Till the Loneliness Shadows the Sky by Elvaron
Index
Chapter 1: Prologue: Freedom
Chapter 2: Chapter 1: Rain
Chapter 3: Chapter 2 : Plans
Chapter 4: Chapter 3 : Questions
Chapter 5: Chapter 4 : Journeys
Chapter 6: Chapter 5: War
Chapter 7: Chapter 6: Return
Chapter 8: Chapter 7 - Beyond
Author's Notes:
Foreword, edition IV,
At the time this fic was started, I was experimenting with characterization -- to whit: Throw a character into a sticky situation and see what happens. Naturally, I was experimenting with Sanzo, and delighted in throwing him into a situation he would be ill-prepared to deal with: love.
Much has changed. The manga has moved on and its respective characterizations with it. The original plot bunny ran away because it didn't like the direction that the fic was taking. My style changed. My OTP has come, and gone. Saiyuki as a favorite fandom has come and gone.
I was challenged one fine day to finish this fiction. I stared at it in abject horror at
And decided that tearing out half the fic and re-writing it was the best idea. I intended to finish it by Lent, vowed instead to finish it by the end of Advent, and hopefully that’s where the fic leaves us.
Like I said in the foreword for edition III, this is largely goodbye. Venturing outside the Saiyuki fandom has given me the exposure to finally do this fic justice, but it’s also told me that, for now, it’s time to embark on different paths. Maybe I’ll be back one day, but I doubt I’ll be experimenting with the Sanzo/Goku theme again. Frankly? I don’t think I could do anything better than this.
I have to say that edition IV is the first version I’m really happy with. I’ve been struggling with the ending and the general theme of the fiction all the way since 2002, and this showed. Also, my reasons for trying to write this have changed dramatically – initially, it was simply to write a better Sanzo/Goku than I saw out there. Today, there are tons of good, believable fics with this pairing, and my incentive changed to writing something less one-sided in Sanzo’s favor.
So what's different in the fourth version? Since version I, I've cleaned out the japanese almost entirely, for one, and made subtle changes to words and phrases just to improve the general flow and tone of the story. Some of Hakkai's words to Goku in chapter 2 were rewritten to fit into a character mold that I find more believable. The biggest deviation is from what used to be chapter 5 onwards, when Sanzo is in Chun Xiang. Finally, I rewrote a major scene -- the confrontation between Sanzo and Goku in chapter 3.
From version III, I’ve added more scenes in the beginning, streamlined a lot of interaction, and basically added to the general wistful poetic feel that I wanted this piece to have. Of course, I rewrote the plot entirely. I’ve left a lot of the old scenes in for posterity, though, so there’s a change in style midway. Chapter 5 onwards is completely new. If I were striving for perfection I’d rewrite the old bits, but I’m on a schedule here! I’d like to say that this showcases how much my style and technique have improved since 2002, and but I’ll leave you to be the judge of that ^_~.
Thank you all who waited patiently while this fic was in stasis. Your support and reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you also for those who pushed me to finish it. It’s been a long trip, but a worthwhile one. ^_^
Elvaron, November 1st 2005.
Begun : October 14, 2002
Edition III: February 1st, 2005
Edition IV: November 1st, 2005
Till the loneliness shadows the sky
I'll be sailing down and I will know
I know I can clear clouds away
Oh is it a crime.. to love?
- Crucify My Love, X Japan
Summary:
The Journey has ended, and an older Goku begins to see Sanzo as more than just a guardian. The road to maturity, however, is a long one.
TILL THE LONELINESS SHADOWS THE SKY
Prologue -- Freedom
-
Lately, he’s been reaching for the sun in his dreams.
The sun’s a glowing globe of light, suspended just out of reach. His arm is wedged through the stone bars, outstretched, fingers straining as he attempts to overcome that last, treacherous inch. But the stone is mercilessly unyielding, cutting into his shoulder even as his fingers stretch, and just when he thinks he’s got it, his fingers fall again.
His fingers aren’t the only things that fall. Something in his chest twists: a sharp ache that has nothing to do with the protest of sore muscles or the cruel bite of the winter cold. Water pools in his eyes, and he bites his lip to hold it back… to no avail.
He is alone. The cave is cold and dark, and even in his dream, he knows that this cage is not the mountain, but his own room in Chou’An Ji. Cold and dark and empty. And the sun lies just out of reach.
He awakes to tears.
-v-
"Hurry up, damn you!" the all too familiar voice drifted... well, shot through the door and the walls like a bullet from the Smith and Wesson.
Goku’s reply was somewhat muffled as he struggled into his shirt, stuck his head through a sleeve, and ended up royally entangled. There was silence from the other side of the door, but it certainly didn't mean that Sanzo was waiting patiently. Quite the opposite, in fact.
"Blast.. damnit.." Goku snarled, emerging from the shirt like a whale from the water... only to find that it was on backwards. "Sanzo, one minute!"
"Bloody ape! I'm leaving you behind!"
"He won't," Goku muttered to himself, as he put the shirt to rights. "Where is my belt?!" Frantically, he rummaged through piles of discarded clothing. "And this new pair of pants is so loose..."
It took him a full minute to locate the wayward belt, a minute that drained Sanzo's patience to dangerous limits.
"If you don't get out of there right NOW, I'm sending a bullet to look for you!"
"Coming, coming!" Goku fumbled for the door and leapt out.. a little too fast to avoid smashing straight into Sanzo.
"Ow, fuck," the irate priest swore in a most unpriestly manner, saved from a complete tumble to the floor by a convenient banister. "Damn ape, look where you're going!" He shoved Goku off, smacked him over the head out of sheer habit and stalked towards the stairs.
Goku grinned roguishly and hurried after the older man. "Hey, Sanzo, wait up!"
-v-
Goku paused in surprise when they reached their location. He hadn't asked where they were going.. well, he'd known they were going out for dinner, and that had been enough. He hadn't expected...
'Posh' was the first word that sprang to mind.
'Expensive' and 'Famous cuisine' came tumbling after.
"San--" he glanced at the priest, who raised one eyebrow at him that clearly read : 'Shut up and don't ask'.
It was the newest restaurant in town and commanded the latest buzz, as well as, if the rumors were correct, the most famous chef in the land. Which, hopefully, meant the best food in the country.
Oh, he'd been dying to come here since it had opened, a month or so back, but Sanzo had been too busy and even given the generous monthly allowance that the priest showered on him, a single meal here was quite, quite out of the question for him.
-
Goku was half-surprised to find themselves directed to a table for two. He couldn't recall a meal outside the temple since their return from Tenjiku that they hadn't had with Hakkai and Gojyo... but given the prices... Sanzo's generosity had its limits, even if his credit card didn't.
Glancing at menu, he felt a twinge of regret that he was past the days of ordering every dish in double portions. Age and physiological changes had brought a slowing of his metabolic rate and a subsequent decrease in appetite. Under normal circumstances, it was probably a good thing, and Sanzo had been indescribably relieved when his seemingly endless demands for food had slowly whittled to a pale shadow of their former selves. But when everything looked so good that he couldn't decide which to order...
"Everything on the menu?" Sanzo asked, with just a shade of dry humor.
"You know me so well," Goku replied. "But... believe it or not, I don't think I can finish it..."
Sanzo snorted in reply and glanced at the waiter, who promptly stepped up.
Goku propped the menu on the table top and made a few random choices. "I think I'll have--"
"--Everything on the menu," Sanzo interrupted smoothly, without batting an eyelid.
"But--" Goku glanced up.
"But nothing." The reply came in a voice that brooked no argument.
"But you don't eat very much!" Goku wailed.
"You do. I have faith in your appetite," Sanzo looked mildly amused as he waved the flustered and dumbstruck waiter away.
Ah, but they'd changed, since the journey west. If his appetite had decreased, then so had Sanzo's temper. Granted, not getting mortally injured by every passing youkai had something to do with it...
Given a few more eons or so, Sanzo might actually start smiling.
But even given how they'd changed over the years, Sanzo was being particularly nice.
"Is something happening?" Goku asked. Sanzo frowned in askance at his question. "I mean... ah... Hakkai and Gojyo weren't free for dinner?" Goku's brain fumbled at words, trying to piece everything together.
"We're joining them for lunch tomorrow. Seeing the kappa once a week is bad enough. Twice in two days is out of the question."
No, that wasn't quite what he'd been looking for by way of an answer. However, any further clarification of the issue was forestalled by the arrival of the first dishes, and Goku was more than familiar with Sanzo's disinclination to talk during a meal. This place was inconveniently efficient...
Then the smell.. no, the aroma assaulted his senses, and any further thought was waylaid by the instant clamoring of his stomach for Food. Now.
"Itadakimasu!" he cried, grabbing his chopsticks and nearly upsetting his tea cup in his haste. "This stuff smells fantastic!"
"Control yourself, ape," Sanzo muttered.
"Mmmphfff. It tastes as good as it smells!" Goku shovelled dumplings onto his plate and began piling them into his mouth, en masse. "Say.. does seconds sound like a good idea to you?"
"We have fifty five more dishes," Sanzo pointed out, his tone betraying dry amusement. "And you don't have a kappa to share with."
"Oh yeah, that's great!" Goku enthused, and increased the rate of consumption from five mouthfuls a second to ten. It'd been so long since he'd enjoyed a meal this much...
-
Across the table, Sanzo picked at his own food and sighed inwardly in fond annoyance at his companion's antics. Some things never changed, and Goku's enthusiasm for anything edible was one of them. His appetite hadn't so much shrunk as gone into hibernation, waiting for the right opportunity and the right cuisine. This could certainly be classified as both.
And there was silence, blessed silence, while he was eating...
-
Goku slammed the bowl down called for a second bowl of rice and more tea, and returned to decimating the dishes laid in front of them, garnering stares from restaurant staff and other diners alike. Sanzo distributed a few scowls, and curious onlookers hurriedly became curious not-lookers.
-
"Ahhhhhhhh..." Goku heaved a long sigh. "I don't think I can move any more..."
"Dessert to follow," Sanzo said ruthlessly.
"Oh. Dessert. I have a separate stomach for desert," Goku quipped, bouncing back immediately. "Na, Sanzo, where are we going for lunch tomorrow?"
"Hakkai's cooking."
"Hakkai's cooking? YES!" Goku crowed, punching the air. "I miss his cooking!"
"Settle down, idiot."
Further conversation was again forestalled as dessert arrived, and the next half an hour or so was dedicated to eating. By the time the meal was over, Goku slumped over his chair, quite incapable of movement, but very, very happy. "I can safely say that that was one of the best meals of my life," he commented. "By the way, what's--"
"Let's head back," Sanzo cut him off. "It's getting late." He stood, waiting a moment for Goku to stagger to his feet, then headed for the door.
-
Goku caught up with Sanzo as he stepped out of the restaurant. The sun had set while they were eating, and now the stars shone gently in a cloudless sky of black velvet. A lively breeze sprang up, frustrating Sanzo's attempts to light a cigarette.
"I was asking," Goku said, as the dog end finally caught and glowed red. "What's the occasion?"
Sanzo took a drag on the cigarette, and glanced over. "Occasion?"
