Disclaimers: These characters are not mine. I still feel, however, that I
can play around with them.
A/N: And so, here's the story I promised. Please let me know what you think!
A Thousand Deaths
Chapter I
"Goddamn mother fucking son of a bitch!" Genjo Sanzo cursed angrily, slamming his fist against the wall of the decrepit room as he glanced with disgust at the dead junkie. His best informant since this case had opened, a reliable source due to the indirect link to the head guy, and the fucker had OD'd. Well, wasn't that nice.
Lowering his gun after decided there were no other threats, he sneered at the dead informant, waving his back up away. "The asshole is dead."
"What from?"
"Over dose."
"I'll get someone to get him out of here. I guess we'll want an autopsy."
"Yeah. God damn it, this guy was such a good informant!"
"Think it might've been a cover up, then, Sanzo? Like maybe he got caught selling information?"
"Whatever. The autopsy'll tell us. But it doesn't matter if we don't have any sort of evidence." Sanzo supervised as the body was taken away and the scene detailed. Scowling at the room in frustration, he snorted angrily. Every time it seemed he was close to getting concrete evidence, he lost his lead and was firmly pushed back to the beginning. It was like playing Chutes and Ladders, but without the ladders.
Resting in the doorway for a moment, gazing at the dismal, trashed room that had acted as a reliable meeting spot, he tightened his hand on the frame, knuckles turning white.
"Fuck you, Cho. You think you're so damn clever."
* * * *
It was too early in the morning. And the coffee wasn't up to standards. Hell, it probably was decaf! Who the hell had done this? Stupid women who wanted to cut down on the caffeine. If they didn't want high blood pressure and a rapid beating heart, then they shouldn't drink the stuff, not ruin it for everyone! Coffee was all about the caffeine; God knows no one drank it for taste.
Sighing irritably, Sanzo glared at the coffee mug in his hand, as if it were the source of all his current problems. He didn't want to go on this new undercover mission. He didn't even care about drug lords and deals. Corruption was fine. It would continue, even if he did manage to get this guy, so what did it matter?
Stepping outside, he drew a cigarette from his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lugs with carcinogens and smoke and tar. Pulling it from his mouth, he glared at the white stick. Well, it's not like smoking would be the death of him. No, his job would do that long before some tobacco wrapped in paper.
After finishing the cigarette, he stepped back inside. After casting another rueful glance at the coffee maker, Sanzo returned to his desk, a messy collaboration of papers and overdue work. Sneering balefully at his in-box, he collapsed into his chair. A nice swivel thing from Staples with armrests and upholstery made of gray cloth. The department hadn't been overly pleased with it, but he had dragged it in and refused to sit in what they had to offer. Ready to put up a fight, their chief had come in and suddenly given the okay.
Damn right.
But now, the District Police Chief had sent down an order that went directly to Sanzo. He was supposed to go undercover and get enough dirt to convict Hakkai Cho. The man was clever. It had taken two years to ID him, and even now they weren't sure of the full extent of his operations. Drugs were just the tip of the iceberg, and by no means his biggest means of bringing in money.
Leaning back in his chair, feet brought up to rest on his desk, Sanzo cast a look to the window. Outside the sky was gray and swollen, the summer air wafting through the non-airconditioned office warned of an impending rain.
Jesus, he hated rain.
Casting a look at his watch, a gold Timex left to him by his partner, he frowned. He was supposed to have his 11 o' clock meeting with a boy at a juvenile correction facility. He absolutely hated kids, but apparently this one had been on the streets for a while and spent some time with Cho, or in his presence, or knew where to find him. Somehow they were related, and at this stage in the game, he was grasping at straws.
Whatever.
If he left now, there'd be just enough time to get to the facility on time. Besides, what would it matter? The kid had been in there for the last few years. What would be five more minutes?
Pulling his feet off the desk he stood and stretched. Making sure his shoulder holster was secure; he yanked his jacket on and headed towards the door. Getting into his blue 1991 Honda Civic, a car that had suffered more then a few dents, he stuck the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot.
How had he even gotten into this mess? He should have quit after his partner had been killed. Hell, he could still quit! This whole police thing was overrated. Following in his fathers footsteps, at first he had been an upstart boy who had seen the law as golden, and justice absolute. He'd been partnered up with another blonde by the name of Koumyou. He had been a competent policeman, and his best friend.
But now he was dead, and Sanzo could see the corruption overflowing both in his own department and across the city. The only difference between them and the criminals was that they had a shiny badge that they could flash at their own discretion. In a way, the criminals were better, because at least they didn't pretend to be good people.
Pulling up in front of the facility, which was as heavily guarded as any normal prison, he stepped out, and was met instantly by a balding man with a false smile. Taking his hand, he allowed it to be shaken enthusiastically, indiscreetly wiping it off on his pants leg once the man had let go. After the mandatory superfluous greetings, the fat man began leading Sanzo down the dirty halls.
"Now, this boy's a real danger. He'd been in the social services for a while, but spent most of his free time on the streets. I assume you remember hearing about all those unexplained deaths a while back? The boy was the only one found alive amongst all the bodies. While it's true no evidence was found that pointed directly to him, who else could've it been? Because of lack of evidence he was allowed to be free, but two years ago he fucked up. Anyway, now that we've got him in here, we were planning on milking as many years as we could. He's a real monster." The man explained as he opened the door to the boy's room. "Let me know when you're done," he trailed off, shying away as Sanzo glared in response.
