Outgrowing inhibitors 2

[moonshadows]

Gojyo is smoking when I wake up an indeterminate amount of time later. The cloak that prevents him from seeing whatever horror my face now is also prevents me from seeing the sky and judging the time. Hakuryuu only chirps in response to my silent question - she has no idea how long I was asleep or how close we are to our destination, just ‘some’ and ‘far’. Gojyo shifts at the chirp, guessing that I must be awake, and I realize that I know he is smoking both by the faint whiffs of smoke that drift by in the wind, and the glowing shape of his chi. I can practically see him, sprawled in the driver’s seat, back against the door and legs on the passenger seat, one knee up for his wrist to rest on, the other hand loosely draped on the steering wheel.

I have never been able to see the shape of someone’s body just from their chi before, much less without even looking in their direction. This must be a new development brought about by my chi not being shackled by-

The memory of why I am where I am, where we are going and for what purpose, slams into me with the brute force of a charging boar, and through the panic that seems to be more rested than me, the cold, calculating corner of my mind produces bitter laughter. Of course, trotters and a vestigial tail, a keen sense of smell and what I realize must be some sort of ridge of stiff fur that runs down my spine. Someone up in Heaven must be laughing at their joke finally reaching the punchline. Abandoned in the year of the Boar, given the meaningless surname that persisted through my symbolic death and rebirth, and it is a boar youkai that I have been revealed at last to be.

My panic transmutes easily into rage; if I ever cross paths with the divine being whose grand idea this sick joke was, I will be very tempted to abandon Right Action and show them exactly what I have become.

The dusty magenta of Gojyo’s chi lights up with searing orange and bile yellow, the hand that had been on his knee now resting lightly on the cloth covering my shoulder, and with effort I try to rein in both terror and rage. I cannot find the words to reassure him, even if I could utter them, and with the emotional equivalent of bloody hands I struggle to convey even the slightest shred of comfort. It’s not very effective, with how concerning Gojyo’s concern is, but it distracts the rage and the panic and replaces them with shame and self-loathing. Then I remember the specter’s accusation from this morning, and the world fades away as I tumble into a spiral of wanting, questioning and double-guessing that want, denying myself even the idea of action because of my sins and then lashing myself with them because my wants are forfeit, but Gojyo’s are my unspoken command.

If he wants - but does he want? He’s never so much as hinted, but I’ve watched him closely enough to know that he does not go where he’s not welcome. Have my issues been keeping him from acting on his desires? I know from his nightmares how desperately he yearns to be loved - if that is truly what he wants, it would fall under my vows - but if that is what he wants, then I have been acting unforgivably, both in not being aware of it and in being too damaged to be able to give him what he needs.

If he does want...that...could I fulfill my promises? I had been effectively acting as a good wife while we were living together, but if he were to give me one of the looks he lavishes on beautiful women, the ones that promise an evening of wickedly carnal delights, how would I react? That is - how would I react past bottling up every thought and feeling, leaving me a passive doll to be ravished, knowing that he would never act if he got the slightest hint that I was not eagerly consenting. Would it be my duty to respond eagerly? Am I failing him by not throwing myself into his bed? He knows that I will not let myself have anything I might want, and has developed ways to ensure that I get it anyway. Is he holding back what he wants out of respect for the confused tangle, the emotional wreck that is my heart?

And is he, or am I projecting onto him the things I will not let myself admit to?

How would I even go about broaching the subject?

What would happen if I were incorrect in my assumptions?

It’s bad enough, being terrified that my monstrous body will make him turn away. If I let myself admit to what the illusion of Gojyo’s corpse accused me of, and he doesn’t feel that way, would it cause our friendship to wither and die? Even if I didn’t bring it up with him, if I allowed those feelings out of their dark prison, would they eat me alive? Would I be pressuring him with my feelings? My mind shudders away from that possibility. No, I will keep them locked down, walled away in the darkness of my heart.

But if he does...

What if he does, but being revealed as the monster I am causes those feelings to die?

I don’t know which is worse - the certainty that Kanan would turn away from the abomination I became to save her, or the jaggedly sharp uncertainty of my best friend’s feelings.

***********************************************************

“We’re here,” Gojyo says, and my awareness of the world snaps back into focus.

We’re here. Here, in Weilan. Here, at Chesu’s shop. Terror and desperation claw at me as I scrabble awkwardly in the back of the jeep, but Hakuryuu chirps in warning and then I am crouched on the street, the cloak thankfully covering me completely.

“Left a change of clothes with Chesu,” Gojyo says from somewhere beside me, and I can hear him rapping the knuckles of one hand against a door. “Hakuryuu’ll stay here and wait for you. Come find me when you’re done, hey? She’ll know where I am.”

