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The way of the lost	By : Triyune Category: Gensomaden Saiyuki > Yaoi - Male/Male > Sanzo/Gojiyo Views: 1064 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Saiyuki belongs to Kazuya Minekura and I don't make money out of it.

Chapter List
- 1-The way of the lost
- 2-Redemption
- 1
- 2
He was sitting on my bed. I could feel his presence. But I did not want to open my eyes. He’d know that I was awake. I licked my lips. That awful taste. Sweat on my face too, it was all wet under that blanket.

I needed something to replace that taste in my mouth. It reminded me of shit times. Too much.

Somehow, that moment I had so desperately clung to had gone. In silence. I was angry. Just like that, escaped in silence.

I felt too depressed again than to save my ass.

“Why have you eaten the rice if you felt sick, Sir?”

He made me smile. I was glad my efforts had been worth it, and my words had come to fruition.

“I’ve...promised,” I mumbled into the pillow. I felt so damn tired, I cared shit about anything. It felt good there. Warm, moist, comfortable. All I just needed.

“But, Sir, that’s not what I meant, what I-“

“I know. Say no more”

And he said no more.

I straightened my back and buried my head in the pillow.

“Save me.”

Muffled, voiceless. Indirect, impersonal, implicit. And, though, it hurt to say these words. But he did not give me much time, fortunately, to indulge in my negative feelings at that.

“Sir, I can’t. Only you can save yourself.”

Disappointing. How should I...

I buried my head deeper in the pillow and felt the warm wetness of my tears. It was hopeless. Sobbing, I moved under the blanket. More awful smell under it; the sweat, the urine. No cure. No hope.

“How can I?!” I screamed from under the blanket, feeling the despair making way for something else.

Something else more potential. Something darker. Something more dangerous than anything.

I threw the blanket off my head, jumped from the bed in my wrath and yelled, “What can -I- do?! What can this shit priest do, hah? Do I have a choice?! How should -I- change ANYTHING, can you tell me?!”

The little one stood there, frozen, staring at me.

“How could I-“

I stumbled backwards against the wall, suddenly not seeing anything anymore, blind, only gold and black patterns in front of my eyes; a bitter taste in the back of my mouth, no air in my lungs. I was panting, pressing my body against the wall and waiting for this goddamn fit to die away.

“Point the gun at other heads than yours,” he said quietly.

It made me turn my head to where I supposed he was standing. Slowly, I could see colours returning, darker and brighter spots appearing again, things less blurred.

I slumped down on the bed, defeated and taken by surprise at the same time.

He was a gift from the gods.

Blinking, I tried to get my head to lie on the thing where it was supposed to lie. I was feeling much too hot than to cover my body with the blanket again. The boy knew about his own anatomy well, he must have seen some other male genitals by now in this house of...godly love. So I let it be. He was no danger to me. Not even when I was semi-hard. When I was agitated that just could happen.

“Leave,” I said in a calm voice, as calm as it could be at least, closing my eyes.

And he left without any further words, but still bowing down for his Sir before he turned to leave.

Point the gun at other heads than yours.

I was trying to calm down. I was warm there. I was protected. Protected by a little boy. I felt safe there. And so I fell asleep soon.

___

White light everywhere. I jerked awake from sleep, screamed with terror, then pain somewhere, awful noise...

As I returned to consciousness again I realized that I had thrown myself against the wall in shock; too hard. My heart was about to stand still and I felt so paralysed that I could not even breathe. Light everywhere...I narrowed my eyes but it did not turn less intense because of that. I pressed myself against the wall in blind panic; bright, so bright -SUDDENLY- pain...my cheek....I slumped down, but, there was something on my jaw, round my chin, then a little lower -I got lifted up by it, a hand...

“Ch...wh-ch...”

The face of the goddess of mercy.

Surrounded by light, brighter than the sun, but I could see her finally, or she had revealed herself to me finally.

And what I saw did not bode well for me. Not really. She had a threatening look in her eyes. Dangerous. A goddess.

“How come,” she said with this jingling but terribly spiteful, or was it just sardonic voice, “How come that you always conk out during my prayer? Are ye down on me or what?”

I could not but cough. That personality kept my eyes open; I knew that if she had not been in the room I’d have passed out already again. She controlled my body, I could feel it. Why couldn’t she fucking come at daytime-

“Well, cause I like the night,” she snapped, “And secondly, I’m no she.”

The fingers round my throat disappeared, my feet touched the floor and let me down of course, so I ungainly fell on the bed, ass first, head later, hard against the wall. I moaned and suddenly had no interest in her anymore. Did everyone enjoy fucking me like that? Was it so pleasing for all of them to see me in my misery, and to even cause me additional misery? Did my desperate face turn them on? Fucking sadists-

-her toes in my mouth.

I could not move but I was wide-eyed. Her toes moved around in my moistness; cosy, warm, I could understand too well; until she moved her foot downwards and let her toes slide over my lips, then over my chin...how could she be so fucking-

“I’M NO SHE!!!” she yelled and kicked my head backwards so that it wisely collided with the well-known and by now familiar wall again.

“What...are you...then,” I gasped, trying to pull myself together for the goddess. My head hurt too much. I was close to passing out. But she kept me awake.

Veils parted as she freed her legs from the voluminous dress she wore and one moment later she sat on my thighs and rubbed her immense penis against my crotch. She propped herself up on her hands on my thigh and leaned closer towards my face.

“Does a ‘She’ have that?”

Disgust and lust filled my vessels up at the same time. No chance.

She smiled a beautiful smile and the disgust was gone. The way she wanted it.

“Sure,” I panted.

Her behaviour was unsettling but I had no choice, I had to comply and accept it.

She threw her head back and her penis twitched.

“Yeah I forgot you’re the one wearing dresses...”, she said tauntingly.

“Never heard from ‘She who must be obeyed’,” I asked, sneering at her.

“That piece of the Western world, you mean”

“She’s pretty much like you,” I kept on teasing her. I was so stupid as to think I was superior for a short moment. But of course she immediately crushed this little vain idea.

“Only that I can be more cruel,” she hissed, suddenly completely serious and threatening.

It took my breath away. I stared at her, feeling these intense waves of energy from her, destructive energy, chaos...if She wanted it. I swallowed hard and searched for words in my mind to distract her from this lethal game she was playing with me.

“You’re the goddess of mercy, how could you,” and I forced myself to lift one eyebrow and sound as stable as I could at that moment.

She gave me a one-sided smirk in return, parted my legs within a second and shoved her elephantine penis into the only body opening into which it could be shoved at that moment.

I burst into a silent scream and cramped up; excruciating pain in my lower regions killing every clear thought. I could not breathe at all; it sounded close to wheezing mixed with moans...and I did not get enough air into my lungs to supply the brain with the load of oxygen it usually needed.

My head fell back and tears ran down my forehead.

Why did everyone enjoy it so much to fuck me...I could not believe it. I could barely believe anything anymore. Did I wear a sign, invisible for me but visible for others on my chest, saying ‘Fuck me, I’m hot for it’? Did I-

“No, but you wear it. It is in your appearance, in your behaviour. You wear it on your outside. Distrusting every human being, sending out these vibes which speak of rape and pain”

When I thought she was done teaching me that lesson she thought she had had to teach me and she’d stop she only pushed it in further. It felt like an anaconda eating up my bowels, stinging and burning inside...and to my most displeasure, that giant-sized penis was too much for my little prostate. Apart from that I was sure she was manipulating my mind as well. My dick was hard in a second. Standing between my and her face.

Awful.

“Do you understand? You must stop telling everyone how hurt you are”

I didn’t do that, what the hell was she telling me? I told fucking no one that-

“Fuck, you do.“

I sighed and gave up. I relaxed my asshole and let my dick be dick. Hopeless and pointless.

And she rode me with pleasure. She ripped my ass apart and filled my bowels up with her sperm.

I in return gave her my cum, my cries, my moans and I opened up the most inner parts of my soul for her.

Black hair had touched my face, my nipples, and when it came to lie on my skin it felt like silk. Her eyes, glistening in that night like fire, warming my heart...these long nails touching me so gently, these full, red lips kissing me so softly and lovingly...and she closed her eyes in gut-wrenching delight when I moaned, stimulated by her gentle moves which did not hurt anymore at all...and she hummed from the purest place in her soul when I closed my eyes in bliss...and she stroked me even more gently when I responded to her touch and pressed my hips against her fingers..

Surreal clouds. Beautiful rays of the sun.

Both of us were breathing hard after our orgasm.

Though, when she pulled it out I couldn’t but sink to the floor finally. She put her hand on my flank and caressed my skin.

It reminded me of him.

She was not so bright anymore. My sobs coloured the night. She was only gleaming in this pleasant warm light now.

“Do you think gods don’t love...” she whispered in this chocolate gentle voice.

Her fingers arrived at my face, and she brushed over my cheek, then let them move downwards again until they finally found their rest in my translucently sprinkled pubes.

“They do. They win, they lose. But they are gods. They are not allowed to feel. Love. Or grieve.”

She sounded afflicted, and aggrieved. I turned my head to try to read in her eyes. She looked so sad, so broken. Her eyes so small, her lips not full anymore. A beautiful, broken lady.

Suddenly, she turned her head and her ravishing eyes caught mine and let them go no more.

“Sisters in death,” she whispered, something like old times in her voice - the way it looked, the way it smelled, the way it sounded...

The warming smile returned to her face, slowly.

“Why do you think I became a goddess...” she mused, and puckered her lips.

