Saiyuki Fic, Sorrow Floats--Chapter 8--NC17

[despina_moon]

Title: Sorrow Floats, Chapter 8
Author: Despina_Moon
Pairing: Gojyo/Kanan
Summary: Gojyo has a surprising secret from his past he can no longer hide. Will it change everything in the present? Saiyuki AU. Mostly.

Many, many thanks to my beta readers, the amazing moshesque and the fabulous whymzycal. Those two have humored me and put up with months of whining and crying. I can't even begin to express my gratitude. They've made this story into something wonderful and I love them both. ♥ ♥ ♥

But I touched it last.

All right. Breathe. We're almost done.

This chapter was hard, and it had more edits than anything else, but I think it turned out all right.



If you missed it, here is Chapter 7.

Sorrow Floats
Chapter 8

Gojyo was seventeen, and this time when Kanan came to visit, it was near the end of summer. She was visiting for an extended break, and while Gojyo was cautious after her previous visit, he was hopeful, too. He'd been studying hard, both her infrequent lessons and Soshi's. This time when they met, he would ask her to stay.

Cards were good to him, and there was a very good chance that--even with Soshi's cut--Gojyo could support himself and Kanan with his gambling. He was already doing fine for himself.

All right, so maybe card playing wasn't the most glorious of professions, but it beat prostitution, bodyguard work, and drug-running by a mile.

Gojyo still went home with the occasional woman, but that was more to scratch an itch than to feed himself. He was part water sprite, after all. However, in anticipation of Kanan's visit, Gojyo hadn't slept with anyone in over a month--almost two. And once Kanan came back, the he'd no longer have a need for other partners.

The freedom Gojyo had now was one of the best things he'd ever experienced. Reliance on the ever-increasingly absent Banri was now a thing of the past. Gojyo took care of himself with the money he made through card playing. He could buy clothes and food instead of stealing them, he could read and do math, and thanks to Kanan, he was certainly smarter now. Most of all, he could look people in the eye now, and he liked that.

Leaning against one of the market buildings, he waited for her with growing anticipation.

A woman approached him, and even from a distance, he knew it was Kanan. Gojyo could feel a confidence radiating from her, and even though they'd known each other for two years, he felt as if he was seeing her for the first time. Her legs were longer, her hips rounder, and her face had thinned, making her cheekbones more prominent and her eyes even more stunning. She'd changed, leaving any telltale signs of childhood behind. Heads turned to follow her, reaffirming his opinion that she was definitely a woman now.

Gojyo was happy to see her at first, but when she got a little closer, he could tell by her walk and the determined look in her eyes what was coming. Part of him had been expecting it since their first kiss by the river, and now he knew. This was her final visit.

Instead of rushing right to Kanan's apartment like they normally would have, she wanted to take a walk by the river. In the warm evening air, Gojyo could hear the cicadas with their non-stop song and smell the marshy edges of the river. His feet seemed heavy as she talked continuously, telling him about school and her botany lessons--pure small talk, filler speak until she was ready to break the news to him.

He took her to the Tangs' restaurant for dinner, more because they wanted to see her than because he was hungry. They cheered for her news about school and then told her about Gojyo saving them and their restaurant. Kanan was surprised because he'd never told her about that. As he sat there and listened to Kanan and Mrs. Tang talk, he realized there were many things she didn't know about him now. And probably more that he didn't know about her. They'd become strangers, and it seemed they would stay that way.

Gojyo picked at his food as Mrs. Tang fretted over his lack of appetite, certain he was sick. The truth was, if he'd managed to choke anything down, chances were good it wouldn't have stayed there. When he watched Kanan ignore her food and pluck nervously at her napkin, his stomach churned. Every moment they spent at the restaurant was painful.

After dinner and during their walk home, Kanan continued her constant chatter, talking about nothing in order to avoid the inevitable, until Gojyo couldn't take it anymore.

"Kanan," he sighed tiredly, "please stop trying so hard. Just tell me you're not coming back and get it over with, okay?"

She stopped and faced him. "You knew?"

"Yeah. Since you showed up."

She shook her head. "I should've known. You've always read me better than anyone."

