The breakfast table was richly decked with traditional Tougenkyo table-ware. The meal was equally rich and traditional. Fruits piled up in a basket, tea and coffee steamed in thick mugs, and the waitress was busy carrying more food into the room. The air was filled with muted conversation as the SMP took their fill before they would supervise the slaves pack up camp. It was only day three of their trip, and they took advantage of the amenities of a more densely populated area before the desert would deny them such luxuries.

Kougaiji took a seat at one of the table, where Dokugakuji already had made himself comfortable. “Morning.”

“Good morning, Kou. Coffee?”

His right-hand man filled a mug and handed it to him. Dokugakuji was in an exceptionally good mood, which surprised the prince. “Thanks.”

Kougaiji watched how Dokugakuji enthusiastically took a second helping of cereal. Taking a careful sip from his mug of hot coffee, the demon lord’s thoughts drifted off to his bodyguard and the new love slave. This morning was different from all the other ones following a night that had Dokugakuji involved with red-heads. Something had changed - there was a strange glistening in Dokugaku's brown eyes, he oozed quiet happiness through every pore. Whoever this new slave was, Kougaiji burned to find out what secret he hid to cause such a reaction in the commonly so serene sword master.

“Earth to Kou!”

“Huh?” He looked up to find the object of his musings smiling at him. “Sorry, I didn't pay attention.”

“Really? I wouldn't have guessed. ”Dokugakuji laughed. “The SMP night shift reported nothing out of the ordinary. We can leave as planned.”

“Good,” Kougaiji helped himself to some egg rolls, contemplating the situation. Dokugakuji had shown up in Houtou Castle more than six years ago, and Kougaiji had accepted the service of the secretive man based on gut instinct.

He had never rued his decision, and the two of them had faced more dangerous situations than he liked to remember. Meanwhile, he considered the dark haired demon a friend rather than a servant.

Still, there was a dark secret that lurked in Dokugakuji's past, and that the sword master didn't want to talk about. He seemed restless at times, as if he was searching for something, or someone. Though Kougaiji hoped that Dokugakuji would trust him enough to share this secret one day, he had never investigated his bodyguard's past.

Then he had learned about the red-head slaves that found their way into the sword fighter's room. Of course, he had confronted Dokugakuji about the rumors when word traveled through the grapevine that said red-heads vanished without a trace. The kappa demon had never denied their disappearance. 'They... serve a purpose. Just trust me on this,' was Dokugakuji's answer.

However, even though Kougaiji wanted nothing more than to fully trust his right-hand man, Nii's constant nagging about Dokugakuji's habits began to grow roots.

“I'm going to inspect my new slaves before we leave.” On Dokugakuji's surprised expression, the prince added, “I don't trust Konchen. The blond one he sent over is a wreck, and I have a bad feeling about the half-breed. He's trouble.”

“Gojyo? He's not going to cause any problems.” Dokugakuji’s smile returned. “I personally instructed him yesterday about what happens if he acts up.”

Kougaiji shot him a contemplating glance. “Well, I'm going to make sure he knows.”

x

“-yo? Gojyo, wake up.”

Someone had obviously no common sense to yell like this in the middle of the night. Pain drummed through his head. A foul taste filled his mouth, and his parched lips hurt.

“C'mon, Gojyo. I know that you can hear me,” the voice – courtesy of Hakkai, his ailing brain supplied - said, but he decided to ignore it. His body informed him in no uncertain terms, that whatever made Hakkai want to raise a ruckus could wait.

“Get up, ” Hakkai insisted.

“Ugn,” Gojyo croaked, and wrapped himself tighter into his blanket. “Don't wanna...”

There was a long sigh. “The SMP will clear camp in ten minutes.”

“Clear camp?” It took a few moments for the full meaning to register. Gojyo's eyes flew open, and he bolted up to a sitting position. “Clear camp!”

“Ugh!” Sharp pain cut through his head and his stomach lurched, then he all he could focus on was the bucket in his hands while his body purged itself from the remaining alcohol. Tears streamed down his face, and he was soaked in sweat, reduced to dry heave between desperate gasps for air.

