King Rat: Our Kingdom

Author Notes: Consensus is in- everyone says long chapter. You ask, I deliver! Now, uh, the other thing.

This chapter contains disturbing material.

Yeah. I'm sorry. Writing this chapter is the only point thus far where I have finished a scene, reread it, and decided I could not publish what I had written because I had gone too far. Maybe my threshold for "going too far" is low, but this chapter is just plain unpleasant at points. The unpleasant material is in the section in italics towards the end, so, uh, prepare yourself. It was a deliberate attempt at horror, but I tried to make it worse and I'm just not going to be satisfied with it. Hopefully, I at least got the idea across...

One last thing! Everyone who has been referring to the baby as the "flower," following Gojyo's lead, you have no idea how right you are. Kana actually does mean "flower." Kanan does as well, just with the added "~n." Japanese naming conventions are fun like that- take any root name and add a syllable, like "~n" or "-e" and you have a whole new name!

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, but the scenario is.

35: Wilting White Poppies (Your Favorite Nightmare)

WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DISTURBING IMAGERY. I sincerely apologize. This material will be confined to text in italics, so please use your own judgment in reading. If you can't take it, skip to the scene that starts with "No Light No Light.")

October wobbled on its last legs, and November waited on the precipice. Sanzo found his workload increasing in preparation for the upcoming registration, but he could still see Gojyo over it. Goku happily volunteered to help as much as he could- "After all, Gojyo definitely needs the break!" he'd laughed to himself, before clamming up and rushing out- and soon was in charge of taking the boys home from school every day. It was enough for Sanzo to just get through the growing stacks of paperwork and reports Akio brought him every morning, and he could think of no good way to escape to that pleasure.

"I'm so sorry to be weighing you down again," Akio broached one morning, as Sanzo wearily took the offered work off of his hands. "I do hope you're getting enough time with your wards."

Sanzo sniffed, and hauled the papers to his desk. "If you had children who looked up to you, then you'd know that there's never enough time." Akio stifled a chuckle at this.

"I never realized you capable of such hollow platitudes, Lord Sanzo."

"You may find the mundane gain meaning as you gain life experience." Sanzo flipped a page over. "Strange; you are older than me, one would think you'd understand." He sneered up at Akio. "Go away. If I'm going to see my wards tonight, then I need to clear this out."

"Of course." Akio took a step back, then turned and walked away. Sanzo settled at his desk, and Akio didn't leave earshot until he heard the gentle, crisp crackle of the tatami mats as Sanzo pulled his chair in close. Avadhuti soon joined him, hands folded behind his back. "You have had no success in determining the identities of those boys' mothers, I take it?"

"I have only the barest scraps to go by," Avadhuti admitted in a rumble. "Had I something of theirs, I would find more success. A bit of hair, some possession held dear. As it is, I've only the traces of their auras from when they pass by, and though my memory is strong, such moments are fleeting. All I can determine for certain is that they share blood."

"They share a sire; of course they share blood."

"Their auras are very similar." Avadhuti shrugged, but gave his master a stern, implication-laden look. Akio didn't seem to pick up on it. "I will continue to study. Perhaps since I encountered the hanyou more recently- though seven months can hardly be called recent- I may have more luck focusing on him."

"Ah. Do so." He closed his eyes for a moment. "The human- fair-haired and blue-eyed, wasn't he?" The corners of his lips turned up with a smile. "I admit a bit of intrigue with the lad. Lord Sanzo has a nigh-celestial air to him, despite his crude nature. He seems to have passed it on to the child. I wonder, perhaps, if he has some greater destiny. It's rare than a child born to a Shangri-La woman bears the light eyes of the gods. Perhaps we will not need to convince his mother she wants him returned." Akio's smile widened, childlike. "Perhaps the gods have a greater purpose in mind." Avadhuti hummed reluctant assent, and the two continued on their way back across the sandy path towards Akio's office.

Neither were quite aware that they could be heard, nor that they were. It was funny how many people forgot how well animals could hear; in particular, the animal residing on temple grounds. Goku opened his eyes from the garden outside of Sanzo's window, where his morning meditation had been interrupted by a disturbing conversation, and wrinkled his nose. "Boy, won't he be surprised." He dusted his legs and rushed into Sanzo's office.

"Anything interesting come to you?" Sanzo asked, without looking up from the letter unfolded in his hands.

Goku started, "Yeah, those-" but stopped. Stupid rules. Can't directly interfere, my ass. "Just some assholes being loud." He kicked his feet and looked through the ground. "Couldn't even hear the birds over them."

"Listening to birds?"

"They run away when I try to watch 'em." He shuffled his feet as he went to his bedroll and started to dig through his duffel. It had been a small wonder to Sanzo that Goku never took up any permanent furniture, instead content to keep his clothes in the bag and his comic collection in growing stacks in the corner. He never asked, so Goku never answered for it. "Talkin' about migratin' for the winter." He looked up at the wall for a moment, and shivered. "I hope it's just birds, anyway." He glanced over his shoulder, where Sanzo hadn't moved from his desk. There's gotta be something I can do to warn him. He should be more careful. "You know, when it gets cold like this, this room gets really cold. Maybe you should take your work somewhere warmer."

"I don't mind it. I can focus here." Sanzo turned his page over.

"Hmm." He narrowed his eyes, and started to dig for his socks. "Y'know, Gojyo has that empty attic. I keep wonderin' what he'll do with it. He could make you a private office."

"Gojyo doesn't want me in his hair. He has no time to clean that room out." Sanzo was starting to sound impatient, a grind in his lower register. Goku rolled his eyes.

"I wasn't sayin' to make him do it, I know he can't. But I'll do it!" Sanzo sniffed, and Goku threw his hands up. "Well, you whine about feelin' distant, and I know you wanna be closer. If you were there during the day, you could get closer." Sanzo stayed quiet, and Goku couldn't tell if he was being ignored, or if Sanzo just didn't have an answer for him. Time to drop it. "So, what's in your stack of wonders for today?" He rolled his socks down and scampered behind Sanzo's desk to peek at the papers in his hand. "Ah- that one looks handwritten." Sanzo put them down.

"It's a letter from Hazel. Personal business, as it stands."

"Hazel?!" Goku scrambled around Sanzo to try and snatch the letter, and Sanzo planted a palm into Goku's face to keep him off. "Gimme! I wanna see! Lemme see!"

"Idiot monkey, off!" He shoved Goku back, snorting as Goku stumbled. "It's nothing interesting. We've been writing back and forth, here and there, over the past few years. He updates me on his orphanages, I update him on what news I can glean." He picked the letter up again. "But he always demands to hear about my wards."

"Oh, he knows about Eiji and Yohei?" Goku bounded right back to the desk, like a boomerang on delay, to peek at the letter. "What does he think?"

"He was surprised that I fell so willingly into fatherhood." Sanzo sneered, but flipped the letter over. "I imagine he's having a grand laugh at my expense."

"Hehe, sounds like Hazel." Goku beamed. "So, you tell him much about the boys?"

"That's just the thing." Sanzo frowned slightly, and looked at the paper and pen on his desk, his partially-finished letter. "I try to tell him a few little things, but..." He trailed off, and picked up the letter. All four pages. Front and back. "I can't seem to stop. After all, since we last communicated, they've both grown a few centimeters, the festival came and went, the boys had their big race at school, there was that excellent play during the soccer game last week, Yohei's always finding interesting bugs on the playground, Eiji's gotten so smart, and Gojyo told me he was going to get them some new jackets, and-" He paused. "There's just so much."

"Sure is." Goku scanned Sanzo's letter quickly, looking for anything he could seize on. Failing, he nudged Sanzo's shoulder with his elbow. "It's an exciting time, huh? Weird, you'd never talk this much with your mouth. Maybe you're better at writing stuff than saying it!" He smiled up at Sanzo, and Sanzo nodded. "It'd just be nice if you could write your travel journal this easily."

"Oh, fuck off." Sanzo slapped the letter back to the table. "Were you going to help today? It's a school holiday, isn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah." Goku grumbled and shoved his shoes on. Sanzo stilled, and watched Goku comb his hair and tie it in a sloppy bun.

"Perhaps if I finish early, I can come join you."

"That'd be nice." Goku looked up, smiling, encouraging. "Gojyo's been real tired lately. You know." He broke their eye contact. "With stuff, and all."

"Has he? I suppose he has looked a bit listless of late." Sanzo rubbed his chin, and Goku sighed heavily.

"Yeah, whatever. I'm gone. Have fun. All alone. By yourself. Away." He bounded out, trying very hard not to be angry. How dense could Sanzo be?! Just tell me already!

And Sanzo worked, all alone, by himself, away from his family, certain that this was what Gojyo wanted, what would make him happy. He certainly wasn't happy, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make if it would give Gojyo some measure of peace.

Goku bounced into the shop, swiping his jacket off as he crossed the threshold. Hakkai put a book he'd been leafing through under some papers, and set his elbows on his desk and put on his less-than-business, hello-friend smile.

"You're here early. Ready for abuse, eh?" He grinned slyly. "I do believe the younger rapscallions were asking about fishing in the river. They were learning about fish migration in school, and they said they wanted to bring home a salmon for Daddy. I hadn't the heart to correct them."

"Salmon, eh? This far inland?" Goku snickered, and tilted his head towards the back office. "Hey Gojyo!" He didn't hear a response, but peered up the steps. "Guys! Big cousin's here!" He heard a series of whoops and cheers from the upstairs flat, then smirked toothily at Hakkai. "Think Ichi wants to come with?"

"I think Ryuichi will stay home and study. His grades have been slipping of late." Hakkai said this a bit louder than necessary, to an exaggerated dying-whale moan from the stairwell.

