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Never No Answer	By : animegher Category: Gensomaden Saiyuki > General Views: 8697 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gensomaden Saiyuki, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Disclaimer: Saiyuki and the characters used in the
following belong to Kazuya Minekura. Darn clever Japanese imagination!

Double Disclaimer: If you�re under 18, afraid your
mom�s going to peek over your shoulder and shit a solid gold brick, or other
such reasons, this chapter is packed with promised porn! So, don�t say there
was no warning, and if you�re extremely squirmy, just avoid the italics. Otherwise� Sex, where�s my
roofie martini, sex, sex! Beer bong, sex!

Did that offend you? No? Then, read on, friend! Oh, and full
apologies to anyone who thought I was tasteful. J

Sanzo came
shooting out of darkness with a hand on his chest as he sobbed for breath,
throwing out a hand to stop Goku- and finding himself sitting in a bed that he
didn�t remember getting into. He should be dead; hadn�t that damn ape gone
absolutely fucking psycho and slammed a full set of claws through his body? Sanzo
grimaced as he unclenched his hands, realizing that he even had his old robe on
with the familiar and snug sleeveless shirt and arm warmers. He blinked down at
his usual outfit, actually questioning himself as he wondered if everything
from the past few days had been nothing but a vivid dream. Sanzo shook his
head, sure that his dream had been vivid and lasted too damn long to be nothing
but a wisp of fantasy.

He reached
up with what should have been a broken limb courtesy of Goku, covered in scars
from struggling against those other
youkai though he wasn�t very clear on the details� But as Sanzo looked down at
his own hand in surprise, feeling no pain at all; in fact, even the usual
nausea and headaches that immediately followed awakening were absent. It was
damn disturbing that his flesh was smooth as silk as he touched fingers to the
sutra on still on his shoulders to find something solid to hang on. It wasn�t
very rumpled for however long he must have been laying down in this miserable
bed. He couldn�t have had a dream like that in only a few hours. Just what
could have happened, then? Had Goku really killed all those youkai like Sanzo
had so badly wanted to do? Had the youkai even attacked him in the first place?
The pains leftover from the youkai were gone as well, not even a trace of that
beating. There was no way Hakkai could have done this through of a job, never once
had he been able to heal Sanzo so well that he even felt new on the inside. What was going on? Was he finally starting
to go crazy?

His breath
went short, realizing that before Goku had tried to kill him, Sanzo had seen
ultimate proof that didn�t leave a single doubt that what Sanzo had been
dreading and suspecting was the source of the embarrassing pain in his ass. He
hadn�t spoken a word of it, knowing for sure the he had been beaten- or at
least he had been in the dream that seemed too fresh and rea be be fake- but
worse of all, that fucking demon had
painted him while it happened. He was pathetic, so weak that his mind was doing
its best to forget that he had been raped, trying to get him to think that it
was all a figment of his imagination, but it was impossible. Even if he had
been healed of every single bruise, Sanzo knew
very well what had happened. It wouldn�t hurt so bad just to remember,
humiliation burning in his chest at the single thought that Hakkai and Gojyo
had seen it. Goku had broken his demon limiter after seeing that painting.
There was solid proof in the world now that Genjo Sanzo had been reduced to
nothing more than a hole to stick a piece of meat in, like a goddamn woman with
her legs stretched open. He hadn�t been able to stop it, no matter how much he
fought, struggled, screamed, bit, or kneed. He�d been turned into worse than
dirt, not even human, in the most personal of ways...and now those three idiots
knew that he�d been helpless against a few minor youkai.

How was he
supposed to live with this new shame on top of all the others? Or had it really
been a dream? He would have all sorts of wounds, wouldn�t he? He would be dead
by Goku�s hand, wouldn�t he? He wouldn�t feel like melting away right now then,
right? He wasn�t strong, not like Komyou wanted him to be. He didn�t get
emotional like tusuausually, not ever except when Komyou was involved, but he
was hopelessly loosing control of his own life. What the hell had, was, and been happening to him?
Sanzo fell back on the bed, sick. Tired. Dead.
What was he doing now? Sanzo was almost� almost on the verge of crying
in frustration, so deathly sick and tired of having no answers.

Sanzo
wanted his gun and a swift bullet to the head. So simple, so easy to stop the constant
ache and shame. He was nothing now, certainly not a priest after this; even if
he had deviated from the �True Path� before. This was beyond anything in the
scriptures, so completely wrong that
it had gone without saying. He had to kill himself now, before he shamed the
religion Komyou had believed in so much any further. The youkai responsible
were dead, the only three that could call him something other than High Priest
Genjo Sanzo knew that he�d been tied down to bed and violated. Sanzo had to
commit suicide before all honor and pride was lost, had to. How could he live with this absolute disgrace?! It was
worse than when he was younger and had been called Koryuu, a demon-child after
his spiritual powers had awakened, cursed and ill-omened since the day he was born.
Only Komyou had defended him, or believed in him. Even his own parents had
known that he would lead to nothing but embarrassment. Shouldn�t he just
finally carry out their will, no matter how belated it was?

