When I Tell Him
I always knew Sanzo would kill Goku. It was a fact; one of those certainties of life. Like, the sun will rise and fall. Summer will always become autumn. Food that you leave outside the fridge will spoil. There was no question. Never a doubt in my mind. Sanzo would kill Goku, and that would be the end of it.
He's stressed. Thinking he's so cool, on top of it all, Mr. Smooth, Mr. You can't get me. He's like a book, without pages, you just open it and there he is. Thinks I can't see him, but it's so obvious. I just look at him sitting in front of me, and it's like his face is scrolling text. Adjective after adjective of emotion and contemplation.
His right index finger twitches and I know he's wishing he had a smoke, seconds later he shifts a bit casting his eyes to the side with a scowl. I always imagine Sanzo smiling when he does this scowl. I've never seen him smile. Not once. I know he can, and the situation that drives Sanzo to a smile, is something I don't plan on missing. It will be like a great eclipse, or a comet that only passes by every three hundred years. I've never seen it, don't know what it will look like, but I know it will be great. When I imagine it, it's crooked, too much teeth on the right side, and too much lip on the other. It will be wrong, crude, raw. It will be everything that is Sanzo and yet all wrong because he has no practice. The only thing that will save him will be his eyes, for they will soften and glow when he smiles. For unlike his smile, which will be awkward, fumbling over every tooth at every crease, his eyes require no talent. Like two slits in velvet over glass they'll shine with what's inside to whatever makes him smile; and that's when time will stop.
Hopefully, I'll have a camera at the exact second time defies law and I'll be able to incriminate the son of a bitch later.
"What the hell are you staring at." he snips glaring at me and my vacant expression. The one that's been staring at him for what I can only assume is the last five minutes contemplating how at one point in his life he'll smile and most likely die directly afterwards.
"I got laid last night." I deadpan, changing the subject with a shift of my own.
He grunts, and his index finger convulses again. I know he really wants a smoke. "How lucky for you." He mutters sarcastically before watching me gently begin to finger the small china cup he's served me tea in. "That cup is expensive." He says, watching my finger slide about the rim like I am carrying his first-born child. "Don't break it." he continues when I say nothing.
"The tea's good." I smile glancing up from the porcelain trophy. "I didn't know you were so gifted."
"Your taste buds dissolved long ago." He mutters raising his own cup and taking a sip. "What color was her hair?"
"Red." I say, my lips itching to tell him it was a brunette. I know he has a thing for them, and though he'll play it cool he wants to hear about my night. My scandalous love affair, my orgy, my prize. He wants to hear, him who is on the outside, chaste, obstinate, holy. He is like a moth drawn to flame, watching me party with the devil, grinning back with a beckoning finger but he won't drop his robes. He won't betray his master that far. "Curly red." I state, and someday when Goku is older I'll tease him about Sanzo's thing for brunettes. It's not too ludicrous to contemplate the monk fucking the brat when he does basically everything else for him.
"hmp." He grunts. "Curly." He shakes his head, no doubt trying to rid himself of a hundred and one pictures, and possibilities that just flood his brain.
I'll be nice today. "She did this thing with her legs." I say bringing my hands to either side of my neck and grasping air like I am grasping her thighs. It's inappropriate, out of line on so many levels. Obscene even! But he's watching me with eyes of a cat, trying to seem bored. "Could bend them…" I trail extending my right hand back over my shoulder. "In the most….amazing directions." I chuckle watching him quickly shift again and glance out the window as Goku runs by, but he doesn't silence me. The priest wants to hear this bad, he'll risk the brat catching a word or two of something he can't yet possibly understand. "She almost choked me a few times before she brought them back behind her own neck." I say laying my hands down in the air like it was too much. Too much for me to be saying this out loud. Too scandalous, too uncomfortable I shouldn't be sharing such sex secrets, I have guilt! Guilt and self loathe for talking about this girl afterward! Telling a priest what unholy-so-so unholy acts we did, and how much fun we had, and how loud we were. "Christ Sanzo." I grin; bringing one of my hands up to massage a temple like this is hard for me. In fact, I was never sure I wanted to have sex with her in the beginning. She trapped me! It was a pity lay! Told me a sad story! Bought me a few drinks! How could I say no…what should I have done. Now I am scarred, scarred with these details. Her legs, her breasts, her hair, her skin, god her breasts. I am scared, I am scarred.
