King Rat: Our Kingdom
Author Notes: This is probably one of the chapters I like the most of those I put out recently. I only hope the perspective switching isn't too hard to keep straight. This chapter's focus is on Sanzo, and I always love focusing on Sanzo. Back when I was a surly teenager who didn't want to be touched or talk to anybody, he was my favorite of the Sanzo party. He's tied for second now, but I still love the grouchy jerk. So, even as I've developed his character, I've tried to give him as much love as I can. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.
51: Leaves and Thorns
Gojyo settled on the bench next to Sanzo, a bag of caramel popcorn on his knee, as a rush of clouds shaded the soccer field from the early November sun. The activity on the field didn't halt despite the chill that blew in, as the junior soccer league warmed up, practicing their dribbles and shoots back and forth. A shrill whistle sounded somewhere, drowned out by the wind. Sanzo edged over to make room for Gojyo, though he didn't look up from the loose-leaf paper on his knees, and Gojyo squinted over at it. "What'cha got there?"
"Some work I've neglected. Correspondence I've made no time to respond to."
"Mm." Gojyo ran his eyes over it, but couldn't read the writing. "Well, that's fine, just put it away when the game starts." He settled down to munch his popcorn, spreading his legs just a bit. "And would you close your jacket?"
"Only if you do." Sanzo drew a pen from inside his robe, and Gojyo scoffed and tried to pull his jacket around him, as if to show that he couldn't. Someone next to Gojyo grumbled about 'you're takin' up too much room, fatass,' and as Gojyo struck up an argument, Sanzo licked the nib of his pen and began:
My apologies in taking so long in responding. I wrote the header two months ago, but constant delays and other business has stayed my hand. I do hope your address has not changed, though considering I have been to that city, it may not be undesirable for you to have moved on. I recognize that my last letter was rather curt, and apologize for that as well. These past eight months have been a whirlwind. Even the past month, while more relaxed than usual, have been busy, as when I am not kept busy with work, I have been at soccer game after soccer game as my wards' team has made the regional finals. Yohei has nearly clinched the 'Most Valuable Player' title for the league, and I am most proud of him.
I'm not even certain where to begin with this letter. To borrow a phrase, the good lord only gives us as much as one can carry. I suppose I should inform you that we are planning on bringing another ward under our roof again. Sadly, that brought another delay to my writing...
Sanzo gazed out at the field, and Gojyo nudged his side with his elbow. "What're you smilin' for?"
"Thinking." Sanzo folded his papers over and rested his palm between his hip and Gojyo's, and Gojyo chuckled. Sanzo rubbed his knuckles against Gojyo's backside, and Gojyo chuckled.
"Just close your jacket. I can still hear you wheezing." He pulled Sanzo's jacket up around his neck. Sanzo's cheeks were warm, which might not have satisfied Gojyo after the week he'd had.
I suppose I should mention that the past eight months have changed me. I'm not certain it is necessarily for the better, but
How to explain?
Perhaps an example. Just this past week...
I wake every morning to the sound of Gojyo snoring. He snores. I don't think he did before, but he does now. It doesn't annoy me. The sound of his breathing soothes me. He has to sleep on his side now, as the weight on his back is too much, but that just means he faces me when I open my eyes. There is nothing better than to open my eyes to his face, like a rose at my window.
He's got a good face. It's a face that used to be an annoyance to me, but now I don't know where my life would be without it. He's been grumbling about how his cheeks are swollen lately, how he feels ugly and heavy all over, but if there is any change, it's nothing I've noticed. That same strong jaw that only looks comfortable in a smile, the arc of his nose, the way his eyes are set. I have never wondered why women gathered around him. It's not why I came to his side, no, that's much more shallow, but I'm not so stupid that I can't appreciate a good face. I almost feel selfish keeping this sight to myself, but really, fuck the lot of them. This is mine alone. To see him here means he's kept, he's mine, and that I don't have to share him with anybody. Even if he doesn't look like he's worth taking from me right now, to see him here means that nobody has, and nobody will.
That's not to say I don't appreciate his body. Yes, even like this. He still has fine muscles, he's built to perfect standards. He's just got a bit more in the middle. It's not so much that he can't mostly disguise it, but it's significant. His shop apron tents off of him, and he only wears it when he's staying out of sight in the workroom. Otherwise, he buries himself under thick sweatshirts and baggy pants so that he just looks thicker all over. The toned, tight form underneath is, again, something that is only mine now.
I don't mind that his body has changed. I still get to enjoy it, in the lewdest sense one can enjoy a body. Not as much as when we were trying to conceive, down to twice a week from twice a day. I could never complain about it; in fact, I think the scarcity makes it all the sweeter. It's gotten difficult for him to move like he used to, and the positions are more limited. He can't sit on my lap anymore, and being on his back or on top for too long is stressful on his hips and spine. Even hands-and-knees is difficult for him to hold for more than ten minutes. We're starting to find it's easiest for him to lay on his side and for me to cup around him on my side. Nonexistent leverage and a very limited range of motion, kind of shitty but mercy on his back. Every second is still wonderful. He feels so good around me, and the moans of sheer pleasure he gives speak to his higher sensitivity. I appreciate how much he wants to be intimate with me. No matter how much he changes, I will not cease to love everything about him.
It's rather embarrassing to think so, but it's true, and I'm not a liar.
Others have noticed that he's changed. He tells me his friend- Mrs. Li, or Nuo to him- has started to tease him about putting on weight in the fall: too many hot pots, she's sure. I heard him laugh it off and promise to diet, that he'll live lean when money gets tight. Yeah, I don't give a shit. He'll drop about three and a half kilograms this spring if all goes well, and I don't care if he keeps the rest. I don't care what he looks like. He was so gaunt in the spring... I'm satisfied at the health he's showing. He thinks his face is puffy. I think he looks fine. Besides, for all it has changed, his body is not just his right now.
"Good morning, little one." I keep my voice low, hoping that the child can hear me, and not his or her father. It's Sunday, so we can sleep in a little, and since he grapples with constant exhaustion every day, he deserves all the sleep he can get. He tangles himself in the sheets most nights, twisting restlessly. It even wakes me up. It's completely unfair to him. For now, though, the room is still dim. I can't see, but I'm sure it's well clouded over outside, and without the morning sickness to wake him anymore, he's still soundly asleep. He seems quite gone from the waking world, as he didn't even stir at my voice, so I can rest a hand at the swell just over his hip. "Are you awake just yet?"