Words are still beyond me, but I nod and feel a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Then there are legs passing in front of me, leaving me staring at the bottom of the door Gojyo must have knocked on.

The door opens. “Ah, Mister Cho! Come in, come in,” Chesu enthuses. “I am very eager to take the measurements of your chi and get you fitted.”

Carefully, I stand and shuffle into the shop, Chesu going from holding the door to scurrying ahead, ushering me into what must be his workroom. I am, understandably, preoccupied and not paying much attention to the details. Chesu bustles about, moving things from one surface to another before turning to me with something that looks like a very bulky and intricate metal bracer held in one hand and some sort of wand in the other. Two crystals are mounted to the tip in a Y shape and the wand itself is...bulky, with several tiny crystals embedded in it. He waves the wand at me and the crystals light up, but he frowns.

“Mister Cho,” he scolds me, “I cannot take an accurate measurement and fit your lovely inhibitors to you properly if you are wearing another one. And I understand that you are not comfortable without them, but really, you are quite overwhelming it. All it is doing is interfering with my readings. You will need to remove it.”

Remove-? Oh, the earring. I’d forgotten about it, which I suppose does prove that it’s not able to hold my chi even remotely in check by itself. The problem...

“Not wearing,” I say carefully, but he frowns.

“Didn’t quite understand that, but I’ll guess that you have claws that would make it difficult to remove by yourself. ”

I extend one hand through the folds of the cloak, and he chuckles.

“Indeed. Alright, I’ll give you a hand. Where is it?”

Awkwardly, I press the black talon-spears together and feel along my abdomen until they stop at a spot that feels dimmer to my chi-sense.

Chesu blinks. “I don’t understand; there’s nothing there.”

I press more firmly, feeling the points dig into my skin. He waves the crystal wand near them.

“Yes, I know it’s there, but there’s nothing there.” He goes still, and the silence suddenly makes me cringe.

“Cho Hakkai,” he says firmly, like a disapproving parent, “did you put an inhibitor inside your body?”

I nod, and he crosses his arms. “I can’t help with that. It needs to come out.”

But- that would mean-

“Come now,” he chides again. “You are a chi healer. I will be very surprised indeed if you have never healed worse wounds on your own body.”

He’s right, but I’ve never been the one to cause them. Well, aside from that gunshot wound.

Chesu makes a disappointed clucking sound. “You healed with your inhibitors on, and it looks like you’re in clan form, so you have more than enough chi to heal yourself with them off.”

The thought of actually plunging those talons into my own flesh has me trembling - but I have to do it. If I ever want to be able to face my friends, my daughter again, I have to do it.

Besides, punishment is doing what you don’t want to do.

The flesh parts before my talons with disturbing ease. It’s tricky to grab the earring with them until I stop treating them like fingers and think more like chopsticks. Sullenly, I pull it out and drop it into Chesu’s impatiently-waiting hand, then press my wrist awkwardly to the wound and concentrate on healing the damage I did to myself.

“Where’s the other one?” Chesu demands, and I shake my head. “Only one? Only one? Mister Cho, you were wearing one half of a pair of inhibitors while also wearing a matched set? Do you have any idea- of course you don’t. You couldn’t know how badly that would skew your chi flow.” He turns to a worktable of some sort, muttering under his breath for a long minute. “I never thought it would be easy, fitting a made-youkai, but I did not anticipate you would make things so complex.”

Chesu turns back to me, fiddling with the rings of the metal bracer. Then he picks up the wand and waves it up and down my body, making thoughtful noises as the various tiny crystals light up. More fiddling with the bracer, and then he grunts.

“You’ll need to spend at least an hour with your chi totally uninhibited before I can get a final accurate reading,” he says sternly. “And once you’re fitted, you will need to give the inhibitors a full day to adjust to you before you use your chi for anything. Do you understand? Absolutely no active use of your chi, or the adjustment will be skewed and the inhibitors will be set incorrectly. Very likely they will be set too low, and not be able to keep you in a human shape.”

That makes my blood run cold, and I nod.

“Good. Now, feel free to make yourself comfortable while I start on the adjustments.”

I do my best to sit down, but I’m still not used to the way my body works and the hood falls free of my head while the cloak - already parted for my impromptu surgery - leaves my dark-furred body with all its damning false scars exposed for Chesu to take in with a startled expression.

“Zhuhuai,” he blurts in surprise. “I was not expecting that to be your clan, but that does put your ascension into perspective.”

There’s no way I can make the horror that is my mouth cooperate enough to ask anything, but I make an inquisitive sound.

“Made-youkai are rare, as you well know,” Chesu says. “There are theories about why your kind wind up in the clans they do, but very little data to support any of them. All we know for certain is that whatever clan a made-youkai winds up as, it is fitting.”

