AUTHOR'S NOTE: So... part two of chapter 37. The Kougaiji scene is fondly dedicated to Redbrunja. Here's your retribution!
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Well... THAT was a wasted evening, Gojyo thought grumpily as he took the stairs up to his room quietly. It was about eleven at night, and he and a particularly sweet young thing had decided to make an early evening of it. Everything had been going great right up until then. His pockets were loaded, he'd found his date early and made sure she never saw the bottom of her glass all night and he was all geared up for spending a night with company that didn't snore, shoot at him or toss and turn. That is... until they got to his date's house. And she told him she was a virgin. This was all topped when the door had opened and her father had come to see who was talking on his doorstep.
Gojyo cringed again at that little bomb on his horny mood. He could have dealt with the virgin issue. There were PLENTY of other ways they could have amused each other without compromising her, uh... values. But a curious, sleepy and slightly protective father? Yeah... Despite what the bitchy blonde monk might say, he wasn't stupid. So, he'd done the very wise thing and given her dad his good-boy smile, shook his hand and said good night without even a peck on her cheek. He was just damned glad his hard on had disappeared as soon as he heard the door knob twisting.
Sighing, he finished smoking outside the room he was stuck sharing with Goku, glancing down the hall each way before dropping the butt into the potted plant by the door. Hey, cigarettes were nature friendly... mostly. Besides, judging from the stubs of other smokes in that same pot, he wasn't the first, nor would he be the last. Gojyo tried the knob and muttered a healthy string of curses when he found it locked. Goddamn monkey! What, did he think someone was gonna break in and steal all the food in his pack? Fat chance of that happening. One bad move toward the protein bars, and that kid would knock the dumb ass out without even blinking. He knew, he'd tried foolishly once at the very start of their journey. His poor bladder, liver and lungs remembered that fierce punch, too.
He fished the key out of his back pocket, inserted it and felt the click vibrate through the knob as he turned it, slipping in as quietly as possible into the darkened room. Not that stealth was really required when bunking with the primate, it was more out of an unconscious consideration that he even did it. He sat on the edge of the unoccupied bed, tossing his coat onto the floor on one side before unlacing his boots to let them thunk off his feet. Socks were tossed aside, pockets emptied of cigarettes, lighter and room key, thus completing his routine for nights that he came back late. Or early depending on how you chose to look at it.
Outside, the wind that had threatened to mess up his perfect mane of hair suddenly kicked up, whistling shrilly through cracks in the panes of glass and causing the loose pieces the shift and groan in protest at the pressure. Gojyo curled on his side and listened to the sounds of the wind howling as he waited for the wakefulness that liquor caused to wear off enough and allow him a bit of sleep before the holy douche bag came and wome them all up. Sighing a little, he closed his eyes, one hand curling into the pillow to clutch it tightly. It was a habit he'd had since he was a kid, and one of the reasons he had a helluva time sleeping when they camped. For some reason, he always slept better with his fist lost in a pillow. Granted, he usually ended up sprawling during the night, but to actually get to sleep to begin with...
His eyes opened partially at the shifting on the bed across from him, followed closely by a frustrated little sigh. He knew that sigh, and it wasn't a monkey's meatnbun dreaming sigh either. A soft, animal chirp in the darkness confirmed his suspicions that somehow his rooming partners had switched. And, if he was any judge of Hakkai Sighs, this one meant that his friend couldn't sleep because of something bothering him. "The wind's really picked up," he muttered, trying to draw himself from the hazy realm of sleep.
"Are you awake, Gojyo?" Hakkai whispered back.
"Mm... sorta. Just started dozing off when you began tossing around."
"Oh. Sorry, Gojyo."
Gojyo heaved in a breath, which turned into a full blown yawn as he rolled over to face Hakkai. The green eyed man was sitting up in bed, staring at him with an unusually open look. The naked concern and worry in those brilliant green eyes was enough to wake Gojyo up completely. What the hell had happened... oh... yeah. He remembered. It was that pansy-assed bishop guy and his steroid loving hench man that was bothering Hakkai. "Look, man," he said, his voice still mumbled. Apparently all but his tongue was awake, seeing as it didn't want to work properly. "Don't worry so much about what happened earlier."
Hakkai's eyebrows rose, eyes silently telling him that he didn't understand the statement.
"About that kid," Gojyo elaborated, the sheets rustling a little as he sat up. "You weren't yourself. Well... Actually, I guess that kinda was you."
"I'm not worrying," Hakkai said quietly, smiling and with a far off expression on his face as he stared at his folded hands. "But, it was rather disgraceful behavior on my part."
Gojyo rolled his eyes and reached for his cigarettes. Hell, he was awake and Hakkai wanted to talk obviously. He lit up and let the nicotine's bitter taste bitch slap his senses into full alertness. "That's not what I meant," he said around the stick between his lips, puffing the release of smoke around it as he adjusted the pillow more comfortably between himself and the headboard of the bed.
"Perhaps it's because we're so similar that we don't mesh well," his companion continued to muse with a touch of sadness to his voice.
This time, Gojyo actually made a scoffing noise, shaking his head as he ashed into the tray by his bed. "Who, you and that Hazel guy? Gimme a break, 'Kai! How in the hell are you two alike?"
Hakkai sighed heavily, as if resigned on some point internally and shrugged before giving him a watered down version of his usual smile. "I suppose you're right, Gojyo."
"Goddamn straight I'm right! I mean seriously, Hakkai, that guy bothers the shit outta me. He's got this... I don't know... creepy vibe to him. It's weird."
"Mm... that sounds about right." Gojyo glanced over at the other man, arching a brow questioningly. For some reason, he didn't think Hakkai was talking to him anymore. It sounded as if he were answering his own mental questions. A little chuckle followed by a brighter smile and light crinkle of green eyes greeted him as Hakkai continued. "But still, I don't think you're all that bad a person."
What the... "Dude, who the hell are you talking about NOW?" Gojyo demanded suspiciously. It sounded to him like Hakkai had just insulted him, and if he was just insulted then, by the gods, he wanted a chance to get even!
Hakkai's warm laugh filled the air softly at his confusion before it faded away into that distant smile that said the green eyed man was definately not paying attention to the conversation. "Gojyo... Have you noticed?"
"Noticed what, that you're getting loopier by the day?" he returned sarcastically, still trying to decide whether or not he'd truly been insulted or if it was Hakkai being spacey about the conversation again.
A gentle smile and a little twitch of silent laughter through slender shoulders was the response to his quip. "No, what I meant was, with the exception of Sanzo... Hazel has never once used any of our names. I would imagine he knows them by now."
Gojyo was about to inhale only to stop midway as the meaning behind Hakkai's words slowly sank in. Oh... now everything was making sense to his sleep starved mind. Hazel only called Sanzo by name, as if the foul tempered monk was the only one worth addressing as a person. The rest of them had little pet names. Hakkai was 'that healer fella'. Goku was 'that little fella'. And he... actually, he really wasn't sure what kind of 'fella' he was, come to think of it. Not that it bothered him very much. Just so long as the title of Little Fella didn't get reassigned to him. He didn't want THAT getting spread around to the ladies!
