______

"You should get over it, you know, he didn't mean it that way."

"The hell he didn't!" he raged. "I happen to think that both halves of me are just fine, thank

you, and I don't give a fuck if he's Buddha himself, he's got more blood on his hands than me and he's got NERVE telling me that my youkai side makes me a mindless killer!!"

"Gojyou. You know he's not himself right now."

He swung around. "Yeah? Then who the hell is he? Dammit, Hakkai, why aren't you mad at him?" The sight of the bandage did it again. "You know, I think he IS himself right now. I think that's what he really feels, the bastard. We can eat together and sleep together and goddamn save each other's lives but when the chips are down, there he stands, the one shining figure of humanity among a bunch of dirty youkai." The words tasted bad but felt right as they tripped and tumbled out of his mouth. "Damn monk."

"Gojyou," and he wished that Hakkai didn't say his name like that, for all his gentle voice it always seemed to grab him by the ears and set him down again. "I am mad at him. But I feel sorry for him too."

"Sorry?! For HIM?!"

"He hates youkai." It was stated simply, almost blandly, and that made him even madder.

"You think that's an excuse for what he said to y--"

Hakkai's voice sliced in, cutting off the rest of his rant. "You weren't there, when he vouced for me before the Three. He trusted me with his life, and I saw how much it cost him."

He reddened. Of course, he'd known about Sanzou's...sponsorship. But gratitude wasn't a weapon you used to stab someone in the back.

His friend was still talking, his voice calm and serious. "Just think about what we saw earlier today."

He thought about it. It was impossible not to; the scene flickered in his head with a clarity that he didn't want. He would probably dream about it at night. A niggling voice that squirmed beneath his anger said, And you think that Sanzou won't?

Hakkai went on. "That boy who survived? He was probably around Sanzou's age when his Master was killed."

Shit. He'd known that, too, but hadn't wanted to think about it, had just wanted the stifling silence to break.

"Still," he said lamely, "that doesn't give him any excuse to-"

"Gojyou."

"...what."

"You care about him too, don't you."

"What? For that high-handed hypocrite who pretends to be a monk?!" He snorted.

Hakkai looked at him. For a moment, he held that knowing, smiling green gaze. Then he looked away.

"...fuck. Why'd you have to ask that?"

It was hitting him again, how badly he needed a drink. Gods, what a long day. And he knew, the way Sanzou knew how to hurt, the way Hakkai knew how to soothe, that there were so many more to come.

_______

Epilogue, or, Where the Hell was the Monkey?

_______

He was stuck by the door, unsure of what he was hearing, but sure that something had gone very wrong. For once food was forgotten. It dangled from his fingers, his hard-earned prize wrested from the kitchens (not so hard once he'd told the scullery girl that he was with Gojyou.) Only minutes ago he'd been so hungry he thought he would die. Now his stomach was curled tight with apprehension.

Something had happened. Gojyo was mad, not playing at all, and Hakkai was hurting, he could see it in the way he pulled himself in. The words lingered like a bad taste. A bunch of dirty youkai? Did he mean them? But if they weren't Gojyo and Hakkai and himself, Son Goku, if they were just youkai, and Sanzou hated youkai, then...

His mind shied away from the enormity of the conclusion, but it was there, staring him in the face. He wasn't stupid, after all.

Sanzou hated them. And if Hakkai was right (Hakkai was always right), Sanzou had always hated them. He'd gone off because he couldn't stand the thought of not eating for one minute more and Sanzou had let him go, had whacked him with the fan and told him he was useless and he'd grinned because it had never occurred to him that Sanzou hated youkai. All youkai. Including them.

Including him.

He'd never thought of himself as youkai, nor Hakkai nor Gojyou even though he and Hakkai wore the limiters and Gojyou had said something about his red hair, had never thought of Sanzou as human even though he was, because Sanzou was Sanzou and they were the Sanzou-Ikkou. Weren't they?

Apparently not.

He felt like he was choking. Sanzou hated him. He hated Hakkai and Gojyou the way he hated the youkai who'd killed the monks, the youkai they'd spent the whole day hunting in the rain. Was that why he shoved him away and called him a bakazaru? It had to be.

