Author: Mosh Note: You may not archive, re-post, or alter any of my stories without my permission. Please contact me first. Thanks! |
“Well I’ll be damned, if it isn’t the precious youkai prince himself.” A
flip-lid lighter rose to ignite the end of an already half-smoked, hand-rolled
cigarette. Doku’s younger brother blew out a thin trail of smoke that evaporated
on the cool air wafting around the door. The scent assaulted Kougaiji’s senses
and he resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The occupants of the room were utterly silent. The cabin creaked, candles flickering as a draft spilled in through the open window, flames casting dancing shadows over the rickety mahjong table that had been set up in the centre of the room. Outside, the wind howled as it picked up a notch, clanging wooden chimes together on the veranda, rustling the vegetation in the surrounding forest. It was Gojyo who spoke first. “You’re tryin’ to tell us you’re a deserter now?” He huffed, shaking his head. “I call serious bullshit.” Kougaiji ignored him and looked at Sanzo again. Together, they engaged in a silent observation of each other that the prince hoped would reveal he was telling the truth. As much as he disliked Sanzo and his posse, Kougaiji couldn’t deny the man was highly perceptive. “I dunno,” said Goku, taking a bite of the apple he had raised to his lips. When he next spoke, it was around his mouthful. “I think he’s tellin’ the truth. Sanzo?” Sanzo didn’t blink or look up, but he muttered “Quiet,” to Goku, then asked Kougaiji, “And where are your two lackeys tonight?” “Dokugakuji and Yaone are outside right now,” Kougaiji admitted, glancing between the four men. The air in the cabin was starting to grate in his lungs from Sanzo and Gojyo’s combined cigarette smoke, but Kougaiji resisted clearing his throat. He wondered how the other two put up with it. “I decided it would be less threatening if I came in here alone.” Looking towards the window, he imagined his friends waiting outside for him, ready to alert him if there was any sign of trouble. “I can call them in if you would like.” “What’s to say they’re not out there setting up traps for us right now?” Gojyo accused, frowning at him. “Why the heck should we trust a damn word you say?” “Nothing says that’s not what they’re doing,” Kougaiji said calmly. “And there’s no reason for you to trust me. I suppose this is something you’ll have to work out yourselves. One thing I will say though - there’s not much time.” “I don’t imagine there is,” agreed Hakkai, taking a sip from his tankard and then setting it on the windowsill. “If you truly have fled Houtou castle as an outlaw, prince or not, you must be an extremely wanted man.” Don’t I know it, Kougaiji thought sourly, his left hand itching to go to his shoulder where claw marks from a recent brawl were still irritating his skin. “It wasn’t an easy journey getting here,” he finally said, though he didn’t mention that they had purposefully travelled under the cloak of night, nor that they had used capes and scarves when passing through villages and towns. Even then, they’d been attacked by bandits and bounty hunters, narrowly escaping with their lives after a couple of the larger confrontations. The Sanzo-ikkou were about six days from Houtou on foot. Kougaiji knew this because his dragons had been killed shortly after his plan had been discovered, no doubt in an attempt at sealing him in the castle for slaughter shortly afterwards. He could still picture the glint of torchlight off spectacle lenses; Nii Jienyi’s grin had been sharp and unforgiving in the shadows. The malicious delight evident in that grin had been underscored by Dokugakuji’s loud curses as he yelled for Yaone, hollered for them all to get out of the castle before Nii was given the chance to alert Gyokumen Koushu. If it hadn’t been for the secret tunnel that ran under the kitchens, Kougaiji was certain he, Doku and Yaone would be in a lot of trouble right now, if not dead already. Dead, there would be no hope for the plan. The extremely short-notice plan that, no matter how Kougaiji looked at it, seemed his only feasible option right now, as angry as that made him. “Tell me,” Sanzo asked as he leaned back in his chair, his newspaper settled on his lap, momentarily forgotten. “What’s the bounty on your head?” Immediately, Kougaiji knew this was a test. “Anything,” he answered truthfully. There was no time to play word games. “Anything?” Sanzo repeated, raising a pale eyebrow. “Anything at all? So, the lucky youkai who kills you will be more or less set for life.” “And probably his or her children’s lives,” Hakkai added, staring down at the table with a strange, unamused smile ghosting his pale face. Kougaiji snorted softly. “That is, if my stepmother’s reward can be trusted. It’s possible she’ll simply kill the killer. It’s what she does - she doesn’t like parting with her toys and she makes no bones about playing dirty.” “Whoa, your mum sounds kinda mean.” Goku was looking at him with wide-eyes. Kougaiji’s mouth quirked bitterly. “You have no idea.” A moment of silence passed, during which the Sanzo-ikkou exchanged glances and Kougaiji waited, trying not to let anxiety seep into his veins. An owl called from far off in the forest outside, reminding him once again that his friends were out there, waiting for word, keeping watch. It was already dangerous enough being near these four men, let alone being hunted with just as much malice and intent that was reserved for Sanzo and his group. Suddenly, Sanzo folded up his newspaper and tossed it onto the mahjong table. Tiles scattered over the edges and clattered onto the floorboards, but none of the men seemed particularly interested, all eyes on the monk. “You’d better start talking,” he said to Kougaiji. “Call your companions in. Goku, get some more chairs.” Kougaiji nodded curtly and rose to his feet, letting out a long, silent breath. Kougaiji wasn’t sure what time it was when they finally came to an agreement, but the moon was fat and full, high in the sky outside. His tongue tasted sweet, of the mead Hakkai supplied them with. Yaone was on her second mug and a high blush had risen in her cheeks. Doku looked comfortable enough, though his gaze kept wandering to his younger brother, as if he wanted to speak to him. The Sanzo-ikkou were good to travel straight away, for which Kougaiji was grateful. Their flexibility meant he could get back to the castle as soon as possible, though he knew they would have to be careful the closer to Houtou they got. After packing up their few possessions, extinguishing the candles and lamps, and coaxing the small dragon Hakuryuu out of slumber, the two groups headed outside to begin the last perilous leg of the journey. Kougaiji reminded himself that they hadn’t reformed as one whole, but were simply there to lend talents and strength, to compliment each other when it counted. Pooled resources would hopefully result in victory, or at the