Love Lies Bleeding

Memories are just where you laid them,

dragging waters 'til the depths give up their dead.

What did you expect to find?

Was it something you left behind?

Don't you remember everything I said when I said:

Don't fall away, and leave me to myself.

Don't fall away, and leave love bleeding in my hands,

in my hands again;

leave love bleeding in my hands.

In my hands,

love lies bleeding.

'Hemorrhage (Love Lies Bleeding)', Fuel

There was no dawn in hell.

Of course, the plane in which the hollow cavern existed on was not quite hell, but definitely a distant cousin to said nether realm. Outside the wet dripping and the damp chill of the cave, no sun rose. No cock crowed, instead the damned wailed and wept. But none of this bothered the two occupants of the small, makeshift bed that hugged the wall of the cavern.

The demon slept on his side; wings made it impossible to do otherwise unless he took to his belly. But that was not an option, as he shared the bed with another who could not roll. One of Hikou's arms was folded against him, the other was lazily thrown out over his partner's chest, holding him down and claiming him.

He was not asleep. Lashes and bangs shadowed his nearly closed eyes, the amber depths fixed on his partner's face. He remained peaceful, face still slack with slumber's weight, but he was awake.

And so was Houjun.

Did he realize what he'd done? Did he regret it? Did he want to do it again? Hikou's thoughts circled these questions obsessively as he felt the monk's chest rise and fall beneath the weight of his arm, watching, wondering what danced behind the single, perfect eye, behind the unmarred lid that obscured it from his sight.

Did he regret it?

Houjun didn't answer. He didn't stir, but Hikou knew he was not asleep. The breathing was wrong; controlled, perhaps in meditation. But how could he meditate now? When he was naked in bed with a man who'd tried to make love to him the night before.

Tried. The word burned at Hikou. Nothing had gone as he expected it to. His plans had been shattered. But still, he had what he wanted, didn't he? Houjun was warm against him, the heat trapped under the blankets giving Hikou a semblance of humanity. It was what he wanted, wasn't it?

He watched his companion feign slumber for a little while longer. He didn't want to emerge from the bubble of warmth he'd created between them, but the bandages that brushed against his arm reminded him that he had an obligation to mend the wounds that he had inflicted. It wouldn't do to let Houjun die or be crippled after he'd let Hikou do as he pleased.

"I should get you back," Hikou finally broke the silence, announcing to Houjun he knew very well that the man was awake. Continuing as Houjun's brows abruptly furrowed, Hikou added, "You need a doctor."

"I need Mitsukake," Houjun sleepily mumbled, voice thick with slumber. "But barring him, yes, I suppose a doctor."

And then he began to squirm.

Hikou lifted his head and blinked in mild curiosity as Houjun carefully twisted, stretched, and flexed muscles without getting up and stretching in a more conventional manner. But then, the monk was still quite beaten; perhaps this was the only way he could get the kinks out.

Hikou gave a small laugh once it was over and then slowly sat up, the blanket shifting over them both as he pushed it down about his hips. Idly, he looked for his clothing from his seat, leaning forward to discover they'd fallen off the foot of the bed. He paused a moment as a blush crept to his cheeks, and then forced himself to get up and scrabble for his clothes. His gaze wandered to the ground, finding a small puddle that was certainly not water.

Houjun kept his gaze purposefully anywhere else as he tugged at the sheet, letting the demon do as he would.

"Will I need to carry you?" Hikou asked as he began to tug on his pants as quickly as he could.

"No," Houjun said. "Can I borrow this sheet?" he asked after a moment. Hikou gave him a nod, looking over curiously. What could Houjun want a sheet for?

The monk leaned over to the side of the bed, plucking the prayer beads from the water they had rested in over the course of the evening. He shook them lightly to scatter droplets of water back to the puddles below. Houjun found the spells contained within the beads, the prayers to set off the magic within his mind.

But he found the teleportation spell that he had powered last night, as well. It was there; the possibility of escape, of fleeing this awkward and hurtful situation. He could leave! He could leave right now and no one could stop him. Not the demon, not anyone. He could go somewhere, somewhere safe...

But he didn't. His heart clenched at the sheer cowardice of the action he contemplated, and shame gripped his guts, shaking him for his thoughts. To think that a Suzaku shichiseishi would want to run from a situation he could not control. Not that he could say he hadn't done so in the past, when Miaka's life had been at stake-but this was different. It was only him at stake.

Only his life, only his innocence at risk here. And he now had little of the latter left.