"It's only math and chemistry and history, 'Kai!" Ryuichi sighed, but was drowned out by the twins rushing past him to dive onto Goku. Goku caught them and swung them around, their gleeful greetings just drowning out Hakkai's admonishment that 'those are three of your five core classes, young man, it's frankly embarrassing to barely pull passing grades when you live with a teacher, blah blah, I'm a stick in the mud, et cetera.'

"Hi babies!" Goku squeezed the both of them tight, not quite sure which beaming, cheerful face to look at. "Did you have fun with Ichi?"

"Ichi's a dork!"

"Ichi's no fun!"

"Brats," Ryuichi grumbled, and both twins stuck their tongues out at him. "You didn't totally hate me yesterday." Eiji pulled his lower eyelid when Ryuichi turned his back to pick up an old rag, then grinned up at Goku.

"Lookit, cousin, gettin' a tooth!" He pointed at the little gap between his front teeth and left canine, and Goku squinted to see a little white ridge poking through the gum. Goku got it- the twins had remembered how Eiji had lost that tooth.

"Very cool, Ei." He set the boys down, then glanced back to the work room again. "I haven't heard from your Daddy yet. Go get your shoes on, I'm gonna check on him." He shooed the twins towards the door, and swung through the doorway to Gojyo's work room. Gojyo was slumped wearily on his stool, hunched over his desk. "Hey, Gojyo, you okay?"

"Yeah, but we lost the fight at melee range," Gojyo muttered. Goku cocked his head.

"Gojyo? What fight? Melee?" Goku scarcely wanted to say anything- it wasn't his place- but Gojyo's exhaustion was more noticeable by the day. It had gotten worse over the past few days, but incoherent babbling was probably the worst he'd seen yet. "Earth to Gojyo, dude!"

"Yeah, the stars, y'know?" Gojyo spread his hands wide, following the arcing path between them with his nose. "Big ol' aster, with purple irises." He slid out of the stool like silk on an incline, and took a wobbly step towards Goku. "It'll be so pretty when... when..." Gojyo's eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped like a hammer against the rickety steel shelf. Goku rushed forward to catch the shelf itself, but Gojyo landed hard enough to knock some of the vases and books off with clatters, clashes, and a tinkling crash. Goku swore under his breath- why hadn't he caught Gojyo?! In less than a second, Hakkai, Ryuichi, and the twins had gathered at the door, and Hakkai had rushed in to pick Gojyo up, bridal-style, and carried him out of the office. The twins tried to clamber through the door and then towards the stairs to get to Gojyo as well, and Ryuichi had to restrain them, as they cried out over one another in a clamor:

"Uncle, what happened to Daddy?!"

"Daddy, wake up!"

"Daddy, please!"

"Uncle, fix 'im!"

"Guys," Ryuichi whispered, "Hakkai's got 'im." Hakkai, indeed, had Gojyo, and carried him up into the house. Goku pushed the shelf securely against the wall and ruffled both boys' hair as he passed them.

"I'll go check on him, okay?" He looked to Ryuichi, and mouthed, "Take them somewhere they won't get to the glass." Ryuichi nodded, and Goku bounded across the room to follow Hakkai.

Gojyo was blinking when Goku got into the apartment, and Hakkai grabbed his arms as he closed in. "What happened?"

"I dunno, he was just mumbling nonsense, and then he just collapsed!"

"Vertigo?" Hakkai rubbed his forehead in his hand, then shook his head. "No, he shouldn't, not still, but-"

Goku's eyes widened. Yes! Yes! A little more detail! Come on, Hakkai, spill!

"My, the poor man," Hakkai sighed. "He'd been sick, I had hoped it had gone. I suppose I'll need to keep an eye on him again." Goku resisted stomping his feet and snapping his fingers, and instead leaned over Gojyo.

"So, you awake, wimpy kappa?"

Gojyo's hand shot up towards Goku's neck, but landed on his shoulder instead. "Call me a wimp again, and I'll make your species of monkey extinct." He grinned toothily and sat up slowly. "Shit, my head is killing me." His head fell the moment his neck was straight. "Did I pass out?"

"You did." Hakkai landed on the couch beside Gojyo with a glass of water. "Do you remember what happened?"

"I dunno, my head got really heavy, and... yeah, I don't remember." Gojyo groaned and rubbed his head. "Shit, are you s'posed to dream when you pass out?"

Hakkai pursed his lips, a frown creased his brow. "No. Did you?" Gojyo nodded. "What was it?" Gojyo seemed to think, but his eyes rested on Goku.

"Eh, just the usual stuff, I guess." He started to push himself off the couch, but Hakkai pinned his hand and pushed him back down by his shoulder.

"You're going to lay down for a little while." It was not a recommendation nor a suggestion. "Drink your water and rest for an hour, and I'll check on you later."

"Kai, I'm not that fragile, I've just been sleeping like shit lately." Gojyo groaned and rolled his head against the arm of the couch.

"Listen to the Doc," Goku teased. "I'm taking the boys fishing, okay?"

"Sure, have fun. Bring home a big one, okay?" Gojyo managed a grin, but Goku could see weakness behind it.

Say you're not fragile all you want, but you're starting to look pretty close to breaking to me.

Goku escorted the boys to Gojyo, just long enough for them to see he was alright and to get some goodbye kisses, then took them out. Ryuichi caught his arm as he tried to leave, broom still in the crook of his elbow.

"Do you know what's wrong with Gojyo?"

YES. Kind of. Maybe. But if you don't know, I'm not gonna tell ya.

Goku shrugged. "He said he'd been having trouble sleeping. He must'a been sleepwalking without realizing it."

"Oh." Ryuichi drooped, the broom slumped onto his shoulder. "I'm getting really worried, Mr. Goku. It's been months since he's been himself. You've known him longer, though, has he been like this before?"

Goku chewed his lower lip. "Well, yeah. Once. Maybe twice." He shrugged. "Everyone has that hard place inside of them that they go to sometimes. It's hard to get out of it, y'know?" He released the boys' hands to clap Ryuichi's shoulders. "But that big, stupid dork who smokes too much and wears a crooked smile that doesn't go away? That's Gojyo. We just gotta take care of him until he comes back."

"Right." Ryuichi smiled, but his head inclined. Goku grabbed hold of the boys again.

"Come on, kids, we're in charge of dinner tonight!" He escorted them out, and the two started to talk to him, asking dozens of questions about fishing and where they were going to go and where they would get rods and bait and how long would it take to catch a salmon. Goku only had one question in mind, even as he gave the boys their answers as quick as they could ask.

This is definitely affecting Ryuichi, and it's gotta be affecting them, too. What's keeping him from making this right?

Inside, Hakkai had made Gojyo tea to go with his water and put some crackers and carrots on a plate for him. "A nice little snack, and something to get your head on straight." He patted his back, and Gojyo felt a charge of his chi.

"Go deep, bro; is she okay?" Gojyo looked dolefully up at him. Hakkai's palm settled on his shoulder blade, and after a moment, he nodded.

"As okay as she's been."

"Good. Just me that's messed up." He kicked his shoes off and shook his feet out; his ankles were swollen already, and he felt bad not leaving his shoes at the door. "I dunno, man; are you supposed to have nightmares when you're...?" He nodded to the little paunch in his middle. "Y'know."

"I do remember reading that one can have more intense dreams during pregnancy, yes." Hakkai touched his lower lip in thought. "Have you been?" Gojyo nodded. "I see. Would you like to tell me about your dreams?" Not at all to Hakkai's surprise, Gojyo shook his head.

"They're pretty fucking weird." He shrugged his shoulders, and kicked his feet up onto the opposing arm of the couch. "I mean, I had weird dreams with the boys, but those were just..." He trailed off, smirking. "Made sure to remember some of those."

"Ah. Sex dreams."

"My imagination makes Sanzo striptease like a pro." Gojyo grinned, but it faded. "These are nothin' like that." He sighed, and rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. "Now, even though I'm tired, I can't sleep, 'cause my heart starts racing just thinkin' about having to have them again." He rested one hand over his heart. "I'm starting to get scared I'm overworking the stupid thing."

"You'd be surprised the amount of damage that muscle can take. I'm more worried that your vertigo's returning."

"Never went away," Gojyo muttered. "It just took a little vacation, now it's back with a fuckin' vengeance."

The bell downstairs chimed, and Hakkai sighed. "We can talk more later. Rest there, play some solitaire, or read-" He grabbed the newspaper from the kitchen table and plopped it on Gojyo's lap- "Or close your eyes, eat your snack, and I'll come check on you soon."

"Hrm." Gojyo picked up one of the raw carrots on the plate. "You tryin' to turn me into a rabbit?"

"Ah, so you noticed I've been packing your lunches with extra vegetables?" Hakkai giggled. "You need the extra vitamins. It's for the little one, after all."

Gojyo hadn't noticed. Now he was going to, and something about that disgusted him. Hakkai jogged back down the stairs, and Gojyo folded his arms. His mind was starting to blur again. He wanted to be angrier that he was being manipulated, but he was just too damned tired to deal with it. His eyes shut from exhaustion, even though the darkness of sleep would bring him no peace.

Hakkai was happy to man the shop by himself for a while. The mornings were usually quiet; just a few regulars (whom Hakkai was always happy to see) placing their orders for the week, a few older men and women, one by one, off to visit the family stone looking for an offering, and of course, some of his fan club in to "chat." Between customers, however, he was flipping through a baby furniture magazine. He'd dogeared so many pages already- inspiration for things he wanted to make, like puffy balloon curtains with rainbow sashes, patchwork quilts in purple, pink, and baby turquoise, crocheted pillows- and even started filling out the order form for a elegant white rocking cradle and a pale pink high chair. He may have been jumping the gun- how could he possibly know it would be a girl?- but though Gojyo was stressed, thinking about the happy future helped him unwind.