"Dinner," Goku indicated the restaurant with a tilt of the head. "Lunch tomorrow. And you've been so busy these past few weeks with that business of humans killing youkai..."
Sanzo didn't reply immediately, and they shared a moment of silence as they headed up the road and back to the temple. "You really are a silly ape." The reply, when it came, was not quite what Goku was expecting.
"I'm not an ape!" he retorted indignantly. "I--"
"You're 21 today. Or haven't you noticed?"
"I--... oh." It had completely slipped his mind. He'd remembered, in a vague sort of way, a few days ago, but one thing after another had driven it out of his mind. "21. Wow. Isn't it supposed to be significant? To humans, at least."
"Some places regard it as the age whereupon you reach adulthood," Sanzo replied.
"So Gojyo can't call me a kid anymore. Hah."
"Unless, of course, you keep acting like one."
"Are you implying something?"
"But of course."
Goku only snorted in response.
They didn't talk after that, each content to walk in his own thoughts, their paths lighted by gentle moonlight.
--
"Goodnight, Sanzo!" Goku called, as he headed back to his own room. There was a grunt of acknowledgement from the priest, and the door clicked quietly shut behind him.
Goku paused in the hallway, a stray thought nagging at the back of his head.
So, twenty one, the thought seemed to be saying. You're grown up now.
Make that five hundred and twenty one, he thought back at it. I've been grown up for ages.
No you haven't. Admit it.
In fact, it seemed that the reverse was true. Five hundred years in a cave on a mountainside had robbed him of memory and he had emerged from it as innocent and ignorant as a newborn babe, trusting on blind instinct. His teenage years had been spent catching up on a lost childhood. When eighteen, he hadn't acted eighteen... certainly, not the way Sanzo had acted when he was eighteen. At twenty one, the hyperactivity was just beginning to show signs of slowing.
After all, we're only young once. What's the point of depriving ourselves?
His thoughts strayed back to his guardian, and the brief exchange they'd had, standing in the temple gardens by the lake. The stars shimmered in its depths as they talked, the reflection turned to ripples by the breeze which followed them.
"Are you planning on staying here?" Sanzo had asked. He had discarded the cigarette a long time ago, and now stood with his arms crossed, posing the question with an air of disinterest as he stared at the sky.
"Of course, this is my home," Goku had replied without a second thought. He selected a smooth pebble from the shore, and flicked it towards the water. It fell, skipped three times, then sank with a merry 'plop'.
"Ah."
"Why do you ask?" Goku glanced up in sudden concern. "Is something wrong?"
"No. One wondered, however, if you had any desire to get out of these walls.. live your own life..."
"I've seen enough of the world outside, thank you. What's wrong with the temple?"
Sanzo paused, then swiftly retrieved another pebble and flicked it towards the water. "There is no change here." The pebble hit the surface and bounced, once, twice, thrice, and sank quietly. "It is not, I think, for you. And you are not bound to this place."
Unlike me, were the unspoken words.
"What is freedom?" Goku asked. Sanzo glanced sharply across at him.
"You told me once," Goku said. "Freedom is not freedom if you do not have a place to return to. Even the birds may well loathe their clear skies if they do not have a branch to rest their wings upon."
Sanzo grunted noncommittally.
Goku paused, considering the ramifications and the possibilities ahead of him. To leave.. to see the world. To live as other people did. Sanzo was right, he did not truly belong here, in this sanctuary and ivory tower that was the Temple of Chou'An. Where people barricaded themselves away from the real world and hid behind mantras that they did not truly understand. But he'd seen the real world and...
"My place .. may not be here," he said, finding new insight and new strength with each word that he spoke. Sanzo was a motionless figure in the dark, staring impassively off into the distance. "But my place.. is with you. And you're here." I swore to protect you, Sanzo. Not for a day, not for a year, but for as long as you.. and I... live. I don't intend to break that vow.
"I don't need your protection," the reply came, soft and emotionless.
"So you said. And you nearly got killed a dozen times on the trip West. Sanzo, you're a magnet for trouble."
"Hah. Very well, if that's your answer... suit yourself. But remember, you are always free to go." He turned, heading away from the lake. "It's late."
My place is with you, Goku thought, quietly letting himself into his own room.
TBC
Chapter 1 -- Rain
Clouds arrived with the morning, hazy gray ones that hung low in the sky and promised rain by the evening. They set out in silence, Sanzo pausing to light another Marlboro as the last one burned away. The smell of the smoke drove away the smell of the rain, that insidious stink that burned down the lungs and made the shadows seem just a little darker, made the world seem just a little more annoying, and the made the sutras across his shoulders weigh just a little bit more.
Annoyed, he flicked at one, his sandals churning up dust from the dry road. It was April, that month where the weather did as it willed. It hadn't rained a while... which promised...
"Sanzo?"
He glanced up. Somewhere in his musings, he'd reached the turn and walked straight on. Suddenly angry with himself and the unforgivable carelessness, he snapped the cigarette between fingers and dropped it to the ground, grinding it under the heel.
"Sanzo, are you okay?" there was only innocent concern in Goku's eyes, concern that made him want to grab the youth and shake him and tell him that he didn't need protection, didn't need concern, that he perfectly fine on his own, thank you. Instead, he turned and strode past Goku in silence, trying not to look at the sky and those dark, rolling clouds.
It would rain all night. He was sure of that.
-
They ate and drank and were merry, Sanzo noted, leaning back and half way through a new cigarette. They talked of little things, little anecdotes and how Gojyo had gotten his hand stuck down the toilet when more than slightly drunk, of Hakkai's new found interest in gardening and how Hakuryuu had taken to ratting and depositing the vermin at the foot of the bed in the morning.
How quickly we settle back into our old routines.
They had gone forth, a journey that lasted three years and countless lifetimes, and they had changed the world. And now they were talking about potatoes.
But it was to be expected, really. They'd looked for normality, all of them, and normality had found three out of the four. Sanzo sighed mentally and tugged at the high-necked collar.
"Another beer?" Hakkai asked. He responded with a brief nod, and was rewarded with a chilled silver can tossed in his direction. He paused before opening it, content instead to enjoy the cigarette while it lasted. Of course normality hadn't found him... he was a Sanzo and he'd made the stupid mistake of coming back to Chou'An where the Three Aspects had metaphorically handed him a mop and told him, "Welcome back. Now go and handle the clean-up."
Humans attacking youkai, youkai attacking humans... it made his brain hurt just thinking about it.
He was long past due for a holiday, but Sanzos didn't have days off, it appeared.
-
There was a squeak and a rustle, and abruptly, one shoulder felt slightly heavier than the other. Sanzo glanced to his right to find Hakuryuu perched there. It nosed the beer can and stared pointedly at the food on his plate, mostly untouched.
"Kyuu?"
"Sanzo, please don't feed him," Hakkai said, "He's fat enough as it is."
"Kyuu!"
"So you say," Gojyo retorted to the dragon. "Soon you won't even be able to fly."
"Na, Sanzo, if you don't want it, you can always give it to me," Goku prompted.
"Idiots," Sanzo muttered, reaching for his chopsticks.
-
"Stay for the afternoon," Hakkai had suggested, the same time he'd suggested lunch. "I know you're busy, but surely you can take a day off.."
The monocled youkai was nothing if not thorough, Sanzo noted, as he watched Goku shovel cake into his mouth. Cake was a scarce commodity here, which meant that Hakkai had either gone through the city with a fine-toothed comb, or had learnt, somewhere and somehow, the arcane art of baking.
Not that Goku would have minded having more dumplings. Food was food was ... a real waste of time, in his opinion, but it was the one thing that made the ape happy. The simple pleasures in life.
"Cards?" Gojyo suggested, but Sanzo shook his head and glanced at the threatening sky outside. "We have to head back."
"You could stay for the night..." Hakkai, who would work a miracle within the next few hours to produce two more beds and more space in their already cramped apartment.
"I have business to attend to," Sanzo replied briefly. "Goku can stay if he wants."
"Hmm?" Goku looked up. "Really?"
"You're old enough to look after yourself, idiot," Sanzo said with a touch of frustration.
He missed the look that Goku gave him then, a slight, puzzled frown and a worried crease of his eyebrows. The look vanished by the time Sanzo looked up to regard him with expressionless amethyst eyes. "Well?"
"I'll stay for the night. See you tomorrow," Goku announced.
"Fine, then I'll be leaving. Don't eat Hakkai and Gojyo out of house and home," he warned, then to Hakkai, "Don't feed him. He's fat enough as it is."
"Hey!"
"Do you need an umbrella?" Hakkai asked.
"I'll be fine."
"Ah, now I can have the rest of the beer to myself," Gojyo grinned, reaching for another can to prove his point.
"Whatever," Sanzo replied, and stepped out of the door.
-
"Hakkai," Goku asked, as Gojyo cleared the dinner plates away. "Do you think Sanzo got back in time?"
Hakkai glanced at the pouring rain and smiled his usual little smile. "I should think so. The rain just started."
"Why does Sanzo hate the rain?"
Hakkai glanced across to where Goku was standing, elbows against the window sill and gaze directed out towards the darkness.
"I think... that's a question you should ask him yourself."
"But what if he won't tell me?" Goku asked.
"Then... that's up to him."
"Hakkai..." Goku turned back, his face troubled. "I..."
Hakkai waited, as the sounds of Gojyo washing up came clattering from the kitchen.
"... Nevermind," Goku started to turn back to the window, chewing on his lower lip in an unconscious gesture of worry.
"You love him, is that it?"
Goku spun back, his eyes wide. "What...? I .. no.. I ..."
"You're blushing, saru," Gojyo said from the doorway. "What's up?"
"I.. nothing," he bit back.
"Thinking of that cranky monk? I'm sure that he's home and dry in his gilded temple by now."
"No.. I mean, yes.. I mean.. argh, damnit!" He cast a glare at Hakkai, who chuckled.
"Nothing wrong with that," Hakkai replied.
"Nothing wrong with what?" Gojyo asked.
"Nothing. I think I'll--"
"Catch." Gojyo flung something at him. Instinctively, Goku plucked it out of the air, to find himself cradling a silver can.
"Drink up, birthday boy," Gojyo grinned at him.
"I... fine," Goku plunked himself down at the table.
-
It was in a sort of haze that he stumbled to bed, or, rather, to Gojyo's bed, since the half youkai had generously volunteered to sleep on the couch. Perhaps he shouldn't have drunk so much beer, but looking at Sanzo, he'd always thought that downing a 6 pack was simply a matter of course.
Evidently, it wasn't.
"Hakkai," he slurred at the other occupant of the room, who was busy drawing the curtains. "About earlier.."
"Hm?" Hakkai stilled his movements.
"It's not love, is it?" Goku said, staring dreamily at the ceiling. "It's just that.. I'm supposed to protect him, and.. but.. I can't protect him from himself. The rain and all that.. he's upset and I can't help him. I can't make feel better. He just locks the door and smokes all night."
"Hm," Hakkai replied, noncommittal, and stepped away from the window to sit on his own bed.