He took a slow, thoughtful drag on his cigarette as he pushed the thought process further, crimson eyes narrowing in the darkness. He understood now why Hakkai would say he wasn't all that bad. He was a half breed, part human. Out of the three people in their happy little group with youkai blood, he had the least amount in his veins. It made sense from Hakkai's logical way of thinking that his only being partial youkai would make him more acceptable in the bishop's eyes.
Puffing out the smoke in a thin, cloudy stream, Gojyo quirked his gaze and a half-cocked smile at his friend. "Hate to break it to you, Hakkai, but I think he probably hates me the most. I'm a walking, talking, drinking and fucking insult to his kind."
Another touch of bitter laughter came from Hakkai as he tucked his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and resting his head on top of his knees. "Come to think of it, your former room mate, Banri, had said something about youkai and humans. He said this may be called a paradise, but there was a serious youkai abuse problem. He thought the youkai should teach humans a lesson."
Gojyo let out a scoffing laugh that was laced with more acrid smoke. Fucking Banri... "Yeah, that sounds like something the dickwad would say."
"Maybe this calamity, the Minus Wave, was what he was talking about. Maybe that someday is already here."
"Dude, you're giving him way too much credit. Banri liked to blow hot air, as well as other things, up his own ass. He had a lotta bark for a little dog, know what I'm saying? So, if you're even suggesting that maybe he knew this was gonna happen..."
Hakkai shook his head slowly before running his fingers back through his short hair with a slightly more bitter smile to his lips. "Honestly, I'm not entirely sure where this line of thought was going. I guess I was just talking to get it out."
Gojyo waved away the excuse, settling himself back down on the bed so that he was on his side, one elbow propped on the bed so he could rest his head on his hand. "See, I know what your problem is. You're tired and you're not sleeping in your own bed. Not that I mind your company over Goku's, but why the hell are you sleeping in here anyway?"
"Oh, that! Well, a very nice girl from the town begged an audience with Sanzo, and I didn't think it appropriate to be in the room while she consulted his wisdom." He finished his statement with a bright smile and an embarassed rub to the back of his neck.
That... was such bullshit. Gojyo arched a brow just as a knowing smirk came to his lips. "Oh, yeah? Did this very nice girl happen to have a very impressive chest and legs to worship for hours?"
"Mm... possibly. I can't say as I was really looking."
"Ha! 'Kai, you've gotta let me call him out on this one. I mean, the prick kicked you out of your room just to get laid! Please, don't make me play nice in the morning." He hoped by the Merciful Goddess' tits that Hakkai would cave in to the pleading and the puppy dog eyes he tossed across the room at him.
Unfortunately, Hakkai was immune to all things cute and puppy like, the cold bastard. "Oh, I don't think it would be wise, Gojyo, to press him in the morning. If I'm not mistaken, Sanzo is not having a very good night."
That earned him Gojyo's undivided attention as well as (damn himself for admitting it) concern. As much as he disliked the monk, he had to admit that he'd not seen Sanzo more relaxed than after spending some time in Yaone's tender care. Lucky bastard, he added grumpily. For someone as closed off, easily irritated and tight assed as Sanzo, having someone who you could turn to was a rare and wonderful thing. It was something to hold on to and, knowing Sanzo's love for detachment, it really wasn't a surprise to him that there was trouble in paradise. "Any idea who started it and what it was about?"
Hakkai shook his head, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "I couldn't hear very well, but they were definately shouting at each other. I think she raised her voice first, which probably means he started it."
"Figures," he sneered, crushing the butt of his cigarette out brutally. "Goddamn monk just doesn't know a good thing when it drops in his lap. That woman's either got brass balls to stand up to him or endless patience for his emotional bullshit."
"But, Gojyo, we all have emotional bullshit. Even Goku does, and I'm sure she's the type of person to realize this."
"Still, it's just plain dumb to let it ruin about the only good deal you've got going on this fucking journey! You can't just let go of everything. If you do, you stop being human."
Silence met him in response, a gap that lasted so long he turned to look at Hakkai just to make sure the other man was still awake. His eyes narrowed suspiciously at Hakkai's wide eyed, awed gaze. "What?" he snapped.
"Nothing, just... You're correct, and I think that's what Sanzo's problem is. He's trying to convince himself that he isn't attached and doesn't need the comfort she offers. I think perhaps she's been fighting this battle against his internal defenses for quite some time and is starting to grow tired from it."
"That's part of it," Gojyo conceded. "I think the big part is that he's scared shitless and doesn't know what to do about it. So, he does everything he can to destroy what he's afraid of in hopes that it won't scare him anymore."
"Goodness, you're awfully profound tonight!"
Chuckling, Gojyo shook out his hair before lying flat on the mattress. "Yeah, what can I say? I have my moments of genius, usually when a woman's involved. Look, don't worry about it, okay? Things happen for a reason. And who knows, maybe this is something he needs to lose just to realize how much he really does want it."
"I suppose. You do realize, of course, that this means he's going to be in rare form tomorrow morning."
Cringing at the thought and groaning, Gojyo rubbed his burning eyes and drawled, "I know. Gods, I can already feel the divine retribution of that damn fan on me now!"
"I'll stop before we leave town for extra beer. And ice packs."
A grin broke across his face as he rolled away from Hakkai to resume his former position; Pillow bunched under his head, fingers curled around a corner of it, and eyes closed. Sheets shifted as Hakkai layed back on his own bed, the mattress creaking faintly to his movements. "I'll love you forever for that, Hakkai. In a strictly heterosexual way, of course."
"Of course! You'd make a terrible wife anyway, Gojyo."
"Yeah, I... hey! You son of a-,"
"Goodnight, Gojyo."
Grumbling the rest of his reply, Gojyo punched his pillow a couple times before settling back and closing his eyes again. Sometimes, he truly wished Hakkai wasn't so damned quick with his wit. It was just plain unfair to win every turn of the hand!
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She was gone again. Kougaiji grunted as he slammed his fist hard into a training dummy, the chain restricting it from the ceiling creaking in response to his anger. He'd just gone to check on Yaone and make sure she was comfortable and resting. He'd even braved the gaping stares of the kitchen staff in order to bring her a tray of food himself! And, gods above, what did he find upon entering her room when there was no answer to his knocking? A darkened room and an untouched bed.
An enraged snarl broke from his lips, followed by another punch that was guaranteed to splinter ribs had his opponent been made of more than leather and sawdust. That explained why Dokugakuji had been uneasy during dinner. At first, he'd attributed it to the fact that things were still tense between himself and Lirin after her latest brush with danger. The more he'd thought about it though, the more he realized that the swordsman hadn't met his eyes at all over dinner. So... Dokugakuji had known from the start that Yaone wasn't doing what she was supposed and resting.