Nothing. No movement. Of course not. Why today, of all days, would he or she choose to wake? It's not as if Gojyo has quietly fretted every night of the past six weeks, begging the baby sitting inside him to give him some sign of life. He doesn't even want me to know how much he's worried, even though I've insisted that he tell me such things. I have had to eavesdrop as he's gone to Hakkai in the night and pleaded with him to check and be sure, just be sure, that he or she is truly alive inside of him. It's his right to do so, and Hakkai is his best friend, and Hakkai has always confirmed that yes, there is life there, growing more every week. Just no movement.
"It's alright, you know." Hakkai's words keep coming back. "Sometimes, the baby doesn't move until twenty-two weeks or longer. It's rare, but it happens. There is absolutely nothing wrong with your baby. In all honesty, it's likely she wakes and moves while you're asleep, and you just don't wake up and feel it."
It makes perfect sense- he's tired when he wakes up, he's tired all day. Even so, he pushes himself to tend to the boys, still playing soccer and working out with them or teaching all three young men weapon combat basics, and even to give me attention and affection, and when he finally lets himself close his eyes, he's out like a rock. A rolling stone, rather. He still tosses, legs twitching, restless even at ease. I can't believe I used to think him lazy. He's only lazy when he doesn't care. If the baby does only wake up while he's asleep, I wouldn't want him or her to wake him up.
It only distresses me to know that he frets over this so much. He shouldn't have to. Unrealistic? I don't care. I know that there's zero possibility that we can move through life without any trouble. He may have once done so, but that life is but a speck on his horizon. Even so, he should be allowed to enjoy this part of his life. He deserves that. He deserves a lot of things.
He rolls over, and my hand slides off to drop to the mat behind him. I lift it and run my fingers through his hair. It's long, more so than ever, and I part it slowly and start to work out the tangles for him. One less thing for him to do when he does wake up. It's smooth and slick like snakeskin between my fingers, so it's not as if I don't enjoy touching his hair. (Cursed red or no, it's soft and beautiful.) I hear a pleased hum through his dreams as I work my way up. I catch a glint of silver at his neck, and I feel a smile come to my face. He's still wearing the pendant. Small things like that bring such strange warmth to my face and chest. Even without thinking, he can...
Shit. It's his birthday soon, and I haven't done anything. He cares for our family, he carries my child, he gives me good cheer and affection for its own sake. I have nothing to offer him in return. He's never asked me for birthday presents, but that's what normal people do for each other. He gives the children fantastic presents every year- this year, for example, we ordered them custom soccer jerseys with their names on them, oversized so they'll last a few years, and the boys were overjoyed and threw themselves at us and thanked us over and over, and Yohei hardly takes his off anymore- but it's always his idea, I just go along with it and take half the credit. I had this problem last year, though- all I could think of were things Goku said men do for their girlfriends. Flowers, chocolate, jewelry. Gojyo's not a girlfriend, nor a girl. He has flowers. He doesn't like sweets (or he didn't this time last year.) I thought a token would suffice, a small weight he could carry so he could feel my love on his chest even when I was away. He wears it all the time now. I can see it hanging just inside his shirt when he leans over his desk, and he plays with it sometimes when he gets distracted. It worked, eventually. I can't repeat it. I need something different. Better.
I have thought so for months and have come up with nothing.
There's a tremor at the window, a spatter of rain. Gojyo mutters beside me, and I kick back the quilt (and tuck him back in, of course) to take a look. There's a light drizzle coming down, making the dirt lot that is the ruined backyard look even more glum and depressing than it already...
… Hm. The earth will be wet and easy to work, and they could use a better training ground. It's not a big yard, as there's another house on the street behind this one, but if I check the deed and the easements...
I place one last kiss on Gojyo's cheek and go to begin the day...
"Hm." Gojyo saw Sanzo chewing the end of his pen.
"Still workin' on that letter?" Sanzo glanced over at the query, and noticed that Gojyo had a fresh bucket of popcorn and two cups of tea. He nodded, and Gojyo graced him with a warm grin and put one of the cups beside his knee. "How 'bout you wait until halftime? Looks like they're gettin' ready to start."
Sanzo held a grumble in his throat, but folded the letter up and put it away. "I'm going to have to edit down everything I just wrote." He heard Gojyo snort into his cup, smelled cinnamon coming off of the steam, and turned back to face the field.
The white lines drawn on the ground just made him think...
It was a simple enough task to get the time I needed: "The boys need new winter clothes. They've outgrown everything." Gojyo moans, but I give him a stern look. "Yohei's pants are up around his ankles. He must have shot up five centimeters in the last year. It's getting cold already-"
"Right, right, fine." He folds his arms around himself just thinking about the cold, and I notice his fingers trace his contour. "Guess I could use some bigger stuff too, and I can look at some of the second-hand furniture they got while we're there."
"For what?"
He sets his hands on his hips and raises an eyebrow, as if the answer were staring me in the face, and- oh. That's what he means. "What happened to the stuff we had for the b..." Oh. His eyes dip down to the floor and dance circles around my feet.
"It's gone. I got rid of it. Same with all my bigger clothes from last year. I chucked it all." He rubs one hand with the other, and I touch his chin to draw him out of that black place in his memory. I had never thought about it before, but I honestly wouldn't blame him if he'd set it all ablaze in the yard in a drunken rampage, or even rock-sober. The thought of him staring at flames consuming Kana's crib, fire licking the sky as if those red fingers of hell could call her back...
Shit. I feel like trash for not thinking about it sooner. He must feel like trash thinking about it again.
"Don't bother with furniture. I'll take care of that. Get a catalog from one of the furniture stores in town. We can pick things out together later." That brings his eyes up, revives his smile, and he kisses my cheek.
"Okay, yeah." The grin he puts on says so much more than words do, and with that, he's rounded up the boys, gotten Hakkai, and is heading for the door when he stops and looks in on me at my desk. "You coming?"
"Not today. I'd like to take care of some of my backlog here." He looks disappointed, but I click my tongue. "You should have some time with just you and them. You don't need me over your shoulder all day."
"If you're sure. I love you." He comes close and kisses me right next to my ear, and warmth is in my cheeks and chest again. He, Hakkai, and the boys call farewells, and with one last reminder for him to zip his jacket, and the boys' jackets too, I am alone.
Good.