"Where did you meet her?" Sanzo asks right after clearing his throat. He has yet to comment on my little act, and I wonder if he can see though it or not. He looks rather preoccupied with his mental musings any way.
"Ah, don't remember." I shrug loosing my hands back onto his dinning table. This is a tease. A terrible, torturous tease for him. The movie can't be completed, the fantasy shattered because without the beginning the theatre can't begin! "Oh I think…" I trail, watching him lift his chin to me a bit. It's his pride acting up, with invisible hands trying to push him away. Trying to get him to pull his eyes off me as he tries to read me faster than I can think. So perhaps he'll figure out where I met her before I do myself. "I think it was…." Oh he's so close, his jaw is so tight, his mouth a thin line. He's pissed, furious with me. That I could be so stupid, so foolish, that I could sit here and not know where I met my greatest lay. He's a monster, an ogre with patients just enough not to kill me because I hold such a secret. I've got him-oh I've got him so good. "At the…." I continue. "OH! At the-"
"GOKU!" HE yells suddenly bolting from his chair when the brat outside topples off the fence bringing part of it down as well. "GET OFF THAT NOW!" He screams taking that one stomp to the window and slamming a hand down onto the ledge like it were the boys head itself. Goku goes along, ducking where he's fallen like Sanzo's vocal aggression will lash into him.
"Sanzzoooo SaanZOOO!" Goku starts up, and I drop my head a bit and sip my tea. So much for that. All that foreplay for nothing, I lost the priest in a second. Slippery he is. Slippery like a fish, and sly like a fox.
"You damned little monkey." Sanzo scowls under his breath watching the boy pull himself up and out of the soaking rose bed. "I told you not to climb on that." Sanzo states with venom, like the boy, spawn of Satan made it his first priority after being directed away from the newly established, and ever so white fence for the roses to climb.
"sanZO!" Goku yells coming right for us like a train; his arrival will be a head on collision. Greasy, now mud caked hands reach up and smear onto the windowsill. "I fell! I Fell in the Flowers!" Goku yells up concerned.
"Call the press." I chuckle downing the rest of my tea, and he turns to me for a moment. Alert golden eyes flashing before turning back to Sanzo for while my suggestion is credible to him Sanzo apparently has the final say; and Goku waits outside shifting about in muddy discomfort as Sanzo glares down.
"Are you covered in it?" Sanzo asks slowly, like each word is a great strain on him, stretching his patience like you'd stretch dough. Small holes are bearing amongst the thinner strands, and soon part of it will snap and slap to you with the same wet slapping sound Goku's palms make as they take a dying reach towards Sanzo and fail as he yanks his hand back too fast for me to see.
"It's on me." Goku answers nodding obediently.
"Are you covered in it?" Sanzo asked, posing more of a questioning tone to his words and Goku continues nodding.
"It's on me Sanzo." Goku repeats, and Sanzo doesn't have the idiocy in him to ask again. "Sanzoo Sanzzzooo." Goku instantly starts whining because Sanzo's been silent. "It's cold, I don't like it."
"Go sit in the sun." Sanzo snaps and I can't hide my laugh as I mentally envision Goku as a small brown stature baked into a tranquil state.
"I dooon't wanna Sanzo-Sanzo." Goku says reaching inward with grubby little fingers that look almost disturbing now. Like maggots wiggling up from the earth each little tip is white and slender but the palm is disfigured with clumps of earth.
"Don't even think about touching me, your disgusting. Get that off you."
"I caaan't!" Goku yells suddenly becoming dreadfully alarmed.
Armageddon has arrived, and it's come to us in 40-pound bags of acidic free soil.
"SanzO!" Goku continues smearing at his face to rid himself of the mud and managing to only smear globs from hand to face, and then back with the second face to hand. The mud has latched on stubbornly and it's horrifying the boy with it's obvious desire to Never EVER rid itself from his body.
Sanzo mutters some sort of curse before stomping past me, and I glance at him with a cocked eyebrow. This should prove to be entertaining. "So, you're covered in the mud?" I chuckle turning back to the wide golden eyes peering over the window ledge watching Sanzo with uncertainty.
"It's on me Goyjo." he says distressed.
"It looks cold." I chuckle.