“Will he be okay, Hakkai?” Goku's voice sounded concerned. “I mean, he's pretty sick.”

“I'm fine,” Gojyo choked out. “Just a little... hangover.”

“Yes, of course,” Hakkai handed him a bottle of water, and Gojyo took a few careful sips. “Though it appears to me that your hangover is the least of your problems.”

“Problems?” Gojyo frowned and handed the bucket to Sanzo. Of course, they had wanted him for services, but... problems? He recalled the inn, kneeling in front of Dokugakuji, who was – Jien! And then, Jien, his very own brother, had... “Oh, shit!”

He threw up, and this time it was Sanzo who held the bucket in place to prevent the worst. When his stomach had calmed again, Gojyo sighed. He shot a side glance at the blond, who looked about as sick as Gojyo felt. “This so sucks.”

“Goku and I have to help with loading the trucks, but Sanzo will stay with you,” Hakkai said. “Will you be okay?”

“I'll survive,” Gojyo reassured his friend and suppressed a groan. He was sure that Hakkai waited for an explanation about the injuries, but this was something he couldn't share with anyone. Especially not with Hakkai. 'Damn, what now? I'm royally screwed!'

x

The early morning sun cast the camping ground into harsh light. Night frost lingered in long tree shadows, and in the crisp air, every breath expanded into a cloud of white vapor.

Hakkai quietly wrapped tarps around the tents and camping utensils to protect the material from dirt and weather alike. Next to him, Goku did his best to fasten the thin ropes tightly that kept the bundles from getting lose. The teenager hardly had said a word all morning, but Hakkai could tell from the frequent, surreptitious glances Goku shot him that the events of the last twenty-four hours had deeply unsettled the young man.

“I'm fine, Goku.” Hakkai's smile turned into a pained grimace when the PunTag made his already sore muscles cramp. “And Gojyo will be okay, too.”

Goku frowned, then whispered, “It will happen again, won't it?”

“Something like last night?”

When Goku nodded briefly, the sun reflected in his unruly, brown hair, giving it a warm earthen tone.

“He is a love slave,” Hakkai stated matter-of-fact. There was no reason to gloss over the truth when there was a very realistic chance that Gojyo would suffer more damage than just cuts, bruises and a hangover. “They'll come for him whenever they like.”

Both fell silent when an SMP strolled by. Hakkai's eyes widened. He identified the man as Liang, one of the two who had dropped off Gojyo earlier. A soft growl from Goku told Hakkai that the teen had recognized the guard, too.

Only when the SMP was out of earshot, Goku spat, “I'll make them stop... somehow.”

Stiffly, the young demon hopped from the truck, his golden eyes flashing with anger.

Hakkai didn't reply. What could he say or do, anyway? File a complaint with Kougaiji? Hakkai had no illusions about the consequences of such an action. Their master wasn't known for being merciful towards insolent slaves, and Gojyo's function code left no doubt that all requests had to be fulfilled by him. Kill Dokugakuji, and remove the source of the threat, wasn't an option, either. 'I’d be dead as well because of the PunTag.'

Not that he minded being dead. Death would be a mercy, where the gruesome memories were a thing of the past. The unspeakable guilt that welled up whenever he didn’t occupy his mind with other things could not reach him in hell. Death would reunite him with Kanan, and maybe she would forgive him for his failings. ‘But not yet. I can’t die until I fulfill my promise and Gojyo’s free again.’

However, Gojyo’s freedom was nothing but a faint dream, and so Hakkai’s living nightmare continued. He tried to be useful, make their enslaved existence a little bit less unbearable for Gojyo. Hakkai’s healing powers kept Gojyo’s physical damages to a minimum. As for the damage to his friend’s heart and mind, there was nothing he could do but be a friend. Hakkai briefly wondered if he would ever find a method to erase the painful reality from Gojyo’s memories. Maybe one day, he could return Gojyo to the happy life he deserved.

“Hakkai, you’re coming?”