It's still drizzling, dreary and gray and miserable, but not enough that I'll sacrifice the time I have. One trip out to the local garden store gives me everything I need and a wheelbarrow to cart it out in, and I set to work. The dirt in the yard is still littered with chunks of splintering, rotting wood, and what little grass is left is wilted, straggly and mustard-yellow. I take shovel in hand and dig to turn all the dirt over.
I would have never considered myself handy, nor geared for physical labor. Hell, I'm sweating and panting after half an hour, and shivering when my robes soak through so badly that I eventually just take them off. But this is something I have to do for myself, even when it would be just as easy to convince Hakkai to do it. It takes me two hours to bring the yard to a blank slate of brown, packed dirt. A large child's sandbox kit takes the center- and how the hell they can justify charging so much for four blocks of wood and eight nails is beyond me, but who am I to complain?- and I pack the sand in, then surround the box with little pebbles. I can't build a fence myself, since any fence I would build would be nothing but boards driven unevenly into the dirt, but I hired a company to come out and build a good one, and once they do, I can put the rest of the rocks down. I stop and survey my work, and review the rest.
"The fence builders will come in two days, and they're supposed to deliver the bench, too." I find sweat soaking my brow and slick it off, only to discover my hand is clammy. I look at it, and realize it's shaking. More than likely, the only thing keeping it from blistering are the bracers that wrap my palms, and I can still see calluses on my fingers in places other than the ones from gripping my gun during practice. I can treat them later. "I'm forgetting..." I feel a spell of dizziness and shake it off, but it comes to me, and I remember the two enormous terracotta pots in the wheelbarrow, perfect for a small tree or a rosebush.
It wouldn't be Gojyo's if there weren't flowers.
The pots are heavier than they look, but as I try to lift the first and fail, I hear "Whoa, there!" from the front door, and Gojyo and Hakkai are outside with me. "Kou, what the hell are you-"
"My goodness, look at this!" Hakkai take the pot from both of us easily and sets it on the ground, and I feel sweat prick my eyelashes and a rush of inexplicable jealousy. Hakkai whirls around to me with a smile that I'm pretty sure is real. "Why, Sanzo, did you do all this?"
"Who the fuck else would?" My back is sore, my legs are worse, and I lean back against the wall in and try to keep looking cool. "It's not done, but I guess I couldn't have hidden it for long." Gojyo is staring at me, and presses his hand to my forehead. I can hardly hear myself think over the noise of the boys shouting about the yard and the blood rushing in my ears, but I can see Gojyo smiling like sunshine. It's a few days early, but now's a good a time as any. "I fixed the yard. It's a perfect training ground now. Happy birthday."
"You sure did fix the yard. Thank you." He slicks my sopping hair back, and I feel warm, so warm. "This was a real nice surprise, but you shouldn't be out here without a jacket in this weather. You're ice cold."
I start to complain, but he ushers me inside, the same as he would do if he caught one of the boys playing in the snow without mittens. Still, he's glowing with pride even as he puts a bowl of powder-made chicken broth in my hands and chides me about 'you gotta be more careful,' and I can tell he really is thankful for what I've done. The supplies weren't terribly expensive, but I think he's happiest that I put effort into it, that I did it myself, just for him.
The boys were infants when Hakkai brought home an old stroller and told me to put it together, and I objected because that was not the sort of thing I did. He told me I would want to do things like that for my children, for my family, and shit if he wasn't right. I wanted to make them all happy, and I remain convinced that there is often, if not always, so little I can do. If something like this can make him so happy...
Why isn't there more?
I woke the next morning, not to our alarm, but to a rush of heat. Not the good kind. I kick the blankets off and find that I'm already shivering, and every breath I take shudders all the way in and out. Oh, fuck.
Getting out of bed is nearly impossible, but I force the issue and stagger on legs as limp as noodles to find the thermometer in our bathroom. I hardly have to look at the results, as I can hardly keep the thermometer in my mouth without coughing, and a look in the mirror tells the tale- my cheeks are as red as roses, eyes wet and glassy, and my fever high. I know it's a myth that being out in the cold gives you a cold, but Hakkai always gives me crap about how it weakens the immune system so anything going around can get to you easier, not to mention the constant reminder that children are Petri dishes and they need to wash their hands and I need to wash my hands and- damn it, I can't be sick!
I look back in on Gojyo. Still slumbering, peacefully, blissfully unaware that he was sleeping next to a contaminant. I very clearly remember the week last year where he was too sick to write his letter to me. Part of me still wonders what effect that had on...
Anything that happens to Gojyo happens to the child. If he becomes ill- if I get him ill- then our child will catch the same illness from sharing his blood. I will not be responsible for sickening the both of them.
I still have enough strength to walk and think. I should use it while I can. I dress, I leave a note on the table: "Way behind on work. Will be at the temple all day. Emergency contact only. Yours."
He might be disappointed, even upset, but if I don't stay away, I have no way of knowing what will happen. Without a single regret, I toss my scarf over my face and venture out into the morning chill, books and papers pressed to my chest, disheveled more and more with every wheeze.
The other monks don't pay me much mind when I put my things down in my office, and while I'm sure the color in my cheeks has garnered some attention, none of them have the balls to say anything to me about it. I do make an effort to come back for a few hours every day, maybe every other day, to observe the acolytes' training or just to focus closely on my work. It's not as if I'm a stranger. They might expect me to come and meander around the yard during training, or to lead a bit myself, but not today. Today, I sit at my desk, put my pile down, and collapse. I'm so exhausted already, and I wish I could lay down until the liquid in my head stops swishing around. Yeah, I'm miserable. All the more reason for me to stay as far away from the rest of the family as possible. They don't deserve this same misery. After all, they already live with me every day, I've no right to make that worse.
I make a token effort to read the papers and draft notes for responses, but the words are swimming on the page. I have to stop for coughing fits every few minutes, as if I need any more delays. Every breath I draw is difficult. My head becomes heavier by the second, and I must have fallen asleep, because at one moment I'm reviewing proposed budget guidelines, and the next, the high noon sun is warm on my face and there are footsteps at my door.
"Hey, Lord Sanzo, I got your mail." I recognize the voice giving that reluctant, petulant greeting, and wonder who the hell let that little shit become a full-on mailman. Ryuichi barges in shoulder first, red hair pinned back under a blue cap, his uniform neat, with a stack of letters in his hands. "Sorry to bust in, but my bro asked me to see if you were coming home for din..." He trails off and the natural motions crawl to a stop as he gets a good, hard look at me. "Holy shit, you look like hell."
