Out of Sync
by Helena Handbasket

            “Perhaps we should start with the reason why you’re here.”

            The implied question was met with four blank expressions.  Goku fidgeted, plucking at the upholstery, his cape, and the hem of his trousers, rarely taking his eyes from the floor.  On his left, Sanzo just stared, his eyes fixed in a penetrating, soul-melting gaze.  Next to him, Hakkai sat placidly with legs crossed and hands folded in his lap, while at the end of the sofa, Gojyo’s gaze roved across the bookshelves, the framed diplomas, the windows… everything but their intended point of focus.

            “Family counseling is a group effort.  You’ve taken the first step by coming to me, but the work is only just beginning.”  More silence.  The therapist sighed and removed his spectacles, rubbing away the smudges on his tie.  He’d collected a great deal of information in the individual interviews, and each one of these men qualified as mentally ill on some level.  But interplay was the key to dissecting their dysfunctional relationship.  He flipped open his notebook, where he had jotted down some of the most prominent issues.  Ganymede Complex.  Oedipus Complex.  Apollo Complex.  Co-dependence.  Self-loathing.  Anger management.  Arrested development.  Sexual repression.  Nymphomania.  Obsessive-compulsive disorder.  White Knight Syndrome.  Perfectionism.  Binge eating.  And that was just the tip of the iceberg.  It was a lot of ground to cover in an hour, especially if none of them was willing to talk.  “Surely there must be something that prompted you to come to me; some disharmony in your group dynamic?”

            “Well,” began Hakkai hesitantly, “we’ve been somewhat… out of sync recently.”  The others stared at him, either impressed with his bravery at breaking the ice or disgusted at his weakness in being the first to crack.  Hakkai had been by far the most relaxed in the individual session, but the therapist had not yet determined whether he was as open and artless as he appeared or a truly gifted compulsive liar.

            “Out of sync.  What do you mean by that?”

            “What do you think he means?” Gojyo grumbled.  “We’re off our game, man.”

            “Can you give me an example?”

            Gojyo and Hakkai exchanged a look, but before either of them could speak, Goku blurted out, “Well for one thing… we were fighting demons this morning, okay?  And Sanzo shot me.”

            “He always shoots at you, dumbass.”

            “Not at me, roach, me.  He shot me.  Look!”  Goku rolled onto his hip, crowding into Sanzo’s personal space, and gestured at a dark stain on the ravaged right thigh of his pants, which had left a deep red smear on the arm of the beige sofa.

            “Great,” Sanzo muttered, regarding the stain with greater concern than the bullet wound.  Turning to the therapist, he said, “You gonna charge us for that?”

            “Ah… No… no, it’s okay.  It’s… scotch-guarded.”

            With a sniff, the monk shoved his young companion back into place, and reacted with resentful surprise when he caught the therapist looking at him expectantly.  At length he muttered, “I barely grazed him.”

            “Yeah,” protested Goku, “but like Gojyo said, you shoot at me all the time, but you never actually hit me.  Your aim was off, man.”

            “Maybe you just didn’t dodge fast enough.”

            “That’s bullshit.  I always dodge fast enough.”

            “Then blame Hakkai.  He always throws up a barrier if a bullet gets too close to you, and he sure as hell didn’t do that today.”

            Hakkai looked at him in mild affront.  “You didn’t ask me to.”

            “I never do.”

            With a sigh, Hakkai bowed his head in acknowledgement of the failure and said, “You’re right.  I should have been more attentive.  I guess I was just distracted.”

            “And why were you distracted?” the therapist probed.

            “I…”  He looked at Gojyo, who answered for him.

            “Because we weren’t connecting today.  Something was off.  It’s usually: kill three demons, back to back, kill three demons, back to back.  Boom, boom, boom, back.  But it wasn’t happening like that today.  He was killing them too fast, or I was killing them too slow… we weren’t meeting up.  So then I didn’t have his back, and one of those bastards…”

            “It wasn’t your fault, Gojyo.  I should have noticed him.  Besides, Sanzo took him out in time.”

            “Yeah, and he shot you in the process, the jackass.”

            “Well, my shoulder was blocking his target.”

            “Wait, wait,” interjected the therapist.  “He shot you also?”

            Paying him no heed, Sanzo growled at Gojyo, “Meanwhile, his carelessness and your sluggishness forced me to take my attention away from the guy I was fighting.”

            “Hey, now,” Gojyo retorted.  “I took him out for you.”

            “I would have preferred if you’d done that before he stabbed me.”

            “Picky, picky.”