He looked out
the window at near pitch-blackness. The only way he could tell it was a storm
by the harsh sound of the rain pouring down against the window and on the roof.
His very skin shuddered, the body energetic enough to feel the old sort of
terror Sanzo hadn�t felt over rainstorms in a long time, not since he was
young. Like the months after Komyou had died. Lightning flashed outside the
window, calling his whole attention as the sky was illuminated by an unearthly
blue-white. Gray clouds were swirling, blown by a fierce wind that was sweeping
over every roof and loose item in sight. Sanzo had to bite his lip to keep from
jumping off the bed in a panic, older now. His fingernails dug half-moons into
his palms, causing just enough light pain to focus.

He fucking
hated storms. It looked like a tornado was brewing outside by the way his skin
was starting to tremble and shiver over his muscles. Sanzo usually could tell
by the ache in his bones from old injuries if a storm was going to be bad, but
even that sensation was gone now. How many times did Hakkai have to heal him,
if that was the case? Sanzo doubted that the man would ever be able to do this
well of a job in a hundred years, so just who had laid hands on him? Sanzo was starting to get an inkling of a
suspicion to which it might be, and it left a foul taste in his mouth. He had
woken up like this before, sure that he should have been dead but somehow still
living. The powers that be were forcing him to survive even longer than a
cockroach, and Sanzo didn�t like it at all.

He up
up
to turn away from the window, not wanting to see the rain anymore but unable to
escape from the pounding on the roof or the glass rattling in the window as
wind blew hard. He clenched his eyes closed for a moment to ignore the horrible
sound of rain, then swung his legs off the mattress with an ease he hadn�t felt
in months and started walking toward the bathroom door single-mindedly, without
even taking a second glance round at the room. He didn�t want to see if it
matched up with the one in his dream, because then it would be real; nor did he
want it to look to see if it was a different room and admit that a mere fantasy
had disturbed him that much. Sanzo just made a straight line for the bathroom
and slammed the door behind him.

Sanzo
flicked the light on and was already mindlessly walking toward the toilet
before he caught a glimpse of the reflection in the mirror out of the corner of
his eye. He stopped and turned very, very
slowly to face-off with his own image in the mirror. Perfect skin, the familiar
and despised beauty unmarred with any bruises or cuts like it had been before.
Even his eyes looked different, no longer shrunken-in or puffy from lack of
sleep or migraines. He leaned in close and tilted his head up, looking for the
old scar underneath his chin from a youkai getting in a lucky punch powerful
enough to split his skin. It was gone without a trace.

He tore at
the robe with a sudden panic, working at the stubborn knot of his sash so
fiercely that the Maten Scripture fell to the tile floor. Sanzo finally managed
to get the knot undone and he shook his shoulders out from the cumbersome
clothing. Though the usual skin-tight black shirt was back, Sanzo was still
wearing a pair of torn and bloody white pajamas. He blinked at that, knowing he
could get a new pair of jeans at anytime, but then why the hell was his usual
attire in perfect shape? Why would he still be wearing the destroyed pajamas
from his d? ..? ...Unless, it wasn�t a dream. It couldn�t be anymore. Sanzo
didn�t have any other way to explain the bizarre return of his clothes.

Sanzo rolled
down the arm warmers and snapped them off his wrists. He struggled for a moment
with the turtleneck as it stuck around his head before popping off. Finally
down to nothing but his too-large pants, Sanzo could only gape at the reflection
in f of of him.

He looked
like he had been born yesterday. Sanzo stared down in horror at unspoiled, pale
milky skin that didn�t have a single mark on it. Two pale pink nipples and the
unflawed ridges of his ribcage waving down his side had no claw marks, no
bruises, not even the old scars from battles before were left. Sanzo held up
his dominant hand, starting to feel numb when even the callous and small white
scars from handling the Smith and Wesson on his thumb were gone. How could this
have possibly happ, li, like a miracle that made Sanzo sick to his stomach?

That
goddamn Kanzeon Bosatsu. That bitch! Always watching him like he was child that
couldn�t even be trusted to walk a straight line west. Goku had flipped out
again and tried to kill him, and just like last time she had intervened at the
last moment. Sanzo couldn�t understand how a Goddess could ignore how badly he wanted to die, now more than ever. He
couldn�t walk around with this much shame, sure now that it had not been a
dream, and deadly calm with the fury that Kanzeon Bosatsu had taken away all
signs of his suffering.

He hesitantly
felt the center of his own chest with trembling fingers, touching skin that
wasn�t even his own. It was too smooth and perfect; his fingertips sliding down
as though he was made of ice. Sanzo tone one shuddering breath, then another in
an attempt to calm himself down. It didn�t really work. Not now, when he should
have been covered in bruises. Sanzo clenched his eyes closed, bitterly reminded
that the only real injuries he had sustained were caused below the neck. His
pretty face had saved him once again.

Sanzo
hed hed himself in the jaw with his right fist, as hard as possible. His cheek
went numb and tingled something fierce, but it wasn�t enough. It wasn�t enough
to stop the pain that was starting to encircle his heart and pierce into the
organ. He couldn�t live like this, couldn�t function if he looked like some
adolescent virgin ripe for the taking. Never again. S dug dug his fingernails
underneath his eye, into the soft flesh above his bottom lashes; trying to scar
his goddamn pretty face.