"I'm fine." As if to prove exactly how fine I am, I stand to take the mail from him. I have no idea when he got permission to be taller than me, but it's an annoyance, and I'm sure that he's holding the mail just out of my reach, because I can't seem to take it. "Give me..." Suddenly, he's high above me, until he drops to his knees.
Shit. I've collapsed, right in front of him, and he's screaming for help. "Hey! Someone!" He pats my cheek a few times. "You're burning up!" He yanks my shoulder, nearly taking the arm right out of the socket- thanks, you little ass- and hoists me onto his back. "Don't take this the wrong way." He sighs. "You need to get back in bed, and Gojyo'd hate me if I left you here. Why the hell would you even leave the house like this?!"
Why indeed. I knew there was a backblow to hiding Gojyo's little secret from the boy. "Just leave me here. I can't get the twins sick."
"Oh for fuck's- bullshit! Gojyo'll kill you if you don't take care of yourself! They can just keep away from you!" Some of the other monks are on their way, and someone takes my other arm and shoulder. Ryuichi is explaining as they fuss and touch my forehead, and everything gets kind of blurry for what feels like a long time.
I next open my eyes to long red hair drifting over my eyes. "Put me down, you rotten little bastard."
Gojyo's melodious chuckle reaches me like he's at the top of the well and I'm at the bottom: "Is that all you got to say after that rotten little bastard got you home and in bed where you belong?" I want to be so very happy to feel his uneven fingernails brush my scalp, followed by a cool compress to my forehead, but I catch a glimpse of the swell that makes his white tank top look like a snowball to my bleary eyes, and panic sets in. That is my child, that is the man I love, and I am a goddamned walking pestilence. Except- I try my legs- well, at least I'm not walking anymore.
"Go..." Coughs wrack me, and he's already holding a tissue over my mouth.
"Yeah, I'm here." He smiles, and that melting feeling inside me is hot, angry magma, not my heart aching for his affection.
Go away! Go away, go away, go away!
"Looks like runnin' round in the rain all yesterday got you a bit of that cold going around. You stupid sack of shit." He chuckles affectionately, hands set on his hips, still beaming down at me. "Listen, I got a little more work to do." He tosses the tissue, then pulls the covers up tight around me. "Hakkai put some medicine under your tongue while you were out, that ought'a kick in soon." He kisses my forehead, and I try not to moan at his touch. "You stay here in bed and sleep. I'll bring you up some noodle soup in a little while. Hakkai's making it. Scratch. It'll be good." He pats my chest, then points at a few landmarks around me. "Tissues're right here, there's some tea with honey and lemon in it right there, and Hakuryu's gonna hang out, and he'll come an' get me if you need anything." I lift my head just enough to see the little white dragon perched on the sill. He chirps at me, and while focusing on him, I can hardly see the dark blur of Gojyo trudging towards the door, gait staggered by the weight at his hips. He gives me one last sweet smile as I focus on him again. "Stay in bed, or the dragon'll end you." The stern note in his tone contrasts with his adoring expression. Hakuryu chirps again to confirm his words, and he shuts the door as gently as one might put down hollow glass.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Brought back to spread the disease by that well-meaning little idiot, fussed over as expected by the big idiot, and I can't even leave without risking a roasting. Not to mention that I feel like overcooked ramen- limp, soggy, and useless. I'm not going anywhere like this.
Something the boy said comes back to me- "They can just keep away from you." I don't have any better plan. "Hakuryu." I cough, but there is a light weight on my chest and the dragon is looking down into my eyes. "One chirp yes, two chirps-" Hakuryu sighs, slitted nostrils flaring wide. Right. He's not some stupid animal, he knows the score. "Are the children home yet?" He shakes his head. "When they get home, can you..." I stop to cough, and he takes wing and hovers gently over my chest, until I can finish, "Please, send Eiji in?" He bobs his head, then departs for the sill again. I sit up enough to drink down the tea, cough and spit up something unspeakable, then lay back down.
Red hair again when I wake up next, but this time in a cropped cut and very close to my face. Eiji's sitting right next to the bed, glasses and eyes visible over the edge, his little nose in the comforter, and I reach out, take his head, and push him back. "Ow, Pop, don't shove. Mr. Dragon pulled me all the way up here by my ear, so I guess he wants me here for a reason."
"Thank you, Mr. Dragon." I cover my mouth and face away. "Eiji, you and your brother need to help me. I need to keep your father from catching this. Until I get better, you and he need to stay away, and you need to keep him away."
"So, wait, why-"
"You're a hanyou, so you have some resistance, but humans are more vulner- humans get sick easier. But it's only resistance, not immunity. If he's all over me, he's going to get sick, and your little brother or sister in his belly is more human than youkai." Fucking hell, I'm babbling, and he's staring at me as if I was singing prayers backwards in Hindi. "Eiji, babies, even the ones inside their mothers, aren't strong enough to fight off colds. It's very dangerous." That makes his little eyes go wide, and he scrambles to his feet.
"Okay. What do I have to do?"
"That's the fun part." This isn't especially kind of me, but through the fever in my brain, it seems like a very good idea. "You and your brother have my permission to do anything and everything you want to keep him chasing you instead of in here with me. Jump on the sofa. Play soccer in the house. Practice your martial arts moves on each other, just try not to break anything. Anything you can think of."
His owl-like eyes are as big as his glasses now. "But... Dad'll be real mad. We're gonna be in so much trouble if we do all that."
"Yes. You may get in trouble. Hell. You will get in trouble. But you will not get in trouble with me. I'll..." Shit, a reward, a reward... "If you can keep him away from me, I'll take both of you to the martial arts master at the temple. If he thinks you're ready for real training, and if you want to learn as a bona fide student, I'll start taking you to afternoon practices with the monks once a week."
That big, sharp intake of breath indicates that I have hit his personal jackpot. "Don't worry, Pop, I'll keep Dad far away as much as I can!" He scrambles out, and I can hear him whispering the plan to Yohei outside the door.
This is an evil thing to do to Gojyo, but it's all I can do. It might hurt, but it's for his protection.
I sleep again for a little while, and I wake up when the door opens. "Hey darlin', got ya some fresh tea and medicine." I hear the mug hit the table, and open my eyes to see him hanging over me, his pendant twinkling in my view, his eyes shining through the haze. Even with the water in my eyes making my vision blurry, he looks so beautiful from down here. He takes the compress from my forehead and puts a fresh one on. "Let me get the thermometer. Your fever's feeling a little-" As if on cue, there's a huge crash from below, and Gojyo groans. "What're those- hang on, I'll be back." He hustles out, and half a minute later, I can hear him shouting:
"What the hell?! The cat castle ain't a goddamn goal post, you could've broken the fucking window! What were you thinking?! You two are not this stupid!" The reaming continues until the door shuts, and Hakkai is there with a bowl of soup.