I think about the general Tongpu was following, and the distinctly centipede-like form he took when he transformed. Then my thoughts shudder from what he did to gain that power, to what Hyakugan Maoh’s clan was like.

I want to ask what the Zhuhuai clan is like, but the teeth attached to my lips make careless words unwise. Instead, I drape my spear-taloned fingers over my knees and contemplate the cloven hooves on my feet while Chesu whistles happily at his worktable.

I have a clan. There is an entire clan of youkai out there that look like me. I may be a monster, but I am not a unique monster. And apparently, whatever the Zhuhuai clan are like, it has granted Chesu insight into my murder spree. I have a clan, and if my youkai form becomes known, my actions will reflect upon them. If my youkai form becomes known, anyone who knows the Zhuhuai clan will judge me on their reputation.

I have no idea what their reputation is, or what actions will reflect well or poorly on them.

At some point, I am aware of Chesu crouched beside me, humming as he moves the crystal wand around just above the surface of my body. He slides the bracer carefully onto one forearm, twisting rings ever so slightly, until finally he utters a pleased sound and touches a catch of some sort. The bracer closes - I hadn’t even realized it was open - and suddenly I am back in human form, too relieved to care that I am naked.

“Your chi measurements are very impressive,” he says cheerfully. “It will take some time for you to adjust to a proper chi flow, so mind you go carefully for a week or two until you get used to where your limits are.”

I lick my lips, grateful that I can. “Ah, could you explain that? And possibly how my actions with inhibitors have impacted things?”

Chesu sits back on his heels. “By wearing your inhibitors constantly - and, if I were to hazard a guess, you put them on before you completed your ascension, did you not? Yes, by doing that,” he continues at my nod, “you artificially raised the floor of your ambient chi flow.” He laughs at my puzzled look. “If you grasp an empty wine skin in both fists, it will fill much quicker, but that level of fullness is misleading.”

“So I am not as...that is, my chi levels were artificially raised?” That’s a relief.

He nods. “Your floor - the level of your chi flow at its lowest point, the volume it would take to fill the empty wine skin - was artificially high. Your maximum capacity,” he continues as I am starting to relax, “remains the same.”

I swallow. “So...if I had been able to do a thing before now...that was not because my floor was artificially high?”

“Whatever crest you experienced is accurate,” he confirms. “That you so easily held clan form is, by itself, an indicator of the depth of your strength.”

My heart drops into my stomach. “Then...if I had been able to temporarily maintain a state of incredible stature...”

He gives me a frank, amused look. “If you were able to attain a Maoh state, then you are a Maoh. But considering where you got your inhibitors, that can’t be a surprise.”

“I tried not to think about it,” I tell him dryly.

“I don’t doubt it,” he replies. “If I may - what was your goal in the actions that led to your ascension? I know that Hyakugan Maoh was thoroughly distasteful, but most people do not respond to impartial cruelty with mass murder.”

My gaze drops to the floor. “The Dark Crow took my wife as tribute to him.”

“My sympathies for your loss,” Chesu murmurs.

“She died avenged.” The words are like ash in my mouth, because it may be leftover conditioning from my childhood, but I have kept the secret of her death - even from Sanzo and Gojyo.

“I have no doubt of that,” Chesu says archly. “Not with you being Zhuhuai Clan.”

Again, there is an implication that I desperately want to follow up on, but Chesu is reaching for the bracer. My hand covers it up.

“I need to perform the final adjustments,” he says patiently.

“Do I need to not be wearing this while you do?”

He sighs, like a parent humoring a stubborn child. “Fine, you can wear it while I work. But,” he continues sternly as I start to relax, “you will need to learn how to live as a youkai. Keeping your chi inhibited as you have isn’t healthy.”

“It worked for me so far,” I retort, doing my best to keep my tone to Right Speech and not as sullen as I feel.

Chesu gives me a frank look as he stands up. “It did not. Your chi flows are horribly twisted. Do you have nightmares?”

I look up, startled and guilty. That’s putting it mildly, but-

“I thought so,” he says before I can even open my mouth. The wand gets shaken at me like a chiding finger before he turns to his workbench. “Inhibiting your chi before the flows are even established - I can only imagine the sort of imbalance you have been living with. Your body and your chi must have been horribly out of sync. Did you experience uneven energy levels in the weeks after your ascension?”

“Yes, but-”

“Imbalance,” he repeats, half-turning to shake some slender, silvery wand at me before turning back around. “And then you added half of a pair to the mix! Paired inhibitors are like an ouroboros,” he says, absently waving his free hand over his shoulder to sketch an infinity symbol in the air. “What chi one takes in from the wearer, it gives to the other to weave into the enchantments that will be fueled by that chi. But one, by itself, simply takes in chi. It is a leak, a drain that does nothing but slowly attempt to empty your chi pool. I have never seen the effects of pairing it with a set of matched inhibitors the way you have. I can only hypothesize that the draining effect was magnified as the earring tried to provide chi to three inhibitors.”

