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Silvered Glass by Elvaron
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Silvered Glass



Pain and exhaustion numbed the senses. Stretched them until the edges wore so thin that they disappeared. Pushed them until all the world narrowed to a single focus, a single object -- a human turned monster, a massive claw tipped arm, a feral grin.



A gun, out of bullets.



Goku yelled. If Sanzo had been able to think beyond the red-grayness seeping into his vision, beyond the pounding agony in tortured flesh that resonated with every beat of his heart, he might have recognized the cry as a name. His own; a warning.



Reddened pupils slid over to regard him. They held the same blankness that the Seiten Taisei's did: void of conscious thought, full of bloodthirsty instinct. Sanzo pressed the trigger uselessly. Once. Twice. Again.




The bolt of fire took them all by surprise. It seared past him, close enough that his deadened senses could almost feel the heat. It plowed into the monster before him, slamming it backwards to the echo of an agonized cry. It crashed into a rock in the distance, and there it was stopped, all its power spent.



Sanzo spun, surprised. He registered the pulse of youki then, heard the flap of wings overhead. He saw the two great dragons, hovering in midair, and all-too-familiar figures upon their backs. He heard--



"Kougaiji! What are you doing here?" Goku demanded.


"Come to settle a debt."



"Idiot," Sanzo growled. "Don't interfere in our affairs!" He hit the last word before his voice cracked, and with it, everything else went. His knees folded first, the injured leg giving completely. Dimly, he noticed himself breaking the fall with his hands, then his arms crumpled, and his cheek was against the hard rock, and blood mingled with dust in his mouth.



Red-gray vision deepened to black.



Voices chattered at the edge of his hearing, fading to incomprehensible whispers.



He drifted.





Light seeped past the blackness, green and gold, and he fell into it, welcoming its familiarity. He heard a voice in the darkness, a concerned voice, a wry voice, a commanding request to return.



He slipped away.





He returned to the sight of red evening, to the feeling of a soft surface against his back, to a world of renewed fatigue and pain. A man stood by his bedside, a familiar man, dressed in green to match his iridescent eyes.



"Good evening," Hakkai smiled.



He choked on the question, dust clogging his throat and clotting his words. Hakkai preempted him with two of the three things he wanted the most at this point -- water and answers.



"It's the same day," the other told him, handing him a glass, refreshingly cool against his fevered skin. "And... you should be up and about in a day. The main problem was not the injuries; it was blood loss."



"Cigarettes," he growled.



Hakkai raised an eyebrow, and politely bid him good night instead.



--x--



The years turned; the journey trundled to an end. They got a free and instantaneous lift back to the East, courtesy of Kanzeon, leaving Kougaiji and his sister to rule in the West. There would be a truce between youkai and humans, Kougaiji promised, all fiery, serious enthusiasm. We will not repeat the mistakes of the past.



Sanzo wryly reminded him that, prince or king or whatnot, he didn't speak for all the youkai in Togenkyou. Kougaiji simply gave them a dry look and threw them out of the castle. And they all went home, and life went on, much more peacefully than before.




One rainy day, Sanzo had a guest.



"Sanzo-sama! There's someone to see you. He claims you know him."



Sanzo shot the monk an irritable glare. "Who is it?"



"He didn't say..."



"Get his name first."



The monk scurried off. He returned later, apologizing profusely and saying that the man had left, and still hadn't given a name. Sanzo frowned, then dismissed it out of hand.




The need to buy cigarettes finally drove him out of the temple, rain or no rain. Goku had disappeared -- probably gone to town himself to stuff his face, Sanzo reflected sourly, and asking one of the monks to get cigarettes for him was more trouble than it was worth, Sanzo-houshi or not. He didn't bother with an umbrella -- he hated those flimsy things that caught when the wind blew and inverted or tore at the drop of a hat. He hated the rain too, but it was something he was used to, and it wasn't bulky, besides--



"Good evening," a voice said, as Sanzo descended the temple stairs to splash into the courtyard below.



He spun instantly, feeling an odd tingle that he momentarily failed to recognize--



--youki!