very least stop what needed to be stopped long enough for him to retrieve what had been stolen from him. He thought of his sister’s laughter, how bright and warm she was - so much brighter and warmer than Kougaiji had ever been - beaming with optimism and enthusiasm. He clenched his fists at his sides, but then he felt Doku’s firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing quickly before letting go. Everything was communicated in that one small gesture and Kougaiji reminded himself that he wasn’t alone, that Doku and Yaone felt the same. Like this, with the Sanzo-ikkou behind them, they stood a fighting chance. As soon as Kougaiji opened the door, he could sense something was off - the atmosphere was far too bated. A heartbeat later, a high-pitched whistle rang out and he only just managed to stop the arrow that came hurtling towards him, catching the stick between his hands. The tip was black with poison, hovering centimetres from his face. “Ambush, get down!” Doku shouted from behind, as youkai after youkai materialised from the shadowed trees surrounding the cabin. “It’s no good holing up here,” Kougaiji hissed over his shoulder, stabbing the arrow into the ground where the poison could do no damage. “They’ll set the place on fire.” “Head around back,” said Sanzo, his gun already out and pointed at the moving shadows ahead. “Find a way out. Shit, I really don’t have fucking patience for this.” “I’ll go,” Yaone said, looking around quickly and then sprinting toward the side of the building as Sanzo opened fire. “Goku, please accompany Yaone-san. Look for an opening through the trees,” Hakkai said, gathering a glowing ball of chi at his fingertips. His dragon flapped up in the air, squealing alerts left and right, then darted off with Goku as he, too, darted around the cabin. More figures were stepping into the clearing now, giving off thick waves of hatred and vicious intent. Kougaiji could hear them muttering to each other, figuring out who was going to take on whom. He heard his own name mentioned countless times - they called him the scorned prince, the traitor; Gyokumen Koushu’s foul lies were evident in their threats and in their greed. “Heh, looks like you’re even more unpopular than us, man.” He hadn’t noticed Gojyo moving to crouch beside him. As Kougaiji turned to face him, he picked up the odour of smoke on Gojyo’s clothes and hair, and faintly underlying that a fresh masculine sweat. Gojyo clutched a long silver shakujo in his fists, the curved blade glinting in the moonlight. Kougaiji realised this would be the first time he’d fight alongside the Sanzo-ikkou. He couldn’t deny at that moment the thought put him more at ease. “They’re really not happy with you,” Gojyo added unhelpfully. “Well done for stating the obvious,” Kougaiji retorted. “Really, Gojyo,” said Hakkai, shooting off a blast of chi at one of the nearest approaching figures. “Now’s not the time for idle chit-chat.” “Che!” Gojyo muttered. “Says the guy who can hold a polite conversation and find ways of keeping his clothes from getting creased when he’s in a fight.” “If you bastards don’t shut the-” Bang! “-hell up I swear I’m gonna-” Bang! “-shoot you myself. Now get fucking moving!” With that, Sanzo rushed forward, gun blazing, his white linen robes swirling at his ankles. Then the youkai charged. After that, it was hard to tell how many went down. Kougaiji remembered calling on his daemons until his hands shook, until his voice trembled, until his energy fizzed wearily to nothing. Then there was the blood, everywhere, making the forest floor slippery and stink of death. Bodies littered the ground like grotesque stepping stones and more than once Kougaiji almost lost his footing. Sanzo’s gunshots had ceased a while ago, though Kougaiji had no idea whether that meant he’d been injured or found a way out. As for the others, there was no sign of them. No sounds floated out of the eerie shadows apart from the natural noises of the trees, animals snuffling for food in the darkness. No light was apparent but for the moon’s steely glow, the only other witness to the carnage. Kougaiji couldn’t even tell how far he’d come from the cabin; he was having a hard time remaining on his feet, exhausted from battle and disorientated under the blanket of night. At this point he only had one choice and that was to keep moving, lest there were still bounty hunters on their way from Houtou vying for his blood. He just hoped Dokugakuji had reached Yaone and they were both safe. He couldn’t lose them as much as he couldn’t lose his baby sister. A branch snapped up ahead and every nerve in Kougaiji’s body became sharp, finely tuned to the disturbance. He cocked his head, slowing his breathing as best he could. There - that was definitely a rustling. Something was making its way towards him, traipsing through the dark thicket. Kougaiji knew he didn’t have much energy left to fight with, but he reached for his last well of strength, slipping behind a tree trunk to conceal himself. He would fight hand-to-hand if he had to, anything to get out of this alive in order to make it back to the castle. Unsteady footsteps were distinct, beat after beat against the hard forest floor as they closed in, more branches snapping, pine cones crunching under foot. It was definitely a person. Kougaiji couldn’t sense any hostility, but he wasn’t willing to risk stepping out into the open, not in his current state - it could be a youkai searching for him, or rather, searching for his dead body that could then be decapitated and presented to Gyokumen Koushu. The footsteps were very close now, almost at the tree he was hiding behind. As they passed, Kougaiji sprang forward, putting all his weight into his lunge and hoping it was enough. “Goddamn fuck!” growled a voice - a familiar voice - as Kougaiji collided with the prowler. Only, he realised too late who it was. “Ah, fuck!” A fist came up hard and for a second Kougaiji saw nothing but white; he fell back under the impact, his claws slipping from the shoulder they’d been embedded in. “Sha Gojyo,” he growled, as he felt the weight of a body land on top of him, a knee pressing into his chest and hands pinning his wrists to the ground. “Eh? Kougaiji?” Gojyo sounded perplexed. Then, in a decidedly more frustrated tone, “Huh, just my luck I’d run into you, though I guess it’s better than running into the shitty monk. And would you watch where you stick those fucking talons of yours? Jeez, man, that fucking kills!” “Get off me,” Kougaiji grated, lying perfectly still while Gojyo complained, the hanyou’s mouth hovering close to Kougaiji’s cheek, his breath smoky and hot. The knee that’d been pressing into Kougaiji’s chest gradually eased up. Finally, Gojyo found his footing and rose. “You seen the others?” “No.” As Kougaiji got to his feet, he brushed dirt and pine needles from his coat. His ribs ached and he could feel a numbing throb at his side, but it wasn’t the time to think about his