“I can confirm that,” I offer apologetically. It occurs to me that I am, no doubt, a rare case and that Chesu is likely holding vast curiosity about me in check. At least I can do this much. “My chi pool was drained rather severely after I put it in - and I did not injure myself specifically to do it. There was a fairly vicious fight with sisters who had been infected by a parasite youkai, forced to fight to the death. I simply stuck it in one of my wounds, and let the wound heal around it.”

The soft sound Chesu makes is disapproving, but mollified.

“My first month, my chi was largely occupied by healing the assortment of wounds - near-fatal and negligible both - I suffered. The worst was a gut wound-”

Suddenly, I realize that having been entirely youkai, the scar might not be there anymore, and the possibility of its loss is surprisingly sharp - but when I glance down, it is still there in all its horrific glory.

“It had almost healed when Sanzo found me. He had been sent by the temple to bring me in. There was a bit of a scuffle and the wound was re-opened, again nearly fatal. I understand it was a few days before I could be brought to a chi-healer.”

My words trail off as I remember the old youkai, and I remember him saying that my eye couldn’t be healed. But my vision is crisp and clear. Going completely youkai and back again must have healed it. Was that the hesitation in his voice? That it could be healed, but only if I took my inhibitors off?

“For the next week or two,” I continue before Chesu can ask, “my body suffered regular injury - skin lacerations and infection. When that stopped, it was a handful of days for the damage to be healed, and after that is when I first became aware of my youkai chi and began actively using it.”

Chesu turns, one hand playing with something on his left ear, and regards me with that leaf-green and metallic grey in his chi. “Amazing,” he murmurs. “And this was with no assistance, no instruction? What was it that you first did with your chi?”

Darkness, rain, Kanan’s corpse. “I lit a lamp,” I answer dryly.

That gets me a frown of confusion. Chesu pulls his hand away from his ear, something silver glinting between his fingers as his ears lengthen into points and his pupils narrow to slits. “You lit a lamp?”

“It was dark, and I really, really wanted it to be lit.” How had I not noticed, how did it not occur to me that someone who crafts youkai power inhibitors would, himself, be youkai? “Putting the lamp out was a lot more difficult.”

“I could ask you questions for a week and not run out,” he says, shaking his head before crouching beside me. “Let’s try this on you.”

‘This’, it turns out, is a curving shell-like shape of silver with my inhibitors...mounted to it? Stuck through it? I can’t tell from the quick glance I get before Chesu moves it behind my head.

“I’ll assume you are unbothered by having to re-pierce your ear,” he says dryly. “Hold still...”

The metal is warm against the back of my ear, the points of the flattened rings a tactile experience I suddenly long for, the security of cold fire keeping my monstrous form in check - but I have a clan, I am not truly a monster.

“Arm out please,” he murmurs, and I hold out the arm with the bulky bracer.

Chesu fiddles with it, and suddenly it feels like something that had been tight is now loose. There are pointed nails on the ends of my fingers, and I keep my jaw clenched so as to not cut myself on the fangs I have to assume I now have. The silver is even warmer against my ear, and I can feel the teasing point of one inhibitor against my skin, but the bite I long for does not come.

“Good, good. You will need to close the top one first, then the middle, then the bottom.”

The hand on the bracer twists those rings again, the feeling of looseness intensifies, and with a spike of panic I am once again hugely muscled with fur. Chesu pulls the bracer off my arm entirely, and then there is a welcome point of pain on the top of my ear. My form starts shrinking, and I am viscerally reminded of when Hyakugan Maoh went through this process, but in reverse. The second ring shuts with a tiny click and then Chesu is bringing my hand - laden with pointy nails, but not spikes of black bone - to my ear.

“Feel where they are,” he says quietly, but I am already caressing the familiar rings of metal. “Feel the catch.”

With his fingers guiding mine, I press the tiny catch and the middle ring pops open. I close it again before I can shift too much, and then close the third before he can react. The nebulous looseness disappears, my chi now reassuringly tight again inside my skin.

Chesu gives me a look of ‘I know what you’re doing’. “As you can see, the mounting plate fits against the back of your ear in all forms, and the top ring will close even in clan form. This is no longer a static inhibitor - the mounting plate adds flexibility and control. If your chi flows weren’t badly warped, you would be able to feel how the draw on your chi is much lighter now. Remember, it will take a week or two to get used to your chi flows, and it is imperative that you do not actively use your chi at all for the next day. That means nothing until sunset tomorrow. I’ve already had words with your dragon about this,” he adds firmly.