It... hurt. Her sneaking off, injured to the point where she shouldn't be walking around, to see her lover (and, oh, how that word was bitter in his mind!), cut him deeply. It felt like a betrayal, even though he logically knew there was nothing for her to betray. Every time he tried, it was either the wrong moment or they were interupted, both of which added more to his frustrations. He'd been hoping tonight that maybe he could tell her, and she would at last understand. Even if she rejected him completely, he just wanted to get it off his chest. He loved her, and because of that he wanted her to be happy, even if being happy meant she chose the other man.
With the image of Hakkai kissing Yaone passionately burning in his mind, his next series of punches turned particularly viscious and fast. The bag jerked, twisted and moved as if trying to get away from him, but his reflexes were honed to near blinding speed, thus allowing him to follow it easily and continue working out his aggravations. It was especially relieving to imagine that bag was a certain green-eyed youkai gasping in pain with blood smeared across his lips. A cold smile graced Kougaiji's lips as he placed a well aimed upper cut to that invisible face. He caught the bag as it swung back at him, pausing to catch his breath as well as let the air cool the sweat drenching the bare skin of his upper body.
"Whoa... that was one heck of a punch, big brother!"
Kougaiji tossed a narrow eyed glare at his sister, who was sitting in the door way of the training room with an expression of gleeful awe on her face. "It's midnight, Lirin. Go to bed," he ordered sharply, wiping the sweat from his brow with one hand as he moved over to the water container to one side. He poured himself a cup of the room temperature water, draining it back quickly before refilling it to sip more slowly at the second one.
"But, I don't wanna," she complained, jumping to her feet and trotting over to him. "Besides, you're not sleepin' either. Why should I?"
"Because I said so, that's why," he snapped, taking some small satisfaction in watching her smile waver a little. What didn't she understand about him being angry with her? Lirin had always been a handful, and he'd let it slide for far too long. Before, things hadn't been so dangerous for the playful young princess, but with these humans, or shikigami, or whatever the hell they were... Yaone was a much more skilled fighter than Lirin and she'd nearly been taken down herself by them. That combined with the fact that the dragon breeder had just given him a report stating that her dragon would be out of commision for longer than expected due to weakening in the wing joints... To say he was pissed was putting it a little mildly.
"But... big brother..."
"Don't start with me, Lirin. I'm not in the mood to listen."
Green eyes widened even further as the beginning glistening of tears surfaced. Kougaiji bitch slapped the urge to soften his tone and hug her, tickle her... do anything to stop those tears from falling. No, not this time. She'd finally pushed his patience over its limits, and now she'd just have to deal with the consequences like an adult. "Are you really mad at me, Kougaiji?" she sniffled.
Kougaiji growled in his throat and stalked angrily over to his robe, throwing it around himself before tying the belt securely at his waist. "What does it matter if I am? I've been mad at you in the past and you've not given a damn."
"It does matter," she shouted after him as he began to walk away. Bells tinkling told him she was running after him. He jerked his arm away as she tried to grab him and stop him from leaving. "Please, don't hate me, too!"
"I don't hate you, Lirin. I'll never hate you, but you've stepped far over the line this time."
"I won't do it again, I promise!"
"I've heard that before," he sneered as he shoved the door open roughly and stalked off into the cool night. The training facilities were housed separately from Houtu Castle, closer to the soldier barracks for their ease of use. Lirin continued to run after him, her shorter legs working double time to try and match his longer strides.
"But I mean it this time," she cried, finally catching up to jog by his side. "Honestly, big brother, I-,"
"Your dragon is injured and unable to fly for at least another three months because of your mistreating him. Running off forced us to chase you down and put us behind on our own work. It also was the reason Yaone almost was killed, and it's also the reason you almost died with her. You don't think about anyone other than yourself, Lirin! How do you think Yaone would feel knowing she didn't get to you fast enough? And how do you think Dokugakuji would feel discovering you dead on the road like a dog? What about how I would feel losing my only sister because she's too foolish to think before she acts?"
"I... I didn't think..."
"You clearly didn't think, but you knew. You knew you were disobeying me everytime you stepped out of those gates and walked over to the dragon pen. Do you think I like keeping you trapped in this place? Lirin, if I had my way, I'd let you run about as free as you wish, but damn it all, it isn't safe for you to do that! Humans will kill you on sight. Not all youkai know you or side with us. They would capture you, torture you, rape you and kill you. Other youkai might recognize you as my sister and use you to get to me by holding you prisoner. Do you understand what I'm saying, Lirin?" He turned his head to pin her down with the full weight of his glare, ignoring that voice that once again urged him to be gentle with her.
Lirin hung her head, sniffling loudly as tears ran down her cheeks. "I get it," she mumbled. "I understand, Kougaiji, but... I hate it here. Everyone hates me here."
"Then obviously you don't understand what I just said, Lirin," he continued, his harsh tone dropping in volume but not intensity. "I don't tell you to do things out of hatred. I do it because, to me, you are the most important thing in my life. If something happened to you... I'd be lost. I don't think I'd survive it, and I know Yaone and Dokugakuji wouldn't either. You don't realize that there are people who love you dearly, and you don't realize how much it frightens and hurts us when you pull stuff like this. Now do you understand why I'm mad?"
All the while he spoke, her eyes had gone from miserable to sudden clarity of understanding. Finally, it seemed, his words were sinking into that thick skull of hers. Lirin ventured a hesitate smile and a soft, sniffled giggle. "So... am I more important than Doku?" she asked, tentatively trying to ease his mood.
Kougaiji couldn't stop the quick quirk that came and went from his lips. Damn it... no matter how angry he was with her, she always seemed to worm her way back into his good graces. "Easily," he replied.
"Even Yaone?"
"Well..." he pretended to think, a full out grin coming to his face as he caught the punch she was aiming for his gut. "Yes, of course you are!" She laughed as he wrestled her in front of him, arms wrapping around from behind to hug her.
"An' you're not mad at me anymore?" she pressed, her back stiffening just a little as she tried to angle her neck around to see his face.
His good humor instantly sobered a little at the query and made him look down at her, arching a brow in question. "That depends. Do you promise to do what I tell you from now on?"
"If it means you won't be this mad at me ever again... you bet!"
"Good, then tomorrow you'll report to the dragon pen. I hear we just lost one of the stable hands so they'll need an extra person to help clean the stalls."
"WHAT! Grr... alright, fine! But I'm not gonna like it."
Kougaiji grinned down at her and knew it was twisted with wicked glee judging by the glare she shot him before sticking her tongue out. He ruffled her hair and felt his smile widen as she grabbed his wrist in both of hers, tugging it away from her disorderly waves. "You're not supposed to enjoy a punishment," he replied. Inwardly, a tiny thread of relief fluttered through him. He could only hope that Lirin would finally listen to him, but only time would tell if his anger toward her made a lasting impression. For now, one frustration out of the myriad was resolved. If only the others could be dealt with just as quickly.