"My, my, it seems that when the cat's sick in bed, the mice will play soccer in the den." His smile takes on a menacing glimmer as he puts a pillow behind my head to prop me up. Oh, he has me figured out? Screw you, haven't you ever heard of the greater good? I can replace a window. I can't replace Gojyo, nor his precious, priceless cargo.
Hakkai takes my temperature as I avoid eye contact. "It seems your fever's dipped below 40. You should be near normal by tomorrow or the day after. Are you feeling any better?" I start to answer, but a fierce cough interrupts me, and he clicks his tongue. "That answers that."
"I might be able to get out of bed tomorrow," I offer, as suggesting the contrary would make me feel entirely worthless. I'm starting to feel the strength come back to my legs. I might not be lying. He just giggles.
"What you can do and what you will do are two very different things." He puts the soup in my lap. "Gojyo will come check on you shortly."
"I'd rather you do it."
"Oh?"
Running my goddamn mouth without thinking, now he's raising his eyebrows at me like he doesn't know what I mean. I sniff and fold my arms, trying to make the very picture of demanding while not jostling the soup balanced on my legs. "He soaks me with the cold compress, and he shoves and prods. You actually know what you're doing."
"Ahaha. That's kind of you to say. But I believe he's insistent on taking care of you." He giggles again, and my ears get as hot as the rest of me. "I'll tell him to be gentler on you."
"Don't you dare-" He shuts the door, and I swear that fucking dragon is laughing at me into his wing.
No matter. The boys' stunt kept Gojyo away for at least a few minutes- a six minute time-out, two minutes of Gojyo working a genuine apology out of them for what they did and what they'll do better next time- and since Hakkai's checked on me, he just might leave me alone to sleep again.
Either Hakkai or Gojyo left me a newspaper and a few books, and by some providence, I'm awake long enough to eat the udon and read a few headlines before drowsing again. I wake again not to Gojyo's warm, kind hand on my face, but another round of scolding, this one from outside and loud enough to go through the window and probably all the neighbors' walls.
"What the actual fuck?! Yohei, why in the goddamn world would you think this is okay?! Start digging your brother out of the sandbox right fucking now, or I will run you up a flagpole by your scrawny little neck!" I hear laughter in two different pitches, and really, if I wouldn't normally be livid about this, I'd be impressed. Gojyo would probably feel the same, were he not trying to upturn the buried treasure in our backyard.
Gojyo gripes at the twins audibly for a good long while he bathes Eiji, and it continues from there. I hold a chuckle every time one of them escalates- "How many shit-eating time-outs do you need?!" I even hear a, "Will you two act right for ten minutes so I can check on your Pop?" and thirty seconds later, there's another round of shouting when, based on what I can hear, Yohei's popped one of the springs on the couch. It seems to be going well, until I do hear glass break, but that time, I don't hear shouting.
Hakkai only told me about it later. Yohei was "helping" put dishes away by tossing dried plates to Eiji, and when Gojyo panicked and rushed in to stop them, the entire stack crashed to the ground. Gojyo stared at the mess for a solid minute, angry past the point of shouting. Both twins slumped at the horror etched into his face, as they felt the building tension like a crack spreading through a vital support column, until even the slightest scratch could send the walls crashing down around them. Finally, Gojyo let himself drop into a chair and rubbed his hands over his eyes.
"Okay, guys, what'd I do?" He didn't even sound angry. He sounded broken. He looked it, too, slouched, curled around himself, with one hand on his face and the other on his middle. This was it. He was going to crumble into a million grains of red and tan sand. "Are you thinkin' your Pop'll just get out of bed and scold you, and then everything'll be better? Did I say something? I mean, was the soccer thing just, y'know, you bein' you, and now you're getting back at me for cussin' at'cha? Please, just tell me why you're doin' this stuff. I'm just too tired to keep getting angry at you, and I'm startin' to get scared I'm not going to be able to handle all three of you."
That was enough to put Eiji in tears, and though Yohei didn't cry openly, Hakkai was sure he was holding it back when he ran in and hugged Gojyo tight. Eiji did the same, both begging forgiveness. I don't know all the details- I was still in bed, listening for some sign of what had happened, until Gojyo came in again, wearing a paper mask over his mouth and nose.
"You rotten fucking prick, you bribed our kids to be assholes." The insults do not come with the familiar affection, and my limp muscles coalesce enough to tense up.
"I was worried."
"And you don't just tell me?!"
"I... I know you." I find myself clutching the sheets. "You would brush it off, because you can handle it, and besides, you're hanyou, you'll think you have higher immunity to human diseases, but-"
"I don't care about all that! You're my... you're mine, and I love you, and I wanna take care of you!" He folds his arms around himself like leaves around a rose, he looks despondent, and I wish there were a way I could hold him and comfort him without touching him. "You're always takin' care of me, bringin' home snacks and keepin' an eye out for me and sayin' sweet shit when I feel bad, and you make me feel safe, and I wanna do that for you, but you... you do this!"
"I was concerned about the baby, Gojyo. If you got sick again, like you did last year-"
"Then fucking say that! Shit, I was just so worried when Ryuichi dragged you back in here running a fever at 41, sweating like you were in a goddamn sauna when it's cold as balls out, I didn't even think about it!" He snaps the mask tighter to his face. "We got all this shit cleared up, now you shut your fucking mouth and let me nurse you back to health, goddammit!"
He freshens my tea and takes my temperature again, donning a scowl that would make even some of the senior monks blush, but when his hand moves in for my forehead... I expect an impact, actions made rough by rage, but his palm touches down so gently, so softly... His touch holds the same love it always does. Now comes the guilt, because he very clearly wanted to do this for me. I had no right to deny him that. He takes the thermometer from my mouth, and sighs through the mask.
"Thirty-eight-point-five. 'Kai said you were just over thirty-nine two hours ago. Seems like this'll be gone real soon." He sits down on the edge of the bed, and his forehead drops. "Damn. Here I thought I'd get to play nursemaid for ya for at least a few days. Guess you're okay with that, though."
"Gojyo." I take his hand in mine- it feels so warm- and squeeze. "You realize that you take care of me, just as much as I do you."