"It iS!" He quickly agrees nodding, and his voice holds a bit of relief I seem to understand some of the situation.
Eyes and hands quickly vanish as Sanzo appears outside as well, and I am giving the opportunity to take Sanzo's tea (which has much more sugar than mine. Much more sugar than any Monk should ever have in his tea) Prop my feet up onto his chair and watch with a wide grin as Sanzo the stoic monk ushers the boy over to the fence as though he's going to show him why it fell-but I know better. To show Goku how he broke the fence would be like teaching a chimp to tap dance.
A. A sure failure.
B. Irrelevant, for who really wants to see it.
C. It would take about five years off Sanzo's life, and the priest isn't that stupid.
"HAHAHAH!" I start laughing, drowning a bit of my thigh in the sweet tea that was just supposed to slip past my lips. The hose water is indisputably cold, and Goku starts running faster than I've ever seen him go when Sanzo quickly exchanges a piece of broken fence for the culprit. Goku's flailing his arms a bit, as though unsure how to protect all of himself from the wide spray of water. It's hysterical, and Sanzo only adds to the picture by standing characteristically still and straight faced before dropping the thing to the ground as Goku starts bolting for the house.
I drop my feet to the floor, and turn to the door in time to see Goku come hobbling in soaking wet with grit teeth gasping each breath as though he's just immerged from no mans land. His eyes dart about before sprinting to the bedroom, continuing his whine which I'd attempt to explain if I thought it could be spelled, or sounded out with our alphabet. Like so many things that are indisputably Goku and have traveled back with him from the mountain latched on like diseases. His whine is his own starting with what I presume is an N sound followed by some A's before becoming a scream which is typically spelled with the A followed by H's.
Example of Goku's scream: NaaaAHHH!
And though it sounds simple enough it's executed in such a pitch, with just the right pinch of nasal to the brat's voice that I am stranded at a loss for words, and can only grin as Sanzo enters and shuts the door behind him. Still. Calm. He's such a stoic monk.
"GOku." He barks. "Get out here." He orders with harsh words, though none unfeeling.
"Naaa Sanzoo! SANzzO! I am WETT! COLD! SANNZOO!" Goku cries, and I can feel several thumps into the floor, like the boy is slipping about where he sits. His words physical struggles for him to warm and calm himself.
"Now." Sanzo repeats heading to the bathroom, as I enjoy and make mental note to shake hands with the man whom built this small house. For as architecturally adequate as it is, this man has somehow managed to present me with the finest lay out for a spectators activities. Sanzo's present house away from the temple enters like this. Main door opening with the open kitchen to your right, open living (where I am) to your left. Straight ahead, is the open doorway to the bedroom the monkey shares with Mr. Chastity himself before the bathroom doorway to my right. The house is small, built and designed for use only, hence why a temple would own it. No one with any sense of real style would. "GOKU!" Sanzo yells and I hear the stomping of little feet before the boy peers from the bedroom towards the bathroom doorway and me. The golden eyes are still alert and quick to jump about like that of a stalking beast, or small animal which easily becomes prey and has trained itself to watch every angle at once. Goku is bobbing in and out of the doorway as though making sure it's safe to exit, while trying to catch a glimpse of what Sanzo is doing. Obviously a bit alarmed with the slamming of items, and sound of metal hitting the floor. I have to admit, I even lean forward from my chair to take a peak at this.
Sanzo's there, his robes pealed down to his waist in hopes to save them as he fills a large metal wash bin in the center of the floor. For those of you whom haven't seen these, I'll inform you they're quiet popular amongst people whom like to can their own vegetables, do their own laundry, and seed before the seasons is ripe. Hakkai owns six, three of which are in various sizes. Sanzo's however is indisputably a wash bin, for it's about a foot and a half high and about three feet across.
"Oooh man." I groan sitting up and shaking my head as though I have just thanked every god I knew I wasn't the one Sanzo was calling.
"Stop it! Goyjo!" Goku snaps at me bobbing back into the room before hugging the wooden frame of the door with attempts to lean out and see with out exiting as much as the bob effect was causing.
"goKUU!…Come here." Sanzo orders, first shouting the boys name with intent to rip apart his vocal cords and fill his throat with blood before ordering softer, gentler coaxing the soft step the boy takes from the room into the hall. Climbing to his tippy toes to see before leaning forward to whine once he catches sight of the wash bin.