Agony, pain in my chest and head, blackness and utter despair hit me all of a sudden for a second...and as quickly as that had turned up it was gone again; within one moment it all disappeared and faded, like smoke in the air, and the night lay down on us again.

I was left speechless and my heart was aching terribly. I brought a hand to it and coughed. Old wounds, fresh wounds...my entire body was destroyed and crushed.

She put a hand on my ribs and stroked me again, stroked me back into something like calmness.

“Mine for his”

Her voice was barely more than a shallow echo, coming from an empty vessel, coming from a broken jar.

It brought tears to my eyes, and I could not tell why.

The world had changed again.

Without my knowledge.

How many tragedies did this world keep? How many were still going to happen? I could feel the cracks inside moving apart more...

“But don’t despair,” she said in her sweet, peachy soft voice, “Don’t let life smite you. Do you know which lips are waiting there for you?”

I rubbed my eyes and did not quite want to listen to her anymore. So many impressions, too much happened today, my brain could not take it anymore, even less, process it.

“I’ll give you profound sleep...at least that I can do for you.”

I wanted to say something, as I expected her to leave soon again, but there she was gone already, the light with her...as well as my consciousness.

And my dreams were sweet-scented orchards of peaches and oranges and a sun which I had never seen in such beauty yet.

It was a good feeling.

A better feeling.

I recovered after a while. Slowly, gingerly.

I accepted medicine, I accepted the rice the little one brought me and I accepted the thin thread of help which was offered to me.

As much as that displeased me. But I had my ways to conceal that.

I also started gaining some weight. It was not much, but the little one was pleased. He said he was glad he didn’t have to drag me around the temple anymore.

I ate when he brought me my lousy dinner. It was not like I desired anything else, wanted anything different for dinner. Not at all.

For breakfast, I had managed to convince them that coffee was not an evil spirit who interfered with your libido. So I got my coffee every morning. And a cigarette or two for lunch. Often the little one came to me and complained, how I could just have a smoke for lunch, but I only pressed my lips together and stared at him until he left again, annoyed.

The tender beginnings of summer stroked the air, and he was still on my mind.

The lovely times did not leave me, and even that awful short time had begun to grow less awful, though, not less painful. How he had betrayed me. How he had rejected my body. How he had thrown my soul away. I sighed and turned my head to the side to blow the smoke outside. The rays of the sun gave the grey air some life.

He was still in my soul, still so connected. Was I stupid to mourn after him after what he had done? Was love stupid? Unwise? Naive?

How could something which felt so natural be stupid, or unwise to accept in one’s heart. Something so pure, how could it be stained. Something so intense.

If love was stupid then I could deal with people calling me stupid very well. I was stupid then. But happier than them.

The idiots are the happy ones, they had always been saying. They’re right. If only idiots loved then I enjoyed being an idiot.

I’d smile into everyone’s face who told me I was an idiot. I could cherish something which they could never even bring to life.

I could see his pale face, his gleaming red diamonds and his silky fire in front of my face, still. I could feel how soft his lips felt on mine, how gently they treated mine. I could still listen to the so lovable little sounds he made when he was asleep. I could still feel his knee between my thighs, when he was lost in deep sleep and seeking for safety. For love.

Why could I not give him this safety, this love? What had he been lacking that he had asked for it somewhere else? Why wasn’t mine enough, why was it inferior? Was it because I was a man?

A butterfly sat down on the window sill. Blue and green. I had got to love them. They carried the sun on their little backs. And they knew how precious their baggage was. And when they found someone worthy of it, they sank down to him and gave him a little piece of it. Pure, winged sunshine.

It made my soul smile when I looked closely at his velvet wings. He had carried me on velvet wings too. And the dawning sun shone in his eyes.

I wondered where he was, and, as much as I tried to and forced myself, but I could not kill the desire for him. His body, his beauty, his mind. I craved him so much.

To hold these hips, to feel his nipple between my lips, to stroke him happy. Did he know how much I missed him? Did he know what love he had thrown away? How unbearably much of it? It broke through, I could not handle it alone. It was there to be given to someone, someone special, and it killed me as it was too much for my body to keep it all locked up inside.

The sunshine herald rose again and flew to some tree to sit down there.

Everyday life had set in quickly. Prayers, eating, smoking, coffee, sleep, and work sometime in between. A boring life. A safe life. But I needed this maddening routine to get back to some solid basis. It helped me sort out my thoughts, it helped me exist, cling to something, one after the other.

The same, the same and same again. It helped me greatly.

Until one day I got up and found the sun high in the sky already. I had slept naked; it was too hot already.

We were caught in the middle of a hot summer.

And it was then when I decided to keep the pants in the cupboard and just wear nothing nor anything under the robes which were made of this sickening thick fabric anyway.

One week later I had to take care of a lot of idiots again. Sometimes, it seemed like all the people of the entire world wanted something from the Hôshi-sama, and then there were days when no one did not even want to know the Hôshi-sama.

I loved the latter.

But today was rather of the first sort.

I slowly approached the desk until I felt the wood digging into my belly. After one quick look I could tell that there were not many papers there, but an entire lot. Sighing, I closed my eyes and felt another little stone grinding my soul. I could not do that. How should I? I was supposed to, I was supposed to work properly.

But I DIDN'T, I just fucking DIDN'T. All this petty shit on my table. He wants this, she wants that, they want this-

Footsteps approached me and the desk. I turned around swiftly, part of me annoyed to hell that those monks didn't accept my privacy and the rules there and part of me terribly afraid. Not knowing what had entered my room there, what monster it could be…

I gasped and tried to take one step backwards, but there was that nasty desk, not letting me. Such a horrible sting in my heart, my knees giving in, another qualm seizing me, heat spreading on my cheeks, my body shaking. With great strides he came flying towards me, one of these beautiful and killing smiles on his face. His eyes shining like fresh blood, his lips so…

"Hello" he said in a quiet but happy voice, smiling all the more.

I turned my head to the side, fearing what would come now.

Looking at him hurt me so much. My heart was aching, giving me real physical pain. And I was feeling sick. So sick. I clenched my teeth and waited what he was going to do then. I was so overchallenged by this situation, my head spinning, and I could not hold on to any clear thought anymore. All the reason gone, all feelings gone. As much as he had my adoration he also had my disgust. And these two feelings tore me apart inside; all the more as he was so close now.

His hand on the back of my head and his other round my neck, pulling me closer. All I saw was his rounded lips and his bloody eyes before everything inside me went numb.

He pressed my head against his lips, not irritated at all by my lack of reaction; just self-confidently kissing and licking me. His once luscious tongue stroking my lips, claiming the insides of my mouth, his teeth closing over my lip, playfully pulling on it and again, moving his lips over mine.

Life against death.

I suddenly panicked, the disgust flooding my blood system in such a forceful way that I had to keep back the reflex to gag. I moaned into his mouth, tried to make him understand with sounds that I did not want that but he only took it for lust in his ecstasy.

Gods it felt so wrong, it destroyed me. In which dirty mouths might he have been having his tongue between me watching him leaving and me watching him returning...that evoked such powerful negative feelings inside me.

The hot- and wetness he gave me let me think of a slimy snail, feasting on my mouth. Another tortured gasp escaped me, but he did not notice. His hands now stroking my back, not gently, but just in pure lust. I could not deal with this. How much skin had they touched during that time, how much dirty and soiled skin. He was soiling me now, raping me through my mouth. I could feel my soul breaking into thousands of pieces inside. He did not realize at all how much he made me suffer with this, believing he was making me happy again. I'd have still kissed his toes for returning, but at this moment it was too much for me.

He was destroying me, with his whores, with his lust, with his ignorance.

Just away, just off…I wanted to escape, but still, there was the desk behind me, keeping me from it. I was at the end of my tether, and I knew no other way anymore so I raised my arms, out of this paralysis, and shoved him away from me, panting and sweating. Since I swayed like a ship in a hurricane, so many indefinable feelings keeping me from thinking in a reasonable way I clutched at the desk to keep myself up. My body had decided to rely on the emergency system only and switch off the unnecessary parts. I was speechless, and like nailed to the floor.

He made big eyes, a gross mix of anger and pain playing in his eyes. Humiliation was the result of these two feelings, and as I knew Gojyo, the anger would finally kill the pain for now. Any moment…

"You're pushing me away?" he whispered, rage finally distorting his beautiful features.

I cowered against the desk, still feeling so shaken by this gross attack. It made his rage rise all the more.

"Are you afraid of me? Fuck, Sanzo!!!"

I did not know what to say. My mind had turned blank in fear.

"What the hell's wrong?!" he screamed and came towards me. My eyes were wide open, blind panic paralysing me again. I could not raise one finger.

"Where’s that great love you were talking about, what?!" he yelled into my face; red moved, so beautifully, so quick, a cold wind, silence for a second and the next second I received such an intense swat that I stumbled and fell to the floor.

Some…seconds…some…I..needed some seconds…

White pain spread on my cheek, scorching hot, prickly; I had difficulties processing what was happening, failing, not updating…caught in a timeless nothingness...

As I could finally bring my hand to the sore spot I peeped up at him from the floor. He was breathing harshly, all his muscles tensed, pure testosterone seeping from his pores. Those pheromones once had turned me on…I could follow them through various streets like that, knowing where he was, searching for the source of that…but now they only intimidated me.

Tears streamed down my face, making the aching spot hurt all the more. I could feel the salty water on my lips, on my tortured upper lip, descending to my lower lip, mingling with the blood, then down to my chin and leaving me.

