Counterparts Part III
folder
Gensomaden Saiyuki › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,182
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Gensomaden Saiyuki › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
1,182
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Gensomaden Saiyuki, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Epilogue
Epilogue
“What in the world are you up to, monk?” Gojyo was puzzled. He was used to Sanzo being somewhat inscrutable but this evening he was being downright mysterious. It was the first night Hakkai had given him leave to go back to “normal relations,” meaning he thought it was safe for him and Sanzo to go beyond the judicious cuddling and lip-smashing they had limited themselves to since he had awakened from his coma.
Gojyo had been at a loss to understand the priest’s recent attentiveness anyway, but he guessed it must be that he felt indebted to him for the business on the mountain. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to question it, because he was loving it. Sanzo was still Sanzo, but he was finally letting Gojyo “in” – he wasn’t constantly fighting against him, always straining to keep him at arm’s length.
He had to admit (but only to himself) that when he had first woke up and had been very weak, and Sanzo had been helping Hakkai take care of him, there had been part of him that had was eating it up. He would have hated like hell to stay like that, all dependent on people for everything, but just for a little while there, having Sanzo fuss over him and coddle him was kind of nice – he had felt cared for and safe in a way he had never felt in his whole life.
But it didn’t take long, as he started getting stronger, for him to get restless to get back to the doing the things he loved, and that motivated him to work hard on doing everything he had to do to make his recovery happen as fast as possible - including getting the green light from Hakkai to get back to Sanzo’s bed.
Not all of it had been work. He had loved the time spent sparring with the monkey. He almost hesitated to call him “the monkey” anymore, the kid was acting so grown up these days. It almost made him wonder just how long he had been out of it when he looked at the saru and saw how he had changed. But he would always be the monkey to him, and together they had gotten him back into fighting trim, and he was just as good with his shakujou now as he had ever been, if not better.
He had been as surprised as anyone to find out that he could paint. He had thought ‘Kai was crazy when he suggested it, and had just tried it to humor him. Funny thing was he really enjoyed it, and when he started doing it he remembered something long-forgotten from his childhood. He remembered clearly lying on the floor of his mother’s house with his box of colored pencils, carefully drawing picture after picture for his mom and Jien. Jien would always make a big fuss and tell him how great his pictures were, and his heart would swell with pride. His mother wouldn’t even look at them, just crumple them up and throw them aside, and yell at him to get his “stupid junk” up off of “her floor,” and he would run outside trying not to let her see the tears in his eyes. Gojyo saw the act of painting now as a way of healing two things at once – the damage from his head injury, and the hurt his mother had inflicted on him all those years ago. It particularly made him happy to be able to paint pictures to give to people that he cared about. That was his favorite part about the whole thing, and they really seemed to like them when he gave them to them. He really loved that.
Sanzo had been staying with him in his room, the same room that had been acting as a makeshift hospital room all along. He had slept in the windowseat, which made Gojyo crazy, or when Gojyo insisted enough, he slept chastely in the same bed with him in his jeans and t-shirt. He would pull Gojyo to him every night and hold him close - no longer did the kappa have to go begging for that physical closeness as he once had. Gojyo noticed Sanzo seemed content to keep him very close, almost as if he was reluctant to let him go. They would kiss, sometimes even heatedly, but Sanzo would inevitably stop it before it went too far, afraid if things got too strenuous if would set back the hanyou’s recovery, and that took priority.
As soon as Hakkai had given them the go-ahead to be together again, Sanzo had begun acting strangely. Gojyo began to wonder if he was re-thinking his newfound feelings of affection for him, but as it had always been with Sanzo, he figured he would just have to go with the flow and see what happened.
Sanzo had asked him to meet him later that night at 7 o’clock, and had given him a room key, with a room number Gojyo didn’t recognize. All he would say by way of explanation was that he had a small celebration planned, and no more.
At seven o’clock Gojyo came to the room, which was on the top floor of the hotel. He had a rolled cylinder tied with a ribbon in one hand and the room key in the other. He knocked briefly, and when there was no answer he let himself in with the key. He walked into a room that was easily twice the size of the one he had been confined to for so long, with a beautiful balcony running the length of the room overlooking the town and the mountains beyond.
There was a huge, beautifully-appointed bed, a sitting area with a couch and two chairs, a dining table, and what looked to be an exceptionally-large bathroom and dressing area. The whole thing was exquisitely decorated with chinoiserie and tapestries, and large lush tropical plants throughout. The dining table was laden with a linen tablecloth, long slender lit candles, with what appeared to be a gourmet meal fully laid out on a nearby buffet in chafing dishes to keep it all warm, along with two bottles of fine sake. There were multi-colored flower arrangements by the buffet and a huge vase of beautiful peach roses on the table by the bed. He noticed an envelope in front of the vase with his name on the front, and he sat on the bed and opened it. Inside on the card in a scrawly uneven hand was written, “G – All for you. Don’t ever leave me again. Love, S.”
