Final Mission

by Zaney HacknSlash

"Change isn't always easy, but it's always necessary." "But how much change? What if things change so much, you don't even recognize your life anymore?" "...keep in mind that some things never change." Sequel to 'Missions'; takes place after coming home from India. A fic about what tears people apart and what holds them together.

1. Chapter 1

Note: I'm baaack! I've been working on this forever, but today I woke up and was like 'today's the day!' This fic is extremely personal to me, since most of it was written out of my own experiences/emotions on this particular issue, so I'm a bit concerned that it may push some of the characters' boundaries, and honestly, I almost decided not to post it here at all, but I think it's finally at a point where I'm happy with it. Please tell me what you think, and enjoy!

-Zaney

Final Mission

It seems like every Days the Same…

Goku

He's been staring into the distance for forever now, hasn't said a word in what feels like hours, and I've been chattering on and on until I almost feel like I'm just talking to myself, and I'm only doing it 'cause the quiet's starting to bug me, and I don't know what to do, other than to try and fill it, hoping that I'll say something that will make him respond. I mean, right now, he's not even snorting or blinking or nodding or looking at me. I can't figure out what he's staring at. I've turned around in my seat about a million times to try to see whatever it is he sees—a hot waitress, or a cute girl, or someone he knows, or a mountain of delicious food, or a painting that's weird and doesn't make sense, or a window, or anything—but the only thing I see is the blank wall of the restaurant we're sitting in. There are some boring decorations hanging off it: candle holders and a shelf with some homey-feeling knick-knacks, but other than that, it's just the door to the kitchen, and it's late at night, so there aren't a lot of people going in or out. I can smell the food cooking in there, but we've both got huge plates of pizza right in front of us, and two more full pizza's lined up and ready to go when the one we're working on is gone, so it's not like he's hungry and waiting for somebody to bring the dinner. He's barely eaten what he's got in front of him. All he's really done since we got here is drink beer, but he hasn't even touched that in like ten or fifteen minutes, which is probably about as long as he's been sitting there, not moving or speaking.

"This pizza's really, really good." I tell him. Like maybe he'll actually eat it if I think it's good.

"It's got lotsa' cheese on it, an' I love their sauce recipe. Ooh, an' the crust's got cheese in it too. It's so good. This place is pretty new, huh? I don't think it was here before we went to India, do you?"

Gojyo doesn't even glance at me, even though I just asked him a question.

He's got his hair up in a ponytail that looks messy to me, and some dark sunglasses sitting on his forehead, even though it's going on ten. Other than that, he's just wearing a rumpled, black t-shirt with some kinda' logo on it, and it looks and smells like he's been wearing it all week. His faded, blue jeans are torn just about everywhere, and they're pretty dirty too. I'm about eighty percent sure he was wearing the exact same jeans last time I saw him, and that was more than a month ago.

There are dark circles under his eyes, and he's frowning in a way I'm not used to, like whatever's goin' on in his head bothers him a lot.

But it's not even the way he looks that's getting me on edge. It's the way he smells and the way he feels. I don't know what it is, but he's smelled and felt this way a long time now—months and months—this smell of chaos and stress and despair with faint hints of anger and worry, and this feeling of isolation and distance. Gojyo has never smelled or felt that way to me ever before in the whole ten years I've known him, and it scares me a little bit, 'cause he's supposed to be laidback and cocky and jokey.

"Gojyo." I say, when we've been sitting in total silence for more than ten minutes. I think that hearing his name might wake him up, since it's starting to look like he fell asleep with his eyes open.

He doesn't twitch.

"Gojyo. Hey, I'm talkin' to ya', Kappa. Sha Gojyo!"

Finally, he blinks, sighs, hisses through his teeth, raises his fist to cough into it, and his eyes focus on me, "What're you screaming about, monkey? I'm sitting right across from you." He coughs again and takes a drag off his cigarette. He's been coughing a pretty long time, so even though it sounds worse every time I see him, I've gotten used to it, and I don't worry about it so much anymore. Hakkai didn't seem worried about it, last time I asked him about it, and if Hakkai's not worried, I've decided not to be.

'Course, if Hakkai could see Gojyo right now, he might be worried, but there's no way of knowing if he would be or not.

"This place's new, huh?"

Gojyo shrugs and glances around, "Um…I think it used to be a drug store."

"What? No way. It so wasn't the drug store."

He nods to himself, "Yep. The drug store. Banri and me held it up once."

I gawk at him. "What're ya' talking about? When did'ja ever hold up a drug store?"

He shrugs again. "I've held up a lot of drug stores."

"Pft. Liar. People that do that go ta' jail."

"Only if they get caught."

I consider his tone. It's as distant as the rest of him, like he barely knows who he's talkin' to. I watch him drink and smoke a while, but he never goes back to his pizza.

"Don't'cha' like the food?"

With a yawn, he meets my eyes again, and I think he looks really tired, with red-rimmed eyes, forehead slightly creased, skin just a little paler than normal, and I smell booze on him. Not the beer he's been drinking. Not sake. Hard stuff. Stuff I only drink if it's a super special occasion. "Sure, it's okay."

A long time more passes, and I study him. He doesn't really look like a kid anymore, like, he's not super young the way he was when we went to India, but he doesn't look as old as he is either. To me, he looks like he's my age. People around us probably assume he is. Still, there's a lot of sparkle gone from his eyes and his smile, and I don't think it all has to do with Hakkai being gone. That's gotta' be part of it though.

Years ago, I figured out that trying to talk to Gojyo about anything important or emotional or deep is pretty much a complete waste of time; he's a lot like Sanzo in a way, 'cause any time ya' try and talk to them about what they think or feel about something that honestly affects or bothers them on an emotional level, they just turn into walls. It's a lot of 'I don't know, I don't care, don't worry about it, mind your own business, and nobody asked you' kinds of stuff.