"That ain't true." He sighs and his back collapses to form a mountain around himself. "What the hell do I do?"
"You have made me feel human after I spent more than a decade feeling like stone." I run my thumb over his knuckles, hoping it'll tickle him so I can see a smile on his cheeks. Come on, you bastard, smile so I know I'm not a total sack of shit. "You love me when I am clearly unworthy of it."
"You so are, and it's fucking sick that you don't think so."
"Gojyo, I owe you and our unborn child a duty-"
"I know! And that's what's so goddamn frustrating!" Shit, he's crying. Not what I wanted at all. Exact fucking opposite. He jerks his hand out of mine and starts smearing at his eyes. "I know you wanna love me and protect the baby, and I yelled at you 'cause of it, and I was so ungrateful, but I was so damn angry at how you did it, and..." He breaks into a babble, but I realize that I'm close enough to hug him.
Hell, my fever's gone down anyway. He shuts his yap when I wrap my arms around him. "I'm not upset. You're right to be angry with me. Wouldn't even blame you if you decided you didn't want to take care of me anymore. Just... please."
"And you got sick doin' a nice thing for me," he sniffles onto my shoulder. "I'm an idiot."
"No more so than usual." I squeeze tighter, like I could just press everything that's upsetting him away. I know this reaction is just because he's exhausted and emotionally wrought. Besides that, he's still enjoying those delightful mood swings that keep him punching the walls some days. This time, though, he has reason to be this upset. I have to do something. "I can get out of bed if you want to take the rest of the night off your feet." He hasn't lifted his head- fuck, it's not working. "I'll sleep on the sofa-"
"You're gonna stay in this bed and drink your tea. The boys are going to bed early so I can put my feet up and take a long soak in the tub. And nobody's sleeping on the sofa." Gojyo pulled back from me, and smiles under the flimsy mask as the tears dry on his cheeks. "Hakkai said he'll give me some medicine that should keep me from catching anything from you. Besides, you've probably been carryin' this around for days before it hit. If I haven't got it by now, I'm not gonna get it."
I'm not sure if the fire in my cheeks is from the fever or the embarrassment, but I'm glad the former is covering for the latter. "Fine, then. Don't stay up too late."
I held him all that night, awake after sleeping away most of the day. I still don't feel our child moving, but I feel Gojyo's heartbeat and breathing. At least like this, I feel I can keep him safe. That's all I ask for, all I can do. I want to be the leaves that wrap around the rose, as much as the thorns that make them so dangerous to touch, so he can flourish and bloom unimpeded. And yet, I come back to the same problem as I always do.
He is so strong, he hardly needs my support. What is there for me to do?
Moreover, why do I think this way? Why am I so driven to keep him- them, all of them- safe?
It's a change. I can almost see my reflection in the line I've formed against his back, and it's someone I hardly recognize. I'm not frightened of it, though. I'm...
… I'm afraid I just don't know how to feel about it.
Sanzo read over what he'd written, then scratched it all out and scribbled down a more appropriate last page, as Hakkai read the first few pages. The boys were whooping it up over their team trophies, and Gojyo was celebrating with them. Hakkai had joined in at first, but had quickly taken interest in Sanzo's enthusiastic editing process. "My, so much black ink."
"Hm." Sanzo sniffed. He frowned at the pages Hakkai handed back.
"My apologies in taking so long in responding. I wrote the header two months ago, but constant delays and other business has stayed my hand. I do hope your address has not changed, though considering I have been to that city, it may not be undesirable for you to have moved on. I recognize that my last letter was rather curt, and apologize for that as well. These past eight months have been a whirlwind. Even the past month, while more relaxed than usual, have been busy, as when I am not kept busy with work, I have been at soccer game after soccer game as my wards' team has made the regional finals. Yohei has nearly clinched the 'Most Valuable Player' title for the league, and I am most proud of him.
I'm not even certain where to begin with this letter. To borrow a phrase, the good lord only gives us as much as one can carry. We have had many difficulties since last winter, but we've been putting things back together. Our group was split by an unfortunate incident. Invasive elements poisoned the well, so to speak, but we've come back together and are learning more and more how to act as a unit. Our lives have been better since our reunion, and neither adult not child has had much complaint since we've gotten things together (and that is saying something.) I've learned much in the past months. We all have. I wonder if the tumult of things may (or may not) have ignited some change in me, but I supposed we all need a little help here and there.
I must ask how your current project is going. I can say we've got things in the works here, but we shouldn't say much. Have you gotten things together? I'm sure you're enjoying having a new set of people who depend on you (and never doubt that you're doing good work in that regard. Again, I've been to that city.) If you have photographs, send them on. I have included a current photograph of my wards.
Goku has left us, off on a journey of his own. I have faith he will return soon. If he passes your way, offer him a hot meal, but cut him off after three servings or he'll eat you into the poorhouse. Gojyo turned thirty-one last week. Glowing with health, as much as a chain-smoker can. Hakkai has been well. He is still a bachelor, but he'll find what he's seeking soon enough. The children are well, growing like rice stalks in summer. I had fever last week, but have made a full recovery and trust that there are no lingering problems. I hope this letter finds you well.
Yours, Genjo Sanzo."
"Yours?" Hakkai giggled and passed the letter back to him. "You do know what that means, don't you?"
"It's how my master wrote his farewells in letters to friends, when I watched him write to them. Less formal than 'sincerely.'" Sanzo folded the letter over. "Why?"
"Oh, my." Hakkai put a hand over his mouth. "It's short for 'yours truly,' you know, an indication of belonging. 'I truly belong to you.' I've always thought it to have a romantic connotation, or at least that of love." A pale blush crept up Sanzo's cheeks, and Hakkai tipped his head warily. "If I might ask, which friends?"
Sanzo had to think. "I suppose it only was the... one..." His eyes went black with rage. "Oh god damn-"
Hakkai quickly laughed as Sanzo balled his fists up. "Oh dear. Well, no use worrying over something so long past, yes? Why don't you cool your head and get us some bok choy? I'll make some delightful salads."
"Wait, what?" Gojyo leaned back from where he was sitting with the boys. "No, don't send him out, he's still got that cough. I can get it." He pushed himself up slowly, but put a hand to his head instead of to his back. "Mm. There that goes." He grinned up as Hakkai and Sanzo both inched towards him. "Just a headrush from bein' on the ground so long. Probably shouldn't do that no more."