Goku’s concerned voice unceremoniously ended the medic slave’s dark musings. Hakkai gave the tarps a final controlling look, then followed Goku back to the tents.

x

Gojyo knew he was in serious trouble. Between throwing up and trying to stop the mad spin of the room, ten minutes had passed, not to mention that getting dressed threatened to become an obstacle in itself. He wrestled with his pants – which were freshly washed and mended, like the rest of his clothes - but his aim was off and his misstep landed him flat on his butt. Precious minutes ticked away while Gojyo tried to regain his balance.

Sanzo’s face twisted into something remotely resembling a grin.

Gojyo’s foggy, groggy mind registered the mocking. His reaction was prompt and aggressive. “Bastard! You think this is funny?”

The ex-nobleman blinked, his expression blank, as if the display of emotions had been a figment of Gojyo's drugged mind.

“Idiot,” Gojyo growled and began to struggle with his clothes once more.

x

Cold bit into Kougaiji’s skin when he climbed out of his car, and he could feel goose bumps forming on his uncovered arms. ‘It’s not even October. I hope that doesn’t mean we’ll get more snow than usual in the mountains,’ he thought wryly as he walked through the bustling camp, accompanied by Dokugakuji and a small escort of SMP. ‘If we run into blizzard weather, it can very well delay us for a month or two.’

However, the mountains were still several weeks worth of driving to the west, and Kougaiji had more pressing issues to worry about than the goose bumps on his arms. The quartet that Konchen had sent would be surprised about receiving their master’s undivided attention, but with Dokugakuji’s preference for that Gojyo-character, Kougaiji was not willing to take unnecessary risks that could easily be avoided.

There was no say with what mission the slaves were sent. If Dokugakuji fell under the love slave’s influence, it would mean danger for everyone. ‘I hope I’m wrong,’ the prince mused, ignoring the slaves and SMP that bowed before him. ‘But half-breeds always seem to create extra problems on the treks.’

The slaves Kougaiji could handle. Send them back, torture them, sell them, or just kill them; there were many options to deal with living property. However, Dokugakuji was no slave. A free man, he could leave Kougaiji’s service whenever he wished, even though Dokugakuji’s loyalties for his lord ran deep.

Maybe the bodyguard’s kind of devotion was the reason why Kougaiji preferred those who followed him by choice over those who had no other choice but to follow. Consequently, his slaves were few compared to the thousands his father owned; and the ones in Kougaiji’s possession were mostly presents from suck-up ambassadors and industrial tycoons. ‘Or people like Konchen.’

Unfortunately, that didn’t relief Kougaiji from the responsibilities that came with being the son of the most powerful Demon King of the continent.

‘Responsibilities, my ass.' Kougaiji growled softly. ‘As if this has anything to do with helping Father to rule his lands, or learn the trade.’

“Lord Kougaiji, Dokugakuji-sama,” Sung Li, the SMP camp manager greeted them, a broad, too friendly smile plastered on his face. “How can I help you?”

“Gojyo… where is he?” Dokugakuji queried.

“Gojyo,” the camp manager consulted the list on his clipboard. “Gojyo… He’s part of Lord Kougaiji’s personal badge of slaves, yes? Tall, red hair?”

“Yes, that’s him,” the sword master nodded.

“Tent seven, middle row.”

“Thanks,” Dokugakuji smiled.

They walked through the central path that connected the five tent rows. At the other side of the camp site, Kougaiji saw how some of the slaves were busy taking down the large tents, while others loaded the packed materials into the transport trucks.

He preferred unannounced inspections that gave no one a chance to gloss over problems. This wasn’t an inspection, though, at least not in the usual sense. This was personal.

One of the SMPs shot them a nervous glance, and Kougaiji’s eyes narrowed. ‘Something’s not quite right here.’

x

There was a sudden shift in the attention of the SMPs, and Goku instinctively knew that something strange was going on. He could hear the SMP whisper about 'Lord Kougaiji', and an inspection.

“You think he’s here because of Gojyo?” Goku whispered to Hakkai.

The older slave nodded. “It's possible.”

Hakkai didn't show any signs of fear or worry, but Goku knew that their master's arrival bothered him.