His
fingernails weren�t enough to do the job, smooth and round edges doing nothing
more than leaving bright red lines down his face. Kanzeon Bosatsu had even made
his nails hard a smooth, instead of the usual ragged and flexible edges from
too much nicotine and little else. Sanzo tried to press down harder, but it
wasn�t enough to tear his skin. Red lines blossomed down underneath his eye,
but it didn�t counter the indignity and horror that Sanzo couldn�t forget. It
wasn�t excruciating, not painful enough to soothe him, not yet.

He slammed
both palms down on the counter, hunching over the sink as he suddenly found it
incredibly hard to breathe. He wouldn�t lose control, wouldn�t feel anything over something this
pathetic. It didn�t matter what had happened, because it was still just his
body in the end. This time was no different than any other when a youkai somehow managed to get the best of him.
He wasn�t going to break because he�d been beaten within an inch of his life by
a clan of youkai, then by Goku.

Not because
some youkai had stuck a meaningless piece of flesh between his legs.

Repeatedly.

Not
because that one had painted him
while it happened.

Sanzo
shuddered and breath escaped his mouth in a gasping choke as he grabbed at his own
shoulders, trying very hard not to fall completely apart as images hit the back
of his eyes, no matter if they were closed or open. That painting� that goddamn painting� It made his chest
hurt, a simple, meaningless, and worthless emotion manifesting into physical
pain. He didn�t want to remember what had happened now, after he had shot the
youkai responsible. Sanzo simply wanted to fucking forget the face he could
recall perfectly no matter how many times the demons had hit him in the head. Clear
blue eyes like a bird of prey�s in their ferocity and concentration; always
staring at him, stripping Sanzo down past his flesh to his very soul.

He heard
the sound a paint brush echoing in his ears, or was it the rain?

Sharp, energetic strokes as the youkai
leaned in close to the large canvas next to the bed.

Sanzo choked, staring at his
reflection as he was suddenly lost to images that weren�t happening then or
there. He could still even smell the youkai and the faint paint fumes from that
night he had lost all memory of. That night where what he had feared so much
had really happened. They had raped him, not just that one youkai responsible
for that disgusting, goddamn painting, but all the lackeys he had mount up on
Sanzo as well so he could have a live model. Sanzo bit his lip at the suddenly
memory, trying very hard not to fall to the floor and start screaming in
complete abandon.

He had cursed at them, spewing out any kind
of threat he could think of, spitting in their faces and sending bloody murder
out through his eyes, because there wasn�t anything else he could do lashed
down to the bed like cattle stretched out for slaughter.

They were foolish
enough to leave his legs free, but it was already bad enough with his wrists
lashed to opposite bedposts almost in a mockery of a crucifixion. The blue-eyed
youkai had directed his minions to tie him down artistically with silk,
mistaking Sanzo�s pretty face for a sign of delicacy. He had allowed it,
because it created a chance if the need be. No need to be hasty when the youkai
hadn�t really done anything worse than give him the beating of his life.

He had easily broken free when the
first youkai approached the bed while it undid its pants, finally realizing
just what they meant to do with him. He punched the youkai hard in the mouth
and a resounding crack was followed by the broken, shattered bits of the
youkai�s oversized teeth hitting the floor. The blow was hell on his bruised
sides and sent his brain spinning around inside his skull, but Sanzo still
managing to get his legs underneath him, albeit a touch shakily. He would not
be taken advantage. No fucking way.

Sanzo was on his s, ss, sweating,
the floor swimming underneath his eyes. The sound of water dripping out from
the faucet echoed in his ears while everything else churned and refused to
focus. He curled his fingers against the cold tile, desperately trying to hold
onto that little bit of reality instead of slipping further into his mind. He
didn�t want to remember all of a sudden, forgetting how much he hated not
knowing what had happened. He didn�t want
the memory back, panic flaring up in his stomach like a monster finally unleashed.
Sanzo bit his tongue hard to keep from crying out, the sharp tang of blood not
enough to center him. It was reminiscent of the pain he should be in, but Kanzeon Bosatsu had already taken care of that.

Sanzo had managed to stand up with
his arm wrapped around his side and took a step forward with the whole world
spinning and waving around him� Before a different youkai was on him just his
luck to be one of the larger and stupider ones. Sanzo was in no shape to dodge
and couldn�t even manage a decent guard. He got two more broken ribs and a
punch that made his intestines harden up unbearably, but the youkai knew well
enough not to hit Sanzo�s face. It was humiliating to be treated so, but he
couldn�t do much about it when he just trying to keep broken bones from
piercing his lungs. It had taken two youkai to drag him back toward the bed as
he struggled, the mother-fucking �artistic� leader watching impatiently.

Being thrown down on the mattress reawakened
the wounds on his back that Sanzo had momentarily been able to ignore in favor
of worse hurts. His back- his goddamn back had been sliced open like meat in a
butcher shop, and now the youkai were grinding raw flesh into the sheets
underneath him. The stinging, electrified pain was enough to overwhelm him, his
eyesight fading into wavy grey fog�

And wound up with thick horsehair rope
that dug into his skin sharply, by far much thicker and stronger than the last.
That didn�t mean Sanzo didn�t stop struggling in the slightest. He still had
two loose legs which he took all advantage of, kicking out hard when a new
demon put a hand on his bare thigh.