"saaanzooo." It's a low whine.
"Now. Come here." Sanzo counters firmly.
"Sannzooo is that-saaanzaaooo…" the whining continues.
"Goku. Don't make me say it again." Sanzo orders. "Come here."
Goku starts coming forward twisting the bottom of his drenched shirt and leaving droplets of water amongst his feet in a splattered path of hesitation. "I don't wanna take a bath Sanzoo." Goku quickly states shaking his head and I can hear Sanzo stand up in the room. No doubt it was the monk's movement that caused the sudden confession.
"Goku Come here." Sanzo orders softly extending a hand from the doorway to the boy desperately twisting his shirt to ribbons before it's done. In one fast yank Goku's gone from my sight and the pitch is back shaken with just that much of Goku's nasally tone. I can hear splashing, and pleading, and cursing.
"I don't wanna! SANZO! NO BATH!"
"NOOo! Nooo! COLD! AH! SANZO! THE WATers COLD!"
"If you want to Get fILTHY Than you'll TAKE A BATH And BEHAVE!"
When most of the screaming subsides I throw the rest of Sanzo's warm sweet tea into the back of my throat and stand up wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I consider continuing with my abomination of a story and tempting Sanzo that much more while he's wrestling with Goku before reconsidering as I lean into the wooden doorway and shake my head at the two.
If I had a camera now, I could certainly-Certainly blackmail the son of a bitch.
"Saaanzoo, that huuurts, you're rubbing too hard." Goku whines, his head is tilted down toward me so he's oblivious to my presence. Sanzo, the most holy, most honored, prestigious monk is there on his knees, scrubbing Goku with a sudsy cloth, grit teeth and a look of pure and utter suffering. Like he could kill himself, sit the cloth down and slit his wrists, or bind some makeshift loose out of the towels. He's disgusted, frustrated, nearly driven mad-what's this-What-I don't understand.-Wait.-Wait.-What-Wait. What-His expression….
I squint my eyes and lean in a bit to see better because his expression is changing. It's different now; he's no longer contemplating suicide.
"Give me your arm." Sanzo mumbles, and Goku seems to have relaxed now. Seemed to have given up and surrendered to the powers of the bath. He's quiet, hunched forward and not exactly pleased for he occasionally makes small grunts of discomfort, and ill appreciation for the water and the scrubbing. But Sanzo. No. Sanzo's different. His hands, his face, different. No longer is his grip restraining, but calming. His left hand, which is no longer cleaning, seems to be subconsciously rubbing a slow circle on Goku's back in hopes to make the boy feel better I am confused. His right hand is trailing the sudsy cloth down the boys spindly arm, scrubbing away the brown hues, and stubborn mud. The harsh oil slick scrubbing that was seconds ago working on depleting Goku's skin has dissipated now that the boy has surrendered. His eyes closed with an uneasy frown that while annoyed with the presence and concept of the bath itself, has nothing to do with Sanzo or the fact the man is washing him.
This too is beginning to strike me funny.
Sanzo has told me before, been crystal clear, dreadfully blunt. Don't ever leave him by himself. He is an Idiot stupider than you'll ever know. He has said this to me, warned me, taken me aside and shook a finger in my face. The boy is five in his head. He grasps things, simple concepts, in depth conversations sail over his head with out even enough recognition as to cause him frustration or embarrassment. His mind as it seems, as has been explained to me, as has been put by Hakkai, has begun at day 1 the second Sanzo brought him from the mountain.
Now, I see flaws in this, though I won't share them with Hakkai. For instance.
1. Goku knew how to walk when Sanzo found him; and walk he did all the way back to that tight ass little temple.
2. Goku knew how to talk. While only on a basic level, but I refuse to drop this as one of my key points.
3. The boy could dress himself after being given a moment to examine each article and determine on which part they would best fit.
He is by no means a vegetable, or retard though he may act retarded. So I pose the question Why if the boy Can dress himself, why can he not bath himself?