So the spell he released was only to transmute and transform. Where there had been a nude monk with only a sheet across his lap, there now sat a clothed monk, looking somewhat better with his wounds hidden. He had not chosen his monkly raiment, however; he wore a tunic of green, edged in olive, and pants that matched.

Hikou blinked mildly at his now-dressed companion, his robes hanging open on his body. "Must come in handy," he quipped, before canting his head in curiosity. "Why didn't you do that earlier?" he asked.

"Didn't have the strength to," Houjun answered honestly. "It was why I was meditating, the night before. Recouping my energy." But he seemed to be considering another statement. He took his time, mulling it over with the demon's eyes still on him.

"You don't need to take me back," Houjun finally offered the demon--himself--an out to the possibly painful parting. "I've got enough power for a teleportation spell."

Hikou continued to dress as if he hadn't heard the monk, reaching for his tunic and shaking it out before sliding his arms into it. "I want to take you back," he finally said, as he tugged his belled sleeves through.

Robes still open, allowing skin still showing the dark skin of a farmer's son to peek through, Hikou turned to face Houjun fully. "I don't want to let go of you yet. And I want to be sure you'll be well," he elaborated, a smile that lacked any humor coming to his lips.

The reaction Hikou received was not enthusiastic. A flicker of worry crossed the scarred face of the seishi, and he then gave a brief nod, blue bangs dipping down with the motion, only to flop back upward into their ridiculous cockatoo's crest.

"We shouldn't go to Mt. Leikauku," Houjun mused a loud. "Tasuki-kun has a history with demons, and he won't like you. And Mt. Taikyoku... anou, I'm not sure how Taiitsukun will take this... There's the palace, but..."

"If you're trying to figure out a place where I'll be welcome, don't bother," Hikou finally interrupted the monk's verbal meandering. "No offense, Houjun, but I'm not going to be welcomed with open arms anywhere. If you know a place to be, I'll take you there. I won't dally long." He paused, and then sighed, correcting his terseness. "Please. Don't limit your options for my own convenience."

But the damage had been done. With a single word, Houjun's mind was awhirl.

Dally.

He didn't want to dally long.

Dally-Dalliance. Isn't that what you did with a girl you didn't care about? Dally with them; a bit of fun, but no seriousness behind it? You dallied with girls you didn't care about...

Was this all a dalliance for the demon?

Hikou noticed the silence, but did not realize it's cause. "Houjun?"

"We'll go to Mt. Leikauku," Houjun said, abruptly longing for the security of his brother shichiseshi's fortress. "Tasuki will be able to take me in."

He rose then, and paused, before bringing his hands up in a motion that seemed natural, ingrained into his morning routine. Long-fingered, farmer's hands, made rough by wielding staff and dancing through holy mudras, weaved through the air in three sharp yet graceful motions.

And then, in the air, outlined in red, was a fox-faced paper mask. It had a happy smile, and arched eyes that seemed to indicate that nothing could be wrong with the world.

The mask fell gently into Houjun's outstretched palms as if it were meant to rest there. He paused, considering; should he go maskless? To Tasuki? That would surely betray everything on his open face, his readable gaze. He would give away all his secrets, his confusion and pain, with a look.

He had to wear the mask. He wanted to wear it. To hide everything once more. Life was safer, behind the mask. Lifting it to his face, it adhered perfectly to his features, seamlessly clinging to his skin and hiding his scar, his pain, his guilt, his grief.

When he looked at Hikou with those featureless, happy eyes, the demon's disapproval was obvious.

Houjun didn't care. This was for the best.

"Ready whenever you are," the monk said, rising carefully. He was steady on his feet; his ribs still ached, but that was minor in the grand scheme of things. He could still stand and walk on his own.

The demon nodded, and turning his face away as he reached up to rub at the back of his neck. The mask was punishment for his earlier blunder, Hikou was sure, but he did not comment on it. What was said was said, and he felt no need to correct or make amends for it.

"Come on," Hikou said, brushing away the discomfort he felt. He turned to face Houjun once more, and then offered his hand, his eyes settling on the face he could no longer read.

Hikou waited there, hand outstretched, as Houjun considered the proffered palm. The smiling face gave nothing but what it was meant to give, and Hikou felt his ire rising at the unseen monk behind it. He couldn't tell if Houjun was refusing, considering, or nervous!

But then, it didn't just hide the pain, did it? It hid everything. It hid the truth.