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Sanzo stared up at the ceiling of the room, one arm draped across his forehead while the other rested on his bare stomach. The electric glow of the alarm clock across the room mockingly told him it was almost one in the fucking morning, and that he had yet to get any kind of sleep. He wanted to pin the blame on a bout of insomnia, but in truth the reason he couldn't sleep was curled up next to him. Usually, the sexual afterglow was something he'd come to enjoy. It was a time when he could truly relax and just enjoy her company. He liked to feel the soft trace of her fingertips along his stomach as her head rested on his shoulder, sweaty tangles of her hair curling around the arm he normally had around her back. It was one of those times where words weren't required between them, a time where just simple touches conveyed everything.
Tonight, however, as soon as they'd finished, she'd lightly pushed at his shoulder to urge him off of her and curled on her side away from him, tugging the blankets up over herself. That hurt deeper than any words she could have shouted at him. She'd known the entire time, just as he had, that great sex was not going to make everything disappear. Her curling on her side, back to him, was her way of rejecting him, letting him know that everything was not going to be okay in the morning. At first, he'd been angry over her blatant physical rejection of him, but that anger had quickly turned into pain that was chased down with a healthy shot of guilt.
He'd quickly killed the guilt, reminding himself that he'd asked her if she wanted to stop. She was just as to blame as he was for the state they were now in. He'd given her the opportunity to stop it before it happened and she hadn't. Granted, the sex they'd just had was perhaps the most physically gratifying (as well labor intensive, he added as muscles complained of over use) out of all of their past encounters, it hadn't done what he'd originally thought it would in patching the gap between them. If anything it was worse than ever, intensified over the two inch gap between his arm and her stiff back. He turned his head just enough to look at the back of her head, eyes along the bareness of her neck and upper back area.
Yaone's breathing was slow and easy, and had been so for several hours. She'd shifted a little, but nothing more than someone who was sound asleep would do. Hell, she'd been like that almost as soon as she turned her back to him. It was irritating to him that she could sleep so easily with everything that was going on between them. If he was going to be kept over all this bullshit, then, goddamn it, she should be, too! This just added to his theory that really didn't like to play fair. She should be awake and agonizing over this with him.
Even as he thought that however, the urge to just turn over and curl up behind her still came through loud and clear. He wanted to take back those two damned inches she'd put between them and force her to understand what he wasn't able to say. He was sorry. He was sorry for shouting at her, sorry for not trusting her completely, sorry for accusing her, just... sorry. It was difficult to admit to himself that perhaps he'd been wrong about everything in regards to her. He was just coming to terms with that himself, there was no way he would voice that to her yet. So... his only option had been a physical demonstration, which obviously had gotten shot to shit.
Slowly, Sanzo reached out, his breath stuck somewhere around the rapid beating of his heart. It was stupid to be nervous about touching her, but he was. He tried to rationalize it away as not wanting to wake her up, but he knew better than that. With a gentleness he hadn't really been aware he possessed, he traced a line with his fingertips from the back of her neck down to the small of her back, stopping just before her back curved into her ass. Her skin was soft here with only a few shiny scars to break the texture up. He knew all of those faint scars very well, had seen them when they were still fairly fresh.
A handful of old, white ones that had finally smoothed out to blend with her skin were claw marks. He knew, he had a few of them himself. There were a few newer, pinker marks that criss crossed from her shoulders to her waist, caused by whip strokes. If he ever got hold of the bastards that whipped her... He quickly stopped those violent thoughts from forming, his fingers instead exploring even fresher marks against her skin. Red marks from where his own nails had pressed a little too hard. Not enough to cause her serious pain, just enough to raise the skin in warm lines and send her that last little bit she'd needed into what he could tell was the most intense orgasm of her life.
She hadn't screamed, hadn't called his name... it was the utter lack of sound shortly before her back tensed and then bowed under his hands that told him just how powerful it had been. It hadn't been enough for her, though. It looked as if the only thing that would stitch the wound up would be the words he couldn't bring himself to say yet. Maybe he never would be able to say them, he didn't know. All he was certain of was that he wasn't ready to say them out loud because he wasn't one hundred percent behind them. It was meaningless to apologize unless it was meant with every fiber of his being. Yaone was perceptive. She would pick up on any little chink in his apology and everything would end right there.
Sanzo let his hand fall away reluctantly, his eyes still tracing over her back in longing for her to turn over on her sleep toward him, acknowledge the touch with a twitch of muscle or a change in breathing. It was pointless, though. She was pretty much dead to the world and hadn't felt a damn thing. He sighed, rubbing his stinging eyes that begged for the sleep his mind wouldn't let him have. Shit... he couldn't just lay here like this. He had to get up, move around... do something other than lie there and stare at her all night. Carefully, so he didn't wake her, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching down for his clothing.
Once everything right down to the Maten Sutra and banishing gun was in place, he moved toward the door as quietly as possible, opening the door just wide enough to allow him out into the dimly lit hall. He shut the door and locked it from the outside, just in case anyone came poking around for him. The halls were lit with softened emergency lights, just bright enough to see by without being disruptive to the sleeping occupants. Sanzo took the stairs down to the main floor where it was darker. The staff was asleep, the common room closed for the evening, so there was no reason to have any light here except what the windows allowed. Windows... Sanzo headed for the back hall that looked out over the open courtyard behind the inn. He could open a window, smoke and think about what the hell to do.
He finally found a reasonable spot that let in a bright slice of moonlight over the rooftops and gave him a view of Goku and Gat still going at it in back. Neither of them showed any signs of slowing down or quitting, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. All it meant was Goku would sleep tomorrow in the Jeep and be a little cranky when he woke up. Nothing he couldn't handle, and if the kid got too whiny... well, that's what the fan was for. He turned his back on the scene, leaning against the window frame as he pulled out his cigarettes and slid one from the carton. The two continued to grunt and spar outside as he lit up, sucking down the nicotine smoothly before releasing it into the air.
So much for opening a window, he thought dryly as the wind that had kicked up swirled inside the inn and carried the grey smoke further down the hall. He watched it for several seconds, his mind still pouring over the fight and everything that had been said. Was it really so wrong of him to suspect she was sleeping with Kougaiji? Maybe. If she was and she was trying to keep it a secret from him, then why would she even mention him trying to kiss her? Unless it was to get him angry enough to end... His gut told him this was less than likely. Yaone was smart. She was clever and knew how to use her wit to her best advantage, but she wasn't devious. That kind of behavior was too malicious for her to come up with. If she wanted to end it, she would have just said so.