Startled, I look around and notice Hakuryuu curled up on what must be the promised change of clothing. She looks up and chirps sternly at me.

“One last thing,” Chesu says as he stands and gestures me to my clothes. “The mounting plate contains enchantments to act as pressure release. If your chi spikes up too much, one or more of the rings will open so that you do not suffer an energetic injury. I suggest, at the least, taking an hour each day to remove the inhibitors and let your chi flow freely.”

There’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to do that, whether I actually want to or not, but what I say is, “Thank you.”

Getting dressed is a relief. I feel as though everything has been put behind me as I adjust my sash and finger the familiar rings on my ear.

“Something to think about,” Chesu says as I turn to him, confident again now that I look as I should. “I know you are not comfortable with your ascension, but you must admit that you did a great good, removing a powerful source of evil from the world. However, there is a balance to everything. You removed a tumor from society, but what has replaced it?”

That’s an excellent question. I really don’t know what has filled the power vacuum in Hyakugan Maoh’s former territory.

“The lives you took that fueled your ascension - true, some of them may have been innocent, but most were not. You now possess the power of a Maoh. If another Maoh, a force of cruelty and sorrow, decided to take what had belonged to Hyakugan Maoh, who would stop him?”

Before I can process that enough to even think of coming up with a response, Chesu hands me the earring that I removed from my body.

“You may as well take this,” he says dismissively. “It’s useless without its mate, and I don’t work with gems. Consider it a souvenir.”

“Ah. Thank you,” I say reflexively, giving him a half-bow. “Thank you for everything. If I am ever in Weilan again, I will place myself at your disposal for interrogation.”

Chesu smiles at me like a doting uncle. “My good sir, it was my pleasure.”

Hakuryuu settles on my shoulder with a chirp as he leads the way back to the door of his shop. Night has not quite fallen yet, but neither can it be said to be day. My eyepiece is still in its pouch, clutched in one hand, and I add the ruby earring before tucking it away.

“Lead the way,” I tell my little dragon, and she points with her head.

With the travel cloak draped over one arm, I follow her pointing head as she directs me through a few cross-streets, my mood considerably better than it has been in a long time. While my chi is once again bound reassuringly tight - something I hadn’t realized I had been feeling until today - it is somehow less constricting, like being swaddled in silk rather than heavy wool like the cloak I am carrying. I feel both like I have a boundless pool of chi I could do anything with, and at the same time, utterly secure in my continued human shape. I would be whistling if I had ever learned how. Instead, I let Kanan’s song play in my memory.

Just hold on tight, even if your heart is breaking. Reach into your soul, even if you can’t see tomorrow. Yes, believe in the future. You can take another look from the other side...

It is no surprise when I wind up at the door to a drinking establishment of some sort, bustling with activity in this beautiful dusk hour. I slip inside, eyes scanning, years of experience letting me find Gojyo almost before the door has closed behind me. He is sitting at a table in the corner, and-

My good mood dies. Gojyo is slumped at the table, with a worrying number of empty bottles in front of him. For him to have been drinking this hard, he had to have been nearly sick with concern and anxiety, and I didn’t pick up on it because I was-

-because I was nearly sick with my own anxiety, I remind myself firmly as I weave my way over to his table. Gojyo would not want me to make myself suffer even more for his sake. I’ll just have to make this up to him somehow, and I can start by-

I can’t flex my chi. I can’t metabolize the alcohol out of him.

Hakuryuu nips my ear lightly to get my attention, then chirps and points at the door. She is concerned as well, and will be waiting outside to take us home.

“Thank you,” I murmur, stroking her neck once as she climbs onto my wrist before launching her at the door.

Gojyo does not look up as I approach, and I can see from his posture that he will need assistance  to remain upright. The little bag I packed is slung over the back of one chair, and I settle it over one shoulder and across my body as a waitress comes over.

“Excuse me,” I say as she looks about to say something. “Is his tab paid in full?”

“Y-yes,” she answers, somewhat surprised. “Tab and tip.”

“Good,” I tell her firmly. “I’m here to take him home.”

Her face clears with relief, and Gojyo looks vaguely up as she reaches past me to collect some of the empty bottles.

“Hey, beautiful,” he slurs, eyes unfocused. “You goin’ my way?”

The waitress snorts, and I smile blandly. “Yes, Gojyo. I’m going to take you home with me.” He’s not quite drunk enough to flirt with a coat hung on the wall, but he’s well into the stage of flirting with anyone who doesn’t have facial hair.

