Disclaimer: I do not own Gensoumaden Saiyuki or any of it's characters, places, scenarios, etc. All that lovley fluff belongs to Minekura-Sama, though I wish I had them .
Summary: Gojyo reflects on all the beautiful things that have come and gone in his life.
Damn rain...it's been pouring in sheets for days now. I was so sure that these pitiful introspectives were over and done with that one night in that cold inn over a month ago. But here I am, sitting alone at this broke-down bar, staring wistfully into a glass of booze wishing for something pretty to come by and distract me.
Yet the broads are plain and homely, their heavily made-up faces not concealing very much of the average-Jane look about them. And I'm too picky about my tart to take just anyone home. They've got to be a real showstopper. It's always been that way with me. Nothing less than the best. Nothing less than the most painfully beautiful things would ever be allowed to follow me home.
It all started with those flowers.
I remember so clearly, the smell of the meadow as I picked a boquet of fragrant flowers for my "mother". She would always cry whenever she saw me, and I had hoped that some sort of offering would quell her torrent of tears, if not make her love me. Or just accept me. Jien looked at me with a grin across his face and told me that he was sure she would love them. How wrong could he be? I also still remember the sight of those gorgeous flowers trashed between the slim and hateful fingers of a woman who couldn't love me no matter how hard either of us tried. The way the petals sprinkled in torrents across the room, and how my blood soon followed, spilled in an act of sheer maliciousness.
I knew deep down that she meant to kill me. There was nothing in this world that was going to stop her from taking that last blow with the axe and lopping off the bitter coctail created by the man she had loved, and a woman she never knew.
Nothing would stop her, except Jien. I had closed my eyes, anticipating the last flash of blinding agony to be followed by my eternal darkness. Instead I heard the pattering of liquid on the hard, wooden floor, and heavy breathing intertwined with barely controlled whimpers. Cracking open my disbelieving eyes, I saw him standing there with a sword in hand, her blood running from the blade to the hilt.
I was his brother, though only half of me could claim so. The woman he just struck down had been his very own mother. Their pure, youkai blood mixed through and through. Before I could even comprehend what had just happened, he had fled. In shame or in fear, I did not know.
It was a bloody, bloody day, that cost me so many beautiful things all at once.
From there, I learned to lavish the beautiful things that crossed my path, but never imposed my presence on them. They either came to me, or were left to themselves. I came and went through bars lavishing every babe-ly thing that meandered across my path. I never denied a pretty face just so long as she knew exactly where she stood. "Nothing personal babe..." Not really. It was all quite personal. I was sick and tired of holding on to these butterflies. Beautiful and fragile, and so prone to running away.
Whether it was the beer goggles or the sugar in the jar that kept me saying I could play along with these women this way, that's how it's been. Back in my old place, there were stars carved into the headboard of my bed. One for every beautiful woman that stayed the night. I don't kiss and tell, but I will say that my running record does not dispute what my repetoire would imply.
Yet they still came and went. No one asked me if they could stay. No one begged me to let them in. They understood all too well. Or maybe they knew, knew of my taint and my tendencies, and could not handle what all that entailed. It seemed as if I was destined to be alone.
Then one day, heading home from a bar, just like this, I saw some nutcase with a pretty face takin' a mudbath in the middle of the road. This one looked up at me with eyes the color of spring's first blossoming blades of grass, but with a bitter intensity that begged me for release. It didn't want to stay. But being the lonely asshole that I am, well, picked this beaut up like a troublesome kitten, and took it to my bed, like always. And when he awoke and sunned me with that silly fake smile, how could I not want him?
Yes, him.
There was no two ways about it, the first and only man ever in my bed would also be the first and last thing that I'd ever want. Yet if he knew, would he not flee too?
The guy's as straight as a needle...a lil off judging by the fact that his sister was his lover, but I guess I'm no better lusting after a man that I found lying in the street on my way home one night. Yet I can still imagine that silly smile in place as he tells me that it's nothing personal, but the blood on his hands is too fresh to touch anything pure anymore.
Damnit Hakkai...let the blood wash away already...or at the least, bathe in it with me. You once told me that the crimson of my hair reminded you of all the blood that you had spilled. Then damnit, run your fingers through my hair and admonish youself, but drown in me...drown with me.
I can see you, even though I'm not there, staring out the window clutching at that old scar on your belly, looking like the God of Doom and Gloom himself. And I want to hold you, and tell you everything will be alright, and the rain can wash away as well as absolve. That the rain can fall like blood but runs clear as holy water.
Would you run then? Would you run? Be another beautiful thing that I managed to break?
I heard Sanzo once tell you that you didn't need to stay if you didn't want to...so would you flee if you knew my deepest and darkest secret?
Cho Gonou...Cho Hakkai...from the moment I was born, to the moment I too must face judgement, I love you. You're the last beautiful thing left in this wintery heart of mine, so please, stay. Don't let the rain drown you out...don't let the blood carry you away. Be mine. Be my beautiful little lie.