Heartbreaker

A/N: Hehe. You guys seemed to like the last chapter a lot. I’m really glad. It was fun to write. Do you know, researching body positions is difficult! That whole thing with the head-butting was interesting, since I didn’t have any help. This chapter is a bit different. It’s very introspective, so you get a lot of Sanzo and Gojyo’s reactions to the previous night. And then, we have the Merciful Goddess’s commentary, as well. Sanzo doesn’t like her much. But anyhow. The chapter title was chosen because of the first line of the song: “I don’t want you, but I’d hate to lose you”, which I tried to make the theme of the chapter. It’s really just another way to say that “I’m in denial, but I really want you.”

zell-chan: It’s okay about not realizing with the names. But I agree that it would be icky for Dokugakuji to be all sweet on his little brother (sister). That’s why I made sure to clarify…I’m totally not into incest.

Vampslyr: Yes, Hakkai was angry. But less for it reminding him of the situation with Kannan. It was more like…you ever see Gojyo when he sees a girl being taken advantage of against her will? Now that is a scary mofo. And if he saw said scary mofo shaking and crying because of a man, Hakkai’s more than smart enough to put two and two together. He’s the kind of guy who takes care of his friends, no matter what. Hm. The masturbation issue. The sad fact is that Gojyo is really freaked out, and though he likes the ladies…he’s not having a great time adjusting to being one. I’d think that more than anything else, it hurts his male pride to have boobs. That, and he might not know quite how to handle it. And as to his attraction to men, there’s evidence for it in the manga if you squint. I can’t cite chapter and page at the moment.

gen50: Thanks for saying something about Goku. He really is sweet. Not stupid, but sweet. Don't know why everyone confuses the two.

Inspirational Music: “Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea”, as performed by Ella Fitzgerald.

--

Part IV: Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

A deafening crash echoed throughout the temple, waking six monks, the abbot, and five acolytes. They all rushed out to the entrance gate, which they gaped at. The entire thing had been shattered, and lay in splinters upon the ground. The smell of ozone and the fading electricity of chi were hanging in the air. Walking through the settling dust, crunching over splinters of six-hundred-year-old wood, and aged bronze studs was a Sanzo priest, who was apparently being held captive by a deranged man with a gun. This man spoke calmly to the abbot.

“Please pardon the intrusion, but knocking did no good, and Sanzo-sama has a desperate need to speak with his superiors, don’t you, Sanzo-sama?” The smile on the dark-haired man’s face chilled the abbot’s heart, and he could barely suppress the shiver that threatened to course through him. The Sanzo priest nodded, a bit jerkily. “You should all go back to bed,” the man with the gun said quietly, and the abbot thought it best to follow his instructions. There was something about this man that gave him a very bad feeling.

--

Sanzo tried to remain calm as Hakkai frog-marched him through the corridors of the temple, to the inner sanctum. Now standing in front of the large, iron-bound doors, Sanzo had a sense of dread building in his stomach that he had never experienced before. A hand clamped down on his right arm, turning him around. The dark-haired man’s green eyes were alight with anger. Where he had been cold before, it now burned like the fires of Hell, which caused Sanzo to try backing away. His arm was caught in that vice-like grip, so there was no moving. Speaking through clenched teeth, Hakkai growled, “If you ever…ever hurt her again, Sanzo…I swear on the grave of my sister…there won’t be anything left of you for the vultures to pick over.”

Suddenly, Sanzo had never felt more sober. He knew a threat when he heard one, and he could easily tell when one was hollow. That usual ring of untruth wasn’t there. Hakkai really would kill him. Fear suffused his mind, and his mouth moved on its own. “I never meant to—“ His words were cut off by a sharp pain in his stomach, which caused him to double over. When he looked up at Hakkai, whose fist was still clenched from punching him, he swallowed hard at the look of sadistic pleasure in the man’s eyes, the tiny smile gracing his lips giving him a chill.

“No excuses, Sanzo.” Hakkai used the gun’s barrel—which he placed in the middle of Sanzo’s chest—to push him upright and toward the door. “Now, go in and tell them what you did.” Sanzo’s shoulders tensed. His hands reached for the enormous iron handles, but stopped when Hakkai said, “If you hold anything back, I’ll know.” The priest’s eyes shut tightly, wishing that he could simply refuse, but knowing that this meeting was inevitable. He pushed at the doors, and walked in.