Their fellow slaves hurried more equipment to the trucks. Goku could tell that they were scared, as if they expected severe punishment should they not do their tasks as fast as possible. ‘Well, maybe that’s just what will happen if they don’t do their thing.’

By the time they reached their mobile shelter, Goku knew that his intuition had not lied. The crowd of SMP that flocked around the important visitor cut off Hakkai and Goku from their friends inside the tent.

“Dokugakuji’s here, too.” Goku could clearly make out the sword master’s voice. ‘Stupid ape. Of course, he’s here. After all, he’s Kougaiji’s bodyguard.’

“I need to get to Gojyo,” Hakkai said, his voice sounding strained. “In his condition, there’s no say what he’ll do.”

Goku wordlessly plowed his way through the wall of protectors that shielded off the demon lord.

x

“You're drunk,” Kougaiji observed icily.

“Only hung-over,” Gojyo objected with the air of insolence, then added quickly: “Master.”

“Remember your place,” Dokugakuji warned sharply.

Hakkai didn’t like the development of the situation the least. ‘And of course, trouble has already found Gojyo.’ Hakkai cursed under his breath and shoved himself into a position where he could see through the wide open entrance flaps inside their tent.

“Forgive your humble slave, master,” Gojyo's smile would've sold goods in any commercial. “It seems that I forgot that lower life forms like me are forbidden to consume alcohol or other drugs that lead to impairment or reduction of service ability.”

The solid smack of a slap to the face sounded through the tent. “Insolent insect! Give me your smart aleck attitude again and you’re dead.”

Dokugakuji laughed. “At least, he knows the rules.”

“All I see is that he knows how to break the rules.” The demon lord sighed. Then he obviously noticed the bruises all over Gojyo's body. “You got into a fight?”

Gojyo flinched. “Just an unfortunate accident, master.”

The prince frowned. “Accident?”

“Yes, master, an accident. You must know that drunk bastard mongrels like me are prone to mishaps.” Slight amusement vibrated in Gojyo's voice. “I stumbled and fell, master.”

“Doku.”

It was just an angered, clipped command, but the tall man seemingly understood the meaning at once. Hakkai struggled with the SMP guarding the entrance, and caught a glimpse of how Dokugakuji kneeled next to Gojyo and whispered something into his ear. From his position, Hakkai couldn't see the sword master's face, but the grip that clenched Gojyo's right shoulder was unmistakable aggressive. Gojyo's eyes closed briefly, he murmured a reply and Dokugakuji got up abruptly.

“Any time, Dokugakuji-sama,” Gojyo laughed through clenched teeth.

The obvious distress tipped the scale, and Hakkai reacted without thinking. “Take your filthy hands off him!”

He flung himself through the open flaps, somehow managed to evade being captured. By the time the SMP and Hakkai's PunTag sprung to action, he already had Dokugakuji pinned to the ground. But before he could smack his fist into the sword master's face, Goku intervened. His fingers dug deep into Hakkai's arms, keeping him locked in mid-motion with a strength Hakkai had never expected from the young slave.

“Don't,” the kid said, worry flashing in his serious, golden eyes – then the world spiraled out of focus as the PunTag kicked in.

It seemed like a lifetime until he was able to think, much less move, again. Not that he could move even if he persuaded his cramped muscles to obey; two pairs of hands and knees pressed him face forward into the dirt. Despite the pounding in his head, Hakkai pried his eyes open. He could see Goku, the teen's slender body blocking Sanzo from any possible attacks. To the left, Kougaiji quietly discussed with Dokugakuji.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” Gojyo muttered over and over again, kneeling in front of his master, shoulders slumped and head bowed.

'Good grief.' Hakkai wasn't sure what was going on in his friend's mind, but whatever had happened last night had caused an undeniable change in Gojyo's behavior. 'Why are you protecting Dokugakuji?'

“Let the medic slave go.”

Kougaiji's order interrupted Hakkai's frantic musings.

“But, Sir! He attacked Dokugakuji-sama,” one of the guards protested.

