[fic] Simple Things 11
Jun. 11th, 2009 07:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
keire_keTitle: Simple Things 11
Rating: 16
Pairings: 39, 58
Genre: horror
Warnings: cannibalism is discussed, vampirism is in effect
Summary: People want simple things. Sanzo wants his efforts recognised. Goku wants a home. Hakkai wants his friends to clean up after themselves. Gojyo wants beer.
Author notes: This fic is sponsored by Twilight, enabled by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moshesque and eyesofshinigami, and also sister (gee_nekoi), for keeping Twilight and sparkly vampires in my head by talking about them. XD For the record, this fic is a sparkle-free zone.
Most of the vampire lore in this fic (extra row of fangs, hidden in the tissue above maxillary teeth, beheading, the fact that they are not technically dead) I stole from Supernatural.
XLII.
Goku had made it. He hadn’t slept, he’d only eaten when Hakkai’d knocked on his door and made him, but he had finished everything he had to do, with time enough to print it out and hand it in. And now he would sleep through the lecture, because damn it, he deserved his rest.
“Hey hey,” said a girly voice straight into his ear.
“Go ‘way,” Goku muttered. “Sleep now.”
“You okay?”
“Hi Pip.” Goku opened an eye. “Sorry. I ain’t slept in days.”
“Done with the projects?”
“Yeah.” A yawn. “It sucked, but I did it. Gimme my medal now.”
“Don’t have medals. I have an apple, though. Want an apple?”
“Dunno, has it caffeine?”
“Not a drop,” said Pip, an advocate for Fairtrade vegetables and organic cotton.
“You’re a bad, bad person,” Goku said, taking the apple and biting into it. There was a satisfying crunch and an onslaught of juice onto his parched tongue. Pip had the best apples about her person, bless her kind heart.
“You love me.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“So, what are you doing later?”
“Sleeping, with any luck.” Goku felt the bones of his mandible move apart enough for an elephant in a pink tutu. If yawning was a way to inhale more oxygen than normal breathing, then he must have just become flammable. “God, I am so dead,” he whined. Pip patted his head.
“Welcome to the higher education.”
Goku munched on the apple, letting the crunchy juiciness do away with the wall keeping him apart from reality. It turned out to be better that caffeine. He was almost done with the apple when it turned out the wall had been there for a reason. “My head hurts,” he said, flopping back onto the desk.
“You don’t look so bad,” Pip said. “Except for the band-aid. What happened?”
“A vampire bit me,” Goku said. He wondered how cool it was, he could give an honest answer and no one would believe it. World was such a peculiar place.
“Where didja find a vampire?” asked another guy. Goku squinted at the skull emblazoned across his chest and then upwards, to the curious face framed with greenish hair.
“They are all over the place,” he said. True enough, Hakkai had said there’s more of them. One that Goku heard of in Colombia, but what’s South America with all the planes in the air?
“You’ve got to consider buying new razor every once in a while,” Pip said. Both Goku and the guy whose name eluded his memory turned to her. “What? I probably know more about razor blades than you both,” she said, poking Goku’s cheek. “You need to shave, by the way!”
“Too tired. I might slit my throat by accident, and that would just be bad.”
“I’ve seen you prance on fences, you aren’t that clumsy,” Pip said, rolling her eyes. Goku snickered into the desk. “You’ve gotta shave. You’re so baby-faced, the stubble looks horribly out of place.”
Goku grimaced. “You are terrible,” he said, hiding his face in his arms.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” Pip threw her arms around him. Goku struggled to evade the tickling. “C’mon, you’re adorable, you know that.”
“I bloody well hope so,” Goku muttered. When he looked up the kid with the skull was still staring at him. “Didja want something? Only I’m totally dead today, so don’t expect much.”
“I haven’t figured you for the vampire-loving type,” the guy said, seating himself beside Goku. “Zakuro.”
“Believe me, it’s news to me too.” Goku held out his hand. “Goku.”
“So which is it, Buffy, Blade, Underworld? Don’t tell me it’s Van Helsing.” Zakuro grinned, sliding as low as possible, without having his arse lose the contact with the chair.
“Bela Lugosi,” Goku said. “Ya can’t resist a fellow in a cape and tuxedo.”
Zakuro made an expression, which could only be described as a boggle. “That’s ancient!”
“It’s awesome. For the record, old man Van Helsing would totally kick Hugh Jackman’s ass.”
“You wish!”
“And Buffy would run laps around them both,” Pip said, inspecting her nails.