            The therapist looked Sanzo up and down but saw no sign of injury.  “You were stabbed?  Where?”

            “None of your fucking business.  Anyway, Hakkai healed me, so you needn’t fear for your precious couch.”  He shifted uncomfortably, taking the weight off of his left buttock.

            Scratching his head, the therapist regarded them uncertainly.  “Er…”

            “My work was inexpert, I’m afraid,” said Hakkai remorsefully.  “You’ll have a permanent scar.”

            Gojyo scoffed.  “Who cares?  Like anyone ever catches a gander at his pasty white…”

            “Shut the fuck up,” Sanzo snarled.  “You’re the only one who didn’t lose any blood today, and I’m fully prepared to rectify that.”

            “Actually, Goku clocked me on the head with a backswing while we were covering you guys.  I’m pretty sure he broke the skin.”

            “I don’t care, you fucking…”

            “Do you sometimes feel overwhelmed by rage, Mr. Sanzo?”  the therapist inquired.  Interruption was clearly his only hope.

            “What?!”

            “It’s a simple question.”

            Sanzo bristled and folded his arms.

            “It won’t hurt to open up a little,” suggested Hakkai.

            “Yeah, tightwad.  This therapy is costing us an arm and a leg.  Do you know how many cartons of smokes we could have bought with this money?”

            “Fine.”  Sanzo lifted his chin primly.  “Yes, I get angry sometimes.  But it’s necessary.”

            “Is it also necessary to verbally and physically abuse your comrades?”
            The monk considered for a moment before begrudgingly answering, “Yes.”

            “Ah.  Okay.  Moving on.  During the individual interviews, a few of your comrades mentioned that you get irritable when it rains, do you feel this is accurate?”

            “Why are we focusing on me all of a sudden?”  When the therapist merely stared placidly back, Sanzo glared at his companions and said, “Maybe a little.  Did they tell you why?”

            “No.  They didn’t tell me why, but I suspect it’s because they don’t know.  Furthermore, I suspect that the one companion that does know is also the only one that didn’t mention this trait.”

            Sanzo narrowed his eyes and gave a brief nod to Hakkai, who acknowledged it by glancing at the ceiling.

            “Why did you confide in him and only him?”

            After a pause, Sanzo muttered, “Because he can keep his trap shut.  Apparently it was a good call.”

            “Do you always guard your personal life so closely?”

            “Yes.”

            All right then.  The therapist’s gaze scanned the occupants of the couch, seeking out his next target.  “Mr. Gojyo, you seem taken aback by this revelation.  Are you wounded because Mr. Sanzo opened up to Mr. Hakkai but not to you?”

            “I don’t give a rat’s ass what that asshole does.”

            The truth was there, but only partially.  “So why are you so perturbed?”

            Gojyo folded his arms and refused to answer.  He’d come back to that issue later.

            “And you, Mr. Goku.  Are your feelings hurt that Mr. Sanzo didn’t confide in you?”

            “I guess…” he said, casting a sidelong glance at the monk.  “A little.  But I understand why he chose Hakkai.  I just wish he felt comfortable talking to me… us.  We’ve been through a lot.  He should know he can trust us by now.”

            “Do you envy the intimacy such confidences engender?”

            “Um… what?”

            Rolling his eyes, Gojyo translated, “He means does it bother you to think that Sanzo spilled the beans while his hand was down Hakkai’s pants.”

            “That’s not exactly what I…  I was talking about emotional intimacy… Spiritual…”

            “Ew!” cried Goku, ignoring the therapist completely to stick his tongue out at Gojyo.  “You’re such a pervert!”

            “I’m the pervert?!  You play with yourself in your sleep.”

            “Do not!”

            “Hi, I room with you, ape.  You don’t.”

            “Are you even listening to yourself?” Sanzo demanded, leaning forward to block the indignant Goku from Gojyo’s field of view. “What you just said doesn’t even make sense.”

            “I have to agree with Sanzo here.  Each one of us rooms with himself by definition.”

            “Et tu, Hakkai?  Why are you always taking his side?  I know he’s never had his hand down your pants.  You’re not his type, being a person and all.”

            “I’m just taking the side of logic, Gojyo.”

            “Whaddya mean, ‘person’?”

            “I mean not a monkey.”

            “Huh?”

            “You’re and idiot.”

            Hakkai cleared his throat.  “For the record, I’d like to state that Gojyo was correct in his assessment- Sanzo has never had his hand down my pants.”      

            The monk’s subsequent eye-roll could have transported planets.  “Thanks for clearing that up, as if it were necessary.”