"Haven't you missed me?" he said with a shaky voice.

He was turning red too. But out of rage.

As I gave him no reply he bent down and I instinctively cowered down on the floor to protect my head. But he hauled me up, like a child… The moment he touched my skin I tensed up all the more, but as he tore so violently on my shoulders I went slack again, giving in to the fury. More tears did not necessarily made him realize finally; they only served to let his anger rise to beyond any scale.

He shook me; my hair fell forward and stuck to my wet cheeks. One of them was still burning, I knew I would carry that mark for at least some days. It would turn yellow, green, purple and blue. He had made sure I'd carry his mark long after he’d be gone.

My cock had shrivelled to the size of a peanut. His was hard as steel. I closed my eyes in pure panic again when I felt it pressing against my crotch; I was unsure whether he was aware of this meeting or not. After all, he was still yelling at me and I had turned away from him to try deal with it in some way. His anger shook me to my core. The disgust, feeling like poison in my veins, the love strangling me, the pain benumbing me. If I had died right there I would not even have realized.

"Gods, you beauty…so fucked up, but I know about that anyway. We've always been fucked up when we played," he gushed suddenly.

Yes…when we had played, we had been a nice fucked up couple. So dirty and lusty.

"I've been missing you so much, your scent…and you taste so good, so good still. You've waited for me, priest, haven’t you?"

And he kissed me so gently on my neck that I died again inside. The painful love…

His mood had changed, but totally. He was horny now. I knew him so well. From rage to lust. And I had always made use of my wisdom; always after fights we had awoken in bed together, hugging each other, legs a muddle under the blanket and wet spots on the linen.

Such sweet memories, in such love. I'd have carried him to the moon, the next night to the sun, and the next one to the stars. I'd have fed him with the blue of the sky, brought him the clearest waters of high mountains, and been the softest mattress in cold nights for him. So much I had had to give.

But it had not been enough.

As his lip touched my collar bone I shrieked and tried to get away from him again, painfully reminded of the disgust in me. But he caught my wrist as I just lifted my hand to try get some space between me and him.

He held it in his hand now, steel against my bones.

But he stopped abruptly in his moves and stared at me. There was something like surprise and shock in his eyes. I was totally disturbed now. I didn't know what he was feeling, what he was thinking…only these cold red eyes, staring at me.

"You're kidding me"

I clenched my teeth again and tensed up, ducking and looking up at him again. Still, my arm hung from his hand.

"You're fucking kidding me," he said again, his voice completely empty.

He raised his other hand and I had to force myself to not turn my head away at this. I wanted to see, to watch what he intended to do.

He only grabbed the seam of the sleeve and pushed it back, baring my arm. He stared at it for some moments, then he looked at me again, terror in his eyes. I could feel how his heart was throbbing, how he was panting for air, how he finally shared the same feeling; the feeling of faintness, when everything went black and the brain didn’t work for some seconds.

He finally managed to look down, and he let go of my arm, but only to pull on the black sash round my hips. He didn't need long to open the knot, and he pulled it away. My robe fell apart, floated down to my left and right, and bared my naked body. I couldn’t do a thing against it.

How he undressed the innocent, how he raped them, how he forced them to do what he wanted them to do. I could not stand his gaze, how he stared at my torso. He could see my cock, still more inside than outside, and he could see my knees shaking.

But all of that didn't matter.

The cold air caused disturbing sensations on my skin; I was shivering now and I just raised my hands to cross them in front of my chest when he pulled them away all of a sudden.

Shocked, and frightened again, I looked at him. He wore a serious look now, just his lips telling me that he was feeling incredible pain; shaking too. He gazed at me, making me feel like an object, helpless and defenceless. There was nothing to reach for to cover my body, everything out of reach, and besides, I could neither risk nor bear another half-demonic slap at the attempt of defence.

I felt so humiliated. I did not want him to see me like this. I did not want his whorish eyes to look at me like he had looked at his other whores.

They were turning me into a whore too. I had no power over this, his eyes forced it on me; he made me one by treating me like the many others he had had in the meantime.

It was unbearable. I meant to pass out in embarrassment and humiliation, I even stumbled already when I felt his hand on my ribcage.

It was warm, and shivering. Like a warm breeze of disgust. He traced my ribcage down, putting his finger on every rib which stood out from the white form in front of him. Like a skeleton with skin over it. Dead inside, alive on the outside.

With a shocked gaze he stared at me again, right into my eyes, begging for help there. This now was too much for him too.

But Gojyo had different mechanisms to cope with situations like these.

"So thin..." he said in a feeble voice, looking at my face still. He looked so out of his mind that I felt a painful sting in my heart again, the tortured love raising its head again. I wanted to kiss him, to console him, to take his face into my hands and caress him into comfort again...but I was too out of my mind for that too.

"Just why? You look like the living death"

For some more moments he looked at my face only to encounter empty eyes. A sigh escaped him and I watched tears welling up in his eyes.

Suddenly, his features hardened again and he clenched his teeth. I was witness of another swift change of mood right in front of me.

"Fuck what happened to your body? What the fuck happened to you?! Are you kidding me?! Did I leave you so fucking wasted? Gods, you make me mad!!!"

Inevitably, I felt sorry for being this way. For being so ugly. I wished to be beautiful for the one I loved, to be precious, pretty...attractive...

"Am I not attractive to you anymore?", I whispered in a high voice, tears already starting to flow down my cheeks again.

The first sentence I had said since he had entered. And it felt so wrong.

He snorted, smiled in a wicked way and said "No, you are, still. I'll make it alright again. I've missed this so much, so fucking much...”

Left speechless again, I barely perceived his touch, and the next second I was on the bed already and he between my legs, spreading them.

And the world broke apart. White panic rushed through my veins and I gasped for air, wanting to say something so much and not able to say anything at all.

"Good, all good," he said in that soft voice which had always calmed me, "all good..."

How should everything be good...? How...he was just millimetres away from my ass, and everything should be good? This whore, fucking me, touching me like a lover? Making me dirty like this, using me like this toy...and-

I screamed with pain as he shoved his hard dick in, all in one forceful shove, without any lube or even spittle. Raw, harsh, brutally. My scream turned into a weepy moan, ready to give in again and just let him...but the feeling of disgust did not let me.

What had once been my most precious diamond had been shattered and scattered in dirt. Grains of dirt penetrating me, travelling up my guts to infect my heart. My soul was already infected and rotting away, but this one thing which still kept me alive, this heart, it fought so hard against the pain, for love, still.

"NO!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs and tried to sit up to push him away from me.

I could hear the many hands hitting at my door and many voices, talking, screaming my name...but how should they help me. They had never helped me.

"I like it when you're so angry, such a difficult bitch"

I froze in my attempts to shove him away and swallowed hard at this. Staring at the ceiling with big eyes, watching strands of red crossing my sight once a second I fell into some sort of coma. Up, and down...up...down...quick, forceful jerks, my blood by now serving as the lube. I could feel how much pleasure he drew from this, how his cock was twitching inside me. And it was most awful how he dared to touch my prostate and torture me. Unbelievable forces tore at me while he fucked me there so roughly, moaning into my ear in lust and touching me with his wet, warm hands.

He played with my nipples and let my balls slide from one side to the other in his hand, squeezing them occasionally, then stroking my dick too...and I could not help it. A black coma had fallen down on me, from the ceiling towards my body, and I could do nothing against it. I lay there, barely able to breathe, almost choking since as much as I forced my lungs to work, they refused all the more.

And it hurt so much...

This whore inside me, marking me as a whore too, touching my body, shedding the dirt of all these other women on me and humiliating me all the more by being the only man he had fucked and would ever fuck. It felt like something building up inside. Something I could not define nor control, something happening inside, on its own. And this made me afraid. I was not only a victim to his attack now but also to my subconscious, finally. And it could be a dangerous thing. Once touched, dangerous and devastating.

His gross moans became shorter, and he was fucking me even more roughly now, if that was possible at all. His fingers were buried in the pits of my waist, and he flexed his fingers, burying them in my flesh now.

That additional pain finally woke me from the killing dreams and I tensed up in discomfort. And he only took it for me being ready to come and he pumped hard, ripping my asshole apart and tearing down the remaining walls inside my ruins...

As I felt that he was close to coming I started screaming and pushing at his chest but he just smiled and panted even harder. I was close to hyperventilating in my panic but I HAD to get away from him! That gross sweat, this smile, this searing touch, this destructive thing in my ass... his eyes now looking at me, so wide, so lost in pleasure...I howled with pain and tensed up to an extent that my muscles hurt, ass included.

But this turned him on all the more.

He gave me a lusty moan, once more back into my ass and tensing up too, his body stretching for the sky, his head high up and gurgling pearls of pleasure leaving his mouth; his hands tightly gripping my waist, and his ass cheeks moving rhythmically and dick still pumping...pumping the poison into my guts...

As I wailed with such pain the tears came back and I pushed my head into the pillow, tightly closing my eyes...just until he gave me another moan and I opened them. Only to see hell moving.

This red-haired stallion, his muscles standing out so delicately, his head moving so gracefully, his features so beautiful in his deep ecstasy, and the energy floating in his body, benumbing.

He was so beautiful to watch in his passion into which I could send him still. Red, killing passion. Everything inside me screamed to close my eyes again and escape from this destroying beauty, and everything inside me begged me to stay with this fascinating dashing god.

"Don't..." I stuttered, barely knowing myself what I actually wanted to say.

Dangerous, and beyond the line.

"Please..."