The room was a small, sparsely decorated thing with white washed walls and more then one crack running across the ceiling and wall. While students generally didn't spend the majority of their time in their rooms, this one was different. According to his file, a few months after having been put in the center he had gotten into a violent fight with several of the other students. Although he had been severely outnumbered, he had fought like a demon and managed to seriously injure some of his adversaries until he had been completely overwhelmed. Labeled a troublemaker and a danger to other students, he had been put in his own room where the superintendent checked on him daily. He had been there ever since.
Sitting on his generic bed, legs hanging over as he clasped his hands, the boy was turned away, head tilted toward the barred window. As Sanzo walked in, the boy's attention shifted from his window to the intruder. The cop stopped for a moment, completely caught by surprise by the strange color of the boy's eyes. They were a pure, undiluted gold that shifted colors as the light changed. In them was an indefinable sadness, accompanied with a certain longing. Gazing into these eyes, Sanzo felt a pang of.something that he couldn't quite place.
"You used to know Hakkai Cho."
Gold eyes blinked, and when they reopened, the vulnerable feelings were gone, replaced with an impenetrable mask. Shrugging sullenly, he shook his head. "What's it to ya? Who's askin, anyway?"
"I am."
"Who're you?" The boy spoke with an inner city accent, his tone wary.
"I'm Sanzo Genjo, a cop of the city's 4th precinct. You can call me Sanzo, though," he said, offering his hand. It was seldom that he let others touch him, but it seemed the right move in this situation. Staring at the hand for a moment, the boy tentatively reached out and grabbed it. Sanzo found, that despite his thin appearance, he was actually quite strong, his grip on his hand firm. Sanzo could appreciate that. You could find out a lot about a man through his handshake.
"Goku Son."
"Do you remember a teacher, Mr. Cho?" At a slight nod from Goku, he continued, "He's changed professions. Because of your previous relationship with him, we've decided that you're an asset to us. If you agree to help in leading us to Cho, I'll free you from this."
Gold eyes widened. "What?"
"Your sentence is not through yet, but if you can help me get to Cho, I'll put you in my custody, and when you're of age, you can do whatever you want." Sanzo explained this carefully, watching as the boy's eyes were filled with a wary hope. Despite the fact that he didn't know what Cho was doing, he was ready to jump at any chance to get away from this prison.
"No reneging?"
"No."
The boy almost smiled then, the curves if his mouth tugging upward as the hope in his eyes bloomed. Standing up quickly he began packing the few items he had laying around the room, shoving them into an old, well-worn Jansport backpack "So let's go!" He stepped to the door, anxious, as if scared the man would suddenly declare this all a joke and condemn him to his cell again.
"I have to fill out forms and papers."
"Don't worry about those things," Goku insisted, having finished packing all his worldly possessions into a small bag, "They don't follow instructions here. They'll just let me go. They don't care. The administration is all corrupted, there's no rules." He spoke rapidly, his motions frenzied as if he couldn't stand another minute in this hellhole. Watching the too-thin boy move around, Sanzo decided this was probably the case.
"It's for legal reasons," Sanzo started, bowled over by the boy's attitude. What had he gotten himself into? Kanzeon had mentioned that this might be the best course of action.
Sometimes it was a bitch being the head chief's nephew.
No, scratch that. It was always a bitch. And so was she.
"You're a cop, right? It should be easy!" By this time Goku had led Sanzo into the hallway and was a few steps ahead of him. Belatedly, the blonde realized that the boy could run at any moment; attempt to make some break out. Instead he remained a few steps ahead of him at all times, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet as if his energy was so overwhelming that he couldn't keep still.
"Stop being so energetic!" Sanzo snapped, irritation filling him. Why couldn't he just relax? The boy looked at him a moment before shrugging and halting his motions.
"Do I get to leave today?"
"Yeah. I called ahead. Most of the papers have been signed," he admitted grudgingly.
"Cool!" The boy had lost his tough speak, too. Apparently it was something he could shrug on and off easily. "Then can we get something to eat? I'm really hungry!"
"Yeah, all right."
"Maybe some pancakes? And sausages? And bacon! And I'd love some biscuits with butter." the boy continued to list breakfast foods as Sanzo automatically tuned him out, cursing his aunt and the situation he'd been put in. He hated kids, he hated being a cop and he hated this facility. Trailing down the long, shoddy hall, they finally reached the Superintendent's office.
"You got the creature?" The man looked up. Feeling strangely angry at the man's casual insult, Sanzo nodded.
"Goku Son, yes."
"You just need to sign a few more papers. You're basically agreeing to bring the boy to court as we call for it.though because you're his guardian and happen to be an officer that takes out a lot of any extra work you have to do. We still have some of the clothes he had when he entered as well as what he has now." The man motioned to the small pile that had been laid out on his desk.
"This is everything?"
"Everything that he owns, yes."
Sanzo cast a dismal look at the pile, realizing some shopping would be in order At least he was getting paid for taking care of the kid. "So that's all."
"Yeah. Good luck to you. This one's a real troublemaker. You're the first person who's ever shown an interest in adopting him in a long time." The man cast a nasty glance at Goku before returning to whatever paperwork he'd been busy on before they had entered. Sneering at the superintendent, he turned and prodded the boy from behind.
"Let's get you some food and clothes."
