that had swum along the surface just moments ago was pushed away and shut down. The shades of emerald lightened to jade, and he was reminded of a storm's passing, albeit temporarily.

"Hakkai, I'd no idea you were into that sort of thing…" the lanky man quipped with a little grin. Hakkai felt a corner of his own mouth turn upwards of its own accord.

"Oh my Yohji. I'm afraid you're going to have to wait until after you recover for things of that nature. Surely you know that." he replied, enjoying the way that Yohji's other eyebrow joined the first in an amused shock.

"How silly of me. Best not push things." he managed, allowing Hakkai to get him back in bed. Hakkai winked at him.

"An excellent choice. I'm going to make some tea and see what Ken is up to. I'll be back. You'd certainly be wise to remain in bed. " the Healer warned, turning to go. Yohji watched him, trying to decode his body movements in answer to the unspoken challenge he'd just received. What was Hakkai up to? And how on earth had the man managed to get so much information out of Yohji again? He had a feeling that if he didn't find a way to get his guard back up, he'd never be able to prevent Hakkai from getting anything he wanted.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooOOOoooOOooooOOO

Omi groaned, letting the back of his head hit the wall again. Gods, this was so boring. Across from him, Sanzo sent another glare aimed at silencing the youth. At this stage of his visit however, Omi remained singularly unimpressed.

"Why are we still here again?" he whined. Sanzo glared harder.

"I'm not even going to dignify that question with a response." the monk growled. Omi snorted and crossed his arms, looking away. Across from him, Goku lay sprawled on the ground, his head resting on one of Sanzo's thighs, snoring to wake the dead. Gojyo slept on the other side, away from them and closer to the door, grumbling occasionally in his sleep about 'dumb monkeys'. Sanzo would try glaring him into silence as well, but really those sorts of things tended only to work when the person was awake enough to realize they were supposed to be intimidated. Although Omi was pretty sure that by now Gojyo was even more immune than he was. Having Aya as a boss in the flower-shop helped. A good thing Omi himself was in charge of Weiss, or else things had the potential to be far more miserable for everyone. He pouted as he thought about it and prayed to the Gods there'd been no mission while he was away.

Sanzo watched as the would-be Hakkai's brown eyebrows knitted together in a puzzled, concerned frown. Since they'd settled in for the night, Omi had done nothing but think, regardless of how bored he claimed to be. The expressions he made while in thought were comical on Hakkai's face, and the priest didn't think he'd ever seen the Healer's eyes that large. They were so…cheerful. More-so than usual, and it was starting to make him ill. He wanted Hakkai back. And speaking of Hakkai, he wondered what other information the man was gathering. If he knew Hakkai, and Sanzo was pretty sure he did, the Healer was probably going to be coming back with all sorts of information to give them a better picture. Omi was honest but vague, and unsettlingly nervous. Although, the kid had been pretty jumpy since he'd first made his appearance. He watched as Omi reached up to adjust his monocle and gasped as his hand made contact with the frame. Green eyes widened in shock, before going blank, and then Omi slumped against the wall, unmoving, staring into nothingness. Controlling his initial urge to get up and jump to the fallen man's side, Sanzo waited and watched, Goku still snoring on his thigh, as Omi stared at a point past his shoulder.

The monk wondered if this was what he had looked like while experiencing the memories of another. In Omi's grip, the glass of the fragile monocle had shattered, Hakkai's pale fingers fluttering occasionally around the frame.

OOOoooOOOoooOOO

Hakkai continued poking about in the closet, muttering under his breath as he went in search of the surplus first-aid kit which Ken had nervously divulged was in the hall utility closet. However, he'd been searching for nearly ten minutes now, and he still hadn't seen anything the size or color that Ken had promised. He was finding everything else though, and a few things he was sure he'd never seen before.

