Missing Four

A/N: The sort-of-sequel to 'Wonder'. Reading it isn't necessary (though it is appreciated [winks]). The thing about the deck Gojyo was using in that story made meh think about why he would keep a deck of cards without a four? It was gonna beh in Gojyo's POV, but this came out instead. Gotta love the muses...the Solitaire thing was sort of based on a ficceh I read here, but for the love of everything fluffy I can't remember what it was called. Sorry, whoever wrote it. It was a really good ficceh...[sighs]

Warnings: 58, angst, and the normal bad language. Think of it this way. I wrote it at about two-thirty this morning...

The review responses from 'Wonder' are at the end!

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It's a bad time, once the thoughts stop turning themselves into words. Hakkai had taken to writing things down. He didn't want to burden anyone. They had enough opposing forces without them coming apart from the inside. They needed whatever spirits could be mustered, or else hope was lost. And he didn't see any logic to bringing them down with his little rants and idiosyncrasies.

Or did he not tell them because he was afraid they'd try to help?

It made a good counter to the argument he'd worked so hard to set up, to make himself believe. To cancel out everything else, until he was left with this needed reasoning.

So he wrote. And it had helped for some time. Putting it down on paper, something real and tangible, it soothed him. Kept depression at bay, at least for awhile. Long enough to fight a battle. Long enough to care for his friends' well being. Sometimes even long enough to sleep.

But now the words failed to come. Where before he had no difficulties turning his thoughts into the most complex words, now his mind felt empty. But this new feeling wasn't pleasant. Ignorance was –not- bliss. His inability to express himself left him with a sort of dark unease. It was depressing, and he couldn't find either a cause or a solution to this sudden writer's block.

Even now, when he finally had some rest time, he could think of nothing. The feeling was there, but nothing would come onto the paper.

He sat on the bed for at least an hour, back against the headboard, open notebook resting on bent knees, pen ready. He waited an hour. Not a word graced the clean white page.

Finally he threw the notebook down in frustration. He decided to go looking around for awhile. Maybe talking to someone would help the words in his mind. Maybe he could find something to dislodge this damnable emptiness.

He wandered into Gojyo's room. Whether by chance or subconscious urging, he couldn't tell. At any rate, it wasn't premeditated, that was sure. The room was empty. Only the extra pack of cigarettes on the nightstand and the small knapsack near the bed could prove that it was indeed the redhead's room. Hakkai sat on the bed and sighed. Usually talking to him helped somewhat.

It was hard to find the right type of conversation in his group. Sanzo knew a lot of things, and was quite good at knowing just what Hakkai was trying to convey, but he didn't talk much. The monk preferred to let his facial expressions and various weapons talk for him. Goku was quite the opposite. He would talk forever if you let him, but sometimes it was hard for the younger boy to understand the complex things the brunette wanted to get out. Nor did he take depression well; his immediate action was to try and get rid of it, not understand it.

Gojyo was probably the closest thing Hakkai had to a happy medium. He dealt with people all the time, more than the others. He knew when to talk and when it was better to listen. He wasn't as one-tracked as he let on. Sometimes he was quite philosophic.

But he wasn't there. Gods only knew where he was. Most likely finding somewhere he could make some money—or lose it—or get some attention. He wasn't –always- as one-tracked as he let on. Sometimes that's exactly what he was.

Hakkai waited for a few minutes, in case by some miracle Gojyo sensed he was needed and rushed back. After his psychic skills went unrewarded, the brunette stood up. Best to go back to his room and to bed. During his exit, his foot caught on one of the knapsack's straps, upsetting it and sending its contents to the floor.

He cursed softy and went to the floor to clean it up. It wasn't anything breakable at least. Just little things Gojyo's warped mind thought important enough to keep. Souvenirs he picked up along their trip so far, scraps of paper with information on them...

A deck of cards. Normally this wouldn't warrant a second thought, but Hakkai knew this deck. Gojyo had owned this deck of cards since Hakkai had known him. He didn't use them when he played anyone though. He only used this deck to play Solitaire. Which was always very odd; because the deck was short a four of spades. Gojyo had another deck, a full one, to play games with others. But he refused to get rid of this old one, and never told anyone why.

The deck, held together by a rubber band, lingered in Hakkai's hands. He looked at the first card. It was worn, almost to the point of destruction. The ink had come off in several places from repeated handling. Again he wondered, how exactly a person could play Solitaire, a game where you –needed- all fifty-two cards, without the four. Didn't he care enough that he never could win to use the full deck? The cards themselves must have some sort of meaning to them, which was the conclusion he came to. He was kneeling on the floor, holding the cards with a dazed, unfocused look in his eyes when the door opened.

"Hakkai?" Gojyo raised an eyebrow.

