This story was
born out of one of the incomparable kanshu’s plot bunnies. I am not sure
if this was quite what she had in mind, but it was a train of thought that
would not let go of me. This is un-beta-ed.

Set before and
during the journey. You may wish to consider it AU-ish.

All Our Yesterdays

The rain is
already upon us. I watch as Hakkai and Goku struggle to finish tenting up. The
heavy drops hit the tarpaulin with the sound of a hail of bullets. In the
half-light, it is all shadows and the glowing embers of both our cigarettes.
You are miserable, moody and short with everyone. Even I dare not cross swords
with you tonight. You might actually use that gun. The prime candidate being
me, besides yourself. I mean you would never really shoot the kid and Hakkai
has given you no reason to yet. Me? Maybe you see me as expendable.

You hate the
rain. I see you wrap yourself up in that layer of anger tied up with the ribbon
of despair. A pretty picture you make. Heheh! You’re even making me sound…
well, not like me I guess. After all, you are the one who said to me “Blood
isn’t the only thing that’s red.” Yeah! I can say back to you “Rain washes away
dirt and grime. Makes things clean again. Feeds the earth.” I can say so to the
both of you. Not that it would change anything. You will probably shoot me
then. Like as if it were so easy to run away from the things that tie us to
this life. Anymore than Hakkai, be wholly human again. Simply put, it’s just
water, man.

I see your eyes
and they’re like the jewels of pain kept safe in the box, kind of like Mother’s
best china really. Even so, she smashed that herself at the end. She had no
reason to keep them whole anymore, she was broken, her life and her home. I
never blamed her either. Getting here today, sometimes it just feels so
tiresome. Is it already three years? It is a drop in time. We are just along
for the ride. The rain, I listen to it. Its rhythm will sing me to sleep soon
enough I’m sure. You know, it was raining back then too…

Three years ago…

I am looking up
at the sunset sky and those clouds are telling me I should hurry home. I don’t
want to get wet. No sense in catching a cold. Mother was always telling Jien
that if he spent too long in the wet, he would catch a cold. He in turn, ended
up telling me that. True or not… well you know what they say about old habits. 
As I’m hurrying, I sense someone following me.  I take a quick glance round and
I pay him no mind. He is just an old homeless guy. Harmless really. The folk
hereabouts call him Ah Li. Who he is, what his deal is, I did not know. I did
not want to know.

I had been doing
fine, living day to day. One day, all that changed. Just over three weeks ago,
I picked up a dead man. Well he wasn’t dead… yet. Though, with his wound, all
that blood and the guts on the dirt, he may as well have. To pick up a dying
man, take him home and stitch him up. As if I was some kind of Samaritan
picking up a stray with claws hidden under a glove, only the glove was the
metal cuffs on his ear. Oh, yes! I knew what they were. He had looked at me…
and that odd smile. I know the look of one ready to go to the Gods. No, I have
never seen it, but in a strange mirroring, I recognised it as a frightened sad
little boy I knew long ago. Maybe, it’s a familial trait. Being selfish. Death
would have been too easy. It is saying to whatever that brings you to such a
moment, “Alright, you win.” I was not allowed that luxury, so I was not about
to let someone else have it. I hear a roll of thunder; I want to make it before
the rain soaks me. Also, my houseguest seems to get skittish whenever the rain
comes down. I worry about him. It’s just a feeling I get.

Just as I am
about to turn a corner, I hear a sputtering cough. It is Ah Li. He is leaning
heavily against a lamppost and his head is lolling into his chest. He coughs
again. I have seen him about town, he likes watching the children play, either
on the streets or in the park. I remember asking someone if the people were
afraid that he might be some kind of pervert or something. It’s good to ask
these questions you know. I think that folk just concluded that perhaps he had
a grandchild somewhere he was not allowed to see. I had even bumped into him
once and he had backed away nervously so fast muttering, “I’m sorry,” over and
again. I tried to calm him down even but one look at me and he was off like a
shot. My guess is that it must have been the eyes and the hair. Although, there
was something else in the look he gave me. Fear, perhaps?