Of course he still worried about Gojyo. Gojyo was his best and dearest friend, and he loved him deeply- like a brother, as he'd once or a dozen times said and thought. Seeing him anguished, made frail, and muting his bombastic personality was an ache in his gut. He was sure he hated that smile that he forced, and he didn't care that it made him a hypocrite. Somewhere in the flow of the years, he'd made his tiny heart big enough to nurture and care again, and he was driven to it now. He longed to give others the comfort and joy he had lacked, that he still lacked. Whether that was making fine meals for the children who called him Uncle though they shared no blood, or healing wounds on the friends who couldn't quite take care of themselves sometimes, it was his life's purpose. That he couldn't heal Gojyo's ills was painful for him, and in a small way, he regretted that he did care so much. It only made it ache more that he was doing nothing to solve it for good.

But he had no space for regrets. The bell chimed over the door, and he put the catalog aside to smile at the woman there. "Good morning, welcome to 85-"

And above him, Gojyo was screaming.

"I'm very sorry, you'll have to give me a moment." He bowed at the waist, then bolted around the counter and up the stairs.

Gojyo was screaming, and Hakkai was shaking him. "Gojyo! Gojyo!" Gojyo shot upright and very nearly knocked into Hakkai's head, saved by a lucky miss. He did not miss Hakkai's shirt when the crackers and carrots rocketed back up through his throat, thin and half-chewed and staining the canvas of Hakkai's apron. Hakkai was very much nonplussed, until Gojyo choked out a sob and collapsed back onto the couch again.

"I'm sorry, man, I'm so fucking sorry-" He curled a fist over his heart. "God, it hurts. Bro, I-"

"It's quite alright." Hakkai slipped his apron off and his shirt after it, and folded it around the mess. "I'll borrow one of your shirts; I left a customer in the shop when I heard you shout." He touched the mug left on the table. "It's cold, but it might still settle your stomach." Gojyo found the kitchen clock with wet, darting eyes; he'd scarcely slept for an hour. Hakkai moved for the stairwell, but paused and glanced to him. "Are... all of your nightmares that intense?"

"Worst one yet," Gojyo muttered, and rubbed his eyes. He forced a weak smile. "I'll be okay. I will. It's just a stupid dream, right?" He shivered, and fell back. "Just... just a stupid, stupid, stupid dream." He covered his eyes again.

Hakkai shivered, turning away. "Perhaps I'll do some research on methods of suppressing ill dreams. You're far too stressed for your own good. You need the sleep, and waking up crying will only interrupt your REM cycle." He retreated, and Gojyo let his back sink in to the cushion.

"Well, damn." He started to smear the tears away, not wanting to cry, hating that he was crying. He'd been doing way too much of it, and he knew he couldn't help it, but that didn't make him okay with it. "Swear to god, little girl, this ain't your fault. Daddy shouldn't cry, not over this, not over you. It's gonna go away. It's gonna get better."

God, he hoped it would get better.

And downstairs, Hakkai smiled at the customer. "My apologies for that. Our florist has taken ill, you see, I've been trying to nurse him back to health..." He discreetly tossed his catalog into the wastebasket under his counter. If Gojyo couldn't have peace, if he couldn't give him that little tiny scrap of comfort, he didn't deserve it either.

Sanzo didn't especially like perch- very fishy, and usually tasted of whatever river it came out of. It was just easier to humor the boys, who'd insisted they had caught "so many salmon, Papa!" that Hakkai had happily gutted and fried. It was passable with mayonnaise, and the delight expressed by both twins that Papa was eating their catch was more satisfying than any meal.

He caught a little smile out of Gojyo when Yohei described the big haul, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Gojyo looked strangely tired, and Sanzo noticed both Goku and Ryuichi following him with their eyes as he helped Hakkai with the dishes then played a few games with the boys.

"Daddy's feelin' better, right?" Eiji asked as Gojyo started to mix up some character tiles for some silly word game (Babble? Crabble? Some nonsense word, Sanzo didn't care.) Both Goku and Hakkai looked down and away, and Sanzo's ears perked up. He turned a hard stare to Gojyo.

"You were sick?"

"I've been having this weird lightheadedness lately." Gojyo shrugged. He always shrugged, Sanzo noticed, every time things started to get personal of late. "I kinda hung out on the couch in the morning." Gojyo reached over to squeeze Eiji's shoulder. "Don't worry, Ei, I'm fine." Sanzo noticed Yohei wearing a sharp look fixed on his back, but the hardness in his eyes vanished when Sanzo faced him.

Sanzo was certain he was missing something. He spent the rest of the night studying Gojyo closely over their evening routine. The hallmarks of exhaustion stood out; they always did on his lively face. His skin was pale, his face was hollow. His mind was very much elsewhere, gaze distant, pupils dilated. Sanzo had to catch his attention several times, and would catch his eyes flash and his smile jerk back into place. He caught Goku, Hakkai, and Ryuichi watching him as well.

There is something wrong. There definitely is.

Goku ran ahead when Gojyo saw them out, but Sanzo shut the door before Gojyo could usher him away. "You're sick. You've been sick."

"It's nothing." Gojyo folded his arms. "It's a bug. I've dealt with worse."

"Why won't you just tell me these things?" Sanzo couldn't keep his hands from curling into fists, and Gojyo flinched. Sanzo realized it, and quickly dusted his palms off on his robe. "I am not angry."

"Could'a fooled me."

"I'm concerned! D-" Sanzo stuttered, then swallowed thickly. "I'm just concerned. You look unhealthy. You're not taking care of yourself, either."

"Huh?" Gojyo's eyes widened, his arms crossed over his stomach, and Sanzo felt a wrench of unkind victory- had he struck a nerve?

"Your hair." He reached out and took hold of a strand of Gojyo's hair. "It took me some time to notice, but you haven't had a haircut in months."

"Oh." Gojyo seemed to notice as well, and took a strand between his two forefingers and measured it with his eyes. It was longer. "I could'a sworn I got a trim last week, but I guess my memory's getting fuzzy." He smirked slyly, and twirled a strand around his index finger. "I guess it grows fast 'cause I'm a pervert." He winked, and Sanzo inclined his head and lifted two insolent eyebrows. Gojyo stifled a laugh. "Right, I'll make Hakkai cut it after breakfast tomorrow. Is that all?"

"It's not just that. You're wearing baggy clothes, too. You haven't been working out, have you?" Sanzo folded his arms. "Are you losing weight again?"

Gojyo laughed- fucking laughed- and Sanzo wanted to spit on him, until he caught a glimpse of actual humor in it. "I'm fine, Kou, please." He tossed his hair back, arms out to the side in a broad shrug. "It's just cold. This winter's gonna be nasty as fuck, I'm getting chills already. Didn't think bustin' out my sweaters early would get your attention like that. Weren't you the one worryin' about me goin' around without a jacket once upon a time?" Sanzo flushed to realize he was right, and Gojyo rolled up one of his sleeves to show a well-muscled arm. "See? As good as it's been." He flexed his bicep, and Sanzo rolled his eyes. Gojyo smirked, and set his hands on his hips. "Now, how short you want me to go with the hair?"

"If you like it at this length, keep it." Gojyo felt his eyebrows raise at this, and Sanzo's head slumped down. "It... it reminds me of someone I knew." Gojyo let one eyebrow drop, and gestured a "go on" with a twirl of his hand. Sanzo's cheeks flamed red. "My master. He had very long hair. It's strange." Sanzo's eyes jumped between Gojyo and the floor. "You... sometimes, you do remind me of him. In small ways."

"He was the one who raised you, right?" Gojyo folded his arms again, a small smile forming on his lips. "Kinda makes him your father, right? I wish I could'a met him."

"Why?"

"Well, he raised you. He made you who you are, right?" Gojyo grinned, but Sanzo shook his head.

"The rest of my life has made me what I am. If I were more like him, my life would be infinitely easier." Sanzo turned on his heel. "Good night, Gojyo."

"Hey." Gojyo caught his wrist and pulled him back around and in for a chaste kiss across the lips. "Love you. Good night."

"You, too," Sanzo mumbled back, and Gojyo released him.

As Gojyo watched Sanzo wander his way back towards the temple, eyes turning up towards the clear sky every so often, he touched his hair again. He vaguely remembered something about hair and fingernails growing faster during pregnancy, and winced to see his fingernails were longer than he normally kept them. He remembered how, years ago, Hakkai had soaked his hands in warm water to soften the- he'd called it... carrot something? Keratin! That's the one- keratin and filed them down to perfect little rounds every few weeks. He wondered if it would be too much to ask him to do the same now, or if he should just figure out how to do it himself.

He'd leave the hair. Sanzo liked the hair. If he would come back to stroke and play with it, it was one more thing he could use to tie Sanzo back to him in some small way. He felt like those ties to bind were diminishing by the day, and he didn't like it.

His hand drifted to his breast pocket, where he still stowed an open pack of Hi-Lites out of habit. He hadn't touched them in months, but he wanted a cigarette more than anything right now. Cigarettes were easy. Cigarettes would give him an excuse to stand out on the street for a few more minutes, watching after a Sanzo who'd vanished over the horizon minutes ago. He didn't want to go back inside, but his body was heavier than ever. The baby still twisted and writhed against her enclosure, and her activities fed on his energy since she had none of her own. He knew shutting his eyes would only invite the nightmares back, but he was too tired to think straight.

What choice did he have?

Hakkai spotted the shake in Gojyo the next day, and the next. His wan smile and thinned lips were more pale than usual, his fingers quivered whenever he lifted his knife or scissors. He couldn't be bothered to make conversation with the few customers who did take notice of him, only managing a weary little smirk and an "excuse me" to dodge back into his work room. Gojyo wasn't meant to be this withdrawn, and it disturbed him. Worse was what Hakkai observed during lunch.