"No, you shouldn't." Sanzo shook his head, and pulled out his gold card. "Is it alright for you to go?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm actually feelin' pretty good right now. Nobody minds if I bring home apple dumplings for our MVPs, right?" Eiji and Yohei both looked up with big grins, and Sanzo snorted and smiled at the table, clearly happy to be thinking about anything other than his master's indiscretions.
"I suppose I can't say no."
"And cinnamon b-"
"Gojyo, you've been eating a lot of sweets lately." Hakkai spun on his heel and put on that 'you-know-exactly-what-you've-done-wrong' smile. "Why don't you save those for special occasions?" Gojyo turned his toes in and swallowed a nervous chuckle down to a titter.
"Uh, sure." He scratched the back of his head and kicked his foot back and forth, knowing very well he was lying like a dog in a puddle of sunshine.
The walk to the market was uneventful. The skies were fully overcast now, and it brought a twinge of anxiety over Gojyo. He was hoping winter would hold at least until December, or flower prices would shoot up way too quick. "Guess we'll have to go back to Zhengzhou. Shit. Hadn't thought all that far ahead yet." He gave his middle a quick pat through his pocket. "Guess I ought'a do that, if you're gonna be involved. We'll talk to your Uncle and Papa, yeah?" The street was quiet, the streets empty as people dodged inside to avoid what was surely an oncoming storm. The few people he passed didn't give him a second look, but he recognized a regular customer and waved. The clerk at the produce stall recognized him too, and the convenience store cashier asked him how his sons were. It was a weirdly good feeling, like he was just part of the town now. Just another smiling face. Maybe there were just enough people who didn't know what a hanyou was, or maybe there were just enough who had stopped caring, or who just didn't have the guts to throw rocks at him, but he belonged here. This town. This place. That house with his family in it, with that man.
Yeah. That felt good. He was a little proud of it, even. It felt even better knowing he was heading back to all that. He kept a spring in his step and a smile on his face, bok choy in one hand and cinnamon buns and apple dumplings in the other, but the good mood started to fade as he passed by the temple. There was a coach parked in front of the gates with formally dressed footmen pulling suitcases from the back. Gojyo felt that thin thread of tension string across his mind, and it spread from a single string to a whole orchestra of anxiety as he came closer. He could almost smell metal and gunpowder. He felt ready to vomit as he passed the steps, and his head spun when he heard a familiar voice:
"How has business been, Sha Gojyo?" Gojyo froze. He could see Lord Akio out of the corner of his eye, pen in hand, papers on his knees and facing the page. Gojyo couldn't bring himself to look at him, sick to his stomach and feeling a rush of anger coming up through his lungs like he could breathe fire.
Murderer. Murderer. I could kill you where you stand and feel nothing but happy.
"We've been fine." Gojyo closed his hands around the handles of the bags, knuckles white.
Oh shit. I can't even do anything about him. Not without taking this baby down with me.
"And your wards?" Akio scrawled a flourish, then leafed over to the next page.
"Fine." The anger turned to bile in his throat.
"It is my understanding that Lord Sanzo is currently staying in the home of his bodyguards- namely, yourself and your business partner- after his attendant left the city."
"There was an incident after the funeral." Gojyo had to swallow his sickness. "Poison. He almost died."
"How unfortunate." He clicked his tongue. The anxious music in Gojyo's mind spiked. "I would think that this temple would be the safest place for him. But everyone changes after a funeral." He put his pen down, lifted his head, fixed glass-cold black eyes on Gojyo. "It would be all the more unfortunate if he had to face another in such close succession."
Gojyo swallowed again, mouth dry. His guts had turned to a rocking ocean, sloshing against his inner walls, and all he could manage was a frail, "Yeah," before he broke and broke into a run for home. He didn't remember the rest of it, even getting through the door and skidding to a halt in the kitchen behind Hakkai.
"You're breathing heavily. Are you alright?" Hakkai didn't look up from the cutting board. Gojyo tried to speak, but he could feel Yohei and Eiji watching him from the playroom.
"Bok choy." It was all he could come up with, and he dropped the bags on the counter and turned on his heel. He couldn't handle anything more, and rushed for the hallway. Hakkai peered into the bags as Gojyo strode out.
"You couldn't even try to hide your sn- Gojyo?" Hakkai turned when he realized Gojyo was gone, and Sanzo lifted his head from the paper.
"Dad?" Yohei frowned as Gojyo came to a stiff standstill near him. He took a breath, then forced a grin at them.
"I'm, I'm not feelin' so hot. Just gonna lay down 'til dinner. S-sorry." He gave himself motion again for the stairs, driven by the churning in his gut to run, just run, run away...
"He's talkin' like stuff is normal," Eiji whispered, and chewed his finger. "But he looked like he'd seen a monster." Yohei nodded agreement.
"Is that so?" Sanzo folded his newspaper over. "I'll go check under his bed. If it's a big monster, I'll have to use my pistol, so stay here until I say it's safe."
Upstairs, Gojyo threw the lock on the bathroom door just in time to sink to his knees in front of the toilet and empty himself. His heart jolted erratically, spasming against his ribcage in jerks and jumps. Spent, his stomach still shuddered as he sank into the smallest ball he could against the bathtub. He was sure he'd still be vomiting if he weren't empty. "Fuck." The word squeaked out, unwanted, and he fought back tears and held himself tight. He should have known it was unrealistic to expect Akio to stay away forever- of course he was going to come back- but couldn't he have waited another six months? A year, maybe? Everything had been fine, why this, why now?
There was a knock on the door, and Gojyo clenched his fists and forced down the quaver in his voice. "Can't a man get some goddamned privacy?"
"Are you sick?" Sanzo knocked again. "Let me in." Gojyo shivered, couldn't put words together to answer. "Gojyo, let me in and tell me what's wrong, or I'll break the door down and I don't give a shit!"
Let me in. It's all he ever asks me for. To let him in.
"M'coming." Gojyo crawled to the door and turned the handle to unlock it, and Sanzo looked down on him, not angry, thin lips poorly disguising concern. "Kou... he's back. Akio's back. He knows you're here, and he's so pissed."
"Oh." Sanzo frowned, and Gojyo inched back to curl up against the tub again. "That's..." Sanzo followed him in and knelt in front of him. "He spoke to you?"