But I'm gonna' try, 'cause he's never seemed this bad before. For a few months, I've felt like I'm watching him wind down some drain into some shitty level of bad thoughts, but he's been doing it really slowly, and even though I noticed right away that stuff was off, I didn't actually realize how off it might be until tonight, when he spent like twenty minutes staring at somethin' that's not there.

"What's up?" I ask, casually as I can.

Gojyo raises his eyebrows and sets his mouth in a crooked line and shakes his head in a 'not much' gesture. "You know the drill, monkey: sex, booze and cards."

"Naw, I mean…ya' seem…I dunno'… Are ya' upset about somethin'?"

"No. Everything's cool."

"You're not like…worried or stressed out or sick?"

"Nope. I'm good."

"Why arent'cha' eating?"

He glances down at his pizza like he completely forgot it was there. "I dunno'. Not hungry, I guess."

"So…" I lean back in my chair, letting it rock on its rear legs a little, "Nothin' happened?"

"Like what?"

"Like anything."

"Nah. Nothing ever happens. This town bores the shit outta' me."

That's new. That's somethin' I might even be able to run with. "Why don'tcha' go somewhere else?" I ask it, but I'm being super careful.

"Right. Like where?"

"Wherever ya' want. There're lotsa' places ta' go."

"Yeah, well." He snorts, "It's not as easy as just packing up and taking off." He frowns really deeply. "Not for everybody."

I think that's kinda' strange, 'cause he's always been a guy who acts like he doesn't have ties to anything. "But why not?"

He laughs, but it sounds pretty wrong. There's something bitter about it. "Oh, c'mon. You wouldn't really want me to leave, would'ja'?"

"Maybe, if it meant you'd be happier."

Gojyo cocks an eyebrow at me, "Who said I'm unhappy? All I said is I'm bored with this place."

I don't know how to tell him why I think he's unhappy, 'cause the only proof I've got is what I can see in front of me: the messy, unwashed, gloomy shadow of Gojyo across the table, and convincing him to admit something's up will be just about impossible.

Besides, he doesn't think I understand. He still thinks I'm the same stupid kid I've always been to him.

Talking to Sanzo probably won't do him much good either. He comes up to the temple every now and then these days, but it's been less and less often for the last few months, and they even kinda' hang around together. That's weird to me, 'cause they've never been the guys who wanna' hang around together, but most of the time, when Gojyo comes up, I'm busy, and then he just winds up hanging around with Sanzo. I doubt it matters though, 'cause Sanzo's never gonna' ask 'what the hell's wrong with you', and Gojyo's never gonna' answer straight, even if he does; chances are, it'll just start some crazy fight between them.

I wish Hakkai was around, 'cause I know that if Hakkai walked into this room right now, he'd take one look at Gojyo, see how wrong everything is, an' probably demand to know what the problem is. Then Gojyo would probably just tell him. Not right away, I guess, but he totally, totally would, at some point.

These days, that's not an option. Hakkai's off, miles and miles away, makin' a new life for himself, and I can't figure out why Gojyo didn't go with him. For a few months, it seemed like everything would be okay. But over the last half a year, I've seen that nothing's okay. Stuff's probably even worse than I can see.

"D'ya' miss Hakkai?" I ask, out of nowhere, and I didn't mean to. I've tried to be careful for the past year to never bring it up, never ask about it, not even mention that Hakkai's gone.

Gojyo looks shocked, like he can't believe I asked him that. His eyes are sorta' wide, but his mouth is closed tight, and his whole expression looks almost disturbed.

That's just for a sec though, and then that all slides away, and there's a mask in place of it. His eyes brighten and his mouth smirks, he snorts out a stream of smoke and rakes his fingers back through his hair, "Oh yeah, that guy. Damn, I haven't even…" He breaks off and shrugs, "Yeah. Sure. A little. It's a lot quieter without his friggin' nagging me every two seconds."

"Is he gonna' come back soon?"

"Huh. I didn't think about it. I dunno'. Maybe. He's probably really busy."

"Prob'ly, huh?" I try to smile, but it feels about as fake as the smirk on his face.

"Sucker." He leans back in his chair to smoke.

Then we're quiet again.

I think, suddenly, that maybe Gojyo's right to think I don't get it, 'cause I guess I don't. Hakkai moved, Gojyo didn't go with him, and no one knows why; stuff seemed okay for a few months, and now this. I have no idea why he's here if he doesn't wanna' be. I have no idea why he can't just start a new life right here in his own town where he's lived for years. I don't get what's holding him back. I don't know what it is that's making him quiet, and distant and stressed and angry.

I think about sayin' 'maybe you shoulda' gone with him', but I know better. As long as he seems to be skating by okay, I can't ever say that, 'cause I know he'll fly off the handle.

He's low now, but until he hits rock bottom and can't get off his face, I can't make any judgment calls, and Sanzo won't either.

Gojyo rubs his forehead suddenly, and the smirk is gone; he closes his eyes and sighs, deeply.

"Ya' tired?"

"Nn. I guess a little."

He shouldn't be. Not when I went to his house at three and found him sleeping on his couch. He's always sleeping these days, and I don't think he should be tired, but then again, I don't know what he does all night, I just assume he does what he always does, and Sanzo says it's idiotic to still be acting 'that way' at his age. I guess it must be the same stupid crap he's always done, getting drunk and running around with chicks, gambling the night away, stumbling home in the first few rays of morning, to a day without breakfast.

