test-drive, vrooom
Jul. 15th, 2010 02:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forthesun[Times where he can't sleep are rare, and potentially humiliating as well. Though he'd originally fallen into sleep heavy like iron, he awakes with a sudden gasp, a lurching and a clutch to his chest. It's not unusual for someone to occasionally have rude awakenings like this, but what's awoken Goku is something he isn't used to.
He'd barely had a chance, really, to acquaint himself with any kind of clue. He'd thought about it on his own time, but he really tried not to. Not to dishonor her memory or to discard it, but to tiptoe around getting himself upset. Sometimes he dreamed of her, though—that youkai girl. So far, his dreams involving her had only been regrettably (and humiliatingly, in hindsight) filthy. This was different. This was horrible.
He can't really even piece the dream together coherently. He remembered her kiss in that dream, and her hard demeanor. That underlying tenderness, and the bold conviction her eyes carried. The conviction that made her stay behind—that pride in her that embodied itself to Goku as rejection. He understood her reasons, but it was so hard to be rational about it. She made him selfish and needy, and then she'd kissed him. Irrationally, he cried for her, gripped with sharp, unfamiliar anguish. It was like when Sanzo would abandon him when he was new to truly living on Earth, but a thousand times worse. And when she would smile back then, it was like the feeling he got from a rare likeness to that in Sanzo, but a million times more gratifying. Familiar but new, exciting and gravitating.
Heartbreak was hard enough as it was, then, but because she stayed behind...
Goku remembers that in his dream, he found part of her body, part of her face. Scattered and gory, burned and ruined. He recognized her eyes. They bore into him without conviction, without pride, but with a sort of pain and sadness that was hazy in her passed death. He knew she made that choice, probably knew what would happen, and he hated that even more. Why was he so selfish?
Why did it have to be the first girl he liked? Why, when he could barely have a chance to get to know his own feelings? Why a youkai, and why when he was heading west? It's unfair. Would have falling in love with a human girl have been different? Smarter? He hadn't made the decision!
Goku buckles, teeth grit quietly as he presses his palms against the sides of his head, his forehead against his knees. A hotness is there, burning through the fabric across his knees as he remembers her smile, again. Cooking. Brushing hands. Modest, awkward small talk and the way she'd smile without being able to meet his eyes, humble, proud eyes on his hands as he assisted her. There's now just confusion, and a lot of agony. But he's quiet, quiet, quiet, because he doesn't want to wake who he's been shacked up with for the evening.
It's humiliating enough as it is, not being able to control these feelings. But oh, damn it. Now he's sniffling. Meddlesome nose.]
He'd barely had a chance, really, to acquaint himself with any kind of clue. He'd thought about it on his own time, but he really tried not to. Not to dishonor her memory or to discard it, but to tiptoe around getting himself upset. Sometimes he dreamed of her, though—that youkai girl. So far, his dreams involving her had only been regrettably (and humiliatingly, in hindsight) filthy. This was different. This was horrible.
He can't really even piece the dream together coherently. He remembered her kiss in that dream, and her hard demeanor. That underlying tenderness, and the bold conviction her eyes carried. The conviction that made her stay behind—that pride in her that embodied itself to Goku as rejection. He understood her reasons, but it was so hard to be rational about it. She made him selfish and needy, and then she'd kissed him. Irrationally, he cried for her, gripped with sharp, unfamiliar anguish. It was like when Sanzo would abandon him when he was new to truly living on Earth, but a thousand times worse. And when she would smile back then, it was like the feeling he got from a rare likeness to that in Sanzo, but a million times more gratifying. Familiar but new, exciting and gravitating.
Heartbreak was hard enough as it was, then, but because she stayed behind...
Goku remembers that in his dream, he found part of her body, part of her face. Scattered and gory, burned and ruined. He recognized her eyes. They bore into him without conviction, without pride, but with a sort of pain and sadness that was hazy in her passed death. He knew she made that choice, probably knew what would happen, and he hated that even more. Why was he so selfish?
Why did it have to be the first girl he liked? Why, when he could barely have a chance to get to know his own feelings? Why a youkai, and why when he was heading west? It's unfair. Would have falling in love with a human girl have been different? Smarter? He hadn't made the decision!
Goku buckles, teeth grit quietly as he presses his palms against the sides of his head, his forehead against his knees. A hotness is there, burning through the fabric across his knees as he remembers her smile, again. Cooking. Brushing hands. Modest, awkward small talk and the way she'd smile without being able to meet his eyes, humble, proud eyes on his hands as he assisted her. There's now just confusion, and a lot of agony. But he's quiet, quiet, quiet, because he doesn't want to wake who he's been shacked up with for the evening.
It's humiliating enough as it is, not being able to control these feelings. But oh, damn it. Now he's sniffling. Meddlesome nose.]