Kanan was already speaking of him in past tense. He scratched at an eyebrow, oddly proud of himself for understanding what past tense was. She was responsible for that; she'd made him a better person.

And now, it was over.

Reaching for his hand, she said, "Come on, I have something I have to tell you."

In her apartment, they sat at the small table, the same place where she'd given him those first reading lessons, driving him crazy with her smell and her shy innuendos. Gojyo didn't know what to do or how to react. Kanan had been his first and only love--could he say goodbye and let go? He didn't believe it was possible.

Kanan hadn't let go of his hand, and now she squeezed her fingers. "Gojyo, you have to know that it's not you."

"Oh, really? Please give me a little credit and save me from the tired old break-up lines." He felt the bitterness in his words, but he didn't feel any desire to soften it. "I'm not that much of a pathetic sap."

"No!" She swallowed hard, and he could see her blinking back tears. "That's not it. I had to tell you, face to face, because I know you. Somehow, you'd blame yourself and decide it was because of something you did or didn't do. That couldn't be further from the truth, Gojyo." Tears did flow now. "I picked him because … there just isn't a choice. You are stronger."

"What?" He blinked at her, trying to make sense of her words.

"That's the simple truth, Gojyo. You probably don't believe me, but I've never lied to you. Not about things that really mattered and not about my feelings for you." Her features twisted in grief. "You'll survive this and go on, but he … needs me more."

That's when Gojyo knew who the other man was. The one person Kanan would sacrifice the rest of the world for, even herself. Suddenly, several uncomfortable conversations they'd had during her last visit made much more sense.

Kanan was in love with her brother.

The fact that it was incestuous didn't really bother Gojyo. After all, he'd spent a large part of his early life jealous of his brother's incestuous relationship with their cruel mother. The truth of it was, no matter how hard he fought, he'd lose.

She'd fallen into Gojyo's lap while searching for her brother. She'd walked away from shelter and safety more than once to find him. Now she'd abandon Gojyo for him, too. Gojyo felt the familiar sting of helplessness wash over him, quickly followed by envy and fury at a nameless, faceless, green-eyed man. He wanted to shout and ask her how she could do such a horrible thing to him, to them.

But he didn't. He didn't want their last meeting to end in anger and pain.

She was being honest with him. Now, he'd do her the same favor. "I don't want you to go." He took her hand in both of his and stared into her eyes. "Kanan, please stay with me."

"Gojyo, please don't … you know I can't leave him."

"I want you to stay with me. Always." He squeezed her hand one last time, but he could feel her shaking. He let go, understanding that nothing he said would make any difference and knowing that all he would accomplish was to make them both feel worse than they already did. "But you already knew I wanted you to stay, didn't you?"

"Yes." Her voice cracked as she choked back a sob. "I knew. Oh God, this is so hard, and I wish I could …"

"Does he treat you well?" The words were thick and difficult to get out. He looked away from her, unable to see any more of her pain and feeling as if his heart might explode. "Does he love you?"

"Yes." She was openly crying now, tears springing from her eyes as she blinked. "And yes."

One more. His voice cracked with emotion as he forced the question through his constricting throat, "And you. Do you love him?"

"In some ways, very much so." She rubbed impatiently at her tears, and then stared at Gojyo. Understanding flickered in her eyes. "Oh, my God, you know who he is, don't you?"

Gojyo nodded. "Yeah."

"What you must think … this is such a mess." She slid to her knees on the floor in front of him and took his hands.

"Then you have to know, you have to understand, that he's the only one who could take me from you. Please tell me you know that." She stared up at him, those mesmerizing eyes pleading with him and piercing his heart.

"I know." He believed her. He had to. If he didn't, he was afraid he would lose it. "Yeah, I know."

Kanan's lover/brother loved her, and she loved him in return. Gojyo knew there were far more painful reasons for her to leave him than because she'd found another love. At least it wasn't because he was taboo or because he was a punk. It was a small consolation, and he clung to it with all his might. Her reason didn't help now, but it might later.

He sat back in his chair as she dashed away her tears. Gojyo stuffed his hurt and his devastation into a corner of his mind with all the other bad things he'd suffered through in his life. In a blink of an eye, he dropped his poker face into place and turned into the superficial, untouchable creature he was most of the time now: charming and unreadable--a card player.