--

Light and sound woke Gojyo. The sun was streaming into the windows, much brighter than it normally was when Hakkai came to wake her. The sound she heard was the door being opened. Blinking and rubbing at her eyes to rid them of the crust from tears and sleep, she watched Goku enter the room, carrying a tray laden with more food than should be. A plate overflowed with roasted potatoes, peppers, and some kind of herbed glaze. There were stacks of toast, a pot of tea, scrambled eggs, and a big plate of bacon and sausage. She laughed a bit. “Morning,” the monkey said, putting the tray on the table so that he could close the door. “I got a little of everything.”

“Looks like it. I don’t even want to see the eyes you gave the cooks to get that…” She muttered this, but she knew the boy had heard. He could make the biggest, most pathetically adorable puppy-dog eyes in the world, and there were few that would not fall down on their knees and offer up any sacrifice to make those watering eyes stop. Gojyo could resist…most of the time. The other day, they had worked on her, but only because she was hormonal. And he started making those very same eyes at her as he approached the bed.

“Budge over,” Goku whined when she didn’t sit up. Rolling her eyes at him, she did as he asked. He sat down carefully, placing the tray between them. “This is actually lunch.” Gojyo nodded slowly, nibbling at the toast in her hand. They’d let her sleep until midday? To be honest, she felt like she had needed it. When the monkey started shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, she stifled a laugh. He looked at her questioningly, but she just waved it off. He could be so…Goku at times.

After she’d consumed a few potatoes, some toast, and a bit of bacon, Gojyo sat back and started sipping at her tea. Just when she was starting to feel better, Goku made a sound like a whine. He had this look on his face…like he was holding something in, barely able to contain himself. Resting the cup in her lap, she said in exasperation, with one eyebrow raised, “Out with it, kid.”

Goku’s face turned a shade of red usually only reserved for tomatoes. “S-sorry. But I was wondering…” He poked at the bacon on the platter, “…what did you and Sanzo fight about last night?” Oh. That. Gojyo studied the color of her tea, trying to think of how to answer the question. The younger man cleared his throat a little, and said, “B-because you were real upset. It was kinda scary. I don’t think I ever saw you cry before…” Closing her eyes, Gojyo sighed. She reminded herself that he was only trying to look out for her, that she shouldn’t snap at him and tell him that it was none of his damned business. Even though she really, really wanted to.

Her own feelings on the matter were very disjointed as it was, so how was she going to explain it to him? She had no clue how to deal with the situation, because it was unclear exactly what she felt about what had gone on between she and Sanzo. A dreadful thought occurred to her. What happened when she saw Sanzo again? Would he remember, or had he blacked out after drinking three fourths of a two-liter of Bourbon by himself? “Goku,” she began, “there are some things…things that happened last night that I don’t want to talk about. Is that okay?”

For a moment, the boy was silent. Then she felt him brush her hair away from her shoulder. “I guess…but if you need to, you can tell me. It doesn’t matter…what it is.” For the first time in a very long time, Gojyo was glad for the monkey’s childlike innocence. It was ironic how the kid she had always been sure was the last person she’d ever go to with her problems was the one person that she could trust implicitly. The one person that would never do anything to hurt her...was a monkey.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Tossing the covers aside, she stood and put her cup on the table before turning back to the bed and bending down, placing a small peck on Goku’s cheek. “I might take you up on that.” Pretending not to see the faint pink color that dusted the young man’s face, Gojyo picked up her bag and went to the bathroom to clean off the film of Bourbon and sweat and change.

--

It was long after dawn when Sanzo was allowed to leave the stone room where he had received severe and repeated tongue-lashings from all three talking heads, and that infernal…hermaphrodite. Their voices still rang in his now very hung-over head. As bad as the reproofs offered by those three had been, things had spiraled out of his control completely when Kanzeon Bosatsu showed up. Once she’d arrived, that damned goddess had seen fit to rip his excuses and explanations into shreds.

So you’re telling me that you didn’t try to jump our dear young lady’s bones like some horny teenaged boy…

She just kept on pushing until he blew up in a fit of long-repressed anger. His eye twitched when he pushed past the outer doors of the temple, trying to block her words from his mind, but more so the things he himself had said. What he’d admitted. In a way, he did feel a little better, having gotten all of that bullshit off of his chest. What did it matter now? He was never going to do that again. Ever. None of it mattered. Not a bit. So what? So he’d said it out loud.