Maybe it is the
humidity or the currents in the air, because I am edgy tonight. We are all
alone in this world. I have my own skeletons in the closet of my past; no
doubt, Ah Li had his too. Definitely that wraith at home. He looked like he had
a horde of ‘em stashed underneath that veneer of politeness and smiles that
sometimes grated on my nerves. The niceness does not fool me; the guy is just
too good at cards. I know also about having your own crypt into which your mind
can crawl. For all that civility, he could not help but stare at the eyes and
hair as well. Caught out, I called him on it. He replied with words such as
admonishment and epiphany. Those were new and different. Unlike the whispered
knives in the back or the sneering shards, cutting the surface of the skin. “Half
breed freak show”, “Unlucky misbegotten taboo” and the like.

I realise I have
damn near chewed my last cigarette down to the end. I light another one up,
with one eye on Ah Li. I manage one drag and the man crumples to the ground.
Cursing, I go and see if I can help.

“Hey! Hey
old-timer! Are you okay?” The man is breathing but he isn’t conscious. I try to
bring him ‘round. I slap his face gently on both sides. That seemed to work.

“Wh… what?” He
is aware now but confused I think, as I breathe a sigh of relief.

“You gave me
quite a scare, you know.” I think I am certain he isn’t going to die just yet.
That just would be unlucky. I am grateful for small mercies.

“Hey Uncle! Can
I take you somewhere? Where’s home?”

“S…Squatters
Row.” He is squinting blearily at me. I was surprised that he did not reek of
alcohol.

“Well, c’mon
then.” I support him and with a firm guiding hand at his elbow, we make our
way. Squatters Row was a dried up unused canal with a wide bridge over it.
Providing excellent shelter for the homeless. It takes us about ten minutes to
get there. By the time we are ‘home’ he is trying to get away from me. It was
just gone twilight and with the rain coming, the place was bustling. It was
chaotic, but there seemed to be some sort of order amongst it.

“Ease up man!” I
did not want him to pass out again so I keep a gentle but firm hold of him.
Reluctantly he acquiesced. He leads me to his neatly stacked, steady pile of
cardboard, made into a neat little cubicle. Enough space for a pallet, a small chest
of drawers and bits here and there. A little space you can call your own. I
suppose you make do with what you can find.

“Come in, come
in. Here have a seat.” Ah Li indicated the pallet. For someone who I thought
was afraid of me, he seemed to have done a quick turnaround.

“Some tea. Yes!
Yes.” He says more or less to himself. Procuring a kettle of water from out of
thin air and set it on a little portable gas cooker.

“You’re Gojyo
right? Sha Gojyo” Pole axed. I did not think he would know my name. I should
not be surprised because many people know me, a place of this size and if you
had a reputation to upkeep as well. Maybe it was the way he asked.

“Why?” He is off
again, I am certain he did hear my counter question. He was wittering on inaudibly,
all the while making the tea and pouring it into two mugs. He set them on an
upturned crate with a little dishtowel for a cloth. Never mind edgy, I was
beginning to feel trapped.

“Look ‘ere. No
offense, but I really do have somewhere to be.” I start to get up as I speak.
“I’m glad you’re alright now, but, it’s best I head out.”

Like the
‘whoosh’ had gone out of him he stops. He whispers softly. “No, stay please.”
Head bowed, “Humour an old man.” He looks out at me from half closed eyes. “I
have a story you may like to hear.”

So there I was
and something in the catch of his voice holds me. These guys, they don’t have
anyone to talk to and I suppose I felt sorry for him. I am really not sure. I
sit back down on the pallet. The makeshift table is between us. Condensation
and smoke spirals lazily up into the air. Dispersing so slowly. Ah Li takes a
breath…

A long time
ago, nigh on thirty years now, I used to work the ferries along the Great
Yangtze. My boss was a youkai. Yuen was a brute of a person. He loved being on
the river, loved working on it and sometimes he worked customers over for a
little extra coin. He had a little family. Essentially he was a good man.
Perhaps I was the weak one.