He'd made bento boxes for the entire family that day, as he'd sent Goku with the twins to the playground and set Ryuichi to work taking inventory of their supplies. He'd even made sure to give Gojyo a double dose of green beans and mandarin slices. They and Ryuichi made themselves comfortable around the counter to eat a few minutes after noon, and Ryuichi frowned when Gojyo opened his bento.

"Gojyo, are you on a diet?" He leaned closer, looking over the arrangement of a bean-grassy field with a mandarin sun set in rice with chicken clouds. Gojyo squinted at it.

"I'm, uh, not." He pinched his own cheek. "Do I look like I need a diet, kid?" He grinned, and picked out the rice and chicken first, devouring them with some zeal. Hakkai clucked his tongue, reminding him about "vitamins" and "malnutrition" without even speaking. Gojyo picked up one of the green beans, then squinted suspiciously at Hakkai. He put it down and shoved it away. "I ain't hungry."

"Gojyo, it's good for you," Hakkai warned gently. "Please eat."

"Fuck, I don't want it, okay?" Gojyo shoved the box towards Hakkai. He folded his arms as Hakkai moved to return it to him. "Look, I'll eat later. Just don't make me eat it now."

"Make you?" Hakkai cocked his head. It seemed an odd choice of words, but he wouldn't push it with Ryuichi around. He tried as best as he could to ignore Gojyo carefully picking around anything green, noting to try and convince him to take vitamins later.

Knowing Gojyo as well as he did, he could put it together: Gojyo's poor sleep schedule was adding to the stack of difficulties he'd been dealing with. He could find no safe herbal remedies that would suppress his nightmares, so alternative solutions would have to suffice.

"You should try to write your dreams down." He had caught Gojyo pouring himself a glass of water on his way to bed, and handed a small notebook to Gojyo as he said this, one just the right size to fit under his pillow. Gojyo looked, bewildered, between the notebook and Hakkai.

"Uh. Thanks." He tried to put the notebook in the pocket of his pajama pants, which were slung under his stretched middle, then tucked it under his arm. "You, uh, you're not gonna read it, right?"

"Not unless you ask me to. Would you mind if I did?" Gojyo's gaze fixed on his feet, but he nodded. "Then I won't."

"You think it'll help?"

"Think of it as exorcising demons." Hakkai clapped his upper arm. "If left inside of you, they can do more damage. If you let them out, perhaps you'll find a little peace." He let the mask slip to genuine, and Gojyo even felt his grasp change from encouraging to comforting. "You may even be able to laugh at them someday."

"I dunno about that." This got a weak laugh out of Gojyo, and he looked down to his feet. He could still see his toes around the bump hidden under his sweatshirt most of the day. "It doesn't matter, as long as she's okay."

"She won't be okay if you don't sleep enough. Go on." Hakkai released his arm and shooed him off. "Would you like some lavender tea first?"

"Nah, no hot drinks." He set one hand over his middle. "They make her restless. Y'know." He gave his stomach a shake. "More than she is now."

"She's restless too?" Hakkai frowned, and Gojyo rolled his eyes.

"She ain't stopped moving since she started moving. She's always- seriously, fucking always- kicking and rubbing up on my kidneys and bouncing around and doing the goddamn jitterbug." Gojyo gave his side a pinch. "She gets the fucking hiccups, too- swear to God." Hakkai giggled.

"May I?" He extended a hand, and Gojyo shrugged and set his shoulders back. Hakkai set his palm on Gojyo's other side. "Ah, and what is she doing?"

"I can just sort of feel her rocking side to side." Gojyo crossed his arms behind his back and looked away. "She don't stop, dude." Hakkai nodded to himself.

"Would a cool lavender tea be out of the question?"

"No thanks, man." He slicked his hair back, but his bangs fell right back into place over his eyes. "It don't work on me, I smell the stuff all day. Ain't like she's drinking it." His fingertips curved, and his fingernails bowed in towards the heart beating in his abdomen. "She could use it, damn it."

They parted ways after trading good-nights, Gojyo trundling up to his bedroom, Hakkai lingering in the kitchen to wait for his kettle to boil. Just because Gojyo refused tea didn't mean he didn't want some, and it would take him some time to consume the entire pot. It was a good enough excuse as any to sit and sip his tea, read from a novel, and listen to the noise from the upstairs. Gojyo had been blessed with a voice that carried when he didn't have the mind to control it.

He may have dozed off over his book once or twice, but when his patience paid off, it paid off in spades. Hearing Gojyo scream in the night was not a good reward, but it was indicative that something or other had come to pass in his bedroom, and doubtful anything positive. He so dearly wanted to know what had gone through Gojyo's mind that had alarmed him, but he wasn't sitting up for Gojyo's sake. Hakuryu raised his head from his cat castle, chirruping at a patter from the hall. Eiji meandered into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes.

"Uncle, why's Daddy shoutin'?"

"Come here." Hakkai scooted his chair back and opened his arms, and Eiji toddled to his side and hopped up into his lap. "Your father has bad dreams sometimes, like you do."

"I know. He told me a'fore." Eiji rubbed his eyes. "He gave me warm milk and medicine that made my head fuzzy, and told me they couldn't hurt me." Hakkai rubbed Eiji's back, as he hung his little head. "So, he knows it can't hurt him. Why's he screaming?"

"Things that frighten you can sometimes seem real. Sometimes, we forget that there is a line between dream and the waking world." He shifted his knees; Eiji's weight was nothing to him, but it was still more than he was used to from such a small body. "Your Daddy has been under a lot of pressure of late, and when your brain is being pushed, it lets little things like that slip." He gave Eiji a quick kiss on the cheek. "Would you like a bit of warm tea?"

"Uh-uh." Eiji's thumb landed in his mouth, but he chewed it for a moment, then looked up at Hakkai. "I just wanna go back to sleep."

Without another word, Hakkai enveloped Eiji in a tight embrace. He didn't sing, as he didn't especially like the sound of his own voice, but he could hum. Eiji was already limp and warm in his arms, and it didn't take much to have him snoozing in his arms. 'Easy up, easy down.' Gojyo would not, could not be so easy to soothe; he wouldn't fit in his lap, after all. He also had an inkling that he was at least part of the reason Gojyo was up.

In his bedroom, Gojyo rolled from his side to his back, and fished the journal out from under his pillow. There was a sliver of moonlight from his window, and his night vision had always been more than passable. He found a pen in the spine and flipped to the first page. He scribbled it down in shorthand, mind too fuzzy to calculate misspellings or grammar, but solid enough to get the idea across.

"Nightmare: 8 forces me to eat veg. til throat tears. Says he'll make it worse if I don't cooperate. Woke up screaming." He licked the tip of the pen, and added, "Third time with similar dream. Least it wasn't stomach bust this time. Threw up after that one."

"I'll laugh about this someday," he mumbled. "I'll fucking laugh." He shoved the notebook back into his pillowcase and rolled over. He wondered, briefly, how many demons a single man could hold.

Hakkai entered the kitchen the next morning with Hakuryu slung around his neck like a scarf, only to have to rush to get Gojyo's hands off the jar of coffee grounds. "I thought I told you this is too much caffeine." He glanced to the table- Ryuichi shoveling down oatmeal while frantically flipping through his history book, and the boys arguing over the comics page from the newspaper. "Your condition, Gojyo."

"I don't care right now." Gojyo opened the jar of grounds, and faced Hakkai with an eerie grin. "If I don't get some goddamn coffee, there's gonna be trouble." His head cocked, and his smile widened, like a cheery housewife with a platter of cookies rather than murder on his mind. "Okay?"

Hakkai had suddenly gained a new appreciation for why some found his constant smile creepy.

"One cup. No more." Hakkai watched Gojyo whip around to get the coffee press from the cabinet.

"Fuck you, Daddy needs smile juice or there's gonna be a lot of unhappy customers."

It was only after half of a pot that Hakkai could coax Gojyo down to black tea, but caffeine didn't take away a lack of sleep. It could only keep him alert, sip by sip, to try and prevent him from cutting his fingers or stumbling into the door. He was drowsy by dinnertime, and Hakkai could near see the red flag go up over Sanzo. He confronted Hakkai when Gojyo went for a toilet break in the middle of their poker game:

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Goku winced as Sanzo leaned across the table and grabbed Hakkai's sleeve. "He almost fell asleep into his sauce. If you even dare laugh-"

"Sanzo, you know very well he has nightmares." There was no point in lying. This amount of truth wouldn't jeopardize anything. Hakkai gingerly pulled his wrist away. "He's been worse lately."

"Worse?" Sanzo's hand drew into a fist. "He's kicked me out of his bed. He's sending me home earlier to ensure I'm not even in the house overnight. How is he getting worse?"

"You're not his only trigger, Sanzo." Hakkai lowered his eyes. "It's been windy lately, too, with the change of the seasons."

"There has to be some sort of professional for this. Someone who can sort his mind."

"There are doctors like that, rare though they may be," Hakkai conceded, "but would he accept being sent to any of them? Would he allow anyone access to his thoughts?"

Sanzo had no answer, and Gojyo re-entered the room, ending the conversation. Gojyo still pushed a heavily forced smile at Sanzo over the table, and played the worst several rounds of poker that any gambler could imagine.

Hakkai did ask about his dream diary after Sanzo left for the night, but Gojyo deftly evaded any prying: "Used it a bunch. It's, uh, helpful. Yeah." He rubbed the back of his head. "Can I just go to bed? I'm wastin' sleep time."