I am thinking this as I watch Sanzo wash him. Sanzo the proud, proud monk stooped to his knees and embarrassed but not that embarrassed as to be found and Watched! bathing his pupil. The boy, whom obviously does not enjoy the water, and whose spindly limbs protrude from the wash bin in thee most pedophile fashion. He wears nothing, but nor does he seem to think he should wear something. I am sure if I take a step forward I will be able to see all of this skinny brat, and does this bother him? Does it bother him he is acting in this older body with the mind of a child? Does this look a bit odd? Yes, it looks odd, the boy's too old to need help, and yet too young to want to be left alone. His fingers which grip and re-grip the sides of the wash bin (as Sanzo pulls at his limbs and scrubs down his skin) make repeated attempts to grasp fingers, wrist, shoulders, cloak of the monk as he works only to be bat away with out comment. He obviously wants out, but seems to want to be held even more.
I am confused.
I am quiet and confused.
I take a step forward.
"Uh?" Goku's ears almost twitch as he notes even the smallest sound before looking up at me. "Goyjo? GOYJO!" He yells first confused now angry and slowly creeping towards embarrassment though he's not sure what he should be embarrassed about.
"Grab that soap over there." Sanzo then orders without a glance in my direction and my eyes wander to the soap shelved next to my head.
"GOyjo! Goyjo'S IN here SANZO!" Goku yells frowning at me as I get the soap.
"Close your legs you stupid monkey." I grunt stepping up next to the bin and handing Sanzo the requested bar.
"SHut UP! GoyjO!" Goku yells leaning forward and if possible opening his legs further. Scrambling up like he's getting out before Sanzo slams a hand on top of his head and shoves him down.
"SIT! And HOLD STILL!" Sanzo yells finishing the boys neck with a few rubs before giving him the cloth. "Wash your face."
"Sanzooo." Goku whines watching me with a confused frown.
"It's alright for me to be in here Goku." I explain, restraining my laughs from just his face alone. Goodness he's never looked this confused, like he's been slapped six ways from Sunday and doesn't know what his name is anymore. "Relax." I tell him patting the air gently, hopefully reinforcing the idea he should remain seated.
"Hmp." He grunts at me as though unsure of what to say and trying to imitate Sanzo before turning to the monk. "Can I eat after this?"
All contemplation over me in the bathroom has been abandoned.
"I'll make you something." Sanzo replies leaning back to fill the counter pitcher with clean water.
"With Soy sauce?" Goku nods appeased before shaking his head distressed on sight of the jug and gulping air as though preparing to dive for clams.
"Close your eyes." Sanzo orders watching the boy jam his eyes, squeezing either side of the bin huffing breath. It's as though the pitcher is bringing plague, or acid instead of fresh water, and Goku's tightened every muscle in his body where he sits gulping air. "And your mouth." Sanzo than adds as Goku doesn't make the connection and the boy does continuing his air onslaught through his nose before Sanzo reaches forward and holds the boys nose while dumping the water over him.
"NAAA! NAAHH NAAHHHH!" GOku is up in an instant shaking his head and dancing from foot to foot after the dousing of the water. "I want to Get OUT Sanzo! I WANT-" Goku instantly shuts up when Sanzo grabs his upper arm and pulls him out to the placed towel. There is a second then where Goku stands dripping and naked shifting from foot to foot distressed. Humming up to Sanzo like an impatient child as the monk grabs him and wraps him in a towel he hugs to himself. "Sanzoo?"
"Yes I am going to make you food now." Sanzo nods, replacing the dry soap, and arranging the wet to dry along the counter near the sink. "Get your clothes."
"Put them on?" Goku asks, nodding a bit before trotting out once the monk confirms and continues cleaning up.
"50 a week." I snort, watching Sanzo stop and glance at me. "I am looking for someone just…weekends…kitchen maybe bathroom, just some light help about the home." I chuckled.
"Not a word." Sanzo growls glaring at me. "As if you would know the first thing about taking care of someone."
I am quiet.
…the first thing about taking care of someone…
Sanzo's words sting, because they mean something and the monk turns to me a second later as though realizing what he's said and we shared a knowing glance. Sanzo doesn't say I am sorry, I don't say I forgive you, but it is understood. It wasn't meant to mean that, it wasn't meant to stab me, to make me feel bad, worthless, lonely, like it had. It wasn't meant to be that, and so we share a knowing glance, and it is ok.
