Scorpio
6
One of the young servants appeared just then, offering his services to his lord and master. The man asked him to gather all of the items in the Temple with the Aquarius symbol, and pack them; and to take them where they belonged. He did not want anything that was not his in that place. Even less now. By Athena, he thought, if Jabu had seen all this. He cursed himself with every passing moment, berating himself for not having got rid of it all before.
But time went by, and by mid-morning Jabu had not returned.
Still tired, and having not yet slept, Milo sat down in one of the halls to wait for him. He had refused the food he had been offered, asking instead that everything be left ready for him and his apprentice, who would arrive shortly. But sleep eventually overpowered him. He remained seated in a huge armchair, his head leaning against the headrest, his arms draped over the plush arms of the chair.
He got up quickly as soon as he heard someone moving about the place.
“Ah, you’re back.” Jabu said without stopping, or even looking at him for more than a glance.
“Yes, I came back some time ago. Where were you? He replied, stretching and walking towards him. “I was worried when I didn’t find you here-”
“How was it?”
Milo looked at him, perplexed, unable to understand what Jabu was saying.
“What are you talking about?”
“About Camus. Did you have a good time? Is his Temple very different now? Did you have fun together? You must have if you didn’t come back before dawn.”
Scorpio felt the heat rising on his face, and the next thing he knew was his fist slamming into Jabu’s face. His fist burned, but not because of the punch, it was because of the burning desire he felt to strike the other down. Having been with Camus? Having visited his Temple? Why was Jabu saying these things?
“You promised to believe in me, Jabu! Why are you coming out with this now?”
The youth got to his feet angrily. A line of blood streamed from the corner of his mouth and he froze when he saw the expression on Milo’s face. He himself felt on the very edge of his own emotions and fears. He walked to the centre of the room, letting himself fall down onto one of the armchairs there.
“You didn’t come. What did you expect me to think?”
“Do you think he is the only one who lives in this place?” Milo let himself fall by Jabu’s side. Then he accommodated himself in the same position in which he had been sitting while he had been sleeping. Jabu looked at him disconsolate. It seemed that everything he did just made things worse. In fact, both of them felt this way, and Milo thought to himself that it was best to remain in silence and not give explanations. To let him think what he wanted and forget about everything. But he couldn’t do that. Neither of them could.
“No, he isn’t the only one; but you said it with your own words.” Jabu shifted on the arm chair so as to look at him, “You didn’t know what you would do if you saw him-”
“You were with me when I saw him. Did I do anything strange then, or what?” The man looked at him, and noted the blood on his face. “Come, let me help you with that.” Milo brought his hand up to the other’s face to cure the injury he had inflicted. Jabu closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel the Scorpion’s cosmos flow through his body, closing the light wound, leaving not a trace of a scar.
“Saori...”
“What?”
“Why is Saori’s cosmos mixed with yours?”
“Do you really want to know?”
The youth nodded, and Milo made him sit on his lap, he began to caress him intimately, making the other turn pale with the soft strokes, before he gave in to the pleasure. “It isn’t right that we resolve everything this way... Milo...”
“You said you wanted to know, didn’t you? So be quiet and learn the secrets of the Scorpion, my sweet apprentice.”
Their clothes were an impediment in the moment of union, when their cosmos’ fused and they stopped being two people, to become one. In that moment, Jabu saw all that had happened. He felt Athena’s pain, and Milo’s as he had spoken to her. He saw them laugh and cry amid their sobs, while the heart and faith of his beloved were renewed and the assurance of the Goddess returned to her Saint.
He saw him sob in that moment, a victim of uncertainty, and the difficulty he found in opening himself up to others. Jabu saw him crying, and he felt that he had humilliated him by not rusting him. The older man said nothing, as the words would not come to his lips. His cosmos would speak for him. There would be no uncertainties between them. Only the other’s name could be heard.
“I love you, Milo of Scorpio.” Jabu said finally, before surrendering to the sensations and the confession that were being offered to him in that moment. Milo clung to his body, letting himself be led on by the other. But things were not the same. Their fears, their possessiveness were taking them to extremes. The erstwhile Unicorn wept in silence while he made love with Milo once again. He didn’t understand anything after all. In spite of all that was going through his cosmos; of having been an indirect witness of the audience which had taken place, his fears were still with him. The affair concerning Camus was not over yet.
“Forgive me.” He whispered, kissing him after the climax had overcome him. In spite of everything, he did not trust Milo.
Camus was taken by surprise when a vassal from the Eighth House arrived with a box for him. They were his belongings, those that had been in the House of Scorpio, according to the young man. That was something he had not been expecting, since he had always taken it for granted that Milo would return to him. He had done it every time, and during many a year; it had always been that way, despite all the rejections. Even after finding out that he was back on Earth, Milo had sought him out. But he, quite simple, could not correspond.