But finally a warm hand slipped into his, and Hikou felt relief lift the weight of his frustration from his shoulders. Tapering fingers curled around Houjun's; the demon's were strangely delicate, and always had been. Houjun, in comparison, had fine farmer's hands: large, long-fingered, strong and dexterous. Made for hard work, carpentry, mending fences.

But with Houjun's hand in his, Hikou tugged him closer as his wings spread from his back, casting a shadow on the other. "Thank you," he said.

And then the water began to rush about them. Abruptly rising and stirring about their ankles, it shot up around them in a pillar. Houjun's hand tightened about Hikou's as abrupt fear gripped him. Had Hikou tricked him? Was he going to kill him here, now that he'd gotten what he wanted? Had he misplaced his trust in the demon?

No.

As abruptly as the water had roared up and around them, it was gone, and sunlight shone down on both demon and shichiseishi. Houjun's fingers were still tight about Hikou's in a vice like death grip, and the monk panted from fear. But after a tense moment he pried his fingers loose from around Hikou's, and stepped back, looking back and forth.

They were right before the main fortress. Hikou had brought them here without a second thought. Without even asking for spiritual directions, as it were. This was a disturbing thought. How much of his life was Hikou aware of?

But he never got the chance to question the demon about it. Instead, both found themselves interrupted by a battle cry that was disturbingly familiar.

"Lekka-"

It was Tasuki. And he was probably going to try to set Hikou on fire. While he didn't know quite what to feel about the demon or his situation with him, Houjun knew he couldn't let Hikou be set ablaze by a tessan-happy shichiseishi.

No matter that it made his ribs ache, Houjun jumped before the demon, waving his arms and hollering at the top of his lungs, "DON'T FLAME HIM, NO DA!" much to the shock of everyone involved.

"Shi-what?!" The voice abruptly cracked, and finally, the pair spotted a certain red-haired, amber-eyed bandit. He hung half out of a window, waving his iron fan in the air as it spit smoke and sparks and blackened his face in a magical backfire from the spell he hadn't completed.

"What the fuck do you MEAN 'Don't flame him, no da'!?" the bandit hollered.

But before the pair on the ground could do more then blink at the display, the howling redhead leapt from the window, landing on his feet in a crouch before the pair with inhuman grace. He immediately straightened and began to scream at both of them.

"What the hell are you thinking!? You're just waltzin' up the HOLY mountain of Leikauku with a goddamned DEMON!" Tasuki huffed at the both of them, his amber eyes the only color in his still soot-blackened face. He shook his fist, he stomped his foot-it was a tantrum fit to shame any skilled two year old.

"Tasuki-kun," Houjun finally said, as the redhead took another breath to continue his tirade, "Stop. Calm down, no da. This is Hikou, no da. And he's..." The monk paused, searching for the right words to use. But he could find none. "He's a friend, no da."

"A demon," Tasuki intoned, looking at Hikou over Houjun's shoulder. The demon stared back, impassive despite the bandit's rage. "You're 'friends' with a demon."

"It's a long story, no da."

Hikou and Tasuki stared at each other a moment, amber eyes to amber eyes, Tasuki's gleaming topaz to the smoldering embers of Hikou's gaze. Neither spoke, as a staredown commenced.

"Quiet fella," Tasuki finally said. "Let's hope he stays that way."

Hikou laughed, only causing the bandit to growl like a feral animal. But not wanting to incite confrontation, he quietly looked away, shaking his head in derisive amusement, leaving Houjun to act as damage control between the two men.

"Now, now, Tasuki-kun, no da!" The monk chided gently.

"I can't believe you brought him here," the bandit retorted, before he paused and turned around to look at Houjun more closely. The monk reached out and they clasped arms; between the two, auras intermingled, and Houjun seemed to draw strength from the bandit leader. Tasuki was the balefire of the mountain, the light at the peak, and his vitality was infectious.

Not that this was really a bad thing for the wounded monk.

"Y' don't look so good, 'Chiri," Tasuki said, as they released one another. A glance was cast at Hikou, who watched on from the corner of his eyes. "S'at why ya came up here? Need a little fixin' up? Well, c'mon inside! We'll get ol' Daisuke-sensei ta patch ya up, good as new."

He paused, before turning, and gave Hikou a narrow-eyed glance, eyes brimming with distrust. "Guess he can come inside," he finally acquiesced, after a moment's staredown between seishi and shittenou. "If he can behave himself."