He doesn’t protest as I help him to his feet, one arm over my shoulder and mine around his waist. I can feel him trying his best, but I’m practically carrying him to the door, his hair hanging in front of his face as he struggles and mostly fails to keep his head upright. To say this is worrying is a vast understatement; before I learned how to metabolize alcohol and ease hangovers, I had only seen him this incapacitated a handful of times. This is the result of misery, of pain so deep that he was drinking with intent to not be able to form a single coherent thought. Without me able to use my chi, he is going to be utterly miserable come the morning.

I owe him so, so much. I will not blame myself for this and claim this is my fault - he made it clear years ago that any consequences he suffers for his actions are solely his responsibility - but he put himself in this situation for my sake, and I will do everything possible to ease his pain.

An incoming patron holds the door for us as we exit into the dusk, encroaching shadows washing the details out of the world and staining every color with the shades of night. I can see Hakuryuu in jeep form a few yards away, but as I drag Gojyo past a row of decorative bushes, he pulls back. His chi, already muddy, curdles with dark blue-green and roils in a way I have never seen so clearly. I let him try to stand on his own, hand on his shoulder and ready to grab him should he fall, and wind up holding him mostly upright by the back of his shirt as he vomits noisily and profusely into the bushes. When he is done, he goes utterly limp and I take him in my arms, his legs dangling on one side and his head lolling on the other. Hakuryuu chirps in a subdued tone of worry as I climb into the back, where there is more room for his legs, and get us both settled - me leaning against the back of the front seat, and him leaning against me. She chirps again once we are secure and begins driving, navigating her way slowly out of town.

The first hour or so, I am nearly entirely preoccupied by keeping Gojyo secure through the twists, turns, ups, and downs. Although my back takes a slight beating as the uneven movement jostles us, Gojyo’s head is pillowed on my chest and I am able to spare him even the slightest bump.

Sanzo, I would gladly suffer any hurt if it means that you would be spared it.

This is different. My determination to protect Sanzo from harm stems from respect and debt, but what fuels my desire to protect Gojyo is the simple desire to not see him hurt. Compared to Sanzo, I hold my life worthless. But compared to Gojyo...

As with Kanan, it doesn’t matter what worth my life does or does not have. Hers - and his - are vastly more precious to me.

I love him.

I love him, with the same intensity I love - loved? - Kanan.

How long has this been the case?

Absently, I caress the hair away from his face. Not being able to actively use my chi, to metabolize the alcohol in his system and prevent him from waking up with the sort of hangover that has him feeling like death, nags at me. But I can’t risk the inhibitors adjusting incorrectly, and anyway, Hakuryuu would feel it and chide me. But, I remember, I initially taught myself how to do both of those things so that I could spare Gojyo that misery. Because I did not want to see him endure it. Because as much as I did not mind caring for him during a hangover, gently washing him and feeding him, I would rather he not suffer through it at all.

Right Thought demands I go back over that, because I have not been truthful in the privacy of my own mind. Did not mind? No. I enjoyed caring for him, fussing over him.

Being able to express my affection in actions, rather than words.

Just like with Kanan.

His first horrific hangover was within the first month that I spent with him as Hakkai. I have loved him, then, almost from the beginning. No...

I guess you just forgot about me, now that you have a name.

I am forced to admit that I fell in love with Gojyo sometime during the last month of Gonou’s life. Once that thought is out in the open, it is laughably easy to unravel the rest. Gojyo saw me dying in the woods, carried me home, cared for me while I was unconscious for a week, and demanded nothing for it - not even my name. Just like Kanan, he was kindness incarnate in a world I had believed was utterly devoid of it. And then, when he spent a month providing for me, welcoming me into his tiny home without a hint of protest or discomfort...in retrospect, I would be astounded that I had not realized my affections for him, except that I know all too well that the only force stronger than my denial is the Merciful Goddess herself.

The night, when I pull myself out of my thoughts to pay attention to the world around me, is warm and quiet. Hakuryuu is driving down the smooth and well-traveled road, her chi equal parts content and concerned. Gojyo is deeply asleep in my arms, the magenta of his chi faded and dry, like ash. These last few days must have been absolute hell for him.

 Hey, Hakkai - do you hate me?

He hasn’t done that  in so long...granted, our trip West and back again didn’t give him much opportunity. The last time he’d done that, I hadn’t yet known...

The Minus Wave didn’t just make youkai go berserk. It amplified negativity, negative thoughts and traits, and not all negative emotions lead to going berserk. I became colder, sharper, less empathetic. More like Gonou. Which wound up being a blessing, actually, because it meant I was more protective of Gojyo when he needed it most. Where the Minus Wave amplified my cold anger, it was Gojyo’s self-worth issues that were strengthened. He became more withdrawn, more inclined to seek my company, and more tempted to hurt himself. Although he covers it with ego and bluster, being the child of two races weighs more heavily on him than he will ever admit to.