True to his word, Hakkai did not read Gojyo's journal. He did, however, slip up into his bedroom and peered at the outer edges of the pages. He could see black ink filling up the pages from the side, more and more by the day. As the first of November passed, it was nearly a quarter full, much more than a few sentences at a time should take in a meager few days. Gojyo's life was being dominated by his sleepless nights, and Hakkai felt it patently unfair. He finally came up with other solutions:

"I could drain your ki." It came to him like a bolt from the blue, and Gojyo frowned as he turned the tap off.

"Drain?"

"It's a theory, and something I haven't tried." Hakkai flushed and glanced out the kitchen window. Frost crept up the bottom of the window like a slug was dragging it up the wall, spreading in jags. "But in theory, if I can push my ki into you to speed your healing or seek out problems, I should be able to remove some of yours to decrease your energy. It might exhaust you to the point where you won't be able to have such lucid dreams."

"If you just wanna make me more sleepy, you're barking up the wrong tree." Gojyo groaned, then drained his water. "I'm pretty fucking sleepy already. I don't think taking more energy from me is going to help." He scratched his chin; his beard wasn't coming in as much, but there was still a little stubble. "Maybe you can give me ki to help me get through the day."

"I'm afraid it wouldn't help." Hakkai's shoulders sank. "Sleep is as much a psychological as a physiological need. Just giving you a bit of energy won't resolve your mind's need to recharge."

"Fuck." Gojyo rubbed the hollows under his eyes. As the days had turned into weeks, his eyes had become bloodshot and puffy, and Hakkai couldn't keep him off the coffee. "Medicine. You have to have something."

"Nothing you can use," Hakkai whispered, and Gojyo put a hand over his face.

"This can't go on, man. I'm pretty sure I'm just gonna keel over if I can't get some solid rest."

"Then please, go do so." Hakkai extended a hand to squeeze his arm. "Take whatever time you need. Business is bound to slow soon," he glanced indicatively to the icy window, "I can pick up the slack. You know I'm willing to work as hard as I must to support my growing family." His other hand touched Gojyo's midsection, and Gojyo drew back.

"I'm goin' to bed." He brusquely pushed past Hakkai to the stairwell, and Hakkai's hands hung in place before he registered that Gojyo was gone.

"Was it... something I said?"

Another week dragged by, with nothing changing, nothing shifting. Hakkai was trapped between a rock and a hard place, pushing in one direction while being pushed from another. Gojyo slogged on through a haze of insomnia and nightmares. Sanzo demanded Hakkai do something, anything to fix him.

"I can't watch this," Sanzo growled into Hakkai's ear over one of Gojyo's (increasingly frequent) bathroom excursions. He'd stumbled off after dropping his hand, and Sanzo had watched as he'd stared at the card faces in bewilderment, as if he'd forgotten what they'd meant, and then had to ask what game they were playing. "Drug him. I don't care what you have to do!" Goku's jaw had fallen open to protest, but Hakkai quickly countered,

"I will not drug him." He put his hands on the table. "He is our friend. If we can't talk to him straight on about this, then there is something very wrong."

"He won't talk to me! He deflects everything!"

"Sanzo," Goku extended a hand to pat his back. "It's scary for you, but-"

"Fuck off!" Sanzo batted Goku's hand away like a cobweb, and Hakkai winced. He could sympathize with Sanzo, nearly empathize. Sanzo'd had to watch Gojyo struggle with his demons from a distance, with only scant moments of privacy between the two to talk. Both Goku and Hakkai knew it would only frustrate and humiliate Sanzo if the two of them were to back off, that he would close himself off when the door was opened, so neither offered. Even on nights Goku dropped the boys off from school and returned to the temple, citing "I kinda need to meditate sometimes, or the Goddess starts tugging my leash," Sanzo and Gojyo only had a few moments together without Hakkai, and what few questions Sanzo could think to or make himself ask were dismissed with a sagging smile. His extended hand was pushed aside every time, and he was now returning the same.

"Be patient. You know what he's going through!" Goku stuffed his arms impatiently into his elbows, feet tapdancing without rhythm beneath him. "Just ask him-"

"You act as if I don't try!" He threw his cards down now, and Gojyo shuffled back in as he jumped to his feet. His eyebrows skyrocketed as Sanzo swept for the door in the usual flutter of robes that preceded his flight from the home.

"Kou, what's-"

"I'm tired." Sanzo bit the words off like heads. "I worked all day, I have too much to do tomorrow, I'm tired, and I'm going to bed. My bed." Gojyo followed him to the door, as Sanzo pulled his boots on at the front door. He could feel something like paint flaking away off his heart in chunks at those words, but thicker, taking meat with it.

"Babe, you gotta tell me if something is up."

"You're one to fucking talk," Sanzo hissed, and Gojyo flinched, fingers bent in and hands folding just below his neck. Sanzo either didn't notice or didn't know what to do about it, but he flung the door wide.

"Don't run off mad."

"I told you; I'm tired."

"Tired of me." Gojyo's arms folded in around himself.

"Tired of watching you in misery with you doing nothing about it." Sanzo whipped around and grabbed him by both elbows. "That silent suffering shit pisses me off. I don't deal in self-sacrifice. Fix yourself, let me fix you, or don't make me fuck with it!"

"I'm not making you do anything," Gojyo growled back, and broke Sanzo's grip with both arms thrown out. "Fine. Go. I'm going to bed early." He stepped back and refolded his arms, and only barely winced when Sanzo slammed the door behind him. Goku and Hakkai had watched the exchange from the steps, and Gojyo knew. He wasn't upset; instead, he slowly lifted his eyes to meet Hakkai's. "Give me something. Anything. I don't care what it is. Make me stay asleep."

Hakkai rummaged in his medicine cabinet with both Gojyo and Goku watching over his shoulder. Not to anyone's surprise, he was well-stocked on medicine in little paper parcels and glass bottles for cough and cold, flu and nausea, aches and pains. Gojyo could see they were mostly full; Hakkai probably rarely used them, as he could use his qigong to ease the family's symptoms and Gojyo never noticed him getting sick, but he was certainly the type to remain prepared. After a minute of searching, he found a brown bottle. "I keep this on hand for those sorts of nights; you know." He reticently offered it to Gojyo. "I don't use it unless I must. These kinds of things are habit-forming." Goku's lower lip wiggled, but Gojyo ignored him and reached for the bottle. Hakkai turned the bottle over, showing Gojyo the list of ingredients and side effects. There was a warning in large script: 'DO NOT TAKE IF YOU HAVE ASTHMA, CHRONIC PULMONARY DISEASE, IF YOU ARE PREGNANT OR BREASTFEEDING...'

Gojyo poured two pills into his hand. "This'll put me to sleep and make me stay asleep."

"It's always worked for me," Hakkai confirmed. "I shut my eyes and can't open them for eight hours."

"See you in eight hours." Gojyo gulped the pills down dry, and clapped Goku's shoulder. "Calling it a night early, bud. Good night."

"Gojyo?" Goku moved to stop him. "Don't make this an all-the-time thing."

"I ain't plannin' on it, kid, but look at me." He squeezed Goku's arm, and Goku looked up into his swollen, bloodshot eyes. "I need rest. Sanzo'll kill me if I don't start sleeping."

"I know, it's good for... good for you." Goku swallowed. "But the medicine's not. Plus, what if you have nightmares you can't wake up from?"

"I guess I ain't ever been much of an exorcist; I think I'll have better luck fighting my demons than just trying to get 'em out." He smirked, a shadow of his bravado in the hollows of his eyes, and released Goku. "'Night, monkey."

"'Night, kappa," Goku grumbled, and Gojyo's shoulders hung low as he shuffled back up the stairs. Goku glanced back to Hakkai, who wore a matching heavy expression. "You wanna talk?"

"I don't know how much I can say." Hakkai released a sigh that he'd clearly been holding back. "I can't make him better from this, but he seems to want it as much as I want to give it to him."

"You want me to go?"

"I... no." Hakkai smiled, a natural one, the one he reserved only for his friends. "Why don't you and I have some tea and play some two-man games?"

"That actually sounds awesome." Goku beamed, and Hakkai unlocked the door to his bedroom and to the private world that he had kept within. He couldn't allow Goku full access- no, he didn't allow anyone full access- but it was nice to have visitors. Strange; even with his best friend just up the stairs, it felt as if it had been a very, very long time since he'd had someone truly close to him.

Gojyo, upstairs, curled up on top of the thick scarlet duvet that made his bed so, so inviting, settled on his side into the pillow-like mattress. For the first time in nearly a month, Kana had slightly calmed, her motions slowed as if through water. Gojyo, too, felt like he was looking out at the world through a bubble, and the ink of night was closing in around his eyelids. He meant to peel off his sweater and socks, but just licked the last of the toothpaste off his lips and pulled his knees in. In just a second, he promised himself, I'll get ready for bed and sleep right. This is going to be a good sleep. Just one more second right here, then off with the overclothes, under the covers, and-

Gojyo's eyes shut and sealed, and he dropped down into sleep, a penny down a well. He didn't hit water, only the same things that awaited him whenever he sank into the unconscious deep.

(Suggested Track: "My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark," by Fall Out Boy.)

A falling sensation, in more ways than one. His body, collapsing down into the black hole that had opened beneath him. The shield of his clothing, stripped off. He was exposed to the wind that barreled around him in a tumultuous whorl. He could feel everything that he'd held in all day like winged blades that soared around him to cut flesh and rend skin and bone. The wind moaned, the void below opened to swallow him, and Gojyo in freefall had no defense against it. He opened his arms to the dark below, and-

"Open." Gojyo's eyes opened, and his hands were immobile. His legs, too. Hakkai sat on his chest, straddling him, cool palms pressed into his collarbone. He smiled, eyes gaunt and haunted, face bright, and lifted a handful of pills from beside him. "Open. You need."

"Hakkai," Gojyo groaned groggily, and tried to twist himself free. Vines enclosed his limbs. Shit, of course he'd use them like this. Hakkai's fingers pushed between his lips, depositing a horse pill between them.