It was a bit more human looking this
time, almost taller than Sanzo and certainly bigger with thick muscle. The
youkai had hair white as snow and his skin was almost as pale as Sanzo�s, the
only color on the demon in his red eyes. It might have been an albino, but
Sanzo didn�t have much more time to think about it when the demon moved between
his legs. Sanzo started to kick out, trying his best to get the youkai in the
side of the head as he tried to fight of the panic that was starting to build
up inexplicably in his throat.

The pale youkai caught Sanzo�s ankle
and punched the side of his knee hard with his other fist. It felt like the
youkai had dropped a rock on his leg. A large and wet crack followed, surely
signaling the joint breaking. It felt like it: explosive smarting that laced
out to the tips of his toes and up to his hip until his stomach tightened.
Sanzo didn�t cry out, not about to give them that tiny little fucking bit of
satisfaction, but the leg flopped down to the bed in complete uselessness,
spasming beyond his control. It still didn�t matter how much he didn�t want it,
tied down naked to bed with no gun, no sutra, only his mediocre human strength
compared with that of a youkai�s.

Sanzo dry-retched on all fours, choking
and coughing but doing little more than making spit hit tloorloor between his
hands spread out flat on the tile. There wasn�t much to come up, not with his
fickle appetite and avoidance of sharing meals. He couldn�t stand the thought
of anyone watching him opening his mouth to eat, now more than ever, and as
this new memory assaulted, Sanzo knew damn well why. He didn�t merely want
people to stop looking at him, he wanted to die and drop dead on the spot
instead of even thinking of Goku, Gojyo, or Hakkai so much as glancing at him.
woulwould he be able to look down on them when they had seen that atrocity
which he had been the model for?

No matter
how much it had hurt, no matter what those youkai had tried to do to break his
spirit, he should have been able to fight back more. Had he been so panicked
that he even forgot about the sutra? Ridiculous!
Genjo Sanzo did not lose his calm like that, not even tied naked to a bed with
impending rape. In retrospect, he couldn�t believe how feeble and incoherent
his struggles had been; like that of a child�s. He should have been able to do
more. He should have been able to fucking something.

�Are you finished yet?� the
black-haired youkai that was watching it all called out, clearly frustrated
with Sanzo�s struggling. It was holding up a wooden palette in its hand with a
brush at the ready in the other, waiting for Sanzo to get in the damned �right�
position, he supposed. Sanzo didn�t know if he could bear it. He could tell
himself it was just his body and all he had to do was live through it. If he
could do that, he could kill them later. He could tell himself that, but the
fact was the bed was surrounded by slavering youkai that were eagerly waiting a
turn or some few already touching themselves in obvious excitement and a
deranged artist. A youkai painter, at
that. It was almost enough to make Sanzo puke, but he wasn�t about to debase
himself any further. He didn�t want this audience of fucking animals to see his
shame, not some dirty youkai that didn�t even deserve the grace of being alive
if they were going to try to take him like animals in heat.

The youkai between Sanzo�s legs
grinned and reached down to free his own member from his pants. Sanzo stared in
profound horror at the demon�s thin penis, reminding Sanzo of a worm as it
twitched and wrinkled skin contracted. The youkai spat in its open palm and
reached down to stroke itself; calling forth an erection that was terrifying
because of the obvious intent. Sanzo thought he might even be able to take such
a small dick, but he shouldn�t even have to consider such a foul act. He was a High Priest, for crying out loud! Panic
threatened to eat away at all senses at the prospect of having something shoved
up his ass. He refused to be fucked in room full of demons eagerly watching,
some already pounding their meat at the mere sight of him about to be
dishonored in the most physical and intimate of ways. Sanzo bit down on the
thought of virginity and his chastity before such an appalling fear could come
into the picture as well. He was Genjo Sanzo, after all. Youkai simply didn�t
tie him down to beds to rape and paint him while it happened.

His arms were trembling so badly
that he couldn�t even hold himself up anymore. Sanzo rolled away from the
little puddle of spittle he�d made on the floor, unable to even stand up as
memory assaulted him. This wasn�t how things were supposed to go. He shouldn�t
have been scared about something so pathetic as his �first time.� The monastery
had held as much carnal interest as a desert, and Sanzo had never given thought
to sex. He�d never even found a woman that was remotely desirable enough to
bed, and usually just ignored the other members of the same sex. In fact, he
ignored anyone. He didn�t want love,
didn�t give a fuck about his virginity, which probably would have stayed with
him the rest of life...Except the youkai had stolen that choice away from him. That
was what made him sick and weak with rage.

Sanzo rolled back onto his shoulders
and threw his legs up around the youkai�s shoulders, locking his ankles
together behind its head. He started squeezing as hard as possible, choking the
youkai as it gurgled and clawed at his calves with sharp nails. He ignored
every nerve hardening up on his legs, the blood that started to leak down his
calves; ignored his back which was threatening to burstn frn from the claw
marks. Sanzo gritted his teeth, concentrating solely on suffocating the life
out of this piece of shit instead of letting the pain overwhelm him.

The youkai suddenly stopped trying
to pry Sanzo�s legs apart, and for a moment he thought he might be succeeding
in killing the bastard. Then, warm hands grasped his hips and yanked Sanzo�s
body down to its groin so hard that the bedposts creaked and blood started to
ooze down his wrists. He had the time to start a curse, and ended up wheezing
out dead air as the youkai put the unfamiliar weight of an erection against Sanzo�s
ass in a moment of blind fumbling- before everything went white.