"He... brought light into my world," Goku said, drowsiness starting to creep into his voice. "I wish I could do the same for him. He's trapped, just like I was, in his own mountain... what do I do, Hakkai?"
There was silence from the other end of the room, and for a long moment, there was just the patter of raindrops across the window pane.
"Hakkai?" Goku turned, to see Hakkai sitting in thought, one eye obscured by his monocle, the other half-closed. He was about to repeat his question when the older man looked up again.
"Emotion is a strange thing, Goku. It's unpredictable; it defies logic." Hakkai smiled, a small one, but more real and genuine than any Goku had seen in a while. "Sometimes, the solution is not to rationalize, but to let things carry their course. It takes a lot of patience, and it may take a long while, but remember: you never really lose until you fall and don't get back up again."
Goku wanted to mumble a comment, but the swirling warmth of the alcohol and the sheets carried his voice away, and he shifted into dreams before he even realized it.
He saw... Sanzo standing by the lake, staring into its troubled depths as the rain splashed across its surface, destroying any reflection. He was not smoking; it would have been impossible to do so with the heavy drops that poured down from the heavens.
"Sanzo?" he called, but the man didn't seem to hear him. The priest unfurled his fingers, and Goku saw that he was holding a flat pebble. Wordlessly, he flicked it towards the water, where it hit a ripple and sank immediately, spreading ripples of its own.
"No change," he heard the muttered words.
"There is change!" Goku cried. "There's always change, if you look for it."
Sanzo brushed at his soggy bangs, but made no sign of having heard.
I can't reach him, Goku thought in despair.
"Sanzo..."
The priest turned and headed away from the lake, wading through the puddles.
"You'll get your socks all wet," Goku said inanely, following Sanzo as he stepped through the main doors of the temple, leaving wet footprints in his wake. Various lower ranking monks rushed up, asking Sanzo-houshi why he'd walked home in the rain and would he need anything, and where was Goku-san...
Sanzo silenced them with a look, and continued on his way, as the acolytes murmured in dismay at the trail of water. Goku raced after him, in time to catch him stepping into his room.
"Sanzo! Wait!"
The door clicked shut in his face.
"I..." Goku stared at the wood work in frustration.
'Thinking about that cranky monk?' Gojyo's voice drifted to mind.
'You love him, is that it?' Hakkai's words.
"It's not love... is it?"
--
"I'm back!"
"And how much did you drink last night?" Sanzo asked, not looking up from the stack of papers in front of him.
"Ahhhhh.. how did you know?"
Sanzo snorted and rolled his eyes.
"Just about 5 or 6 cans..."
"Alcohol's meant to be drunk, not quaffed, idiot."
"But you... you do it all the time!" Goku protested. "Did you get caught in the rain?"
"No," Sanzo replied briefly. "Now run along."
"Why are your sutras wet?"
Sanzo glanced up then, his eyes narrowed. "Alright, so I had to run the last hundred meters or so... what's it to you?"
"I..."
I love you somehow found itself on the tip of his tongue, and Goku choked back the words in a hurry. "I was worried, that's all."
"Idiot. A little bit of rain never hurt anyone." But Sanzo looked away when he said that, and his fingers tightened unconsciously around the brush.
"Sanzo..."
"What is it, ape? Can't you see that I'm busy?"
"Nothing. See you later," Goku vacated the office as fast possible.
-
The hallways were polished marble, the pillars stone and goldleaf, all beautiful, polished, cold cold cold...
His footsteps, aimless and wandering, were the only sounds that echoed through this pristine world, this unreal place that was the antithesis of everything the real world represented. Here you found part of Heaven, the unchanging, flawless perfection, a world encased in stone and crystal and left high up on a shelf to be admired.
Here you could almost believe in immortality, because this was what immortality was like... beautiful, polished.. dead.
There is no change here.
Goku paused.
It is not, I think, for you.
"It's not for you either," Goku hissed, slamming a fist against the unyielding surface. "There's nothing here, just work and more work. No one's happy here. Everyone's trying to find that middle path or whatever and attain enlightenment. No one really lives here. I should get you away, someplace.. some place where we can be happy.."
But a flash of uncommon insight came to him then, a voice that might have been Sanzo's, might have been Hakkai's, but neither had ever said this to him : If there is no happiness here, then neither is there sadness...
That's the path he chose, isn't it? Non-attachment, the middle road... neither to experience the joys of friendship nor the pain of loss, to continue, from day to day to day, on a level path that goes neither to the highlands nor to the low...
To simply exist, unchanging in a changing world...
"Keep pounding the wall like that and you're going to break your hand."
Goku spun at the sound, startled. Sanzo stood a few paces behind, leaning against a pillar, arms folded across his chest.
"I... I...." he foundered, lost for words.
"Not that again," Sanzo snorted.
"I thought you were busy."
"I was." The reply was flat, void of any emotion. Totally unreadable, as blank as a slate...
He's like this place, Goku realized unhappily. All pristine perfection, untouchable, removed from the world..
But.. but.. isn't that the way he wants to be?
Sanzo took a long drag from the cigarette and resisted the urge to stick a finger into his ear. Something was up with Goku, and whenever that happened, he caught faint whispers of this little voice calling his name, this voice that had haunted his dreams and dogged his footsteps until the day he'd set the boy free from the cave on the mountainside.
Not that it was any use telling Goku to shut up, no matter how badly he wanted to do so. This appeared to be totally unconscious.
And hammering him over the head with the fan doesn't help either.
So he'd jabbed the brush into the inkpot in annoyance, risen from his chair and gone to hunt for the source of that voice. To find said source pounding pillars in the middle of a deserted corridor. Gods, the boy had no sense. None at all.
He wasn't about to break the silence, now that he had it. Wasting time bandying words was not his style. Sooner or later, Goku would tell him what was on his mind, or he'd at least calm down and stop yammering in his mind.
Goku opened his mouth, then shut it, rather comically. Then, something rather unexpected, given the circumstances... "Have you had lunch?"
One golden eyebrow rose in surprise. "And you were banging walls because you were hungry?"
"No.. not really," Goku grinned, that age old grin that never changed whenever food was mentioned. "It's just that I think better on a full stomach."
"Idiot. You don't think at all, full stomach or no," Sanzo said in exasperation. "Very well, whatever shuts you up."
"Shuts me up?"
"Come on," Sanzo said, detaching himself from the pillar brushing past Goku.
"Great! Can we have mean buns, Sanzo? Please? Please? Pleeeeeasee?"
And the oft-used words that had not been heard on temple grounds for some three years once again echoed through the corridors, bringing with them a breath of life and sound to the quiet halls...
"Shut the fuck up!"
Author's Notes: A gentle reminder that, being based after the mission, some parts of this story -- especially concerning those of the mission's outcome -- are not canon
TILL THE LONELINESS SHADOWS THE SKY
Chapter 2 -- Plans
Lunch was a private affair on the balcony, involving as many meat buns as Goku could reasonably beg off the kitchen staff and carry. While countless acolytes would have vied for the honor of serving the vaunted Sanzo-sama, said Sanzo-sama had made it pointedly clear that he looked after himself, thank you very much.
So the task of arranging and obtaining lunch fell to Goku, as it always did when they dined together. Sanzo, concerns about work shoved momentarily to the back of his head, stood by the railing, studying the view of the city beyond. If he squinted, he could have made out the road along which he -- and Goku -- had taken, some three, four years ago, on the mission to end all other missions. The same road that they had returned along, bloodied and weary, while cheering humans lined the streets to welcome them back.
It seemed like a life time ago.
The clatter of plates caught his attention. He waited a while, content to drift in his own thoughts, while Goku set the table, piling most of the buns onto his own plate. He turned when a chirpy voice called his name.
"Sanzo, can I have beer?"
Biting back the customary retort that sprang, a reflex action, to his lips, Sanzo opted for a shrug and a "Do as you wish." He didn't miss the start of surprise in Goku's oh-so-readable golden eyes, and hard on its heels, the rush of enthusiasm.
"Really?" Goku said, reaching for a silvered can. "Then--"
"On the provision that it's limited to one can only," Sanzo cut in smoothly.
"Only?"
"One can is quite enough for you," came the reply. "The rest of the beer is for me."
"Selfish," Goku said, blowing a raspberry.
"Really? And who's the one taking all the buns?"
"But... it's not like you want them, anyway." A slight sulk of a child outmaneuvered in a stint of verbal sparring. Goku was still a child. In so many ways.
And yet not a child, as he had proven on many occasions. Certainly, the blood on his hands. He had never forgiven himself for the deaths of Homura and Kougaiji. Yet it had been inevitable, as these things tended to be. Admirable as their enemies had been, they were nonetheless just that -- noble enemies who stuck to their cause and their beliefs to the end.
Sacrifices always had to be made.
Yet despite all of that, Goku was still very much the same person he'd always been. One would have expected the dumbstruck innocence on those too-wide golden irises to fade after time; one who have expected less laughter and fewer smiles, one would at least have expected a bit of darkness to leak through. But none of that had happened, and he had brought back the more or less the same bakazaru who had followed him down that road, scant weeks after he had freed him from his prison on the barren mountainside.
"Whatcha thinking of, Sanzo?"
The voice that he heard as often in his mind as in his ears caught his attention and dragged him back from wherever his mind had wandered to. Sanzo ignored the question, preferring to pose one of his own : "What's troubling you?"
Goku's eyes went a little wide at that, betraying his next words even before they were said : "Oh, nothing."
Nothing indeed. You're a bad liar, saru. "Really."
"Well...."
Sanzo waited, with the patience of one who knows that waiting is sometimes the best way to catch one's prey. Just another lesson he had learnt on the long road West.
When it was evident that no outlet or lifeline was forthcoming, Goku began to stumble over words. "It's just that... just that... I .. uhhh, don't know how to say this."
"What nonsense did those two idiots put into your head, I wonder," Sanzo muttered to himself. Then louder : "Trust your instincts, saru. They're generally better than your head."
Goku bit his lip and turned to the side, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. "I ... I... I'll tell you another time, k?"
Silence greeted him from the other end of the table. A silence that all but demanded to be filled.
"It's just that... I don't want to leave," Goku said earnestly, trying his best to sort through a suddenly tangled skein of emotions. "You know, you said.. I could go away.. I don't want to."
"So you've said. I rather suspect that that's not what's bothering you." In general, perhaps. But it's something more specific than that...
Goku's brow creased, and he lowered his head, pushing meatbuns around on his plate with his chopsticks. "I don't think it's something you'd want to hear, Sanzo."
"Since when has that stopped you from saying anything?" Sanzo demanded, his tone becoming just a little harsher. So it concerns me, does it? And I wouldn't like know it. Oh, very interesting, Goku.
Goku shook his head. "Not today. I'm not even sure of it, myself." He resumed eating.
And that was that, Sanzo knew. He could have pushed for information, and certainly, Goku would have ended up blabbing, but he saw no point in pursuing the matter. He suspected what was going on under that sandy mop of brown hair, and he didn't like the direction it was taking. Better if the issue were not raised. In time, perhaps, Goku would sort out his feelings and everything would be solved without ever becoming a problem. Perhaps.
