"I made a decision in the heat of the moment, Hakkai. It wasn't the right one, and if I could go back and change it, I wouldn't call the hit. But right now, it's Sanzo's life or Gojyo's. Sanzo is a well-known guy; it spread quickly that I've got it out for him. I call it off now and people will start digging into why. You of all people should know that I can't let anyone see how much Gojyo means to me."

As soon as he said the final sentence, Dokugakuji began to regret his words. Hakkai's posture and expression didn't seem to change at all, but it was almost as if someone had started the air conditioner. The skin on the older man's arms began to goosebump, the fine hairs on the back of his neck rising; Hakkai's chilling fury was almost choking the atmosphere, even though he hadn't visibly moved a muscle.

Once again, Doku was glad that Hakkai was on his side…but he might not have been for much longer if Doku didn't apologise for his frustrated words.

"…That was out of line. I'm sorry, Hakkai. I'm just worried about Gojyo, y'know? I've already fucked his life up once, and now I'm about to do it again…"

Hakkai made no reply; after staring motionlessly into his employer's eyes for several seconds, the brunette simply turned back towards Gojyo's room.

Doku winced as Hakkai retreated, the atmosphere in the hall slowly warming again as the brunette's icy rage faded away. He hadn't thought himself stupid enough to remind Hakkai of what had happened to his lover three years ago; he'd seen the results of Hakkai's 'judgement' upon an entire gang, even though only a single member had been the one to assault and rape his girlfriend.

The gang had thought they could break Hakkai by defiling his reason for living; he'd assassinated a few of their men, and they had wanted revenge. Instead, they'd only cracked his sanity, and it hadn't ended well for anyone.

For the most part, Doku could pretend that Hakkai had recovered admirably from the mass murder, as well as from the suicide of his wrongfully impregnated lover that had sent him into such a horrible homicidal rage. Every so often, though, whether it was from spotting a girl who looked like Kanan or from some idiot making a stupid comment like Doku just had, Hakkai seemed only a step away from snapping all over again.

Dokugakuji wanted nothing more than to pull Hakkai away from that edge permanently, but he knew there was nothing he could do. He didn't want to risk Hakkai losing it completely; Doku had sunk a lot of time and money into keeping the brunette out of jail and the public eye for his rampage. He didn't think he could pull it off a second time.

Swiping once more at his still-bleeding hand, Doku walked towards the bathroom. Hakkai needed a couple of minutes to calm down; if he wanted to do that in Gojyo's presence, the older man wasn't about to intrude. Doku would just take the opportunity to clean up his cuts a bit.

Besides, he had to make sure that he wasn't going to blurt any more ridiculous shit to the wrong person.

Sanzo paced the length of his living room, reaching the end and turning to repeat the process for yet another time.

He was bored out of his fucking mind.

There was only one person in this entire city that he knew, although he'd noticed that a number of people seemed to know him. That wasn't incredibly surprising, though, considering the amount of people who had known the older Sanzo back in the day.

The blonde wasn't about to try and make friends, though. He already had one of those, and one was one too many. But Gojyo probably didn't count anymore…

Shaking his head, Sanzo continued to pace. It had only been a few weeks since his happy, solitary existence had been completely screwed up by that whoring son of a bitch; and yet, now he'd only been secluded for a week and he was going crazy.

Sanzo checked his watch: it was just past two o'clock. Too early to go out and get drunk, and it didn't look like Yakumo was going to call today, either. The man hadn't had a job for Sanzo since that night at the club, and it was getting tedious to simply sit around and read.

It was almost a tempting thought to go out and use his old credit card, call people on his old cell or even get himself arrested just so that Doku would have a trail to follow. Sanzo felt that a decent shoot-out would do him the world of good.

…Well, maybe that wasn't an entirely fantastic idea. Dokugakuji would definitely send Hakkai out again, and that would quickly get messy; not to mention the fact that Hakkai had purposely spared him.

Sanzo could practically hear his father's voice once telling him that the entire underworld pretty much revolved around favours owed and collected. He would have been about twelve at the time, and Sanzo had taken it upon himself to teach Kouryuu the things he would need to know to survive the underground.

'Just in case,' the older man had said.

Less than a year later, he was dead and his young student was putting those lessons to good use. So Sanzo couldn't straight-up murder Hakkai; he had to at least give the man a chance. It was what his father had dictated.

Sanzo frowned. There was no point in remembering the past; it didn't help the present move faster, and it certainly wasn't helping his mood. He had to get out; to give his mind something else to think about.