He was also wondering if Ken had sent him on a wild goose chase. The brown-haired youth had been loathe to accept his aid, and Hakkai wouldn't be surprised if he'd simply sent him on a fruitless chase to be rid of him. It seemed odd to Hakkai that Ken should be so prickly and wary, given his probable personality. Sanzo had painted him out to be 'annoyingly' loyal, and Gojyo had seemed to feel that he was almost like a mature Goku; someone to pal around with. But the Healer had yet to see the easy, laid-back side of Ken, and he wondered at the cause of it.

Grunting, he leaned forward, straining towards the back portion of the closet he couldn't see, and had a few seconds to gasp in shock as his hand made contact with something small and sharp. His brain dimly registered that it was a throwing blade, and then his world blacked out.

It focused back in seconds later, scenes flashing by quickly, emotions and words flashing with them, and Hakkai struggled like a man under water to grasp them and commit them to memory. He was positive that this was a vision from Omi's memory, and the Healer was determined to gain any useful information he could. He tried hard not to think about Omi stirring a stick through his own memories as well.

He could catch scenes. A small blond boy tormented by what appeared to be kidnappers. A father refusing ransom. A rescue from an Uncle. From there Omi's life seemed to take on a stable course; he was trained to be an assassin. He'd been taught to be a killer, since boyhood. Hakkai watched, feeling ill, at how quickly and readily Omi had adapted to the lifestyle presented to him. He simply hadn't known any differently.

Hakkai's own life hadn't been spectacular throughout his boyhood, but he hadn't been groomed for a life of this nature.

And then, the formation of Weiss. Weiss, the organization that their counter-parts were involved in. Ken first, a comrade in arms and an orphan who'd had everything stripped away from him when he'd had so promising a future. Yohji next; an ex PI who'd been found shot and bleeding to death, after losing his partner, a woman named Asuka. Finally, Aya. Found on a mission and taken in after he tried to attack Ken.

These people were Omi's life. It was easy to see. And the memories that Omi held from the formation of Weiss on became lighter, happier. Despite the dark nature of their work. Born into killing, Omi did not have as heavy a burden of guilt as the others. It was, after all, what he'd been raised to do and believe.

In fact, aside from the vague, dark and disturbed memories of the kidnapping, Omi's memories seemed neatly ordered, with a matter-of-fact consideration. The under-currents of emotion flared or receded at certain points or events, but generally, the youth seemed to feel that Weiss was good, and that the fate of a few did not matter against the fate of the masses. Rather heroic and noble if Hakkai thought so. The young tactician considered his teammates the closest thing he had to brothers.

The Healer watched as the lighter scenes grew hazy again, almost as if he were watching an old, ill-cared for film. And then he watched Omi's torture at his brother's hands. The flood of emotion was almost overwhelming, a rush of old memories never resolved, pushing back to the surface after a catalyst of horrid proportions. Hakkai fought for control, reminding himself that they were not his memories. Kanan whispered quietly in the back of his mind, and he calmed. The memory seemed to fade and blur, mixing with images of a girl standing in sunlight, smiling, waving, or shoving a pot of flowers at Omi.

This too, ended in blood, as the girl named Ouka died in the young assasin's arms. As his sister. Omi had been in love with his sister. And she with him. They had despaired when they had discovered the truth of it, and somehow, Hakkai faulted them for their lack of courage. Omi was so young. How could he know love in so short a time? How could he have been sincere in his sorrow if he had been so willing to give up his love at the first sign of trouble?

On the other hand, look at what refusal to back down had gotten he and Kanan. A lot of blood and gore and not much else. Oh, and how could anyone forget about the utter tragedy of it all? But he supposed Omi's love had been tragic in its own right.

Omi and Ouka faded from view and Hakkai watched with bored fascination as the rest of the memories swept quietly by. He wondered why, unlike Gojyo and Sanzo, he had been privy to nearly all of Omi's memories in a more vague sense than simply one main defining moment. Perhaps Omi really didn't consider any moment defining, or perhaps he was loath to hold them in clarity in his mind.