He�d never known such sheer agony
before.

It was physically impossible for
something as small as him to fit whatever the youkai was trying to shove in. There
was no time to cope with the invasion that wasn�t nearly slow enough for
muscles to adjust even as his whole body clenched up in attempt to expel the
foreign object. He squirmed up on the bed, blood-soaked sheets bunching up
underneath him as he just tried to get away. The youkai grunted, got up on its
knees and clamped two hands down on the top of Sanzo�s thighs to keep his legs
on the demon�s shoulders.

Something tore inside him and there
was blood as the youkai managed to get past the final bit of resistance. He
shook, weak with the absolute, mind-numbing pain as the demon stayed there, a
huge dick shoved up against his bladder and stomach. It felt like all his
organs were being crushed up through his throat, enough that involuntary tears
traced down his face, but he still refused to scream. He had to bite down on his
tongue between both set of teeth, but he wouldn�t lose that little bit of
stubborn pride.

And promptly forgot that promise
when the youkai started to move back and in again, slowly as Sanzo�s stubborn
body kept trying to push the intruder out. Blood wasn�t making a fair
lubricant, but his cries spurred the youkai on despite the simple struggle to
get its penis to fit back inside his very small, mauled, and bleeding anus. The
tempo was picking up, like the youkai was going to hammer in a new spine through
his ass, and Sanzo shook his head and struggled harder. Blood was painting down
his arms now as he ropes cut into his wrists.

�Hold him still. Right there,� the
youkai ordered as it bent down close to the canvas and started working with
fanatical energy. A sharp pang of mortification over that simple order: the
disregard for him, the youkai giving him the same meaning so much as a piece of
paper. It hurt even worse then what was happening to his body. Wounds of any
type would heal eventually, even if it felt like the youkai was trying to slam
a new spine into him, but pride was a thing that Sanzo clung to tenaciously. It
was the only thing that he could believe in.

Gods...

Sanzo was
shuddering so hard on the floor that he didn�t even realize he was invoking the
gods� name when he usually did his best to not give a damn. The humiliation was
unspeakable, words failing to cover how plain dirty he felt. It was worse than
the first few days after Komyou had died, when Sanzo hadn�t be able to move out
of his depression to even wash the blood off. He bit down hard on the urge to
scream, so damn angry that things had
turned out like this. He couldn�t bear the shame. What was his pride worth now?

Sanzo
reached up with a fumbling hand, his fingertips eventually touching the top of
the counter. He pulled himself up off the floor and planted both hands out of
the counter to steady himself. His damn knees tried to give out on him again,
shaking like a newborn animal learning how to walk for the first time. When the
fuck had it become like this? He
couldn�t remember a time before when he had felt so damn weak, never more aware
of how utterly alone he was in this pain. He couldn�t imagine talking to the
others anyways, and what would they know of being held down and raped in front
of a youkai audience with a perverted painter jacking off in the corner behind
that fucking canvas?!

He punched
the top of the counter hard enough once, his knuckles bruising and sending a
numbing tingle up to his elbow, but it wasn�t enough. There wasn�t enough damage
to cover up the horror of what had really happened; only emptiness that seemed
to be taking over his whole body. His punched the hard stone again, repeatedly,
trying to get his fist to finally break and shatter into a thousand fucking
little pieces, just like he was. Sanzo didn�t even realize he had split his
knuckles until there was a splattering of red on the counter that was getting
bigger with each hit.

Sanzo
paused at that, looking up to glare at the reflection in the mirror while his
arm trembled in shock. A thin, blonde, weak, little shit stared right back at
him. Why if he have to be born with this cursed face? If he had been a typical
bald and fat monk, he might have even gotten away with a quick death. Instead,
he survived with the help of a few miracles� survived to feel the whole and complete
indignity of what he had been through. He wondered for a moment if he might
fall to the floor again as his legs shook, hoping with all of his meager,
little heart that he wouldn�t be assaulted by another memory. He could very
well figure out what had happened from that point on.

The mirror
swam in his vision and Sanzo thought for a moment he really might fall despite
his wishes. Then, his eyes hit on the razor resting on the edge of the sink.
Simple little piece of plastic with reasonably sharp blades at the end. It even
looked new. Sanzo reached out for the razor, his hand reasonably steady as he
picked it up and looked back at his shitty, pretty face. A swelling cheek and
red lines underneath one eye weren�t enough to blemish his striking features.

He could
fix that soon enough, holding up the blade to his face.

* * *

Gojyo
didn�t like the way things were turning out at all. Oh, he wasn�t about to
complain that a Goddess had come down and saved Sanzo from sure death and
sealed up Goku�s youkai power again, because he and Hakkai certainly hadn�t
been managing on his own. If he could consider the deity a Goddess anymore
after seeing the impressive endowment between her legs� Kanzeon Bosatsu had
taken the time to heal Sanzo one hundred percent and than some by the untouched
skin and actual color in that usual corpse-white face, even if Sanzo had been
unconscious.