Those times in the past, when he would come home full of drink and despair, he was seeking validation. Reassurance that he was not the abomination folklore paints children of mixed blood as. Proof that someone thought he was worthy, despite all his flaws and despite him not wholly fitting into either of the two worlds he was born to. Something must have happened, on that first trip to or from Weilan, to make him pick at those emotional wounds.

Suddenly, I remember the dull tone of his voice and the acidic guilt on that first day as he took my inhibitors and said that he would leave me alone. I remember him mentioning me not letting him ‘invade’ my personal space. He must have spent the whole trip there and back thinking that I was rejecting him, even though he knew that I was caught in my own self-loathing. But then, when I didn’t even acknowledge him on the trip this morning...

No wonder he went drinking hard and fast enough to erase those memories.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into his hair, cool and silky strands soiled with sweat and dust.

That is jarring enough that I focus my attention on what my nose - my limited human nose - is telling me. Gojyo smells of alcohol, of course, and faintly of vomit. But he also smells of sweat, and he is wearing the same clothes he departed for Chang An in. If I weren’t already concerned for him, that would be alarming. Gojyo hates being even the slightest bit less than clean. For him to endure three days on the road and not avail himself of a shower or a change of clothes...

I need to fuss over him. I need to pamper him, spoil him, make absolutely sure there can be no doubt whatsoever that he is important to me.

Even if I can’t say it out loud, even to myself.

Even-? Yes, now that I take a moment to contemplate saying the words out loud - I love Gojyo - just the thought sends my pulse racing. Furthermore, the thought of Gojyo’s feelings is even more panic-inducing. I need time. I need to adjust to this world-shaking truth before I can begin to contemplate the implications and possibilities. But I can’t not act on it. Gojyo suffered because of me, for my sake, and even if it weren’t in my vows, I wouldn’t be able to not ease his pain. Maybe...maybe he won’t say anything. He knows how to avoid the things that will trigger panic in me, and I have to admit that this entire subject is ripe for that. But on the other hand...it’s not like our relationship has ever really been anything but intimate, emotionally and physically if not sexually.

Thinking about that comes too close to thinking about how my best friend - and, apparently, the second love of my life - may or may not feel about me. That’s not what I need right now, not what he needs, and there are better ways to spend this time.

Like planning all the ways I’m going to lavish my silent affections on him.

He’ll need a bath, first off. I can lay him in the tub and gently wash him with a cloth, lather soap into his hair and lift him up, leaning on one arm, while I pour warm water over his scalp. Then, afterwards, I can- I can’t dry him with my chi, I will have to use towels. But after that, I can put him in a pair of my pajamas and lay him in my nice, big bed, and go to sleep holding him the way he held me as he waited for me to wake up.

The only potential flaw in this plan is the memory of previous times he has been this drunk, where he woke from a dead sleep after a few hours to stumble blindly into the bathroom and empty his stomach a second time. I have no more than started to try to make plans for this than I feel him jerk in my arms, a writhing knot of dark blue-green in his chi. Hakuryuu comes to a hard stop in seconds and shifts back, leaving me on the grassy verge to the side of the road to turn Gojyo over before he starts retching. I am able to get his hair pulled back in one hand, the other arm around his chest holding him somewhat upright as I kneel behind him, before anything comes out.

The sounds he makes as he struggles to bring up the remnants of his drinking are...alarming, to say the least. Hakuryuu chirps in concern from my shoulder, and one would be forgiven for thinking there is no way Gojyo could not be conscious for this. But I know better, even if she was too young to remember the last time this happened, and I reassure her quietly as he continues to retch, bringing up bile and sounding like he is expelling one of Kougaiji’s summoned fiends instead of liquor and stomach acid.

When the heaving stops, Gojyo goes utterly limp once more and Hakuryuu tugs at my sleeve. I follow her, carrying my unconscious friend, as she leads me to a little stream. It’s not wise to try to get Gojyo to drink anything in this state, even if he were awake enough to swallow, but I can wash his face with a corner of my sash and dribble water into his mouth from my cupped hand, letting it spill out again and taking the worst of the acids with it.

I spend a moment hoping his chi is up to the task of making sure his heart continues to beat through this, and then I remember how deep his pool of chi has grown over the last few years. If it was enough to keep him alive before I learned how to metabolize alcohol, then there’s no chance it will fail him now.

Hakuryuu leads me back to the road before shifting to jeep form, and once again she waits in silent concern until I am settled with Gojyo in my arms. Then she resumes her journey, racing down the empty road with as much speed as she can, carrying us both safely home again.

***********************************************************

Being the one to hold Gojyo while he sleeps for a change, instead of being the one held, is a novel experience. I have put myself between him and the door, the same as he did with me, with one hand flat on his abdomen and the other curled around his chest.