…He didneed some new suits. Most of them were still in his old wardrobe, if the place hadn't been torched or completely ransacked by this point.

Straightening his shirt, Sanzo moved to grab his wallet and the keys to the car he had stolen and re-plated. If he took long enough, he could then go and drink himself into oblivion without feeling like a total hopeless drunk.

He was just so bored…

Gojyo looked up as he heard footsteps approaching, smiling softly as Hakkai came into view. The brunette was fascinating; Gojyo knew that he could easily talk to the man for hours.

Right now, though, he just wanted to know what had made his brother leave the room so suddenly.

"Still feeling okay, Gojyo?" Hakkai walked up to the bed, his face like a smiling mask. Gojyo could've sworn that there was something slightly off about the way he was moving and speaking, but decided it was best not to comment.

"Yeah, I'm sweet. Um…how's Jien? Doku? Whatever it is these days?"

"He'll be fine. I believe he's just a bit worked up and over-exhausted; after all…we didn't know if you were going to wake up. The last few days have taken their toll on him." Hakkai sat down, spine straight, legs together and hands clasped neatly in his lap. Gojyo felt uncomfortable just looking at him; the redhead was a big believer in 'proper ball space'.

"Good to hear. I still can't believe he found me…and with Sanzo's help. I knew there was a reason why I like that pissy bastard; I mean, apart from his co-…" Gojyo trailed off, laughing as Hakkai blushed at what he almost said.

"That's hardly appropriate, Gojyo."

The redhead smiled widely, revelling in the lack of pain in his lips. "What? I was gonna say 'his colourful view of the world.'"

"I'm sure you were," Hakkai said, amusement plain in his voice. Gojyo still thought that he could sense something wrong, though…

"Anyway, where is my favourite dickhead? I'm almost beginning to miss his…colourful views." As much as he wanted to talk to Jien, Gojyo felt an urge to see Sanzo. He wanted to thank the man…for everything.

"…You see, Gojyo…"

The redhead barely heard Hakkai start talking, his eyes snapping wide as he realised something new he needed to thank Sanzo for.

"Hakkai, what happened to…to Hazel?"

Hakkai paused mid-sentence, silently thanking the universe for giving him a little more time to create a plausible excuse for Sanzo's absence. Glancing around to see if Dokugakuji had snuck up on them, the brunette leaned close to the other man.

"He's dead. I saw the body myself…but only you two and myself know that it was Sanzo. Your brother knows nothing, and it will be best if it stays that way."

Gojyo's gaze dropped, his eyes watching his hands play with the bedsheet covering him.

After a period of silence, Hakkai gently spoke up. "Gojyo? What's wrong?"

Blank red eyes looked up, seeming to stare right through the brunette. Gojyo's hands stilled, resting limply in his lap.

"I'm free…" He whispered softly, voice shaking a little. "…Sanzo…took revenge…for me…"

A sad smile appeared slowly across Gojyo's lips. He was barely aware of Hakkai's existence, his mind running over his last encounter with the blonde. Sanzo had been so utterly furious; Gojyo could still feel that the ribs the blonde had hit were less healed than the others.

But even after all that…Sanzo had actually helped him.

Shit, he wanted to see the blonde. He wanted to grab him and not let go until Sanzo realised just how grateful Gojyo really was. He wanted to give himself to the man; all of himself. Anything to make Sanzo see just how much he…

He…

He what? Gojyo's lips pursed in thought. How much he cared? How much he needed to be looked after? How much he wanted the blonde?

It was all just too fucking confusing. Gojyo shook himself out of his thoughts, realising he was still staring directly at Hakkai. The brunette's look of concern made Gojyo feel a little guilty: Hakkai didn't need to worry himself about other people's problems. He probably had shit of his own to deal with.

"Woah, zoned out there a little. Sorry, 'Kai." Gojyo smirked, trying to lighten the mood. The attempt was too weak to be effective, but he appreciated Hakkai's small smile in response all the same. The brunette was too good to him.

"Oh, it's nothing to be sorry about. I expect that you're a little tired after everything that has happened."

Gojyo decided to abandon the subject of himself. He didn't want to come across as weak, or as a whinging little bitch; it just wasn't in his nature.

"I'm good. So anyway, when can I expect Sanzo to wander in and insult the crap outta me? I still need to get him back for that little incident in the hospital."

Hakkai's eye twitched, and Gojyo frowned slightly. Something was definitely up…and it probably had something to do with the blonde. Gojyo wouldn't have been surprised to hear that Sanzo had gone and done something outrageously stupid…

"He's not coming back, Gojyo."

