The staccato raps on the front door are unexpected, but their beat is all too familiar. Only one person is able to knock like that - like he has a personal vendetta against the door, or wood in general.

Hakkai rises from the small dining table Goku fashioned for him the previous summer, and crosses his open-plan living space. When he opens the front door, the hinges groan slightly. Hakkai never oils them. He likes that they have character.

He immediately picks up a familiar scent, carried in on a faint breeze.

"Welcome, Sanzo." Hakkai smiles.

"Goku sent these," Sanzo says in his customary abrupt tone, as he thrusts a paper bag into Hakkai's hands. The bag is lumpy, containing many somethings that smell vaguely earthy and rich. "Said you were looking to grow some spring onions."

"Oh, yes. I mentioned it last time he was over. Thanks." Hakkai steps back, holding the door open wide to bid Sanzo entrance. The monk breezes past him, his robe catching slightly on Hakkai's leg. Sanzo moves swiftly and elegantly, like the first cool breath of pending winter. Hakkai always liked the wintertime, when they weren't struggling their way through blizzards on foot.

"I feel like a freaking delivery boy," Sanzo mumbles, the heels of his boots clacking over the floorboards as he strides further into the warmth of Hakkai's sitting room.

"Would you like me to get you a little cap to wear?" Hakkai closes the door against the wind. There's a decidedly nippy edge to it; it's a relatively mild December, yet he feels the chill lacing the atmosphere more than ever now, probably more than the others do.

"Fuck off," Sanzo replies, though there's no anger behind it - just a typical deep Sanzo resonance, the barest hint of mirth. Hakkai laughs, carrying the bag of bulbs to the kitchenette and placing them on one of the counters.

"Seems funny to be growing spring onions at this time of year. It's almost Christmas."

"Spring's a long way off," Sanzo says. "Though isn't it that they spring up everywhere, rather than the time of year?"

"I believe so, yes." Hakkai goes to the stove and picks up a small bag of coal from the floor beside it. He begins to add a few lumps, tempting the stove fire not to go out. "I guess I was just marvelling at how quickly the months have passed."

"Hmm." It's a semi-agreement.

Hakkai hears Sanzo move around the table, the sound of one of the chairs being pulled out. "I'll make something to drink," he says over his shoulder, setting the bag of coal back onto the floor. "Black coffee, or would you like tea?"

"Beer wouldn't go amiss."

"Ah, sorry, but Gojyo had the last of them when he stopped by last weekend."

"You mean he didn't go to the pub?"

"He went to the pub. You could say it wasn't one of his luckiest nights in the lady department. He dropped in for a nightcap on his way home."

"Huh," Sanzo huffs. "Typical. Black coffee, then."

There's a lilt to Sanzo's tone, different from before. It gets more noticeable every time Hakkai sees him. Over the years gone by, Sanzo had always had an intenseness about him, in the way he talked. But now, it's not there. Or at least, it's not so pointed. Sanzo's words come out softer and with more melody, almost like the perpetual tension has been stripped from his vocal chords and he's finally finding his true voice, not the strained curses and reprimands that littered the journey.

Hakkai likes how it sounds - Sanzo's true voice. But then, he supposes they all sound and act differently these days. He recalls it had been hell getting to this point, but it was worth it. The journey might have messed them up even more than they already were, but it taught them all a thing or two - about life, and about each other.

Hakkai places an iron kettle of water on the nearest stove hob once it's giving off ample heat. He and Sanzo do not speak - but then, they've never been inclined to needlessly fill silences, so why start now?

Once the coffee is brewed - extra strong how Sanzo prefers it - Hakkai takes the cup to the table and sets it down in front of him.

A mumbled "Thanks" is offered. Hakkai's mouth quirks of its own accord. Some things will never get old.

"How's Goku?" Hakkai asks, as he returns to the kitchenette to prepare himself a pot of oolong. Aromatic strains of bittersweet tea fill his nostrils and he gladly inhales them as Sanzo speaks in his low rumble, the two things oddly complimenting each other.

"Fine. He's been commissioned to remodel the Mayor's house. He's hand carving an entire set of table and chairs, as well as work surfaces and fuck knows what else. Che, I suppose as long as he's out of my way and doing something he's good at." Sanzo pauses to sip his coffee, then sets the cup back down with a click. "I didn't realise wood shavings could get into some of the places I've been finding them," he adds with far less leniency. "Fucking stuff."