injuries. “Shit, then they could still be under attack. We gotta get movin’.” “Fine, if you know the way back.” There was a pause. Gojyo’s face was ghostly pale in the moonlight, his hair like dark blood spilling over his shoulders in rivulets. He blinked a few times. “Well, damn,” he finally muttered. Disheartened, Kougaiji looked around the forest, the trees high above silver-topped under the moon. “I’m not walking around this forest all night when the others could be out and on their way to Houtou already. I suggest we head west from here.” Gojyo glanced up at the sky, drawing something small and square out of his jacket pocket. He sighed, flipping the lid of the square packet, then tapped a cigarette out, catching it between his lips. “I guess. Looking at those clouds over there, it’ll probably rain.” The cigarette bobbed as he spoke and he lowered his eyes to Kougaiji, lighting the tip. The rich orange flame set the red of his eyes aglow like embers in a fire. Gojyo took a deep draw that pained Kougaiji just to watch. “Better stick close, oujisama. Don’t wanna get that pretty face of yours all messed up.” Kougaiji glared at him, glad for the darkness that concealed the heat staining his face. “Don’t patronise me.” Gojyo whistled irritatingly. “Easy there, I was just kiddin’.” He winked, turning on his heel and heading in the direction he’d just come. “You know, you remind me a bit of that blond monk,” he threw over his shoulder. “I hope you’re not gonna be as much of a pain in the ass as him, or I might be better off alone.” “Fine,” said Kougaiji, “I’ll go another way.” He started to take a south-westerly path, pushing aside long growing vines and sap-damp branches. “Oy, oy,” Gojyo called after a moment. “Don’t you think it’s a bit pointless takin’ a longer way when I’ve already trodden this one in?” He gestured to the way he’d previously walked. Kougaiji had the distinct impression he was using that as an excuse, but his injuries ached too much to argue or care which way they took right then. “No more comments comparing me to Sanzo,” he warned, as he diverted and rejoined Gojyo. “Or anyone else for that matter. I want to find the others and get this done.” “I’m right with you, man.” How Gojyo could sound so incredulous, as if he hadn’t just insulted a prince, Kougaiji didn’t know. Stuffing his hands unceremoniously into his jeans pockets, Gojyo offered a bold grin and then walked on, his shoulders hunched a little. Kougaiji, chagrined and growing increasingly concerned about his friends, could only head in the same direction. “It’s human.” “How can you tell from this far off?” “… I just know.” “If you were anyone else, I’d say the fact it was human was a good thing.” Gojyo lit up another cigarette. Kougaiji had lost count of how many he’d managed to get through during the trek through the forest, but he could imagine the hanyou’s lungs slowly turning rotten inside. Disgusting. The moon was still high, but its light kept fading in and out as dark clouds gathered above, coagulating to create one big storm cloud. Soon, a light drizzle started to fall - the kind that seemed to make a person damp from the inside, working into the bones and bringing out the chills. Kougaiji looked down on the small human town from where they were standing on a ridging hilltop at the mouth of the forest, its lights scattered in a careless pattern like an uncharted constellation. “We’ll keep walking,” Kougaiji said, figuring there was no other option. A youkai wouldn’t be accepted too favourably in a human dwelling, let alone a youkai prince. Kougaiji had his coat, but it had no hood to conceal his face. Even if it did, he wouldn’t stop in a town like this, wouldn’t beg bandages for his wounds, or food, or shelter from the rain. Gojyo shook his head. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me, man. No way - I’m knackered, sore, hungry, and I want a beer. It’s about to piss on our heads, in case you hadn’t noticed.” He pointed up at the tenebrous clouds above. “So, we’re going to that town to find a pub or inn or something.” He paused, his gaze sliding down Kougaiji’s front to where his coat was torn, the rip stained with blood. Kougaiji’s blood. “We’ll have to patch that up, too.” “It’s fine, the bleeding’s stopped.” It wasn’t like he hadn’t had worse. Gojyo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, fine until the next time we get attacked, then it’ll open right up. With any luck it might go septic - now that’ll be a barrel of laughs, let me tell you.” Kougaiji stared at him sceptically, wondering why this man he didn’t know, who had up until a few hours ago been a sworn enemy, was suggesting he tend to his wounds. Why would a man like Gojyo care at all? “Before you say it, I ain’t worried about you, but I’m pretty sure Jien - sorry, Dokugakuji - would lamp me in the head for lettin’ his good buddy the prince end up with gangrene or some nasty shit like that.” Kougaiji frowned at him, annoyed that the hanyou had a point. Nevertheless, he opened his mouth to tell Gojyo to keep out of his business, when Gojyo suddenly exclaimed. “Oh! Wait up.” He took a long drag on his cigarette and then perched the thin white stick between his lips, rifling around his coat pocket for something. Gojyo drew out his fist and turned it up, opening his fingers and extending his hand to Kougaiji. Warily, Kougaiji stepped closer and inspected the offering. Three small folds of metal - possibly silver, not particularly attractive. After a second, he started picking up the barest hints of magic, radiating up from the small clips. “Enchanted.” Kougaiji frowned. “Wait a moment, are these…?” “Yeah, yeah, don’t make a big thing - I carry a spare set for Hakkai,” said Gojyo nonchalantly. Kougaiji looked up at him from under his eyebrows. “What? He sometimes loses them in battle, ‘s all.” “I don’t care why you have them,” Kougaiji answered, straightening up and determinedly not looking at the limiters. “It’s that you expect me to put them on.” “Ohh, I see. Too good for a high and mighty youkai oujisama like you to look human, eh?” Gojyo’s mouth hardened and he tossed his cigarette on the floor, three-quarters smoked. “Listen up, I’m not tellin’ you to put these on to laugh at you. I really don’t give a shit what you look like. This is so you can get patched up and we can get a fucking move on when the storm passes over.” “I’m not going to hide what I am.” “Says the guy who came to find Sanzo wearing cloaks and scarves,” Gojyo retorted. “What’s the betting you travelled on back roads and dodged in and out of bushes every time you heard people nearby?” Kougaiji bristled; not because of what Gojyo had said, but because it was true. Damn him, that was the second time tonight. Kougaiji was not a coward. Reaching the Sanzo-ikkou as quickly as possible had been paramount. The only way they’d accomplished it was by dodging attacks and confrontations from bounty hunters and bandits alike. Kougaiji hated having to be so cautious, having