One long, beautifully manicured nail poked the middle of his chest, and he looked down at it, glaring, before he turned that defiant purple gaze to the nail’s owner. “Genjyo Sanzo…high priest of the Northern Lands…I should think that you had more self control.” He rolled his eyes. “Are you trying deny to an omnipotent being that you have in the past, and do still desire, lust after, and altogether want Sha Gojyo?”

A wry smile crossed his face as he remembered that. What a bitch…The doors opened, and Hakkai looked up at him from where he’d been seated on the ground. The dark-haired man’s gaze was passive. It appeared that he had cooled down, somewhat. Sanzo almost walked past him, but stopped, holding out his hand. “My gun,” he demanded, his tone coming out just as sour as he felt. The familiar, cold weight of it pressed into his palm, and he stashed it in the sleeve of his robes. When Hakkai tried to follow him, he looked back over his shoulder. “I am not in the mood for conversation. If you are bent on asking me what went on in there, then you’ll have to wait. For a long, long time.”

Sanzo started walking. He needed sleep. Gods did he need it. He was hung-over, but that was nothing compared to the massive knot on his forehead that had turned several shades of purple, red, and black. It seemed that becoming a woman had not made Gojyo’s head any softer. But of course, he would not be allowed rest until he went to see her. The merciful goddess—he snorted at that title—had been very insistent about that. He was to go and see her…and apologize. The very thought sent a chill of cold dread through his body.

For one thing, it probably wasn’t such a great idea that he even lay eyes on her. He might try to shoot her. A voice in his head, one that sounded oddly like that same annoyingly omnipotent goddess, piped up. Are you sure you don’t want to see her? She makes you crazy…doesn’t she?

Yes, Sha Gojyo had always made Sanzo crazy. Crazy with anger, crazy with annoyance. He’d always hated dealing with the perverted, stupid…tall kappa. So when, in the years since they’d met had it turned into what it was? When had he started wanting to grab a handful of that hair and pull…not to hurt, but to stretch out that strangely elegant neck that his mouth might discover how it tasted? When had he begun yelling at the kappa for sleeping around because he hated himself for being jealous of those women?

His feet carried him more quickly than he would have liked to his destination. He looked up at the second story of the inn, wondering what Gojyo was doing. When Sanzo glanced around, Hakkai was nowhere to be found. Well, so much the better. Now…what about the monkey? The last thing he needed was for the idiot to hear him apologize to that woman. Gods…did he have to?

--

Gojyo sat on the little stool in the bathroom, listening to the water roaring out of the tap into the bathtub. Watching the water come out resembling a little waterfall did wonders for her nerves. She figured that she’d be a while, so a few minutes earlier, Gojyo had sent Goku out, to find Hakkai and make the man go over the last bit of math that they’d done. The kid needed to learn something other than the best way to cook chicken.

Heaving a long sigh, she stood and cut off the water. It would be about waist deep, and she planned to sit in it for close to an hour. After stripping off the shirt and shorts she’d worn the previous night, Gojyo tossed them into the garbage. If she had any matches, she’d burn them. Maybe she wasn’t quite as okay as she thought…But however the situation bothered her, it was difficult to stay angry when the room was filled with steam from the water. A little crack in the door let the cooler air in, but not quickly. Warmth and the water vapor worked into her body, soothing her, lulling her.

And when she slid into the big tub, Gojyo let out a long sigh of relief. Her mind began to wander as she picked up the soap and washcloth. It had been a very long time since thoughts about Genjyo Sanzo had so dominated her mind. Unlike the monk himself—whom she was convinced was in denial of being human at all—Gojyo had long since admitted that she found Sanzo attractive. Admittedly, it was at the time because she’d thought that the man was actually a woman…and who wouldn’t? That hair, those eyes, and that face; Sanzo was a very beautiful man. Even after discovering the monk’s masculinity, there was still a part of Gojyo’s mind that looked at the blonde man appreciatively.

The thought of how he’d reacted to being called ‘sweetheart’ once nearly made Gojyo laugh. While Sanzo could admit that he was human (if pressed hard enough), it was too much to ask for him to even consider being attracted to anyone, let alone a man. So, Gojyo had left it alone. Six years later, look where it left her…breasts, hormones, and still in some measure pissed off at the world because he only thought of her as an annoyance.

But did he, really? Sanzo surely did not seem annoyed at two in the morning when he’d pinned her to the floor and started biting the fuck out of her neck. Oh, now there was a dangerous thought, and one she seriously needed to block out of her head. If she knew Sanzo at all—and she did—he would pretend that nothing happened. He would get a bit bitchier than normal for about half a week, then go back to his old frustrating (and frustrated) self. But never would he say a damned word about what happened.