Gojyo relaxed his shoulders and smiled at her. "Well, we have tonight, right?"

As she watched him, Kanan's breath caught, and then her voice cracked as she said, "Oh, don't, Gojyo …" For a moment, he thought she was going to start crying again, but instead, she blinked furiously and then sat up taller, giving him a sad smile. "Yes. We have tonight."

He stood up and offered her his hand.

She took it and rose to her feet. "But I do have one final favor to ask, if you wouldn't mind."

"Whatever you want." He meant it, because he would do anything for her.

In the morning, he was awake when she got up and dressed, but he pretended to still be asleep. They'd said all they needed to say--all they could say--with whispers and sighs and bittersweet caresses. Words were useless now and would only rip the wound wider for both of them.

He held his pretense even when she leaned over him and told him she loved him one last time, her tears falling on his cheek. He wanted to grab her, to stop her, and to keep her for himself, but he knew that wouldn't work and would only prolong their suffering. Instead, he let her go, hearing the catch of the door latch and the diminishing sounds of her footsteps on the stairs. He opened his eyes and breathed for several minutes, concentrating on a ceiling that needed a paint job while trying to hold the pieces of his heart together.

Then his concentration broke, and for the first time in many years, he cried.

When evening came, he managed to stumble into Banri's ramshackle little house. He couldn't be alone any longer or he'd go crazy. Even with someone else around, he wasn't certain he'd be able to maintain any kind of coherent thought.

Banri took one look at him and then turned to Grif. "Yo, dumbass. Go get us booze and a lot of it. S'more smokes, too."

"Why?"

"Just go, dumbfuck." Banri watched Grif leave. And then shouted after him, "Bring back some girls too, if you can."

Gojyo fell into a chair.

Banri studied him. "Dude, are ya okay? Ya look like shit."

Gojyo tried to find words, but he didn't know where to start. Besides, what could he possibly say to Banri that wouldn't end in ridicule? "Yeah, man, I'm fine. I think I just ate something that didn't agree with me."

"Well, hell!" Branri grinned at him and poured a large glass of whiskey. Handing it to Gojyo, he said, "Why didn't ya say so? A little of this will fix ya right up."

Nodding, Gojyo grasped the glass and took a long drink. Normally, he didn't really drink to excess, but tonight, it seemed appropriate. The burn in his throat felt right, and his subsequent coughing hid the tears that threatened to break free again. He threw back his head and drained the glass, welcoming the numbness spreading throughout his nerve-endings.

Banri laughed. "Look at ya go! Ya act like a guy that has a broken heart."

"Shut up, Banri!" Gojyo chucked his glass with all his might. It slammed into a wall, glass exploding and tinkling musically as it fell to the floor.

"Whoa, just chill, man. I know all about it, yer face says it all." Banri poured more whiskey into a new glass and handed it to Gojyo before refilling his own. "I take it she's not coming back this time, is she?"

Gojyo blinked his stinging eyes. "No."

Banri's voice was unnervingly soft and quiet. "Aww, shit, that sucks, dude. I'm sorry." Then he shrugged as if embarrassed and lit a cigarette. He fidgeted with the matches before he added, "I told ya she'd be bad news. The good ones always leave guys like us, and ya can't blame them, can ya? I mean, shit, what can we give 'em?"

Gojyo gagged on another large swig of whiskey and nodded. Banri was a freaking genius. Gojyo should have listened to him from the beginning. "Yeah."

"So what do ya do now? First things first, man. Get drunk, smoke, fuck, and then move out of that apartment. It'll only depress ya if ya stay there." Banri handed Gojyo a cigarette and lit another match.

Gojyo leaned in, staring at the burning paper and tobacco. The red cherry seemed to call to him, and finally he placed it to his lips and took a drag. Then he coughed. A lot. It tasted nasty, like smoldering twigs singeing his throat and catching his lungs on fire, but he kept at it. What did he care anymore? Each toke was a second off his life. He inhaled more deeply and ended in a coughing fit.

"After the party tonight, we'll move ya out." Banri gave him a grin and slapped him on his back. "You'll move in here; we'll have a blast."

Gojyo inhaled again, starting to get accustomed to the searing burn and the fact that his skull felt like it was floating. He was dizzy and nauseated as hell, well, so what. "Yeah. That sounds good."

"Fuckin' right it sounds good!" Holding up his glass as a signal for a toast, Banri nodded at Gojyo to do the same. When Gojyo lifted his glass, Banri said, "To the good girls; they really know how ta fuckin' rip out our hearts."

Gojyo felt his eyes burn with more tears, but somehow, they never spilled over. "Yeah. Maybe someday you’ll tell me your story."

Banri stared at him, a hard look full of sadness and anger. He took a long drag from his cigarette and then raised his glass again. "Maybe."

But he never did.

***

Gojyo had a good streak going, but he just wasn't into it tonight. The girls and cards were more than obliging, but he felt a burning need to be somewhere else. He gathered up his winnings, threw his jacket over his shoulder, and stepped out into the warm, humid air of the summer evening. Gojyo looked up at the heavy clouds filling the sky, knowing it would rain soon.

He was nineteen now, and while he recognized his melancholy mood, it had been a long time since he'd experienced it. Without fail, he always felt like this when he thought about Kanan. He cut his evening short and made his way home, thinking back to his time with his one and only lover. Gojyo had been so happy with her, and now he was beginning to think that was the only happiness he might ever have.

When Kanan had first left, Gojyo hadn't been able to imagine life going on normally, but it had. He continued to wake up every day. He still got hungry and had to eat, and he still had to get money to do that. Gojyo'd managed to show up to play poker a week after she'd left, and to his surprise and annoyance, the group had treated him as they always did. He stumbled through life for a month or so, dropping several pounds and forgetting to shower until Soshi got on him for being a baby.

Over the next couple of years, other things in Gojyo's had life changed. Not long after Kanan's last visit, Tero died. They'd come to consider Tero as their mascot, but the little guy had never recovered from whatever horrible thing had happened to him. One night, he went to sleep in his corner like he'd always done, and he just never woke up again. Gojyo felt that Tero's death was appropriate; there were worse ways to go other than doing something you loved.

Shortly after that, their small gang had disbanded naturally. Once they'd reached a certain age, it seemed a little silly to continue anyway. Banri had disappeared once again after a stupid attempt to extort someone of importance.

And just as the old fortune-teller had seen in her vision, Grif met his end in a bar fight, a victim of his own big mouth. Gojyo had been there that night and held his friend's hand as the former big guy took his last bloody breath. Burying his friends had gotten old fast.

Finally, in spite of his lectures about settling down, the wandering bug had once again bitten Soshi, and he'd left in a rush last summer. Of course, Masato had shown up, and Gojyo thought that had a lot to do with his poker instructor's hasty departure. Gojyo envied that friendship.

But overall, Gojyo didn't really miss them any of them. The only person he ever missed was Kanan.

Soshi had taught Gojyo card playing well enough to make it his sole source of income. Later, Gojyo had turned Banri's house into his own and--except for the very rare occasion when he brought home a girl or two--it stayed empty and quiet. He still preferred not to bring people home, and because his partners were always temporary, he usually stayed with them or rented a room instead.

He still smoked--in fact, he now he smoked like a chimney, each drag another few seconds off his life, and he was okay with that. Life was easy for him now. Too easy and far too boring.

The sky opened up, and warm summer rain came down in sheets. He thought of Kanan in the rain, her dress clinging to her like a second skin and her glorious chestnut hair sticking to her cheek and arms. He remembered taking off her sodden dress and making long, slow love to her underneath the weeping skies. The taste of her skin covered in rainwater was a flavor he'd never forget, and her gentle moans mingling with the sound of raindrops on leaves lived on in his dreams.

He still loved the rain because of her.

Initially after she'd left, he couldn't even consider what she'd told him. Every day, Gojyo kept up hope that she'd return and tell him she'd made a terrible mistake. He'd even had crazy dreams about it for a while.

Then, after a bit of time passed, he actually got angry with her. It wasn't the general badmouthing anger that Banri would spew; it was deeper and more private, like a poisoned wound growing bigger everyday. Gojyo was angry with Kanan's brother for taking her away, and angry with her for leaving. At one point, he'd decided he would go find and have it out with her brother, but then he received her final letter.

He'd only read it once, but it was still burned in his memory.

Dearest Gojyo,

I hope my letter finds you happy and well.

I think of you daily and wonder if you are continuing to expand your knowledge. None of us ever quit learning, you know.

I wanted you to know that Gonou and I have left school. We've relocated to a town where no one knows us and there are no churches, priests, or nuns. I'm working at a small flower shop, and Gonou is teaching at a nearby school. The locals haven't entirely warmed up to me as of yet; they are a rather cautious lot. I am optimistic that if I channel a bit of you, I can win them over.

I'm truly happy, Gojyo, far more than I ever thought possible. Gonou is a kind man and he treats me very well. We are quite content, and I know this is where I'm supposed to be. My only regret in this choice, strange as it is, was hurting you.

I know you--you are getting on with your life because that's the kind of man you are. You are strong and amazing, and I know you will find and bring happiness wherever you go.

I am happy, though I know I will always miss you.

All the best, forever more.

Kanan

Her letter had taken what little hope he'd had left, but he'd kept his poisonous anger. Once again, he quit eating and took drinking and whoring to a new extreme, doing exactly the opposite of what she "knew" he would do. His grief turned him into a walking skeleton, and he did it just to make a point, just to prove her wrong, just to … die, maybe.

Strangely enough, what finally shook him out of his downward spiral was a one-sided conversation from one of his nightly conquests. Without knowing the story, Suzu--yeah, that was her name--observed that the girl who'd broken Sha Gojyo's heart should be ashamed of herself for making such an emo mess of him.

He was an emo mess?

Gojyo was horrified and embarrassed when he heard the words. Kanan had given him so much. She'd taken a half-breed punk, educated him, loved him, and turned him into something else. Somehow, pissing away the skills Kanan had given him with patience and love seemed disrespectful. Yes, she'd left him, but that wasn't a reason to roll over and die. Her memory deserved better, and he decided he would try to be more worthy of her.

You are stronger.

The following night, fresh from a shower, dressed in a new gray silk shirt, and painfully sober, Gojyo said his last goodbye. Next to the river, on the same spot where he and Kanan had shared their first kiss, he lit a small pile of kindling and built it up until it was a healthy blaze. Into the hungry flames, he tossed everything he still had that reminded him of Kanan. Notes, clothing, hair bands, a spool of thread, and even the basket she'd used to carry flowers. The last thing to be fed to the flames was her final letter.

While he watched the fire consume what had been the best part of his life, he felt tears threaten to spill from his eyes. But somehow, he held them at bay. He wouldn't grieve for her anymore; he would grant her final wish: he'd be strong, get on with his life.

Gojyo sat by the fire until it died, watching the full, yellow moon drift through the night sky, and remembered the happy times as he waited for the end. When there was nothing left, he scooped up the ashes and tossed them into the river. He watched the gray remains of his memories with Kanan swirl around in the bright moon's reflection in the slow-moving water.

After all, sorrow always floats.

Once the last of the ash disappeared on the gentle current, he whispered his final goodbye, turned away, and left.

With time, he had reached a point where he didn't think about her every day, but on days like today, with the summer rain just so, well …

She was gone for good this time. Gojyo hadn't seen her in two years, but he still missed her as if she'd left yesterday. She'd chosen another man over him, but even so, and in spite of his pledge to the opposite, he nurtured a small hope in his heart that someday he'd come home and find her waiting at his front door again.

Instead, what he found today was a dead guy blocking the pathway. At least, Gojyo thought he was dead. He lifted his foot and nudged at the stiff. "Hey! Are you dead?"

There was a soft groan and then a stirring from the blood-soaked corpse. A dark-haired head raised, and youkai power-limiters glinting in the low light. Gojyo saw all of that, but what he concentrated on was the not-quite-dead guy's eyes.

They were the bright green of a lush forest, and they practically glowed in the low, gloomy light of the rainy night.

Gojyo wasn't certain it was him at first; after all, the guy he'd inexplicably brought home was a youkai. Kanan wasn't a youkai, so why would her twin brother be one? Then, as he stayed by the wounded guy's side and nursed him through his nightmare-filled fever dreams, Gojyo heard her name, saw the anguish, and managed to piece it together.

During Gonou's delirium, Gojyo grieved anew for Kanan. Sitting near the bed, he would hold Gonou's trembling hands and hear the story again, the pleas for help and the rage when none came. She was dead, and her brother and lover had traded his humanity and nearly his life in a bloody attempt to save her. Gojyo knew he would have done the same. He might not have made it as far, but he would have tried. They had that much in common.

In the end, though, after everything Gonou had done to reach her, when he'd finally found her, she had … Gojyo didn't appreciate knowing what she'd done, and for the first time since he'd practically stepped on Gonou, he felt sympathy for the guy and a smoldering anger at Kanan.

Even so, keeping the wounded man in his house was strange for Gojyo. He hadn't figured out why he hadn't let him die on the path or at least taken him to a local hospital. Gonou had stripped Gojyo of the one good thing that he'd ever had, and taking care of him defied logic. But every time he questioned what he was doing, Kanan would return to his thoughts. If he could, and in spite of how he felt, Gojyo would save Kanan's sad and broken brother. She'd want Gonou to live, and Gojyo would do it for her.

You are stronger.

He didn't feel stronger; he felt petty and weak, but even so, he took care of Gonou. Because even now, after all that had happened, he would still do anything for her.

Then Gonou regained consciousness, and something else happened. Gojyo found out that in spite of how he should've felt, he really liked the guy. In fact, in an unreasonably short amount of time, Gojyo's feelings for Gonou shifted and changed. His roommate ceased to be Kanan's brother and quickly became just Gonou.

Gonou made the little house feel like a home. Before, even when it had been bulging at the seams with people, it had never felt more than a place to party or crash. But with Gonou living there, the place had lost that lonely feeling, and now it was clean, even the floors. Eventually, it even lost the lingering remnants of the smell Kanan had always found so repulsive.

He knew he shouldn't compare; they were siblings after all, but they were they only people he'd ever been in love with. A comparison was inevitable, right? Although, when he got right down to it, they were very different. About the only thing they shared was the need for vengeance, and Gojyo just chalked that up to a Cho family trait.

The way he felt about each of them was so completely different it was hard to believe it was the same emotion. With Kanan there'd been those nasty fights and the blood-drawing make-up sex, and with Gonou there was … hot tea and someone who would listen. Was it really the same thing? Kanan had challenged him, made him want to be a better person. Gonou made him … comfortable with himself. There were times when Kanan had made him nervous and fearful, but he'd never felt that with Gonou.

Well, except when Gojyo thought the surly monk had taken Gonou to his death. That had been a rough time.

Gojyo felt a closeness with Gonou, a quiet calm, almost from the start that he'd never experienced before, not even with Kanan. It was a weird feeling--almost as if they'd known each other for an eternity.

And after Gojyo got past his initial denial of what Gonou-and later, Hakkai--meant to him, their lives fell into an easy rhythm. Gojyo still had his cards and booze, could still hook up with the occasional woman when he wanted to, and there were no promises to break. What did it matter if he always closed his eyes and imagined that the girl was Hakkai? That was a small concession if it meant keeping the best thing he'd ever had.

Most nights, though, he preferred to come home after a night of gambling. He never thought a clean house, good food, and drinking tea with Hakkai would be better than going home with some chick.

But it was better.

Oddly enough, although he was strongly attracted to Hakkai, he hadn't tried to seduce him. Gojyo thought that might have been a first for him. Of course, there was the risk that Hakkai could physically hurt Gojyo, turning any possible romantic advances into the equivalent of a relationship castration. But then, if Hakkai did refuse him, chances were good that he probably wouldn't embarrass Gojyo like that.

Maybe. He really couldn't be sure about what Hakkai might do. That was one of his many appealing qualities. Yet, it wasn't embarrassment or fear of a beat-down that made Gojyo afraid to approach Hakkai. The real issue was Kanan.

They had both loved her. Gojyo thought it was strange how their lives had intertwined; it was almost as if they'd been destined for one another from the start.