The waitress brings our check. She's really pretty, with a nice face and beautiful eyes, and the rest of her's real neat and put together. She's younger than me, probably not a full ten years younger than Gojyo, and I've been waiting all night for him to hit on her, but he hasn't, and that's just another thing I don't have an answer for.

"Can I get anything else for your boys?" She smiles sweetly at each of us in turn.

"No thanks." I grin up at her, "The food was awesome—thanks!"

"You're welcome, sweetie." Then she glances at Gojyo, like he might say something too, but he's sitting with his eyes closed still, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, so she wishes us a nice night and slips away.

I pick up the check. It's pretty high. "Are ya' done with your food?" I ate most of the pizza all by myself, and he only had a slice and a half, or somethin', but I'm sick of waiting around to see if he's gonna' eat more when it looks like he's definitely not.

"Yeah. Want it?"

"I'm stuffed." I glance at his plate. It's almost like he just got bored and started smoking instead, 'cause there's a clump of cigarette butts gathered on the edge of his plate. "How'dya' wanna' handle the bill?"

"Spot me."

It's not even a request.

I frown, "Again? Ya' never paid me back from last time."

"I will."

"When?"

"When I get some money."

"When's that gonna' be?"

"Soon."

"When Gojyo?"

"I don't know, okay? If you don't wanna' pay, don't bring me to dinner."

It's definitely an option, but I don't want to not invite him to dinner, especially 'cause I don't know when I'll ever see him if I don't invite him places with me. He used to come see us at the temple a lot, right after Hakkai left, but he barely does that now, and so I have to come down to town to see him.

"Ya' really don't have like two thousand yen?"

He's looking at me now, but it's the face he uses when we play cards, and I've never been able to figure out how to read it, "Not on me."

"How long's it gonna' take before ya' get it? It's not like it's a lotta' money."

"I have no idea. Look, I'll pay you back later, okay? What's the big deal? It's not like I'm never gonna' see you again and skip town with your damn two thousand yen."

Not that it really matters, but it's more like six or seven thousand yen.

I sigh and give in, "Yeah, okay. But next time ya' better bring some money."

Gojyo grins, "You got it." He gets out of his seat and heads for the door. I go pay the check while he hangs around outside, then we start heading home.

The town's pretty peaceful, 'cause it's a Tuesday, and it's fall, so the leaves are turning colors. The town's sorta' pretty, and it smells like burning wood. I don't understand why Gojyo suddenly acts like he hates it here so much.

I look over at him. I never stopped growing, not until I got to be like twenty-five, so I'm a couple inches taller than him now, and I'm not scrawny like he is. Hakkai always told me I was shaping up to have 'an athletic build', not like the rest of 'em, who he said were more slender and lean. Hakkai and Sanzo started lookin' delicate to me, not long ago, so I'm almost scared ta' even touch 'em, like they might break if I'm not careful, and Gojyo just looks frickin' skinny, like he needs to eat. I've got nothin' but weird, scrawny, starvey-looking, anorexic friends that eat nothing.

So now Gojyo's shorter than me, and I used ta' tease him about it, before Hakkai moved and stuff turned weird; I called him chibi kappa, chibi roach, little kappy, tiny kappa, baby roach, and even little guy. At first, he acted like he had no idea what to do, and he stood kinda' behind Hakkai, like I was gonna' eat him, and Hakkai laughed at him, and everything was good. Then, after the first handful of times, he got so frustrated and embarrassed, his face was about as red as his hair, and he screamed at me for like five minutes straight about what a dick I was being, but I just laughed and said 'revenge is sweet, Goj', while Hakkai dragged him outside to get some air and calm down.

Now I don't even think about doing that. Maybe it's just 'cause I'm worried about the little guy, but I can't joke with him or make fun of him. I don't know what to say to him, 'cause no matter what I say, either he doesn't answer at all, or he lies to me.

Right now, he doesn't look happy. He looks gloomy… Not really sad, I don't think. Sad's not the right word, and I guess mad ain't either, but he's definitely not happy. Whatever his problem is, I wish I knew an answer for him, but nothing comes to mind right now. He says he's bored in this town, but I'm not sure moving is the answer.

"You could…"

He walks next to me, quietly waiting for me to answer, but he never asks what I was going to say, 'cause maybe he doesn't want to know. Maybe he already knows he could do something to change his life, and maybe he thinks it won't be enough.

Gojyo stops waiting, shifts, lights a new cigarette, "Well, I'm gonna' take off. Thanks for dinner, kid."

"No problem. Ya' gonna' go play cards?"

He snorts, "What else?"

"Every night still, huh?"

It takes him a sec to answer, "Yeah. Anyway, give Master Sanzo my love."

There's the tiniest hint of a joke in that, but it's faded and half hearted, like he has to say it, even though he doesn't care anymore.

"That reminds me. He wants ya' to come see him tomorrow."

For the first time all night, I feel like he really hears what I say, and he really looks at me. "Why?"

"There's a thing… I dunno' how ta' explain it. He'll tell ya' when ya' show up, I guess."

I get the feeling that makes him nervous. He bites his cigarette a little and doesn't say anything.

"Ya' gonna' show up?"

Gojyo shrugs, "Maybe."
"He says it's important."

"Isn't it always?"
"Yeah, but this time it actually is."

"We'll see…"

There's nothing else after that, and I dunno' what else to say.

"'Kay. Well, see ya' later."

He doesn't answer, just starts to walk away.

I turn to make my way back up to the temple. It sucks a little to go all alone, but I don't mind too much, 'cause it's a nice night, and it gives me plenty of time to think.