And because Genjo Sanzo always had the last word, he directed a parting shot at the youth as he stood, preparing to return to his office. "Don't keep secrets for too long, Goku. You were never fond of them."
--
"How can you tell?" Goku asked, staring at interlaced fingers. "How do you know?"
"How do you differenciate one emotion from another? One just knows, Goku," came the reply from the man seated across the table. It was different table from the one he was used to sharing with Sanzo. In fact, this was an entirely different place from the temple, a simple apartment that encompassed an entirely different world. Here, with the plain wooden furniture and the bare-bulbed lamp swinging from the ceiling... here, with the paint flaking off the walls, except where attempts had been made to add a new coat had commenced... he could speak his mind in peace.
"How is that different from friendship?" Goku asked, still not looking up.
"Perhaps you could call it a stronger emotion," Hakkai told him.
"But... but... he's a guy!" Goku all but wailed. "I thought guys were supposed to go for girls! Like Gojyo!"
"How naive," comment the third occupent of the room.
"So you say, Gojyo," Goku said, shooting him a glare from below tousled bangs.
"It happens to anyone, idiot. 'Cept... perhaps we don't call it love. Isn't that so?" Gojyo nudged his housemate.
"Love is a convenient label," Hakkai agreed. "Applied to a great many things, and, as such, not descriptive enough to cover all of them. You feel what you feel... and you can choose to name it or not to, but putting a name to it does not make it what it is not.. nor does not putting a name to it make it any less real." And he elbowed Gojyo back.
"But you and the monk..." Gojyo threw his hands into the air in mock surrender. "Talk about bad taste. "Listen, if it's hot sex you want, I know a lot of--"
"That's not what I want," Goku snapped, not in the mood for jokes.
"Oooh, so you want us to help you get hooked up with your beloved Sanzo-sama?" Gojyo quipped. "Try romantic candle-light dinners. Pick up the tab for a change. A new dress would be nice too... can't have him wearing the same thing for years, can we?"
"One imagines that Sanzo wouldn't be too pleased," Hakkai said, smiling.
"Chocolate. Chocolate's da bomb. Endorphins and all that. You'll have him dancing in the palm of your hand."
"You don't understand," Goku groaned.
Gojyo winked at Hakkai. "Really?"
Hakkai rolled his eyes. "Actually, I think you don't, Gojyo. I'm not Sanzo."
"And thank goodness for that."
"The question being.. is it wise to pursue this course of action, considering the high chance of.. shall we say, rejection?" Hakkai said delicately. Only one who knew him well would be able to tell that he was, in fact, terribly amused by this turn of events. He could well imagine Sanzo's rather violent reaction to all this plotting proceeding behind his back.
"Yeah. Rejection. Seen lots of that," Gojyo said, with a shake of his head. "The only way is to keep trying."
"You're not helping," Goku said. "Sanzo's not some girl you can just pick up."
"Oh? Would never have guessed," Gojyo said, then yelped in pain as Hakkai stepped -- hard -- on his toes.
"No, he's not," Hakkai replied smoothly, placing a companionable and possessive arm around Gojyo's shoulder as he whispered, sotto voce, "And don't you even think about it, Gojyo-san."
"Why should I? There are easier targets," Gojyo muttered under his breath.
"Yet none so pretty."
Gojyo howled with laughter. "You said that. I didn't!"
"Said what?" Goku asked in confusion.
"Private joke," Hakkai replied, chuckling, as he withdrew his arm.
"Look Goku, take it from me," Gojyo said, leaning forward. "There are three ways you can go about it. You can forget about the entire thing in the first place and concentrate on someone who actually has a heart. That's what I would do, actually. Or you could act on it, which means that you could go indirectly -- candlelight dinners, for a start -- or you could just drop the bomb on our favorite priest's head and see how he reacts."
"Preferably while he's drunk," Hakkai muttered.
"Preferably from long range," Gojyo seconded.
"What do you think I should do?"
"Like I advised -- forget about it. Sanzo's not going to come down from whatever icy mountain he's stuck on and become a real human being. Not in a hundred lifetimes."
"That's rather unkind," Goku replied. "He opened up to us nearer the end of the journey."
"To you maybe," Gojyo replied. "Me, I think I've lost at least a billion braincells to that harisen."
"You don't need them," Hakkai mumbled.
"Was it the mushrooms we had for lunch?" Gojyo queried. "You're acting real strange."
"Am I?" Hakkai asked, feigning innocence.
"Take it from the guy who knows you best."
"Ah."
"It's just that..." Goku was saying, oblivious to the conversation in front of him. "... I don't know if I love him. I mean, he's the one I wanted to protect and he's the one who--"
"--And your point is?" Gojyo said.
"What if it's not ..." Goku winced. "Love?"
"What if it's just infatuation? Then you just dump him and look for someone better," Gojyo, the expert on all affairs of the heart, replied without a moment's pause.
"It's not unnatural, if that's what you were asking," Hakkai said. "It's not something that doesn't happen." He refused to catch Gojyo's eye. "If you ask me, I think that... if it were just infatuation, it would have died down a long time ago. You've known him for almost a decade."
"But.." Goku looked nervous.
"What is it you truly want, Goku?" Hakkai said gently.
"A good lay," Gojyo supplied, and got his toes stepped on again.
"I .. want to tell him," Goku said. "I just... don't dare."
"Then summon the courage," Hakkai smiled. "You'll never know if you don't try."
--
"I can't believe you told him that," Gojyo said, eyeing Goku as he headed down the road for Chou'An. "I can't believe you egged him on."
"It promises to be interesting," Hakkai replied, sounding not unlike a certain Goddess of Mercy.
"Interesting? We'll be able to see the fireworks from here."
"True, so true. But," he shrugged. "I've been watching them for a while. If nothing else, there's some sort of chemistry between them."
"The explosive type, you mean."
"Still."
"You're evil when you set your mind to it, Cho Hakkai."
"Really."
"10 bucks says that he'll get rejected."
"You're on."
Author's Notes:
Be prepared for switching PoVs, characteristic of a third person omniscient view.
TILL THE LONELINESS SHADOWS THE SKY
Chapter 3 -- Questions
Alright. Here goes nothing.
"Sanzo?"
Sanzo barely glanced up from his paperwork before his eyes returned to the paper. "What is it?"
Thirty eight killed in the southern village of Chun Xiang. Eyewitnesses report a youkai raid on the towncenter. The mayor has requested military assitance...
...clashes between human and youkai forces at 9:00am yesterday, resulting in five deaths and sixteen injured. Youkai casulties unknown; youkai civilians known to be amongst the dead...
This whole thing is just a huge, bloody mess...
He'd missed Goku's question. Tugging off his spectacles and carelessly tossing them onto the tabletop, he swiped a hand over eyes gone too dry from hours of reading. "Say again?"
Goku bit his lip, suddenly losing the courage to pose the question a second time. But Sanzo was obviously waiting for a response, so he settled for the first, inane thing that came to mind: "It's raining..."
Sanzo sighed in annoyance. "If you don't have anything better to say, why don't you just go and look for something constructive?"
"I mean... it's unusual for it to rain so much in April..."
"Goku, just go away," Sanzo reached for his glasses again.
...One regiment dispatched to Chun Xiang, reports indicate that a local resistance group is being formed...
.
Just get on with it. You'll never know if you never ask, Goku chided himself. So with the decisiveness which had led him to remove his limiter in the past -- let's do this as fast as possible so that I don't have time to think about it -- he took a breath and plunged into the deep end.
"I… uh… do you love anyone?”
.
The gaze that Sanzo turned on him was flatly unreadable. The very expression that he had come to recognize as a precursor to trouble, Goku's courage tucked its tail between its legs and fled.
"Ah... never mind..."
"Just take your questions and go and pester someone else, will you?" Sanzo said, the annoyance evident in his voice.
Goku felt a flash of uncharacteristic anger then -- the anger of someone who's been brushed off one too many times, on an important question, by an important person... He grabbed a chair and flopped down into it, frowning. "I don't want to."
"Damnit, Goku, I have work to do here," Sanzo growled, when the other showed no sign of moving. "Why do you persist on bothering me when I'm busy?"
"Because I love you."
The words shot out of his mouth before he could stop them. He'd meant it as a question, truly, meant to ask it, but somewhere between his brain and his mouth, it had mutated. His gut spasmed in anxiety and dread. This is just not the way I wanted this conversation to go... Maybe he didn't hear it, maybe he missed what I said again, maybe he's not paying attention...
He glanced furtively up at Sanzo's expression. Fat chance.
.
He'd expected it. He'd half expected such a stupid proclaimation from Goku, sooner or later, and he swore that he was going to kill the person who'd put that half-baked notion into his head. Love... the word had the texture of burning paper, something that had started to curl around the edges and crumble to pieces, accompanied by the acrid smell of charred carbon...
A word he'd come to shun, all these long years, and not -- not -- something that he wanted to deal with right now, not with all that work bearing down onto his shoulders and threatening to pulverize him under its load. Most of all, not something that he wanted to deal with on a cold, rainy day, with the ghosts of yesteryear hovering over his shoulder.
"Love? A quaint emotion." Sanzo slammed his papers onto the table and shoved the chair back. Spinning, he marched over to the window, glaring at the rain drops splattering against the pane. "You don't understand what it is. What a burden.. what a curse it is. It's a delusion, and nothing good ever came out of it."
"But... but..."
"You don't love me, Goku. Get that stupid notion out of your addled head."
"But I do!" Goku cried. The situation had slipped out of his grasp and gone spinning into the wind. He was upset, he was distraught, but mostly, he had a strange, surreal feeling that this was all a nightmare, and not true...
"Muichimotsu. If you meet Buddha, kill him. If you meet your forefather, kill him. Beholden to nothing, unfettered." The words came driving through the chaos to him, and it seemed that he listened to them for the first time, realizing their full import and meaning like never before. "Merely living for life itself..."
Non-attachment, the middle road... neither to experience the joys of friendship nor the pain of loss, to continue, from day to day to day, on a level path that goes neither to the highlands nor to the low...
To simply exist, unchanging in a changing world...
.
Goku stared. And because it was too late to undo the damage, there was nothing to do but to dig himself further in.
"You don't really believe that."
Sanzo snarled. "This conversation is over."
"You don't believe that," Goku yelled back. "You can't run from attachment! It's not a switch you can simply turn off! You can harden your heart, turn back on it, deny its existence, but you loved once."
Sanzo spun, and the strange, furious light in his eyes made Goku take a step back in sudden, abrupt panic. Good sense was catching up, good sense and prudence together, and both too late.
"Who planted that notion in your head?" Sanzo hissed.
"You must have," Goku replied. He'd heard, of course, the rumors of Sanzo's mentor. Sanzo's father figure. The one who had rescued him and brought him up and taught him everything he knew.
And I know what it's like to have someone like that, and how easy it is to love him...
"You must have," he said again. "Because you can't turn off emotion on your own. But hate and anger... and losing someone you loved... those must have hardened your heart. And because you were hurt once, once, you're just running away from it."
Sanzo had gone rigid. Hands clenched, eyes gone stone cold. Harder than rock. Harder than diamonds. And the silence that hung between them sharp enough to stab right through Goku's heart.