He looked up to see if the author of the card was anywhere in evidence and saw a blonde head peeking out of the bathroom door, eyeing him as he read the card. Without saying a word he held open his arms. Sanzo came out of the bathroom, dressed for the first time since the accident in his full priestly garb- robe sparkling white and clean, his crown, glinting in the light from the setting sun. He was even more beautiful to Gojyo now than he had been on that day so long ago when he had seen him chanting the sutra for Kanan and Hakkai, and it simply took his breath away to see him in like this once again. Sanzo came to him and took off his sutra and crown, and they fell into the large bed and made love with a sweetness and tenderness far beyond what they had ever had before.
Afterwards when they were twined together on the large bank of pillows Sanzo noticed the rolled cylinder Gojyo had brought in and laid down on the bedside table when he had sat to read the card.
“What’s that?” he pointed.
“Oh!” Gojyo exclaimed happily, “that’s for you. You said this was a celebration, so I brought you a present. I painted it for you. You know I have been trying to think of something special to paint for everybody, right? You were the hardest. I thought and I thought, and then this image popped into my head, and that was it. It wouldn’t go away and I knew it was what I had to paint for you. Here, tenshi.”
He kissed Sanzo and handed him the rolled canvas. Sanzo unrolled it and gasped at what he saw. In the background of the painting were the marble balusters of a balcony, and in the foreground, in a clear azure pool, floated one perfect magnificent lotus blossom in full bloom.
~owari~
*******************************************************************
Author’s notes:
1. As I have said before, I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on tv. Any medical expertise I have is only that I have acquired in self-defense from over ten years of dealing with my own medical problems, and a lifelong amateur interest in the field of medicine. If any medical personnel happen across this story and would be interested in helping me to correct any misrepresentations, I would encourage them to contact me.
2. Of the fortunes found by the group in their cookies that evening, all but two are actual fortunes my family and I have gotten in fortune cookies in the past year. I will leave it to the reader to guess which are the real and which are of the author’s invention.
3. The poem Hakkai refers to in his final letter to Yaone is Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.”
http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/show/4164-Robert-Frost-Stopping-By-Woods-On-A-Snowy-Evening
Again, to anyone that has stuck with me this long, thank you. I don’t know if I will ever write another story this long, but I think it is a testimonial to your endurance and mine that we both made it through this one. Thank you for your patience and most especially for your support.
“What in the world are you up to, monk?” Gojyo was puzzled. He was used to Sanzo being somewhat inscrutable but this evening he was being downright mysterious. It was the first night Hakkai had given him leave to go back to “normal relations,” meaning he thought it was safe for him and Sanzo to go beyond the judicious cuddling and lip-smashing they had limited themselves to since he had awakened from his coma.
Gojyo had been at a loss to understand the priest’s recent attentiveness anyway, but he guessed it must be that he felt indebted to him for the business on the mountain. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to question it, because he was loving it. Sanzo was still Sanzo, but he was finally letting Gojyo “in” – he wasn’t constantly fighting against him, always straining to keep him at arm’s length.
He had to admit (but only to himself) that when he had first woke up and had been very weak, and Sanzo had been helping Hakkai take care of him, there had been part of him that had was eating it up. He would have hated like hell to stay like that, all dependent on people for everything, but just for a little while there, having Sanzo fuss over him and coddle him was kind of nice – he had felt cared for and safe in a way he had never felt in his whole life.
But it didn’t take long, as he started getting stronger, for him to get restless to get back to the doing the things he loved, and that motivated him to work hard on doing everything he had to do to make his recovery happen as fast as possible - including getting the green light from Hakkai to get back to Sanzo’s bed.
Not all of it had been work. He had loved the time spent sparring with the monkey. He almost hesitated to call him “the monkey” anymore, the kid was acting so grown up these days. It almost made him wonder just how long he had been out of it when he looked at the saru and saw how he had changed. But he would always be the monkey to him, and together they had gotten him back into fighting trim, and he was just as good with his shakujou now as he had ever been, if not better.
He had been as surprised as anyone to find out that he could paint. He had thought ‘Kai was crazy when he suggested it, and had just tried it to humor him. Funny thing was he really enjoyed it, and when he started doing it he remembered something long-forgotten from his childhood. He remembered clearly lying on the floor of his mother’s house with his box of colored pencils, carefully drawing picture after picture for his mom and Jien. Jien would always make a big fuss and tell him how great his pictures were, and his heart would swell with pride. His mother wouldn’t even look at them, just crumple them up and throw them aside, and yell at him to get his “stupid junk” up off of “her floor,” and he would run outside trying not to let her see the tears in his eyes. Gojyo saw the act of painting now as a way of healing two things at once – the damage from his head injury, and the hurt his mother had inflicted on him all those years ago. It particularly made him happy to be able to paint pictures to give to people that he cared about. That was his favorite part about the whole thing, and they really seemed to like them when he gave them to them. He really loved that.