Okay, fine. She wasn't sleeping with Kougaiji. She'd been outright with him about the bastard prince making a move for her, which negated that claim. But, she'd also been bluntly honest about having loved him at one point in time, which led him back to his question about that; What was to say she didn't change her mind now that Kougaiji's attentions were directed toward her? He'd be damned if he let her go without a good fight, especially to Kougaiji. From his point of view, the man already had his chance with her and he foolishly didn't take what was offered. End of story, no second chance... Kougaiji shouldn't be allowed to feel anything toward her now other than emotions of comradery and lordly duty.
Sanzo blew the smoke from his mouth roughly, glaring at a spot on the wall across from him. Perhaps it would be for the best to just end it now while they were still on reasonably good terms. None of this was easy on her, either. She had just as much shit on her plate as he did, and now all this was piled on top of it. It had been so much easier in the beginning, before he started to really feel something for her. It still puzzled him what exactly it was that he felt. On some level, he could admit that maybe it was love, but the logical side of him told him it wasn't completely that. He'd asked Hakkai once, shortly after being brought back to Chang'an, if he'd do it all over again, knowing what the outcome would be. He'd answered by saying love wasn't something to pass up simply because things went sour. It was something to be fought for and to die for.
That right there cast doubt on whether or not love was what he felt toward her. Not that he wouldn't knock the motherfucker who tried to take her from him clean out or anything, but if she said it was over... he'd suck it up and deal. She was the only one with the power to end what they had. Despite all the shit they were still wading through, he wasn't anywhere near ready to calling it quits for anyone but her. If she said it, he would let her go. He knew without a doubt that he wouldn't stop her. He would rather she leave because it was her decision to rather than someone coming between them.
"Damn it," he muttered, staring down at the cherry red glow of his cigarette. Fuck this bullshit, all of it. What the hell was he thinking, saying he'd let her go? Yes, they were having problems. It was normal for most couples, or so he gathered from listening to Hakkai and Gojyo gossip. Just because things sucked at the moment didn't mean they wouldn't get better again. In his eyes, they'd already accomplished a pretty impossible feat by even getting this far with only a few minor bumps in the road. So, this happened to be a cliff rather than a bump. Big deal, Hakkai usually ended up driving them off a fucking cliff at least once a month. How he wasn't dead yet with the way that idiot drove was a miracle only the gods themselves could fathom. There were still plenty of doubts in regards to her, and chances were more than likely they would argue about those as well. But, for now, he at least could cross one problem off the list. He was about ninety percent certain Yaone was not sleeping with Kougaiji.
His eyes flickered down the hall way at the light brushing of steps and the soft whisper of fabric. Another robed figure was emerging from the shadows, silvery blonde hair catching in the light from the rows of windows lining the hall. Great... his personal cheerleader was an insomniac as well. Sanzo's glare intensified at the soft, pleasant chuckle as Hazel came to stand next to him by the window, pale blue eyes focusing on the two still sparring in the courtyard.
"What in the world are you doin' out here, smokin' all by your lonesome?" Hazel inquired, eyes crinkling closed behind unveiling of his perfectly white teeth. Damn it... not even a goddamn poppy seed caught between the creases! The guy had to brush his teeth at least six times a day to maintain that level of spotlessness.
"I'd state the obvious, but that would just be stupid," he replied, saying a quick, silent prayer that whatever the hell the bishop was about to say would be quick and easy. He had better things to do than listen to that persistantly cheerful voice and stare at teeth that were too bright to be natural. Maybe they were all caps...
"You can smoke in your room, y'know, Mr. Sanzo. I do believe your healer friend paid extra for that, ah... luxury."
"First off, he's not my friend. Second, you're bothering me. Either make your point or get lost."
Hazel chuckled, smoothing back his neatly combed hair as he leaned against the window sill. "My goodness, you're in a frightful mood! I actually do have somethin' I'd like to ask you."
Thrilling. How absolutely wonderful. Fighting the need to clench his fist (he didn't want to snap a perfectly good cigarette, after all) to restrain his irritation, he asked tightly, "What?"
"Will y'all join forces with me?"
"No." Well, apparently the gods had been listening. That was fairly quick, and very easy. No way in hell was he 'joining forces'. Not with Hazel, not with anyone. Besides the reasons of the bishop being too cheerful, too clingy and too touchy-feely, there were also his companions to consider. He didn't particularly want to walk to Houtu Castle, and combining their two teams would only piss Hakkai off royally. Gojyo would follow Hakkai out of loyalty, and Goku would be miserable and whine all the time without the other two. He shuddered, remembering how annoying his charge had been when Gojyo pulled his famous disappearing act to go get his ass kicked by Kami-Sama. No, 'joining forces' was so low on his Things To Do List it bordered on nonexistant.
Pale blue eyes rounded and blinked a couple times in shock at his abrupt response. Hazel straightened a little away from the window as he exclaimed, "Mercy! We can't even have ourselves a discussion?"
"I have my own reasons for heading west that don't involve you. Besides, I'm not exactly a team player." Sanzo immediately retracted his thoughts on the gods for once being merciful in regards to the conversation. It just figured this man wouldn't take no for an answer the first time around. Hazel was soon going to learn that besides 'die' and 'I'll kill you', 'no' was Sanzo's next favorite word.
"Well..." The slow, lazy drawl drew his glance over at the other man who shifted a little by the window, a little frown now replacing the smile. "I hate to state the obvious, Mr. Sanzo, but you're already workin' in a team. What's wrong with addin' a couple more player to the board?"
"We're not a team. We just are bound by rotten karma and shitty luck," he growled, taking another hit to try and quickly finish off the cigarette. Once it was gone, he wouldn't have an excuse to be out in the hall way and could return to his room. Some may have called it a hasty retreat. He called it showing restraint. By leaving, he was restraining himself from cracking the fan over the man's head. If Hazel was impressed before on how he wielded it, just wait until he got a first hand experience of what it was like. "They do come in handy every once in a while, though," he conceded after a pause.
"If you're lookin' for handy folk, you can't get much better than Gat and I," Hazel pressed. He flashed his smile and shrugged as he leaned against the window sill again, staring up at the full moon overhead. Sanzo's frown deepened ever so slightly as those eyes flinched slightly at the corners. Something passed over the surface that turned the smile into a mask. It was a darker emotion, but it was too quick to pinpoint exactly what it was.
Sanzo lifted the cigarette to his lips and continued to stare at the other man beside him, waiting for him to continue. It was obvious by him still being there that the bishop didn't think their conversation was over. The tip to his cigarette flared in the darkness seconds before the smokey, burning wash of nicotine filled his mouth and was sucked down into his lungs. It always stung, no matter how used to it he was, but the stinging sensation was always welcomed and received by his lungs. Finally, after several minutes went by and Hazel didn't say shit, Sanzo demanded, "Just what the hell do you want? If you're looking for more followers, you're wasting your breath."