            “I just feel that when certain allegations come forth, we must…”

            “Enough!” cried the therapist.  Then, reassembling his soft-spoken tone, he suggested, “Can we get back on track here?”

            “And what ‘track’ would that be exactly?”

            “It’s obvious that you all have issues with each other.  My task is to resolve them and repair your disrupted dynamic.”

            “Why?” Gojyo demanded.  “We had issues with each other long before now, but our dynamic was just fine.”

            “Just bear with me.  What can you tell me about your fathers?  Male role models can play a big part in one’s sociological development.”

            “Dead.”

            “Dead.”

            “Dead.”

            “Don’t have one.”

            “Oooookay.  What about your mothers?”

            “Dead.”

            “Dead.”

            “…Dead.”

            “Don’t have one.”
            “Mr. Gojyo, you hesitated on your answer.  Anything you’d like to share?”

            “No.”

            “Are you sure you’d…?”

            “I said no, prick.”

            “Who’s holding back now?” chortled Sanzo.

            “Shut up, cherry.”

            The therapist leaned back in his chair.  “Hmm…”

            Gojyo narrowed his eyes and leaned forward.  “Hmm… what?”

            “You’ve alluded to Sanzo’s celibacy several times.  Do you have a problem with that?”

            “Nah.  He can not-fuck who he likes.  What do I care?”

            “What about your own sex life?”

            “Used to be great, ‘til I started hanging out with these guys.  Now it’s crap.”

            “And why do you think that is?”

            “Why do you think?  They cramp my style.”

            The individual reactions to this remark were highly telling.  Goku made a jerking off motion, while Sanzo snorted in contempt and Hakkai looked awkwardly down at the floor.  Gojyo was oblivious to all three, and the therapist decided to pursue a more aggressive approach.  “Do you find it significant that you brought up a sexual topic when I asked you a question about your mother?”

            “What the fuck?  I didn’t.  And no.  And what does my mom have to do with Sanzo’s aim being off?”

            “I told you,” Sanzo growled.  “It was Goku and Hakkai’s fault.”

            “Why are you being so defensive?” the therapist inquired mildly.  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  There is a well-established sexual component to the mother-son…”

            “Gross, Gojyo!” Goku squawked.  “You slept with your mom?!”

            Gojyo set his jaw, his irritation barely contained.  “No.  I didn’t.”

            “Incest is bad!”

            “I know that!”  Gojyo cast a quick, sideways glance at Hakkai.  “But… but sometimes it just happens.  There are exceptions.”

            “So you did sleep with your mom.”

            “No, I…!”

            “Please let it go, Goku,” Hakkai interrupted with a friendly but insistent smile.  “Gojyo was defending me with that remark, not himself.”  A look passed between Hakkai and Gojyo that suggested the remark was a half-truth.  That there was someone else Gojyo was defending, whom Hakkai also wanted to protect.

            Unsurprisingly, Goku wasn’t keeping up.  He blinked at Hakkai in perplexity.  “Wait, so you slept with Gojyo’s mom?”

            Hakkai closed his eyes, summoning patience, Sanzo just looked disgusted with everyone, and Gojyo growled, “Hey, Doc, you got a ball gag or something?  This monkey is disrupting our ‘healing.’”

            The therapist just leaned back in his chair, answering this demand with the non-response it deserved.  He leafed through his notes, closed them, and looked up.  “Earlier, three of you described Mr. Hakkai as the ‘mom’ of your group.  Mr. Gojyo, do you find that pertinent in the context of the current conversation?”

            Gojyo looked simultaneously confused and horrified.  “What?”

            Sanzo, meanwhile, covered his face with his hand.  “Thanks for that imagery, Doctor.”

            Goku was still struggling to keep up with the conversation.  “Wait, what are we talking about now?”

            Exhaling impatiently, Sanzo translated, “He’s saying that Gojyo wants to bang Hakkai because he reminds him of dear old mom.”

            “I’m nothing like his mother,” protested Hakkai in affront.

            “No,” said the therapist calmly.  “You’re like the mother he always wished for.”

            “A mom with benefits?” suggested Sanzo, smirking complacently.

            “Goddamn it,” Gojyo growled.  “Can we please talk about something else?”

            “Not until we resolve this.  Mr. Gojyo, are you sexually attracted to Mr. Hakkai because of his motherly attributes?”
            “Not anymore…”  Realizing what he’d said a moment too late, Gojyo clapped his hand over his mouth and hung his head in mortification.

            “And how does that make you feel, Mr. Hakkai?”

            “That depends,” he said cautiously.  “Are you talking about the ‘not’ or the ‘anymore?’”

