Same shit, different day (Saiyuki)
Jun. 25th, 2008 09:46 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
macavitykitsune.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
kinkfestAuthor: macavitykitsune
Pairings: Implied 58?
Rating: G. Maybe PG for swearing.
Summary: Things never change.
Prompt: June 24th - Saiyuki, Gojyo: Time travel - Gojyo ends up in either the 20th or the 21st century and must make a place for himself
The oddest thing about life is how little it changes.
People are stupid, cities are noisy, free drinks make everyone your best friend for two hours, and the fluttery giggly women who hang around picking up the winners at the card games press their breasts against your back and breathe in your ear.
This was probably the most idiotic thing, Gojyo thought. If he had to end up sucked into some weird-ass spell and wind up in a different time period altogether, it could at least have had the decency to send him somewhere interesting. This… this was just Togenkyou without the pointy ears.
Ace and a seven. ‘Hit me,’ he said to the dealer. Blackjack wasn’t his favourite game, it was more a Hakkai thing, but he could play and play well.
He turned the next card over. A two. Perfect. That took care of his shitty hotel room, his food for the next few days, the bit of money he needed to move on to the next town. Living was easy again, far too easy.
Funny, how he’s grown to dislike easy.
He finished up in a few minutes, headed outside. It was pouring with rain, warm and heavy summer showers. He leaned his face up into it, relishing the feel of water on his skin. Goku would have liked to stand like this with him – when he wasn’t around Sanzo, the monkey loved playing in the rain.
There was no going back, he knew. No more Togenkyou, no more half-breed cracks. No more stinking monk, idiot monkey, dragonlet or overprotective mother figure. He was stuck here, in this boring back of beyond with its overbearing laws and its reek of smoke, people, perfume and cynicism.
He made his way to a bus stop and shelter, sat down on the bench and shook out his dripping windcheater. There was a magazine on the other end of the bench, and he flipped through it idly; saw a small review of yet another version of Saiyuki and giggled. A woman playing Sanzo, and the monkey blond as hell. Goku would have found that immensely funny, Sanzo wouldn’t have seen the humour in it at all. Sanzo was gonna throw a hissy fit wh–
Right. Shit.
He’d been drifting for the last six months now, never spending more than a few days anywhere. Two weeks was too long, he’s discovered. That long, and people started wondering why he never took off his novelty contacts, or asking him why he dyed his hair that shade, or how he moved so fast when someone startled him, or why he spent so much time reading old Chinese epics and chuckling over them, even the parts that weren’t meant to be funny.
Mostly, though, he was heading in something of a straight line to a place he’d never been to before, just as he always had.
The next town was just the same. Bright lights, chain stores, freaky language that he could read, speak, write and understand anyway. He shook his head. The more he thought about that, the more creeped out he got.
He went to a food court the second day for lunch, got himself a large sandwich. The fries had seemed far more interesting, but the ghost of Hakkai peering over his shoulder Disapproved of snacks as a staple diet. Living was easy.
He was hating every single minute of it.
He strolled down a street (like all the others), spilled a bit of his sandwich when he stumbled over a loose stone in the pavement, sprawled in a mess of limbs, bread and cheese on the road. ‘Shit!’ he said, decided he liked the sound and said it again three more times. Curled up into a ball, rubbing his wounded shin, felt entirely pathetic.
It was actually good to lie on the ground like this, like a kicked dog, in a warm comforting puddle of self-pity. He was just wondering whether he should find another swearword when a warm, amused voice interrupted his thoughts.
‘You look terribly comfortable lying there.’
Gojyo looked up into pretty green eyes, and he was certain his breath had stopped dead.
The man was watching him, puzzled. A little more concerned now that Gojyo probably looked like he’d been hit by a truck. ‘Are you all right?’
The hair, the eyes. The glasses. The inflection. It was him.
The grin that rose inside him probably looked a little manic on his face, but Gojyo couldn’t care – he felt incredibly, uncontrollably happy.
‘Sure,’ he said, and the other man smiled back.
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Date: 2008-06-25 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-26 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-25 05:06 pm (UTC)This is painful. Poor poor Gojyo. I hope he finds happiness here with 'not-Hakkai'
Beautifully written as always.
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Date: 2008-06-26 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-25 05:16 pm (UTC)This was wonderfully written
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Date: 2008-06-26 12:27 pm (UTC)And by the way, a very tasty icon. Gojyo always gives me the shivers (in an ohsodelicious way) when he looks like that. ^_^ May I steal it?
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Date: 2008-06-26 02:27 pm (UTC)And thank you! I love this icon too, but I can take no credit for it except being smart enough to swipe it from
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Date: 2008-06-28 12:37 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-06-25 08:29 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-06-28 12:38 pm (UTC)