More cut-off moans, mingling with his, barely audible in the raging fire of his lechery. I did not know what was happening to me, which strange hand was guiding me now, but I felt out of my body...separated from it, existing in the air, purely...

WHORE I heard it in my head and my eyes flew open, just to watch him enjoying giving me the last drop of his milk. I opened my mouth wide, breathing harshly again, my entire body screaming with pain. I could not believe what I saw there. I could not feel what was happening with me...

WHORE the voices screamed in my head and I screamed too, feeling an atrocious pain in my head. It was killing me; it was paralysing my spine, my everything, my thoughts, my heart, and the voices kept yelling and screaming WHORE!!! WHORE!!! WHORE!!! WHORE!!!

I screamed in agony and jerked. I could feel him inside me no longer, nor his hands on me anymore. I coughed and gagged, seeing nothing at all anymore in this whirling white, black and gold. I felt so vulnerable and I kept screaming, panic filling my soul again, and the blackness growing heavier, oppressive, crushing...

I heard something cracking, very close to my center of perception, and then the blackness swallowed me entirely.

_________
As I realized that I had returned to consciousness I slowly opened my eyes. There was more pain, on my cheek, and an even more intense and throbbing one coming from my guts and ending somewhere under my tailbone.

I groaned, long. Then I looked around, searching for my...

Gone.

My love gone.

'WHORE!!!' I heard it inside my head again and I gasped, contorting my face in agony. I hated when that happened, when I could feel so clearly that such other powers could hurt my mind. Psychological pain existed in a new version for me now.

He was gone. Nowhere anything of him to be found.

Used, played with, left.

When I remembered my thoughts during the time I had spent alone, that I'd accept him, and welcome him back instantly when he just promised he'd only love me...such illusions...it hurt. The man he had become was not the man I had got to know. When I thought of him it was scenes in which he smiled, where he fooled around with me, where we were joking, or we were stroking and kissing each other so sensually and gently, or roughly, but honestly...

Honestly...when I tried to remember now terrible feelings emerged deep down from the bottom of my soul, travelling upwards to my brain. What had been real? What had been a lie? What of his sentences had been well-prepared lies? How many 'priests' had he had? How many bodies had he found so exciting next to ‘only mine’? How many had he called his?

It made me feel sick again, so I tried to shut these nasty thoughts away for now.

But however I tried to distance myself from these negative stinging mental cuts I failed. Used. Dirty. Whore. They still kept screaming that in my head so that I really would not forget reality now.

I felt used to it to a painful extent. To an unbearable extent. My skin, touched by fingers which had been in the dirtiest holes, lustfully rubbing them, such dirt...

How many nipples had they rubbed, and finally mine too.

WHORE

How much dirty blood had those nails already drawn before me, now injecting it, poisoning me too.

WHORE

How many dirty moans had those ears perceived already when they finally had perceived mine too.

WHORE

How many soiled asses had he penetrated already, now finally having feasted on mine too.

WHORE

How many sluts had these eyes seen, now finally having seen the virgin queen of them.

WHORE

My mind was cruel and merciless, it kept repeating the phrases all on its own, various voices going on and on to me with their screams, none of them ever fading away, all telling me how dirty I was, how wrong, how dirty...

I did not know what to do against them anymore. They were insulting me, calling me names which let me despair, telling me the painful truth of what had happened during those hours.

Used.

Fucked with.

Humiliated, so gruesomely.

He had left me to bathe in the lap of another slut, disrespectfully and inhumanly.

I did not wish to think of the current whore moaning in her pleasure, but the voices gave me an entire concert of slutty moans.

It hurt me so.

My man, once promising me the sky and the blue of the rivers... It paralysed my brain. My heart was deeply wounded too; it gave me painful beats and taking the air from me, filling me up with tension and with the raised blood pressure pumping all the harmful substances my system had produced in this shock and pain to my head and limbs, locking it up in the blood and letting me suffer through it again and again.

I closed my eyes and rubbed them, wetting my fingers. The sighs between my cries let the blanket shake as my pathetic ribcage moved up and down in such haste.

Things were hopeless. What else was there on earth to keep me from death. I had given him my life, I had given him my soul as present, even if it was not pure through and through. My heart belonged to him...and who can live without a heart. I was human too, and I could not.

And though, it hurt, the spot where it was supposed to be. Terribly. I would have to ask one of them whether they had any pain killers.

It felt like dying. So what could pain killers help me when my heart hurt because he had taken it with him. It was crying, as I was.

It was bruised and bleeding, abused, as I was.

It hurt so much. The smell of him still on the sheets. When a whiff of that loveliness hit me I couldn't hold back the tears again. I missed him so much. I could barely understand with my reason what he had been doing that time, what he had done with me. It was only my completely conflicting feelings which were claiming my reason.

Such love.

Such disgust.

And it destroyed me.

I missed him so terribly. The whore which had fucked me and turned me into one too; the lover who had fed me ice-cream a few times; the daddy who had kissed me good night so often, the angel who had taken my soul and kissed it well again.

The bitter tears became tears of grief, tears of pain. How I wished he were back on this bed, telling me stories, smiling, and talking with his arms too as he did. How I wished he would come back through this door with two cups of coffee in his hands with a smile.

He had smiled so often when he had been with me. I could see no falseness in it; they had been honest to the core. Truly happy smiles. Of course Gojyo was just a man like I was too and so he was not free of grief either. When his past happened to torture him, the dirty fingers of his brother on his skin, the dirty things he was forced to do...when it came to his mind again, back out of the darkness of pseudo-oblivion, I sat down next to him and held him in silence.

I could not erase these things because they had happened already; but I could change the present for him. I could help him to deal with the past without harming himself. When he took the knife I could take it from him, or fight for it, end with some cuts myself but have at least him safe. I'd have died for him, had some other power told me to either die myself or let him die. The answer for me had always been clear to me.

And it still was. The love began to supersede the disgust. And I had been afraid of this moment, so very afraid. When the love should claim my mind again and when the reason still suffered from disgust, but it didn't matter anymore. When only the happiness of the heart mattered anymore.

We had spent such happy days. I had to stop it or I'd have spent the entire day in bed and the monks would have worried only more. I had to make an appearance in their hall anyway, or they'd once break through this door to ask me whether everything was alright. At least they had the dignity to not peep through the windows of my room.

I sighed and sat up finally, cold tears running down my neck.

I was naked.

I needed some time to find back to myself again, time to scan the room for anything he might have left me, time to calm down a little from the shock again, time to find a way how to hold back those tears.

I pushed away the blanket, and caught a glimpse of my genitals.

I swallowed and quickly looked away. It had never seemed stranger to me, never seemed uglier to me. The same thing dangled between my legs which he stuck into pussies too.

I just could not answer that question for myself, why he had just chosen me. All the beautiful women in the world he could have, but he had chosen me as his...his lover...his premium whore...?

His precious whore.

What did he find so attractive when he looked at me then? Was it the absence of breasts together with more untypically female features? Was it the shape of my body, the fact that there was a cock between my legs? The fact that he needed no sheath with me, that I could not get pregnant? What was it that turned him so on and made him love me so hard?

Was it my eyes which no other normal human being had on this earth, was it the many scars in these special places no woman probably had? Women were unscarred. They were pure. They could always spread their wings and fly towards the sun to burn the aching spots away and return pure again.

I could not do that. I was a man, I had no wings to carry me to these heights where my sins would get washed away. I had to carry them with me in my soul. The more they got, the more had to grow that bag for them. I could not just rise and ascend to the forgiving seas to return wet and pure, reborn.

I did not get reborn.

Was it that which turned him on, that he could touch every single sin inside me and watch me writhing in pain and seeking comfort as soon as the pain let go of me...

Was it the pain I left in every footstep which he could turn into happiness in an instant when he came towards me and embraced me from behind to kiss me on my cheek?

Was it the 'life' I had lived, the colour of it, the feeling of it...so rough to the touch, so wet, so many colours mixed, so grey to the eye, so colourful that he only could bear it in grey?

Was it those legs, unshaved, was it that genital area, unshaved, which he mostly found neatly shaved together with unnaturally soft legs when he rubbed his legs against women's?

He had liked to play with my pubic hair. He had kissed me there often, he had stroked me there, such sweet games before he showed me his love a little below that area.

What was it that had made him love and fuck me. Had it been the fact that I had been a Sanzo, that title making him all excited in his pants when he said it in his mind? Was it my sexless fingers which one could take for men's and women's? Was it my little nipples which got hard in a so different way from those big female ones? Was it my bass voice which came from my well inside when he pleased me so tenderly?

What had made him love an ugly bastard next to beautiful darlings?

What had been his thoughts when he had changed from me to these pretty girls...

What had he felt down there when he finally had turned his eyes off that deformed vagina to finally look at these precious, well-shaped, pale pink seashells...

Which thoughts had died when he had turned to the beautiful fairies...

Which feelings had had to die that he wished to turn to these gentle enchantresses...

Which love had had to fade that he was ready to wish to give these deities his love...

Which good feelings had had to disappear that he searched for them in the bodies of these frail beings...

Which love had gone that he looked for it in the seashells of these fair water spirits...

I sat there on the bed, eyes open, tears running down my face.

I could not understand...

I could not understand.

Which love had he shaken off that he felt free enough to turn to these...

Which smiles had he shielded off that he wanted these to smile for him...

Which warmth had he let turn cold that he was seeking for it at the sides of these...

Which safety had he locked away that he felt so unsafe again that he called for safety in words which only these understood...

Which love had gone...that he sought for it in other precious bodies...