Goku gave the statement due consideration. There was no flaw that he could spot. “True, but I still say Bela Lugosi is awesome,” he said, and then the PhD in front of the lecture hall switched off the light and switched on the screen.
“Close the door, please,” he said.
Goku groaned. Of all the days for this guy to be the one in charge of lecturing… he was gonna fall asleep and do something embarrassing, he just knew he would. “Poke me,” he told Pip, “if I fall asleep.”
“You got it,” she said, her teeth flashing with a stray beam of light.
Goku nodded, propped his chin on his folded arms and slept. That is, listened. It was too bad he couldn’t recall a word.
XLIII.
Sanzo had spent the morning sitting in the window of his apartment, staring off into space. There was something crispy in the air, the kind of big city crisp that had little to do with frost and everything to do with a million people breathing out at once. He’d been hungry; thankfully he’d stocked his fridge the day before, so there’d been no problem fetching a glass of blood, which he nursed for the better part of his brooding. He’d watched his reflection in the windowpane and had been forced to admit his expression was sour. He’d finished the glass at set it aside. He had no idea how Kougaji lived off animal blood all this time. It was vile, plain and simple. It offered sustenance, but not much past satisfying the bare needs.
The blood that was too little to live with and too much to die from inevitably turned his mind to Goku, which was how he found himself on the street opposite the building that housed Goku’s classes. He was in luck; the lecture had just finished, letting out a stream of teenagers. Sanzo swallowed the drool, even before he smelled Goku among them. So much fresh, young blood he could be tearing into, and then, like a cherry atop the whipped cream, Goku appeared, a bouncing, smiling ball of golden and amber threads, bestowed with generosity on everything he’d been in contact with. Picking out his friends from the crowd was as easy as shooting sitting ducks.
Sanzo cursed himself for showing up anywhere near youngsters without a proper meal. His mouth was flooding with saliva at an alarming rate, and Goku was coming closer.
“Hello,” he said when Goku levelled with the corner.
Goku jumped. “Jesus Christ on a cracker. The hell are you doing here?”
“Standing.”
“Smart ass. I mean, what for?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“That’s nice,” Goku said, taking a step back. “Why?”
“I’m hungry,” Sanzo confessed and watched Goku’s face crumble in panic. He allowed it for a few moments, then took pity on the boy. “I had some today. It was sufficient.”
“So, you ain’t gonna try and kill me?”
“I won’t,” Sanzo said. He closed the distance between them, staring deep into Goku’s eyes. “I will not let you come to harm.”
“Yeah, okay,” Goku said. “It’s nice. But I’m really tired. I need sleep.”
He started walking. Sanzo forced himself to match his pace, though it wasn’t easy, when his preferred method of getting around the city was leaping from building to building. Then they stopped and Sanzo, on the verge of asking the purpose of the pause, opened his mouth, before he realised it was a bus stop.
“You got cash?” Goku asked. “I’ve a travelcard, but you’re gonna need a ticket.”
Sanzo stared at him and started checking his pockets. He came up with a tenner, which he held up for inspection. “Never mind,” Goku said. The bus arrived and Goku stepped on, gesturing at Sanzo to follow. He showed the pass to the driver and dropped a couple of coins in the tray. “For him,” Goku said, nodding in Sanzo’s direction.
Sanzo supposed it must be strange, that he hadn’t been on a bus in his life. He said as much to Goku, which earned him an incredulous look. “What, seriously?”
“Why would I lie?”
“Wow. I probably should have expected this. What kinda car do you have?”
“I don’t drive.”
“At all?”
“I don’t have a licence,” Sanzo said. This was only a little embarrassing. He had tried, in the fifties, but the purpose of speed limits eluded him and the examiner felt he was a danger to the general public. To this day Sanzo was unsure how Hakkai passed his tests. True, these days the internal combustion engine could go faster than a vampire could run, but those speeds were hard to reach within city limits. Not enough room, for one.
“Welcome to the club. I never had a car, so I figured what’s the point? Not that it wouldn’t be nice, mind. Driving is kinda cool.”
“I could buy you a car,” Sanzo said, without thinking. Goku awarded him a long look.
“I don’t need a car,” Goku said. He was angry. Sanzo felt like he should know why that was. “And I don’t need your charity.”
“It’s not charity,” Sanzo said.
“Then what is it? You wanna own me? You figure if ya buy me something expensive I’ll let you have at my neck?
“Of course not!”