"Swallow. You need nourishment." Gojyo held the pill under his tongue, but Hakkai had more. "Eat. Eat." He kept pushing the pills into his lips, and Gojyo had to swallow. Rocks sat inside him instead, and he could feel them stretch his esophagus. Hakkai maintained his soulless smile, even as Gojyo's eyes crinkled at the edges. With his mouth filled, he couldn't beg him to stop, he couldn't beg mercy, but with panic rising in him, he felt the muffled scream tear up through him as the skin in his chest ruptured. "Oh, dear." Hakkai clicked his tongue, and swiped up some of the blood that spurted from the craggy skin. "No matter. It'll fix. You can be fixed." His tongue traveled up his finger; blood and tar stained his lips as he looked back down at Gojyo. "You can be replaced. All that matters..." His hand drifted down to Gojyo's middle, still too small, still underfed. Gojyo's chest tore wider, the rocks inside him starting to tear muscle and cut into bone. Gojyo cried out again, but Hakkai forced more into him. "Is this really all you can take? Pathetic." He smile never wavered. "You're as good as anyone I know at holding things in. Don't tell me you can't take this."

No, Hakkai, no. I can't. I don't want to. I hate this. Gojyo slammed his eyes shut again, shut out the smell of his own blood, and screamed. If I scream, I'll wake up! If I scream, I can't stay asleep! But though he could faintly hear himself shouting through the black nothing that enveloped him, it was as though from a distance, one that he couldn't travel. He wasn't waking. He couldn't!

And he opened his eyes, wrists and ankles still bound, but now on his knees. He tried to lift his feet, but clanking chains sat around him now, pinned into paving stone. A massive CRACK, like a bone shattered, and he raised his head to see his home. His home, and fire consuming it. A blast of heat rushed over him, and he cried out to see the flame that soared up from the rooftop to the sky. The shingles splintered, as if struck by concussive force, red slate split by the immense heat. The windows shattered, the glass catching the red light as it shot out in a million directions, hellish stars against an obsidian sky. The wind howled, and it echoed through his broken home, the legions of the damned cried out at him from the windows and walls-

Then, other voices.

"DADDY!" One of the children- he couldn't tell when they were so loud, so frantic- and he saw a small hand wave at him from the second story.

"Yohei! Eiji!" He hurtled forward, but was tugged back by the manacles on him. "BOYS!" The small hands- four now- waved at him over the cracked sills. The fire caught on them, their clothes as delicate as moths' wings and so, oh so flammable. Their screams echoed in his ears and escalated in pitch and volume. His head rung as if struck. Then, the fire caught flesh. Gojyo could smell meat and hair, and he screamed out again as their tiny limbs were taken by the flame. He yelled their names, over and over, he struggled at the chains that bound him to the ground.

"You are the only weight holding you down," a sly, greasy voice hissed into his ear, and Gojyo whipped his head around to see Lord Akio at his side. He wore no smile, his black clothes as much a part of the darkness as the man. "You know why this happened. You were warned." He gestured at the flames. "From the top down, as promised. Was it worth it?"

A small body launched itself halfway out the window, a frail little arm of blackened skin that sloughed off like wax, a skull ablaze, a wretched cry echoing from its shapeless mouth. Gojyo cried right back out, and Akio's fingernails latched in on his shoulder. "Don't be so distraught; probably only his last leftover breath." Blood dripped from the indents, soaking in on a shirt that was already sopping with sweat. "Call it a mercy. At this distance, you couldn't hear his death rattle. All that's left is number three." A whisper of black linen rustled at his ear, and Akio was crouching by his side. "Do you want to know how I'm going to kill her?"

And Gojyo was screaming again, to shout himself awake. He thrashed harder, the chains rattled and clanked around him until they were gone, and Gojyo fell onto his face. He drew breath and shouted it out, over and over, until his lungs were sore and he could no longer feel his lungs. He also no longer felt the flames, and raised his head again.

Hakkai's bedroom. Dark. The cream walls and ivy wainscoting was stained crimson by the light from outside, but the man himself was cast in shadow on his loveseat. He held a tiny bundle wrapped in a pink towel in his arms, and there was something on the bed that too large to be an unnecessary pillow. Gojyo didn't know what it was, but he saw ribs exposed and arms and legs prone as if reaching out for help. His quilt didn't need the scarlet light to be red, redder than-

"So much blood, my darling, but you're here." Hakkai was crying and smiling at once, and he rubbed his nose and cheeks down into the swaddling. "You were worth everything. Such a beautiful creature." He kissed it, and Gojyo didn't need to wonder what was left on Hakkai's bed when the smell of rotting meat hit him. He wanted to vomit, but he couldn't; he just tasted it. Hakkai, though, was enraptured with his little pink present. "You will be good for your Papa, won't you? Papa will love you forever and ever, just like your namesake." He slipped the top of the towel away, and Gojyo saw ice-white bone and-

Hakkai, on his feet, a woman's skeleton dressed only in strips of putrid muscle greener than his eyes loosely dancing in his arms. He whispered her name- his daughter, his sister, his lover- and clutched her tight. Gojyo could see his tongue between her teeth. His head tilted into her skull, he pressed her hips to his, then rolled his groin into her thigh, and-

Gojyo tugged his hair, he closed his eyes. "ENOUGH! ENOUGH! ISN'T IT FUCKING ENOUGH?!"

"Is it?"

Sanzo!

Gojyo was on his feet, and turned to find Sanzo behind him, brilliant and bright against a black sky. He took a tottering step towards him, but fell to his knees onto hard black stone. His legs were weak, and his body so heavy. He tried to stand, but found himself instead anchored in the grooves of the stone. His belly was heavy, and Kana still danced inside of him. Sanzo floated towards him, an even glare on his face. Gojyo held his hand up. Sanzo saved him when he needed it. Sanzo was his hope, his light, his sun. Even now-! Even now-!

Sanzo wound his elbow back, and his fist collided with Gojyo's cheek. Sanzo had hit him before- the first months of their relationship had been cruel- but always with an open palm. Gojyo had never taken a full punch from him before. Not until now.

"You lied to me. All those times you begged me to believe you, and you lied!" Sanzo's fists shook with rage, and Gojyo hung his head.

"Kou, please," he moaned, and his breath hitched against the lump in his throat. His voice was barely audible, but he had to make himself heard. "Y'don't understand-"

"What's not to understand?" Sanzo lifted his knee into Gojyo's chin and knocked him flat to his back. Gojyo's skull rattled when it hit, dizziness rolled around his temples. "You asked me a question, I denied you, and you defied me!"

"It was too late! I can't fucking kill a kid. Not mine, nobody's. Sanzo-"

"Ha." Gojyo realized what he'd said- it was a slip! He'd called him that for years, he still called him that to others, and when lucid, he could consciously call him pet names- and Sanzo narrowed his eyes down at him. "We're lovers, but you call me by my title. You begged and pleaded not to, and here you are. Exposed for what you are, and begging a High Priest for mercy. You know?" He fell over Gojyo in a rush of white, the cold metal of his bracer rings icy on his shoulders and strong hands pinning him to the ground. "I'm inclined to give it to you."

Sanzo kissed him, biting at his tongue and crushing his lips. All pain, no passion. His weight pressed heavy against Gojyo's middle, and Gojyo could hear a voice crying out.

"Daddy, please, make him stop!"

"I'll make you honest," Sanzo growled into his ear, and rolled his groin into Gojyo's thigh. "I'll fuck you honest. Isn't that what you wanted?"

And Gojyo realized that this was no act of mercy. Sanzo wouldn't penetrate. He would pierce.

"Daddy, please!"

And Gojyo tried to scream again, but the rock crumbled under him and he was falling into the black. He was in freefall again, and closed himself into the smallest parcel of man that he could be, knees to chest, head down, arms in. Was there nowhere he could go, nothing he could go to that wouldn't hurt him? He wanted to fall forever, he wanted to never wake up, to never face the reality that he had made for himself, but-

A voice like cool water, one Gojyo had never heard before. "That's quite enough of that, isn't it?" And slim, warm hands took hold of him by his shoulders...

(Suggested Track: "No Light No Light," Florence and the Machine)

It was a new void, but a clear one. Blue night skies and a shameless full moon above, green grass below and tangled in his splayed fingers and under his sprawled back. It wasn't a place Gojyo recognized, one he wasn't sure existed anywhere at all. He sat up to take stock, but the only distinct thing was a wide-boughed pine tree, and a shadow beneath it. A plume of smoke billowed from the top of the shadow, and as Gojyo rolled up to his feet, a smoke ring. "Ah. Can you hear me?" That same voice, running down his ears, washing through his mind. The shadow moved and emerged into the moonlight, and Gojyo frowned- Sanzo? No, but dressed like him. The immaculate white robe, the sutra around the neck, a shakra, the black turtleneck, even the black bracers and the gold rings that held them in place. The smile was very un-Sanzo-like. The hair, too, and the face. He had a fox-like face, though not so sly, and a kindly, fatherly smile, but the wrinkles under and around his eyes indicated age. His paling blonde hair was long, woven neatly into a braid, but for chin-length bangs cut evenly and combed neatly. That was what made it click.

"You're the Sanzo before Genjo, right? His master?"

"Ah, you're sharper than Kouryuu gives you credit for!" He beamed, and tapped out the last of the tobacco from his long pipe. The ash vanished into the long grass. "Koumyou. You've met four Sanzos, we wouldn't want to confuse things." Gojyo studied Koumyou again. He seemed tall, perhaps a little taller than Sanzo, but just as lean. His eyes traveled over him again; something seemed very wrong. Koumyou seemed to notice he was being examined, and he closed in and offered the pipe to Gojyo. "It's a dream, you know."