Hakkai left a year ago, and it's really weird not having him around, but not as bad as it was when he first took off; back then, it was super strange, going to see Gojyo, or hanging out, just the three of us, and it always felt like something we really needed was missing. Hakkai always had his thoughts and concerns, and he was always looking out for everybody in his own way. Nobody wanted him to go, not even Sanzo. He kept talking about how he didn't wanna' be stuck with 'the two idiots' all the time, but I knew that was his way of expressing that he was gonna' miss Hakkai as much as the rest of us, even if he couldn't say so.

I know I definitely miss Hakkai. I miss his weird jokes and the way he talks, his smile and his way of making me feel like I'm not totally stupid and the way he looks after me. It's more normal now, never seeing him or listening to him or hearing anything about him, and I'm busy with my own life, but sometimes I think about the way it was when he was around, the way he used to teach me things, and how a lot of what I know is thanks to him, and then, sometimes, I feel kinda' sad that he's not around. It's not like he's dead—I know he's out there, doing fine—but it still feels like he dropped off the face of the earth. Sanzo never talks about him, but they write to each other every now and then, so sometimes Sanzo tells me what he said or lets me read one of his letters, and it's always about how well he's doing and how normal and peaceful and simple his life at school is; it seems way to normal for Hakkai, and I don't totally understand why he left to go do something so boring, but he's happy, as far as I know, so I don't worry about him, and I know I'll see him again, some time. It's only been a year.

Gojyo seems like the guy to worry about these days. Seeing him without Hakkai is a little like seeing somebody who's only half a person, in a weird way. He says things, and I know Hakkai would tease him about them, or play off of, or scold him for, or just comment on in his casual way, but he's not there to do it, and even though Gojyo never says nothin' about it, the look in his eyes tells me he's one-hundred percent aware of that.

I worry about him, living in his crappy house, by himself, when I know he doesn't like to be alone, and lately his attitude is so messed up I don't know what to do with him. He won't tell me what's up, even though I've tried to talk to him about it, so I keep hoping he'll figure it out by himself, telling myself he doesn't need me to help him, but I always wonder. Every time he walks away from me like that, not really saying goodbye, I wonder what he's thinkin' and where he's goin' and if he's actually okay.

Before Hakkai left, I was thinking this is a nice time in life for us. We spent so much time traveling and fighting and struggling for our lives, and it was fun at the time, but it's good to be home. I'm not always sure I'm used to the peace, and sometimes I still expect to get jumped by assassins, but nothing happens, and life is nice. I've got some duties around the temple, like keeping watch and teaching martial arts to some of the acolytes, and these days, even the monks who've always hated my guts have started to respect me.

Sanzo likes the calm too, I know, not 'cause he says so, but 'cause I feel it when we walk in the garden, or when he sits at his desk, sipping tea. He's got his sutra back, and he's happy with that.

Life won't always be like this. I know things could go wrong again, someday, or that things might change, and when that happens, I know I'll be ready, but until then, everything is nice, just living with Sanzo, in the temple, the way we did before our big journey. It feels right.

Stuff would be perfect if Hakkai were still around. I know he has stuff he wants to do, but sometimes, like on days like today, I wish he'd stayed here.

If Sanzo ever went away, I'd wanna' go with him. Even if I couldn't, for some reason, I don't think I could hang around here and keep living in the temple without him. I wouldn't wanna'.

Gojyo's still in the same house, and I wonder if it's hard still, looking around, seeing Hakkai in everything around him, but knowing he's far away. He won't move on though, like he's standing still while the rest of the world keeps hurrying by, and sometimes, like tonight, I wanna' shake him real hard and scream at him, an' tell him to stop sleep-walking, but I don't know what he should do instead, so I don't say anything.

I see the temple ahead of me, through the trees, and I feel the warm, safe feeling I always get when I know I'm home, just like the first time I saw it when we came back from putting a stop to the revival, and how I never wanted to leave again.

These days, I'd get restless if I didn't have the little monks to teach. I'm glad Sanzo gave me a job to do.

I'm still thinking as I walk through the front gates, so I don't hurry. People say hey to me, and I say hey back. I belong here now, and they accept that. I make my way to Sanzo's room, but I stop outside the door. There are voices inside, and I wonder who's up so late talking to Sanzo, so I hang out there a sec, listening.

"…my Lord, as one of your chief advisers, I advise that you reconsider." That's the voice of Kumo, a monk that's been around here forever, and lately, he's weaseled his way in, real close to Sanzo, always following him around and giving him advice, like he thinks it's his job, even though Sanzo never asked him to. I mean, he's older than a lot of the others, so he's got a lot of duties, and in a way, he is like Sanzo's right-hand man, but I'm starting to feel like he's gotten a big head.

Sanzo answers him, coldly, "Why would I do that? He's been here dozens of times, and furthermore, I summoned him."

"But Master Sanzo! You've heard the rumors floating around down there."

"That has nothing to do with me."

"Oh, come now, Master, I know better than to think you trust such a degenerate, especially since you've increased security around here recently."

"That's unrelated."

Kumo sounds exasperated, "It's my duty, as much as yours, to see to it that the temple, and all its contents—treasures and disciples of Buddha alike—are kept secure."

"Well, that's why I asked him here. And don't tell me what my duty is."

"Of-of course, my Lord, I don't mean to instruct or question you…but…"

Sanzo gives him a split second, then demands, "That's exactly what you're doing, so why don't you explain it to me."

"Well…" Kumo's voice is nervous now, "…until recently, Cho Hakkai's influence prevented any serious misbehavior, however, with these rumors we've been hearing…it's apparent to me that the zasshu is off his proverbial leash."

Suddenly, it hits me what he's talking about, and it makes me angry. I throw the door open, totally ready to shout at Kumo and tell him the hell off.