"Ever consider the moon, Mr. Sanzo?" Hazel inquired back, his eyes still trained on that shining orb. That darkness veiled over his blue eyes again, sticking more firmly this time so that Sanzo, with a little start, recognized it. Agony. Pure, unadulterated agony. This was a man who'd gone through some heavy shit and come out alive but scarred from it. The type of pain he saw there was of a very personal nature, something he was certain Hazel had never meant for him to see, judging by the way he was usually so careful with his expressions. Even the near hostility toward Hakkai had been coldly calculated, intent on trying to push the green eyed youkai over the edge. This brief look into Hazel Grosse was the genuine article. There was no way someone could fake that much pain without having personally gone through it.
"What about it?" he asked, still watching the other man intently.
"No matter where y'are, it's always showin' you the same face."
What... Sanzo arched a brow and shook his head lightly. If that wasn't faulty logic, he didn't know what was. "The same could be said of the sun, though," he argued. He had no idea where this little astronomy chat was going or what point the other man was trying to prove with mentioning the moon and faces. It didn't matter though, he'd stated a valid response to that.
"I reckon you've got yourself a master, right?"
The question hit him colder than being bitch slapped while standing naked in the snow. It took more willpower than he wanted not to simply walk away. He forced himself to remain, the only indication that the question had any effect on him being the tightness that now pressed against his shoulders. "Your point." It wasn't a question. This guy was seriously close to pressing buttons he really shouldn't. It wasn't a surprise that Hazel would arrive to that conclusion. A man who professed to understand the Buddhist faith would know how the temples operated. What bothered him was the fact that the bishop seemed to know about his master. Why else go from talking about the moon to this?
"My own master," Hazel began softly, a faint trace of a reminiscent smile still to his lips. It was the bitter anger and that same darkening of pain that told Sanzo before the words were out this wasn't a happy story. "Was a kindly sorta man. He took me in and raised my like I was his own son. Back then, I was a helpless child. No family, no friends... no one except my master."
Hazel sighed, straightening from his bent position to lean against the frame work, eyes still glued on the moon. "Then, on a beautiful night almost like this one, he was murdered while protectin' me from monsters."
Sanzo barely heard the last bit. That sigh had told him the ending before it had even come and had sent his own thoughts spiraling down to another night, one soaked over in terrential rains. The pounding of the storm had hidden the youkai aura from everyone... Sanzo closed his eyes and let the smoke burning idly from his lit cigarette hit his nose and try to draw him away from thoughts splattered over with blood. It worked well to remove the blood he was seeing behind his eyes, or the remembered feel of that hot, thick liquid as it arced through the air and landed with tiny plops onto the ground. It covered him from head to toe, his master's blood. He remembered staring at it on the ground and thinking that Master's blood didn't deserve to be left on the floor like that. Gods, he'd tried gathering the liquid in his hands, just to get it off the damned floor...
He needed nicotine. Nicotine would help... Slowly, still being held by the memories that shouldn't have come out tonight, he brought the cigarette to his lips. The press of the springy filter against his lips urged him to open his mouth just enough to get the stick in place. Another burst of will power made him breath in. Ash fluttered from the end in pale grey wisps, the tip glowed a bright orange and then... smoke coated his tongue and slid down his throat. It's burning heat was what finally drew him fully out of from the pouring rain of that night to the shining brilliance of this one.
His exhale of that same smoke was slow and only slightly shakey. Another hit brought relief to his system as well as the realization that his cigarette was nearly burned to the filter. He could leave now, and forget this conversation. If he left now, he could get back before Yaone had to leave. Yes, he liked that idea. Just get the hell away from this man and...
"Those youkai? Monsters, that's what we call 'em from where I come from. I don't care for them at all," Hazel continued. It wasn't so much his words as the fierce, cold tone that made Sanzo stick around just a couple seconds longer. It was so completely different than the pleasant voice he commonly used that it was like listening to a totally different person altogether. It left him wondering once again just who exactly Bishop Hazel Grosse really was. Was the annoyingly chipper side the real man, or this darker, angry one? No one could be so extremely different in split seconds.
Hazel sighed again, the anger vanishing in a tiny, sad smile. "Y'know... that was some pretty impressive power you showed off yesterday. Just think what we could do if our powers were workin' together."
And that was his cue to leave. The bastard just didn't know when to stop pushing. Sanzo flicked the butt of his cigarette out into the courtyard and stepped away from the wall. He met Hazel's curious gaze with a glare of his own. "I told you already," he said firmly. "I'm not interested." And if you ask me again, I'll kill you, was left unsaid. See, restraint? He was showing so much restraint tonight it was unbelievable. He just wished it had come out a littler earlier in the evening. Maybe restraint would have kept the argument from occuring.
"Mr. Sanzo, wait!"
Sanzo paused half way down the hall, glancing over his shoulder without turning fully around. He was trying to make it as obvious as possible that their conversation was finished and he wasn't going to discuss it again.
"You're human, aren't you?"
It took him a second to decide whether the question was asked to be funny or in all seriousness. The way Hazel stood behind him, face devoid of his smile and open in it's suspicion told him that it was meant to be taken seriously. The man actually thought he was a youkai. "And what value does that have?" he shot back before walking away from the other man. Idiot. Just because the bishop hated youkai didn't mean everyone else in the world had to as well. Not every youkai was evil and murdering, and not every human was pure and innocent. Any man with half an ounce of intelligence would realize that.
And with that, he made his way back to the room where his youkai girlfriend was asleep. His lips twitched briefly as he imagined Hazel's reaction to not only a holy man who was having sex, but a holy man who was having sex (and a relationship... still, he hoped) with a youkai. If Hazel Grosse was trying to win him over, talking shit about youkai was definately the wrong way to go about it.
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Yaone wasn't asleep. She hadn't ever fallen asleep, just pretended to do so. Her body ached, but in a very good way. Well, physically it was good. Emotionally, she felt like she was dying. He'd purposely avoided any sort of eye contact with her as they'd had sex, which hurt more than any words or accusations he could have thrown at her. It was like he was unable to look at the person he was screwing. It turned what was normally such an intimate thing into something ugly and... painful. It didn't matter how good it had been, it left her feeling dirty. She should have told him to stop. He would have, no doubt about it. The only reason she hadn't was because she didn't want him thinking she was pulling away again. So... she'd given in to the way he made her body react, waiting for only a couple of seconds while he relearned to breathe before touching his shoulder just enough to tell him she wanted him to move.
She'd turned away from him, rolling to her side, so he wouldn't see her cry. The minute she'd felt him stiffen next to her was the minute she realized how else her action could be construed. The softly muttered, "Goddamn it," confirmed it for her and made the tears fall faster. Despite her desire not to turn away from him, she'd done just that. Now, it was her turn to be afraid of looking at her lover. She could already imagine the anger and hurt in his eyes and knew nothing she said could change that. If only he knew the real reason...