"Sanzooo!" Goku calls from the other room, already in the kitchen wearing some loose shorts and dragging a t-shirt behind him reaching up to the counter with one small hand searching for the food he's been promised. His fingers are still so childlike, pudgy and small, his eyes barely making it over the edge, unsure of what he can reach but wanting it just the same.
"Put your shirt on. Sit down." Sanzo orders monotone, leaving the bathroom and heading for the kitchen without a glance to Goku whom is now struggling to pull his head through his neck hole. This article has swallowed his entire upper half, and all you can see is a pair of skinny legs going into shorts before a small puff of brown hair emerging from the top of the shirt.
I leave the bathroom.
They made the mess, I am not cleaning it.
I head to the kitchen and rip his head through the hole fast enough to make him fall, but with a grip tight enough to keep him up. He doesn't thank me or even really acknowledge me for as soon as he can see again he's scurrying to the table and into his chair watching Sanzo like the man is embarking on the cure for the latest disease. -There's a cure! Ones been found! But how? BY Who-Didn't you hear, it was some monk living about a half a mile from his temple. Supposedly he's always been a genius, he discovered it while living with his top pupil-
"Stay in your seat." Sanzo orders without even turning from the counter to see Goku already inching towards the edge anxious to join him because that's where the food is. "Don't spill it either." Sanzo adds bringing a small bowl of soy-sauced rice to the table before plopping it in front of the boy.
"YOu put the sauce on it! Soy sauce!" Goku exclaims happily before shoveling some to his mouth as fast as he can. "Thank you it's GOoD!" the boy yells before flashing me a squint the second I take a step forward as though to say. -This is my food. This is not your food.-
"So I met her at the pub down the street. You know the one next to the market with the weird smelling bananas." I say giving Sanzo a look he doesn't notice because he's starting to run his hand through Goku's hair as though he's going to find something there. It's odd. I ignore this.
"Don't buy their fruit. It's disgusting. Someone should close them down." he grumbles, adding a second hand to Goku's thick strands and the boy is either oblivious to the contact or too familiar with it to care. "Fucking disgusting." Sanzo adds, pulling his hand back with a heavy sigh and Goku instantly rips his up and covers his head turning to Sanzo wearily.
"My hair is good Sanzo." Goku says quietly before gritting his teeth as Sanzo's frowns immerges.
"It's dirty. We're washing it."
"nOOO!" Goku suddenly screams and I almost jump out of my skin. He's got a pair of lungs on him and when he adds that pinch of nasal tone it's like a fucking bomb. "NaAAHHH NOOO!" the boy yells shoving the food away and scurrying from his chair like he's going to make for the hills, but Sanzo snatches a lock of his hair too fast to phantom.
"SHUP UP! GOOKUUUUU!" He yells and now that I have time to think about it Sanzo's voice is a bit frightening when he does that too. For unlike Goku's nasal tone, Sanzo's becomes raw and gritty when he screams that loud and it's as though part of his voice is no longer recognizable to me. It's weird. Black magic, that has to be it. The man's a priest anyway, he'd know how to do all that shit.
This is also when I realize, as Sanzo enacts in a sort of tug-a-war between Goku's head and the rest of his body, that the boy is leaving his food. Unattended. In my presence, and my eyes are solely on that as both of them somehow get back to the bathroom. My brain arguing amongst itself when in fact the death will occur. It could be now. It could be right now, when Sanzo drags the brat into the bathroom and just can't take the screaming anymore and drowns him. Or they slip and one or both hit their head too fast and hard against the porcelain. Then they'll ask me, how'd it happen? Who was first? Where WERE you! And I'll shrug and mutter "I don't know, it was all so fast and intense!" but they won't understand me, because my mouth will be full with rice.
Sanzo's not a bad cook, and this dish is more appealing than I would have thought. I fork up a few spoonfuls and nod approvingly before taking a step back to glance into the bathroom when the yelling gets really loud. "HEY!" I yell, when it looks like both of them are still alive and in dire need of help. Though I won't and am not willing to participate in any of the murders that may occur. Both ignore me, and I can see why. Sanzo's got his hands full with one arm looped under Goku's chest hoisting the brat up to the sink while scrubbing at his dowsed head as every single limb flails, and possible form of twisting is enacted by the small body. Goku's thrashing under the strong grip, both hands against the sink pressing away from it, struggling and begging to be let up. Screaming that he can't breath when in fact he's gulping enough air to release such blood curdling screams. Sanzo's long ago abandoned telling him to shut up, and this is both amazing and a sign to me. I should either help. Or eat this food and go.