He racked his brains, searching for proof that it was otherwise. Had Sanzou ever said they were friends? He'd never thought to ask. He hadn't known there was a word to describe what he was to Sanzou, or what Sanzou was to him.

Apparently, it was "youkai" and "human".

More memories. That time, that one time he had never told anyone about, not even Hakkai whom he went to for all his questions. When he'd wrapped his arms around Sanzou and begged him never to go away, and Sanzou'd looked down and put his hands on his face and said quietly, You're hurting me.

He'd let go guiltily, expecting the fan, but instead Sanzou had shook his head and said, Not your arms. It's your eyes.

And Sanzou hadn't hit him. Instead, he'd held him, for one precious moment that made the hundreds of years recede in his head, right before he'd kicked him out and shut the door in his face. Sometimes, when Sanzou called him an idiot, or had threatened to kill him more than three times in a day, he brought out that moment and turned it over in his mind, reassuring himself with its warmth and weight.

But now he knew why his eyes hurt Sanzou. It was because they were gold. Like beer in a glass, Gojyou always said. Youkai eyes. And Sanzou hated them.

He walked back to his room, mind numb. The way was blurred. His golden eyes, his stupid youkai eyes, were leaking tears for the first time he could remember. But he paused before the

door, remembering things, conversations other than the one he had just overheard.

*You've been calling me*

His jaw pushed forward. Sanzou had saved him. And if that didn't mean anything to Sanzou, well, it meant something to him. He wasn't going to run away just because it hurt, and besides, he couldn't. He didn't know what to do in a world without Sanzou.

There WAS no world without Sanzou.

He dropped the food and dashed back down the hall, down the stairs and outside. He nearly ran straight into Sanzou, who was coming out of the prison, carrying Gojyou's scythe.

Suddenly his throat was choking itself again. He couldn't quite look at Sanzou's face.

"What's wrong, bakazaru?" Sanzou didn't really sound different, but then again, he'd never known that Sanzou hated him before. He didn't mind unattachment because he could always just attach himself to Sanzou but hate was different.

You might not be able to stick with someone who hated you, even if you were willing. Because they might just _want_ to leave you behind.

"...nothing," he mumbled. He'd known what to say a moment ago, the words had been burning in his mind. He could feel Sanzou lift a brow.

"Sou ka."

He fell in behind the monk as they retraced his steps back to the inn. He followed him right

back to his room, and then stood in the doorway, irresolute.

"Just tell me what it is, bakazaru, I don't have the time or energy to watch you mope." He still

couldn't hear any real hatred. If anything, Sanzou sounded less mad than usual. One final spurt of courage that burst through the choke on his throat. The words still came out half-strangled.

"Ne...Sanzou...you hate youkai, don't you..."

There was a long pause and his throat was closing again. His heartbeat had never seemed so

painful before.

"...Why are you asking?"

His heart twisted. Was that a yes?

"I'm youkai...right? So...do you hate me?"

He opened his eyes after a while where neither of them said anything, and found Sanzou was

looking at him in a way that he couldn't figure out.

"No," the monk said finally, and Goku thought that his heart would surely rise right out of his chest. "No, I don't hate you."

He believed those last words because Sanzou had never lied to him yet, even though they sounded a little odd, as if something were choking his throat too. But it was all alright then, if Sanzou didn't hate him. He'd figure out the rest later.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and gave Sanzou a tentative grin. And suddenly had it wiped off as he remembered that he'd left the meat buns in his room.

ON THE FLOOR.

He was scrambling back to his room to save them from mice, or Gojyou, when Sanzou's voice rang out, this time unchoked.

"Chotto matte, bakazaru," and he was holding out the scythe, which Goku noticed had been newly cleaned.

"Take this to Gojyou, and tell him that he should get some rest. It's been a long day."

The end.

Hm... On further inspection it's still damned crappy, but *eheh* that doesn't mean I wouldn't like feedback. *sheepish* Argh, maybe I'll just forget about charaterization and just write sweet, satisfying smut. ^^ Blame it on Minekura-sensei, who created such vivid characters with such wretched, gory pasts. *grin* Makes it hard to shove 'em in bed and have them screw like bunnies.