            “Either,” said the therapist.  “Both.”

            “Then my feelings are mixed.”

            “That’s an evasive answer.”

            “It’s a personal question.”

            The therapist nodded, his practiced instincts instructing him to hone in on a new target.  “There was a western god named Apollo, who was in love with his twin sister.”

            Hakkai didn’t flinch.  “How interesting.”

            “He considered her the other half of his soul.”

            “We’re talking about incest again?” Gojyo folded his arms and arched an eyebrow.  “I think you’re kinda fixated, Doc.”

            Flipping through his notes, the therapist found the two pages he was looking for. “You and Gojyo independently described each other as your other halves.”

            “Yeah, as in ‘other half’ of the rent.  We’re roommates for fuck’s sake, not soulmates.”

            Shifting back and forth between the two pages, the therapist proceeded to quote, “’We’re like two sides of a coin.’ ‘We generally come as a set.’ ‘He saves me from myself.’ ‘I can’t imagine life without him and I don’t bleeping want to.’”  He looked up at Gojyo archly.  “Only you didn’t say ‘bleeping.’”

            “Shit,” Sanzo snorted, “You guys are a couple of saps.”

            Nostrils flaring, Gojyo’s voice was low and resentful.  “Did you really need to read that shit out loud?”

            “I was merely pointing out certain parallels,” said the therapist with a shrug.  “This form of attraction does not exclusively apply to twin sisters.”

            Gojyo looked askance at Hakkai, who let his head fall back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression.

            “Ha ha!” Goku snickered.  “Gojyo and Hakkai are in looooove.”

            Sanzo snorted, and his lips twitched into a brief smile.  “And they didn’t even know it.  Talk about clueless.”

            The therapist lifted his eyebrows and returned to his notepad.  “Ahem.  ‘He saved me, and I’d do anything to make him happy.  Anything.’”

            Backing away from outright hostility for the first time in the session, Sanzo smirked and said, “Ha.  Which one of the lovebirds spouted out that little gem?”

            “Neither,” said the therapist with a hint of triumph.  “That one came from Mr. Goku.”

            Goku flushed a deep red and sank into the sofa cushions.

            With a sympathetic tilt of his head, he asked, “What did you mean by ‘anything’, Mr. Goku?”

            “Um… well… you know… anything.”

            “Does this ‘anything’ include intimacies of a sexual nature?”

            “Umm..”

            “Knock it off,” Sanzo growled.  “You don’t need to answer that, Goku.”

            “Always the protector, Mr. Sanzo.  Or is it that you’re afraid of what his answer might be?”

            “I’m not afraid of anything.”

            “Really?”  The therapist looked back down at his notes.  “’I distance myself from others because caring is a pain in the ass.’”

            “So?”

            “So there’s a lot of fear in that statement.  You avoid intimacy because you fear the price of loss.  You physically and verbally abuse Mr. Goku as an external reinforcement of your determination not to care, but you know that his greatest wish is to please you.  Either consciously or subconsciously, you recognize that pushing him away will only bind him closer to you.  Perhaps you confide in Mr. Hakkai because you recognize him as safe, his affections engaged elsewhere.”

            “I…” Sanzo hesitated.  “Let’s move on, okay?”

            “Who’s clueless now?” scoffed Gojyo.

            “Shut up.”

            But Gojyo wasn’t to be put off.  “I still want to hear about these ‘favors’ Goku had in mind for keeping you happy.”

            “Oh, fuck off.  Why don’t you go play Mommy and Sister with Apollo here?”

            “There’s no need to project your anger onto us,” Hakkai chided.  “We’re dealing with our fixations, and you should deal with yours.”

            Goku had been silent for some time, but the knuckles of his clenched fists were white.  “Yes,” he blurted out at last.

            “Yes, what?” Sanzo snapped.

            “Yes, I would perform sexual favors for Sanzo.”  When everyone just stared at him agape, he added, “Well, somebody has to start being honest here if we want to get back on track.  Otherwise we could get killed the next time around.”

            Sanzo grimaced and glared at the therapist.  “So your strategy for fixing us is to make our relationships incredibly awkward?”

            The therapist had the experience not to take offense at this accusation.  “The truth can be difficult at first,” he said, “but it’s the only path to true mental health.  Mr. Goku, I commend your bravery.  Mr. Sanzo, how do you feel about this confession?”

            Folding his arms, Sanzo declared, “It’s irrelevant.  I don’t do sex.  And even if I did, I certainly wouldn’t accept the attentions of anyone acting out of a sense of obligation.”