to hide and sneak around like a common thief. However, he was well aware there was something far more important on the line than his pride. That very something was the reason he’d left Houtou in the manner he did, after all. Keeping that in mind, Kougaiji reluctantly took the limiters from Gojyo, trying not to think too much about what he was about to do. He had never felt uncomfortable with who he was, not until the comforts he had been afforded due to his status as Gyumaoh’s son and heir were stripped from him. He was now nothing more than a dog being hunted down, chased across India in the name of blood money, when all he wanted to do was go back to Houtou and finish his business, his title and status be damned. The irony of walking back home and into the arms of the enemy was not lost on him. Kougaiji was aware of Gojyo’s eyes on him as he slipped one metal cuff over his ear, mimicking the style Cho Hakkai wore. Immediately, he was roughly yanked from within, a wrenching pull in his gut that almost sent him off-balance. He panicked for a second and nearly dropped the other two limiters, not expecting such a fierce, dizzying rush. “You okay? Shit, could those things be faulty?” “I’m fine,” Kougaiji grated, swallowing and adding another clip. The pull came again, lighter than before but it still shook him, made him feel like he was closing in on himself, that his skin was becoming too small and tight to accommodate the rest of his body. The third limiter clipped into place and Kougaiji closed his eyes, breathing slowly and evenly as the discomfort started to subside. When he felt more or less back to normal, he opened his eyes, to find Gojyo staring at him with a strange look on his face. “What is it?” he asked defensively, holding his hands up and studying them. They appeared human, with short, thin fingernails and no markings on the skin. “Did they work?” Gojyo blinked slowly, still staring. It was highly off-putting and Kougaiji tried not to squirm under the unusual scrutiny. “Nothing. It worked fine. ‘S just…” Gojyo paused, reaching up and scratching the back of his head. “Weird, seein’ you like that.” He bit his lip briefly, gaze finally rising to meet Kougaiji’s. “Let’s get going, before this pissy rain turns into an all-out downpour.” Slightly unnerved by Gojyo’s reaction, Kougaiji turned and started to descend the hill, not looking back. Gojyo caught up after a moment, and soon they entered the town from the eastern side, heading straight down the widest street. Shops had closed up long ago, their shutters drawn down and doorsteps darkened, but there was a building up ahead that was showing signs of life. A large hand painted sign hung over the building’s canopy, reading ‘The Back Door’. Kougaiji had no clue whether that was significant - he rarely passed through human dwellings, and even then he never stopped long enough to give these things much thought. “Now this looks more like it.” Gojyo strolled up to the door as if he owned the place. Rather than being abandoned out on the street looking lost, Kougaiji grudgingly decided his best option was to trail after him. As soon as he entered the building, Kougaiji noted it was one of the places Gojyo had mentioned - a pub or inn. When his eyes caught on a large chalkboard listing room prices, he realised it was the latter. The second thing that struck him was the dizzying aroma of smoke, old wood, and alcohol. He glanced around, half expecting the current patrons - of which there were only a handful - to react to his presence. It wasn’t often Kougaiji could walk into a room unnoticed, or without someone bending to their knee. Apart from a few cursory glances by a table of men playing cards nearby, nobody batted an eyelid. Regardless, Kougaiji found himself pulling his coat collar up high around his chin. His shorter nails were taking some getting used to and the material of his collar rubbed at the back of his bared neck where his long hair normally rested. He ran his fingertips through the close-cropped strands, wondering how much Nii Jienyi would laugh at him if he could see Kougaiji now. He clenched his fists, taking a deep breath to calm the sudden furious thoughts that flashed though his mind. It wasn’t a good idea to think about the scientist right now, since Kougaiji was still many miles from the castle. He would deal with Nii as soon as he got back. Instead, he headed to the bar, which Gojyo had made a direct beeline for and was currently propped against, a tankard of what was no doubt beer already cradled in his hands. He was chatting to a young lady who Kougaiji assumed worked there, since she was polishing an empty jug with a dish rag. “… and we just need a couple of hours to get patched up, but maybe afterwards I can tempt you to have a little nightcap with me.” The tone of Gojyo’s voice had changed, slightly lower, smoother, like he hadn’t just smoked a packet of twenty cigarettes in the space of two hours. Kougaiji joined him at the bar and looked sideways at him, to which Gojyo cleared his throat and reverted to normal. “Yeah, so if that’s all right with you, we’d really appreciate it. My brother here’s awful prone to fainting spells when he catches a chill, aren’t you, oniichan.” Glaring daggers, Kougaiji grated, “Though they’re not quite as frequent as your sudden bouts of dysentery, otootosan.” Gojyo’s smirk slipped from his face like a lead weight, to which Kougaiji felt inordinately pleased. The girl behind the bar blushed profusely, sliding a small silver key across the scarred wooden surface. “I’ll get in so much trouble if my uncle finds out.” She bit her lower lip, looking between them. Her gaze lingered on Kougaiji for a little longer than he found comfortable, and he was momentarily struck with the irrational thought that she could see through the limiters’ glamour. “You will be quiet, won’t you, and not break anything?” she added. Bowing, Gojyo flashed her a smile that was all charm. “You have our very honourable words, little lady.” Kougaiji resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The girl retreated to a door behind the bar and disappeared through it. A few moments later she reappeared laden with a large first aid kit and a small brown bottle of antiseptic oil. Handing both to Gojyo, her gaze once again slid to meet Kougaiji’s, before she quickly looked away, her cheeks still dusted pink. With a wink and a “Thanks, gorgeous,” Gojyo hitched the first aid kit under one arm, picked up his beer, and wandered towards a door at the back of the room. “You coming or what, oniichan?” he called over his shoulder. Kougaiji could hear the smirk in Gojyo’s tone, he didn’t have to see it. Growling low under his breath, he followed, silently resolving not to strangle the hanyou if he could help it. “She had the hots for you, man,” Gojyo commented as he slid the key into door 13. He pushed on the handle with his hip, his other free hand occupied with his beer tankard. “What are you talking