“Are you suggesting I would've lost to a slave with a PunTag?” Dokugakuji wanted to know with a too friendly smile on his face.

“O-of course not, Sir, but...”

“Let him go and leave us alone,” Kougaiji snapped, and the SMPs followed the order, bowed quickly and closed the entrance flaps behind them.

When they were alone, the demon lord turned his attention back to Gojyo. Hakkai tried to get up again, but his body refused to work and he was decimated to lay in the dirt and watch.

“I warned you before,” Kougaiji's air of superiority was intimidating. “I don't like troublemakers... and you have the stink of a troublemaker... So, who hit you?”

The threat was there, and only a fool wouldn't take the last chance offered. 'Don't anger him any further, Gojyo. Don't...'

“No one.” Gojyo showed no outward emotion. “I fell, master.”

Hakkai noticed the surprised look that Dokugakuji shot Gojyo, but Kougaiji's next words made his blood freeze.

“I have no more need for your service, slave.”

Goku's sharp gasp registered in Hakkai's subconsciousness, and he groaned inwardly, knowing perfectly well what would happen. 'Gojyo, you idiot!'

“Doku, send him back to Konchen.”

“K-Konchen!” Gojyo's hands clenched to fists, and his eyes grew wide as saucers. A shiver ran through him, his face paled until the thin lines of his scars stood out like bloody trails. Then his shoulders slumped and his head bowed, his long, red hair falling down like a curtain, hiding the horror in his eyes. “Please… no...”

'Back to Konchen.' There was no say what the Casino owner would do when he learned that Gojyo had disgruntled his cherished customer Lord Kougaiji. ‘Who will protect you now?’ Hakkai jerked himself up to his elbows, but his arms wouldn't sustain his weight and he landed flat on his face once more. 'Why are you doing this to yourself, Gojyo?’

x

The slave stood in the back of the tent, watching through half-lidded eyes how his new master tried to get some answers out of a stubborn, foolish half-breed.

His new master had labeled him Genjo Sanzo, but the slave knew that he had wavered away any right to bear the name or the title that once belonged to him. If anything, the label was a constant reminder of his weakness, a reciting of the 'should have' and 'could haves' of a botched up life. A pang of regret washed over him. Maybe there was something he could do to help Gojyo.

'Idiot kappa.'

The slave suppressed a sigh. There had been a time when Kougaiji's actions would've been rewarded by a bullet between the eyes, courtesy of Sanzo's Smith & Wesson. In the present, however, the slave didn't dare to move without being ordered to do so.

'Keep a low profile and obey.'

Of course, the stubborn remains of the kappa's pride would not allow him to such a thing.

'Does he try to protect Hakkai? What did he promise to Dokugakuji?'

The part of Sanzo's mind that was entirely too attached to the world outside of simple orders had no illusions as to what the result of such a blatant disregard of their master's wishes would be. It also vehemently insisted on telling Kougaiji to shut his gap and take a hike or-

“Doku, send him back to Konchen.”

Fortunately, the part of him that was in control had no such ambitions. The slave tensed.

'Konchen...'

The name alone made his stomach clench.

'Konchen will... I should...'

No. It didn't matter what the man named Genjo Sanzo would have done. The slave labeled Genjo Sanzo had no desire to intervene. So he stood quietly and listened, the gray plastic bucket with the acid re-urgings of Gojyo's drinking binge still in hands.

“Please... no...”

A trembling, naked body covered with wounds, blood and semen.

Whimpered pleas for death that came from bloody, torn lips.

Hair with the color of taboo hung listless in a face marred by cuts and bruises.

Eyes so bloodshot that the taboo-color of their irises couldn't be distinguished from the eye-white...

Sanzo winced when memories continued to assault him.

Konchen, who laughed at the sight of Gojyo’s tears.

Konchen, who mocked Sanzo for being a helpless watcher.

Konchen, who grabbed long red hair and dragged Gojyo-

“He tells the truth, master. He was drunk and fell,” Sanzo uttered, his eyes widening when he realized what he was doing. ‘Oh, crap!’