Sanzo had been staying with him in his room, the same room that had been acting as a makeshift hospital room all along. He had slept in the windowseat, which made Gojyo crazy, or when Gojyo insisted enough, he slept chastely in the same bed with him in his jeans and t-shirt. He would pull Gojyo to him every night and hold him close - no longer did the kappa have to go begging for that physical closeness as he once had. Gojyo noticed Sanzo seemed content to keep him very close, almost as if he was reluctant to let him go. They would kiss, sometimes even heatedly, but Sanzo would inevitably stop it before it went too far, afraid if things got too strenuous if would set back the hanyou’s recovery, and that took priority.
As soon as Hakkai had given them the go-ahead to be together again, Sanzo had begun acting strangely. Gojyo began to wonder if he was re-thinking his newfound feelings of affection for him, but as it had always been with Sanzo, he figured he would just have to go with the flow and see what happened.
Sanzo had asked him to meet him later that night at 7 o’clock, and had given him a room key, with a room number Gojyo didn’t recognize. All he would say by way of explanation was that he had a small celebration planned, and no more.
At seven o’clock Gojyo came to the room, which was on the top floor of the hotel. He had a rolled cylinder tied with a ribbon in one hand and the room key in the other. He knocked briefly, and when there was no answer he let himself in with the key. He walked into a room that was easily twice the size of the one he had been confined to for so long, with a beautiful balcony running the length of the room overlooking the town and the mountains beyond.
There was a huge, beautifully-appointed bed, a sitting area with a couch and two chairs, a dining table, and what looked to be an exceptionally-large bathroom and dressing area. The whole thing was exquisitely decorated with chinoiserie and tapestries, and large lush tropical plants throughout. The dining table was laden with a linen tablecloth, long slender lit candles, with what appeared to be a gourmet meal fully laid out on a nearby buffet in chafing dishes to keep it all warm, along with two bottles of fine sake. There were multi-colored flower arrangements by the buffet and a huge vase of beautiful peach roses on the table by the bed. He noticed an envelope in front of the vase with his name on the front, and he sat on the bed and opened it. Inside on the card in a scrawly uneven hand was written, “G – All for you. Don’t ever leave me again. Love, S.”
He looked up to see if the author of the card was anywhere in evidence and saw a blonde head peeking out of the bathroom door, eyeing him as he read the card. Without saying a word he held open his arms. Sanzo came out of the bathroom, dressed for the first time since the accident in his full priestly garb- robe sparkling white and clean, his crown, glinting in the light from the setting sun. He was even more beautiful to Gojyo now than he had been on that day so long ago when he had seen him chanting the sutra for Kanan and Hakkai, and it simply took his breath away to see him in like this once again. Sanzo came to him and took off his sutra and crown, and they fell into the large bed and made love with a sweetness and tenderness far beyond what they had ever had before.
Afterwards when they were twined together on the large bank of pillows Sanzo noticed the rolled cylinder Gojyo had brought in and laid down on the bedside table when he had sat to read the card.
“What’s that?” he pointed.
“Oh!” Gojyo exclaimed happily, “that’s for you. You said this was a celebration, so I brought you a present. I painted it for you. You know I have been trying to think of something special to paint for everybody, right? You were the hardest. I thought and I thought, and then this image popped into my head, and that was it. It wouldn’t go away and I knew it was what I had to paint for you. Here, tenshi.”
He kissed Sanzo and handed him the rolled canvas. Sanzo unrolled it and gasped at what he saw. In the background of the painting were the marble balusters of a balcony, and in the foreground, in a clear azure pool, floated one perfect magnificent lotus blossom in full bloom.
~owari~
*******************************************************************
Author’s notes:
1. As I have said before, I am not a doctor, nor do I play one on tv. Any medical expertise I have is only that I have acquired in self-defense from over ten years of dealing with my own medical problems, and a lifelong amateur interest in the field of medicine. If any medical personnel happen across this story and would be interested in helping me to correct any misrepresentations, I would encourage them to contact me.
2. Of the fortunes found by the group in their cookies that evening, all but two are actual fortunes my family and I have gotten in fortune cookies in the past year. I will leave it to the reader to guess which are the real and which are of the author’s invention.
3. The poem Hakkai refers to in his final letter to Yaone is Robert Frost’s “Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening.”
http://oldpoetry.com/opoem/show/4164-Robert-Frost-Stopping-By-Woods-On-A-Snowy-Evening
Again, to anyone that has stuck with me this long, thank you. I don’t know if I will ever write another story this long, but I think it is a testimonial to your endurance and mine that we both made it through this one. Thank you for your patience and most especially for your support.