“See, this I can’t figure out. Whatcha want with me in the first place? It ain’t like I’m so very smart and original. You gave up on trying to eat me, unless it tastes best by surprise and I’m doomed anyhow. Whatcha want from me, Sanzo?” Goku asked.
Sanzo had no idea. He looked out the window, staring at the passing cars in silence. At his side Goku let out a huff and pressed his forehead against the cold glass.
“I don’t wanna be something to buy,” he said.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, I hope so. Else I’d be kickin’ you arse onto the curb, see?”
“As if.”
“I could so kick your arse,” Goku said, grinning.
Sanzo smiled in response, because it was hard to stay solemn in the face of the happiness Goku exuded. “You wish.”
“Could too! Gimme a fryin’ pan and you’re toast.”
“That was a miscalculation on my part.”
“I still kicked your butt!”
“It won’t happen again.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Goku leaned towards him when the bus veered, and didn’t move away.
“How’s your neck?” Sanzo asked quietly. A needless question, for he could smell that the band-aid was there for show rather than out of need. The skin mended to a satisfactory degree, all that remained was a scab that would fall off on its own, in a matter of days.
“Ah, fine. I mostly keep the plaster on so that I don’t scratch at it.”
“Good choice,” Sanzo said. It would have been very difficult to resist, had Goku been wandering around with bloody scratches on his neck.
The bus stopped at an intersection and Goku pressed a button on the pole. “My stop is next,” he explained. “This lets the driver know I want off.” Sanzo nodded and filed the piece of information away, though it wasn’t like the knowledge was going to come in handy.
He followed Goku off the bus and into the building. He followed him up the stairs and to the door of number nine, at which point Goku turned to look at him. “Okay, this was nice, thank you. I’m sorry, but I really need some sleep now.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Cool. See you tomorrow? We could grab a coffee or something.”
“Sounds fine,” Sanzo said.
“Well, goodnight then.”
Sanzo was about to protest, but Goku shut the door in his face. Sanzo was left alone the in corridor, staring at the tarnished wood. The little bastard had closed the door in his face!
XLIV.
Sanzo slammed the door on his way in to the apartment. Gojyo didn’t move from his spot on the couch. Door slamming, when it came to Sanzo, was a poor indication of emotional state – he did it so often, Hakkai contemplated installing a sliding screen.
“That little bastard,” Sanzo groused, falling onto the couch.
“What did he do?” Gojyo asked, opening an eye. Far as he could tell, Goku had fallen into bed as he stood, unharmed and content. No signs of struggle or emotional distress.
“He closed the fucking door in my face!”
“Yes, see this is called a boundary. Learn to respect it.”
“Says you,” Sanzo huffed.
“Hey, I am the youngest, which means my insight into the human psyche is freshest.”
“You have never been human,” Sanzo pointed out.
“No, but I have less angst than you. Hell, I have less angst than you on happy pills, so there.”
“What’s your point?”
“He’s what, twenty? He’s a kid. Give him some space. He’s not gonna want to spend every waking hour in your esteemed company.”
Sanzo narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”
“For one thing, you’re a dick. For another, if he were so clingy, when would you brood?” Gojyo watched Sanzo consider that in turn. He would fall prey to his logic, even despite the urge – and here Gojyo was guessing – to stand guard and make sure no one ever came close to the kid.
“What am I supposed to do, then?”
“Dunno. Get another hobby. Try painting a picture. Learn to drive. Knit, maybe crochet. Take up carpentry, you could use a new coffin.”
“I don’t know why I bother talking to you,” Sanzo said.
“Because I’m awesome, and let’s face it, Hakkai’s understanding of human nature is more hunter-y than a fellow Joe Average. Obviously, not a good wooing tactic in this day and age.” Sanzo observed him through narrowed eyes. Gojyo offered him a grin in return, partly because he knew it would be annoying.
He had wondered, in the beginning of his admission to the small coven, how was it that vampires never took over the Earth. While intelligence was not required to become a bloodsucker, natural selection was at work. The stupid didn’t live long enough to amount to much, and the ones that had the brain cells to rub together had the benefit of experience. They could multiply faster than bunnies and the only way to reliably kill them was by a thorough hacking. It wasn’t like the sun was much of a deterrent either. All an older vampire required for relative comfort were sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat and long-sleeved garments. True, this was a skill that took a couple decades to come into (Hakkai tried explaining, once – apparently, this was a case of self-control and concentration, hence Sanzo’s nasty burns when Goku stabbed his eye out), but once acquired, served well. So, what was the reason humanity wasn’t yet out on the grazing fields, waiting for the vampires to decide they want a drink?