He was very
charming in his rough way, even when he was taking money off folks. All he
needed to do really was brandish a knife; he never had to resort to violence
Except…

That one time,
about twenty years ago. I don’t even know what they were doing there at such a
time of night. A man with his wife and child. They also had a servant with
them. Well it was his haste. What possessed the man to allow such a thing?
Perhaps that was what drove the boss. Because Yuen thought, the man did not
care. He was just not thinking about his family. The child was no more than a babe.
All of about perhaps six weeks old and pale alabaster skin. A trait he shared
with his mother. And his eyes. Her eyes too. How a man so officious and pompous
have netted someone like her. The gods truly makes fools of us all.

But perhaps
it was her eyes, her skin or the wildness in all of her. Whatever it was it
beckoned to him. She was a siren’s song and he was ensnared. And I helped him.
Some part of me has always regretted it. Maybe I was under her spell too. We
were ravens courting moonlight.

He went to
her and whispered that she must not scream. He would not visit harm upon her or
her child, but she would not see her husband again. Shaking and furious, the
lady kept her tongue. More for her bairn really. We threw her man and servant
into the dark and cold river. Whether they lived or died we never found out. We
then   made our way to an abandoned hut along the river. There he left her and
her child, promising to return every two or three days. I guess she never tried
to escape, as she must have known that after the first time he tumbled with
her, she was with child. If she ever made it back, she would be disgraced and
shamed. Perhaps she thought it was better this way.

That winter
was cold, with frost on the banks and a chill that set deep in your bones.
Through it all she was silent. For all her seeming acceptance, she was still
wild. Cornered. Yuen was gentle with her all the time, especially when she was
starting to show. He even tried to get the babe to make sounds. But perhaps he
was following his mother. For not a sound he made either. He cried when he
needed his mother. She never left him. She carried him tied in a sling on her
back, and the thing that would sooth him were these red prayer beads that was
the only thing of her past that she kept.

Winter thawed
into Spring and Summer and Autumn soon followed. Winter came again and it was
already forty- two weeks since he took her to that shack and she was nearing
her time. He visited her everyday now. They had since established some sort of
routine. He would come in the early afternoon. He would sit and tell her of his
day. The bench they sat on, they would sit at opposite ends. It was not as wide
as the gulf that separated them. Sometimes he would bring me along. Those times
I kept watch over the silent child. Yuen must have sensed the day of the
birthing, for he had asked me along. In a panic when he did not see her at the
water’s edge. Rushing up towards the hut he pushed upon a bolted door. We were
about to smash the door down when screams filled the air. The blood froze in my
veins had nothing to do with early winter’s cool.

She may have
been along a while already. We broke the door down. I think he was worried that
she would harm the newborn. His child. The air caused the light to splutter and
the shadows danced. It was still and almost quiet. Her hair plastered to her
head with sweat and fever. Her first-born lay in his basket on the floor. Eyes
wide and fearful looking towards the sound where his mother was. It was the
only time I had seen her smile as she put the newborn to her breast. She was
silent again now. She signed that she wanted us to bring the older child to
her. As she held him close, the fair-haired lad was now nearly a year old, he
held out a trembling hand to his little brother. The babe instinctively made a
grab for it. It was only then that I noticed that babe’s hair and eyes. It was
the colour of autumn sunsets.