He sighed when one of his own vassals took the box and placed it on a table in the centre of the hall; then he sat in front of it. He looked at it without knowing what to think, what to say, and much less, how to react. It was a sign that his relationship with Milo had deteriorated to a point he had never imagined. That, although he were to wish it, Milo would not come back to him. At least that had been the way of things during this last year. The few months before Scorpio had departed to train Unicorn, and the ones that had passed since that day, already added up to longer than a year.
He had not been able to find reasons to ask Milo to stay with him. There had been no need to prostrate himself before the other and beg. That day, in his Temple, the other’s reaction had been to leave Sanctuary without giving a reason, and resisting the urge to return during the following months. He himself, only a few weeks ago had gone to look for him, and what had happened? First, the Scorpion’s apprentice, Jabu, had almost run him out of the place. Then, that following morning, it had been none other than Milo who had asked him to leave. And that, had devastated him.
How could he explain to Milo what was going through his mind? Through his heart?
They all thought him to be a block of ice, to whom nothing mattered more that his pupil’s training. Yes, he had to face it, he had acted selfishly when he had intervened in the Battle of the Twelve Houses. Hyoga was- a weakness he hadn’t counted on. So much so, that he remembered not having listened to the Scorpion’s claims that day. He had only listened to his emotions shouting at him that he had to do something. That Hyoga had to understand, but his selfishness had been the motive. Aquarius had to survive at any cost. He had already lost Isaac and he was prepared to lose himself, if it meant that Hyoga would not perish.
Moreover, regardless of what happened, Milo would be there. As always.
His throat still burned. He remembered Milo’s hands closing around his windpipe during the Hades incident. He had wanted to kill him for standing against the Goddess. Scorpio had not believed any other thing. But, who would do so under such circumstances? Athena had been attacked by them many times, and in all truth, there had not been many reasons to believe them. He brought his hand up to his throat, and around the nape of his neck, as if he could still feel the pain that had been inflicted on him while the attack had lasted. Those same hands that had once caressed him in the same place.
He went to his rooms, taking the box with him. As he took out each item of clothing, each object, or book; the moment in which that particular article had come to remain in Scorpio passed through his mind. He had never gone to fetch them. In fact, he had not done so, for he was sure that Milo had disposed of them. All things considered, after having finally realized that he had come back to life, he had never conceded to speak with the other man. He had decided to simply ignore him, and to say to the others in a low voice, how much the other’s presence bothered him. Even though it was all a lie.
There was no way that Camus could explain what had happened to him. The pain he had had to endure to live out each death. The deep and limitless sadness he had felt, being separated from the other. It had all happened so fast, without time for proclamations, and with a sense of loss that was much too great.
Aquarius let himself collapse onto the bed, so that his legs lay against the floor. His arm hiding his face. He had not been able to tell Milo about his fear of losing him for a third time. It was too painful to speak about that, or even to mention it. Just as it was to remember his life at Milo’s side. It was true that it had been the other saint who had started to follow him, looking to spend more time with him. It was true that at times he found it impossible to understand how Milo had been able to withstand so many arrogant remarks and so much indifference. But it was also true that it had been by his side that he had come to know what it meant to be alive. The happiness, the vivacity, and Scorpio’s quirks, had shown him that there was much more in the world than simple duty. Although this had been his excuse for not giving more of himself to the other.
But Milo had always come back. Always- why would things be any different this time? What had led him to make a decision that Camus knew he had never made before? Everything was suddenly so confusing. Everything was, in his view, definitive.
“I’m so sorry.” He uttered the words as he wept silent tears. The fact that the box was now in his House, was Milo’s was of letting him know that he was now, officially, out of his life. And that was something he had thought he would never have to come to terms with.
During the last few days, Jabu had tried to behave in a natural way while he remained in the confines of the Sanctuary. He carried on with his day-to-day routine, without relenting in his care of Milo in his own way, of course. He respected the other’s space, letting him do as he should. He even withdrew to another room if another Saint happened to visit Scorpio. At least with respect to his role as pupil, he made no mistakes.
In his personal dealings he had started to avoid him.
Milo noticed it the day they had made love in Scorpio for the first time. It was his secret. To see what others could not see. To know about others what they themselves did not know about themselves. To always take the upper hand, for that was the only way to guarantee survival. That was part of what it meant to be a Scorpion. It was being able to see and know the souls of others. Jabu’s was, to him, an open book, one which he would have to learn to read between the lines. Lines he knew perfectly well.
He had started to become aware of every movement. Of Jabu’s endless, almost phantasmagorical silences when they were in the same room. There were no longer emotions in his words, and his gestures were too listless to be able to draw any conclusions from them. He frowned at whoever would come near the saint. Jabu didn’t seem to feel comfortable around him, or in that place.