It had taken a couple years of careful observation before finally Gojyo arrived at a conclusion: it was because the vampires suffered from solipsism. In all fairness, they grew out of it, to a degree, and when they did return to balance they recognised themselves for what they were: parasites, preying on humanity. Parasite could not take control; it was hardwired into the very nature of things. It was kinda sad, all things considered, but Gojyo supposed that was how Mother Nature, the magnificent bitch that she was, made sure the vampires stayed in line.
“Look, the kid likes you. I know that, you know that, he knows that, which is probably most important. He’s a little stupid when it comes to self-preservation, which works out in your favour. If he had half a brain, he’d move to Cairo, or some other place you bloodsuckers found repelling.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Sanzo asked, in a rare show of helplessness. Gojyo sat up, suddenly uncertain. It wasn’t often he got to dispense advice.
“Well, stalking don’t seem like such a good idea, if you want advice from me,” he said, scratching his head. “Look, the kid don’t understand what it means, exactly, that you can smell him coming from a mile away. He’s got no way to get it. Don’t show up at random where he is,” Sanzo winced at that, which told Gojyo everything he needed to know about the day, “don’t follow him, for god’s sake. Try to keep up the illusion you are at least somewhat human.”
“How? By behaving like you?”
“Oh God, please no. That would be very disturbing.”
“I haven’t been human for far longer than you,” Sanzo said. He leaned back in his chair and directed his gaze at the ceiling.
“Did it somehow escape your attention that I sometimes turn into a large wolf?” Gojyo asked. “Seriously? I know you’ve only seen me walk out the room humanoid and in canine, but I figured you brighter than Lois Lane.”
“What?”
“I,” Gojyo said slowly, in case that helped Sanzo to understand better, “have never been human. God damn it, you know that. I grant you, I’ve only been able to shift once adolescence had passed, but I have always known I would be able to. Always had issues with smelling more than a human should, come to think of it. Being a werewolf in a locker room sucked, let me tell you.”
“Then how come you’re the one to give me advice?”
“What, you wanted Hakkai to give you relationship advice?”
“… no.”
“There you go, then.”
XLV.
Once Hakkai had found peace in the church of Saint Katherine. He’d developed a habit of returning there, whenever he sought peace. He was not sentimental. Whatever respects he paid, he didn’t let them overshadow his present life. He visited the building when he needed insight, as there were few places as conducive to thought as an empty church. Here, Hakkai could sit in a pew for hours on end, staring at the stained glass, allowing his mind to wander. Most times he trusted that, given enough time, he would come by a solution. Most times he was right.
This one time, however, was different. He had thought he had had the solution in his hands, before Gojyo pointed out the inherent flaw in his reasoning.
He had imagined it would be best to include Goku in their tiny commune, sooner rather than later. However, Goku was human, and to take that away may well ruin whatever connection he’d forged with Sanzo. On the other hand, there was no doubt that his very humanity was going to rip apart the tentative bond before long. He would grow old before Sanzo had the chance to truly embrace the relationship. Hakkai knew from personal experience that it took a tremendous effort for a vampire to develop a genuine attachment. Decades, even. He had been with Gojyo almost half a century and only now was he beginning to appreciate the connection they shared in all its glory. Such was the problem with immortality: the mind took time to grow into what the brain’s tissue had known all along. Though he had been acquainted with only a few other vampires, he knew that turning caused internal struggles for all – the human mind at first found the impulses of its new nature abhorrent, and when it, at long last, came to accept them as its own nature, the vampire came to realise that in the mean time he had outgrown the childish need for power. Wasn’t power a way of living forever, after all? Hakkai had long suspected it was a defence the natural world instilled into their own heads, against the creatures that could, with little effort, destroy humanity. It came as a surprise that humans escaped with something as banal as empathy, which was in many cases defective, anyway.
There was the concern that a vampire without a strong enough turmoil would cause untold damage for the few who were keen on quiet living, but in such a case others would step in to neutralise the threat. There was no official governing body. There had never been the need for one.
Hakkai smiled at the saint staring at him from the stained glass. He sat in the empty church, admiring the play of light on the interior. It had been a bright day in the late nineteenth century, when he’d come to the church, blood staining his hands and his clothes, seeking whatever peace he could be granted. There was none. Instead he had met his saviour, glaringly bright in the halo of the rosette window.