Gojyo wasn’t sure how she felt about it. Gods…it felt good when he was doing it, though. If it hadn’t been for that one sudden moment of clarity, she was pretty sure that they’d have had an interesting morning. What would it be like…waking up next to him? That gave her a snort. Demanding bastard…he’d probably hog the covers. Yes, he probably would. She scrubbed at her arms, frowning at the bruises on her wrists. At the time, it didn’t seem like he’d been holding her that tightly. That made her wonder.

Alcohol often made the true person come out. A furrow developed between her eyebrows, and the washcloth slipped from her hands, forgotten. If Sanzo had been gripping her so hard that he left bruises…how long had he wanted…no. It wasn’t worth thinking about. But…she stared down at her wrists, the outline of Sanzo’s thumbprints a brownish purple, and very clearly defined next to the imprint of his fingers. “Goddamnit…” Why did this have to happen now? Couldn’t it have happened a year ago, when the truth could just have been beaten out of that stubborn monk?

--

Grumbling to himself, Sanzo looked into the mirror above the bathroom sink. The glass was cracked, and the silvering was wearing off in the corners, leaving black splotches where the room’s reflection should be, but he saw his face perfectly. “Never again,” he said resolutely, staring into his eyes in the mirror. No, there would not be a repeat of last night. Even if his body had wanted…needed to be pressed so tightly against her. Even though his mouth wanted to taste that Bourbon-and-sugar addiction, and his fingers to hold more than just her wrists as he forced her to remain where she had been.

And to think he’d always believed Gojyo had no self-control. But even if she didn’t, he’d forced the situation. He’d held her down, used his weight to his advantage. And then, it was over. One blow to the head ended that little fantasy. It made him wonder…maybe seeing her right now wasn’t such a good idea. He knew he wouldn’t try to shoot her. The memory of they way her lips had tasted made sure of that. But he was dealing with a woman who could summon a wickedly sharp weapon out of thin air. Would she try to hurt him?

“I cannot believe that you have done this, Priest Sanzo.” Fire flared all around the room in the braziers, causing the barest flinch in the monk who stood before the three apparitions, less than penitent. “What were you thinking?” Then, the male deity stopped for a moment. “No, I don’t suppose you were actually thinking, were you? This is why we do not allow priests to indulge in the vices, Sanzo.”

Kanzeon Bosatsu, who had been leaning on a pillar for the past five minutes, snorted. “Ah, but you forget. Our little Sanzo is a vice in himself.” The floating visage frowned for a moment, but the merciful goddess walked over to the priest, running one fingernail over his jaw line. “What woman—or man—could resist this face? It isn’t that much of a surprise that Sha Gojyo gave in for an instant before deciding that it was a bad idea…”

That’s right…she had wanted him. The sounds that came from her, and the way she had arched into his mouth…Gods, this was going to drive him mad. Delay was senseless now. He had to see her. It was the worst thing he could possibly do, but he had to. Though, to say the truth, an apology was the last thing he wanted to give her. So he burst from the bathroom, tore off his robes, and slid into an old pair of jeans. “This is so stupid…”

Come to think of it, his IQ usually seemed a lot lower when he was dealing with Gojyo. Sanzo didn’t bother with shoes. He just stalked down the hall, and opened the door without knocking. The room was empty, silent. Where the hell was she? A voice, muffled, came from the bathroom, “Goku? Is that you? I’m still in the tub, so don’t come in, okay?” The thought of Gojyo in the bathtub tried to take over his mind, and he beat it into submission. Now was not the time to be having idle fantasies…though his body did not seem to mind them one bit. He seated himself in one of the chairs at the table to wait, closing his eyes and trying to find focus. It didn’t help that the smell of soap and the dripping and swishing sounds of water were coming from the crack in the door.

Clear your mind…

Think only of the pure, white light as it grows within…

The old exercise from his days studying with his old master worked, but only for a few minutes. A low groan from behind that door shattered his concentration, and his body moved on its own. He was on his feet, quietly walking to that tiny crack in the door and peeking inside, feeling shame rising in his guts, but not really caring just the same. Through a thick cloud of steam, he saw a large claw-foot tub, and its occupant leaning back against the sloping side. Gojyo’s hair hung over the side of the tub, and her head was reclined, eyes closed. One leg rested on the tub’s upper rim.