about?” Kougaiji asked him, frowning as he crossed the threshold. The room was small, grotty, and very basic, with a plain wooden double bed, its faded pink floral cover pulled up over the mattress. There was a small empty fireplace and bucket of logs next to it, as well as a round wooden table, two high-backed chairs, and a wash basin set on a stand in one corner. Gojyo tossed the key onto the table and pulled out a chair. “I’m just sayin’, if you were to stay here, you wouldn’t have to sleep alone if you didn’t want to.” He grinned up at Kougaiji, setting the first aid kit down and gesturing for Kougaiji to take the seat across from him. “Come on, man, you can’t tell me you’re that freaking coy. You gotta have ladies swarming to get into your pants, what with bein’ royalty and all.” Kougaiji didn’t like where the conversation was heading. In fact, he didn’t like that they were having ridiculous conversations like this at all. He hated even more the way Gojyo could make him feel more lost than he already was, remind him just how much he was currently floundering out of his element. There were too many important things at stake and he couldn’t help but think they were wasting time. As the thought struck, a barrel of thunder rolled across the sky outside. Fat raindrops started to plink against the windowpane, steadily getting heavier. In the distance, Kougaiji could see the clouds lighting up, flickering rapidly. The storm Gojyo had anticipated was finally here. “That’s ridiculous,” he stated plainly. “Just drop it.” He did not meet Gojyo’s gaze as he settled on the offered chair, already certain he’d see teasing amusement within the dark red irises. Still, he couldn’t deny dealing with Gojyo was preferable to being stuck outside in torrential rain, the storm now raging above the inn. Folding his arms over his chest, Kougaiji finally glanced up. Gojyo was staring at him with one eyebrow slightly raised, some of the mischief diminishing from his face at Kougaiji’s unimpressed expression. “Fine, fine,” Gojyo relented. “But if you change your mind and decide you want to invite the cutie upstairs, just let me know. I can make myself scarce.” With that, he started to unpack the first aid kit, setting bandages on the tabletop next to the bottle of oil. “Take your coat off.” “What-” Kougaiji started, then stopped, remembering what Gojyo had said on the hill. The indignant part of him almost told Gojyo where to go, but he knew it made sense to see to his wounds while there was the chance. Who knew what would happen when they reached Houtou. Unbuttoning his coat, Kougaiji slipped the thick white denim over his shoulders and arms, settling it over the back of his chair. Gojyo uncapped the bottle of antiseptic and doused one of the bandages with it. For the briefest moment, Kougaiji wondered if Gojyo was intending to clean his wound - the idea rose too clearly in his mind, sent a thrill of heat through him. Setting his jaw, Kougaiji ignored the flush beneath his skin. Talk about ridiculous. Once the bandage was damp with oil, Gojyo slid it across the table to Kougaiji before taking another out of the kit. Snatching up the bandage, Kougaiji started dabbing at the dried claw marks that crossed his shoulder, the welts already growing tough with solidified blood. As he doctored the welts with the cool oil, Gojyo pulled down his own collar and wiped at the nicks on his shoulder where Kougaiji’s nails had pierced the skin when they ran into each other in the forest. Looking away, Kougaiji twisted on his seat to work on the larger cut above his hip. It was an awkward angle and he found he had to bend oddly in the chair. Even then he couldn’t see clearly, since the cut was long and curved in an arch around his side to the back. It took a moment before he became aware that Gojyo had moved. Looking up, Kougaiji found Gojyo standing beside him, frowning at his wound. Startled, Kougaiji prickled slightly. “What?” he demanded. “You’re making a real mess there, man. Give it to me.” Gojyo didn’t wait for Kougaiji to react, simply dropping to his haunches and snatching the bandage from between Kougaiji’s fingers. “Wait, you-” “Pipe down, will you. I already told you, Jien’ll have my balls if that gets infected.” Gojyo indicated to the torn flesh. “You’re not responsible for me and I do not need your help.” “I know that.” Leaning forward for a closer look, Gojyo brought the damp material up. Although Kougaiji couldn’t see Gojyo’s face from beneath the curtain of red hair that obscured it, he could clearly hear the exasperation. “Look,” Gojyo continued, “I’d hate it if you did the same for me, if the roles were reversed. But hell, I’d at least try to suck it up. Now, be quiet. Let me work here.” The cool cloth was pressed carefully to the wound, Gojyo’s steady hand making clean, straight swipes that worked the stinging oil into the deepest part of the cut. Every now and then Kougaiji felt the brush of rough fingertips, felt hot breath against his skin as Gojyo leant further to see better in the lamplight. Kougaiji grit his teeth, trying not to shiver lest Gojyo feel it. He started wondering what on earth he was doing - sitting in a human town at a human inn with a half-breed who, for all intent and purpose, he could not get out from under his skin. Or, he thought bitterly, say no to. Gojyo was surprisingly assiduous as he tended to the wound, falling silent and implementing a concentration Kougaiji hadn’t thought he possessed. It was impossible not to relax beneath Gojyo’s attention, although the tension surrounding them seemed to be growing with each scrupulous swipe of the bandage over his hip. Kougaiji swallowed noiselessly. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me yet,” he said after a long moment of silence. Although he felt silly wanting to fill the quiet, the strange new atmosphere was beginning to unnerve him; Gojyo was still a part of Sanzo’s group, Kougaiji couldn’t let himself forget that. “Eh? Asked you what?” Kougaiji looked down at him, noting how Gojyo’s brow was furrowed slightly. “About why I approached you.” “Ohh, that. Well, I dunno, I figured you had your reasons.” Reaching up to the table for the oil, Gojyo dampened the bandage once again. “But now you mention it, I’m curious.” Kougaiji clucked his tongue. “I should’ve kept quiet.” “Heh, probably.” Gojyo’s eyes rose to meet his own. For some inexplicable reason, Kougaiji knew he could trust the hanyou, just like he’d known he could trust Dokugakuji the first time they had met. He wondered if the air of dependability that the two brothers radiated ran in the family. Kougaiji looked away, down at his hands folded in his lap. “I found out they’re planning to sacrifice my sister for the experiments.” There was no point sugar-coating the truth, for his own benefit or anyone else’s. It would make no difference to the fact that Lirin was in serious danger. The cloth paused against his skin. The silence that descended was thick, heavy with