The entire occurrence only stood to confirm Hakkai's view. Obviously, Weiss and the Sanzo-ikkou were two sides of the same coin. Now as to the why of their swapping situation, that still needed to be puzzled out.

The Healer came-to, taking a shuddering breath and nearly jumped from his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ken was kneeling at his side where he'd apparently dropped to the floor while unconscious, so to speak. The brunet looked sleepy and grumpy, with a healthy amount of concern mixed in.

"You look like Sanzo did when I came into Aya's room and found him holding his bloody hand. I hope you aren't bleeding, because I've really had enough blood to last me awhile." Hakkai felt his gaze soften.

"No, I'm not bleeding." He pulled his hand from the closet, the small tear-shaped blade held between his fingertips. Ken nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, everyone else went through it too. You ok? Not wigged out or anything?" Hakkai tried hard not laugh. The tone in Ken's voice sounded like he'd be more likely to beat the Healer up than aid him if he needed it. Ken seemed really worn out, if past experiences with Goku were ay indication. He shook his head.

"No Ken, everything is just fine. I couldn't find the first aid kit though." He replied. Ken's face clouded with confusion.

"First aid kit?" he asked. "Why are you looking for the first aid kit in the hall utility closet? We all have one in our bedrooms." Hakkai snorted and shook his head. He just knew the man had been lying. Cheeky bastard. Ken only looked more confused at Hakkai's disgruntled expression.

"Let's go." the Healer grumped. Rising, he helped the exhausted soccer player down the hall.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOOooOOOoooOOOoooOOO

When Omi sucked in a shuddery gasp of air and blinked around himself confusedly Sanzo released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Troubled, frightened green eyes turned upon his face and the monk was hard pressed to return the stare with his own, indifferent violet. The youth frowned, looking away and tried to get his panting under control. Bony, pale fingers clutched at the dark material of his pant legs, clenching and unclenching reflexively.

And still, the horrifying barrage of memories would not stop. Omi was a murderer. He knew that and nothing in the world made that better. But to kill…to kill like that, for the sake of vengeance and blood…even the villagers. Omi couldn't understand the depth of a love like that. Ouka had died his sister, and certainly he had cared for her, loved her in a duty borne from blood, but never had he thought to reap such revenge on her killers. In the end, both he and Ouka had been simple statistics on opposite ends of a spectrum.

But not Hakkai. In a way, it was awesome that he had refused to fade away quietly. That he had refused to simply allow his life to be ravaged, another statistic, as if it didn't matter. It mattered to Hakkai. Just as the men he traveled with now mattered to him. And he was perhaps just as willing to bathe in blood in order to assure their safety. Shuddering the youth hunched his shoulders in on themselves and tried to ignore Sanzo's stares and Goku's snoring. Outside, it had started to rain and he watched, dazed.

Sanzo watched, wondering at Omi's reaction, and calm recollection. When he'd come out of Aya's memory vision, he'd been panting and shaking and wondering what the hell had happened. Omi had reacted, but not as violently as he had. He watched as the youth held out his hand suddenly, and began pulling the small glass shards of Hakkai's monocle out of his palm. With a grunt, the priest held out his hand.

"Let me see it." he muttered. Omi blinked at him, as if just remembering he was there, and reluctantly held out the injured limb. Sanzo reached into his sleeve and pulled out his reading glasses, along with a pair of tweezers. (And Omi wondered about the tweezers….) With more care than the youth expected, the monk took his hand gently and frowned at it through his glass lenses, peering at his bloody palm in order to spot the tiny shards. Omi thought he looked somehow softer, and more vulnerable in his glasses, especially with Goku sleeping on his thigh. And Sanzo was careful not to disturb the monkey, although his excuse would likely be that he wanted some peace and quiet. When Omi winced, he frowned at the youth over the rims of his lenses, but the next shard came out even gentler than the last. Omi tried hard not to smile as his gaze drifted back over to Goku, and he thought of Ken.

OOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOOooOOOoooOOOoooOOO