Tomorrow - PG-13 (9th Challenge)
Title: Tomorrow
Author: Lauand
Beta: Purpleicicles
Pairing: Gojyo/Hakkai
Warnings: Worksafe
Prompt: Magic - 1h
A/N: Written in 1:15h. Fantasy AU. Every infringement to canon (and there are many) is intentional and justified (in my eyes, I mean) by the AU setting. As always, concrit welcome. Thank you very much to
purpleiciclesfor the fast beta-ing and
opalmatrix for the helpful comments.
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“Sweet Goddess of Mercy, if I get out of this, I swear I’ll never steal a single scrap of bread in my whole life.”
With that fervently whispered prayer, Gojyo jerked the chain once more. Unfortunately, the shackles remained firmly attached to the pole.
He would have thought that a wooden post in the middle of nowhere would be rotten enough to give way after a couple of well-placed kicks, but wooden posts in the middle of nowhere were proving to be shockingly sturdier than most of the shabby dungeons he had gotten his ass in before. Ironies of life. The bastards had fixed the shackles to the pole with some huge bolts someplace over his head, so he didn’t have enough leverage to pull properly. He couldn’t reach the picklocks in his left boot, either, he had already tried. Gojyo decided that sometimes, life sucked.
He had no intention of dying attached to a fucking stick in the ass of the world, so he started to perform acrobatics to get upside down, climbing the pole awkwardly to get his boot in the vicinity of his hands. It hurt like fuck in the wrists, but he supposed dying of starvation and thirst would hurt more.
When he was halfway up, he spotted in the corner of his eye a figure on the road. For some reason, he didn’t want to be caught in what surely would look like humping a pole, so he aborted the attempt and instead observed the oncoming traveller.
They were too far away to see anything but some flowing robes and a walking staff. In Gojyo’s experience, that usually meant ‘wizard’. He didn’t have to concentrate to see the traveller’s aura, it kind of screamed on its own. As a half-demon, he had some sensitivity to mystical energies, but not enough power to use them. Being a half-breed sucked in every possible way, always getting the worst of each world.
The aura surrounding the mage was extensive and black, swirling with hatred and dense with determination. The man was clearly pissed. Gojyo pondered if it was a good thing that the stranger had to walk past him in his way down the road. He eyed his shackles and then the nearing wizard. He decided that no, it wasn’t a good thing.
The figure was closer now; the traveller walked pretty fast. Concluding that he was fucked anyway, Gojyo spoke up when he thought the mage was near enough to hear him.
“Hey, you! Wizard! Lend me a hand, will you!?”
As expected, the stranger didn’t reply, he just kept on walking, getting nearer and nearer.
“Hey!” Gojyo tried restlessly to get closer to the path to block the wizard’s way but the chains weren’t that long.
The stranger with the glooming aura reached the point of the road where Gojyo’s post was and surpassed it, not even glancing at him. He looked young. Young, and sad, and angry, and a little bit murdering in Gojyo’s humble opinion. He wore a monocle and a little white dragon rode his shoulder.
Jerking his chains again, making them rattle, Gojyo gave it a last, desperate try and pleaded after the mage.
“Hey, man! Today for me, tomorrow for you!”
Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. The wizard neither paused nor shouted, but the grave reply reached Gojyo’s ears anyway.
“There will be no tomorrow.”
Gojyo frowned. Ignoring the instincts that were telling him to kindly shut his trap and try to climb the pole later, when no crazy wizards with murderous auras were in the area, he answered back. It wasn’t as if he could make it much worse.
“There’s always tomorrow.”
That made the traveller stop. He didn’t turn back, just stood there, gripping his staff tight, dark energies whirling like hateful smoke, ever moving, in stark contrast with the stillness of the man in their midst.
“Not for me.”
With that, the stranger started his way again, walking away from a chained up, pissed off Gojyo.
Like a spoiled child, Gojyo felt the urge to give a comeback to that, angry with a man who didn’t appreciate his own freedom. His own life.
“But I want one.”
Gojyo hadn’t been loud, and there was the faintest hint of a pout in his words, but the wizard apparently heard; he halted and turned partially to look at Gojyo as though he were seeing him for the first time.
Gojyo noticed even at that distance that the man’s eyes were very green.
Without a word, the wizard made a subtle gesture with his hand and Gojyo’s shackles opened suddenly, letting the numb arms fall unkindly to the thief’s sides. Gojyo shrieked at the abrupt, piercing pain in his shoulders, but he was too happy, too free to complain.
He started to yell his thanks to the stranger, but the wizard’s figure was already a long way down the road. He hadn’t looked the type to want any thanks, anyway.
He watched both man and aura as they faded in the distance. Then, grinning crookedly, he looked up at the Heavens and remarked.
“Hey, Goddess, you know that was only a manner of speaking, yeah?”
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It hadn’t been a bad night. Gojyo wasn’t stupid, he wouldn’t go back to the accursed town where they had caught him stealing and left him chained to a post to rot. But one had to eat and the continent was full of other towns, so he had arrived to a large village to the south and earned his dinner palming cards. That until a pretty, air-headed chick had commented on his unusual hair colour and he had been forced to leave before anyone could catch on what it meant. Which sucked, because it was raining and it was a long way to the old, abandoned farm where he was making his bed lately. At least his moneybag (and his stomach) was full again…
He slowed the pace when he saw a dark bundle in the side of the road. If it was a discarded cloak and it didn’t have too many holes in it, maybe he could give it some use.
When he got near, he felt something in the periphery of his senses. The bundle wasn’t a cloak. The bundle was alive.
Gojyo heard a soft squeak and spotted a white little head coming out from the dark lump. Oh, Gods, it was… Gojyo nudged the body gently to flip it over. He hadn’t recognized the aura, now too weak and dyed in red and guilt, but he recognized the man; the weird monocle, the soaked robes, the green, green eyes. The staff was missing, but in turn, a big, brand new hole in the wizard’s belly saluted him. Gojyo was pretty sure that intestines hadn’t been created to be shown like that.
Careful, Gojyo knelt down and tried to gather the wet wizard in his arms. The man was fucking cold.
Strangely enough (creepily enough, rather), the green eyes seemed amused. Gojyo couldn’t catch the joke in this, but he refrained from commenting, just picked the man up. The little dragon squeaked once more and flew to perch himself on Gojyo’s shoulder. Gojyo just hoped it hadn’t been the little beast that had opened his owner’s belly in a fit of hunger or something.
Rain and blood soaked Gojyo’s tunic. This was the weirdest thing he had done ever. And it wasn’t as if he had had a conventional, boring life.
The wizard was still smiling, a spark of laughter (or probably fever) in his bright eyes. With that low, breathy voice of his that got itself listened to, no matter how faintly it was whispered, he asked.
“Is it tomorrow, then?”
Maybe the creepiness was infectious, because Gojyo couldn’t help a crooked smile. He gripped the wizard tighter and answered.
“Yeah.”
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