He hadn�t
wanted to even go near Sanzo after
that damn Goddess had told him, humiliated all the way down to his toes that
she had the audacity to tell him to stick to Sanzo hard. He had almost been
ready to sob out loud with gratitude when Hakkai ordered him to take Goku. He�d
thrown the ape roughly in the back of the Jeep once they had gotten outside,
saving the other backseat since Sanzo was still just too weak and recovering to
be settled anywhere else than his other front seat. Funny how they could still
think of Sanzo as being hurt and fragile even though Kanzeon Bosatsu had healed
him to an unnerving degree.

Still,
while Hakkai had loaded Sanzo up into the front seat, Gojyo had turned back
with his lighter out. The place was old and dry, ready to go up in a second
despite the heavy coat of snow on the roof. He lit anything that look like it
might take up a spark in the entry room and ode ode on the porch. Hakkai had
only watched on quietly, no words given as Gojyo climbed into the back of the
jeep. And they had driven off in silence just like that with the mansion starting
to smoke heavily behind. Gojyo hoped it would burn down to the very last ash.

They had
come back into the hotel in silence and Gojyo had grabbed Goku up like a
starving man reaching for food. He was most certainly not going to end up fucking
someone just because some Goddess with a dick
ordered him to. Hakkai seemed to agree, silently picking up Sanzo with a
strength that belied his small form as Jeep transformed back into his more
compact dragon form. So, they returned to the inn in a very uncomfortable
silence as Hakkai politely asked for fresh clothes and some aspirin from the
front desk over Sanzo�s unconscious form in his arms. Gojyo ignored the other
man and took Goku upstairs to the other room they had reserved, escaping into
the bedroom before he could even get stuck in the single bed with Sanzo next
door. No fucking way, not after what Kanzeon Bosatsu had said.

Gojyo even
had enough time to start a cigarette after tucking the ape into bed before
Hakkai had come knocking to interrupt his thoughts. The man silently offered a
bottle of painkillers which Gojyo greedily took and swallowed four without any
water. Hopey, iy, it would help the ache in the back of his neck and all along
his sides from that stupid ape throwing him around like a new toy. Hakkai had
remained silent for a while, which Gojyo was grateful for. He didn�t want to be
alone with his thoughts, but he most certainly did not want to get involved
with Sanzo in anyway. Why had that bitch of mercy planted that idea in his mind?
Gojyo was about to run screaming at the thought of going to bed with Sanzo in
an entirely different way than simply sharing a mattress. He bet Sanzo would
bite.

Hell, he
could lay money on it.

�Gojyo,
could you watch Sanzo while I take a shower? I�ll stay with him tonight after
that,� Hakkai had asked in almost begging way, like a lost puppy in the rain
looking for an owner. Gojyo couldn�t even say a word after that, pretty sure
that it was another act with Hakkai, but understanding that the man probably
did want to get clean after today. He just stood up and walked out the door
without a sound, too preoccupied with a sudden dread as he walked out the door
and into Sanzo�s own. Gojyo even hesitated over closing the door, wondering for
a moment if he really did want to be in an enclosed room with the priest right
now.

Gojyo shook
his head, not about to be scared of an unconscious monk. He closed the door and
found the table in the middle of the room covered with a fair amount of bottles
of hard liquor. Gojyo had raised an eyebrow at that, not so sure if they were
meant for when Sanzo woke up, or if Hakkai was trying to go along with Kanzeon
Bosatsu as well. But, Hakkai couldn�t possibly be agreeing with that bitch! Hakkai
knew better than anyone that Gojyo would rather drive nails through his palms
before mounting Sanzo. That pretty face wasn�t enough, would never be enough, to make up for the sour
attitude underneath. Gojyo, despite contrary belief, did like a little
personality to the countless bed partners he had had over the years.

He took a
seat at the table, glancing over at the motionless blonde head on the pillows.
Why the hell did Kanzeon Bosatsu have to say
something like that, plant a little bit of doubt in his mind to whether it
was a bad idea or not? Gojyo shook his head fiercely at that and opened up one
of the bottle just to stop the thoughts from drifting in that direction. He
liked women, full breasts, big red lips, and fleshy hips. Sanzo had a dick and
a tight set of pale lips that spat out the most incredible curses. He was
skinny as a rail too, like a kid who hadn�t quite hit puberty, but if Gojyo
ever made the mistake of weight making a difference, Sanzo would always prove
different. Gojyo had his own amount of scars from that asshole and would have
beaten the shitty monk into the ground long ago if Hakkai and Goku didn�t get
in the way all the time.

Thunder
rolled and Gojyo looked outside to the see a sky much darker than he had
thought it would be, heavy clouds that were flashing with lightning. The wind
was howling, making Gojyo wonder how he had missed this storm coming in.

The
cigarette burned all the way down to the end and half a bottle of whiskey was
gone before Gojyo finally decided that Hakkai had been given more than enough
time to finish up with the shower. He capped the bottle and walked toward the
door slowly, unable to help a look back at the still figure on the bed. Sanzo
didn�t interest him in the slightest, unless it was to beat the utter crap out
of the snobby little son of a bitch. Gojyo was almost glad that the monk was
laid out in a bed again; quiet: the only way Gojyo could stand the man.

Because, if
Sanzo wasn�t unconscious in a bed right now, he would have been dead ten times
over. Gojyo shook his head and turned the doorknob to go find Hakkai. He didn�t
want to have these sorts of thoughts, not when he was already starting to feel
drunk. He pushed against the door when it stuck for a moment, and then found himself
throwing his body against it when the door refused to even budge. He heard
something on the outside scrape but nothing moved. Gojyo slammed his fist
against the wood in frustration, realizing that he was stuck in this room.