I wished to die. He had left me cold, empty and hopeless. He had taken the little warmth I had been able to give him with him, the kisses, the touches; he had left nothing behind for me.

I sat there quietly, hands on the sheets, my head up in the air, crying towards the gods in silence.

Which love had died...that he had left me for them...

I closed my eyes and prayed to them to take my life from me.

Not worth the presence...not worth the precious touch...not worth the lovely songs he hummed when he was in that beautiful ecstasy.

Not worth the love.

I cried harder, keeping my eyes closed tightly and feeling the pain killing me. Never in my life I had lived through such extreme pain. I would have changed it for fifty bullets in my body...to just be freed of this searing pain...

I cried out in deepest pain, my voice cutting the silence apart...alone...alone with it...

The voices cried with me, they were in deep mourning for him, the poor spirits. They cried tears of water, tears of blood, tears of dirt...and it came through, through my eyes, and it dropped on the blanket and stained it....

Lost in coldness

...lost in forlornness

lost in lifelessness

The day went on, and left me alone, left me dead.

Clouds. Voices. Death. Night.

In the evening, when the little boy brought me the rice he was so shocked when he saw me that he almost dropped the bowl.

“But, Sir, what’s happened?!” he cried out, fearing I’d die any moment.

I must have looked miserable.

“Was it...I have heard something...that man with the red hair, he is Sha Gojyo, right? They have told me the stories of your journey...isn’t he?”

The name made me cringe.

As he saw that he had destroyed something in me with that question he immediately bowed down and apologized. And the next moment he asked me again, to distract me from my pain.

“Did he visit you, Sir? It was not good, was it? How can I be of help...”

He stood there so helplessly that I felt bad for him.

It had not always been like that. Usually, I gave a shit about people and didn’t bother to read their feelings or even go so far as to read mine concerning them. But I had grown sort of fond of him.

The little one looked at me with such sorry eyes that he basically forced me to open my mouth.

“Not so bad, boy...don’t worry. Nothing new.”

He did seem glad that I had said something at least.

And I -did- believe in what I had answered. Nothing new. I had known before that he wanted me no more. No attraction, no love, no care anymore.

But, then, why had he come at all? Why had he come back to his cast-off love of other times? What had made him come and see me again, though. He knew that I knew he had fucked other people while we had been together. He knew the shame, the humiliation, the guilt. And despite that all, he had come. Maybe he was not aware of his guilt, or the shame too. Only he could tell me.

“Nothing...new...?” he asked finally, totally lost now after having processed my words. Of course he did not understand.

“Come ‘ere, light us some...”

He nodded, took two cigarettes out of the packet, gave me one and lighted it, then lighted his own. He always made sure that there were still enough left, or new ones in stock when I was about to run out of them. No, I did not think that he always kept them in stock cause he knew he’d always get some from me too this way. He was honest down to his bones. And he cared. He just cared.

When I tasted the smoke I forgot about some of that trouble. The broken hearts knew no cure. There was only some relief. But no cure.

The air turned grey. And suddenly nothing was that bad anymore. I felt almost ashamed for changing my thoughts so quickly, for being able to do so. But there was nothing left in my heart anymore. I was outlawed...another outlawed Sanzo.

“Sir...”

“Mmh,” I snorted and looked at him with the cigarette in my mouth again. Why take it away. Why that trouble. Shit it mattered.

“Sir, what was between you an-“

“Shut up,” I said casually.

Enough. It was enough. I couldn’t live like that any longer. And maybe it was not even necessary to live like this any longer.

“I’ll take a walk today.”

“But, Sir, will they allow you to go out...I mean...”

“Gods, what do you think,” I snorted derisively, “I’m the Sanzo, or are they?”

“N-no...they aren’t”

“I’m out. I don’t know when I’ll be back, or whether. Don’t worry.”

“Where will you be going? Shall I come along? Can I help in any way?”

“No, boy.”

“What, but, where-“

I stared into his eyes, hard.

“I’m gonna point the gun at others.”

He swallowed and blinked.

Innocent, pure, and unconsumed. If I thought of him, maybe someday being able to talk the same way I was talking now I felt sick.

People had fucked me, fucked with me. People had abused me, raped me. I would have liked to save him from that. But the most sensitive and vulnerable people got affected, got caught by this cruel fate. Others were just too strong. It was the weak who attracted more pain.

It had to disappear from my appearance. I wanted to wear it no more.

I got up and put on my pants and black top and then left without any word. He called after me, but I was in a hurry. Monks shouted my name in confusion, some even tried to catch me, thought me insane again, but one glare was enough to assure them that I was more than insane and everything they’d even think of would be futile.

“Where’s he gone, the redhead!” I almost yelled at the poor temple guard in front of the complex.

He was shocked, for a moment, but my expression told him that he’d answer rather quickly if he wanted to keep his health in this state for a little longer.

“There... straight...down the street, I watched him..I..I”

“WHAT?!!”

“I watched him enter the café!” he blurted out in distress.

I gripped his collar in that fit of energy and hissed, “When”, and he answered, intimidated by the great great sick-priest, “Just...early...just early this morning”

I let go of him and ran down the stairs. Once, I almost stumbled but I could keep myself up and kept sprinting down to the street. It must have been a weird and funny picture for others. A pale, blond monk in leather pants and top running down the dusty street like the devil himself, flailing about like mad, cause I had never quite learnt how to run like a man. It was embarrassing, I never ran when I could avoid it.

But I could not have cared less this moment.

The café, I could see it. Closer, some more steps, and I could see the red, and it triggered another wave of red rage in me, and the closer I came the more of it got set free.

As he must have heard the pitter-patter of my boots he turned around in just a fraction of a second, both hands clasping the armrest, his hair barely able to follow this quick move.

And he looked so shocked, it pleased me so much, these wide eyes, that mouth half open, that pose...

I watched his lips forming a word...and there I was, the whirlwind under the wooden ceiling of that café porch, and I hit his face so hard that he fell from the chair and took the table cloth with him. Red, coffee and water fell to the floor and I already made myself ready for the next blow; not one second passed after he had touched the floor and I kicked him hard into his guts and balls, hissing and screaming, living out this unbearable pain, and most primarily, rage. He yelled and tried to curl up and bring his hands to his head.

People were jumping from their seats, partially due to curiosity, partially because they were shocked at this sudden and abrupt eruption of violence. I threw my head around and bawled at them to take care of their own fucking business and that I had a score to settle with that halfbreed.

When I looked down at that poor image of a man he was peering up at me between his fingers. The red which seeped through them...the blood I had bled...rage hit me full-on again and my foot collided with his arms. Then I kicked his face, full force, as hard and as brutally as I could, and blood seeped from his nose and torn lips. And more, and more, and again and again, and again, until I fell down on him, totally spent.

Both of us were panting. It felt warm, his flesh. Warm, from the blood, warm from the heat inside that man. Warm. And moist. So comfortable.

Warm.

I closed my eyes and tried to calm down. Under my belly I could feel his ribcage going up and down, fast. Listening to his pants and occasional sighs of pain I kept lying there, not granting him any more space or air than he was having right now. He had hurt me enough to act the cold, haughty asshole again which I had also acted before he had started wooing me.

Every hateful thought I had ever had popped up in my head again and instead of swallowing it down like I had been doing for too long I reached out and dealt him another blow into his ribs. His physical defeat and the pitiful sight under me did not make me feel any mercy at all. Not at this moment. Maybe all he had ever needed to become humane was someone beating the shit out of him. I reached down and gladly got his collar between my fingers. Pulling on it to make him lift his head a little, as much as he could in that position at least, I bent down so that my lips were barely touching his ear. The stench of sweat reached my nostrils but I couldn’t tell whether it was mine or his.

Despite still being terribly out of breath I hissed into his ear with the most aggressive and threatening voice I could produce right now:

”Listen to me now, and listen well, you piece of shit. I’ve been putting up with your pathetic macho behaviour for quite a while now, and I am fucking sick of it, you understand?”

I pulled on the collar and he winced, trying to get a hand on mine but I pushed it away to remind him of who was dominating whom right now. It was in my blood, it had always been and all I had to do was discover it. Half a year ago I had thought my life was just supposed to be like that, that there was someone mentally stronger who was leading me, showing me the land of milk and honey. Someone I could rely on and trust.

Trust.

“Why’d you whore around like that? How many have you had next to me?!” I screamed at him in such fury that he tried to bend his head to escape the screams, ”WHY?!”

While I was waiting for the answer I loosened the grip on his collar to make it easier for him to speak. But nothing came.

“ANSWER ME!!!” I yelled so mercilessly that my voice cracked.

Suddenly, I felt his fingers on my hand, feebly begging me to let go. So I did, and he propped himself up on his forearm then, his head still bent so he wouldn’t need to look into my eyes.

“I...”

He shifted his weight to the other side, threw his head around to get the hair out of his eyes and sought for mine. The satisfaction the look of his swollen and blood-smeared face gave me let a shiver run down my spine. How could I have become so bitter...

His eyes had found what they were looking for and he fixed his gaze on mine and this very second all the bitterness and pain disappeared into the darkness behind me. Deep down in my heart I felt so much for him.

Just when he was about to start anew I hissed at him: ”No lies”.

“Only one,” he whispered, and I could feel the fear and sorrow at the same time in his voice, “only that one.”

“Why,” I replied, patiently, calmly, determined to allow him to explain himself while every kind of emotion dwindled into silent nothingness inside me.