At the sound of the new voice, Gojyo's head snapped across to the doorway. Dokugakuji was leaning against the frame, one hand in his pocket and the other playing across his stubbled chin.

"…What?" Gojyo questioned, still not entirely sure if his brother had said what he thought he'd heard.

"I'm sorry, Gojyo…He went on a job a few days ago, and no one's heard from him since. It…doesn't look good."

Gojyo felt the backs of his eyes begin to sting as his stomach dropped.

Sanzo had only taken four steps into the bar when he heard a voice gleefully call his name. He didn't bother suppressing his groan of annoyance, wondering if he could leave before Yakumo got to him.

"Didn't expect to see you out and about! C'mon, have a drink with us!" Sanzo side-stepped as his drunken boss attempted to sling an arm around his shoulders. Yakumo frowned when his arm met nothing but air, and he stumbled slightly.

"I would rather shoot myself in the face." Sanzo turned, starting to leave the bar; he paused, though, when Yakumo spoke again in a steady, almost sober-sounding voice.

"I might have more work for you."

Eyes narrowing, Sanzo contemplated the offer. If he got drunk enough, he could ignore the fact that he was surrounded by idiots, and more work would solve his boredom issues. Sighing deeply, he turned back.

"Fine. But you're paying."

Yakumo gave a crooked grin and gestured towards the bartender, who nodded and disappeared underneath the bar to grab something or other. Sanzo followed when the older man walked away, swaying slightly, and hoped that he hadn't just made a bad mistake.

"Everyone, this here is Sanzo. He's my new guy, and although he acts like an asshole, I'm pretty sure he's good somewhere." Yakumo waved his arms about a little, obviously trying to present the blonde to the two men and the woman sitting at the table they had just approached.

The men simply looked up and murmured their greetings, but the woman stood and extended her hand, fingers decked out with long, blood-red nails.

"Pleased to meet you, Sanzo," she purred over the buzz of background conversation, "I'm Kanzeon, but you can call me whatever you'd like."

Ignoring both the offered hand and the obvious come-on, Sanzo sat beside Yakumo in the only spare seat left. He heard Kanzeon huff, and ignored that as well.

"So, Sanzo, what are ya up to?" Yakumo rested his elbow on the table, putting his chin in his hand and smiling innocently in Sanzo's direction. The blonde shuddered slightly, hoping that his drink would get there soon.

"Nothing." Yakumo clearly wasn't happy with that answer, but he didn't get a chance to press further as a bang and a yelp came from Sanzo's other side. Looking across disinterestedly, Sanzo saw that the man who had been sitting next to him was now sprawled on the ground, and Kanzeon was picking up his fallen chair and settling herself into it.

The woman reached out a pale hand to stroke down Sanzo's arm, leaning across slightly so that her sheer, low-cut top exposed most of her large chest. Sanzo brushed her hand away, staring straight ahead; he had absolutely no interest in her. He just wanted to drink.

"Playing hard-to-get, are we? Mmm, I like that in a man," the woman breathed into his ear, her dark hair brushing his shoulder as she leaned in. Sanzo had to resist the urge to grab Kanzeon's face and literally push her away: one of the men may have tried to start something had he done a thing like that.

When a cool glass was placed in front of him, Sanzo immediately wrapped his fingers around it and practically poured the beer straight down his throat. He purposely hadn't eaten all afternoon, and so he knew this wasn't going to take long.

Yakumo whistled loudly, giving a drunken clap for the blonde. "Woo! My boy can drink! Better get us a few more, buddy," he added for the waiter's sake.

Annoyed, Sanzo slammed his schooner back on the table with more force than necessary.

"I am not your anything," he hissed. "Call me that again and I won't hesitate to shove my foot so far up your ass that you'll vomit up my shoe."

"Ooh, this one's pretty and dangerous, Yakumo! I think you should definitely keep him around." A feminine hand stroked through Sanzo's hair, those red talons scraping against his skull and pissing him off further. Taking another mouthful of beer, Sanzo turned his wrath towards the woman.

"And you. Don't touch me. Don't talk to me. I'm. Not. Interested."

Kanzeon didn't seem flustered in the least by Sanzo's anger, letting out a low, seductive laugh. "I could have any man in this bar. This city. You should be flattered, babe."

"I don't give a fuck."