However, he did not push him away. Every time that Milo came near to kiss him, or caress him, Jabu responded whole-heartedly to the show of affection. Even during the nights, he came to him under the sheets to make love until the early dawn twilight. It was as if, with his body, he wanted to cure the other’s soul.
Scorpio was no fool. The same Modus Operandi, the same sensations. Different person. But this time he was on the receiving end of the situation.
Jabu was not in the House at that time, so the place was his alone. He had recovered the casks of wine which Aphrodite had given him before the first battle, and which were quite mature, and he sat; the clay jars arranged on the table before him. It had been a long time since he had drunk liquor. He never partook of it to forget anything at all, nor to escape from reality. He was now, quite simply at a point in his life when he needed to make some decisions.
Athena had given him free rein to leave Sanctuary whenever he wanted. During the last few days they had spent some time together to converse. That was how he had learned about the situation between his Goddess and Pegasus. Since he had come back from death, he had given himself over entirely to her and to sex in order to survive his fears. The woman’s feelings had taken second place, and all that had been sublime in their love had been relegated to the walls that were the silent witnesses to their aroused passion.
Athena had thought that all was love. Until she had felt the cosmos of her beloved mix with those of others. Nothing was hidden from her eyes. And Seiya, believing that he could, had soon become such an enflamed lover, that one partner alone was not enough for him. When she had confronted him with this, he had responded that to be sure of his feelings and his actions, it was necessary for him to experiment- because he had already died once, and he did not want to lament anything, were that to happen to him again.
When the woman spoke to Milo of this, he remained in silence, holding her hand. He understood her feelings and she appreciated that. But she also knew that he was no better off in that place. So far, his encounters alone with Camus had been minimal, and not even a single conversation had come of them. However, he wasn’t sure how long that would last.
Now Milo sat facing the clay wine jars, thinking how on Earth he could put some order into his life, which had been turned head over heels in the space of a week; and gave no indications of improvement for the weeks that would follow.
The fruity wine flowed warmly down his throat. One glass after another, he drank each one with fervor; willing the wine’s effect to stay away from him for a while. That it would wait until he was ready for it. He relished every drop of it, paying no heed to his thoughts, imagining when the harvest had occurred; how much they had expended their energies to crush the grapes and extract the juice. How many months or years it had taken the wine to mature. He only knew that it had been several years in his cellar; which meant that its flavour was much more intense.
When Jabu finally arrived at the house, Milo had already finished one of the three jars of wine. The former Unicorn just looked at him without saying a word; noting that the other preferred not to see him, or to avoid him altogether.
“Good evening.”
The Scorpion remained in silence, contemplating the fine crystal of the glass, before swallowing its ruby-red content. Once more the peaceful, dizzying sensation which it offered him, was welcome relief in a moment such as this.
“I said good evening.”
“Uh-huh. I heard you the first time.” Another glass of wine; this time he closed his eyes, feeling the potent liquid flow down his throat, and then he let his head fall to one side, against the back of the chair, letting himself rest that way for a while.
“Is anything wrong?” Jabu asked, intrigued, going into the bedroom for a moment to find an undershirt to wear.
“You tell me.” Milo inquired, sitting up. Everything about him was so different that night. His mood, his look. Once more, Jabu felt he was facing a predator, but this time he knew he would not die from pleasure, on the contrary.
When no answer was forthcoming, Milo decided to stand, heading for the Temple’s front door. Being with Jabu just then suffocated him. His pent up emotions were on a collision course that would only lead to destruction. He knew himself. He was on the razor’s edge and he knew that he would respond to any ill-spoken word. By a demon, he cursed himself. Now he knew for sure, he had fallen in love again, just like that first time. He had believed every one of Jabu’s words, and in that instant- he realized that perhaps what he desired from Jabu, was something the other was not prepared to hand over.
“Milo...”
“I won’t be back tonight, so the House is all yours. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Where are you going?”
“Where do you think?” The older man turned defiantly without saying another word on the matter. He could sense that the blood had risen to the other’s face, but he was also, somehow pale at the same time. Jabu stepped towards him, looking for a little sanity- for some indication that he would not go to Aquarius.
“I don’t know.”
“So be it, I’ll see you tomorrow so.”
Jabu stood still, in the centre of the Temple, without saying a word. It was one thing to believe what was going on. To imagine Milo conversing with Camus in a devious way, just like he’d spoken to him during the nights. It was something completely different to imagine that in the very same instant, he was making his way towards his Temple to spend the night there.
His doubts took hold of him, and he could not help but take both wine vessels in his hands and smash them against the floor. He went to the kitchen, looking for something with which to clean up the mess, but he had to stop and turn around when he heard a strange voice in the place.
“Good evening. Would your Master happen to be here?”
He could feel his blood freeze when he saw him. Camus of Aquarius was in his Temple asking after Milo.