Blame It On the Weather
. . . fanfiction inspired by Gensomaden Saiyuki. Standard disclaimers apply.

warning: just some late-night AWP (angst without plot)

 

    Sanzo hated the rain.

    Don't let yourself be deceived by the false sense of calm. Don't be mistaken that the monotonous patter soothes the weary traveler's soul. Don't think that it makes it any easier to sleep, with the roof tiles and gutters resounding sharply with each droplet, going ping!ping!ping!ping! repeatedly and setting your teeth on edge, enough to drive anyone who listens hard enough insane.

    Shifting in his seat, he peered out into the gloom and scowled.

    Gojyo strolled in, shirtless, smelling like the steam from the bath, toweling his hair. He glanced over at the window where Sano was sulking. "What? You mean it hasn't let up?"

    "At this rate, we're going to be suck here for at least another day," Sanzo muttered. "That will ruin the schedule and put us behind time."

    "You're in good mood," he commented dryly. "But that's hardly a surprise." He tossed the towel onto the nearest chair. "Monkey boy's asleep in the other room. Hakkai's downstairs drinking. Are you coming?"

    "I'm staying here to smoke." He reached for his cigarettes and lighter. "Get lost."

    "Tch. Fine." Gojyo pulled on a shirt. "Avoid the issue. You're just wonderful at that."

    Sanzo whirled around with a snarl and a readied curse.

    Gojyo had already left.

-----------------

    Sweet wine burned its way down his throat, cold yet oddly warming at the same time. Distantly, Hakkai was aware of one of the waitresses setting another full flask on the table and slipping away politely. He nodded his thanks and poured himself another cup.

    They were not the only people caught in the downpour. The dining room of the inn was more crowded than usual. Dinner patrons picked at the last of their food, lingered over cups of tea, and more than one rowdy group had gathered, laughing and toasting and sloshing beer everywhere.

    Rain, slick and wet and clinging. Try to shake it off and more beads on your skin. Water is deceivingly harmless. It beckons the unknowing into its depths, fills your lungs and carries you away on its current. Such a treacherous element.

    Sake dimmed his senses, filtered out the noise. But the incessant drumming of the rain still carried over the busy tables. It never seemed to stop.

-----------------

    Sanzo took a long drag and exhaled, breath and smoke fogging the window panes. Under the leather of his vest, his skin itched with dampness. Rubbing would only irritate it more. He continued smoking.

    You think the rain purifies. You think water alone is enough to wash away the blood on your hands, on your face. Dislodge the traces from the ridges of your skin and underneath your nails.

    Rain only cleans you superficially. Whether it washes away the memories of the stains remains to be seen.

-----------------

    "How much have you been drinking, Hakkai?"

    "Eh?" Hakkai blinked blearily at Gojyo. "Ah... I think I lost count."

    "I won't stop you if you want to get drunk. But kindly remember I'm the one who's going to have to haul your stoned ass back upstairs later." He gestured with his cigarette.

    To his blurred vision, the glowing end of it looked like a dancing firefly. Perhaps a will-o-the-wisp. He smiled absently at the thought. "I appreciate it."

    "Yare, yare, do me a favour and just don't throw up on me, okay?"

    Hakkai nodded and tossed back another cup.

    Gojyo looked out of the window and tried not to think.

    How it must have felt lying there, feeling yourself sinking deeper into the damp ground, with your chest ripped wide open, unable to move, unable to call out. Painfully aware of each droplet collecting on you, powerless to do anything. Thinking you were better off dead, you wanted it to end there and then, and the rain just kept pouring and no one would come and deliver the mercy killing you wished for.

    He closed his eyes as he heard Hakkai set down another empty flask.

-----------------

    Goku twisted the sheets. He couldn't sleep. It was cold. So very cold.

    He could see the light under the doorway of the connected rooms. Sanzo wasn't asleep either. The air was positively saturated with cigarette smoke. It didn't seem like a good time to bother him.

    His stomach grumbled. The last time he saw Hakkai, he was occupied with his sake. Gojyo was... who knew what Gojyo was doing? He wasn't in the mood to pick a fight with the pervert.

    He rolled over onto his side. Outside, a full moon swallowed the piece of sky framed by his window, casting fuzzy light distorted by the curtain of rain.

    He shivered and pulled the blankets higher to his chin.

    It was going to be a long night.