"Yeah, okay," The boy cast a look at the balding superintendent, his mood considerably dampened. As they reached the outside, the boy paused in the warm late spring rain that had just begun to fall, turning to cast a look on the place that had been his prison for the last two years. Watching him, Sanzo caught something change in his posture, and when he turned he was smiling. "What time is it? I haven't had a really good sub in so long, and I'd love some spaghetti with meatballs! Of course, a big pizza would be good too because the things at the facility were these things that had been frozen for years!" Eyes shining, the boy continued to ramble off other dishes, following Sanzo without hesitation. Only half listening, the cop wondered how this boy could have ever been put in jail. He seemed to genuinely cheerful to have committed any felonies, much less killed those people. He seemed too cheerful to have just spent two years in that damn facility. Casting a glance back at the boy, he wondered if there wasn't something wrong in his head.
* * * *
Goku sat in the passenger side of Sanzo's old Honda, watching the city that he hadn't seen in two years pass by. It was good to be back. Having spent the majority of his time in the city, he was fairly good at getting around. It was nice to ride in a car, though, even if it did smell faintly of smoke. He had never thought his friendship with a teacher would result in early freedom. Hell though, he wasn't complaining.
Reflecting on the recent change of events, he weighed out his previous life to the one he had just been thrown into it. Things were certainly going to get interesting. He wasn't quite sure of the reasons this cop had freed him, but it was easy to agree to anything if it guaranteed freedom from prison.
* * * *
"This is your room," Sanzo opened the door to the other room his apartment had. He was really quite bitter about having to clear it out and rent a space to keep everything, now that his apartment was actually going to be lived in. They didn't pay him enough for this shit.
Goku stepped in slowly to glance around the bland room, only the barest of furniture in place with no decorations, and completely lacking any sort of homey feel. Reminded sharply of the room he'd just left, he stepped in hesitantly, setting his small bag of possessions on the floor. "Thanks."
"We're going to go shopping for some new clothes and you can buy some things then. I have to be at work at six AM, so you can do whatever you want until I get you registered for school. Don't play any music loudly, don't get into trouble."
"I have to go to school? I thought I had to help you.or something?"
"You still have to go to school."
"But Sanzo."
"It's the law. You should be starting next week."
"But-"
"You'll be enrolled in the sophomore classes at the public school near here. I assume the education at the facility is decent, at least? It can't be any worse then our city's public school systems."
"I guess."
"We can go shopping now and get it out of the way. I've been given an extra budget to handle you with. I'm a cop though, and we don't get paid a lot. Enough. So don't expect high living." Goku didn't respond, just looking oddly at the cop, surprised he would suggest it. This room was the largest space he had had to call his own in a long time. It didn't matter either, if it was smaller or if he was sleeping on the couch. At least he actually had a home.
"Sanzo.thanks."
"Yeah, whatever. I don't know how I got into this. You're only going to help out for an undercover thing; I don't see what I had to adopt you. My aunt is fucking nuts."
"Your aunt? What does she have to do with being a cop?"
"She's the head chief. This whole thing is her crazy idea. So you coming?" Sanzo grabbed his keys and nodded towards the door. Casting a last look at his room, Goku jogged out after him.
* * * *
Several hours later found Goku with a whole new wardrobe and several posters for his walls. Sanzo had observed with some interest that instead of choosing famous linebackers or baseball players, the boy had chosen posters representing space and pictures with large fields and open places. The prints the boy had picked up were very colorful, and he tacked them eagerly around his room, even before pulling out his new clothes or stereo system. Sanzo had offered a TV because, after all, what better way to keep a kid occupied? Goku had been reluctant, though. Sanzo had bought the TV regardless, figuring it would grow on the teenager. After making sure the boy was good to go, he left the room to start dinner. Upon being informed about this impromptu adoption by his aunt, he'd been forced to go grocery shopping, and if the boy didn't like canned food and ramen then he was SOL. He was a cop, not a chef. He didn't have time to learn anything past microwaving and basic oven skills.
"Hey! Food's ready!" Placing the plates of micro waved Easy Bake dinners on the small cheap oak table he watched as the boy dashed in moments later, almost falling over as he flew into the kitchen, socks slipping out beneath him. Catching the doorframe at the last minute he grinned brightly at Sanzo.
"I'm so hungry."
"Don't run in here, idiot. It's not a race track."
"Um, all right. Sorry. What's to eat?"
"Teriyaki chicken."
"Sweet!" Throwing himself into his seat he hastily began shoveling food into his mouth, as if someone would yank the plate from under him before he was done.
"Don't you have any manners at all?" Sanzo watched with some disgust as the boy barely took a moment to breathe. At his comment, however, he looked up quizzically. Putting down the plate he had been holding to his face he stopped, having the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. "Just relax. There's not enough for seconds, anyway, so there's no reason for you to go through that so quickly."
"But I'm hungry..."
"Didn't they feed you at that place?"
"Yeah, but not enough and it wasn't very good." Goku began to take decent sized mouthfuls with his fork, his attitude sedated.
"Well, we don't have a lot of food here, either, so don't expect much."
"I'm not," The boy looked up at Sanzo earnestly who waved it off. Finishing his own meal he stood and took it to the sink, running tap water over it he squeezed some soap on it and put it back under the faucet, scrubbing off the food.
"When you're done, clean your own dishes."
"Why are you doing it by hand? You have a dishwasher."
"It's a waste to use a dishwasher on one person."