I was no friend of misunderstandings and enemies just because subjectively, things were not what they seemed. In this case, however, things were very well what they seemed, but I wanted to know why. Everyone deserved a chance, as hard as it was to grant them that in such situations. It had taken me a long time to figure that out.

He closed his mouth and looked away for a moment before he exposed himself to my silent anger again. His fingers were still resting on my hand down on the floor but I was not aware of that right now. He cleared his throat, or attempted to do so, then he dropped his gaze and stared at his fingers.

“Half a minute after you had left the bar back then when we played tranny games that woman approached me. She sat down next to me and out of the blue begged me to fuck her”

I pressed my teeth together and closed my eyes while I tried to suppress the urge to beat the living daylights out of him for that crude explanation. He must have realized since he quickly took my hand in his and beseeched me to listen to him. His despair was as real as my anger so I tried to relax and intently stared at him, awaiting the next load of bullshit. After all, I hadn’t come here to leave like I came, knowing nothing and just assuming things.

“She was a halfbreed too. What you saw that night was a blond wig, covering short, red hair, and contact lenses concealing the bloody eyes. She was a bastard like me and she said she had been looking for another one of her blood for years. She didn’t want her blood to mingle with pure human or dirty Youkai one because she was afraid of what would come from that. A disabled kid, a wicked kid, a cursed kid...and she wanted a child so badly, so desperately.

She begged me to give her my semen, nothing more than that. Just some cum to make her pregnant with a bastard child like us...”

He licked his lips and waited for a reaction to his words.

“You had your fucking prick in her ASS,” I hissed between clenched teeth, understanding just half of what he was uttering there but enough to get an image of it all.

He looked up at me, crestfallen. I could feel his fingers closing round mine more firmly like he was trying to keep me from running away. His eyes got blurry and he tilted his head.

“I...wouldn’t have managed to come if I had shoved it into her puss.”

His cheeks turned red and he seemed embarrassed. I was greatly amused at that.

“I love only you. I don’t get hard when I see other men...or women. I’m not the whore you think me to be. I’m bound to you.”

A tear dripped from his face down on my hand.

I couldn’t believe it.

“All this shit because of a hag and her child?!” I screamed at him.

“I wanted to help her...and you didn’t allow me explain myself,” he whispered in a high voice.

“Why didn’t you explain yourself when you came to the temple?!” I yelled at him and slapped his face. All that pain for more pain.

“I didn’t know how to deal with it,” he whispered while he brought a hand up to his cheek, still staring at the floor, “I’m an idiot at times, I know that. I think I know what to say and what to do then. But it gets all worse, the more I try to keep and get you back the worse it gets... I try so hard, I tried back then too and I acted cool and thought...I thought...if I seemed strong...”

His voice trailed off and I heard him sniffing up snot.

Both of us were fucked up in our own ways. Were we not ready for love? Too young? Too inexperienced?

But didn’t everyone start out like that? Didn’t some manage to spend their lives together, though?

“Never be like that again, fucking never be like that again,” I repeated, hissing while holding back the tears myself, “You’re such an asshole then...”

He turned his head more to the side.

By now, we had a crowd around us, watching us and listening to our talk intently. I didn’t care. For me, there was only him and me.

We spent some moments in silence, crying in silence finally, cleansing our souls from the ballast and dirt which had accumulated there during the last month. And when he seemed done he looked up at me, eyes still wet, but clear and devoid of fear and arrogance. Just waiting.

Waiting for me to accept.

Hadn’t it been my fault? Suddenly, I realized how wrong I had been and how guilty I actually was to be deemed in this tragedy. If I had encouraged him to explain himself we’d have spared us all that painful shit. Or if I had just been ready to believe him earlier when he started. If I had just listened.

He must have seen it in my eyes, I was too spent than to hide my emotions from showing in them, since he moved closer and nudged my forehead with his. A daddy consoling his child. It annoyed me, the way it started to feel again.

Just until I remembered his confession. He had admitted that he felt insecure at times and didn’t know what to say. Why couldn’t I admit that too? Why couldn’t there be someone who was stronger at times and who could guide me? Not forever, not always, but just during these moments.

It seemed alright.

Following a sudden impulse I got up and sat down by the table. Gojyo was a little baffled, but he joined me then but not before having put the table cloth where it belonged again. The crowd around us started to dissolve.

He sat there like he was the confidence materialized himself, but I knew that he wasn’t feeling well at all. Signs like the eye circles, his gaunt face and the shivering hands with which he tried to fish a cigarette from the packet spoke of rough times.

“You need not pretend,” I tried to encourage him, “I know you’re nervous.”

I did him the favour and searched for a cigarette myself, turning my eyes off him to grant him his unseen moments of puzzlement and embarrassment.

When he obviously had finally managed to light his own I faced him again, lighting mine. That image felt so familiar to me. Things weren’t quite back at where they had been before, but we were on our way. And after all, they shouldn’t settle to what they had been like before at all. Not entirely.

“Would you have decided to give me a chance, seven months ago, as well if I had shown you that side of mine?” he said with a raucous voice. I must have damaged his voicebox in my fit and it started to show only now. But that was not the time to feel sorry about it. Not yet fully.

I stared at him from the other side of the table, thinking. Gojyo looked like he was expecting his death sentence. To save some of his dignity at least he tried to clear his throat, which made him flinch in pain. He tried so hard.

“Being insecure doesn’t mean you don’t know what you want,” I repeated cryptically.

I jerked as I heard the waiter next to me asking whether we’d like to destroy some more cups of coffee. Somehow, I had the feeling they were only putting up with us because they had noticed the mark on my head, revealing my status. Otherwise, so I guess, the staff would have sent us flying out. I despised their double standards so much.

Gojyo, on the other hand, had never made a big fuss about that. When I was an asshole in his sight he’d also voice that, and there was no being extra considerate of me when we fought and had to work ourselves into the ground with thousands of enemies. I just was what I was. A man with human blood in his veins and a mark on his forehead. Of course, Hakkai and Goku had treated me like that too, but it was different when there was love involved.

“Double espresso with milk,” I said without looking at the waiter and just when he was about to turn around I gripped his apron and sneered, “with a dollop of cream for the 31st of China, Genjyo Sanzo Hôshi-sama.”

The waiter toddled off in embarrassment and I turned to face my personal disciple again. Who had found some of his former self-confidence again and now dared to raise an eyebrow at that scene.

“I hate it when they lick my dick for being a Sanzo,” I huffed, “and stop looking so dumb.”

A suppressed smirk spread on his face but I didn’t want to return to our everyday life yet again so I glared at him until the smirk died away and he nervously averted his eyes.

“I don’t mind you being insecure...”

Not bad. But the real challenge was right in front of me. I called on all the trust I still and again had in him and prayed that he wouldn’t get up and leave again. It was hard to listen to someone who just revealed that he felt insecure as fuck when it was about love.

But it was even harder to admit that myself.

My eyes turned unfocused and I nervously flicked ash from my cigarette, then looked up at him again. I just caught him exhaling the smoke and dressed in that grey cloud I felt safer.

“If you don’t mind me being self-conscious either.”

His look didn’t change under my intent observation, just that his eyes barely moved, restlessly, until he started to talk again.

“I thought you always were in control of everything”

No accusation. Only the encouragement to explain myself a little further.

“I thought so too.”

Defeat.

Utmost defeat, in front of the one who was the most important thing to me in this world. But it seemed like we were finally having a straight talk. And it had become necessary. More than half a year of blundering along in terms of feelings, assumptions and pseudo-facts was enough time wasted.

As severely that event had strained my mental health, in the end I had to be thankful for that halfbreed whore to make us talk up.

I didn’t manage to look him in the eyes. The last years of my life had been based on self-conceit and it wasn’t easy to admit that and even more, accept that.

We spent the next minutes in silence, staring at the tabletop until our drinks were placed on it. He had to deal with the same shit as I so I knew he’d understand. As humiliating and awkward that felt, both of us had to admit that we were children in love, born out of abuse and torment.

We had spent the last months in love, granted, but it had been superficial. Not the love, not our feelings, but our relationship. It had been stagnating, drawing the same old circles over and over again, stuck in front of the gates of our egos.

It made me close my eyes and bring a hand up to my forehead, covering them. Out of fear of deeper truths we had been playing that game, fucking and hurting each other in overwhelming lust.

Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought of the time we had wasted while nourishing our fears and inferiority complexes by the side of each other. Cognition was a sour bastard, turning your world upside down within one second without any chance to get back to where you were before you realized.

While I was tipping on the table with my ring finger I realized that I was not alone.

On the other side of the table was a man, taking a sip from his coffee while blinking back the tears, struck with the same recognition. He put the cup down and looked at me while I was looking up under my hand which I held above my eyes like a shield.

It left me speechless. I should have said something but I couldn’t. The chattering around us was loud but I didn’t perceive any of it anymore. We sat there in a current of laughter, stories, clinking and footsteps, silently.

While I was calmly looking at him suffering from the same emotions I came to a decision.

I took another cigarette and lit it, then took a sip from my coffee too. That moment of painful recognition and introspection had finally passed.

But not without effects.

I relaxed my muscles and slid down a little on my chair to sit comfortably. Just now I felt the exhaustion lying down on me.

“Things are gonna change,” I said, an unwanted sigh escaping me and twisting my words.

His gaze dropped for a second before he looked at me again.

“Not the essential ones. Only the frame.”

“You love me still?” he breathed.

Now it was me looking down at the table. As much as I hated that question, things would have to change and now was as good as any other moment to start with it.