Sanzo beats me to it. He's on his feet when I open the door, and his eyes are hard like rocks. "That's enough, Kumo." He doesn't raise his voice, but I can hear the anger in it, and I can smell it too. "It's none of your business, and I didn't ask for your opinion on the matter, so feel free to take your ass out of here now."

Kumo's distracted, looking back at me like he wasn't expecting to see me there. He's like sixty, or somethin', and he's stocky and tall—but not as tall as me—and I can throw him out if I wanna'. Sanzo probably won't even stop me after what he just said. He turns back to Sanzo, quickly, whining a little, "My Lord, I'm only thinking of the good of the temple! There are priorities to consider!"

Sanzo doesn't answer him. He looks angrier than ever.

"Ya' heard him." I growl. "Get outta' here. And don't ever leme' catch ya' sayin' nothin' like that again."

Kumo gives me a disdainful look—he's one of the only monks that never accepted me like the others. "You don't have that sort of authority here, and in any case, this doesn't concern you, Goku-san."

"Yeah?" I take a step toward him, "I maybe don't have the authority, but it totally concerns me, an' in any case, Sanzo told ya' to go away."

Kumo's sharp, black beard quivers with outrage as he turns to Sanzo again.

Sanzo cuts off whatever he was gonna' say, "You better go, or I will let him throw you out of here. After what you just said, I don't feel very charitable."

"It's only the truth, my Lord."

Sanzo grits his teeth, furiously, "Out."

For a sec, Kumo hesitates, and I think maybe I really will hafta' throw him out, then he finally bows and says, quietly, "Yes, Master Sanzo." He steps past me, one hand tucked into his robe, the other carrying a heavy, wooden staff, and disappears down the candle-lit hallway.

As soon as he's gone, Sanzo sits down again, picks up his pen, dips it in ink and starts to write something.

"What the heck was that about?" I demand, and I'm still way, way angry. "He was talkin' about Gojyo?"

"Hn. The 'mutt'." Sanzo snorts, distastefully.

"Why?"

"Kumo's never liked any of you. You know that. When the minus wave was beginning, he'd whisper in my ear day and night that all three of you were going to go nuts and kill everyone in Chang'an."

"Yeah, so why'dya' let him hang around ya' so much?"

"Why wouldn't I? He does his job right, which is more than I can say for a lot of the idiots around here; it's got nothing to do with me what he thinks of any of you. Most of the time, he knows what he's talking about, and normally he listens to me."

"So why not t'night?"

Sanzo doesn't answer. He's writing Kanji very carefully.

"What're the rumors he was talkin' about?"

"Pfft…" Goku, don't bother." He pauses to take a drag off his cigarette. He's cut back on his smoking, a little, but I still worry about it sometimes, especially since Gojyo's been coughing all the time lately.

"The rumors've got somethin' ta' do with Gojyo though, right?" That bothers me. First the Kappa's acting weird, an' now there are rumors about him.

Sanzo notices I'm bothered and looks up at me, "They're just mindless rumors from the town. Don't worry about them."

"About Gojyo though, right?"

At last, he sighs, sets everything down, tucks both hands into his sleeves and sits back with his eyes closed. "About him. Yes. That doesn't make them important or pertinent or true in any way, so don't worry about it."

"What're they sayin'?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head, "What's it matter?"

"Just…lately he's been so… I dunno'. Weird. Maybe it's got somethin' ta do with it."

"Doubtful." He grumbles. "Were you with him?"

"Um, yeah."

For some reason, he frowns. "Was he…" he stops himself, starts over, "How is he?"

That's the weirdest thing of all, Sanzo asking about Gojyo. It throws me off so bad, I can't answer for a sec, but his voice and his expression is super serious, so he's not even asking for the heck of it, and I figure I need to say something. I sit down across from him, "I can't tell. He's broke."

Sanzo nods.

"I had ta' pay for his food."

I shut up. I didn't mean to tell him that—I don't like keeping much from Sanzo, but I didn't want him to know that, 'cause I think it'll piss him off.

Sanzo snorts.

I take a sec, then go on, "He's acting bummed out too; maybe not bummed out, just…I can't figure out what's wrong with him."

"What makes you think something's wrong?"

"The way he acts, I guess. He didn't even hit on the waitress."

"That's a miracle."

"It ain't normal though, right? What's with him?"

"Who knows? Who cares?" He doesn't sound like he cares now, the same way he's always sounded, and I wonder again why he asked me how Gojyo's doing. It makes me think he knows stuff I don't. Like the rumors he heard.

"Where'd ya' hear those rumors, Sanzo?"

He puffs his cigarette again. "A few monks went into the town to barter some things and they heard them. They told me."

"An' ya' really don't wanna' tell me what they said?"

"I took it with a grain of salt. It's not even worth passing along."

It must be everywhere though, 'cause Kumo acted like he knew also. He's not one of the guys that ever goes into the town, so he had to have heard it some other way.

"Don't worry about it, Goku."

"Is he depressed?" I ask suddenly.

"Gojyo? Hnph. How should I know?"

"C'mon." I cock my eyebrow at him, "I ain't askin' ya' to care, I'm just askin' what'cha think."

He rolls his eyes, "No, Goku. That idiot just doesn't get it, like usual."

"What's not to get?"

"I mean he doesn't know what to do."

"But why?"

"Who knows? I'm not the Gojyo expert. He's a dumb ass, that's all, and you shouldn't waste your time worrying about him."

"I can't help it. He just…" I think about the Gojyo I had dinner with, how he was silent for almost half an hour, and the worry is almost worse than being hungry, "He barely even ate, an' he just seemed so tired, almost not himself. It was way worse than last time I saw him."

Sanzo doesn't say anything about it.

"Ya' gonna' see him tomorrow?"