This was not the way I wanted it to be...
And his nerve broke. He fled, before harsh words could pursue. Fled from the storm raging through his heart and his mind. Wrenched the door open, and staggered into the corridor, his throat constricting as if he were strangling. He ran then, and there was nothing but the running, the air burning into his lungs and his mind going blank. The pounding of his feet against the floor driving coherent thought aside, tearing away the world until there was only the passing wind against the moisture on his cheeks.
Nothing. Just plain blissful nothing.
And even in that nothing, Sanzo's voice caught up with him.
Muichimotsu. Non-attachment. Beholden to nothing. Because love hurts. And now you know, how easy it is for a heart to hurt if you were only to open it...
He yelled at that voice to shut up. For the first time in his life, it was a horrible, unwelcomed presence in his head that he simply wanted far away from him. Love and hate twisted in his mind, twin serpents that devoured each other. And they circled around a single figure, a single name.
He found himself voicelessly sobbing that name, even as he collapsed into his room, slamming the door behind.
Sanzo.
And he could not tell if the tears that fell like scattered rain were drops of pain or anger.
--
Sanzo stayed where he was, staring out of the glass at a world obscured by the rain. He could have turned, to look at the doorway through which Goku had departed. But he saw no point in that, just as there was no point brooding over harsh words that could not be retracted.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing a growing headache to recede. He hadn't actually meant to upset the saru so much, although one had to concede that he could have phrased the words better... But when it came down to the crunch, there was no easy way of doing this, and certainly, there was nothing more effective than a verbal slap to the head to drive all the romantic notions out of it. As if he were an hormone ridden teenager still infatuated by Sentiment. As if either of them were.
...If only the kid hadn't been so blasted close to the truth.
But now you know. How easily one is hurt by love. Now you've that you've had a taste of the pain that it brings, you'll know better. Not that you could understand. Not that you know anything. How dare you bring him into this...
He didn't move from the window, even as afternoon turned into evening. Stood and smoked, filling the ashtray with burnt out cigarette ends.
Burnt out. Like me. Like this tired old world.
The light shifted as the sun set, angling to falling through the window and onto his table. He turned from the glare, and his eyes followed the rays, beholding the neglected paperwork.
By all the gods, it was bad enough dealing with the crazy mess that was Togenkyo, without having to deal with the crazy mess that was Goku's emotional state at the moment. He considered simply ignoring the kid until the storm blew over and Goku bounced back... then sighed irritably as he realized that the problem wouldn't blow over until it came back and bit him in the ass first.
It was then that the order came.
"Now?" Sanzo ground the cigarette into the ashtray, and positively glared at the acolyte.
"The Three Aspects were quite adamant, Sanzo-sama..."
"Their timing couldn't be worse." He glared the pile of papers, at the chair that Goku had vacated, and sighed in frustration. "I'll be there directly."
-
For once, I'd like to tell them to take their bloody orders and stuff it where the sun doesn't shine...
Monks scuttled out of his way as he strode up the stairway leading to the shrine, clad in the full finery of the highest ranking priest in the land... and the full wrath of Genjo Sanzo, waylaid by his superiors and in an utterly foul mood.
He adjusted the diadem as he neared the doors, silently railing at the uncomfortable weight that was heightening his migraine. Without even pausing for his entrance to be announced, he shoved the doors open and strode in.
And knelt, regardless of his feelings, out of deference for gods that he hardly respected.
"Genjo Sanzo." If they were unphased by his abrupt entrance, they made no mention of it.
"At your service," he responded.
"We apologize for the hasty summons." The usual crap. The usual bullshit. It might have meant more if the summons weren't always hasty...
"Not at all." Idly, he wondered whether his irritation was detectable in his answers, polite, correct, routine. They made him drop everything and come running.. and wasted time getting to the point.
"You must be familiar with the situation in Chun Xiang by now." It was the male who spoke. "The slaughter of human families by youkai."
"Yes."
"The humans have organized a local resistance group. Their stated objective is the protection of the village, and they have called in a regiment from Chou'An."
All this he knew. That they were repeating it again could only spell bad news.
"However, we are beginning to suspect that this is more than simply a resistance movement. In the last twenty four hours, they have struck back at youkai enclaves, slaughtering everyone, women and children inclusive."
Sanzo closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Oh, just absolutely brilliant...
"The most recent reports from the frontier indicate that this group is raising anti-youkai sentiments in region. They are gathering anti-youkai dissidents together and rallying military support in the name of self-protection. It is suggested that their true, and long term objective, is the annihilation of all youkai in the region."
"Which, if I may venture an opinion, is absolutely impossible. And utterly unncessary."
"Correct. The objective of stopping the Minus Wave and the resurrection of Gyuumaou was the restoration of harmony between the two races. Neither side will be eliminated until a long and bloody war has been waged, and countless lives have been lost in the process."
Watch for it, Sanzo thought wryly, Here it comes...
"Genjo Sanzo." It was the female who spoke this time, the one whose eyes were always shut -- against what, he wondered. "We order you to proceed with all speed to Chun Xiang..."
"...to identify the masterminds behind this movement..." the other female, this time.
"...and to take the necessary measures to arrest it..." back to the male.
"...and restore peace and harmony to Togenkyo," concluded the first female.
Bingo. Drop everything and run, Genjo Sanzo, because we, the gods, order it. "If I may delay my departure by one day... there are matters to which I need to attend..."
"Time runs short, Sanzo. Youkai and human clashes occur as we speak. If you arrive too late, the situation may have escalated beyond control. It is advisable that you leave immediately."
So much for that. So much for dealing with Goku before he went overboard. So much for anything and any plans he might have had for the next few days. "...As you command."
***
TBC
***
Author's Notes: As mentioned, this fic was re-written several times. This is where the latest (and last) edition deviates from the previous ones.
It occured to Sanzo that the reason he did all this 'saving the world' nonsense, was because it was, after all, something that needed to be done. As much as he tired of running around on divine errands, he was not about to let Togenkyo fall into chaos... at least, not while he was still there.
And if something went wrong, or if someone else was sent and failed... it would be his personal fault.
He hammered on the door again. "Oi, Goku!" And again, this failed to elicit any response. Shaking his head in a combination of impatience and frustration, he snatched up the satchel and strode for the door.
--
Goku heard the banging, but it seemed too much of an effort to rouse himself from the bed. He wasn't upset -- he told himself that much -- he wasn't crying any more because it wasn't any use, and he just refused, without rationale, to have a break down.
He'd expected it. He'd hoped for a favorable outcome -- who wouldn't? -- but this was Sanzo they were talking about.
Sanzo's not going to come down from whatever icy mountain he's stuck on and become a real human being. Not in a hundred lifetimes.
"Gojyo," he murmured at the ceiling. "You were right."
But thinking of Gojyo made him think of Hakkai, and Hakkai's urging him to keep trying, and not give up.
I don't guarentee it'll be easy, Hakkai had said. In fact, it's probably going to be extremely difficult. But if you truly care for him, it might be worth the pain.
So he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling, and trying to work out a Plan B. Difficult, that, considering that he hadn't even had a Plan A to begin with.
And when Sanzo came hammering on the door, he just wasn't prepared to face him, wasn't prepared to talk about it until his mind had cleared.
Something that might have been grief, might have been anger, and was likely both, twisted in his stomach. The less logical side of him wailed and grieved and yelled out accusations : how could you have done that? After all we've been through together?! How could you just turn away, knowing how much I care for you? How could you be so mean?
"I'm not angry," he told the ceiling, as the knocking stopped, and there was the sound of receding footsteps. "I'm not angry with him..."
He didn't rise even when his stomach started growling. He simply stayed, afloat in a sea of circling thoughts that tried to center around the question of what to do next, but kept drifting away instead. He visited the worn tracks of memory, recalling experiences from the journey, from before the journey, all the way back to the first time, years and years ago, Sanzo had held out his hand to him. Back on Five Finger Mountain [1].
And I opened my eyes and saw the sun...
Afloat on that shifting sea, he slept.
--
Morning came without a solution. Goku blinked at the sunlight streaming in through the window -- he had failed to draw the curtains the night before. Then his stomach, far too aware of the fact that he had skipped dinner, snarled ferociously at him.
"I... didn't eat dinner..."
He bolted for the door and made a headlong rush for the kitchen. The cook looked up when he entered, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach, which was making enough noise to wake the dead. "Morning, Goku! I'm surprised that you weren't there at dinner..."
"I'm starving!" Goku moaned, dropping into a chair. The cook grinned, all too familiar with his antics, and dropped a plate of meatbuns in front of him. "Freshly steamed. Enjoy."
"Mmmph," Goku voiced his thanks around the mouthful.
"I'm surprised that you didn't follow Sanzo-sama, this time."
He froze, a meatbun halfway to his mouth. "Follow?"
"You don't know? Sanzo-sama left last night for Chun Xiang. He said that he'd be a few days, maybe 3 or 4."
"He... left?" Emotions warred in him at that realization. "He left without me?"
"You were locked in your room all night, Goku."
"I..." He recalled the knocking, Sanzo's yells for him, his voice tinged with impatience and a sense of urgency...
"He'll be alright," Goku said, mustering a smile. "He's gone off without me before. Was it the Three Aspects?"
"Apparently. Some order about investigating the recent spate of youkai attacks. Nothing serious, I trust."
Goku nodded. Maybe it's for the best, a voice told him. Let us sort out our feelings before we talk again. Maybe he'll have forgotten about it, and I can think of a backup plan... or just... drop the issue entirely...
"How far is Chun Xiang?" he asked.
"Slightly over a day's travel, on horseback."
"North?" he hazarded a guess.
"South. Near the border."
"Oh." Not in the direction of Gojyo's residence, then. Which meant that Sanzo really was going on his own this time.
He tried not to feel betrayed by that. Sanzo did embark on trips without taking anyone but himself, his gun, and his gold credit card... And truly, nothing serious had cropped up since their return from Tenjiku. Except that he'd never walked off after a quarrel of this magnitude.
You should have talked to him yesterday, his inner voice chided him.
It's too late, he snapped back.
"I guess... I'll take the time to visit some friends, then. I'll be back before he returns," Goku decided, polishing off the last of his massive breakfast. He stacked the latest plate onto the pile with the rest.
"Hakkai and Gojyo?" the other asked, familiar with the company that he kept.
"Yep."
--
It would have been faster, and definitely less tiring, if he had a Jeep. But, no, the Three Aspects gave Jiipu to Hakkai [2], and left their errand boy to saddle a horse and 'proceed with all speed' to a damn village over a day's travel away...
It didn't help that the summons arrived in the evening, leaving him barely an hour of travel time before sundown, and the prospect of a night in the open.
Of course, he could have requested the loan of Jiipu from Hakkai, which would have come complete with a driver and some levelheaded backup if he ran into trouble... but Hakkai was in the north, just the direction that he wasn't travelling in. And it would have taken far too much time to ride out north and come doubling back, Jeep or no Jeep.
I hate you, he swore at the gods in a moment of self-indulgence.