"Oh.that makes sense." Goku watched as Sanzo set his plate on the rack on the counter to dry. Having completed in cleaning up his mess he grabbed his glasses resting on the edge of the table and headed towards the small den where he collapsed on the couch, casually flicking on the evening news as he picked up the crossword puzzle. Watching him go, Goku turned back to his food, quickly finishing his meal and then going to wash it. Making sure his utensils were as clean as they were going to get, he rubbed the plain white glazed plate dry before setting it on the rack next to Sanzo's. This done, he trotted into the den, sitting on the other side of the couch. He watched for a few minutes as an anchor reported another murder before turning to the cop next to him.
"Hey, what do you need me for, anyway? What's wrong with Hakkai?" ("Please call me by my first name," his teacher had required with an easy smile on his face. "Otherwise, it makes me feel so old!")
"He's a criminal who runs drugs and several other black market items, and he's become very powerful," Sanzo explained without looking up, penning in another word into the lined boxes.
"The Hakkai I know is a teacher." Goku said hesitantly, as if there were two Hakkai's in the city, and the cop had mistaken the one he had known for the drug lord, and, upon finding this mistake, would return him to the facility.
"He was a teacher. Five years ago his girlfriend was killed as an innocent in a gang related incident. The man went completely berserk, somehow managed to track down and take out most of both sides. He got shot a few times but the crazy fuck managed to live. He was arrested and, on urgings of his lawyer, pleaded insanity. He got away with only five years, lowered to three by good behavior." looking up from the paper, Sanzo leveled a glare at Goku, "Yet another example of how our justice system is going down the drain." He went back to tapping the butt of his pen on the paper as he tried to think of words that would fit 'Votes against' in four letters. He looked up after a moment's silence, realizing that the boy hadn't said anything. Although he'd only known Goku for a few hours, he'd already managed to do a good job of keeping an on going commentary over everything. Now instead, he was staring out the far window, gold eyes focused on the raindrops that slid lazily down, reflecting the lights of the city and passing cars so that they became a myriad of falling jewels.
"Goku?"
Blinking, the boy turned to look at Sanzo, the introspective look on his face gone instantly. "Eh?"
".Nothing." Focusing on his crossword once again, the two sat in silence until Sanzo stood. "I have to be up early in the morning. I'm going to bed."
"Hey, what are we doing tomorrow?"
"We're going to get you registered for your school and I've got work."
"Sanzoooooo," Goku whined, making a face. "I really don't want to go to school. It's just a waste of time. Besides-it's almost over!"
"I know, but it gets you out of my hair," pointing to Goku's room, he flipped the TV off. The boy stood for a moment, surprised at Sanzo's admittance to the lack of importance that was school. He had never heard an adult share his view on that matter before.
"Hey, what about my driver's license?"
"You don't have one."
"I know, but I'm 16-"
"If you think I'm going to let an idiot like you drive my car, you're nuts. Now go take a shower and go to bed."
* * * * *
Staring up at the ceiling now covered with pictures of space, Goku crossed his arms behind his head, the pale city light creating bars of contrast across his face and room. Studying one particular poster of a nebula, he wondered exactly how he'd ended up in this situation. If someone had told him just yesterday that he was going to be out on the streets again this soon, he would've taken it for a cruel joke and probably would've hit them for it. Instead he was now sharing an apartment with a cop with a room to call his own.
It was odd to say the least, but Goku had learned to take sudden changes in stride. Since seven, the majority of his life seemed to be sudden events with no gradual transitions. Adjusting to a new lifestyle every single time he moved homes had been rough, and so he'd finally just kicked back and relaxed. There was no reason to stress about things he couldn't change.
Life in that correctional facility had been close to hell, though. He hated being trapped like that, only seeing the outside through barred windows and the brief excursion allowed everyday. So when this cop had randomly offered him a way out, he would've been crazy not to take it.
But herein lay his problem.
Sanzo had adopted him and put him under his care with the understanding that he would help him get to his old teacher, Hakkai Cho.
That teacher though, was the first person in a long time who had shown him friendship and who had seen past the casual rough exterior Goku had set as a failsafe. Hakkai had seen past all that and had talked to the boy that existed beneath it all. Giving him books to read, the man had radiated certain optimism and exuberance, actually caring for his students and somehow believing each and every one of them could succeed and become whatever they wanted.
The majority of Goku's classmates had just wanted to live past twenty. Living past twenty was an admirable goal in the inner city, and you got a certain amount of respect once you hit that age.
Most of his classmates had scoffed at the optimistic teacher, sure that he would be crushed soon enough. The energetic ones always fell hard and fast. It was only a matter of time before something happened that would break his soul, leaving him spineless. (This happened, too, though not quite in the way anyone expected, and the Hakkai that came through was by no means weaker than the one that had started out.)
But Goku had appreciated it, and the teacher had become his friend.
Goku's loyalty ran deep, and he was loath to bring down anything on his only friend, despite the promise he'd made to do so.
Sighing, he crosses his hands behind his head, allowing himself to be lulled off to sleep.
Things would work themselves out, one way or another.
End Chapter I
First, thanks a lot to SF for editing. It was a big help!
Second, let me know how you like this. I got this idea in a very round about way, but I hope it proves to be interesting! I'm trying to parallel the original story as much as I can, as far as characters pasts go.
These people are slightly different then the ones we know, because the events they've gone through are slightly different. That's just the way things are.