"If he shows up, yes. If he doesn't…" he sighs, like the idea annoys him beyond belief, "I guess I'll have to go to his disgusting house and drag him up here."

I fidget with the empty coffee cup in front of me and stay quiet a long time. I can feel Sanzo watching me. He probably knows where this is going. We know each other really well.

"Maybe…you could talk to him."

"Feh. No thank-you."

"Why not?"

"It's not my responsibility."

"He might listen to ya'."

"I couldn't care less if he will or not, but since you brought it up, I don't remember the last time he listened to anything I had to say."

"C'mon, Sanzo. These're like, abnormal circumstances, or somethin'."

He raises an eyebrow at me.

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

With a sigh I give up, "'Kay." I stand up again, and he watches me. "What time's the thing tomorrow?"

"Late in the afternoon."

"Will I have time to eat?"

"Barely. Pack a snack or something. Not that it'll take very long, if the two of you are on it."

"Alright." I grab the doorknob, wait a sec, "Sanzo…d'ya' think it'll be okay?"

He waits a while too, then grumbles, "I have no idea. Just be ready for anything."

I leave his room feeling more worried than ever, probably 'cause I can just barely tell that Sanzo's worried too, and that's really not like him, so somethin's up. And the fact that there are rumors about Gojyo that are serious enough to make it all the way up here really bothers me.

What the heck's up with that kappa?

It doesn't really seem like he's in trouble or nothing, but for a while now, I've been able to tell that Gojyo is really, really lost, like not knowing what to pick off a really lame, little menu, and I guess that's what Sanzo means by 'he doesn't get it.' I dunno' how he got that way, but I need to start paying closer attention, 'cause for all I know I coulda' done a lot more for him than just pay for his dinner.

Gojyo

A hand grips my shoulder, shakes me, and I stir out of being half asleep, waiting for that familiar voice to say 'Good morning. I've prepared lunch, if you feel well enough to get up and come eat with me.'

Instead, a gruff voice says, "Gojyo. Don't fall asleep in here—they'll kick you out."

I feel the cold, smooth counter beneath me, lift my head up off the bar, slowly, and look around, blinking. I am so damn tired. I don't think I've ever been so tired in my life—my eyes burn, they feel like they're full of sand, and I just want to close them again. I look at Bao-zhi, but he's not even slightly like the guy I wish was sitting next to me. He's got his eyepatch and his mountain-man beard and his fur clothing, and one of his ears got ripped off during the calamity, so he looks more unapproachable than ever.

He frowns at me through the smoke of his cigar.

I yawn. "What time's it?"

"Almost four. I'm thinking about heading out."

Of course, when he does that, I'll be at the bar alone, and I don't want that.

"One more drink?"

Bao shakes his head, "Maybe you should just go home, Gojyo." He pays his tab.

I tell the bartender I'll settle up later and follow Bao out the door where another shitty, cold, gray, October day is forming. It's dead quiet. I feel nervous, glance over my shoulder a couple times as we go along. "Wanna' grab some food?"

"You couldn't pay your tab; I hope you don't expect me to pay for your breakfast, hot shot."

"'Course not."

"Anyway, I think I'm just going to go home."

"Yeah, okay." I mutter.

He gives me a short look, "You should go home too, don't you think?"

Home.

I stare up the street, north, toward the road that leads to my house. It's gray and cold like everything else. I can't think about that place for very long, that house, because it's not home to me anymore. It's just a place to crash at night. It's a roof over my head when there's nowhere else to go. It's a shelter I have when the weather sucks. Everything that ever made it feel like home is gone.

Nothing feels right anywhere though. I recognize the shit around me, but it's different. Or maybe I'm different. I stopped fitting in here.

I shrug, "Nah. I'll go see what everybody else is up to."

"At four in the morning?" Bao gives me a bewildered look. "Why?"

"Kill time." That's all there is to do anymore anyway. Kill time. Kill it and kill it and kill it until it kills me. I laugh to myself and start coughing, then I turn and look the other way, down the road, toward the south, where the 'bad' part of town is.

Most of the people who used to cause trouble in this town were youkai, so when they went berserk and ran off, there wasn't really a 'bad' part of town anymore. Youkai are moving back into our town now, slowly but surely, so crime rates are up a little, but maybe that's good for me.

Right now, it's dark down there; no light, no movement, not so much as a stray cat or a hooker looking to wear away the final hour of night with somebody. It's lonely. I'm lonely.

That's usually how I wind up on the wrong side of the tracks: being lonely and looking for company or somebody to cheat. That's how it was when I was a kid.

Then there was a long time when I didn't need any of that, and I stayed out of there, partly because I was always in thick shit with this town's big, bad ganglord, Gin Loki. The south side is not somewhere I've been welcomed to in a long, long time.

These days it seems like it's always calling my name.

Bao looks too, then takes another long look at me.

I chew my cigarette. I live in a small town—not super small where everybody knows everybody's shit—just small enough that sometimes, if you're not careful, the shit you do can get around to almost everyone who lives there. I've been trying to hide my shit, but lately I've seen people looking at me weird, whispering to each other, and I don't know what they're looking at. I don't know what they're gossiping about. I tell myself it can't be me—I haven't done anything that bad yet—but I still wonder if my buddies know. I wonder if Bao knows.

I don't have any real friends left in this town anymore, but Bao is pretty close.

"What?" I demand finally.

"Nothin. I don't get over that way much anymore, do you?"

"Nn. Not much." I cough, "Loki's nuts."

"He is."

Bao stares at me a little longer, then turns away, "I'm going home."

"Right. 'Night."

"It's morning, Gojyo. Get yourself to bed soon."

It's not the way Hakkai would say it, but it's like what he might say.