Even so, he'd never told Hakkai about Kanan. He wasn't much for talking about his past anyway, because when he was done with it, he rarely looked back. Sure, he remembered the feelings he'd had for Kanan, but those memories were for him and him alone. Spoken words would dilute his experiences and make them nothing more than cheap shadows. Besides, everything got messy when you did stuff like that.

Although, when it came to sharing his feelings about Kanan, Gojyo doubted his friend would feel the same way. He didn't even know how to start the conversation, but if their relationship went further than friendship, Gojyo promised himself that the entire truth about Kanan would need telling.

And that was why he'd never come on to Hakkai--it was all about avoidance. In spite of nights he lain awake next to his friend just to hear him breathe, in spite of sniffing Hakkai's clothes when no one was looking, and in spite of his frequent wet dreams with Hakkai as the star, he'd never acted on his desire. Besides, he liked where things stood with Hakkai. He was comfortable.

That is, if by comfortable he meant "sexually frustrated."

All right, if Gojyo was honest with himself, he really did want more of Hakkai. And yeah, maybe the clothes-sniffing thing should have tipped him off, but at this point, he was pretty sure avoidance and fear had skewed his logic. Not to mention the fact that he was a big chicken.

For a while, Gojyo hoped they could maintain their relationship as friends. Sure, he dreamed about sleeping with Hakkai, but Gojyo was never one to force his affections on someone else. While Hakkai was content with being friends, they were safe. But then, Gojyo could see his roommate's attitude toward him start to change, and there were times he caught Hakkai watching him. He knew he would not be able to resist if Hakkai ever pressed the issue. Gojyo had even started to bring it up a time or two, but then he would remember Kanan.

It started to feel like every day contained an element of danger for Gojyo. Their relationship was getting more intense, and every day there was the risk of crossing the line from friends to lovers. Every day he worried that he might ruin what he had because Hakkai had found out about Kanan from someone other than him. Every day, Gojyo promised himself today was the day he would sit Hakkai down and tell him. And every day, he would talk himself out of it. Already there'd been hundreds of perfect moments and an equal number of missed opportunities.

Ironically, Kanan had inadvertently brought them together and, at the same time, her memory was what kept them apart.

When the day finally came, Gojyo wasn't very surprised. They'd been sitting in their room after several days of travel, having tea and discussing how much more they enjoyed sparing with Kougaijii's bunch over dealing with Hazel. Gojyo'd been politely laughing over one of his roommate's corny jokes when suddenly, Hakkai had leaned over and kissed him.

Although his heart was banging in his chest, Gojyo hadn't responded to the kiss. He'd simply made some lame excuse, bashed his knee on the table as he stood up, and walked out the door. Outside their room, he'd let the panic and fear wash over him in waves and he'd slumped against a wall.

Kanan. Hakkai. Standing in the hall, still reeling from Hakkai's kiss, he tried to remember why he'd decided he had to tell. Why? He'd tried to talk himself out of it right then and there. Gojyo even took two steps back toward the room while he considered that Hakkai might never find out. But he didn't believe that for a second. Hakkai would find out, and when he did, how would he react to a Gojyo who hadn't been honest with him?

Gojyo shivered. He knew how Hakkai would react.

Hakkai. Kanan. He had to tell. If he didn't, there would always be that secret--what did Hakkai call it?--oh yeah, lying by omission. Fucking Hakkai. He loved the crazy, psycho bastard with all his heart, possibly even more than he'd loved Kanan.

Maybe that old crackpot fortune-teller had been right that day, so long ago, at the Ox festival. Hadn't she said the one he would love hadn't arrived yet? Of course, he'd also been high as a kite at the time so she might have said something completely different.

Gojyo'd pushed away from the wall then, stumbling toward the stairs and running smack into Sanzo.

"Dumbass kappa," Sanzo growled as he recovered from nearly falling backwards down the stairwell.

"That's what you get for sneaking up on people, shitty monk."

Sanzo stared at him and then glanced at his and Hakkai's room door. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at Gojyo and asked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. What's it matter to you, anyway?" Gojyo scowled and pushed passed the surly bastard . "I need a drink."

"Tch."

Gojyo could feel Sanzo's eyes on him as he stomped down the stairs and into the bar. He was still there drinking when Sanzo showed up two hours later.

***