“I never stopped loving you. I fell ill because I did still. It’s not supposed to be like that, but that’s what it is right now.”

I looked up and fixed his eyes. Big red moons, with black dots of fear in the middle of them.

“I hate that question but I want you to pose it as often as you need to feel safe. You understand? If there’s something on your mind you tell me, alright? No more silence. No more assumptions.”

Gojyo understood too well and stirred his coffee.

“Do you enjoy wearing dresses?”

The impact of consequences of my statement just before now hit me like a train at full speed. But I had let myself in for that honesty and directness so I had to deal with it now.

“No. Cause I don’t understand why you like me that way when I’m a man,” I replied in a strained voice. I felt a lump building up inside my throat. I wasn’t used to talking about such matters so overtly. Matters which revealed my soul, my mindset, my spirit.

Gojyo leaned forward to be closer to me.

“Just because you are a man. I don’t like that shit because I’d rather have a woman. I like that shit because it is you wearing it.”

Misconceptions, wrong, tacit assumptions, all because we did not talk.

That revelation opened my eyes. These wrong assumptions had their foul origin in my low self-confidence. Every objective fact got misinterpreted through the glasses of my ever-present self-consciousness and turned into something subjective directly related to me.

“What are you thinking about?” he said, seeing that something was going on inside me which was hidden from him. Just then it occurred to me that he couldn’t read my thoughts and that I had to explain myself again to not cause more misunderstandings.

We just were learning to talk.

“I assumed you liked it because you’d rather like to love a woman,” I replied in a hushed tone.

“I don’t care about women and I don’t care about men. Somehow, I got to love you, but not because your body is male.”

“Why then?”

I needed it so badly.

I needed to just hear it once in my life. Just once...appreciation. Something pure to boost my ego in a healthy way instead of pretending and ending in egoistic self-conceit. I was searching for it like a man in the desert panting for some water, dying for some.

“You want to hear that here in that café?” he said, lifting a brow, asking me again to claim what was mine and to stand up for it.

He certainly didn’t know of how much help he was to my battered mind already by giving me a gentle kick in my ass.

“Yeah.”

Gojyo looked to the side while putting his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers in front of his face.

“I must admit, I love your face,” he mumbled into the air while staring at the floor, “I know I said I didn’t love you because you were a man, but I just love your features. I love how you wear your hair. It shows your neurotic mind,” he burst into a wide smirk but caught himself quickly enough and pursed his lips to talk on, “the way you walk.”

He took a drag from his cigarette, then faced me again, ”Your aura. I know that most people don’t get it, it seems cold and impossible to overcome. But if you look more closely you can feel the softness in it.”

I clenched my teeth since that wasn’t what I wanted to hear about myself. Yet, inarguably, that obviously was part of me.

“I love it when you wake up and look at me with sleepy eyes. There’s no pretence in them then, they are just honest.”

The words stung. All, almost all that I hated myself for was what he loved. It was time to change my mind about myself.

“I love the smell of your skin. And how it feels to my touch. But,” he shifted on his chair and lay his arms on the table to free his face and he looked straight into my eyes, “that’s all outside things. That’s not why I’d die for you. It would be superficial if only those things attracted me to you.”

He reached out and wanted to lay his hand on mine but I instinctively recoiled at the explosion of feelings inside and his fingers touched the wood. Typical, and remains from the old days.

But that didn’t discourage him.

“I love you cause you can melt under my hands. Cause you can let go and cause you can trust. I remember those moments when we suddenly hit on these innermost fields and bared our souls, cause we trusted each other.

I fell in love with you cause I saw you cry. That night at the temple I watched you sitting there and crying in silence. I felt so moved that I had to cry too. That was when I realized that you needed comfort as much as anyone else in this world needs it. That no one can exist alone, detached from others. Not for long, at least.

I fell in love with you cause I saw such adorable strength in these eyes whenever we had to face a defeat. Whenever they shot you or humbled you you clenched your teeth and fought on, you wouldn’t just readily accept that. You’re stubborn, unruly and restive, that’s what I love so. Indomitable. Except when it comes to love.”

I had forgotten why I was listening to him. The cigarette was burning down between my fingers and soon it would burn them.

“I cherish every single smile from you because I know how rare they are, but when you do, I know it is an honest one. I love you being a pragmatist. Either it is or it isn’t. I am more of a compromiser, settling with things also if they are not fully to my liking. I wished I had some of your doggedness to go through with things.”

Everyone had always told me how stupid it was to cling to things and insist on shit when it was obvious that things wouldn’t turn out the way I wanted them to. Everyone had always cursed me for the stubbornness with which I pursued my goals. It didn’t fit in with their beliefs of a bamboo bending in the wind philosophy. He was the first person to tell me that he admired that trait.

The burning part of the cigarette had reached my fingers and I hissed as I felt the heat on my skin. Some days ago I deliberately would have stubbed it out on my skin, now I cursed it for burning me.

“Fuck, you’re so hot-tempered. I’m too, that’s why I love it,” he grinned, “but you never forget your principles. I love you cause the entire world can kiss your ass. I love you cause you couldn’t defend yourself against what happened to you when you were a child but grew up to an independent-minded adult though.”

What he was talking about was heart-touching. He was talking about some most personal things; things which maybe existed in my thoughts as nebulous ideas but not in exact words, and he just voiced them clearly like he had read my mind and decrypted it. It showed me that he didn’t just pretend to know me but that he really did. More than I knew myself.

“I love you cause you act so crudely at times. The rest of the world gets the finger flip from you but only I am allowed to do what it implies. I find that kinda funny.”

My lips involuntarily formed the shape of a suppressed smile until I managed to pull myself together again.

“I love you cause you can be so gentle. You can be the independent asshole for the world but I love you being affectionate when it comes to me. These times don’t ruin your reputation, they add to it; you’re allowed to be gentle with the one you love. I still know that you can kick my ass any time you choose to despite stroking me. You gotta allow yourself to be gentle. It’s alright,” he said, then paused for a moment to let these words reach what they were supposed to reach within me.

I looked at him in silence.

“You know that your eyes always show how you feel? I know you try to conceal it, but I can see through that. I felt troubled when your eyes spoke different things than your words. I didn’t know what to do then. What to trust, your feelings or your reason. What you wanted me to trust and believe in.”

I looked away, being caught off guard, embarrassed that he had always been able to tell how I felt, also when I didn’t want him to know.

A wave of panic surged through me and my cheeks turned hot. We were approaching the point at which I couldn’t stand these personal things anymore. I was out of my mind, the entire situation dissolved in front of me and I could only think about running away suddenly. I could deal with a lot of things; pain, uncertainty, insults, but I couldn’t deal with talking about personal, even worse, my personal themes with someone who mattered to me.

Within half a second I shot up from my chair and was about to do a runner when Gojyo grabbed my hand on the table and held me back. I almost flew backwards on the table; instead, I hit the wood with my ribcage and immediately forgot about my escape plans in the face of the stinging pain in my torso. I sank down on the floor, gasping.

Gojyo appeared above me, peering at me from above the table.

“What was that?” he asked, mildly bewildered by another one of my unreasonably impulsive acts.

“Urgent toilet break,” I panted.

“Didn’t look like that to me,” he repeated a little sour.

I bent my head and leaned back against the base of the table. It felt comfy there. Like in a cave.

“Look,” he said, bending over the table so that we were at eye level, “if you can’t stand something you gotta tell me and not just run like scared rabbits. Okay? It’s okay to be out of strength sometimes. We’ll talk another time, alright? No problem. You just gotta tell me and not wait until it escalates.”

His head had turned red by now from the blood seeping into his head. Yet, he waited for me to affirm his words.

“Okay. It’s too much,” I muttered.

“Fine then,” he said before he disappeared behind the table only to appear under it with our drinks in his hands again. He sat down next to me and I couldn’t resist the urge to lean lightly against his shoulder.

“Did you...make her pregnant?”

Gojyo looked at me, probably trying to find out why I posed that question. Anyway, he gave it up.

“After you left the room I got dressed immediately and followed you. When I left the house I didn’t see you anymore. I looked for you in the side streets but I didn’t find you so I returned to our room where I found the door locked. That’s all.”

“Why do you think I should believe that entire story, actually?”

Gojyo stared at the couple in front of us drinking tea for some moments until he faced me again. We were so close. I just wanted to hear some words I could accept.

My determination discouraged him and he looked down at my thigh. Unfortunately, there was no answer on the black leather either so he helplessly looked up at me again, stressed and lost.

“I don’t know,” he breathed, his voice full of despair.

I bit down on my lower lip and cast my eyes down to look at his pants now where I started tracing patterns to reduce that emotional stress. I felt fidgety.

“I believed you because I saw it in your eyes.”

Some moments of silence until I heard him unpacking another cigarette.

“Well then, lucky me,” he mumbled and handed me a cigarette too. I couldn’t but notice that his hand was shaking when he was offering it to me. He lit his, stowed the lighter away and turned towards me so I put the cigarette between my lips and lit it with his.

“You remember when we did that the first time?”

I did remember too well. It was when I got almost raped by a calabash demon and my life hanging by Gojyo’s chain.

“That was a nice sight,” Gojyo interrupted my thoughts, “I should have taken that gourd thing along. Like...a portable bondage box.”

The smoke accumulated under the table and veiled us in grey. It was unbelievable how quickly Gojyo could change topics and moods. But that was what I needed right now, something light, and he probably knew that.

“You find that funny? It was about to strangle me to death!”

“Yeah...I liked that,” Gojyo mused on, “I wished I had a picture of that.”