"god daMNT!" I yell almost covering my ears with that scream as Goku suddenly gets loose and runs full speed from the bathroom with a head like a wet mop. Each strand pouring water down onto him as he scrambles into the sitting room where we just were and backs himself into one of the corners sinking to his butt panting. His entire body is trembling like that of a wounded animal. Like one after it's branded, or those expensive dogs that need parts cut off, or clipped. Goku seems tormented by what happened, severely confused and just now abandoned because Sanzo imposed all that suffering and without Sanzo there is no one to run to, and so he's hiding while thoroughly soaking himself.
"Goku." Sanzo immerges from the bathroom and sweeps the place with his eyes before landing on me with a hard glare as I stand there chewing with the brat's food in my hand. He extends a hand for the dish, and I give in with a sigh as he takes it and heads back to the very chair he was in holding a fluffy towel. This is when I take a second to consider the obvious. I can see Goku. Sanzo I KNOW can see Goku, for the boy hasn't hid himself very effectively and yet both of us are pretending we can't. This is what is confusing. BOTH! Both! of us are pretending this. Why me? Why am I going along with this game? I wasn't included in the bathroom charade, in this circus, and yet somehow I am already involved. Just my presence adding a new flavor to this. Ramifying a new route from routine for them both.
"What time were you at the pub." Sanzo asks sitting the half eaten bowl along side the table so it's easy visible for Goku.
"Six." I deadpan watching this. It's such insanity. I am waiting for the murder.
"Six." Sanzo grunts back, as though something about the time he disapproves of. He lowers one of his hands to his knees and turns to Goku then, as though suddenly spotting him and the boy scurries from the corner and directly into the man's robes and legs. Whining into them as though he wants to tell Sanzo what happened. How awful it was, in which order the apocalypse came and how he managed to survived, but he's confused because Sanzo was there. "And she was a red head." Sanzo states, running the towel through Goku's hair and soaking the water away as I stroll to the chair I was in last and plop down.
"Curly." I repeat. "A curly red head."
He grunts, and I watch Goku's small hands worm back onto the tabletop to verify his food before pushing his way up and into Sanzo's lap.
I am waiting for the death.
Goku makes himself comfortable leaning back into the mans chest before pulling his food into his own lap and eating away while sniffling. I am wondering if maybe Sanzo's going to take the chopstick Goku's eating with and jam it into his jugular, or perhaps his eye or ear. I am wondering if perhaps I should change my story and tell him she was really a brunette-and then it happens. Before he looks up at me and tells me how disgusting the market is, and not to ever buy fruit there, he lays his hand on Goku's wet forehead and smiles. Every so soft, and at an angle where I can't see all of his face, and all of his features. So I'll forever wonder exactly how it looked, and how much teeth was on one side, and if there were too much lip on the left. He smiled.
One day I'll tease Goku about how Sanzo has a thing for brunettes. I'll pull him aside, loop my arm about his neck so as to draw him close without even the slightest hint of homosexuality and I'll whisper. You know…Sanzo's got a thing for brunettes. Then I'll nod slowly with my eyebrows as high as they can go, giving him the look. And he'll be blown away with what I am saying
He'll shove me away, tell me to shut up but his eyes will lie. I'll know. Oh I'll know. See through him like glass. I'll know he wants more. Needs more. Craves more. When his chin starts tilting from me, all of his pride every shred of dignity trying to fight me and I'll mutter. It's true. Just that one breadcrumb. Just that one tease for him. He always has. I'll continue. For as long as I've known him. Ask Hakkai. I'll throw in, just so it sounds like I Really know what I am talking about. Like he was a fool not to instantly believe the very breath of my words.
Then he will be mine.