Sanzo pressed on, even after the sun had set, following the road out of the city. He had passed the outskirts sometime back, and was into what used to be farmland before the whole Minus Wave nonsense three years back. Now the fields lay untended and overgrown, with no humans daring to venture far from the protected walls of the city. No humans, excepting one dumb priest, he mused.
Youkai territory was everything outside the walls of a city, town or village.
But it seemed to be clear, this night, with no youryoku to trouble his sixth sense. A large part of the youkai had retained their sanity, but some, either because of a real insanity or simple, innate bloodlust, continued their roving quest for human flesh and blood. And then there were the highly intelligent youkai, some of whom had determined that the glory of all youkai-dom was better achieved by the eradication of humankind.
So on it went: the killings, the fighting, the slaughtering.
He opted for a stop sometime past midnight, in an abandoned roadhouse. The occupents were long gone -- evacuated and fled for the city, it seemed, since there was no taint of blood on the interior. But it was a shelter, and in the event of an attack, a reasonable defensible position.
He tethered the horse by the door and, with his Smith and Wesson by his side, settled for an uneasy doze in an abandoned chair.
-
He set out again at first light, aiming to reach his destination before sundown that day. Even with a youkai exorcism gun, he wasn't keen on spending the night in territory known to be youkai infested.
The sun rose on a day that passed without incident, and Sanzo reached the perimeter of Chun Xiang just as the sky was turning red. The guards let him in without question. The journey west had succeeded in spreading his fame, and that of his companions', from shore to shore. There wasn't a single soul in Togenkyo who didn't recognize him, Genjo Sanzo, the single surviving Sanzo, the undisputed authority throughout the land.
And the one remaining errand boy of the Powers That Be, he thought skeptically.
Chun Xiang was a prosperous village, as they went. It was large enough to be considered a small town, housing several hundred residents. In recent years, its numbers had been bolstered by refugees from the rural districts and other, ravaged villages.
It wasn't difficult to find an inn, and, wearied by a day's hard travel, he opted to hole up for the night in favor of beginning inquiries.
Sleep eluded him, which he put down to the illusive trace of youryoku in the area. Youkai were on the prowl that night, not quite in Chun Xiang yet, but close.
Would they attack, he wondered. If this was an organized youkai clan, they might have garnered word of his arrival -- which could tip the scales in either direction. Certainly, if they thought that they could ambush the town and kill him, they would try. Otherwise, they might abandon the offensive entirely.
He frowned, studying the reports by candlelight once more. The last attack, involving explosives to bring down the stockade that surrounded the town, followed by an sweep on the town center and an organized retreat, suggested that this wasn't simply a case of youkai gone mad in the aftermath of the Minus Wave. Which simply compounded the problem. Rogue youkai were a threat, but their elimination was relatively justifiable -- they were not loved by either side. But mediated slaughter by sane youkai elements... would fuel the movement to wipe every youkai off the face of the earth, crazed or otherwise. Which in turn would fuel the youkai movement for human genocide.
The solution, in simple terms, would be to step in and stop both sides from fighting. The question was how.
And sending me, of all people, to deal with this. As if the youkai don't hate -- or want -- my guts, already.
If only everyone would just think, for a change. Or not think. Morons, all...
Somehow, that train of thought made him think of Goku. He clapped a hand over his face, remembering the explosive confrontation and, superimposed over that, Goku's earnest proclaimation that night at the lake : My place is with you.
But the saru wasn't here, nevermind his vows to protect him. The saru was probably sulking in Chou'An, and, one fervently hoped, forgetting about the incident altogether. Given his short attention span, his mind would turn to new topics within the week.
...Right?
Because I love you.
Sanzo suppressed a groan. Alright, so the boy hadn't been brought up with the goal of seeking the middle path... but if he'd known that Goku was going to get this infatuated, he would never have freed him from that mountain.
It called to mind a certain disciple, who'd pursued him to the extent of obsession... whom he'd been forced to kill, at the bitter end. That was where obsession went -- not to the light, as one might have imagined, but to the darkness, ending on a bullet or youkai claws in the night.... [3]
Look where it got me, he thought bitterly.
It was late. He snuffed out the candle and headed for bed. If the youkai attacked, he would simply kill the lot for waking him up...
-
He was back at Kinzan temple. Logically, he knew that the temple lay in ruins, perhaps burnt to the ground by the youkai... yet here he was, with the strange surrealism of dreams, walking across the grounds again. Not his younger self, all of thirteen years old, but as an adult, as if he had truly, physically, returned.
It was empty. He'd expected as much. Dust lay in a thick blanket across everything -- even the altar, which it would never have, if there was still life on the grounds. The leaves, which he had painstakingly swept away, autumn after autumn, formed a carpet across the ground outside. He frowned, peeved by the sight.
He found the broom exactly where he always left it, out by the back, and picked it up. It was shorter than he remembered, lighter, and more worn. Grasping it, he took a tentative swipe at the offensive leaf litter.
Movement at the corner of his vision caught his attention, and he spun. In the clear sky overhead, a single paper aeroplane struggled for height, then caught the breeze and sailed, an orange dagger cutting across the blue.
"What is freedom?"
Sanzo turned, seeking the source of that voice, at once familiar and beloved. He saw them nearby, his younger self, standing by the porch, and Koumyou Sanzo, his mentor, seated. A stack of orange paper rested on the wooden floor.
"A place to return to," he answered.
His master turned, and his gaze fell on him from afar. That knowing gaze, the slight smile, the wisdom of the gods behind his eyes... it was exactly as he remembered.
"Indeed, such is freedom of the body," his master said, talking to him -- him, Genjo Sanzo, not the youth Kouryuu. "But what is freedom of the soul?"
He started to reply, then fell silent, stumped. If freedom was not the skies, then, similarly...
"I don't know," he replied simply.
"You do know it," Koumyou Sanzo told him, still smiling that sad, gentle smile. "But you have yet to accept it. The answer, Genjo Sanzo, lies within, not without."
And then the dream was fading, seemingly solid walls turning to mist. He called out uselessly, trying to hold the strands together, but to no avail. He fell through grey, and plummeted into darkness.
***
TBC
***
[1] Five Finger Mountain -- Mountain on which Goku was imprisoned. The name is a translation from Chinese, from the original Journey to the West legend. The japanese name escapes me at the moment.
[2] It's not stated explicitly in the manga or the anime that Hakuryuu/Jiipu was a gift from the Three Aspects, but neither is it stated how Hakkai acquired everyone's favorite white dragon. I'm taking a shot of artistic license here. ^_^
[3] Dougan, from Gensomaden Saiyuki : The movie, Requiem.
--
Chapter 5 – War
Water dripped from his bangs, causing them to cling to his face and fall heavily into his eyes. Water was also trickling down the back of his neck, seeping between leather and skin and trapping it there. Water turned the black robe that he wore into what felt like a suit of full battle armor that, unfortunately, didn’t provide any protection whatsoever while providing massive impediments to his movements.
Rain, Genjo Sanzo Houshi had decided a long time ago, was the bane of his life.
-
Right now, life involved a lot of skulking around in the jungles around Chun Xiang, a sodden scarf wrapped tightly around his mouth to keep the warmth in and to stop his breath from forming clouds that would give his location away. His pistol was clutched in one hand, its silver finish invisible underneath the layer of hastily applied charcoal. Skulking. And sneaking. He hadn’t become a Sanzo to do this shit.
Another rivet of water found its way through his collar and down his back, and he had to resist the urge to curse vehemently and swat at him. It was fucking freezing, nevermind that this gods forsaken jungle was way too hot at other times, which just went to show that even the climate had suffered the effects of the Minus Wave.
He could have murdered Gyuumaou all over again.
For now, though, he concentrated on inching his way across the jungle floor, following the trail that the villagers in front of him were diligently clearing. They had been running around in this place for weeks now, first hunting down the supply lines and ruthlessly destroying them, then to cut off the wave of youkai reinforcements that had come to their compatriots aid, and then, with the youkai leadership still refusing to come to terms, he’d pulled together a team to strike right at the heart of the youkai encampment.
…It was a tried and tested strategy. It had worked against Gyuumaou and all the legions of Tenjiku, after all.
Fires blossomed in the distance, furiously defying the continual drizzle. Some other diversion team had found its mark, then. His own team members turned and grinned at each other, inching forward with slightly more enthusiasm before.
Sanzo planted an elbow in the mud, trying to lever himself forward. The elbow slipped. The scarf was the only thing that saved him from getting a faceful of muck. He decided, at that moment, that he hated mud even more than he hated the rain.
The younger of his team members signaled back with a thumbs up and a grin. The face of white teeth in the gloom reminded Sanzo all too sharply of someone he had left behind, someone he had diligently been trying to avoid thinking about for weeks. Someone who claimed he loved him.
Someone who had no fucking clue what love meant.
His jaw ached from being clenched.
Two hundred meters, the kid in front of him signaled, which Sanzo acknowledged with a curt nod. Two hundred meters more, and then this would all be over, and he could go home.
As the lights of the youkai encampment came into view, he wondered when he had started thinking of Chou’An as home.
--
Rain fell, cascading off the red tiled temple roof in tiny waterfalls.
Rain fell, shattering the surface of the koi pond in the garden.
Rain fell, putting a chill in the air that soured his mood.
Goku pulled the blanket closer around his shoulders, and viciously ripped another page off the calendar.
Six weeks.
The paper crunched as his fingers curled around it.
Six weeks and he’s still not back. And still no word except that the situation in Chun Xiang is under control.
He could feel his fingernails digging into his palm, even through the flimsy material crushed in his hand.
Six weeks.
He took a deep breath, feeling his chest constrict at the mere thought of Sanzo.
Six weeks, and he had spent the first two trying to convince himself that he hated the priest. That he could never love someone so fiendishly cold hearted, so egoistically self centered, someone whose heart had long since turned to stone and could never turn back.
By the third week, he’d been dreaming of the sun again.
By the fourth week, he had taken to watching the road into Chou’An Ji.
By the fifth week, the sun of his dreams had turned into Sanzo himself, standing by his side as they stood on some nameless plateau, overlooking Tenjiku castle. And Sanzo would turn to him, and smile, a single, heart-stopping gesture directed at him, and him alone.
And now six weeks had passed, and he was sodding furious.
He closed his eyes, trying to calm down. Sanzo would come back a changed man, he told himself. Sanzo would come back, having not seen him for so long, and draw him close, and tell him that he hadn’t meant all those words. Hakkai was convinced that Sanzo would change, given time. Hakkai was never wrong, and surely if you loved someone enough, that person would turn around and love you back.
“Non-attachment,” he growled, “Is a lie. I’ll show you.”
After all, they had a bond, didn’t they? Something that not even Hakkai and Gojyo had. Sanzo heard him. They were divinely joined by Heaven, mind linked, soul partners, and surely even Sanzo had to realize that. Surely, if there was anyone destined to draw the priest out of the pain of the past, it would had to be him.
You drew me out of the dark. It’s my turn.
And when he succeeded, the world would be perfect.
And he’d lean close, coaxing a smile from lips that only ever seemed to sport a frown or a humorless smirk. Sanzo would taste of cigarettes and beer, he decided, and green tea. And air and light and freedom. And the warmth of the sun would wash into his very soul, driving away all those nightmares of the dark, and he’d never be alone again.