A/N: And so, here's the story I promised. Please let me know what you think!
A Thousand Deaths
Chapter I
"Goddamn mother fucking son of a bitch!" Genjo Sanzo cursed angrily, slamming his fist against the wall of the decrepit room as he glanced with disgust at the dead junkie. His best informant since this case had opened, a reliable source due to the indirect link to the head guy, and the fucker had OD'd. Well, wasn't that nice.
Lowering his gun after decided there were no other threats, he sneered at the dead informant, waving his back up away. "The asshole is dead."
"What from?"
"Over dose."
"I'll get someone to get him out of here. I guess we'll want an autopsy."
"Yeah. God damn it, this guy was such a good informant!"
"Think it might've been a cover up, then, Sanzo? Like maybe he got caught selling information?"
"Whatever. The autopsy'll tell us. But it doesn't matter if we don't have any sort of evidence." Sanzo supervised as the body was taken away and the scene detailed. Scowling at the room in frustration, he snorted angrily. Every time it seemed he was close to getting concrete evidence, he lost his lead and was firmly pushed back to the beginning. It was like playing Chutes and Ladders, but without the ladders.
Resting in the doorway for a moment, gazing at the dismal, trashed room that had acted as a reliable meeting spot, he tightened his hand on the frame, knuckles turning white.
"Fuck you, Cho. You think you're so damn clever."
* * * *
It was too early in the morning. And the coffee wasn't up to standards. Hell, it probably was decaf! Who the hell had done this? Stupid women who wanted to cut down on the caffeine. If they didn't want high blood pressure and a rapid beating heart, then they shouldn't drink the stuff, not ruin it for everyone! Coffee was all about the caffeine; God knows no one drank it for taste.
Sighing irritably, Sanzo glared at the coffee mug in his hand, as if it were the source of all his current problems. He didn't want to go on this new undercover mission. He didn't even care about drug lords and deals. Corruption was fine. It would continue, even if he did manage to get this guy, so what did it matter?
Stepping outside, he drew a cigarette from his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he filled his lugs with carcinogens and smoke and tar. Pulling it from his mouth, he glared at the white stick. Well, it's not like smoking would be the death of him. No, his job would do that long before some tobacco wrapped in paper.
After finishing the cigarette, he stepped back inside. After casting another rueful glance at the coffee maker, Sanzo returned to his desk, a messy collaboration of papers and overdue work. Sneering balefully at his in-box, he collapsed into his chair. A nice swivel thing from Staples with armrests and upholstery made of gray cloth. The department hadn't been overly pleased with it, but he had dragged it in and refused to sit in what they had to offer. Ready to put up a fight, their chief had come in and suddenly given the okay.
Damn right.
But now, the District Police Chief had sent down an order that went directly to Sanzo. He was supposed to go undercover and get enough dirt to convict Hakkai Cho. The man was clever. It had taken two years to ID him, and even now they weren't sure of the full extent of his operations. Drugs were just the tip of the iceberg, and by no means his biggest means of bringing in money.
Leaning back in his chair, feet brought up to rest on his desk, Sanzo cast a look to the window. Outside the sky was gray and swollen, the summer air wafting through the non-airconditioned office warned of an impending rain.
Jesus, he hated rain.
Casting a look at his watch, a gold Timex left to him by his partner, he frowned. He was supposed to have his 11 o' clock meeting with a boy at a juvenile correction facility. He absolutely hated kids, but apparently this one had been on the streets for a while and spent some time with Cho, or in his presence, or knew where to find him. Somehow they were related, and at this stage in the game, he was grasping at straws.
Whatever.
If he left now, there'd be just enough time to get to the facility on time. Besides, what would it matter? The kid had been in there for the last few years. What would be five more minutes?
Pulling his feet off the desk he stood and stretched. Making sure his shoulder holster was secure; he yanked his jacket on and headed towards the door. Getting into his blue 1991 Honda Civic, a car that had suffered more then a few dents, he stuck the key in the ignition and pulled out of the lot.
How had he even gotten into this mess? He should have quit after his partner had been killed. Hell, he could still quit! This whole police thing was overrated. Following in his fathers footsteps, at first he had been an upstart boy who had seen the law as golden, and justice absolute. He'd been partnered up with another blonde by the name of Koumyou. He had been a competent policeman, and his best friend.
But now he was dead, and Sanzo could see the corruption overflowing both in his own department and across the city. The only difference between them and the criminals was that they had a shiny badge that they could flash at their own discretion. In a way, the criminals were better, because at least they didn't pretend to be good people.
Pulling up in front of the facility, which was as heavily guarded as any normal prison, he stepped out, and was met instantly by a balding man with a false smile. Taking his hand, he allowed it to be shaken enthusiastically, indiscreetly wiping it off on his pants leg once the man had let go. After the mandatory superfluous greetings, the fat man began leading Sanzo down the dirty halls.
"Now, this boy's a real danger. He'd been in the social services for a while, but spent most of his free time on the streets. I assume you remember hearing about all those unexplained deaths a while back? The boy was the only one found alive amongst all the bodies. While it's true no evidence was found that pointed directly to him, who else could've it been? Because of lack of evidence he was allowed to be free, but two years ago he fucked up. Anyway, now that we've got him in here, we were planning on milking as many years as we could. He's a real monster." The man explained as he opened the door to the boy's room. "Let me know when you're done," he trailed off, shying away as Sanzo glared in response.