One slender hand held a washcloth, running lather over wet flesh. Sanzo tried to keep his breathing even, but when Gojyo’s fingers replaced the cloth, smoothing over skin that not so long ago, he himself had tasted…it became increasingly difficult. A tiny sound escaped her lips, and he found himself mesmerized. Her fingers lingered over the large tendon that ran from her collarbone to just behind her ear, in exactly the way his mouth had done. His eyes widened. Was she thinking of what he had done to her? The washcloth fell into the water with a wet plop, and Sanzo watched in fascination as those pale, slender fingers began to hesitantly explore the rounded contours of perfectly formed breasts. A hiss echoed through the tiled room when gentle caresses found the sensitive flesh of a nipple.

Stifling his breathing by covering his mouth with his hand, Sanzo’s face began to flame bright red. Gojyo’s other hand had disappeared from view, but he had a decent idea of where it had gone, and the way the woman’s back arched told him he was right. Little whimpers and quiet moans made their way to his ears, and the leg that had been propped on the edge of the tub now slid, shifting to hook around the porcelain ledge, muscles contracting, toes curling…

He swallowed hard, his free hand clenching into a fist so tight he knew he was going to bleed, Sanzo’s eyes became fixed on the way Gojyo’s features twisted, contorting into a mask of euphoria. His body was trying to betray him. There was a burning need developing somewhere in the neighborhood of his lower abdomen, and he was getting dizzy. Suddenly, and with a short, quiet cry, the crimson-haired woman’s body jerked, and then became very still for a moment.

Sanzo couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. That sound…it rang in his ears, louder than a shout, to the point of excluding even the harsh pants of his own breathing. He stared in disbelief at the creature that leaned now limply against the tub’s surface. Her very skin seemed to glow, and he couldn’t take his eyes from her face. And still, that echo was all he heard. Her next movement surprised him. Gojyo’s eyes squeezed shut so tightly that Sanzo was certain it must be painful, and she balled a hand into a fist, punching the tiled wall behind the bathtub, growling obscenities as the ceramic squares shattered. Then, she let her arms hang over the edges of the tub, one dripping blood onto the floor, and leaned back, staring unseeingly at the ceiling.

What just happened? Confused, his heart beating wildly in his chest, he backed away from the door silently, and left the room without shutting the outer door. When he got back to his room, he collapsed onto the bed, shaking. I’m going insane…I am, aren’t I? He couldn’t be sure, but he thought that the voice in his head from earlier was cackling. Something told him that he wouldn’t be getting to sleep any time soon. Images floated through his head insistently, torturing him until this mind formed new pictures, accompanied by phantom sensations, and suddenly, a sobbing moan grated from his throat.

She had been right. Damn it, that fucking hermaphroditic bitch…she was right. Then his own words came back to haunt him.

So what if I want her? I don’t need her. I don’t need anything.

He’d admitted aloud that he wanted, but denied needing Gojyo.

I don’t need her. I don’t need anything…

“Fucking crock of shit…” Drawing a deep, shaky breath, he let it out unsteadily, wondering what to do. He’d been lying, he now realized. But the goddess had known that. If he could make himself believe his own lie, it might be helpful, but he didn’t think that was going to happen, what with the new and disturbingly vivid fantasies his mind had constructed.

There was only one thing left to do. When Sanzo had a problem, he did what most men did. He ignored it. And so he would.

--

It was unusually quiet as the Jeep crested the latest of endless sand dunes. Goku looked from Sanzo to Gojyo worriedly. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other. Not for three whole days. Hakkai was acting strangely, too. He kept shooting hard looks at Sanzo. Gojyo was just staring out into nothing. When he’d asked her what was wrong, she just smiled, kind of sad like, and said everything was fine. Goku didn’t think that she meant it.

There was a very hostile kind of aura over the group, and he felt like there was some kind of fight waiting to break out. What happened when it did, and he wasn’t prepared, because he didn’t know what was going on?

He didn’t like it. No, he didn’t like it at all.

--

A/N: Well, there you go. There’s less shit hitting the fan than originally planned, but I wasn’t meaning for Hakkai to actually beat him down or anything (even though I agree with zell-chan…Hakkai pissed off is really hot). I have one very interesting scene planned for the next part. There’ll be dancing, jealousy, and maybe a fistfight (probably not a fistfight, though). I don’t have it that well hashed out yet.