Just when
he thought Hakkai had for once been on his side and knew that he did not want
to follow through with this divine command. Gojyo shook the knob and threw his
weight against it one more time, wondering just what the hell Hakkai had done
to the door. Stubbornly, Gojyo kicked the door and growled. Maybe it hadn�t
been Hakkai or all, but that damn Kanzeon Bosatsu again. He couldn�t be sure of
anything right now. All he knew was that this was putting a severe damper on
his plan to avoid Sanzo like the plague. Now he was stuck back in the room with
the monk.

Gojyo went
over to the window and grimaced at the downpour that was suddenly coming down,
heavier than the last storms. He could even make out pieces of hail that hit
hard against the glass. He could escape out the window, depending on how much
he wanted to tempt fate on the way down the roof to the first floor. The storm
looked fit to kill anyone foolish enough to stumble out there. Gojyo grimaced,
looking over the particularly ominous lump in the bed.

Welt
wt
wasn�t like Sanzo was going to jump out of the bed anytime soon. As long as he
stayed a good distance away from that corner of the room, he really didn�t have
anything to worry about! Gojyo could certainly control himself, and he was not, simply refused to even think of the
idea of actually wanting Sanzo. Gojyo would lay money on the monk being hard as
rocks inside and out, stomping back to the table and snatching up the bottle he
hadn�t finished yet before falling into the seat he had left only seconds ago.

If that Goddess
thought she was going to force Gojyo into fucking High Priest Genjo Sanzo, that
bitch had another thing coming. Gojyo wasn�t about to bed anyone against his
will or theirs; and he was more than certain that Sanzo didn�t want any man
coming around him with such ideas. He had already shot other such foolish
villagers or large idiots they passed along the way who made the mistake of
thinking or treating Sanzo like a woman. Just because he was thin didn�t mean
he wasn�t ready to tear someone�s head off at the drop of a coin.

Gojyo
sourly finished the bottle in silence, concentrating on other things than
unconscious monks with very unique and rare blonde hair. Like women he had had
sex with before, his conquests dotted with a few pretty boys that could do
wonderful things with his mouth when the other gender free to make love was in
scarcantiantity. Sanzo might have a face that could top them all, but the
downward slant of his eyes and tight line of lips made lovely features
contemptuous. And his mouth! Gojyo
couldn�t believe someone who cursed that much could actually have made it to
High Priest. Had the committee that appointed Sanzo been completely deaf?

He moved
onto a bottle of scotch, still not smashed enough for his thoughts to turn
right back around onto Sanzo right now. Damn that Goddess for saying such
things! How was he supposed to even feel comfortable around that little prick
when he knew that up in Heaven, Kanzeon Bosatsu was watching eagerly in
anticipation? Gojyo grimaced and took a new swig from the bottle, not bothering
with glasses even if there had been some provided. Why did Sanzo have to be
such a disagreeable bastard? If only there had been one ounce of kindness in
the bastard, Gojyo might actually have been considering following through with
Kanzeon Bosatsu�s none-too-vague order.

Maybe
getting drunk was a bad idea if he was actually even thinking of considering it being not so repulsive.
Gojyo was about to throw the bottle away when Sanzo had shot out of the bed
like he�d been physically ripped out of unconsciousness, panting hard and
staring forward at nothing. Gojyo almost dropped the scotch in surprise but
managed to hold on, pretty damn sure that the monk didn�t even know he was in
the room right now. Gojyo was about to say something to the blonde hen
lightning struck outside the window, calling all of Sanzo�sentiention.

Then, the
monk was out off the bnd hnd headed toward the bathroom before Gojyo could even
wave to the man to let him know that he was in the room. He was sure that Sanzo
would just love hearing that they
were locked in the room together. Gojyo would be damned before telling the
reason why though. The door slammed shut and Gojyo was more than happy to stay
silent. He wasn�t about to draw attention to himself in a shitty situation like
this.

There was silence
while he got halfway down in the bottle of scotch and through two more
cigarettes; fucked up enough to start wondering back to that picture without
cringing away mentally. It had just been too harsh, too ; an; and Sanzo had
gone through it long enough for such painstaking detail come up. At least he
knew that he had burned it before anyone else could see it, at least anyone
living that would go around bragging about Genjo Sanzo being tied down to a
bed. It made Gojyo have to pause in the middle of drinking, disturbingly
furious and having no outlet for it. He wanted to hit something, mostly the
youkai that Goku had already torn into tiny little pieces.

Sanzo was
sure taking his own sweet time in the crapper. Gojyo leaned back to look at the
closed door in curiosity, glancing back at the bed just to make sure that Sanzo
really had gotten up. He wondered if he should check to see if the skinny
asshole had fallen into the toilet or was drowning in the bathtub, with Sanzo�s
luck of late. Then again, Sanzo had probably gone in there for a reason, and
Gojyo was more than willing to give the man his space. He�d already been
through quite enough, so a little more craziness than usual should be expected.
It meant more precious time to himself before Sanzo opened up the door and
started bitching at him for whatever reason the blonde had thought up this
time.