The room was a small, sparsely decorated thing with white washed walls and more then one crack running across the ceiling and wall. While students generally didn't spend the majority of their time in their rooms, this one was different. According to his file, a few months after having been put in the center he had gotten into a violent fight with several of the other students. Although he had been severely outnumbered, he had fought like a demon and managed to seriously injure some of his adversaries until he had been completely overwhelmed. Labeled a troublemaker and a danger to other students, he had been put in his own room where the superintendent checked on him daily. He had been there ever since.
Sitting on his generic bed, legs hanging over as he clasped his hands, the boy was turned away, head tilted toward the barred window. As Sanzo walked in, the boy's attention shifted from his window to the intruder. The cop stopped for a moment, completely caught by surprise by the strange color of the boy's eyes. They were a pure, undiluted gold that shifted colors as the light changed. In them was an indefinable sadness, accompanied with a certain longing. Gazing into these eyes, Sanzo felt a pang of.something that he couldn't quite place.
"You used to know Hakkai Cho."
Gold eyes blinked, and when they reopened, the vulnerable feelings were gone, replaced with an impenetrable mask. Shrugging sullenly, he shook his head. "What's it to ya? Who's askin, anyway?"
"I am."
"Who're you?" The boy spoke with an inner city accent, his tone wary.
"I'm Sanzo Genjo, a cop of the city's 4th precinct. You can call me Sanzo, though," he said, offering his hand. It was seldom that he let others touch him, but it seemed the right move in this situation. Staring at the hand for a moment, the boy tentatively reached out and grabbed it. Sanzo found, that despite his thin appearance, he was actually quite strong, his grip on his hand firm. Sanzo could appreciate that. You could find out a lot about a man through his handshake.
"Goku Son."
"Do you remember a teacher, Mr. Cho?" At a slight nod from Goku, he continued, "He's changed professions. Because of your previous relationship with him, we've decided that you're an asset to us. If you agree to help in leading us to Cho, I'll free you from this."
Gold eyes widened. "What?"
"Your sentence is not through yet, but if you can help me get to Cho, I'll put you in my custody, and when you're of age, you can do whatever you want." Sanzo explained this carefully, watching as the boy's eyes were filled with a wary hope. Despite the fact that he didn't know what Cho was doing, he was ready to jump at any chance to get away from this prison.
"No reneging?"
"No."
The boy almost smiled then, the curves if his mouth tugging upward as the hope in his eyes bloomed. Standing up quickly he began packing the few items he had laying around the room, shoving them into an old, well-worn Jansport backpack "So let's go!" He stepped to the door, anxious, as if scared the man would suddenly declare this all a joke and condemn him to his cell again.
"I have to fill out forms and papers."
"Don't worry about those things," Goku insisted, having finished packing all his worldly possessions into a small bag, "They don't follow instructions here. They'll just let me go. They don't care. The administration is all corrupted, there's no rules." He spoke rapidly, his motions frenzied as if he couldn't stand another minute in this hellhole. Watching the too-thin boy move around, Sanzo decided this was probably the case.
"It's for legal reasons," Sanzo started, bowled over by the boy's attitude. What had he gotten himself into? Kanzeon had mentioned that this might be the best course of action.
Sometimes it was a bitch being the head chief's nephew.
No, scratch that. It was always a bitch. And so was she.
"You're a cop, right? It should be easy!" By this time Goku had led Sanzo into the hallway and was a few steps ahead of him. Belatedly, the blonde realized that the boy could run at any moment; attempt to make some break out. Instead he remained a few steps ahead of him at all times, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet as if his energy was so overwhelming that he couldn't keep still.
"Stop being so energetic!" Sanzo snapped, irritation filling him. Why couldn't he just relax? The boy looked at him a moment before shrugging and halting his motions.
"Do I get to leave today?"
"Yeah. I called ahead. Most of the papers have been signed," he admitted grudgingly.
"Cool!" The boy had lost his tough speak, too. Apparently it was something he could shrug on and off easily. "Then can we get something to eat? I'm really hungry!"
"Yeah, all right."
"Maybe some pancakes? And sausages? And bacon! And I'd love some biscuits with butter." the boy continued to list breakfast foods as Sanzo automatically tuned him out, cursing his aunt and the situation he'd been put in. He hated kids, he hated being a cop and he hated this facility. Trailing down the long, shoddy hall, they finally reached the Superintendent's office.
"You got the creature?" The man looked up. Feeling strangely angry at the man's casual insult, Sanzo nodded.
"Goku Son, yes."
"You just need to sign a few more papers. You're basically agreeing to bring the boy to court as we call for it.though because you're his guardian and happen to be an officer that takes out a lot of any extra work you have to do. We still have some of the clothes he had when he entered as well as what he has now." The man motioned to the small pile that had been laid out on his desk.
"This is everything?"
"Everything that he owns, yes."
Sanzo cast a dismal look at the pile, realizing some shopping would be in order At least he was getting paid for taking care of the kid. "So that's all."
"Yeah. Good luck to you. This one's a real troublemaker. You're the first person who's ever shown an interest in adopting him in a long time." The man cast a nasty glance at Goku before returning to whatever paperwork he'd been busy on before they had entered. Sneering at the superintendent, he turned and prodded the boy from behind.
"Let's get you some food and clothes."