“Thanks for caring so much, you sicko.”

Gojyo reached down to adjust his balls while adding more grey clouds to the darkness under the table.

“After all, there’s a reputation to defend.”

Quickly, before he could bat an eye, I reached down and gripped his balls so tightly that he gave a howl of surprise and pain.

“Yeah, my reputation as a Sanzo priest, to be precise.”

Baffled efforts to get my hand off his reproduction center until I put the cigarette between my lips and grabbed his chin and forced him to look at me; his balls in one hand, his face in the other. It was useless to mention that I could see the lust welling up in his eyes again at that sight but I remained serious.

“I’m not your toy anymore. I’m your lover, understand?”

Smoke got into his eyes and he blinked.

“You never were my toy, Sanzo...”

Ash fell down on my hand.

“Also if it seemed to you like that but I never intended to treat you like a toy. Not when we were playing games either.”

I couldn’t help myself but I liked him bruised. The marks of our fight were still in his face. As much as I had attempted to be serious I had to give in finally too so I leaned towards him and licked the blood from the corner of his mouth while still holding his chin firmly. For a short moment I could feel him dithering over giving in or saving some of his pride, probably, until he decided to give in by trying to turn his head to kiss me.

But I didn’t let him.

Instead, I squeezed his balls again and he flinched.

Looking at my smirking face Gojyo seemed to be taken by complete surprise.

“You enjoy that, you secret pervert!” he gasped, concentrating on forming those words while I kept working on his balls.

“As much as you do,” I returned and now kneaded his dick which made him jerk so that the table quaked so violently that the glasses filled with water tipped over and spilt the water on the wood and floor.

Guiltily, I removed my hands from Gojyo’s parts and attended to my cigarette again while he cleared his throat and brought his dick and balls into comfortable position again.

The waiter, scaring the heck out of us by suddenly appearing in front of us, bent down so that he could see us under the table.

“Are you going to pay for the glasses and chinaware you destroyed?”

I stared at him for some moments until I faced Gojyo.

“You got the card?”

Gojyo wrinkled his forehead and said, “Me? Why the heck should I have it? Hakkai’s keeping it. You should know that.”

I addressed the waiter again: “The monks from the temple will pay. They are eager to support Genjyo Sanzo Hôshi-sama in everything he does, because everything he does is sacred. Send them the bill.”

With these words I got up, waited for Gojyo to do the same and together we left the café. As we were strolling along the street he casually informed me that we were to share a room with Goku and Hakkai now because the gods had blocked the account and all they had had left was some bucks for a four-bed room in the cheapest inn of the town.

Taking a deep breath I ran my hand through my hair.

“...and if we stay there longer than one night we will have to ask the monks at the temple for a room...”

The boy. I had to get him out of there. On the other hand, like he had said, I couldn’t save him. Only he could save himself. I’d leave a note and a bullet for him.

“Not the temple, I’m gonna kill you if you drag me there again,” I snapped.

“Well, then we have to leave tomorrow.”

So...those had been my two weeks, in fact, four weeks of holidays. I lit a cigarette at that displeasing outcome and chose to smoke the shit away.

But I couldn’t say the time had been wasted. Nothing could have made us grow together more than what had happened. At this moment, it dawned on me that we would not have reunited if one of us had not been determined to follow through with our love. As hurt as I had been, I knew there was no other way for me in that world than to walk along his. And that his betrayal had turned out as an admittedly idiotic, but selfless act had proved to me that my jealousy was uncalled-for.

He could have had that woman; he could have fucked her with pleasure, and ultimately, I would never be positive that he hadn’t.

But I had dug deeply enough to know now that it was a matter of mindset. The central point was whether I had enough confidence in myself to believe him. And I thought I did have it.

Besides, from the way he was telling me about it together with that look in his eyes I had no reason to not believe him on the basis of these clues either.

Gojyo was directing me towards a neat inn, in fact.

“What, that we can afford? I thought it worse, to be honest.”

Taking the stairs to the entrance Gojyo turned around with his hands in his pockets and laughed, “I fooled you. We bribed the receptionist so we can have a room for two nights instead of one.”

I resisted the urge to facepalm and silently passed him as gracefully as I could. At that moment, I didn’t want to know what they had used as bribe at all.

Probably me.

In the end, it always amounted to the same thing: Oh priest Genjyo Sanzo Hôshi-sama, we are so honoured that you choose to stay with us, please pray for us and our business and the usual shit. The next man who’d just be about to pronounce the Hô of Hôshi I’d shoot between his eyes.

Speaking of which.

“Where’s my Wesson?” I demanded to know while we strode along the red carpet.

“Stored away with your other stuff, like the giant butt plug, enema bags, swordfish-oah!”

Gojyo lagged behind me after that blow into his waist.

“Shut the fuck up, they can hear it!” I added, hissing with a hushed voice.

“Doesn’t matter anyway. I told them.”

Two seconds after he had ended that sentence I froze and clenched my teeth. Gojyo caught up with me meanwhile and came to stand next to me.

“You didn’t,” I bawled, glaring at his stupid smile which faded in a second.

“Aren’t you sick of hiding that, stealing away in secrecy, what for? Are you going to pretend to room with me cause you’ve run out of cigarettes for the rest of this fucked journey, or what?”

“You could have asked me!” I yelled at him.

Gojyo straightened his back, crossed his arms in front of his chest and gave me a serious stare.

“And what would you have replied at that. ‘No, you can’t, how dare you.’ Don’t you think I know you well enough by now? Sometimes I gotta force the good shit down your throat even if you struggle against it at first. Now stop making a scene and say Hi to your pals.”

With that he turned around and went to open the door. He just had presented me with that fait accompli and I was making a scene? Maybe he was right. The bluntness of his speech brought me back down to earth and I accepted his offer, remembering his words at the café and my firm resolution to change my behaviour for him.

If he thought he had done the right thing then I had to trust him. That had nothing to do with pride, but I was just at the beginning of understanding that.

Insecurely, I stumbled to the door where Gojyo was waiting for me. When I wanted to push down the handle he leaned closer and whispered, “Don’t worry so much. Take things as they come.”

But he could easily talk so since it was rather his philosophy of improvisation. I, on the other hand, was the one to plan things. But maybe that was another point why we had fallen in love.

I gathered myself together, then entered the room. Hakkai was sitting by the table, reading papers, and Goku was...eating. When they heard the door they immediately looked up and as they recognized me, both got up from their seats and Goku came running towards me already.

“Sanzo! Sanzo!”

“Fuck I know that my name’s Sanzo,” I muttered into my boots and took some steps into his direction with Gojyo giggling behind me.

Goku locked me in his arms so hard that I felt the pain in my ribcage again and I gasped. Things had never changed. Not these. Hakkai came strolling towards me now too. After he had checked on Gojyo with calm, steady eyes he faced me and I could see that this time, there was no fake smile but a more subtle, honest one. But in an instant, it grew when he opened his mouth to talk.

“So you found back to us. Sorry, we couldn’t leave two weeks ago. You told us to leave behind who would not be there in time, but Gojyo explained to us that you had to take care of matters.”

“Of matters,” I said, lifting a brow.

“Yeah, that’s what I told em,” I heard it behind me and widened my eyes as I felt his hand on my ass.

I expected Hakkai to say something. Make a comment about the new dynamics within the group so I knew where I stood with him, since Goku obviously didn’t care shit about it, and that was fine with me. But we stood there in silence, Hakkai smiling at me, Gojyo exploring my ass cheeks and Goku still gushing over me how he had missed me and what he had been eating during the time I had been away.

It was obvious that he forced me to start with it or bury it forever. That was his way.

I’d beat Gojyo black and blue if that turned out shit.

“We’re...”

My words got stuck. Not least because Gojyo had found his way beyond the waistband of my pants and now was kneading my bare ass cheeks while Goku was rubbing his head against my belly and Hakkai oddly twisting his smile to a smirk.

What a bunch of idiots.

With me in the middle of them. Idiot who follows the idiot or let idiots follow.

“Things changed.” I started off cryptically.

“Apparently,” Hakkai replied while still smiling at me, unimpressed.

His fingers pinched my skin and the next moment he forced one into my ass, making me twitch. His other hand appeared on my chest, stroking my nipple.

I turned red and forgot what I wanted to say. Mortified, I watched Hakkai’s gaze drop to the hand intensely rubbing my chest now.

But I got a grip on myself quickly again. I grabbed Gojyo’s hand, not averting my eyes from Hakkai, and squeezed it as tightly as I could until I heard him gasping for breath behind me.

“He’s mine,” finally it escaped me in a growl.

Hakkai faced me again, curiously smiling at me.

“And I claim absolute interest.”

I let go of his hand and the finger disappeared from my ass and Goku let finally go of me. Both were staring at me in expectance.

“You haven’t got anything better to do than staring at me like dumbass?” I snapped at them and hit Gojyo with my elbow behind me.

“What was that for?!”

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning. 10 am,” I added, then passed the two and lit a cigarette by the window.

The sound of the clicking lighter together with the kid’s pleas to have dinner finally and the ‘Yare yare...’ in the middle of it all assured me that things were back to normal. I didn’t want them to be any different from that. Some things had changed, some still had to change, and on some I would keep an eye so that they’d never change.

Gojyo approached me from behind and lightly kissed my neck.

“Love you...” he breathed into my hair and I snuggled up to his head, our smoke mingling.

“So give me the gun and the robes...” I said after a deep sigh, “we gotta save someone else before we leave...”

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The way of the lost