-v-
The sutras settled back upon his shoulders, still tingling with power. Maten, Seiten. Uten, Muten. And the one on whose tremendous power he had just called to level an entire enemy camp – Kouten, the Eternal Sutra.
He tugged the scarf off his face, smirking as he did so. The worst of the troublemakers completely wiped out in a single move, with enough survivors to bring the tales of horrific destruction back to their leaders. The message was resoundingly clear, especially with him standing there: Heaven to Earthbound troublemakers: Back the fuck off.
And, he thought, a tad smugly, my work here is done.
There would be negotiations soon, youkai and human meeting to hammer out the peace treaty. But for now the youkai army was in full retreat, so severely battered that it would likely be decades before they could even hope to reach their former strength. And at this juncture, one drenched and exhausted priest could make his way back to Chou’An…
…or he could stay and make sure that peace actually happened.
What is freedom? a stray thought whispered across his mind.
He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath to calm the sudden shudder that wracked his frame.
“I love you, you know,” he whispered to the pouring rain, fingers entwining themselves with the silken material of the sutras. “I loved you enough to set out to regain the sutras. Loved you enough to stain my entire life with blood, just to avenge your death.”
Gods, and where had that left him? A sodden figure standing in the rain, with all the power of the world at his fingertips, whose name was indelibly stamped across every province and whispered by every human and youkai …
Somewhere, somehow, he had turned into everything that Koumyou wasn’t. And the sting of rain against his face, echoing that distant, distant night, reminded him that none of this had given him the one thing that he wanted.
You’re not coming back, are you? I’ve avenged you. I’ve avenged you a thousand times over. I’ve drenched the world with blood, retrieved your sutras, grown into the office you gave me to bear, and yet… yet…
Yet…
His hand fell limply to his side.
And the rain continued to pour down, relentless.
Chapter 6 – Return
Chou’An loomed into view, all golden and shining in the light of the evening sun. Damn, but he was glad to be done with this journey. Weeks of negotiation, of knocking both side’s heads together, of threatening bloody murder. Weeks of soggy cigarettes and bad accommodation, all eerily reminiscent of the Journey. Weeks of bad sleep, where he would drift into dreams he didn’t quite remember, but which left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth in the morning, and the general sense of unease.
He was getting too old for this shit.
Something wasn’t quite right, and it certainly wasn’t the treaty. The treaty was fine, picture perfect, one of the best pieces of work he had ever done.
Grey skies and autumn leaves.
Sunlight on gold.
There would be sake tonight, he vowed to himself. And he would sit by the window and watch the moon, and drink himself into the state where no dreams would come.
Gravel crunched under his feet as he dismounted, handing his horse off to one of the stable hands. He nodded impatiently at the cries of welcome, sweeping past the bowing and scraping acolytes, brushing off their queries as to whether the great Sanzo-sama needed anything, and headed off at a quick trot. Fully intending to get straight to his rooms, and plunge into the bath for a long and badly needed soak.
That particular plan fell short just a dozen steps from his goal.
“Sanzo.”
A boy stood in his way, all glittering gold eyes and a stubborn set to his jaw. It looked like Goku, alright, but Goku’s tone had never been so abruptly with him, nor those eyes alight with angry directed his way. Goku had never blocked his path, shoulders squared and clearly provoking a fight, hands clenched and disapproval written all over his face.
“What?” he demanded, curt.
“You’ve had three months, one week and five days to think about it. What do you think?”
Shit. Neither forgiven nor forgotten. And the kid… was obsessed. Definitely. “Exactly what I thought three months, one week and five days ago,” he snapped back. “Did I give you the impression that my mind was going to change?”
Anger flashed to hurt in those oh-too-readable eyes. Hurt and disappointment and dashed hope, and for a moment Sanzo thought he was going to burst into tears all over again. But as he watched, something darkened in Goku’s face, some resolution rising to the fore.
“You really are selfish,” Goku said, his voice low. “Would it kill you to, for once, be something other than a cold bastard?”
Gods, but he was too tired for this shit. “If you think you can force someone to love you, you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.”
“Idiot?” fury flared through that single word, lacing Goku’s tone with fire. “Who’s the idiot here? You’re the one who’s caught up in some stupid philosophy that everyone agrees is bullshit. You’re the one who doesn’t understand a thing – never tried to understand a thing. You’re so bloody selfish that you’re caught up in your own stupid little world, so caught up that it’s beyond you to show nice for a change!”
He had to have been rehearsing that speech for the longest of times, Sanzo reflected sourly. There were probably drafts in his trashcan.
“Come back and yell at me when you know what the hell you’re talking about,” he returned coolly. “Or better still, don’t come back and yell at all.”
“That’s how it is, isn’t it? You’re just going to brush me off. Like you’ve always brushed me off. After all that I’ve done for you. After all the times that I’ve fought beside you, fought for you, saved your life… doesn’t that count for anything, you ungrateful bastard? And did you ever say thank you? Hell, no. ‘Stop getting in the way’, maybe. ‘That was idiotic’, quite often. Oh yeah, and ‘I never asked for your help’ was a favorite, wasn’t it?” Goku had shoved himself up in his face, and now that the boy had finally attained his growth spurt, he was almost at eye level with himself.
“But you know what? Just because you didn’t ask for help doesn’t entitle you to be an asshole about it when someone freely offers you that help!”
It was a sign of the times, maybe. A couple of years ago, he would have taken the harisen to the boy’s head and hit repeatedly until the stupid notions had all fallen out. But that no longer worked – that hadn’t worked for a while, and…
Damnit, he was just going to have to do this the hard way.
-
Goku’s eyes widened in surprise as Sanzo lunged, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and dragging him into his room, slamming the door shut behind him. The boy started struggling as the click of the lock echoed after them, then froze in shock as Sanzo rammed him up against the wall. He was soft and pliant underneath as he kissed him brutally, hard enough to bruise inexperienced lips, biting down viciously with no thought for gentleness.
“Is this what you wanted?” Sanzo growled softly, fingers sliding to the belt buckle and ripping it away, descending to the button and zipper of the jeans below that.
When there was no response, he pressed his lips to Goku’s own again, ruthlessly thrusting his tongue into the mouth beyond, even as he tore the boy’s pants open, reaching in to squeeze—
--he heard the hitch, the change in breathing, which gave him the time to duck aside as Goku instinctively struck back. The fist sailed past his head, the wrist that he had pinned against the wall breaking his grip easily. The knee intended for his stomach hit his robes instead, and he was across the room, reaching for but not drawing the pistol, even as Goku stumbled forward, gasping.
“You… you…”
Shock, which dilated his pupils until they nearly swallowed the irises. Shock and betrayal and hurt.
“I thought not,” Sanzo sneered. “You prattle on about love with no thought for the consequences.”
The boy’s senses snapped back into place, as his mind returned from wherever it had been. “That wasn’t love, damnit! That was—“
“You have no idea what love is,” Sanzo cut him off calmly. “You think love is about what you want. For me to cuddle you? To whisper sweet nothings into your ear? To tag along in your path like a puppy, feeding you adoring looks and vowing to do anything for you? Have you ever, ever considered that love could be about what I want?”
He wanted for an answer. All that punctuated the silence was the sound of Goku’s ragged breathing.
Seconds passed and turned into minutes.
When it was evident that no reply was forthcoming, he let himself out of the room, and walked away from it all.
-v-
“Kouryuu…”
“Oshou-sama.” He turned from where he had been standing, amidst ever shifting mist upon an endless field of grey. “Oshou-sama…”
Blood ran across the palms of his hands, bleeding from the sutras that he grasped desperately. “I got the sutras. I brought them back…” his voice had changed – it was high pitched and breathy, scratchy in its desperation. “Take them, please!”
White robes billowing in spectacular contrast from the dreariness. Warm hands closing around his own, steadying them even as they shock violently. But not relieving him of his burden. Never relieving him of it.
“Wasn’t this what you wanted?” he asked. “Didn’t you want me to get them back?” He looked up, but the light was against him, and Koumyou’s face was shrouded in darkness. Unreadable. Distant.
Disapproving.
“I was wrong, wasn’t I?” he found himself whispering. “You didn’t want me to do that.”
And still Koumyou did not reply.
“Tell me! Tell me what you wanted me to do! Tell me what you want me to do!”
His voice, his young thirteen year old voice, echoed through the mist, ringing with fervor and desperation. And at last his master shifted, and light sprang from nowhere to fall upon that face, that dearly loved face…
Koumyou was smiling, sad but peaceful, with no sign of condemnation whatsoever.
“I love you,” Sanzo said. “I love you and I can’t love Goku because the only one I want, the only one I ever wanted by my side was… is… you…”
And finally, finally, Koumyou Sanzo spoke, and his voice was just as he had remembered it, strong enough to reach into his battered soul and warm the remnants therein.
And Sanzo snapped awake with those words echoing in his heart.
Tears tracked, unnoticed, down his face, as he turned to stare, unseeing, out of the window.
--
It was perhaps dawn when Goku turned up. Sanzo had been awake for hours, unable to return to sleep. The ashtray beside him overflowed with spent cigarettes, and a cup of green tea was clutched firmly in his hand. Not sake. He needed the clarity of mind to think, to sort out the jumble knot of pain that had formed in his chest.
The intrusion, while not unexpected, was certainly unwelcomed at this tumultuous time.
“What is it?” he asked harshly.
Goku froze in the doorway, the glint of light off his limiter the only illumination in the room. Then he gulped, inching all the way in and shutting the door behind him. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”
“Oh?” he cast aside the cigarette, reaching for another. Light blossomed in the darkness as he lit it, enough to see Goku shifting nervously from foot to foot.
“If it’s sex that you want…” the boy’s voice was soft, uncertain, hesitant.
And Sanzo sighed, an exhale of smoke that reached up to curl across the surface of the moon.
“I said I’ll do anything for you,” Goku continued. “I meant it. I love—“
That word again.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Sanzo asked.
There was only a confused silence.
His master’s lips moving, saying the words he knew but didn’t want to hear…
“Love isn’t about what you think the other wants.”
“I… I don’t understand.”
Sanzo turned to face him. “Has it ever occurred to you just to ask what I want?”
He got it then. He must have. He wasn’t that stupid. “I… I’m sorry. What… do you want?”
Kouryuu, Koumyou said.
The cigarette fell from his fingers, spiraling end over end, a light spinning towards infinity. Koumyou stood before him again, those calm, kind words falling like freezing rain upon his heart…
“Do you,” his lips moved in time with the phantom’s, even as he felt his heart break, “love me enough to let me go?”
-v-
Chapter 7 – Beyond
Someone knocked on the door just as the sun was setting. Hakkai looked up from the armchair that he had fallen asleep in, a blanket across his knees and the book he had been reading dropped carelessly on the floor.
“I’ll get it,” Gojyo said, wandering over and pulling the door open.
“Hi,” Goku said, “I should’ve sent ahead with a letter, but it was a bit rushed. Can I stay the night?”