unspoken shock. Kougaiji clenched his jaw, trying not to think too much about Lirin and what he had to do to get her back. “Fuck,” Gojyo muttered after a long time. “Indeed,” said Kougaiji. “So you see my dilemma.” “Yeah, hell, it’s all making more sense now.” Gojyo sat back on his heels. “I gotta say, I’d do the same thing if I knew it’d save her. I’d do it for Jien in a heartbeat.” Wanting to divert the conversation from Lirin, Kougaiji asked, “He left you when you were still quite young, didn’t he?” He had never pressed Doku for information on his past, particularly not concerning his family. It had been evident Doku had a lot of skeletons in his closet, and Kougaiji had learned over the years they were painful ones. Part of him realised it wasn’t his place to ask Doku’s younger brother questions like this, but it was too late to take it back. After a while with no reply, Kougaiji started to wonder if Gojyo was going to answer, which was fine - he’d spoken out of turn. Absently running his hands over the tabletop, he traced old scars and stains and graffiti until Gojyo finally spoke in a soft rumble. “I was twelve when he walked.” Kougaiji looked at him and Gojyo shrugged one shoulder. “Hell, I’d imagine anyone who’d just done what he did would want out. I’ll bet every time he looked at me he saw what became of his mother.” The red eyes staring at Kougaiji were now stone serious, though it seemed like they were looking right through him - into the past, most likely. Gojyo waved his hand as if blowing off a memory. “Whatever. I knew Jien would make good for himself. He’s got a good head on him and he’s strong, too. Always could shove my face to the ground when I gave him lip.” “You miss him.” As soon as he said it, Kougaiji knew what a needless statement it was. He thought back to when he’d first met Doku, unable to help wondering if the man crouched beside him had been lonely at the time, missing his only surviving family member. Undoubtedly, Kougaiji concluded. “He was my freaking brother, man. You of all people should understand how it was, given you’re doing all this shit for your little sister. Half sister, that is.” Kougaiji had nothing to say to that; he hadn’t considered the parallels before, but Gojyo was right - he could imagine how it felt. “I know I wouldn’t want to lose Dokugakuji either, no matter what,” he finally admitted. “The same goes for Yaone.” Gojyo let out a soft snort. “Yeah, that’s another thing that should piss me off - how you’ve stolen my bro and picked up a hottie along with him. All I get stuck with is a pissy bastard of a monk, a bottomless pit of a monkey, and - well, Hakkai’s all right. Pretty, but he’s my best friend.” He winked, a gesture he made often but one that Kougaiji just couldn’t get used to. Another flush of warmth spread through him. “Don’t ever think you’ll replace me,” Gojyo added. Now it was Kougaiji’s turn to snort. “And become a foul-mouthed, unshaven, chain-smoking alcoholic? I don’t think there’s any danger of that.” “Now you’re just plain flirting with me,” Gojyo drawled, finishing up and balling the bandage in his fist. He dumped it on the table and retrieved a fresh one. “Raise your arms a bit.” Kougaiji lifted his arms up so Gojyo could wind the new bandage around his body. Leaning closer, Gojyo wrapped his arms around Kougaiji’s stomach, his hair dusting against Kougaiji’s shoulder as he moved. If the flush from before had been strong, it was nothing compared to the one that assaulted Kougaiji now. He froze in his seat, suddenly hyper-aware of every point where Gojyo touched him - the soft hair tickling his bare skin, rough hands sliding around his waist, across his stomach, ghosting over his navel. Kougaiji’s muscles twitched at the contact and he was aware of the sound of his own breath, not as steady as he’d like. He was getting too distracted. Losing sight of the mission. He knew this, and yet he couldn’t stop the reactions. As he cleared his throat sharply, everything suddenly changed, as if the sound preceded the snapping of invisible restraints, marking the start of something Kougaiji couldn’t name. Gojyo paused, his hand stilling on Kougaiji’s stomach, pressing flat against the semi-bandaged flesh. Clenching his jaw to keep from moving, Kougaiji’s body thrummed under the weight of the tension passing in the space between them. The hand slid up, over his ribs, his chest, grazing a nipple that hardened at the touch. Gojyo’s fingers trailed over his collarbone, his fingernails roughly bitten. They jagged edges scraped lightly on Kougaiji’s skin and made his breath stick in his throat. The languid heat of Gojyo’s touch moved up the side of his neck; then Gojyo curved his fingers under Kougaiji’s chin, tilting his face until Kougaiji was looking at him. Kougaiji idly wondered when Gojyo’s dark red eyes had grown so fierce, when his face had got so close. A small frown dipped Gojyo’s eyebrows. “Fuck, you’re pretty, d’you know that?” he murmured, voice sounding as smoky as it smelled. “I’ve killed men for less than this,” Kougaiji told him. “I’ll bet.” Gojyo blinked slowly. “Still, I like the way you look at me. Liked how you looked at me back at the cabin. Remember that?” Kougaiji shook his head, momentarily lost for words, lost for breath, though deep down he knew the action was useless. Whatever this was, the electrifying proximity, the crushing tension, it was already too late to avoid or put a stop to it. Gojyo evidently knew this, too; he leaned forward, setting things in motion. For a split-second, Kougaiji felt the urge to lash out, to dominate. He met Gojyo hard, their teeth knocking together on contact, then a hot, forceful tongue grazed across Kougaiji’s lips. Growling, Kougaiji reached out to steady himself, reached out for an anchor, because at that moment he felt like he was falling. His head was spinning now, a mix of confusion and something base, something raw and instinctual, something that embraced him and refused to let go. Clutching a fistful of long red hair, Kougaiji pushed at the hanyou, biting his lips and sucking on his tongue as it edged into his mouth. A low rumble rose from Gojyo’s throat, the sound resonating and sending a shock of excitement all the way through Kougaiji to his groin. He was half way off the chair by the time he realised he was being tugged unceremoniously to the floor, falling with Gojyo in a hard sprawl of limbs and breath-stealing sensations. The rough, worn carpet burned his skin as he was rolled over, arching up against Gojyo’s body, their hipbones connecting sharply. Kougaiji broke the kiss as a flash of pain tore through him and he gasped, a moment later Gojyo echoing him. “Fuck me,” Gojyo breathed against his mouth. He rotated his hips, grinding his hard cock against Kougaiji’s thigh. It was too much - Kougaiji choked a groan, surprising himself with how desperately aroused it sounded. He had never heard his own voice quite like this, so unlike the stifled noises he made when he touched himself. Gojyo’s words ran through his head over and over like a mantra. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me - Kougaiji had never heard anything so filthy demanded of him, uttered in a voice so rich with want it shook him, made his erection twitch in his denims. Gojyo was breathing fast, staring down at him. “I wasn’t joking,” he said roughly. “It’s been a while and all, but - shit. Just say somethin’, will you?” He suddenly looked doubtful, and in that moment his entire face changed, all the arrogance and front slipping to reveal the man beneath. Kougaiji pushed up against the floor with his elbow for leverage, rolling them over and switching their positions, shoving a knee between Gojyo’s legs. He nudged his knee up a little way and Gojyo hissed in a breath. “Something,” he murmured, picking up where Gojyo left off, grinding his hips downward in blissful, uncoordinated circles. “You’ve done this before?” Gojyo looked at him with deep, burning eyes. “Just go steady, use the oil.” It wasn’t exactly an answer, though Kougaiji couldn’t see why Gojyo would lie, or why he’d push for sex so thoughtlessly otherwise. It shouldn’t surprise him that Gojyo wasn’t a novice at this kind of thing. But then he was reminded of the look Gojyo had given him before - that unguarded, raw look, the true need on his angular face. The openness, the concern, as if Gojyo had been afraid he’d judged things wrong. That little glimpse of vulnerability was what stayed with Kougaiji, made him feel like he wasn’t so entirely out of his element as he’d previously thought. Having to use no small measure of will power, he slowed his movements, sitting up and reaching for the bottle on the tabletop. The lid was still uncorked from where Gojyo had soaked the bandage - the bandage that was currently still half wrapped around his midriff, Kougaiji noted. He heard a belt buckle clinking, a zip being drawn down, the rustle of fabric, the hush of it sliding over skin. Kougaiji didn’t look up; he set down the bottle and shrugged his jeans off his hips. His cock rose hard and flushed, damp at the tip, the fire within him having not faded a whit. Gojyo was nearby, moving closer, the floorboards creaking under him. He settled a hot palm on Kougaiji’s bicep, squeezing slightly. “Hey, man…” “Don’t say anything.” There was really nothing Kougaiji wanted to hear right then. He felt serious words would ruin the moment, make it all too real, make him think about what was actually happening. His instincts were running too high, an urgency pulsing within him that needed an outlet. Kougaiji quickly spilled a substantial amount of oil over his fingers, some of the liquid sliding down to his wrist and dripping to the floor. Turning, he found himself with a mouthful of Gojyo’s tongue again. The next kiss barely resembled a kiss at all. Gojyo groaned something semi-pained as Kougaiji’s front teeth caught on his lower lip, and his rigid dick jerked against Kougaiji’s abdomen. Urging him down, Gojyo twisted his fingers in Kougaiji’s hair and pulled hard. As he did so, he raised one leg up around Kougaiji’s waist, opening himself up and making his intention more than clear. “Touch me,” Gojyo rumbled, breaking away. “Fuck, do it!” Kougaiji bit down on his jaw, instinctively warning Gojyo not to get too pushy. He wanted to make Gojyo cry out for that one. Dipping his slicked hand between Gojyo’s lightly haired thighs, Kougaiji swirled the pad of his finger around the crinkle of skin behind Gojyo’s balls. He nudged at the unyielding flesh, tempting some give in the resistance. The resulting squirm made him let out a breathy laugh. “Shut the hell up.” Gojyo grinned at him. “You fucking tease!” “Stop telling me what to do,” Kougaiji retorted, slipping his index into Gojyo’s grasping heat. He was rewarded with the cry he wanted, breathed brokenly and desperately against his cheek. “Ahh, more, more.” Gojyo arched as Kougaiji roughly pushed two digits up inside him, preparing him quickly and with less care than he’d like. The impatience Gojyo exhibited only encouraged Kougaiji’s own arousal, until all he could think about was how incredible it’d be to sink his cock into the heat constricting around his fingers, to pin Gojyo down and drive him through the floor. “I’m ready,” Gojyo insisted. “Stop, fuck, I’m ready.” “Are you sure?” Kougaiji found himself asking as he withdrew his fingers, unable to hold back the concerned query. Gojyo pushed at him and for a moment Kougaiji thought he was pushing him away. But Gojyo turned over onto his front and rose up onto his knees and elbows. The firm, pale curve of his arse was so very enticing - Kougaiji wanted to bite him, take him hard as he was presented with Gojyo’s slick hole. There was no need for more encouragement. Kougaiji took Gojyo’s hips in his hands, kneeling between his spread legs, angling his erection. At that point, there were no other thoughts in his mind but to complete what had been started, the raw ache in his groin becoming unbearable, the promise of exquisite sensation just inches away, impossible to resist any longer. The hipbones rose sharp under Gojyo’s skin and Kougaiji clutched them tightly as he surged forward, as the taut ring gave and the head of his leaking cock slid in where it was just as incredible, just as hot as he’d imagined. The sound that rose up on penetration was so deep and heartfelt Kougaiji couldn’t tell what was said, just a harsh, nonsensical word from somewhere at the back of Gojyo’s throat. Outside, thunder shook around the inn, the oil lamps flickering as a draft snuck into the room and disturbed the flames. Kougaiji started to pump his hips, sure he wouldn’t last very long, not at this rate, not with Gojyo beginning to push back against him, impaling himself on Kougaiji’s cock like it was the end of the world. “Ah, shit it’s been too long,” Gojyo grated, head lowered so that his hair spilled forward, concealing his expression. From the tone of his voice, there was some discomfort, but that didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. Kougaiji idly wondered how much of the enthusiasm was due to the fact that they were walking into enemy territory soon, the outcome uncertain. End of the world might be about right. “Fuck that’s good, ah - harder. Harder.” This time, the audacity of the demand didn’t register with Kougaiji - to thrust harder seemed like the best idea he’d ever heard. He looked down to where his hands rested on Gojyo’s lower back, dark tanned skin against pale white, then lower still, to where his shaft moved into and out of Gojyo’s body, shining with lubrication and dark red with arousal. Closing his eyes, all of Kougaiji’s attention focused on the rapidly approaching orgasm within him, rising like a tsunami as he pushed into the sinewy body spread out on the floor in front of him. His balls started drawing up tight, full and aching from the exertion and the need to come. It was a mindless move to reach up