There was
the sharp sound of flesh hitting flesh and Gojyo started in his chair, staring
down at his own hands in curiosity for a moment,tty tty sure that he hadn�t
just hit anything. There was nothing else after that, so he dismissed it to the
storm and went back to nursing the scotch as he wrote it off as the storm
outside. He picked up his half-empty pack of cigarettes on the table and
considered another stick while the wind started to blow even harder outside.
Then, Gojyo heard something heavy hit the floor in the bathroom and knew damn
well it wasn�t the fucking weather anymore.

Sanzo.

Gojyo stood
up so fast from the table he nearly upset the chair, but suddenly found himself
more preoccupied with concentrating on staying upright rather than trying to
keep furniture from falling over. He was pretty sure that there were no windows
in the bathroom, suddenly cursing himself for not looking just in case they
were attacked, for getting intoxicated enough to make the short distance to the
other room a struggle. Kanzeon Bosatsu was right: that he was failing his duty
to protect Sanzo. It there were youkai going after the High Priest Genjo Sanzo in
the room right now, Gojyo would never forgive himself.

He expected
the door to be locked, but found that it swung open easily underneath his
shaking hand. Sanzo was half-naked, stripped down to the ragged and
bloodstained pajamas, holding a plastic razor his own face, obviously ready to
do a lot fucking worse than a shave. Gojyo could have killed Mei Li for leaving
toiletries for them. Sanzo�s eyes flicked over to him once, new swelling on the
monk�s cheek and red lines blossoming into life starting under his washed-out
eyes. It looked suspiciously like nails. In the bright light of the bathroom,
Gojyo
. He couldn�t
keep walking on eggshells around Sanzo. He had enough of tiptoeing around
Sanzo�s shattered pride when it had already been dragged through the mud. They
had all seen what man had been subjected too in a little too much realism for
Gojyo to stomach easily. Gojyo didn�t care of the consequences anymore, because
there was honest to god hurt inside the
priest right now. How could he not be? Sanzo was a prick, through and through,
but he wasn�t inhuman. It had been nothing short of complete bestiality, making
it hard for even him to deny that they were demons. No creature with a shred of
conscious could have done what had been done to Sanzo.

Gojyo
didn�t feel as ridiculous as he thought he would when he gently shushed Sanzo
and rocked slowly from side to side like he was soothing down a small child. It
didn�t even feel weird to be comforting Sanzo, now that he got his mind wrapped
around the fact the usual emotionless asshole was crying. In fact, Gojyo felt
tears stinging at the corner of his eyes as well just because of the sound of
Sanzo choking on his own sobs. It was just like how Dokugakuji used to do for
him after Mother had been murde-died.
Gojyo put his chin down on the top of Sanzo�s silken hair as if he could just
cover and surround the man from ever being hurt again. There was no violent
reaction, no sudden curse and shake-off like Gojyo had expected.

�You saw
me- shoot that� that one, right?�
Sanzo managed to wheeze out between the tears. �You burned it, right?�

Genjo Sanzo
was questioning himself. Tonight seemed to be the first time for everything,
more flying at Gojyo�s face than he could keep up with. Was it really just
because they were locked in the room together, or had Sanzo lost all tolerance
for alcohol along with all the scars and bruises? The thin man was just shaking
in his arms, breaking apart like fine china hitting the floor hard, all the
confidence and arrogance gone without a trace in the dusting explosion. Gojyo
couldn�t blame him after everything he must have gone through, couldn�t really
figure out what kind of comfort he was supposed to give that wouldn�t result in
Sanzo shooting him later. What would Hakkai say?

�It�s all
over,� Gojyo whispered above the quivering, blonde head. He felt a little
daring now, sure that Sanzo was too preoccupied with crying to mind as he
pressed his lips into hair underneath his chin. Hundreds of fine strands felt
like silk underneath his mouth, better than any woman�s that Gojyo had bedded
before. Sanzo certainly was something different as the crying stopped, turning
to a slow freeze as the man became aware of what he was doing. There was stiffness
as Sanzo resumed control of himself; at least enough to finally speak back.

�No, it�s not. I still fucking see his eyes,�
Sanzo argued, shaking his head against Gojyo�s chest, but not pulling away. At
least, not yet. Gojyo was sure that it would happen as as as Sanzo regained
his senses, but for now the monk simply buried his face against the crook of
Gojyo�s neck in a pitiful attempt to hide his eyes from something that wasn�t
even in the room Imagine the look on people�s faces if they learned a dead
youkai were scaring the shit of High Priest Genjo Sanzo.

Gojyo clamped
his teeth closed helplessly, completely out of his depth. Sanzo wasn�t like any
other person that he could simply hold close and comfort. Sanzo was much, much
more complex than that, and not about to find peace with another person. He
should just let Sanzo lick his wounds in solitude, but Gojyo couldn�t very well
leave Sanzo alone with these memories. Maybe they had been locked in the room
for a reason, since Gojyo couldn�t very well imagine Sanzo confessing this
Hakkai or Goku. Damn Kanzeon Bosatsu for not intervening sooner, before Sanzo
had even wound up in this shitty situation.

�Look at
me,� Gojyo gently ordered in the pitch blackness of the room, sure that Sanzo
couldn�t be able to see nearly as well as he could in the dark with his poor
human eyesight, but knowing that the priest needed to look at someone real and living
right
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