Master Post :: Next Part
Rating: 16
Pairings: 39, 58
Genre: horror
Warnings: cannibalism is discussed, vampirism is in effect
Summary: People want simple things. Sanzo wants his efforts recognised. Goku wants a home. Hakkai wants his friends to clean up after themselves. Gojyo wants beer.
Author notes: This fic is sponsored by Twilight, enabled by
moshesque and eyesofshinigami, and also sister (gee_nekoi), for keeping Twilight and sparkly vampires in my head by talking about them. XD For the record, this fic is a sparkle-free zone.Most of the vampire lore in this fic (extra row of fangs, hidden in the tissue above maxillary teeth, beheading, the fact that they are not technically dead) I stole from Supernatural.
XLII.
Goku had made it. He hadn’t slept, he’d only eaten when Hakkai’d knocked on his door and made him, but he had finished everything he had to do, with time enough to print it out and hand it in. And now he would sleep through the lecture, because damn it, he deserved his rest.
“Hey hey,” said a girly voice straight into his ear.
“Go ‘way,” Goku muttered. “Sleep now.”
“You okay?”
“Hi Pip.” Goku opened an eye. “Sorry. I ain’t slept in days.”
“Done with the projects?”
“Yeah.” A yawn. “It sucked, but I did it. Gimme my medal now.”
“Don’t have medals. I have an apple, though. Want an apple?”
“Dunno, has it caffeine?”
“Not a drop,” said Pip, an advocate for Fairtrade vegetables and organic cotton.
“You’re a bad, bad person,” Goku said, taking the apple and biting into it. There was a satisfying crunch and an onslaught of juice onto his parched tongue. Pip had the best apples about her person, bless her kind heart.
“You love me.”
“That’s one way of looking at it.”
“So, what are you doing later?”
“Sleeping, with any luck.” Goku felt the bones of his mandible move apart enough for an elephant in a pink tutu. If yawning was a way to inhale more oxygen than normal breathing, then he must have just become flammable. “God, I am so dead,” he whined. Pip patted his head.
“Welcome to the higher education.”
Goku munched on the apple, letting the crunchy juiciness do away with the wall keeping him apart from reality. It turned out to be better that caffeine. He was almost done with the apple when it turned out the wall had been there for a reason. “My head hurts,” he said, flopping back onto the desk.
“You don’t look so bad,” Pip said. “Except for the band-aid. What happened?”
“A vampire bit me,” Goku said. He wondered how cool it was, he could give an honest answer and no one would believe it. World was such a peculiar place.
“Where didja find a vampire?” asked another guy. Goku squinted at the skull emblazoned across his chest and then upwards, to the curious face framed with greenish hair.
“They are all over the place,” he said. True enough, Hakkai had said there’s more of them. One that Goku heard of in Colombia, but what’s South America with all the planes in the air?
“You’ve got to consider buying new razor every once in a while,” Pip said. Both Goku and the guy whose name eluded his memory turned to her. “What? I probably know more about razor blades than you both,” she said, poking Goku’s cheek. “You need to shave, by the way!”
“Too tired. I might slit my throat by accident, and that would just be bad.”
“I’ve seen you prance on fences, you aren’t that clumsy,” Pip said, rolling her eyes. Goku snickered into the desk. “You’ve gotta shave. You’re so baby-faced, the stubble looks horribly out of place.”
Goku grimaced. “You are terrible,” he said, hiding his face in his arms.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” Pip threw her arms around him. Goku struggled to evade the tickling. “C’mon, you’re adorable, you know that.”
“I bloody well hope so,” Goku muttered. When he looked up the kid with the skull was still staring at him. “Didja want something? Only I’m totally dead today, so don’t expect much.”
“I haven’t figured you for the vampire-loving type,” the guy said, seating himself beside Goku. “Zakuro.”
“Believe me, it’s news to me too.” Goku held out his hand. “Goku.”
“So which is it, Buffy, Blade, Underworld? Don’t tell me it’s Van Helsing.” Zakuro grinned, sliding as low as possible, without having his arse lose the contact with the chair.
“Bela Lugosi,” Goku said. “Ya can’t resist a fellow in a cape and tuxedo.”
Zakuro made an expression, which could only be described as a boggle. “That’s ancient!”
“It’s awesome. For the record, old man Van Helsing would totally kick Hugh Jackman’s ass.”
“You wish!”
“And Buffy would run laps around them both,” Pip said, inspecting her nails.
Goku gave the statement due consideration. There was no flaw that he could spot. “True, but I still say Bela Lugosi is awesome,” he said, and then the PhD in front of the lecture hall switched off the light and switched on the screen.
“Close the door, please,” he said.
Goku groaned. Of all the days for this guy to be the one in charge of lecturing… he was gonna fall asleep and do something embarrassing, he just knew he would. “Poke me,” he told Pip, “if I fall asleep.”
“You got it,” she said, her teeth flashing with a stray beam of light.
Goku nodded, propped his chin on his folded arms and slept. That is, listened. It was too bad he couldn’t recall a word.
XLIII.
Sanzo had spent the morning sitting in the window of his apartment, staring off into space. There was something crispy in the air, the kind of big city crisp that had little to do with frost and everything to do with a million people breathing out at once. He’d been hungry; thankfully he’d stocked his fridge the day before, so there’d been no problem fetching a glass of blood, which he nursed for the better part of his brooding. He’d watched his reflection in the windowpane and had been forced to admit his expression was sour. He’d finished the glass at set it aside. He had no idea how Kougaji lived off animal blood all this time. It was vile, plain and simple. It offered sustenance, but not much past satisfying the bare needs.
The blood that was too little to live with and too much to die from inevitably turned his mind to Goku, which was how he found himself on the street opposite the building that housed Goku’s classes. He was in luck; the lecture had just finished, letting out a stream of teenagers. Sanzo swallowed the drool, even before he smelled Goku among them. So much fresh, young blood he could be tearing into, and then, like a cherry atop the whipped cream, Goku appeared, a bouncing, smiling ball of golden and amber threads, bestowed with generosity on everything he’d been in contact with. Picking out his friends from the crowd was as easy as shooting sitting ducks.
Sanzo cursed himself for showing up anywhere near youngsters without a proper meal. His mouth was flooding with saliva at an alarming rate, and Goku was coming closer.
“Hello,” he said when Goku levelled with the corner.
Goku jumped. “Jesus Christ on a cracker. The hell are you doing here?”
“Standing.”
“Smart ass. I mean, what for?”
“I was waiting for you.”
“That’s nice,” Goku said, taking a step back. “Why?”
“I’m hungry,” Sanzo confessed and watched Goku’s face crumble in panic. He allowed it for a few moments, then took pity on the boy. “I had some today. It was sufficient.”
“So, you ain’t gonna try and kill me?”
“I won’t,” Sanzo said. He closed the distance between them, staring deep into Goku’s eyes. “I will not let you come to harm.”
“Yeah, okay,” Goku said. “It’s nice. But I’m really tired. I need sleep.”
He started walking. Sanzo forced himself to match his pace, though it wasn’t easy, when his preferred method of getting around the city was leaping from building to building. Then they stopped and Sanzo, on the verge of asking the purpose of the pause, opened his mouth, before he realised it was a bus stop.
“You got cash?” Goku asked. “I’ve a travelcard, but you’re gonna need a ticket.”
Sanzo stared at him and started checking his pockets. He came up with a tenner, which he held up for inspection. “Never mind,” Goku said. The bus arrived and Goku stepped on, gesturing at Sanzo to follow. He showed the pass to the driver and dropped a couple of coins in the tray. “For him,” Goku said, nodding in Sanzo’s direction.
Sanzo supposed it must be strange, that he hadn’t been on a bus in his life. He said as much to Goku, which earned him an incredulous look. “What, seriously?”
“Why would I lie?”
“Wow. I probably should have expected this. What kinda car do you have?”
“I don’t drive.”
“At all?”
“I don’t have a licence,” Sanzo said. This was only a little embarrassing. He had tried, in the fifties, but the purpose of speed limits eluded him and the examiner felt he was a danger to the general public. To this day Sanzo was unsure how Hakkai passed his tests. True, these days the internal combustion engine could go faster than a vampire could run, but those speeds were hard to reach within city limits. Not enough room, for one.
“Welcome to the club. I never had a car, so I figured what’s the point? Not that it wouldn’t be nice, mind. Driving is kinda cool.”
“I could buy you a car,” Sanzo said, without thinking. Goku awarded him a long look.
“I don’t need a car,” Goku said. He was angry. Sanzo felt like he should know why that was. “And I don’t need your charity.”
“It’s not charity,” Sanzo said.
“Then what is it? You wanna own me? You figure if ya buy me something expensive I’ll let you have at my neck?
“Of course not!”