and pull the silver limiters from his ear; when he came, he wanted to come as himself. Kougaiji tossed the three metal cuffs to the floor, barely hearing them scatter beneath the pounding in his head, his pulse rampant in his ears. Everything he was uncoiled then, as the limiters’ restriction broke. Kougaiji moaned at the head-rush, his fingernails extending sharp, his hair tumbling down the length of his back and falling over his shoulders to brush Gojyo’s body beneath him. He was free again, at last. Leaning down, Kougaiji spread himself over Gojyo’s back and wrapped a taloned hand around Gojyo’s wet cock. “Oh fuck yes, so good,” Gojyo groaned, working one of his own hands down to settle around Kougaiji’s in a tight grip. Guiding a rough, uncoordinated rhythm, Kougaiji pumped their joined hands fast and hard, smoothing precome over the hot length in his palm. A moment later, Gojyo shuddered fiercely, stilling abruptly like he’d been frozen in time. His back arched, cock releasing sudden spurts of hot, slick come over Kougaiji’s fingers, his own body, and the floor. The moans and curses were lower than Gojyo’s normal timbre, heartfelt and open and oddly wonderful. Drawing his hand away, Kougaiji experimentally licked some of the moisture from his skin. The unusual taste wasn’t entirely pleasant, but it wasn’t entirely unpleasant either, just strong and strangely intoxicating. The noises below were fading now, as Gojyo came down from his release. Kougaiji held him firmly, leading the sex now, jerking his hips against Gojyo’s backside with his fully released strength. With a final rough shove, he was unable to keep hold off the incredible pressure any longer, his balls contracting and sending euphoric surges through him. It felt like Gojyo was milking him dry, the muscles in his arse still constricting around Kougaiji’s length, drawing everything he had out of his cock. Panting, Kougaiji let some of his weight settle on top of Gojyo throughout the come down. He was still deeply seated once his orgasm had abated, and although his limbs were feeling heavy, his mind was finally clearing and growing more alert. “Okay, man, you’re gettin’ kinda heavy now.” Kougaiji licked his parched lips, carefully pulling out. He moved backwards across the carpet and settled into a sitting position, propped up against the edge of the bed. He didn’t have the will to care particularly about his nakedness, savouring the air on his sensitised skin. As Gojyo turned over and sprawled out across the floor, it was evident he didn’t care, either. “Think I might’ve ruptured something there.” Kougaiji rolled his eyes, his breathing slowly returning to normal. “Can we leave the pillow talk,” he suggested. “You’ve no mind for it.” “Hey, my pillow talk’s highly romantic,” said Gojyo, turning his head to stare up at the cracked ceiling. “If you’re a cute young lady, that is. Youkai princes? Nah, you just get the bare facts.” He rubbed as his side, hauling himself up into a position similar to Kougaiji’s. “I ache, but man does that take the edge off.” Kougaiji had a feeling he knew what edge Gojyo was speaking of. It was possible the mission would fail, but before he could let himself again sink into thoughts of Houtou, he picked up the loose bandage and finished wrapping his wound. Gojyo dragged his discarded jeans towards him and fished for his cigarettes. Once lit, he perched the stick between his lips and scratched the back of his head, silent for a moment. Tying a knot in the bandage, Kougaiji reflected on all that had happened that day. One thing was certain - if someone had told him he’d end up in a cheap human inn with the younger brother of his best friend and confidant, he would’ve probably torn them a new one for simply entertaining the idea. Kougaiji couldn’t stop his mouth from curling up at the thought, a smile of part-disbelief. He had never been given the chance to indulge, what with the plans to revive his father, to bring his mother back, with obtaining the sutra or making sure his friends and sister were safe. He supposed he could be grateful to Gojyo for a brief respite. “Rain’s finally stopped,” Gojyo observed. Kougaiji looked toward the window, at the quiet night sky outside, the moon having finally snuck out from behind the dark storm clouds. “We should get going.” Gojyo glanced at him for the first time since Kougaiji had pulled away. “Eh, I didn’t do such a great job of wrapping your wounds, did I?” “Doesn’t matter,” Kougaiji said plainly. “I’ve fixed it. Anyway, I can’t even feel the cut anymore.” Too late did he realise how that statement could be taken, although when he thought about it, he would wager the sex had played a large part in his current physical state of relaxation. “Heh, another score for the amazing healing powers of Sha Gojyo. One touch is all you need, though if you’re hot you’ll probably get more.” It seemed Gojyo was back to his usual self. “Honestly,” Kougaiji muttered. “How do the others put up with you?” Gojyo grinned around his cigarette. His hair was damp at the crown, tangled at the back. Looking away, Kougaiji got to his feet and started to redress, then retrieved the discarded limiters from the floor. He was more prepared for the physical restraint this time, managing to slip them on with little hassle or reaction. Once his cigarette was burned to the butt, Gojyo rose, too. He grabbed one of the spare bandages and used it to clean the mess on his stomach - Kougaiji watched from the corner of his eye as Gojyo wiped away the evidence of their sex. They straightened up the chairs, packed the first aid kit. A mellow silence descended and they looked at each other for a short moment. There really was nothing left but to head out the door and lock up, no reason to make it out to be more than it was. At the bar, Gojyo returned the box and oil. Kougaiji wondered if the barmaid would notice how much of the liquid was missing, that much more was gone than was needed for a few flesh wounds. He averted his eyes, heading to the door and waiting there for Gojyo to catch up. Out on the street, they pulled their collars up close around their necks. The moon had shifted further in the sky, signalling the late hour - or rather, the early hour. Although his body felt pleasantly mellow, Kougaiji put himself on alert - it was more than likely they would meet more youkai from here on. He glanced at Gojyo as they started to walk down the street, heading out of the town. Gojyo caught his eyes and then looked away, tucking his hands in his jacket pockets and watching the road. Once past the town’s boundaries, Kougaiji once again slipped off the limiters and handed them to Gojyo, muttering a long-overdue “Thanks.” Gojyo shrugged. “Kinda like you better this way, anyway.” Kougaiji stared at the damp road, shining pale under the moonlight. Mimicking Gojyo, he slid his hands into his coat pockets, and watched as their shadows grew taller. ~Fin~ |
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