"But at least Goku's found his craft. One that makes him happy. And doesn't involve fighting for his life," Hakkai adds as he rejoins Sanzo at the table, sliding into the seat beside him, rather than directly across. It's better this way, closer, sensing and hearing the movement of fabric over leather as Sanzo raises his cup again, the soft whoosh of his breath as he blows on the steaming liquid. "It's nice of him, making things for other people to use." Hakkai traces the artless grain of the tabletop with his fingertips, then slides his palms up the sides of his cup, cradling his oolong.

"Like I said, as long as he's out of my hair, I don't care what he does."

Hakkai hides his amusement this time. He's not fool enough to believe Sanzo's words, and he never has been. He's seen first hand the kind of state Sanzo's reduced to when Goku's life is threatened, when Goku is taken away from him. Hakkai still has scars from that particular encounter with the Seiten Taisei; pale, intricate rivulets skating his hip like silver-gilded charms.

It had been fundamentally important to bring Goku back, and not just for Sanzo's sake.

He drinks more tea, then on impulse asks, "Are you staying long?"

Sanzo is silent for some time before he answers. "I've nowhere in particular to be."

It's a good enough yes. Something in Hakkai's neck and shoulders relaxes then, a minimal tension he hadn't been aware of until now. "It's been a while," he comments, not making a big deal out of it, but compelled to say something in response.

"Two weeks."

Well, when you've lived years on the road with someone, two weeks does feel a long time, in the grand scheme of things.

Then again, there was that year… the year Hakkai prefers not to think about, if he can help it. Though sometimes just being around Sanzo's presence - and Gojyo and Goku's, for that matter - reminds him. Sometimes the simple movements of their old habits triggers him.

The year they'd all split after Gyumaoh. The year Hakkai had wandered and healed alone, before finding Xianlang and a home for himself. Before the others gradually trickled back, reforming the Ikkou in a new and utterly odd shape. As they tried to live normal lives, like normal people.

That year alone had been partly his choice, too, so he has nobody else to blame. A unanimous decision, one they'd all felt was best at the time. Gojyo had wanted to remain near Houtou with his brother, Sanzo had insisted on continuing west; Goku of course had gone with Sanzo. Hakkai… he hadn't had a clue. He'd just wanted to rest, build his vegetable garden, if nothing else.

All water under the bridge now.

"Time's flying." He finishes his tea and pushes his cup aside.

"It always was." Sanzo shifts on his seat; his knee knocks against Hakkai's under the table. "Might as well fill it with something worthwhile."

"You'll never shake that Buddhist part of you, Sanzo, no matter how much you pretend to."

"Che," the monk grumbles, his hand sliding quickly across the table's surface, dusting Hakkai's knuckles. "What would you know?"

Hakkai tilts his head a fraction in Sanzo's direction. "I don't need to see you to hear it in your tone. You're getting a bit too wise for your boots," he jokes.

"Oh, shut up. Are we going or what?" The earlier exasperation is back, and now it's graced with a layer of impatience. Before Hakkai's given the chance to answer, Sanzo's chair grates gently across the floorboards.

Hakkai senses him rise, feels the change in atmosphere as Sanzo steps away from him. He can only follow. This has been on the cards since Sanzo arrived - the unspoken, unnamed thing that exists between them.

Hakkai used to try to place it, but since then he's realised it doesn't need a name; he doesn't need to voice it and Sanzo sure as day doesn't either.

Without the heat from the stove and open fireplace, Hakkai's bedroom isn't as warm as the living area, but it's comfortable enough for them to undress. He listens for the rustle of linen, heads in the direction of the sound. Hakkai recalls a time when Sanzo preferred to do this himself, but now, as he slides his fingers up over the sharp curve of Sanzo's shoulders, the monk offers free reign.

The leather undergarment Sanzo always wears beneath his robe is hot to the touch, warmed by Sanzo's body heat seeping through the thick material. Hakkai tugs on the detached sleeves, first drawing one down the sinewy length of Sanzo's arm, before removing the other. He's well aware of the very slight, almost imperceptible change in Sanzo's breathing. He's always feels a tad smug when that happens. Always.

"What are you smirking at?" Sanzo tugs Hakkai's shirt out of the top of his trousers, starting to unbutton it from the bottom up.