“See, this I can’t figure out. Whatcha want with me in the first place? It ain’t like I’m so very smart and original. You gave up on trying to eat me, unless it tastes best by surprise and I’m doomed anyhow. Whatcha want from me, Sanzo?” Goku asked.
Sanzo had no idea. He looked out the window, staring at the passing cars in silence. At his side Goku let out a huff and pressed his forehead against the cold glass.
“I don’t wanna be something to buy,” he said.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Well, I hope so. Else I’d be kickin’ you arse onto the curb, see?”
“As if.”
“I could so kick your arse,” Goku said, grinning.
Sanzo smiled in response, because it was hard to stay solemn in the face of the happiness Goku exuded. “You wish.”
“Could too! Gimme a fryin’ pan and you’re toast.”
“That was a miscalculation on my part.”
“I still kicked your butt!”
“It won’t happen again.”
“You keep telling yourself that,” Goku leaned towards him when the bus veered, and didn’t move away.
“How’s your neck?” Sanzo asked quietly. A needless question, for he could smell that the band-aid was there for show rather than out of need. The skin mended to a satisfactory degree, all that remained was a scab that would fall off on its own, in a matter of days.
“Ah, fine. I mostly keep the plaster on so that I don’t scratch at it.”
“Good choice,” Sanzo said. It would have been very difficult to resist, had Goku been wandering around with bloody scratches on his neck.
The bus stopped at an intersection and Goku pressed a button on the pole. “My stop is next,” he explained. “This lets the driver know I want off.” Sanzo nodded and filed the piece of information away, though it wasn’t like the knowledge was going to come in handy.
He followed Goku off the bus and into the building. He followed him up the stairs and to the door of number nine, at which point Goku turned to look at him. “Okay, this was nice, thank you. I’m sorry, but I really need some sleep now.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Cool. See you tomorrow? We could grab a coffee or something.”
“Sounds fine,” Sanzo said.
“Well, goodnight then.”
Sanzo was about to protest, but Goku shut the door in his face. Sanzo was left alone the in corridor, staring at the tarnished wood. The little bastard had closed the door in his face!
XLIV.
Sanzo slammed the door on his way in to the apartment. Gojyo didn’t move from his spot on the couch. Door slamming, when it came to Sanzo, was a poor indication of emotional state – he did it so often, Hakkai contemplated installing a sliding screen.
“That little bastard,” Sanzo groused, falling onto the couch.
“What did he do?” Gojyo asked, opening an eye. Far as he could tell, Goku had fallen into bed as he stood, unharmed and content. No signs of struggle or emotional distress.
“He closed the fucking door in my face!”
“Yes, see this is called a boundary. Learn to respect it.”
“Says you,” Sanzo huffed.
“Hey, I am the youngest, which means my insight into the human psyche is freshest.”
“You have never been human,” Sanzo pointed out.
“No, but I have less angst than you. Hell, I have less angst than you on happy pills, so there.”
“What’s your point?”
“He’s what, twenty? He’s a kid. Give him some space. He’s not gonna want to spend every waking hour in your esteemed company.”
Sanzo narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”
“For one thing, you’re a dick. For another, if he were so clingy, when would you brood?” Gojyo watched Sanzo consider that in turn. He would fall prey to his logic, even despite the urge – and here Gojyo was guessing – to stand guard and make sure no one ever came close to the kid.
“What am I supposed to do, then?”
“Dunno. Get another hobby. Try painting a picture. Learn to drive. Knit, maybe crochet. Take up carpentry, you could use a new coffin.”
“I don’t know why I bother talking to you,” Sanzo said.
“Because I’m awesome, and let’s face it, Hakkai’s understanding of human nature is more hunter-y than a fellow Joe Average. Obviously, not a good wooing tactic in this day and age.” Sanzo observed him through narrowed eyes. Gojyo offered him a grin in return, partly because he knew it would be annoying.
He had wondered, in the beginning of his admission to the small coven, how was it that vampires never took over the Earth. While intelligence was not required to become a bloodsucker, natural selection was at work. The stupid didn’t live long enough to amount to much, and the ones that had the brain cells to rub together had the benefit of experience. They could multiply faster than bunnies and the only way to reliably kill them was by a thorough hacking. It wasn’t like the sun was much of a deterrent either. All an older vampire required for relative comfort were sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat and long-sleeved garments. True, this was a skill that took a couple decades to come into (Hakkai tried explaining, once – apparently, this was a case of self-control and concentration, hence Sanzo’s nasty burns when Goku stabbed his eye out), but once acquired, served well. So, what was the reason humanity wasn’t yet out on the grazing fields, waiting for the vampires to decide they want a drink?