“What the hell happened? Thought the cranky monk just got back from wherever it was? Don’t tell me he threw you out on your ass?” Gojyo stepped aside, allowing Goku to slip past and dump his huge knapsack on the ground.
“Sanzo’s back. But I’m going away for a bit.”
“He threw you out on your ass, then,” Gojyo said, at the same time Hakkai asked: “What happened?”
“He didn’t.” The boy pulled up a chair and sat, stretching out his shoulder muscles. “This is my choice.”
“Did you have some kind of fight?” Hakkai asked.
Goku ducked his head. “No. No, not really. Remember a certain discussion we had a while back?”
Gojyo slapped his forehead. “You went and had it out with him, right? Let me guess, he was his usual cranky bastard self—“
Goku held up a hand to cut him off. “He was his usual cranky bastard self, indeed. But he had a point.”
“Non-attachment?” Hakkai guessed dryly.
“Nope. Nothing he can say will convince me that that isn’t delusion and denial on his part, anyway.” Goku grinned briefly. “He pointed out that you can’t force someone to love you. And that love is given, not taken.”
Silence settled quietly upon the house, as Goku turned his attention to the window, admiring the splashes of red amidst and green and gold foliage. Another summer passing, falling slowly away.
“So it’s true, then?” he asked, when the other two still failed to marshal a reply.
“I’d kick his ass,” Gojyo said, “But I’m afraid it wouldn’t change anything. Tough luck, kiddo.”
Hakkai’s smile was sad. “I wish things had turned out otherwise.”
Goku shook his head. “Don’t feel sorry for me. Don’t you dare feel sorry for me. All of you have gone through the same thing. You’ve lost the ones you loved. And…” he paused, and the breath that he took cut something free in his heart at last, something sore and aching, and it hurt, it hurt like nothing he had ever known before, but it brought with it at last a sense of dizzying freedom, of release, of the entire world unfolding before him. “And you loved them enough to let them go. Maybe… it’s my turn to learn that.”
Gojyo ruffled his hair while Hakkai squeezed his shoulder, and Goku found his vision blurring.
“You can stay with us,” Hakkai said.
He shook his head. “I’m still a kid. There’s still so much out there to see and to do. And to learn. I don’t know anything about anything.” There would be new lands to discover, new people to meet, to talk to. The Journey had been one mad rush from once place to another, sequestered in their tiny group and hardly interacting with anyone else. But this time, he would be able to take his time, to explore, to discover. To open his world to people other than these three – whom he loved, very much, but who had their own lives, their own way of living. And their ways, he’d discovered, weren’t his ways.
It was time to make his own way.
“Yeah,” Gojyo sighed. “You deserve someone better than him.”
“Do I?” Goku asked. “He might not love me, but he cares about me. Once upon a time he would just have hit me with the fan and told me to shut up. But now he cares enough to tell me what he thinks. To teach me. He…” he paused, sorely tempted to divulge his last conversation with the priest while he had been standing on the doorstep of Chou’An, preparing to leave. But some instinct told him to hold back. That which had transpired… was for themselves alone.
Your ways are not my ways.
“Don’t give up,” Hakkai said earnestly. “You’ll find love one day.”
Goku shot him a small, secretive smile. “I haven’t. Given up, that is.”
“And if you ever need food and a place to crash… yeah. We’ll be here,” Gojyo said.
*
And he was on his own again, the road slipping quietly away. So familiar and not familiar at all – moving, but without the reassuring presence of companions at his back…
His feet brought him at last to his destination, a name whispered quietly on parting lips, a hope so fleeting, so evanescent that he didn’t even dare to think of it, lest it drive him to his knees in tears.
Chun Xiang.
And here he laid down his load, and stayed from travels.
The seasons turned quietly. He learnt of rebuilding, of the harvest, of happy days filled with sun and laughter, of good, solid hard work, and tired nights uninterrupted by nightmares. The bright colors of autumn faded along with rains, and grey mist enveloped the village in the early mornings. He shunned the story tellings in the village square in the evenings, for they always wanted news of Chou An and stories of his travels with Genjo Sanzo sama, and he could not bring himself to say those. If forced to speak, he would tell instead of places they had seen and distant lands, but even those served to drive a wedge into his heart and he would rapidly fall silent. They soon learnt not to ask him.
The mists gave way to the grip of snow and a land turned white, and the weather drove everyone indoors. Those days were the worst, for there was nothing to distract him. Nothing to do but sit by the window and think, and think, and think, until his head threatened to explode. Snow and memories, and a mountain, and a temple, and someone, standing golden between Hakkai and Gojyo, someone who had reached his hand out to him and saved him from the freezing winter, then taught him not to fear it.
The villagers whispered quietly behind his back about how sad and moody he had become, and sought to distract him. He welcomed them, for anything was better than being left alone with his thoughts. So they ventured out into this new frozen world, and they taught him how to fashion sleds of wood and go tumbling down hillsides, and to skate on the frozen river, and all the simple joys that Chou An Ji had never known.
There you found part of Heaven, the unchanging, flawless perfection, a world encased in stone and crystal and left high up on a shelf to be admired…
And somehow, amidst the snowball fights and the waves of silent grief in the middle of the night, winter slowly turned into spring.
And when snow melted for the first time and the first green returned to the world, he found that the grief too had passed.
Life began anew. They had managed to rebuild most of the village in the autumn, but now they expanded it, laying down foundations for new houses and storage sheds, while the farmers plowed the fields and prepared for a new season of planting. The kids taught him how to fold reed boats, to sail on the rivers swollen with snowmelt, but by and large, he was too involved in village matters, the construction of a stockade and meetings with representatives from nearby youkai settlements, to have any time for himself or for idle thought.
And one day, unlooked for but not uninvited, he looked up from the construction site of a new watchtower to see a single horse and its rider, shining white, coming down the road.
Those near him caught his arms as he stumbled, heart thudding so loudly in his chest that he thought he was going to faint.
Go to him, a voice said inside, while at the same time another one said, Let him come to you.
“I’m okay,” he blurted out, waving aside their concern. “But it looks like we have a visitor.”
There was great commotion after that, all of them rushing back to inform everyone else, and to muster preparations for the arrival of such an eminent personality. Which left him standing, all alone, by the gate, as the horse trotted up, and its rider dismounted.
Hair the color of burnished gold, richer than he remembered it. World weary purple eyes, that swept the surroundings and turned to him, lighting with a slight smile that wasn’t mirrored on his face.
He searched for words to say, but found none, with his jaw locked and bands around his chest.
“You’ve done a good job here,” Sanzo said.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
There was a long pause, as the wind rustled through the trees and brought the fresh scent of spring flowers to them. Behind, Goku was vaguely aware of the villagers gathering at a respectful distance.
And for the first time ever, the memory of their last parting stirred in him without eliciting its usual stab of pain.
“There’s more to the world than just love, sometimes,” Sanzo said, standing a few steps above him and infinitely far away. “Don’t go killing yourself trying to be what you think I want you to be. Go and be your own person.”
Earlier, they had sat through the grey dusk, sipping tea as Sanzo told him a story that even Hakkai and Gojyo did not know. A past long kept secret. Another life time. A mentor, two sutras, and love and loss and death.
“I wish,” Sanzo had said softly, “That he had had the chance to tell me what love was all about.”
The weak light of a cloudy dawn had cast his face in shades of grey and white, and made him seem older than Goku had ever seen him. And he had sat there, not daring even to move in case he broke the spell and Sanzo remembered who he was talking to and stopped.
“I’ve made mistakes because I didn’t know what I was doing,” Sanzo had said, staring blankly out into the distance. “You can’t trail in my shadow forever. You have to be your own person. Find your own way and your own answers. Build something of your own.” A pause, and a quiet exhale. “You should have a chance to fly before you come home to rest.”
“I’m sorry,” he had blurted out. “I’m sorry for being such a fool…”
“Don’t apologize,” Sanzo had snapped back, sounding like his old self. “You’re not the only one to blame.”
Back on the temple steps, he couldn’t even find the strength to smile. “Well then. I’ll see you around. Some day.”
Sanzo was still and silent, and he almost turned to leave, despairing of getting even an answer. He’d hefted his backpack, all ready to take his leave, when Sanzo finally stirred. “If you’re in Chun Xiang in spring,” the priest said, “Look for me. I may be there.”
“I see you took my advice,” Sanzo said at last. “I suppose this is home to you now.”
“It is,” he said, thinking of reed boats and wooden sleds. “Very much so.”
“That’s good.” Sanzo eyed the ongoing structure.
“Actually,” Goku said contemplatively, “You’re wrong. This is our village. We built it together, sorta.”
Sanzo’s attention spun back to him.
“You destroyed the weeds, broke the ground, tilled the soil, and planted the seeds. I helped to water them and nurture the saplings as they grew, one might say. Our village. Our ongoing work. Through spring and summer and autumn and winter and spring again.”
“It’s—“
“Love,” Goku said sharply, cutting him off, “Isn’t even about wanting the other person to be happy or what the other person wants. That’s too one-sided. Love is something you build together. Through the good and the bad. Love is mutual. It gives, it takes, and it needs two hands to clap. It grows, it changes, and it adapts to both sides.”
Sanzo was regarding him in wide eyed surprise now.
And Goku grinned in reply.
A golden eyebrow lifted. “I see you’ve been thinking.”
“Too much.”
“Well, so have I.”
Faint stirrings of hope beneath his breastbone, a youth’s wild exclamation on a rainy day, the ground sliding from beneath his feet and did he dare, after all this time and all those harsh lessons, let that hope take root and blossom? Did he dare to read into those words, into the lack of censure of his bold assertion? Did he—
They moved together as one, a step forward on each side to close the distance and a pause, and they were standing so close together that they could feel each other’s breath.
The hope that he had buried for two seasons rekindled in a single spark, and there was just no way he could put it down again. Dizzy with the craziness of it. He was tumbling down a snowy hillside, the wind whistling past his ears and cutting into his cheeks, and maybe he’d crash at the bottom or hit a rock and turn over, but it didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, because all there was for now was the nervous thrill, the tremulous joy, the adrenaline searing through his veins…
“Do you love me enough to take me back?” Sanzo whispered, and his breath was warm against his lips.
“Do you love me enough to take me as I am?” Goku replied.
Sanzo’s lips quirked in the tiniest of smiles.
Goku’s voice dropped until his next words were just the whisper of a whisper: “Do you love him enough to let him go?”
“Do you,” Sanzo said, reaching up and allowing his hand to hover just a hair’s breadth away from his cheek, “Love me enough to shut up?”
And hope exploded into true joy.
Sanzo’s lips were warm against his, not cold and harsh and painful like that distant night that was fading rapidly into the mists of memory. His hands were running through golden strands as they reached round to cup the back of Sanzo’s head. And there was joy, so much joy, welling up like morning breaking over the mountain tops, red and golden.
And in his mind’s eye, he reached for the sun, and it was warm in his cupped hands.
It was long, long minutes before the need for air broke them apart.
“Welcome home,” Goku said, breathless and grinning so broadly that he thought it would break his face.
Sanzo did not even bother glancing back down the road to the temple he had left behind. “Thank you.”
--
END