Blood & Chocolate

Chapter 1: Keep On Moving

No, I just keep on moving
No, I just keep on pushing forward
No, I forgot what I was looking for
- Slow Down, Ben Jelen


Four Months Later...


RING! RING!

“Shit,” Gojyo muttered to the empty room as he pulled the key out of the sticky lock. He dropped his jacket and parcels on the kitchen counter and dove for the cordless phone hanging on the wall. “Yeee-llo,” he said into the receiver.

“Hey, it's me,” the voice on the other end said warmly. Gojyo let out a quick breath of relief. It was only Hakkai.

“Hey man, what's up?” Gojyo flipped on the lights and sauntered back to discarded bags on his counter and began to unpack his findings from the marketplace.

“Oh, the usual. Got a stack of assignments to mark for tomorrow.” Gojyo smiled. He was happy that his friend had gone back to teaching, happy that he had found something to give himself purpose. He opened the door of the refridgerator.

“Everything all settled at the new place, then, eh?” Gojyo asked as he placed the produce in the drawer and a six-pack of beer on the shelf, kicking the door shut with his foot as he turned back to the counter.

“Yes, thank you for helping me with that. It's nice being closer to the school,” Hakkai replied. The green-eyed man had moved out of Gojyo's small house a few days prior. He had felt that after everything the two had been through living in close proximity for several months on the road, a little bit of privacy was necessary. Gojyo hadn't complained. He understood all too well.

“That's good.”

“How have the little old ladies been?” Hakkai inquired, a teasing smile in his voice. Gojyo rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut it, 'Kai,” Gojyo snorted. After helping a shop-keeper's elderly mother in the marketplace, Gojyo found himself in an impromptu business of running errands for a few of the patrons around town; a jack-of-all-trades, but master of none, as he liked to call it. He was happy to do it and they tipped well (he never outrightly charged them), keeping his bills paid. Plus, a few of them had very lovely daughters that he was able to flirt with daily. “Listen, I'll come by on Saturday and take a look at your sink. Still giving you problems, yeah?”

“Yes, the faucet still drips.” There was an uncomfortable pause. “Gojyo?” he finally asked as the hanyou set to work pouring rice into a large jar to store.

“Hm?”

“You haven't...” There was another pause and an exasperated sigh from the receiver. “You haven't tried to go visit Sanzo, have you?” Gojyo slowly screwed the lid onto the jar and placed it into a cabinet.

“No,” he replied curiously, his brow furrowing thoughtfully. “Is something wrong?”

“I don't know. I've tried a few times, after work. He won't talk to anyone, so the monks tell me. It's gotten me a bit worried.”

“Hakkai,” Gojyo said patronizingly. “You know that Sanzo-sama is a big boy. He'll come around when he wants to come around.”

“I hope you're right, my friend. I'm just afraid...”

“Afraid of what? This is Sanzo we're talking about. If I remember correctly, Sanzo's not the share-your-feelings type.”

“Yes,” Hakkai said defeatedly. “It's just that-”

“Yeah, I know,” Gojyo cut his friend off. He knew all too well. Goku would want us to live.

“I'll see you on Saturday?”

“You know you will. Later.” Gojyo clicked the End button on the phone and hung it back on its receptacle. He shut his eyes for only a moment and willed the dull ache in his chest back down into the depths of himself.

Eat until you can't anymore.
Play until you drop.
Sleep the day away.
It's okay to laugh, or yell, or cry.
Just Live.
Live. Live. Live.*

It was something that Goku would hum to himself sometimes when he thought no one was listening, or when he was playing with Hakuryuu. He'd been running the verse over in his head a lot, these days. Goku would want them to live, not turn themselves into walking corpses just biding time.

Gojyo picked up his jacket and hung it on the hook beside the door before emptying out his pants pockets on the table. He pulled up a chair and began to rifle through the detritus, counting out the spare change and bills. He'd done alright today, and he had tomorrow pretty booked as well. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, letting the nicotine wash through his system, a relaxing comfort. They had been afforded far too few comforts during those months, that he took in the solace of a quiet room and a single cigarette dangling from his fingertips and soon lost himself in his thoughts.

xXxXx

A clap of thunder in the distance awoke Gojyo with a start. He hadn't even realized he had drifted into a deep sleep sitting at the small table. He raised up a bit, stretching up and as far out as he could muster until he felt a vertebrae pop. As he rose, shoving the remainder of the mess on the table into his pockets, there was a soft rap at the door. He rolled his eyes, noting that it was Hakkai's usual knock.