            “Do you really believe that’s how he views it?”

            “How the hell should I know?”

            Pausing for emphasis, the therapist asked, “Is that how you viewed it?”

            “What the fuck are you talking about?”  Sanzo was defiant but fidgety, and the therapist knew he’d struck a nerve.

            “Someone saved you once.  And you, in turn, saved Goku.”

            “Your point?”

            “My point is that you both suffer from hero worship.  Sexual attraction is natural towards someone who saved you and sheltered you.”

            “That’s bullshit,” Sanzo growled.  “I never had sex with…”  He squeezed his eyes closed, reining in his inhibitions.  “You’re totally off the mark.”

            “Am I?  Celibacy seems to come easy for you.  Perhaps that is because your greatest desire was left ultimately unfulfilled.”

            “No, you’re wrong.”

            “It’s too late for you, but not for Goku.  I think you understand his feelings more than you realize.”

            “Bullshit.”

            The therapist sat back and removed his glasses, taking on his most sympathetic expression.  “The natural next step in such situations is role reversal.  If you cannot have the one you desire, you recover that intimacy by becoming him.  That is why you’re so attached to Mr. Goku, isn’t it?  By giving him what he wants, you’d be indirectly fulfilling your own fantasies.”

            “That’s enough!” Sanzo shouted.  “Everything isn’t about sex, you quack, so just get over yourself.  C’mon, guys, we’re leaving.”

            ‘Ah well,” said the doctor, flipping his notebook closed.  “The hour was almost up anyway.”

            The other three reluctantly rose and followed him out the door, through the lavish waiting room and beyond.  The therapist just smiled and tapped his steepled fingers contemplatively against his lips.

            *          *          *

            Outside, the foursome piled into the jeep and drove away.

            “What a fucking waste of time,” Sanzo growled.  “That is the last time I let you talk us into something like this, Hakkai.”

            “Me?” Hakkai exclaimed.  “This wasn’t my idea.  Goku was the one who wanted us to talk, and get all our secrets out in the open.”

            “Yeah, I said that,” Goku protested, “but I always say that.  Besides, I distinctly remember Gojyo saying ‘Either we need to get some therapy or we need to get laid.’”

            “Right, idiot.  The implication being that we need to get laid.”  Here, Gojyo cast an uncertain look at Hakkai, who cleared his throat and shifted gears with an unusually firm grip.  “But as I remember it, it was all Sanzo’s idea.  He said he’d kill us if we ever fought that badly again, so we’d better shape up somehow.”

            Sanzo was about to protest, but he had to admit that those were his words, even if a therapy session had not been his intended solution.  He was acutely conscious of Goku’s breath on the back of his neck, of his long-suppressed urges, and of a palpable electricity that had suddenly sprung up between Gojyo and Hakkai.  A little therapy was a dangerous thing.  But if none of them had suggested it, then how…?  “Wait a minute,” he said abruptly.  “Does anyone remember how we got there?  I mean, what exactly happened between this morning’s fight and us ending up in the waiting room?”

            The others looked at each other and shrugged, frowning.  No one could remember.  Sanzo had the sinking feeling that something had just gone horribly wrong.

            *          *          *

            The therapist stood at the window, and watched the jeep depart in a flurry of bickering.  His ‘receptionist’ appeared at his shoulder.  “Are you ready to tell me what the point of that was?”

            He smiled.  “Just healing wounded souls, Dr. Huang.”

            “I was listening over the intercom.  It sounded like you had them pegged.”

            “Of course.”

            “And you think these tensions were the source of their poor performance?”

            “Nothing of the kind.  Their sexual issues have been present all along, and it never hurt their lethalness in battle.”

            “So why were they so off this morning?”

            He shrugged modestly.  “It was probably the drugs I slipped into their food last night.  It slowed their reflexes, allowed us to abduct them, and as a bonus made them a little more… forthcoming.”

            Dr. Huang frowned.  “But aren’t you working at cross-purposes?  Why would you try to help them resolve their issues?”

            He sighed and shook his head at her obtuseness.  “Either these new revelations will drive them apart or bring them closer together.”

            “I can see how the former would be a valuable outcome, but what if it’s the latter?”

            Ni Jenyi smiled.  “Then my plan succeeded.”  He turned from the window and tossed the spiral notepad over his shoulder.  Dr. Huang caught it automatically.  Looking back at her, he noted her inquisitive look and elaborated.  “A happy renegade is an ineffective renegade.”  And he felt confident that once the smoke had cleared, they would be happy.  After all, he was a hell of a therapist.

End.