"Nothing especially," Hakkai replies lightly. He's content to run his palms over the firm, flat plane of Sanzo's chest, encased in the rough leather. Further down, he reaches the point where hem meets skin, and hooks his fingers under the material, where it's even hotter, even closer. Sanzo lets out a huff, his impatience obviously growing. His stomach muscles clench under Hakkai's touch.

"Fuck this." Sanzo gives up on Hakkai's buttons and bats his hands away.

"Suit yourself," Hakkai says softly, amused. He loosens his own buttons the rest of the way while Sanzo discards the leather top, letting it fall to the floorboards with a dull slap. As Hakkai reaches out, Sanzo catches his wrist in a firm grip and both simultaneously draw together, in a sudden arousing press of flesh and erect nipples and growing hard-ons encased in denim.

Hakkai hisses in a breath. Sanzo grates out a low curse word, hot on Hakkai's mouth. Both sounds mingle in the quiet, a strange accompanying symphony to their… whatever it is. Their ritual undressing. Their unspoken want. All it had taken was a year, apart and alone, to figure out this much. That and the chance meet-up at the end of it made these moments possible.

Sanzo settles his cool palm against the side of Hakkai's neck, brushing his fingers up against the short hairs that reside at the back.

With his free hand, Sanzo has Hakkai's belt unbuckled and his jeans partway open in moments. Hakkai's cock surges upward, the pressure of it forcing his fly to part further. He basks in the release from the confines, though more than that he craves another kind of pressure to wrap around it.

"The sheets are fresh on this morning," Hakkai says, and licks his lips. His mouth is growing parched, even though he's only just had tea.

Sanzo merely grunts in response. As far as Hakkai can tell, he's never been too fussy about where, only that they both get out of it what they need. It's strange to find Sanzo so attentive in this, compared to his other pursuits - most of which the monk goes for with an almost uninterested air. He's always been good at hiding how he feels.

Most of the time.

Not now, though - it's obvious what he wants in the cant of his hips, the way he rotates them and grazes their erections together in a fluid motion. Soon, Hakkai is walking them backwards, in the direction of the bed. Sanzo makes sure they don't stumble, although out of habit Hakkai's careful not to leave things lying around on the floor. He's had a good year to map every object in his bungalow; he can traverse the rooms quite freely without his eyesight.

He never thought he'd reach a stage in his life where he wouldn't particularly miss his sight. Well, he supposes he was already used to only seeing out of one eye. He'd almost given the other eye up once before, way back, prior to the mission. During the final battle, when the youkai spear had pierced his good eye, he'd simply picked himself up and continued fighting.

Because the others wouldn't have given up. Because there was always something to fight for.

Sanzo kisses him, now, as they both climb - rather awkwardly - onto the mattress. Lying down straight and open, Hakkai gives Sanzo the opportunity to slot them into a sensational position, angling their arousals as if they were part of the same jigsaw. It certainly feels that way. Sanzo starts to rut gently, just enough to encourage Hakkai to full, wrenching hardness. The monk's tongue tastes of strong coffee and, underlying that, old tobacco from a cigarette he's smoked recently, probably just before he arrived.

Hakkai lets Sanzo lead the kiss, soaking up anything and everything Sanzo lays on him. The steady thrust of Sanzo's hips grows in pace and pressure, until he tears away and says, gruffly, "Fuck, need out of these."

As Sanzo shifts to remove his denims, Hakkai lets out a long, slow exhale. Not just at the loss of friction, but also at the fact that it's still daytime, and therefore light in the room. There's no shadow to consume them, everything will be stark and visible to Sanzo. Hakkai isn't self-conscious any more, per se, but he still imagines every pass of Sanzo's gaze, sees in his mind every inch of his body as Sanzo's eyes rake over him.

Hakkai goes to push at his jeans, but bumps into Sanzo's hands already hovering over the waistband. Sanzo rasps, "Let me," and unceremoniously yanks them half way down Hakkai's thighs. "Fuck."

Hakkai lets out a laugh. "Hang on." He lifts his lower body up, bracing his feet on the bed for a much easier slide. Sanzo gets the trousers all the way off and pauses. Again, a flush spreads through Hakkai, travelling the length of him to his cock, which twitches under the scrutiny. He can almost feel it, crawling over him hotly - being looked at, Sanzo's burning purple eyes.

There are some sights he can imagine so vividly it's like he's really seeing them.