"Yeah, okay," The boy cast a look at the balding superintendent, his mood considerably dampened. As they reached the outside, the boy paused in the warm late spring rain that had just begun to fall, turning to cast a look on the place that had been his prison for the last two years. Watching him, Sanzo caught something change in his posture, and when he turned he was smiling. "What time is it? I haven't had a really good sub in so long, and I'd love some spaghetti with meatballs! Of course, a big pizza would be good too because the things at the facility were these things that had been frozen for years!" Eyes shining, the boy continued to ramble off other dishes, following Sanzo without hesitation. Only half listening, the cop wondered how this boy could have ever been put in jail. He seemed to genuinely cheerful to have committed any felonies, much less killed those people. He seemed too cheerful to have just spent two years in that damn facility. Casting a glance back at the boy, he wondered if there wasn't something wrong in his head.
* * * *
Goku sat in the passenger side of Sanzo's old Honda, watching the city that he hadn't seen in two years pass by. It was good to be back. Having spent the majority of his time in the city, he was fairly good at getting around. It was nice to ride in a car, though, even if it did smell faintly of smoke. He had never thought his friendship with a teacher would result in early freedom. Hell though, he wasn't complaining.
Reflecting on the recent change of events, he weighed out his previous life to the one he had just been thrown into it. Things were certainly going to get interesting. He wasn't quite sure of the reasons this cop had freed him, but it was easy to agree to anything if it guaranteed freedom from prison.
* * * *
"This is your room," Sanzo opened the door to the other room his apartment had. He was really quite bitter about having to clear it out and rent a space to keep everything, now that his apartment was actually going to be lived in. They didn't pay him enough for this shit.
Goku stepped in slowly to glance around the bland room, only the barest of furniture in place with no decorations, and completely lacking any sort of homey feel. Reminded sharply of the room he'd just left, he stepped in hesitantly, setting his small bag of possessions on the floor. "Thanks."
"We're going to go shopping for some new clothes and you can buy some things then. I have to be at work at six AM, so you can do whatever you want until I get you registered for school. Don't play any music loudly, don't get into trouble."
"I have to go to school? I thought I had to help you.or something?"
"You still have to go to school."
"But Sanzo."
"It's the law. You should be starting next week."
"But-"
"You'll be enrolled in the sophomore classes at the public school near here. I assume the education at the facility is decent, at least? It can't be any worse then our city's public school systems."
"I guess."
"We can go shopping now and get it out of the way. I've been given an extra budget to handle you with. I'm a cop though, and we don't get paid a lot. Enough. So don't expect high living." Goku didn't respond, just looking oddly at the cop, surprised he would suggest it. This room was the largest space he had had to call his own in a long time. It didn't matter either, if it was smaller or if he was sleeping on the couch. At least he actually had a home.
"Sanzo.thanks."
"Yeah, whatever. I don't know how I got into this. You're only going to help out for an undercover thing; I don't see what I had to adopt you. My aunt is fucking nuts."
"Your aunt? What does she have to do with being a cop?"
"She's the head chief. This whole thing is her crazy idea. So you coming?" Sanzo grabbed his keys and nodded towards the door. Casting a last look at his room, Goku jogged out after him.
* * * *
Several hours later found Goku with a whole new wardrobe and several posters for his walls. Sanzo had observed with some interest that instead of choosing famous linebackers or baseball players, the boy had chosen posters representing space and pictures with large fields and open places. The prints the boy had picked up were very colorful, and he tacked them eagerly around his room, even before pulling out his new clothes or stereo system. Sanzo had offered a TV because, after all, what better way to keep a kid occupied? Goku had been reluctant, though. Sanzo had bought the TV regardless, figuring it would grow on the teenager. After making sure the boy was good to go, he left the room to start dinner. Upon being informed about this impromptu adoption by his aunt, he'd been forced to go grocery shopping, and if the boy didn't like canned food and ramen then he was SOL. He was a cop, not a chef. He didn't have time to learn anything past microwaving and basic oven skills.
"Hey! Food's ready!" Placing the plates of micro waved Easy Bake dinners on the small cheap oak table he watched as the boy dashed in moments later, almost falling over as he flew into the kitchen, socks slipping out beneath him. Catching the doorframe at the last minute he grinned brightly at Sanzo.
"I'm so hungry."
"Don't run in here, idiot. It's not a race track."
"Um, all right. Sorry. What's to eat?"
"Teriyaki chicken."
"Sweet!" Throwing himself into his seat he hastily began shoveling food into his mouth, as if someone would yank the plate from under him before he was done.
"Don't you have any manners at all?" Sanzo watched with some disgust as the boy barely took a moment to breathe. At his comment, however, he looked up quizzically. Putting down the plate he had been holding to his face he stopped, having the grace to look at least a little embarrassed. "Just relax. There's not enough for seconds, anyway, so there's no reason for you to go through that so quickly."
"But I'm hungry..."
"Didn't they feed you at that place?"
"Yeah, but not enough and it wasn't very good." Goku began to take decent sized mouthfuls with his fork, his attitude sedated.
"Well, we don't have a lot of food here, either, so don't expect much."
"I'm not," The boy looked up at Sanzo earnestly who waved it off. Finishing his own meal he stood and took it to the sink, running tap water over it he squeezed some soap on it and put it back under the faucet, scrubbing off the food.
"When you're done, clean your own dishes."
"Why are you doing it by hand? You have a dishwasher."
"It's a waste to use a dishwasher on one person."