It had taken a couple years of careful observation before finally Gojyo arrived at a conclusion: it was because the vampires suffered from solipsism. In all fairness, they grew out of it, to a degree, and when they did return to balance they recognised themselves for what they were: parasites, preying on humanity. Parasite could not take control; it was hardwired into the very nature of things. It was kinda sad, all things considered, but Gojyo supposed that was how Mother Nature, the magnificent bitch that she was, made sure the vampires stayed in line.
“Look, the kid likes you. I know that, you know that, he knows that, which is probably most important. He’s a little stupid when it comes to self-preservation, which works out in your favour. If he had half a brain, he’d move to Cairo, or some other place you bloodsuckers found repelling.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” Sanzo asked, in a rare show of helplessness. Gojyo sat up, suddenly uncertain. It wasn’t often he got to dispense advice.
“Well, stalking don’t seem like such a good idea, if you want advice from me,” he said, scratching his head. “Look, the kid don’t understand what it means, exactly, that you can smell him coming from a mile away. He’s got no way to get it. Don’t show up at random where he is,” Sanzo winced at that, which told Gojyo everything he needed to know about the day, “don’t follow him, for god’s sake. Try to keep up the illusion you are at least somewhat human.”
“How? By behaving like you?”
“Oh God, please no. That would be very disturbing.”
“I haven’t been human for far longer than you,” Sanzo said. He leaned back in his chair and directed his gaze at the ceiling.
“Did it somehow escape your attention that I sometimes turn into a large wolf?” Gojyo asked. “Seriously? I know you’ve only seen me walk out the room humanoid and in canine, but I figured you brighter than Lois Lane.”
“What?”
“I,” Gojyo said slowly, in case that helped Sanzo to understand better, “have never been human. God damn it, you know that. I grant you, I’ve only been able to shift once adolescence had passed, but I have always known I would be able to. Always had issues with smelling more than a human should, come to think of it. Being a werewolf in a locker room sucked, let me tell you.”
“Then how come you’re the one to give me advice?”
“What, you wanted Hakkai to give you relationship advice?”
“… no.”
“There you go, then.”
XLV.
Once Hakkai had found peace in the church of Saint Katherine. He’d developed a habit of returning there, whenever he sought peace. He was not sentimental. Whatever respects he paid, he didn’t let them overshadow his present life. He visited the building when he needed insight, as there were few places as conducive to thought as an empty church. Here, Hakkai could sit in a pew for hours on end, staring at the stained glass, allowing his mind to wander. Most times he trusted that, given enough time, he would come by a solution. Most times he was right.
This one time, however, was different. He had thought he had had the solution in his hands, before Gojyo pointed out the inherent flaw in his reasoning.
He had imagined it would be best to include Goku in their tiny commune, sooner rather than later. However, Goku was human, and to take that away may well ruin whatever connection he’d forged with Sanzo. On the other hand, there was no doubt that his very humanity was going to rip apart the tentative bond before long. He would grow old before Sanzo had the chance to truly embrace the relationship. Hakkai knew from personal experience that it took a tremendous effort for a vampire to develop a genuine attachment. Decades, even. He had been with Gojyo almost half a century and only now was he beginning to appreciate the connection they shared in all its glory. Such was the problem with immortality: the mind took time to grow into what the brain’s tissue had known all along. Though he had been acquainted with only a few other vampires, he knew that turning caused internal struggles for all – the human mind at first found the impulses of its new nature abhorrent, and when it, at long last, came to accept them as its own nature, the vampire came to realise that in the mean time he had outgrown the childish need for power. Wasn’t power a way of living forever, after all? Hakkai had long suspected it was a defence the natural world instilled into their own heads, against the creatures that could, with little effort, destroy humanity. It came as a surprise that humans escaped with something as banal as empathy, which was in many cases defective, anyway.
There was the concern that a vampire without a strong enough turmoil would cause untold damage for the few who were keen on quiet living, but in such a case others would step in to neutralise the threat. There was no official governing body. There had never been the need for one.
Hakkai smiled at the saint staring at him from the stained glass. He sat in the empty church, admiring the play of light on the interior. It had been a bright day in the late nineteenth century, when he’d come to the church, blood staining his hands and his clothes, seeking whatever peace he could be granted. There was none. Instead he had met his saviour, glaringly bright in the halo of the rosette window.
Master Post :: Next Part