It is a remarkably empowering position.

I was able to get some liquids into him, half a mouthful at a time, while washing the sweat and dust from his body and drying him off again. The water with crushed mint will have left his mouth tasting fresh, instead of like death, and the hydration in general will help ease a bit of the discomfort he is sure to feel when he awakens. His chi is still ashy, but there will be no help for that for a while yet. Hakuryuu is curled up in her basket in the corner, lost to exhausted slumber, and while I am accustomed to being the only one up in the hours before dawn, the events of the last few days have left my senses of day and night jumbled together. I feel as though my body is wide awake, ready to be active, while my mind would rather join the other two in sleep.

Normally, this would be when I slip into the usual nightmares as my brain attempts to settle down for the night. But with Gojyo in my arms and the scent of his hair in my nose, somehow they never come. That’s not to say that I sleep deeply or peacefully, but the shallow and fitful sleep I drift into and out of is something I haven’t really experienced since I was human.

The sun is doing its best to illuminate the room, despite being on the other side of the building from my window, when Gojyo’s chi stirs into the deep maroon that heralds his immanent awakening. Pensively, the maroon swirls through ashy magenta, and then he is suddenly, urgently, awake. A dry, mangled sound that could almost be my name catches in his throat.

“I’m here,” I murmur, arms tightening around him.

For a brief moment, he latches onto my arms as if terrified that they - or he - might be whisked away in the blink of an eye. Then he twists around to bury his face in my chest, arms encircling my torso with desperate tightness. Clinging desperately to me, he shudders in a way that I suspect is him fighting to keep from sobbing with relief and my arms tighten around him until it must be bordering on painful.

“I’m here,” I repeat softly, my heart choked with tangled emotions. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

At that, Gojyo goes utterly limp with the exception of his hands, clenched desperately on the back of my nightshirt. His chi is flooded with a deep, vulnerable blue and tinged with peach. I want to kiss his head, the way I do with Kaylin.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper into his hair. “I’m sorry, Gojyo. I know I hurt you. It was not my intention, but that doesn’t change what you feel. I wasn’t trying to shut you out. I don’t want to shut you out. But I don’t want-” My throat closes around the rest of that sentence and I struggle to order my thoughts. “My...clan form?...is abhorrent to me,” I say carefully. I have a clan. I am not a monster, even if my form is monstrous to me, and I will not slander the entirety of the Zhuhuai by slandering myself. “It reminds me of the things I did to become what I am, things I am not proud of. You are important to me-” guilt twists at that evasion, but I’m not ready to say anything more accurate. “You are important to me, Gojyo. You are the most important person in my life, and I do not want you to see what I truly am and be disgusted.”

Although he does not say anything, Gojyo’s arms pull me the slightest bit closer, as if refuting the very possibility of being disgusted.

“I’m sorry you’re suffering,” I murmur, still holding him tight. “Chesu said it was imperative I not use my chi for at least a day, or my inhibitors would not adjust properly. I would rather endure your hangover for you than let you suffer even the slightest bit - no matter how much you think you deserve it,” I finish dryly.

Gojyo snorts, and his grip loosens a bit.

“Thank you for being there for me.” The words are quiet, sincere. “I know this was almost as hard on you as it was on me. Because you care, and because you tried to comfort me but I wasn’t in a state where any of it even registered. I’m sorry. I’m not blaming myself, but I’m still sorry.”

The slight tension that had caused Gojyo to stiffen at my first apology bleeds out of him on the second. I want to stroke his hair, but I keep my hands on his back.

“I can’t erase your hangover, but I can and will pamper you today. Are you hungry? Thirsty? How can I ease your discomfort?”

“Stay,” Gojyo whispers, face still against my chest.

Overcome with emotion at what that one word implies, I practically crush him to my chest. I know from his nightmares that he yearns for affection and security. I know from our years living together, and on the road together, that he will impose his presence on me if he thinks I need the comfort. But until now, I had never let myself even suspect that he might see me as a source of the security and affection he has sought his whole life.

The logical implication gets shut down before it can even form; I am barely able to admit that I have feelings for - that I love - Gojyo. Even the slightest contemplation of his feelings would break me right now.

Right now....

Right now, the object of my affections is relaxed in my arms, vulnerable and trusting me to protect him. And I...

I would carve my way through the Dark Crow and Centipede clans again, without hesitation or mercy, if they had dared lay a hand on him.

As though he had heard the thought, Gojyo’s grip relaxes again. His chi is clouded with dark maroon and that deep blue - not only is he vulnerable and trusting, but he’s drifted back into sleep. I can’t help the faint smile that curves my lips, but I rest my chin on his head and let my eyes slide shut.

The nightmares don’t come.