Houjun just sighed, glad that Hikou was silent behind them. At least he wasn't provoking Tasuki's ire-but Houjun could feel the loathing roll off the shittenou in thick waves. He hated Tasuki within moments of meeting him. Could it have been any worse?

Of course it could have. They could have killed each other immediately, rather then stewing in their immediate distaste for each other. At least now, they had a tenuous peace.

And so, Houjun and Tasuki walking side by side, Hikou lagging slightly behind them, they entered the bandit fortress. Houjun felt the swell of chi and magic flaring behind him, and didn't have to glance back to realize that Hikou had withdrawn his wings and was now pretending to be human.

The shittenou still got looks from the bandits in the fortress, dressed as he was in rich silks fit to shame Hotohori's imperial court. Red and gold, the colors of the empire, were prominent in the ensemble, and they probably wondered if they two seishi were entertaining some sort of dignitary from the Court of the Phoenix.

Thus, they were able to traverse the fortress unmolested. Tasuki led them to a door with the symbol for well, 'Sho', carved into a door. It was the character that represented the constellation of Gemini, and the one that Houjun had been born to represent; Chichiriboshi.

"Just as ya left it," Tasuki said, pushing the door open.

While the two shichiseishi entered without pause, Hikou hovered in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room. A small bed for a single man, with a dresser against one wall. A small shrine sat atop the dresser, a rough desk was next to it. A wind chime hung near the window, jingling to facilitate the proper flow of ki throughout the room. It was small and homey, in its own way, if perhaps a bit cool for the demon's liking.

Houjun dropped to sit on the bed, visibly tired from the trek. Tasuki and Hikou found each other with identical expressions, frowning deeply with brows knitted fitfully.

"Ya need t' rest," Tasuki spoke first. "I'll go see about a room for your... buddy. But me and you, we should have dinner t' night and talk."

The bandit didn't look at the demon to deliver his pointed snub. Hikou and Houjun both heard it, and Hikou bristled at the idea that this bandit would so obviously separate them. The dark-haired shittenou did not like the feelings it inspired; he'd been jealous before, and it had not been fun. He didn't want to go down that path again.

But he was jealous anyway.

Houjun opened his mouth to speak, but the bandit had already turned to push past Hikou's form in the doorway. Hikou watched him walk away, before entering in the room. He shut the door behind him.

"You were right," Hikou mused aloud. "He doesn't like me at all."

Houjun sighed, leaning back against the wall, glancing out the window set above the bed. "I knew that he would. But he tends to be... protective of me." No shadows touched the happy features of the mask that gave no indication of the man's true expression beyond it. "We are the last, and I think he fears losing any more people he cares for."

The demon shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms across his chest, hands thrust into sleeves. "I feel his pain. Really." He turned from the man, the rigid set of his body radiating sullen irritation.

There was a quiet pause, before Houjun simply answered, "I am sure you feel no one's pain but your own. Else you would not be standing here as you are now."

He may have very well slapped the demon. He turned his head, blinking his amber eyes as he stared at the masked face. Happy eyes stared back, a permanent smile never leaving those lips he had claimed the night before. There should have been anger on that face. Recrimination. Something other than that damned mask.

But there should have been guilt, or at least anger on Hikou's. There was only surprise, however. And then, simply the coldness of the river.

"Nor as you are now, either, I'd wager," Hikou retorted, razors in his tone. He didn't wait for a farewell, or to offer one in return. He simply began to liquefy; color sapped from his body, till there was simply a gleaming, wet pillar that resembled a man. It burst outward with a splatter, yet only vanished, leaving the room and it's sole occupant alone and dry.

Houjun sighed softly, looking at where his one-night lover had once stood, then reached up to rub at his temples. The paper of his mask was rough under his fingers, and he found himself peeling it off as if in a dream. He cradled the mask in his hands.

His face.

His identity.

His shield.

Hands began to move together, the paper mask caught between. Tiny crinkles began to appear in the paper, getting larger and more numerous as he increased the pressure. He didn't stop until it was only a rumpled ball in between his large palms, held firmly together. His single eye was clenched tightly shut.

Houjun took a long, slow breath, and let it out. He could not find his center; he could not produce the calm of meditation. He was out of balance. He was out of focus. He was out of time.

With a flick of his wrist, the wadded-up mask was tossed onto the table. He took the prayer beads up and laid them with more reverence across the table, before standing up quietly and looking out to the window. He'd go meet Tasuki for that meal now, he decided.