"Mind your own fuckin' business." I mutter.

He doesn't answer, just walks off, leaving me alone in the street.

Alone again. What difference does it make? I'm always alone these days, even when I'm with people. Even if I'm with a lot of people, I feel alone. Nobody looks me in the eyes, nobody ever touches me, people try to cheat me, try to lie to me, try to rob me straight up, and no one's got my back.

Go figure. I almost forgot: that's the story of my life.

I don't want to keep standing in the street by myself, and I don't want to go home.

I turn east. It's a long walk to Keiun temple, and every time I go up there, the walk seems longer than last time; maybe that's because I've walked it so many times I'm just bored to death with it, or maybe it's because, these days, every time I walk it, I'm alone.

Whatever the reason, I'm not sure I want to take that long, boring, lonely walk all by myself today, because today feels even worse than yesterday, and yesterday was a God-awful piece of shit where Goku did nothing but ask me questions and I had the worst hangover of my life. Besides, I don't know if I want to see Sanzo today. I don't know if I want to find out what it is he has to say to me…

Rumors get around in a town this size. They could make it to Keiun, and I've always known that. What I don't know is what Sanzo would have to say about those rumors, if he'd believe them, if he'd give a shit about them. Not that I really give a shit about what Sanzo thinks, but…

"Oh hell." I throw my cigarette down and start a new one. "I may as well go find out."

I cut through a shallow alley with a beaten, uneven ground and a flickering porch light, staring intently through the darkness as I make my way through town. My steps are sloppy and clumsy from drinking, but the fresh air will sort me out soon. I leave town, with all its solitude and darkness, cut across the path that would normally take me to my house, and keep heading northeast.

I'm halfway there when I realize Sanzo might not be awake at five am.

Maybe I'll just wake his ass up then. Life's way too boring since we came back from India, and almost unbearable since Hakkai picked up and took off, and maybe I could use a little drama, or a shouting match with Sanzo, or even a good fist fight, if he feels like throwing down. I can still kick his ass.

Nobody else is on the road. Normally when I walk to Keiun, I pass at least one monk who's going down into the town on business, or escaping from the thumb of Lord Sanzo, but it's still too early, even for them. The birds are starting to wake up, singing fills the trees, the air is chilly and tobacco tastes good.

I wish like everything this could be a normal day, but I know better than to think it possibly can be. Because yesterday sucked, and yesterday was worse than the day before yesterday, and the day before yesterday was worse than the day before that, and pretty much every day has sucked in some form or other for the last year, getting worse every day. So today is really, really going to suck, and I already know it.

What can I do though? I can't go home and hide under the covers like a little kid.

The sun is barely coming up when I reach Keiun, the sky turning pale, violet gray, with red streaks on the eastern horizon. That means it'll probably rain later. Great. A shitty, rainy day is coming my way. The woods look washed out and unreal. I've seen everything by this time. I went all the way to India and back, traveled all over Shangri-La, and nothing is interesting or eye-catching now. Everything is empty.

For a while, I loiter outside the wall and smoke; I wonder if Sanzo's gonna' be pissed off. I guess it depends on what he's heard and what he thinks about what he's heard. It doesn't seem like something he'd do, calling me up here just to lecture me about my life, but I don't know what else he could possibly want. Besides, the guy who's supposed to lecture me about the dumb shit I do is AWOL.

Go figure. We used to walk this path all the time, before we hit the road. Up, then down, back and forth, injured, not injured, sometimes bitching about it, sometimes just accepting it. Never alone though.

Today there are no jokes, no laughter, no teasing, no bickering, no nagging, no lecturing, no conversation. I hate it.

For about thirty minutes I hang around outside, and then I finally wander over to the gate, feeling a little more sober now—at least sober enough to put up with monks and Sanzo and maybe even Goku, if he's up.

Hell, as if. I don't feel up to deal with anything today.

"Just one moment, please." The monk at the gate says.

I blink. I barely heard him, but it's not the thing he's supposed to say. He's supposed to open the gate like a good baldie. "Wait for what?"

No one answers me. Another monk rushes off toward the temple and disappears into the garden, but no one tells me why.

They just make me wait another fifteen minutes, or something, and I can't decide if I care or not. Caring hasn't been typical for me lately, but I guess I do feel annoyed.

When the monk comes back, he's got this guy with him. I've seen him at least a million times, but hell if I know what his name is. He's old, he's cranky, his beard grosses me out, and he's always giving me some death look, so I've always avoided him. Well, more like Hakkai always insisted we avoid him. I think he even knew the dude's name, and was always making a point to tell me to steer clear of him.

I almost turn around and walk away, because I don't wanna' deal with Grandpa Grumpy Pants without Hakkai.

He fixes his pale, suspicious gaze on me as the gate swings open, slowly, and then he just stands in my way.

"'Sup, pops? You the man at home for the day?"

He sniffs at me, and he sounds like he seriously needs to get laid. "I take it you're here to see Master Sanzo."

"I'm here to see some kinda' Sanzo."

This guy's probably never had any action in his whole life.

"Lord Sanzo has only just woken up."

"So I'll wait, or whatever. He called me, you know. He sent his special helper to specifically ask me to come here."

"I'm aware of that." He says, scathingly.

"What's your problem then? Get the hell outta' my way."

He sighs, like I'm the most intolerable, impudent piece of shit gutter-brat to ever crawl up out of the sewers. Nobody's treated me quite like that since I was fifteen.

"Hey, know what? I don't give a shit. Feel free to explain to him why I left." I turn to go out.

"I'll escort you to his sitting room, and you will wait there until he's ready to see you, is that clear?"

I glance over my shoulder at him. "The hell? Why?"

"Security measures."