"What?"

"It's okay if you smoke, since it's only a dream." He grinned, and for a moment, Gojyo could see Goku in him. That same stupid grin- it's a dream. How do I know what someone I've never met looks like?

That's what was wrong. He couldn't possibly know what Koumyou Sanzo looked like. He couldn't even know if he was seeing the right man, but it certainly felt right. "This isn't a dream. It's a vision, ain't it?"

Koumyou laughed aloud, airily, carelessly. "Call it what you will. It's nicer than where you were before, isn't it?"

"Guess so." Gojyo's shoulders slumped, and Koumyou's hand sat on his upper arm again.

"Would you like to sit?" His other hand brushed against Gojyo's side. "The little one is restless, yes?" For some reason, his touch was welcome.

Gojyo sank down to a crosslegged sit in the grass, and Koumyou knelt at his side. He refilled his pipe, lit it, and offered it to Gojyo. Gojyo shook his head. "It'll just make me want it when I wake up." Koumyou shrugged, and took a drag. He blew it out slowly into a rough, swirling dragon shape, and grinned with glee.

"Dead nearly two decades, and I've still got it!" He took another drag, and exhaled it evenly. Gojyo actually chuckled at this.

"Man, if I'm dreaming you right, I have no idea how Sa- Kouryuu ended up like he did."

"Oh, I think he ended up enough like me. He was always an intensely serious boy, but I did what I could." Koumyou giggled, and tapped some of the ash out. Gojyo watched him again, unsure of what else to say.

"So, uh, how do you know me?" Gojyo scratched his head. "No offense, but I don't know why you're here."

"Ah!" Koumyou snapped to attention. "That's right. Ah, you see, it is given to those of us who have left this world to watch over those who choose to live. And my goodness, do you live!" He laughed that airy laugh again. "You are of interest to me, since you are entwined with someone I called beloved."

"Shit." Gojyo hissed under his breath. "How much trouble am I in for that?"

"Eh?"

"For sleeping with your kid." Gojyo drew his knees up to his chest. "He's a priest, and all. You made him a priest." Koumyou giggled.

"Ah, well, I'm not one to talk, you know. I pushed a life onto him that he never asked for, and he made the best of it. Then, he made the choice that was best for him. I think you are a good choice for him, and really, he was a good choice for you." He giggled into his palm. "I mean, Kouryuu- rather, Genjo Sanzo does have the cutest little butt."

"Yeah- hey!" Gojyo's jaw fell, and Koumyou laughed hard.

"Ah, I'm teasing! But you've committed no crime." Koumyou turned his head to face him. "So, I'm a little curious as to why you're punishing yourself."

"Huh?"

"Your nightmares. Nightmares are self-inflicted, you see." Koumyou searched himself, found a little satchel of tobacco in one of his sleeves and tapped some into the pipe, then flopped onto his back into the grass. Gojyo snorted.

"You think I want this shit?"

"Not actively, no." Koumyou waved the glowing end of his pipe towards the sky. Gojyo glanced up, and saw his own silhouette against the moon. "But nightmares are the things we don't let go of, our shallow fears and anxieties, sometimes the deeper ones. But this?" The shadows shifted, and Gojyo saw his own nightmares play out against it like shadow puppets. "This is guilt." Hakkai, forcing nourishment. "Guilt for not nurturing the child you carry." His house ablaze, while he sat helpless. "Guilt for not being able to protect the ones you love." Kana taken from his body and dead in Hakkai's arms. "Guilt for giving your child away, for considering doing so, guilt for not keeping her in your heart." Sanzo raging down at him. "Guilt for deceiving the one you love." Gojyo fell onto his back as well, grateful the ground had give enough to cradle him. Koumyou looked over at him. "So, from everything I've seen, your preferred vices are alcohol, tobacco, gaming, and swearing. Self-loathing was always there, but never so prominent. You shouldn't make it so now."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Oh, me? I don't know." Koumyou dragged on his pipe and blew a few rings. "I'm mostly talking to myself, anyway."

"Like hell!" Gojyo groaned and stomped his feet. "I know what you're getting at. You want me to tell the truth."

"Ah, did I say that?"

"You-" Gojyo groaned. "You don't have to! Fuck, I can't tell if you're brilliant or brain-dead."

"Ahaha. I get that sometimes." Koumyou beamed. "So, is the truth more frightening than your reality?"

Gojyo had to consider it, then sighed with all the force of the ambient breeze. "How can I tell him the truth now?"

"You open your mouth and start making words. Preferably the ones that reflect exactly what you think and feel."

"Ass- he'll fucking kill me. For real."

"He'd never kill you." Koumyou giggled. "He didn't like jail very much, and it is still a crime to kill a hanyou."

"He'd be pissed as hell."

"Even he can't stay mad forever. I've seen him try." Koumyou giggled again, eyes tipping skyward as if he could see his little Kouryuu pouting at him from the stars. "He gave up after about three hours."

"You'll be proud to know he's gotten better at it," Gojyo griped, and buried his face in his folded arms. "Plus, Lord Akio-"

"Oh, that tosser?" Koumyou tapped his chin. "You know if Genjo sees him lay a finger on you, the man will defecate his own teeth before the day is out. Were I there, I'd probably ensure the same." Gojyo turned to him, agape. He shouldn't have been so shocked; he'd met unorthodox Sanzos before. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd met a regular Sanzo. But Koumyou shrugged one shoulder. "He simply needs to know it's happening."

"He won't believe me." Gojyo scrubbed his face with his palms. "You're just dragging me in the same circles I've been walking in."

"Ah, I'm not sure about that." Koumyou smiled and wagged one finger. "Circles are nice, perfectly round, but they take you to the same place. I think you're in a spiral." He traced a downward path in circles. "So perhaps you can step out, try something new. If you don't try it, then how will you know what would happen?"

"I don't-" Gojyo swallowed. "I don't, okay? But I have a pretty damn good idea."

"You're a daring man from what I've seen." Koumyou emptied his pipe again, and rolled over towards Gojyo. He sprawled, propping his chin on his palm and crossing one leg over the other, and Gojyo thought it might have been seductive if he weren't such a goofy old man, but he could only assign "coy" to this tableau. "You would run off on your own to face a man who killed a child you just met. You stood for the man who abandoned your party, and risked your life to save his when you were beyond obligation. You faced an evil greater than you and all your companions combined, and came out victorious. You left this city a brash and bold man, and returned a proven hero. What frights you so much now? It's only little Kouryuu."

"Having kids changes shit, man," Gojyo moaned into his palms. The empty sky seemed to swallow his voice. "I kinda wonder sometimes too. I'm brave enough to face death, but not enough to face the man I love more than anything in the world."

"The devil you know and the devil you don't."

"Eh?"

"You find the dark less frightening than the light." Koumyou tucked his pipe away. "You've faced the darkness, but you never learned to conquer the light." He reached out and slicked back one of Gojyo's stray bangs. "It's alright to be afraid. But you must conquer your fears. And you're right." Koumyou's smile shone in earnest now. "Having children does change you, in small ways. I've had a little hand touch my heart in the same way that yours has been touched." His hand extended to intently rub Gojyo's midsection. "It's a special delight, isn't it? I envy that you can give life to your own, not that I would ever trade my Kouryuu. Shouldn't that make this all the more special for you? Better motivation?" Gojyo pinned his hand to the ground, but Koumyou slipped right out of his grasp as if he'd never touched him, and he smiled wearily. "I don't think I've helped you."

"Nope." Gojyo gripped his fingers against his hair and crossed one knee over the other, as tense as he'd ever been, and Koumyou laughed again.

"Well, I suppose it's just as well. I'm not very good at helping others. Is there anything I can do to help?" His hands crept towards him like mice through the grass.

"I dunno." Gojyo shrugged. "'Less you can just make me feel better-"

"I can do that." And before Gojyo could say another word, Koumyou's arms were around him, his chest to Gojyo's back. Gojyo scrambled to escape, but he could almost hear Koumyou smiling over his shoulder. "Long before he was Genjo Sanzo, Kouryuu would want me to hold him when he had nightmares."

"You're just mocking me!" He squirmed again, but Koumyou's hands lowered and landed over his heart.

"I've never laughed at you, Gojyo." For a split second, Gojyo could hear a woman's voice within Koumyou's, and his eyes widened.

This is a vision. That rotten hag...

"What's the message?" Gojyo didn't resist Koumyou's hold. "I'm not that good at symbols and signs and shit. What the hell does that bitch want me to get out of this?"

"Hm? I don't know about things like that." Koumyou enveloped him tighter. "All I know is that you are my child's lover, so you are my child as well, and I know when one of my children needs comfort." He hummed a soft tone in his throat, and Gojyo couldn't keep his body from relaxing against him. He forced himself to stay lucid, stay conscious.

"What do you want from me?" Koumyou didn't answer, but he hummed a few more soft notes. His voice was comfortingly deep, and familiar in many ways. His eyes started to slip shut, and Koumyou continued softly:

"It's not my place to tell you what to do. You already know."

And Gojyo's eyes fell shut. Rested against the grass, with a familiar warm body draped against his back. Swallowed first by the moon, then the peaceful dark of dreamless rest. He could forget his troubles here. He could forget that he wasn't the only one dreaming.

Her voice was beautiful, in many ways; she sang like a violin played, like velvet to his ears. It was a voice he didn't recognize, but it hit the sinew in his heart and echoed in the empty chambers. He didn't know the tune, and there were no words. There didn't need to be. All he knew was that he wanted to find the source and sing along.

And all he could see was paper. Her voice drifted to him as if from underwater, through a mountain of manila files and stapled booklets. He looked around him, wondering when the walls of his office had become so thick, when the windows had been obscured. Papers, books, reports, the mundane tasks that had to fill his days, that had to keep him alone. By himself. Away. He jumped from his desk and started to push things aside, seeking to uncover what he knew had been hidden.