"He said it'd be bad if you had to go to another funeral anytime soon." Gojyo felt his spit rising up his throat, and swallowed hard. Sanzo put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "He's so mad, Kou, I could smell it, he's fucking raging. My heart was goin' nuts just bein' around him." He bent his head down into his folded arms. "I'm a fucking warrior beast, I shouldn't be terrified of a fucking bureaucrat."
"You have a right to fear him, but remember that I will not let him hurt you." Each of the last five words came to a fierce crescendo, and Sanzo grabbed Gojyo's hands tight. "I will not stand by and let harm come to you, or my children, not even Hakkai and Hakuryu."
"I'm more worried about the one he doesn't know about yet." Gojyo slipped one hand out of Sanzo's hold to touch the top of his middle. "If he tries to kill me, I can handle myself, but if I get hurt, it'll hurt the baby." He shivered. "And that stress thing... what's gonna happen to us?" He cringed, and Sanzo petted his hair until he relaxed again, and the hand on his belly flattened against the curve. "Hey." He straightened up all at once, then grabbed Sanzo's hand. Sanzo, surprised, yanked back. "No, gimme your hand!"
"Don't pull on me."
"Come on. I promise. You want this." Gojyo grinned, and Sanzo studied the curve of his smile, then tentatively held his wrist out. Gojyo grabbed it and planted it right next to where his other hand still sat against his shirt, palm flat. "Tell me you feel that."
He did. Something, someone, was making contact through Gojyo's skin. Sanzo closed his eyes meditatively and took a slow, tense breath, focusing only on the sensation of a tiny limb pressing out against his. Gojyo slid his hand over top of his. "That's the first time I've felt her kick, babe." He smiled a little wider, and tipped his head back. "It's like she's telling us, 'I'm here, I'm alive,' and that it's all gonna be okay..."
"You're right. It is." Sanzo gave his middle another slow caress. "This is a new experience for me." Sanzo pressed, not hard, but firm, against Gojyo's belly. "You never asked me to feel the boys move, I only was able to feel it by accident, or when you were asleep, and you got upset when you caught me."
"What can I say? We weren't gettin' along." He sighed. "And... Kana... she never stopped once she started, and I was always worried you'd see her moving through my clothes. I mean, when I woke up with your hand on my belly, I think I near died."
"I don't remember that. I only remember crawling into bed that night, and holding you tight until you stopped tossing and turning. And then I woke to you being violently ill, and then you left." Sanzo's other hand came close to hold Gojyo at the small of his back. Gojyo leaned into his touch and rested his chin on Sanzo's shoulder.
"Won't leave ever again." He nuzzled Sanzo's neck. "You and me, we gotta stick together, yeah?"
"Yeah." Sanzo wrapped his arm around him, then pulled back and frowned down. "Hey. It stopped."
"Yeah, they do that." Gojyo sat back down to his knees and cupped the roundest part of his abdomen. "With the boys, it'd sometimes be a few minutes awake, a few days asleep. Scared the hell out of me once. But later, the boys'd just toss and turn all night, and then as soon as I gave up sleeping and got up, they were fast asleep. Hakkai said that walking rocked them inside me like a cradle, and that'd put them to sleep. Like any baby." He chuckled. "I guess we scared her, but now that I calmed down, she's calm too."
"Her heart is your heart, and your hips are her cradle." Sanzo's lips spread to a soft smile, and Gojyo's cheeks caught fire. It was an unfamiliar, affectionate expression that Gojyo couldn't remember seeing him direct towards him before.
"Kou..."
"She's safe inside you. We need to keep it that way." Sanzo retracted into his stern, stiffer features, his cold mask returned, but he stroked down Gojyo's shoulder and arm. "We need to protect you and the boys. Don't push me back now." He thumped his fist against his own chest. "I'm your shield. You have protected me, it's my turn to return the favor." He stood, and held his hand out to Gojyo and pulled him to a stand. "Our son or daughter needs more protection than just a layer of fat."
"Hey, I am not all fat, asshole!" His upper lip curled, but Sanzo covered his mouth and laughed softly, joyfully, and Gojyo was again stunned. In spite of it all, Sanzo seemed so light.
"You're not, no." Sanzo ran his hand over Gojyo's hip. "I'm... happy that you're showing. I'd be worried if you didn't." He closed in for one more reassuring embrace. "We can discuss this with Hakkai when the boys are asleep. Compose yourself, and come eat dinner when you're ready."
"Thank you." Sanzo slipped out of his grasp, and Gojyo captured his fingers in his hand. "Really. Thank you. I feel so much better already."
"Good." Sanzo raised Gojyo's hand to his lips and kissed it. Gojyo released him, and he shut the bedroom door behind him. Gojyo went to wash his face and mouth out, feeling strong, spine strong, like he was being held up by everything he'd surrounded himself with.
Downstairs, Hakkai turned on his heel when Sanzo came back in and crouched near the boys in the playroom. "Your dad is fine. The walk made him feel sick, so he's going to rest until dinner. We can start homework without him." Both boys groaned, but went to get their backpacks, and Sanzo went to the table took up the letter he had written. He flipped to the last page, and took up his pen:
"P.S.: If there is ever an emergency, do not hesitate to call on us. This is your best way of making contact, but it will suffice. You'd be surprised at just how soon we can get to you. Yours."
"Is he alright, Sanzo?" Hakkai's voice was a shy hand stretched out, as if expecting to be slapped down. Sanzo folded his letter over and stuffed it into the envelope.
"He will be." He slapped a stamp on the envelope, determination forming cold metal in his eyes. "Trust me."
End Notes: Flowers of the week! Not flowers, but still...
Rose leaf – Hope.
Thorns – Can mean either adversity or protection.
Oh, and if it helps, 41 degrees Celsius comes out around 105 degrees Fahrenheit.
I keep meaning to mention- I love that you guys got concerned about the, er, mutual antipathy Sanzo and Ryuichi share a few chapters back. I can see why you're all worried, too! Ryuichi really does not like that guy. Just the same, Sanzo hates the boy. However, they each have their reasons for disliking the other, and similar reasons for tolerating one another; namely, their mutual love for Gojyo. As for him getting on the big family secret, well, it certainly is getting harder and harder for Gojyo to hide it, so we'll all just have to see what happens, yes? Thanks to encanto, Dragon77, and Tamul-chan9090 for your feedback and support! Special thanks also goes to RodiSquall for all the wonderful things she does!
Next time - the longest chapter I've written since the rewrite of the original King Rat. Our guys' lives couldn't stay peaceful forever, and now that you-know-who is back, things are going to get messy. Leave your thoughts, and I'll see you then!