It had surprised her a little, after laying there for several hours with her eyes closed and pretending to sleep, when she'd felt his fingers move along her spine. The touch was soft, what she would secretly call tender (though he would deny the use of the word vehemently), and said more than any number of passionate kisses. It was the apology he wouldn't say out loud, it was him asking her forgiveness... and it was also him confirming that he did love her. She couldn't begin to explain how she knew all that through the feather light touches that traced over her scars and further down to the base of her spine, but she did. It was just that simple intuition that came through many nights spent with him, talking and studying his behaviors until she could tell just by a twitch of his lips what he was thinking.
Her fingers had curled tightly into the pillow then, eyes closing and heart racing at the gentle caresses. SIlently, she prayed that he would just pull her to him, regardless of the fact that she'd literally turned her back on him. She wanted him to reach for her for a change, not the other way around. She was tired of pushing more than half way just to reach him. It was time he reciprocate and met her at the half way point for a change. God, how many months had gone by where he would retreat and she'd chase after him, tackling him and his inner demons to try and drag them back toward the light? And, every time she thought she'd finally gotten her hands on him, he slipped away yet again. It was... exhausting. It was to the point now where she wasn't sure if loving him really was enough.
How could she love someone who wouldn't let her? It was a pattern she was starting to see, something so deep rooted she wasn't sure even he was aware of it. Everytime they came to a new level of understanding in their relationship, he fought against it. It was like he was looking for reasons to make what they had fail. None of the risks had changed. From the very start of things, they'd known exactly what they were getting into. He knew this, deep down, and therefore couldn't use his mission as a problem. So... he created complications himself. Yes, he'd been right about Kougaiji being interested in her. There was no way she could deny that now, but his interest in her didn't translate as her returning that interest. Sanzo was jumping to a conclusion, however logical he may have found it at the time. The fact that he was acting before he thought (which was NOT at all like him) was the proof she needed to support her theory. Genjyo Sanzo, the human monk who stood before armies of fierce youkai warriors with no fear, was afraid of simply letting her love him.
Yaone continued to savor the soft touches to her back, and continued to pray to God that he would just finish the movement and slide his arm around her waist, tuck her in against himself. It would be the first real time he'd ever reached to hold her. Him stopping her when she was about to leave didn't count. That had been an act of desperation to keep her there while trying to end the argument the only way he could without actually apologizing. This, however... this would say everything he wouldn't. This would be the sign that she needed that everything would be okay, they would get through this. If he reached for her...
She almost screamed at him when he pulled away his touch, the bed creaking a moment after as he sat up completely. Yaone's eyes cracked open, the stinging prick of tears blurring what she could see of the room. All she could see clearly was ivory silk robes disappearing behind the soft click of the door. The lock slid in place before footsteps told her Sanzo was walking away. She finally gave way to the tears that had resurfaced, sobbing as quietly as she could into her pillow. The space that was formerly his was quickly cooling off so that not even a lingering trace of body heat was there to comfort her any longer. She curled her knees up tighter to her chest and continued to cry until her throat was sore and her eyes were undoubtedly red.
It still took her several minutes of laying in bed, screaming internally for him to come and hold her, before she sat up numbly, glaring at the locked door with bitter anger. He wouldn't do it, not yet at any rate. She was beginning to doubt Sanzo ever would break down and be the one to reach for her. It was all well and good to talk about being in a relationship all the way, but when that 'all the way' meant fourty percent from him and sixty from her... She wiped her eyes, letting out a shakey sigh as she bent to gather her clothing. She was tired of constantly running after him. If he wanted her then he would chase her for a change.
Once she was dressed, she stood and went over to where his bag hung on the bed post, digging through the cigarettes, bullets, rolls of paper, ink, pens and spare clothing until she found what she was looking for; a map. She quickly turned on a light, blinking in the sudden brightness as her keen eyes adjusted to the change. She opened the map on the table, her eyes scanning over the features and landscape until they found the town they were currently in. A red path had been drawn over the map with 'X's marking off the towns they'd stayed at along their journey. There were a couple breaks in the line, most likely from being knocked off their course on a couple occassions, but the line never wavered from heading west. It ended with an X through Choudre, where they currently were.
Yaone fished out a piece of paper and a pen from her bag, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully as she studied the map. What she was about to do was going to piss him off. Sanzo didn't like ultimatums of any sort, but he was forcing her hand on this one. If this worked, then their relationship still stood a chance. If not... She shook her head grimly, eyes narrowing to focus on the map again. No, she wouldn't think like that. That touch told her that he still wanted her, and wanted what they could have together. All this was going to do was force him into making a decision. Reach for her, or risk losing her.
She pin pointed a city on the map with her claw, deciding it looked to be a good place. It wasn't off course for his journey and was perhaps three days of traveling if everything went smoothly, four if it didn't. The side key noted that it was a large, prosperous town as well, which would work suitably well for her. Her hand shook as she quickly wrote out her message before drawing a circle around the city in question. She left the map out on the table for him to find, grabbed her bag from the floor and headed for the door with the note in hand. He was clever enough to figure it out, and besides... let him do a little digging around for her this time.
The desk clerk was now a young girl who was idly flipping through a magazine, completely bored with the lack of early morning traffic. Her gaze flicked up as Yaone slid the folded piece of paper across the desk to her. "Would you please see to it Master Sanzo receives this before he leaves?" she asked with as bright a smile as she could muster.
"Yeah, sure," the girl answered, taking the note and dropping it into a little envelope. She scribbled Sanzo's name across the front and propped it up so that the next shift coming in could see it. "Is there anything else, miss? Do you need to check out?"
"No, that's not necessary, thank you." She left the girl blinking in confusion at the desk, pushing through the door quickly.
As she left the inn, the sun was just beginning to grey the sky, giving a little light to her departure. She couldn't tell if her steps were heavy because she hadn't slept at all or because of the nervous, sickening feeling in her gut over what she'd just done. She was beyond worrying if he was angered by her actions. To her, if he did as her note asked, she would endure hours upon hours of him being angry. At least it would mean he was trying to reach her for a change.
----------
The first thing Sanzo noticed when he came to his room was that the door was no longer locked. That had set off warning bells like crazy in his head. Forcing his breathing to slow down and remain quiet, the monk pressed himself flat to the wall on one side of the door, reaching into his robes for his gun. He didn't sense any youkai aura, but that didn't necessarily mean a good thing. No aura at all meant he wasn't even picking up Yaone's, which meant she'd either left or worse... Shit, come to think of it, that bishop had come down the hall from this direction...
It was the concern that perhaps Hazel had picked up on her aura, too, and decided to add another soul to his collection that sent him through the door, the wood splintering a bit from the hinges as he kicked it open before dropping to one knee, gun ready to fire. The room was completely dark and in order. No signs of a struggle and none of that lingering cold that always followed after the ressurection power was used. the only thing out of place was the bed. It was unmade and empty. Sanzo stood slowly, pointing his gun toward the ceiling as his other hand flicked the light switch on.