“Dammit, 'Kai!” he called. “You could have just called me!” He threw open the door, ready to chastise his friend, but Hakkai was not standing on his doorstep. “Sanzo?”

The two stood staring at each other. Sanzo was soaked from head to foot from the rain, his golden hair a wet matted mess that clung to his skin. Gojyo also noted that he was not sporting his usual monk's attire, opting for a civilian look in jeans, an oxford shirt and light jacket. The priest was the first to glance away.

“I shouldn't have come here,” Sanzo said brokenly. “Gomen nasai.”

“Come on, man,” Gojyo replied, opening his door in invitation. “You're drenched.”

Sanzo bowed his head and stepped across the threshold, not moving any further from the entryway. Gojyo closed the door behind him and held out his hand for the rucksack on the Blond's shoulder.

“Let me take that,” he said quietly. Sanzo pulled the strap closer to himself, not bringing his eyes back to the hanyou's. “It's probably heavy. I'm not going to do anything to it.” Reluctantly, the priest handed over the parcel for Gojyo to hang alongside his own jacket. He noted the mud caking the bottoms of the blonde's jeans, spreading to his socks and sandals, then brought his eyes up to see a shiver course through the other man's body. “Listen, the bathroom's the door on the right,” he began, pointing down the hallway, “why don't you get a hot shower and I'll get you some dry clothes until I can do laundry.”

Sanzo nodded and padded down the hall. Gojyo started breathing again when he heard the water switch on in the small bathroom. This was certainly unexpected. He swiftly crossed into his bedroom at the end of the hall, pulling out out a pair of faded jeans and a clean shirt from his closet. He then pulled a fresh towel from the linen closet and added it to the pile in his hands. He knocked on the bathroom door, cracking it enough to place the bundle on the sink, muttering a soft, “Clean clothes,” so as not to startle Sanzo, before clicking the door shut again.

He set to making a light dinner. He figured that the monk had to be hungry, so he set a pot on the stove to make some rice. As he cracked the third of four eggs into a skillet, he heard Sanzo emerge from the bathroom, looking a sight better than he had when he arrived, but not by much. He looked thinner than when he last saw him, his skin slightly more pallid than usual.

“Go sit down,” Gojyo offered. “Are you hungry? You must be,” he added as he placed a kettle on the back-burner for tea. He finished preparing the light meal and brought the plates to the dinner table, placing one in front of Sanzo before going back to the kitchenette for the tea and chopsticks.

They sat in awkward silence as they ate, Sanzo mainly picking at his food. Gojyo took a glance towards the monk. At least he was drinking the hot tea, warming him up even more. When it looked like the priest wasn't going to eat any more from his plate, he gathered up the dishes, cleaning them into the trash and placing them in the sink for later. He warmed their tea and sat back down, turning his mug in his hand.

“I'll have to go and get some more beer tomorrow, I only grabbed a sixer on the way home,” he said, attempting at conversation. He glanced up to see Sanzo's piercing gaze cutting through him. “You know, Hakkai...” he trailed, noting the response in the monk's eyes, offering a small grin in reply before letting it fall from his lips. He wouldn't want Hakkai to mother him either.

“I'll be gone by morning,” Sanzo replied flatly. Gojyo sighed.

“Sanzo, what happened?” he asked, but saw that he wouldn't get an answer out of the monk. Not then, at least. He nodded. “No, you won't. You can stay here. I have the extra bedroom and you look like hell. It's no trouble, man.” He thought he saw a blonde eyebrow twitch, but he could have been mistaken. Sanzo nodded in response, then shivered as another thunderclap sounded outside. Gojyo reached behind him into a drawer and extracted a deck of cards, shuffling them idly.

They sat and played a few rounds of gin, speaking only when needed. It was oddly comforting, Gojyo thought in the back of his mind. It certainly wasn't his cuppa tea to be entertaining the rigid priest for the evening, but it was better than being alone, he had to admit. After they had equally won a few games a piece, the hanyou escorted the priest to the spare bedroom.

“If you need anything, I'm next door,” Gojyo offered feebly before closing the door.

He set about cleaning up the small mess in the kitchen, and when he was satisfied with the state of his tiny little house, he picked up the cordless phone off the wall and quietly pressed a few numbers.

“Come on, pick up...'Kai?” There was a mumbled response on the other end. “Listen man, I'm sorry to wake you up, but I think you should know...”


* Taken from English Translation, Gensomaden Saiyuki Vol. 5, pg. 40