"Your brick and mortar," a woman's voice whispered as he took up a stack of paper. "You always find a way to build your walls, don't you?" He whipped around to search the room for its source; he knew that voice. His fist drew in of its own accord.

"What do you want, hag?" His upper lip curled, and he spun in place. He couldn't smell flowers, he couldn't see any holy shadows, and she wasn't answering him. He couldn't understand why she still taunted him, but he tossed papers aside to excavate his way to light, real light.

Every word on every page was meaningless, form without function, nothing more than scribbles in crayon. The more black ink flew past him, the less sense it made. Some of it was no more than clearing fog, vanishing into the air, flying off the page like birds against a sunset. He didn't care why it was there, if he'd written it, if it was required or expected of him, if it was something he needed, because fuck it, he didn't need it. He needed that voice.

And he found it.

Beyond the wall of papers and books, beyond the wall he'd built to keep himself in and everything else out, there was shimmering sea and sun. Nothing but a broad field and a wide river, wider than any he'd ever seen, one that would very much need a ferryman. He knew this river, knew some who had made the irreversible voyage. He crawled over the craggy remains of the life he never wanted to approach the tiny passenger. White flowers wilted in his wake- clover? Chrysanthemum?- but he drew near to her. She was much smaller than he expected, but with a voice so soft and small, he should have guessed. Her hair was long and unkempt, silvery gold like the sun reflected off the water, and tangled in thin whorls as it passed her waist. It swayed with her, her thin shoulders bobbing to the tune. Her bare little feet were pigeontoed, and tapped to the melody of her tune. She didn't turn to face him, didn't stop singing until he came very near and he could see the shift she wore.

He'd seen it before. This was the garb of one either no longer with this world, or not in it yet. Sanzo knew of no young girls who had died, but why would he see-

"It's too late." Her arms swung to clasp behind her back. She'd stopped dancing, too, now as still as a doll. "At least, I'm pretty sure. Nothing's ever set in stone, but-"

"Too late for what?" He reached out for her, but she drifted forward and out of his grasp with a single step. He scowled- fast reflexes, for someone not looking. She spread her arms open, and sidestepped his question with the same effortless grace..

"It's beautiful here, by the river. The sun feels so nice and warm, Papa. Isn't it wonderful?"

'Papa.' Sanzo's heart stopped cold.

"Look at me." He grabbed her shoulder.

"I can't." She shrugged him off again. "I'm sorry, Papa. I wish I knew what to tell you."

"You're standing at the River Sanzu and the damned hag is making me talk to you, you must have something to say!"

"The... hag?" Her inquisitive tone spoke to quirked lips, even if Sanzo couldn't see her face, and her head cocked to one side. She lifted a hand to her face. "No, I wanted to meet you. Will you stay with me, just for a little while?"

Sanzo's instinct was to give her what she wanted. It sounded so precious little. "Not here." He crouched down. "Come on. I'll take you somewhere better."

"I'm not ready to go yet. Won't you sit with me?" She tottered unsteadily, arms still spread wide like leaves on a heliotrope. "The sun is so nice and warm here. Or..." She started to turn, but Sanzo suddenly saw only a shadow against the moon. "Are you my sun?"

His jaw fell. He didn't know what to tell her. Against the spotlight of the moon, he could only see her face twitch as her lips twitched up into a tiny smile.

"You must be. For the first time, I truly feel warm." She folded her arms behind her back. "Don't you know? Flowers can't grow in the dark."

He reached for her again, but she was further away than she looked, and he only touched air. "Come with me. If I am your sun, then take my hand and-" His voice broke. "Just come!"

"I'm sorry. I can't leave, and I suppose you shouldn't stay. Yes. You must go." She brushed both hands out, her head cocked to the side again. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

And Sanzo woke. He took stock quickly- his inbox, overflowing with reports and papers for the next day, but no more so than usual. The windows were dark, but he could see the light from the lanterns that lined the path in the distance. Goku was sprawled out asleep on his pallet, snoring loudly, but it was not so loud as the pounding of his own heart in his ears.

She called me 'Papa.' She called me her sun. Why? It must be- it must be-

He rolled up to his feet and haphazardly tossed his robe on, barely bothering to fasten it, then shoved his sandals on. He didn't care about the stupid curfew. He needed to talk to Gojyo- he had forgotten something.

A future I could have. Something that may not happen.

"Gojyo."

He stole out into the night, snatching breaths between shadows. Nobody else was out on the path, and he scuffed his footprints out of the sand as he went; none would catch him this time. He bounded down the stairs two at a time, and though his heart jumped in his throat and his mind was blurry from lack of sleep, he pushed it all down and away and let himself flood the street with his own intensity. No policeman nor the hand of the gods themselves would halt him. If he had a heart attack, that's just how little he was worth.

He pounded on the door for the third time in the months since he'd realized he could lose Gojyo. If this was his only path in, so be it. He didn't care if it was undignified or if it exposed him raw, if he was nothing but skin and bone under the heartless sky. He banged and banged and banged, cursing Gojyo for never giving him a key, for not letting him in, until the wood began to bounce against the metal doorjamb. The door opened wide after a few solid minutes of knocking, and Hakkai stepped aside to let Sanzo in.

"Were you seen?" He asked in a rush, and Sanzo shook his head.

"I've forgotten something. I need to talk to Gojyo. Is he asleep, or-"

"Miraculously, he's asleep." Hakkai sighed, and led Sanzo up to the apartment. "He took your words to heart, it seems; he's medicated himself."

"Damn it all! You let him drink?! He said he was going to stop!" Sanzo pushed past Hakkai and rushed to Gojyo's bedroom. Hakkai followed, shushing Sanzo all the way.

"Sleeping medicine! Please, be quiet- the children-" He winced at each pounding footstep as Sanzo thundered up the second flight of stairs.

"Sleeping medicine- fuck!" Sure enough, even slamming the door open didn't rouse him. Sanzo's hands dropped to his sides, as useless as the rest of him felt at the moment. "I need to talk to him."

"It's no use." Hakkai tried to pull Sanzo back by his shoulder, and rested his head near his ears. "It's strong medicine. He won't wake until morning." Hakkai smoothed a hand over his chin as Sanzo stared at Gojyo's recumbent form. "The house could catch fire and he'd immolate before opening his eyes."

"How could you-"

"It's what he wanted, Sanzo. He'll wake in the morning." A moan rumbled up from the bed to interrupt them, and both of them turned to frown at the lump under the sheets. Sanzo ground his molars together, as if he could chew irritation.

"He's still having nightmares." His glare could crack diamonds, but Hakkai hardly reacted.

"There's no medicine for an overworked mind." He shook his head slowly, and it ached Sanzo. He didn't want things, but he wanted, so badly, to give Gojyo some peace. Was that desire really such a crime?

"It doesn't matter. Leave. I'll deal with this." He waved loosely at the bed. Hakkai murmured a nervous goodnight, and Sanzo shut the bedroom door behind him. Alone, he unlocked his knees and elbows, and staggered to the side of the bed. "That damned hag. Se wanted me to remember to say I..." He swallowed- no, he couldn't say it, not now. "Se... wanted me to remember your birthday too." He approached the bed as if it were a coffin rather than their shared comfort, as if Gojyo wouldn't, couldn't ever wake and smile and open his hands to stroke his hair then pull him in for a kiss. "It's today now, isn't it? I didn't get you anything." He lowered his head to the bedside. He never knew what to give Gojyo- he didn't give gifts, but he knew Gojyo liked receiving them- and so he'd only given him the one photo album years ago. He'd meant to give him something, anything, to show his affection, to bring out that warming smile, but he'd failed. "All I have is myself."

That was all he'd ever had. Even when Gojyo had wormed his way through the walls he'd built, that was all that had ever been there. He knew that, that insignificant bit of man that lay under his clothes and airs and psychological breaks, was never enough for someone like Gojyo. But it was all he had to offer. It would have to be enough.

Is this enough for the future we could have? Will it ever be enough?

He crawled into bed alongside Gojyo, and pressed his knees into the backs of Gojyo's and wrapped an arm over his chest. He could feel Gojyo's heartbeat through the sweater he'd fallen asleep in, twitching erratically onto his palm. Even though Gojyo had asked him not to, he knew now that it hadn't made a difference. Whatever had disturbed Gojyo enough to shoo him from his bed hadn't had the good graces to follow him out, and he thought that Gojyo found his presence a comfort. As expected, Gojyo's heartbeat slowed when his weight settled against his back and chest.

His voice was thick with sleep, but husky and intense. "Kou..." Sanzo could hear the smile, and he shivered; just being in contact with his cold, rough skin and calloused soul could bring that inviting tone out of the beautiful man with whom he'd fallen so deeply in. He was so grateful that Gojyo could take an inch and get a mile, because he believed he truly had so little he could give.

He buried his nose in Gojyo's hair and stroked his chest. His heart still jolted and shuddered under Sanzo's palm, but it was enough to feel that Gojyo was there, alive, and so warm to touch. He didn't want to be alone. He didn't think Gojyo did either. Still, he couldn't say the words, only feel them and try to convey them with his hands over Gojyo's heart.

I can make the nightmares go away, my love. I know there's a future for us. I'll be patient. Just give me a chance.

End Notes: Glad we all made it through that, right? In more ways than one. Ah, I still think it's kind of funny that grass (and lemon grass and other grasses), in floriography, is representative of homosexual love. Pine for comfort, aster for love and/or fidelity, irises for hope and faith, white poppies... who knew flowers could be this much fun?

The next few chapters are a little shorter, but important. Next time, well, they have to wake up sometime, right? Find out what happens then, and don't forget to review!