"Oh.that makes sense." Goku watched as Sanzo set his plate on the rack on the counter to dry. Having completed in cleaning up his mess he grabbed his glasses resting on the edge of the table and headed towards the small den where he collapsed on the couch, casually flicking on the evening news as he picked up the crossword puzzle. Watching him go, Goku turned back to his food, quickly finishing his meal and then going to wash it. Making sure his utensils were as clean as they were going to get, he rubbed the plain white glazed plate dry before setting it on the rack next to Sanzo's. This done, he trotted into the den, sitting on the other side of the couch. He watched for a few minutes as an anchor reported another murder before turning to the cop next to him.
"Hey, what do you need me for, anyway? What's wrong with Hakkai?" ("Please call me by my first name," his teacher had required with an easy smile on his face. "Otherwise, it makes me feel so old!")
"He's a criminal who runs drugs and several other black market items, and he's become very powerful," Sanzo explained without looking up, penning in another word into the lined boxes.
"The Hakkai I know is a teacher." Goku said hesitantly, as if there were two Hakkai's in the city, and the cop had mistaken the one he had known for the drug lord, and, upon finding this mistake, would return him to the facility.
"He was a teacher. Five years ago his girlfriend was killed as an innocent in a gang related incident. The man went completely berserk, somehow managed to track down and take out most of both sides. He got shot a few times but the crazy fuck managed to live. He was arrested and, on urgings of his lawyer, pleaded insanity. He got away with only five years, lowered to three by good behavior." looking up from the paper, Sanzo leveled a glare at Goku, "Yet another example of how our justice system is going down the drain." He went back to tapping the butt of his pen on the paper as he tried to think of words that would fit 'Votes against' in four letters. He looked up after a moment's silence, realizing that the boy hadn't said anything. Although he'd only known Goku for a few hours, he'd already managed to do a good job of keeping an on going commentary over everything. Now instead, he was staring out the far window, gold eyes focused on the raindrops that slid lazily down, reflecting the lights of the city and passing cars so that they became a myriad of falling jewels.
"Goku?"
Blinking, the boy turned to look at Sanzo, the introspective look on his face gone instantly. "Eh?"
".Nothing." Focusing on his crossword once again, the two sat in silence until Sanzo stood. "I have to be up early in the morning. I'm going to bed."
"Hey, what are we doing tomorrow?"
"We're going to get you registered for your school and I've got work."
"Sanzoooooo," Goku whined, making a face. "I really don't want to go to school. It's just a waste of time. Besides-it's almost over!"
"I know, but it gets you out of my hair," pointing to Goku's room, he flipped the TV off. The boy stood for a moment, surprised at Sanzo's admittance to the lack of importance that was school. He had never heard an adult share his view on that matter before.
"Hey, what about my driver's license?"
"You don't have one."
"I know, but I'm 16-"
"If you think I'm going to let an idiot like you drive my car, you're nuts. Now go take a shower and go to bed."
* * * * *
Staring up at the ceiling now covered with pictures of space, Goku crossed his arms behind his head, the pale city light creating bars of contrast across his face and room. Studying one particular poster of a nebula, he wondered exactly how he'd ended up in this situation. If someone had told him just yesterday that he was going to be out on the streets again this soon, he would've taken it for a cruel joke and probably would've hit them for it. Instead he was now sharing an apartment with a cop with a room to call his own.
It was odd to say the least, but Goku had learned to take sudden changes in stride. Since seven, the majority of his life seemed to be sudden events with no gradual transitions. Adjusting to a new lifestyle every single time he moved homes had been rough, and so he'd finally just kicked back and relaxed. There was no reason to stress about things he couldn't change.
Life in that correctional facility had been close to hell, though. He hated being trapped like that, only seeing the outside through barred windows and the brief excursion allowed everyday. So when this cop had randomly offered him a way out, he would've been crazy not to take it.
But herein lay his problem.
Sanzo had adopted him and put him under his care with the understanding that he would help him get to his old teacher, Hakkai Cho.
That teacher though, was the first person in a long time who had shown him friendship and who had seen past the casual rough exterior Goku had set as a failsafe. Hakkai had seen past all that and had talked to the boy that existed beneath it all. Giving him books to read, the man had radiated certain optimism and exuberance, actually caring for his students and somehow believing each and every one of them could succeed and become whatever they wanted.
The majority of Goku's classmates had just wanted to live past twenty. Living past twenty was an admirable goal in the inner city, and you got a certain amount of respect once you hit that age.
Most of his classmates had scoffed at the optimistic teacher, sure that he would be crushed soon enough. The energetic ones always fell hard and fast. It was only a matter of time before something happened that would break his soul, leaving him spineless. (This happened, too, though not quite in the way anyone expected, and the Hakkai that came through was by no means weaker than the one that had started out.)
But Goku had appreciated it, and the teacher had become his friend.
Goku's loyalty ran deep, and he was loath to bring down anything on his only friend, despite the promise he'd made to do so.
Sighing, he crosses his hands behind his head, allowing himself to be lulled off to sleep.
Things would work themselves out, one way or another.
End Chapter I
First, thanks a lot to SF for editing. It was a big help!
Second, let me know how you like this. I got this idea in a very round about way, but I hope it proves to be interesting! I'm trying to parallel the original story as much as I can, as far as characters pasts go.
These people are slightly different then the ones we know, because the events they've gone through are slightly different. That's just the way things are.