Putty in my hands, dough for me to mold. He'll whip his head to me, with wide untrusting eyes. Eyes that argue. Always? He's always had a thing for brunettes? Goyjo's not a liar Goyjo's a god! …Hakkai knew about that? I'll have him. My slave, my disciple, my heir. I'll plant that seed in his head. Tease him, throw food at him when he's not looking, kick that backs of his knees while he's walking and I shall win. My words will fester in his mind, until Sanzo's hair preference will force him to reanalyze his life. From his waking moment when he looked up and saw the man frowning down at him, to that night when we all fall asleep in the back of Hakaryuu. He'll think to himself. Sanzo has a thing for brunettes, and slowly all the signs he's always missed will become apparent. Every endearing stroke, every affectionate smack. All of Sanzo's hard, painstaking effort to remain emotionless, to remain detached from the boy will become clearer. Goku will stop asking what's wrong with me, and start asking what's wrong with him. He'll see what I see. Know what I know. He'll turn to me, the greatest mind he knows, the one whom saw what he couldn't see and ask. Without questions, and without words his eyes will tell me, when he turns to me I'll see the text scrolling up his pupils. Asking me how I knew. How long it has been true, and what can he do. What can he do to be loved. To be loved like he wants to be loved. To be touched like he wants to be touched. To be held and caressed, blanketed in affection, sheltered, protected and shielded from evil. He'll ask without words that anyone can understand, he'll speak our language. Use our secret codes, know our native tongue. He'll say Goyjo-you eroKappa! Hentai! In just that pitch, with just enough nasal sound from his own voice, and I'll say I saw Sanzo smile once…and I'll trail, I'll make him -want to know, yearn to know, need, crave, die to know.- When you were younger. I'll add with a casual shrug. I won't tell him it was the first time I'd seen Sanzo smile. I won't tell him, I wasn't prepared for it, that it was unexpected, rather random, that I was dumbstruck. That for a moment my jaw hung from my chin like a loose cabinet held on by one screw. That my eyes widened, that my thoughts stopped and I had stared, literally stared at the unholy most stubbornly rooted person I'd met in my entire life. I won't tell him this. I'll just shrug stay cool and casual. I tell him Sanzo smiled once, when he was younger. Truly smiled, really smiled. That when he did his eyes softened, and it seemed as though they became slits of velvet on glass.
When? Goku will ask, not fully understanding what I mean. That it happened when he was younger. That I saw it and recognized it for what it was. That it was affection, and gratitude and warmth, physical warmth escaping the mans body. That he thought no one was looking, that he thought no one would ever see, suspect, or bat an eye. But I saw. But I knew, and I waited. Patiently, calmly, fidgeting, biting my tongue, grinding my forehead into every wooden surface. That I waited until I could pull him aide, loop my arm about his neck casually to tell him- I saw Sanzo fall in love. I saw Sanzo Kiss someone. He will be outraged, furious, bottled with emotions he can't begin to recognize, and though it will humor me to hear the first name he will utter. The syllables he'll grind out with disgust and jealousy as he annunciates the supposed culprit I'll shake my head and allay all his fears with ease. Who is it? Who is it Goyjo? He'll demand, putting force into his voice, trying to make me think of all the times I've taken a step back when I've witnessed his strength, speed, and violence. But I'll answer him, I won't go down that road, I won't bring up who can kick whose ass, faster, better, harder. I won't. I'll simply answer him without a tease. Without a game. I'll say it, lean into his ear, dart my eyes about to make sure no ones watching, to catch my rendezvous so after I am done I can slip away, leave him to ponder, leave him to think. He'll need it, he'll be confused but I know he'll be ok, because I've shown him every little sign. Forced him to reconsider his entire life, seconds, hours, days, before I'll tell him what he really wants to know. What he really needs, craves, will die to know.
I saw Sanzo fall in love Goku. I saw his first kiss. I'll say. And I'll tell you who it was. I'll whisper eyeing my get away as I let my arm slip from his body. It was you. I'll tell him right before I leave, so I can see his breath hitch, his eyes widen, his heart stop for that second his brain clicks and every second he ever thought there was something more between him and the monk will flash before his eyes and he'll see it. Like red paint spilled into the image, like a sharpie circling the crucial points. He'll see it and he'll know there was something more, and he'll know it's time for him to make his move because Sanzo's had his turn, been making them for years. It's his turn now. It's his time now. This is what he'll know. This is what I'll do. This is what I'll say. When I tell him. When I say, as I draw him aside. When I end his life and start it all over again. This is what I'll say, this is how it will be, and then I will have two friends whom will be more than just friends. Then I'll have two down and two more to go on our list of four waiting to fall in love. Waiting to find what we need to complete ourselves. Two down, and two to go; when I tell him.