I do not realise
that I am holding my breath. I notice only then that somewhen along the story,
Ah Li had lit a kerosene lamp for light. I suddenly realise it is raining
already. My throat is dry and it is as if I am frozen in time. The tale is
captivating. To me at least. A part of me does not want to know anymore. I feel
compelled to stay. I light up again. I see that the ashtray is a third full
now. I scrutinise Ah Li and he is far away. Back in the time of his story. He
is looking my way, but I do not think he sees me. I am duty bound somehow to
listen to the end…

Her body was
weak from the birth. She was insistent on suckling the newborn though it sapped
her body’s energy. Something has changed that day. They were both afraid now.
He was afraid that she might still wish harm upon his child. She in turn
probably feared for her first child now that she had borne him a son. What was
in that tired and fevered mind of hers? The fight in her seemed to have been
lost with her cries. She never recovered her strength. The light fading from
her. She lasted just over two months. It was the dawn of the New Year, when Yuen
came early with presents for the boys. I had come along too, since New Year was
a time for children. He panicked when he saw her lying still, on the banks of
the river. Then he thought of the children. Rushing into the little lean-to he
was relieved to find the little baby wrapped up warmly, there was no sign of
the other boy.

Meanwhile I
had brought her back inside. She was barely alive. I did not think she would
last much longer. A day or two at the most I thought. All that day and the next
he tried in vain to look for the fair-haired boy. She passed on and still no
sign of him. Yuen charged me to look after the baby for a couple of days. Then
he took the baby away to his lawful wife. I think he took to drinking heavily
after that and one day he simply disappeared. Maybe it was guilt or regret, and
sadness. Maybe he was grieving. There was nothing left to remind him of the
wild and moonlit beauty, silent to the last. Except for the baby. Neither of
them could face the child. His wife was stronger and for a time took care of
him even loved him maybe. Slowly she too lost it; and I am sorry for that. For
I think she did try for a while. She too was a beautiful woman. Grounded and
earthy.

Nowadays I
watch the children. They teach us things we have forgotten.

“Smoking is bad
for your health you know!” Ah Li chides me as he ended his narrative. My legs
are cramping. I have to stretch them, and soon.

Maybe I should
have something to say to him words of contrition or absolution. I don’t know I
am not exactly religious. Perhaps this was a confession of sorts.

“His name was
Sha. Sha Yuen.” The name pierced the night and twisted me inside, “and you are
his son.” I think I need some air. I crush the half-smoked cigarette. I stand
up to quick I think, for I have to wait a few moments before I am steady again.
           

“Well, that is a
pretty tale indeed. Uncle, I’m glad you’re ok. I gotta go okay. Take care of
yourself and rest up alright?”

The rain is not
so heavy. If I hurry now I will only get a little damp. I stalk off into the
evening. The humidity has lightened somewhat and there is a slight breeze. I
pull up the collar of my shirt and shrug further into it. Maybe I can hide
then. I hope my houseguest does not worry overmuch. He knows of my habit to stay
out late so really it is still early.

“Ah, Gojyo-san.
Are you alright? You are wet.” The quiet voice greets me.

“Yeah, I’m fine,
just got caught in the rain.” I say flippantly. “Listening to fairy-tales,” is
what I don’t say. Maybe he picks up something in my manner, because he is
giving me a searching look. He kept his peace, to each his own, I guess…

The tent is up
now. I am out of smokes. Nothing left for it, but sleep I guess. I can see you
still staring into the rain. What ghosts haunt you?

I remember when
you come with Goku in tow. That time you were looking for Hakkai. No, he was
Gonou then.

“Hang on a
minute. I wanna go too.”* Perhaps I had had enough of being left behind. It was
not just that I did not want someone I took the effort of rescuing to die, just
like that. Yeah! Maybe I did not want to be left behind.

Would I ever
tell you that tragic tale of a woman who was moonlight, of whom nothing remains
but a stone cairn somewhere on the banks of the Lower Reaches? Maybe. What
would be the point? It wouldn’t change anything. Who we are. Not what we have
to do and certainly not what you have to do. Eh, Sanzo? It’s sort
of nice maybe. I guess it will just be my secret for now. “Sorry Goku.” I
whisper in the boy’s direction. I lay myself down, and hope that tomorrow dawns
bright and sunny. I don’t mind the rain, but too much of it does put a damper
on things.

End