When Sanzo returns, sliding one knee between Hakkai's thighs, he gratefully accepts the touch, pushing down so his full balls rub the skin of Sanzo's leg.

They shift naturally as they rock their hips together again and again and again, quickening exponentially as their need grows. They turn on the bed until they're side-by-side, facing each other. Sanzo's breath, hot and smoky and moist, beats a rapid tattoo against Hakkai's face.

It's quiet but for their panting, the groan of bedsprings, the chirp of birds from somewhere outside the window. Hakkai willingly surrenders to the uncoordinated currents of arousal pumping through his system, getting lost in it, lost against Sanzo's hot-hard body. His cock heaves up alongside the monk's with every thrust of his hips.

He's so taken that he doesn't realise at first, doesn't immediately notice how Sanzo's stopped moving.

Hakkai slows his movements. "What is it?" he asks softly.

The brief silence is expectant, as if Sanzo's taken a breath and is holding it before speaking. "What's it like?" he murmurs, shifting his leg from between Hakkai's thighs.

"What's what like?" Hakkai settles his hand against Sanzo's forearm, resting it there. His skin is clammy to the touch. "Oh, this? It's good. Wonderful, actually." He offers Sanzo a genuine smile. "That should really go without saying, don't you think?"

"No, I mean." It's unusual for Sanzo to falter in such a way. Soberly, Hakkai clenches his fingers around Sanzo's arm, prompting him. "Does it feel good like that?"

It slowly dawns on Hakkai what Sanzo's getting at. "Not being able to see you, you mean?" His smile slides from his face. "No, it's not better this way."

"Shit, that's not what I meant." Sanzo lets out a frustrated gust of breath. "I just can't imagine, is all."

"You want to know what I experience?" He can deal with that; the moment he says it Hakkai realises Sanzo's curiosity can be easily sated, with a little improvisation. "Then, let me show you."

He carefully pushes himself off the bed, returning to the spot on the floor where their clothes are heaped. He searches for Sanzo's leather sleeves, feeling across the floor until he locates one, before carrying it back to the bed.

Sanzo clears his throat. It's quite obvious what Hakkai has in mind, and Sanzo doesn't sound entirely comfortable about the prospect.

That does not deter Hakkai, however.

"If you care to find out," Hakkai says, kneeling next to Sanzo, holding the ends of the leather sleeves in each hand. He waits patiently, listening for Sanzo's movements. The moment the monk shifts, Hakkai knows the answer is affirmative, and before Sanzo's fully voiced the "All right" Hakkai's leaning forward, securing the material over Sanzo's eyes.

He ties it in a loose, simple knot at the back of Sanzo's head, stealing the opportunity to thread his fingers through the soft hair while he works.

Pulling back, Hakkai lets his palms trail down to Sanzo's shoulders where he rests them briefly. "Too tight? Not tight enough?"

"Fine." The tension remains in Sanzo's tone - even though he tries to hide it and sound flippant, it's still there, creeping at the edges.

Hakkai leans in, searching for Sanzo's mouth. With their combined weight, Sanzo soon relents and sinks back against the mattress, the makeshift blindfold a strange inclusion to their kiss - Hakkai feels the material against the bridge of his nose as they settle again, as he turns his face for a better angle.

He presses himself firmly against Sanzo's body, reclaiming the earlier friction. He breaks away from Sanzo's mouth, smiling roguishly as he echoes Sanzo's earlier question. "Does it feel good like that?"

"Bastard," Sanzo says, when he realises that Hakkai's teasing him.

"Come on, give me something more that that." He brushes his fingers down the pale line of Sanzo's throat, over his protruding collarbone, to his chest, flicking one finger over a peaked nipple. Sanzo makes a resonant, eager noise that is bitten-off at the end.

"It's fucking weird. I don't know what to expect."

"Mm," Hakkai agrees, lightly twisting the hard nipple between his fingers. "There has to be a high level of trust."

Sanzo is very quiet and very still for some time. Hakkai's certain Sanzo's absorbing the implications of the pointed statement. He releases the nipple and rotates his hips as punctuation.

It is then that Sanzo seems to snap into action - arching up all of a sudden, meeting him with unyielding intent, pulling an unsuspecting gasp from Hakkai's lungs.

"Sanzo-" he half-groans, half-gasps, but he hasn't the chance to say any more. Sanzo curves a hand around his neck and draws him down into a brutal, open-mouthed kiss, working his tongue at Hakkai's teeth, dragging his canines across Hakkai's lower lip.

It's getting exceedingly hot; they're wet with each other's sweat, smoothing the push-pull of their erections as their rhythm steps up a pace. Hakkai has been guiding himself with touch and sound and sensation for over two years now. Sanzo's been living with it for a few short minutes.

All in all, he's not doing too badly, Hakkai has to admit.

Slipping his hand from around Hakkai's neck, Sanzo trails it all the way down the bow of his spine, to settle at the rise of his arse. He urges Hakkai down with an uncompromising grip, powerful arms compelling him that bit further. Hakkai bucks against him, quite happy to go along with Sanzo's urgency.

The desire rises fierce in Hakkai, tsunami-strong; he chokes out a groan into Sanzo's mouth, then lets the kiss go, too distracted by everything else. He settles his face against Sanzo's neck, inhales.

A torrent of swear words beat out into his ear, breathy and gravelly and insanely arousing, given that Hakkai usually can't stand coarse language. Here, though, with Sanzo's amazing sonorous tone, they're the only noises he can imagine are appropriate for the moment.

Teeth latch lightly onto his earlobe, then move up, catching on his lowest limiter. Sanzo flicks his tongue out, tracing the ruche of the enchanted metal, licking the heated curve until it's slick and hot. He's moaning, deep rumbling sounds Hakkai can both feel against his chest, and hear above all else - louder than the whine of the springs beneath them, his ragged breath, his hammering pulse.

His cock's so full, balls pulled up so taut, his mind blown from the feel of Sanzo's hard, masculine body beneath him, urging him closer to release, that he barely feels it when one limiter - the middle one - slips off between the tug of Sanzo's teeth.

Hakkai is momentarily wrenched from the edge, as he's simultaneously struck by a surge of power and an almost equally fierce surge of raw panic.

"W-wait," he chokes, trying to sit up. Now that it's present, the youkai wants to lick at the salty-slick skin of Sanzo's neck, wants to latch onto it and bite down and make Sanzo moan; it, too, is caught up in the sex, thriving on the basest, most carnal need. Hakkai pushes the urge aside. "Sanzo, hang on - one of my limiters-"

One of Sanzo's hands leaves his arse, reaches up - Hakkai is certain he's plucking the limiter from his mouth. The next thing he's aware of is Sanzo's voice, resolute even though it's breathless from their exertion. "Weren't you the one prattling on about trust just a few moments ago?"

Hakkai can barely breathe as he takes in and digests the meaning behind Sanzo's words. The youkai curls insistently beneath his skin, nowhere near as intense as when he's at full release, but it's strong nevertheless.

"If you stop now, Hakkai, I will fucking shoot you, vision or no vision."

A growl wells in Hakkai's throat. It's not entirely his own, but at the same time it is. He starts to move his hips again. "You have no idea, the danger…"

"So if you try anything stupid, I'll punch your lights out. How's that?"

"Sanzo." Hakkai's still dubious.

"For fuck's sake, just fucking do it. Make us come. I'm blind for you - do this for me."

The words are uttered rough like a rain of curses into his ear, and Hakkai almost comes right then as he realises that Sanzo hasn't just allowed the blindfold to answer a question, but also to show Hakkai that he wants to understand what it's like from Hakkai's point of view. "Oh, oh Heavens."

He heaves himself forward, implementing his newly released power, pushing Sanzo a fair way further up the bed with one thrust alone. The monk curves a sweaty leg around him, squeezes with his muscled thigh. Their cocks grind and grow damp and twitch, and it bends Hakkai's perception beyond just want. He aches with a violent intensity until he can barely breathe any more.

The youkai lurking inside knows what it needs. It needs Sanzo's flesh, has to hear him make some noise. Hakkai trails his teeth over the tight skin of Sanzo's throat, rising up over his Adam's apple, down the column of his neck, catching on his collar.

Sanzo obliges him with a guttural, indecipherable encouragement and releases a spurt of pre-come, slicking Hakkai's abdomen and the head of his own rigid cock. He immediately picks up the heady scent of Sanzo's come, wants it, wants it on him, wants to take it all from the monk because lord he's never been this hard, this aroused, to the point where he feels wasted, high, drunk like when he was human and allowed himself a tipple.

He drives Sanzo down against the mattress now, moving in long, hard circles, taking, giving - Hakkai's not sure what he wants most any more.

"Fuck, there-" Sanzo grates, body pumping up hard against Hakkai and stilling suddenly. "There."

Quick bursts of come streak their skin, mixing with the sweat, intensifying the incredible smells permeating the air all around. It's enough to drive Hakkai crazy - the way it fills his senses like an intoxicating drug. He loses control of his resolve and bites down against Sanzo's shoulder. The monk rolls through his orgasm, too distracted to care, though he groans a filthy sound, a noise that Hakkai will not forget - nor will the youkai within him.

The pressure relief as he careens into release tears the breath out of his lungs. He's only aware of the thrum of Sanzo's body beneath him, the fit of their hipbones, the jerk of his cock, the rearing presence of the youkai as it savours the climax, and the incoherence of his own voice.

He rides it out, the spin and lurch of his universe, the need easing as he's satisfied, as all the tension is milked out of his cock and smears Sanzo's trembling body beneath him.

Then he sighs deeply, and attempts to pull everything back into place.

It takes a few long moments before Hakkai's able to stop shaking, before the room stops spinning.

He focuses on breathing, waking from the haze. He's still panting when he manages to raise his head. "Sanzo," he says roughly, "please put it back now."

He feels Sanzo reach up to remove the blindfold. Then the monk's fingers are at his ear, slipping cool metal against the ridge, clipping the limiter cuff back into its rightful place.

Only then does Hakkai let himself go limp. He finds his body sliding a little in their combined sweat and come, difficult to obtain purchase.

The youkai scrabbles to stay close to the surface, indignant that it only got to play for a little while. Its hold diminishes rapidly, until it's just an echoing presence, as the third limiter reacts with its brothers.

Sanzo turns them both over, settling them once again side-by-side and facing each other on the now-damp sheets. He doesn't speak, but then, he rarely does right away afterwards.

"Did that answer your question?" Hakkai finally asks.

"Yeah," Sanzo replies. "That and a few others."

"Huh. If I were you, I'd call you a bastard about now."

He feels Sanzo puff out a quick, silent laugh against his face. "Yeah, well."

"After that limiter business," Hakkai goes on, deciding to use the ammunition while it's there. If anything, he's resourceful. "I'd say you owe me a few answers of your own."

"Oh?" Sanzo sounds sceptical. He probably isn't expecting what Hakkai's about to say.

"When you and Goku found me last year, you said you were searching for the other sutra. That was what lead you here to Xianlang."

Sanzo pauses before he answers. "… yeah."

"The thing is, Sanzo, that explanation's never worked for me. We never found the remaining sutra at Houtou Castle, which means it was never taken from its protector."

Sanzo clears his throat. It's not an entirely comfortable sound.

"I know for a fact the sutra isn't here. The moment you walked into town, I'm certain you could sense it as well - you knew, and yet you stayed." Hakkai pauses. "I also know for a fact you wouldn't take up a pointless mission and travel such a long distance, least of all dragging Goku with you."

"Hakkai, leave it."

"No, no. I might be blind, but that doesn't mean I can't see through you."

"This is bullshit."

"Maybe. But it's 'bullshit' I'd actually like to hear, if it's all the same to you." Hakkai brushes damp hair from his forehead, sighing. "Sanzo, why did you come here in the first place? To this town, in this part of China?"

The silence stretches, almost painfully. Hakkai wonders if he's pushed too much, whether Sanzo's about to get up, get dressed, and leave. Hakkai wouldn't put it past him - Sanzo doesn't like being backed into a corner, no more than Hakkai does.

Sanzo is utterly still, and when he speaks it's quiet, resigned. "Because the kappa said this is where you were."

Hakkai lets out the breath he's been holding, but he can't find voice enough to say or ask anything else, even though there are questions still burning in his mind.

It's enough for him. For now.

He cracks a helpless smile, sticky and too hot and covered in their sex and yet, he wouldn't change a thing. Except for maybe - actually no, he would definitely opt to see Sanzo's expression, even if only for an instant.

Ah well, the past cannot be changed. Hakkai knows this all too well.

The present isn't feeling too bad, anyway, so it doesn't really matter whether he can see it or not.

"What're you smirking at?" Sanzo mumbles.

"Nothing especially," Hakkai replies, and is surprised as the monk slides a hand around his waist and lets it settle there, making it clear he has no intention of leaving just yet.

Then Hakkai thinks maybe it is something special after all.

~Fin~