The other two men seemed to be minding their own business, or at least simply spectating in silence. The one who had been tipped onto the floor had taken Kanzeon's vacated seat without complaint; either he was low in the organisation, or she was high. If she was just a random bar skank she wouldn't have dared to disrespect any of the group's men like that.

A second drink was placed onto the table in front of Sanzo, and he quickly finished off the first. He was starting to feel a little better already: the lack of food and the speed of his drinking were going to take their toll quickly.

As long as he was aware enough to know if the idiots on either side of him tried to pull anything, Sanzo was happy.

Four drinks later, Sanzo's world was blurring enjoyably. The two anonymous men had left a few minutes earlier, and Yakumo was having some sort of argument with Kanzeon over something that Sanzo couldn't be bothered focusing on.

The older man said something particularly loudly right by Sanzo's ear, and the blonde growled in warning. Yakumo's hand slid across his back, rubbing soothingly as he spoke a quiet apology. Sanzo's eyes narrowed at the touch, but he just couldn't be bothered doing anything about it.

Suddenly, Sanzo felt a hand land on his knee, long nails scratching gently across the covered skin and giving away the identity of the hand's owner. Turning to glare at Kanzeon, the blonde was met with a pretty smile as the woman recrossed her legs, her short skirt riding up to fully expose the gold band circling her upper thigh.

Even drunk, Sanzo didn't feel the slightest attraction to the woman. The make-up turned him off; the barely-concealed breasts turned him off; the hair that reeked of product turned him off. He would've gone home with Yakumo before touching the woman, and the chances of him doing anything intimate with his employer were somewhere in the realm of 'imaginary numbers'.

"C'mon, Sanzo. Let's blow this place…and if you're lucky, maybe you'll find me blowing something else." Kanzeon's hand slipped higher on his thigh, palm coming teasingly close to his groin. Sanzo shuddered in revulsion, but it seemed like the other two mistook it for pleasure.

Sanzo finally noticed the possessive way Yakumo's hand had come to grip his shoulder, and he felt an instant sense of unease. He didn't want to be here; he didn't want to do this.

"She's been used 'n' abused, Sanzooo," Yakumo slurred, extending his last syllable, "So wouldn't ya rather me? I'll even let ya be on top."

Even with his drunken bliss, Sanzo had finally had enough. He pulled Yakumo's arm from around him, pressing the man's wrist much harder than he needed to. "Never. Not a fuckin' chance. Try it again and I'll castrate you."

Yakumo pouted, and Kanzeon laughed loudly. "Well, Yakumo my dear, looks like you lost. Don't worry, though: I'll return this pretty boy in good condition. He might just be a bit rumpled."

Sanzo roughly shoved the hand off his leg when it started to become a little too adventurous. "Nobody won. I don't want you; you're a woman."

Kanzeon was startled into silence for a few seconds, but she soon laughed again and slipped her palm over Sanzo's. "Oh, so you're gay? Well, there's a lot more going on underneath this skirt than you obviously realise."

Before the blonde realised what was happening, his hand was lifted from the table and pressed into Kanzeon's lap, where a large bulge was cleverly hidden by the skirt's busy pattern and loose cut.

Confused and annoyed, Sanzo yanked his hand free and stumbled from his seat, heading straight for the door. "You two are fucking insane! Leave me alone!"

Yakumo also stood, using the table to prop up his swaying body. "C'mon! What more d'ya want? You c'n even have us both!"

Sanzo turned back towards the table, stumbling and nearly falling as the world moved faster than he had expected. An empty table bumped his leg, and he leaned heavily on it. "Why would I want you two when I could have Gojyo? He's fuckin' gorgeous…unlike you," he spat, pointing at Kanzeon in all her feminine, made-up glory.

"Hey!" She yelped, slamming her fist into the table and making the empty glasses rattle. Sanzo shot her a dirty look, unsteadily turning back around and staggering for the entrance.

A strong hand grabbed his bicep, and the blonde swatted ineffectually at it; turning, he saw that it was the bartender. "Sir, I can't let you drive. I'll call you a taxi."

Frowning, Sanzo opened his mouth to argue before giving up. He just couldn't be bothered. "Fine! Call a stupid taxi, I don't care. Or call Gojyo. Stupid beautiful dickhead owes me when he wakes up. Just get me away from those two…perverts!"

The bartender ignored the rambling; he'd heard it all before. Drunken ranting was a given in his profession, and he simply called for the taxi as Sanzo weaved to the door.

"Assholes…as if I would ever want to fuck them," Sanzo mumbled to himself as he swung the door open, stepping out into the cool night to wait for his ride home. "They'd never be as good as him."