Gray rain slated down, dripping off the ends of silver hair.



"You."



Years had passed, and things had changed -- without the hat, without the robes, without that glaring pendant around his neck, Sanzo had almost, almost failed to recognize him. But there were only so many people in Togenkyou with silver hair and clear blue eyes...



...Blue eyes?



Sanzo paused in the act of reaching for his revolver.



"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Hazel asked. He smiled faintly, hunching down into the shabby black coat that he wore over an equally shabby black shirt. Through the open collar, Sanzo thought he caught a glimpse of gold.



"So. You didn't die."



"No." Hazel shifted his gaze away, staring into the distance. "I suppose I have your timely collapse to thank for that. Although..." the faint smile flickered across his face again. "I wasn't grateful at all at the time."



The question that had been boiling in Sanzo's mind blurted out before he could reconsider it. Hazel glanced up at his harsh tone, although where his eyes would have widened in surprise in the past, nothing changed in his expression now.



"What am I doing here? I came to see you, I suppose."



"To see me?" Suspicion colored Sanzo's tone.



"I can't..." a brief, aborted wave in the direction of his forehead, "...quite remember how long it's been. But, I heard sometime back that you were safely back in Chou'An. Since I was headed East anyway, I decided to drop by. After all, there are very few people I actually know here... Sanzo-han."



It was the last word that did it, the last syllable, that distinctive lilting accent that he'd never heard again since that day -- it ended in blood and fire and begins again, under the pouring rain -- Sanzo surged forward, grabbing at that illusive glint of gold he'd seen and yanking it free from the confines of the Hazel's shirt.



He stopped then, the sudden rage abating as he stared at the half-familiar golden design resting in the palm of his hand. His fingers closed spasmodically--



--an iron grip encircled his wrist, unforgiving and unbreakable.



"You don't want to do that, Sanzo-han. Any more than you would remove Son Goku's circlet."



Sanzo glanced up sharply, then down again at the pendant. Suddenly annoyed at himself for losing his calm -- blame it on the rain -- he dropped it. "For a limiter, it's too easy to remove."



"I'm afraid there was nothing else available on short notice."



"What--" he paused sharply, then considered in a calmer voice. "What have you been doing all this while?"



"Killing youkai and collecting their souls," Hazel replied lightly. He glanced up as the wind gusted, driving the rain into their eyes. The sting of cold droplets against their faces, of water trailing down their clothes...



...Oshou-sama, Sanzo thought, and then: another fragmented memory: My master was killed by monsters too, Hazel had said.



And how did you feel, knowing that the monster responsible was none other than yourself?



"Are you going to kill me, Sanzo-han?" Hazel asked mildly.



Sanzo snapped back to the present, suddenly realizing that his left palm was wrapped around cold metal, and the familiar weight of his revolver rested in his hand. Should I? He wondered. What are you here for? What are you now?



I don't leave enemies at my back.



In the silence, the rain continued to fall.




"Well then," Hazel said, pushing himself away from the pillar he'd been leaning against. "If you're not going to kill me, I must be going. Good day." With a cheery wave, he tucked the pendant back into his shirt, and stepped away. Sanzo refused to turn to watch.



Retreating footsteps were echoed by approaching ones, the latter louder and faster and--



--"Oban dosu," a voice carried across the yard.



There was the splash of one set of footsteps coming to a halt, whilst the other continued, fading away into the distance.



"--You-- Sanzo! That was ..."



Sanzo glanced around. Goku stood by the gate, looking stunned. "Was that..."



"Hmph," Sanzo snorted. "Where have you been, dumb ape?"



"I got you cigarettes," Goku said distracted. "But wasn't that--"



"It doesn't matter," Sanzo said, and began ascending the stairs towards the temple.



--x--



[1] Oban dosu -- "Good evening" in the Kyoto-ben that Hazel uses. The 2nd sentence Hazel said to Goku in the anime, the first being Okii ni ("Thank you."), and, since Goku knows only Eastern Japanese, this was the term by which he remembered Hazel in subsequently.





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