The light made him flinch a little, eyes squinting in the sudden assault as they continued to survey the room. Yaone was gone. She'd purposely waited until he'd left to sneak out. Slowly, he lowered the gun, snapping the safety back in place before tucking it into his robes. She was gone. The words kept repeating around his head as he shut the door, something close to numbing shock curling through his stomach and into his chest. She was gone. She'd left him. Yaone...
His eyes fell on the table and at the map spread across the top. His map, the one that had been in his bag. Frowning, he walked over to, eyes scanning for anything in particular that was different or hinted at why she'd pulled it out to begin with. Was this some kind of message to him? If so, it sucked. There was nothing different about it except...
Tamal... He slid the map closer on the table, eyes instantly falling on the black circle around the city's name. He sure as hell didn't put it there. Why in the hell would she circle Tamal? A quick reading of the key said it was a larger city, maybe about four days away if they drove straight without interuption. It was almost directly in their line of travel, too. His eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a dark frown as he glared down at the map. Maybe this wasn't a message of some kind. Maybe she'd been looking at the map to best judge where they would be staying next. The circle could just be for her own benefit. A question came to mind, quick and sudden but it was enough to make his fingers curl into angry fists. What if she was spying out their next possible location for an attack?
That made him pull a chair out enough to sit down in. Shit... he needed a cigarette. He pulled the pack from his robes, ignoring how his hand shook a little as he lit up. The nicotine worked its way through the tightness in his chest and his body's unwillingness to draw a full breath. Gods, what if this was what he thought? It would mean she'd been using him the entire time. He didn't think that likely at all. Yaone was a fairly easy person to read most of the time. If he'd thought she'd been using him, he would have picked up on it. Hakkai would have, too. He was a pretty perceptive bastard. Of course... Goku didn't trust her, not as far as he could drop kick her. The boy did have a good point about enemies trying to kill each other. Who was to say Yaone wasn't simply following Kougaiji's orders?
He took another hit, his lungs relaxing enough to let the smoke in fully as he continued to stare in confusion at the map. Another idea surfaced, one that completely counteracted the darker one before it. What if she was trying to tell him to avoid Tamal, that there was something planned there? It made sense then to circle it on the map. She wouldn't be disobeying Kougaiji because she technically didn't say a word to him about it. All she'd done was circle the city's name on a map. He didn't think she was the type to carelessly mark off where a planned attack was going to occur, not unless she wanted him to find it. Why else leave the map out on the table to begin with? The part of him that still cared for Yaone was really pushing for this idea... and the logic behind it seemed more sound to him.
Whatever the hell the case was, there was no way they were going to Tamal. Unless she'd left further hints for him, he couldn't risk it. Sanzo finished smoking and crushed the dead filter into an ash tray before shrugging off everything but his jeans at leather top. He needed to catch a little sleep before they left in a few hours. He'd inquire at the front desk in the morning if anyone had dropped a note for him.
----------
Hazel remained half hidden in the shadows just by the stairs as the she-demon came down once again. Oh, she looked nicely human enough... but he wasn't at all a headless chicken and he knew very well that those pretty gold bracelets were nothing more than a disguise for her demon appearance. Throwing a wool sweater over a wolf doesn't make it a lamb. He listened in, completely unnoticed by both her and the girl clerk as she left a message for Master Sanzo before exiting quickly. Judging by the redness to her eyes, he'd say the she'd been crying. Not that he was particulalry moved by the tears of a demon. If anything, it repulsed him to think such creatures had such similar reactions as a human. What right did the monsters have to cry at night?
His gloved fingers traced the pendant around his neck as he mulled over the situation presented to him. On the one hand, he could go after her and take her soul. It was still dark out and none of the other demons upstairs would even know about it. Or... he could get that note. There was only one reason he could think of a young woman would inquire after a gentleman during the night and then slip out in the early morning hours. Lord have mercy, he truly hoped Sanzo hadn't slipped that far down the path! Consorting with monsters was one thing. He could admit that all but that red-haired smudge of existance were rather tolerable fellows, but to actually take such abominations to bed... Hazel's hand dropped to his stomach as it jerked violently at the very thought.
Well, clearly Mr. Sanzo wasn't thinking right. He could only hope to God it was some kind of demon magic, like a siren's song or a succubus, that was holding him thrall to the female who had just left. It just wasn't... natural. He wasn't surprised such a young man was looking for a way to ease the lonely nights, even if that young man was something of a blessed person. But why would a fellow, who could easily walk into any tavern or watering hole in the world and walk out with a dozen or so young ladies without even opening his mouth, settle for that? Humans belonged with humans. Demons belonged with demons... or in the ground, as far as he was concerned.
Sighing to himself, Hazel stepped from the shadows, instantly throwing on his most charmingly innocent smile as he walked up to the girl at the desk. "Excuse me, miss, I was wonderin' if there were any messages for me and my travelin' companions?" he asked. Whatever the reason behind this grotesque affair, he just couldn't sit back and watch a fellow human fall like this. What the monk didn't know wouldn't hurt him. In fact, it just might save him in the end. No demon, no matter how noble they claimed their intentions were, was worthy of trusting. Mr. Sanzo had gone far too long without the company of another human and it was really starting to show.
"Oh... yes, Bishop," the girl replied promptly. She dug underneath the counter for the many thank you notes and pleads to assist that the townsfolk had dropped for him. It tore his very heart out to see so many crying for his power, while he couldn't do a blessed thing about it. Not a single itty bitty trace of a soul was left in his pendant, and so these poor people would have to suffer through their loss. He was beginning to regret letting those two upstairs from stopping him for that boy, and added to the regret was that he'd decided to stay here and collect that letter instead of hunting down the she-demon.
He sighed as he sorted through the thank-yous and the requests before turning his smile back to her. "And if ya don't mind, might I collect Master Sanzo's as well? See, he's kinda had a rough night and asked me to get any notes for him as well."
The girl hesitated only briefly, an uncertain bend to her brow as she slowly handed the sealed envelope to him. Hazel took it with a polite tip of his hat to her. "Much obliged, little miss. Thank you kindly!" She smiled back before returning to her magazine. Hazel tucked his small stack into his robes as he went back up the stairs, carefully opening the letter so the girl didn't notice his snooping. Normally, he wouldn't even dream of being such a sneak, but saving Mr. Sanzo from this demon's clutches just became a new priority on his list. Despite the bad temper and even worse habits, he rather liked the man. Besides, how could he let someone who wielded a fan with such amazing accuracy go to the demons? It just wasn't right.
He arched a brow as he read the simple note to himself. "If you want me, come find me. Tamal in four days." So... it was like that then, was it? Apparently, if that tone were any indication, this wasn't a very happy couple at the present. Maybe he didn't have to do too much work after all. He crumpled the paper up into a tiny knot and deposited it into a potted plant just outside his door.