Upon hearing the voice, Hakkai returned to the real world. He jumped in surprise, attempting to stand he wound up falling to the floor, landing unceremoniously on his rear.

The redhead blinked.

"Gojyo! I thought you were gone, and I accidentally spilled your bag..."

Gojyo walked over to his fallen friend and offered a hand. "Taking a shower," he responded, pulling Hakkai up.

"Oh..." the brunette finished his task of returning everything to the knapsack. "I'm sorry about the intrusion."

He shrugged. "'Sokay. You alright?"

Hakkai nodded, regaining his composure. "Yes. Thank you."

Gojyo sprawled on his bed. "Is something up?"

"Not especially," he frowned in thought, and then smiled. "Just here for the witty banter I suppose."

Gojyo laughed, laying his arms behind his head. "Sure you're in the right room then?"

"The cards..."

He looked confused. "What?"

"The deck of cards with the missing four..." Hakkai sat down on the edge of the bed. "They were in your bag when I was picking it up."

"Oh," Gojyo shrugged a bit uncomfortably. "I guess you're wondering why I still keep 'em?"

He nodded. "It's alright if you don't want to tell me. I'm just curious."

The redhead was thinking. "I suppose I should tell you. It's kinda stupid really." He reached into the back and extracted the deck, holding them up. "You probably figured out it has to be a sentimental reason to keep them, since I never play with them."

"Except Solitaire," Hakkai said softly, "But yes, I did."

"Right. Do you remember when you first came to live with me?" He meant when Gojyo dragged his battered shell of a soul back to his house. Hakkai nodded, not saying anything. "Well...while you were...um...recuperating, I didn't go out. So, I didn't have anything better to do than play Solitaire all day."

"...With those cards..." the brunette whispered, half out of shock, half for the gravity of the conversation.

Gojyo nodded. "It's stupid, like I said, but sometimes I still play with them, when no one's there to talk to." He added as an afterthought, "When –you're- not there to talk to."

"It's not stupid at all," Hakkai insisted. "It's actually quite sweet."

He grinned, pushing a strand of wet hair behind his ear. He was actually blushing a bit. "It's just important. It was an important part of my life, so I kept the cards to remind me. Not that I could forget..."

Hakkai smiled. "I don't know what to say..."

Gojyo shrugged again. "Then don't say anything. You don't have to." The brunette started to reply, but he cut him off. "It's really late. You'd better get some sleep, or Sanzo might actually get up before you tomorrow."

Whatever Hakkai had meant to say was lost. He replied sarcastically, as Gojyo might. "Yes –Mother-..."

There was a mischievous flicker in red eyes. Before Hakkai could get up, Gojyo leaned over and kissed him. All Hakkai could see was hair coloured like blood, smelled of fruit shampoo. He blinked to clear his head once Gojyo leaned back to his original position, grinning.

"Your mother wouldn't do –that-..."

Hakkai laughed, standing up. "If she did, I'm afraid I'd have a lot more problems than I do now."

---

Back in his own room, Hakkai confronted the notebook once again. He was tired of it. Opening the desk drawer, he shoved the paper in there, and slammed the drawer shut again.

That problem solved, he lay on his bed. He smiled to himself at the previous conversation with Gojyo. Keeping the deck wasn't stupid. It was inspiring, looking at something that had powerful memories attached to it.

He reached into his own small bag, which he had left on his nightstand. Pulling out a book, he sat up. He only kept one book with him, a volume of poetry. He let the pages flip, coming to rest of a bookmark of sorts.

It was a playing card. He took it out of the book, flipping it over in his hand good-naturedly. It –was- inspiring. Maybe inspiring enough to write something.

But that would wait until tomorrow. And if not tomorrow, then the next day. It didn't seem as important as it had before. The emptiness was fading, at least for now. A more insistent feeling was coming upon him. He was tired. He lay down again, twirling the cards with his fingers until he drifted to sleep.

The four of spades slipped from his hand, back into the book where it would stay, never forgotten. Always inspiring.

And never something stupid.

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Whoo. That was kinda harder than the first one. I had this big dark thing planned, but I couldn't seem to do it in this. It was too cute. Maybeh I should do another one? Whatcha think?

KarotsaMused: Thankehs so much! It means a lot, cuz you're fast becoming one of my worshipped writers! The 'oddly lovely' (I love that term) language I chock up to my extensive 3 a.m. vocabulary. [grins] My favourite writing time.

Celeste1: [blushes] For sure! I can never refuse a request like that!

KokkoryuhaFox: Angst is best served with a side of fluff. And it's never a pleasant situation...

Me-Nuriko & Crimson1: Thanks for all the love! 58 is one of my faves, and easy for meh to write, so expect a lot more! Although I –do- love a good triangle... [smirks]