Interesting.

I cock my head to look at him a while. This could have something to do with what a bad boy I've been lately. If Sanzo knows I'm up to no-good elsewhere, he probably won't want me in his temple where I could easily get my grimy hands on his rare, one-of-a-kind shit.

So why the hell did he call me here?

Maybe it's for a special smack in the head with that fan of his.

I feel a little cold as the thought hits me, Can Sanzo…arrest me?

He arrested Hakkai. But Hakkai was some insane murderer who had to be brought to justice, and the shit I've been doing is just…

I mean, it's not that bad.

I don't have anymore time to think about it. Grandpa grabs me by the collar of the shirt and starts to pull me toward the temple, and that does feel an awful lot like being arrested.

"I knew today would suck." I mutter, shoving his hand off.

Sanzo rearranged a lot of shit in the temple over the summer, so it's kind of okay being escorted to his sitting room, since I doubt I'd ever find it by myself. The old man is quiet most of the way, but as we get closer to the inner gate, he suddenly says, in a low voice, "If I were you, I'd stay out of this place from now on."

"Is that supposed to be some kinda' warning?" I blow smoke in his face. "Or a isit a threat?"

Coughing, he waves at the smoke, "This is a Buddhist temple; It's no place for the likes of you."

"Believe me, it's not my favorite spot. I'm here because Sanzo asked me to come here."

"In the future, I suggest you not come here for any other reason."

I glare at him, "Why the fuck do you think that, Grandpa?"

He wrinkles his nose at my language. "Because, you little heathen. I know better than to trust you. It's all over the face of the mountain that you've turned to a life of crime, and Master Sanzo knows it."

I stop dead in my tracks. Part of me really wants to think he's fucking with me.

"Furthermore, I know better than to think you're a friend of Sanzo's. We've all seen, time and again, how you disrespect him, even when he's gracious enough to let you sit in his presence; as if you're a disciple."

"Look, asshole, you better point me in the right direction, 'cause I ain't taking one more step with you and listening to your bullshit."

He looks, hatefully at me, grabbing me by the collar again so he can continue escorting me, and he hisses, "Listen here: I don't like you, and I know the master doesn't like you, and crassness will no longer be tolerated here, after today. I'll see to it myself, hanyou."

"You fuckin' sonnova' bitch!" I shake loose of him again. "Where do you get off?"

"I expect you to understand from now on that you're not welcome-"

I'm two seconds away from knocking his block off when a stern, calm voice cuts him off, like he's just the dumb, little broom-chaser he is. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

I look up to see Sanzo standing on the other side of the inner gate, with that tired, pale, morning face I know so well, and he looks beyond annoyed.

We both stare at him. I wonder how long he's been there.

I shove the monk off me one last time and turn to face him, "It's not my fault this asshole-"

"Shut up, Gojyo." Sanzo opens the gate, smoothly.

"He-"

"Kumo. What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Kumo drops his jaw, starts stammering, "L-Lord Sanzo! I was escorting your… guest to the-"

"Who told you to do that?"

"Why, no one, I took it upon myself, so he wouldn't be wandering, lost, in the temple for-"

Sanzo just snorts and slants a glance at me, "Are you so stupid that you might actually get lost in this place?"

"Sanzo, this asshole…"

He ignores me, "From now on, Kumo, don't even breathe on him without my permission. Is that clear?"

"But my Lord-"

"Don't touch him. Stay the hell away from him."

I cut off in the middle of what I'm saying, completely shocked. Sanzo's never said anything like that about me ever before.

"I told you last night to let him in without any hassle, didn't I?"

"Y-yes my Lord."

"When I have to separate you like a couple of children, that's a hassle."

"Yes… I-I apologize for troubling you, Master Sanzo." He bows and starts to back away.

"I didn't say you could leave yet."

Kumo looks surprised and stops in his tracks. "Sir?"

Sanzo's face is serious as hell, "Last night, I would have let Goku throw you out in the pond over that shit-head comment you made. Do you remember that?"

The color drains from Kumo's face. "Yes, well I-"

"You're not excused just because you didn't realize I was listening. The next time you say something like that—to him, near him, about him—I might just lose my patience and shoot you."

Kumo looks like he might fall over.

I realize for the first time in my life that every monk in this place is probably terrified of their beloved 'Master Sanzo'.

"Master, forgive me, it was a slip of the tongue, nothing more—it won't happen again, I swear to you. I didn't intend to start an altercation, I only meant to escort-"

"What are you apologizing to me for? I'm not the one you insulted."

Kumo stops dead and stares at him like he can't believe what's happening to him. He makes a couple pathetic, dry sounds, but no words come out. At last he stammers, "You, you can't honestly expect me to-"

"I do. Immediately."

Reluctantly, Kumo looks at me again. He bows, stiffly, "I apologize."

"I think you'd better do better than that if you don't want to be cleaning out the latrine for the next six months."

That must be a really awful job to get stuck with, because Kumo practically falls on his face at my feet, "Please excuse my language, Gojyo-san; what I said was out of line."

I think about kicking him in the head.

Sanzo snarls in my ear, "You better be gracious, or you'll be the one cleaning the latrine for the next six months.

Harsh.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't even give a shit about what you said, Gramps. Just don't do it again."

"Of course not." Kumo keeps his forehead pressed to the ground. He really doesn't want to clean the latrines. "My deepest apologies."

I shrug at Sanzo, "Right on."

He's giving me a long, weird look.

"Anyway. What'd you call me here for?"

"You're early." He grumbles, tiredly, and then he goes back through the gate, "Get your ass in here."

I go after him, taking a couple glances at Kumo over my shoulder as I do, but he keeps kao-taoing until he's out of sight, then I catch up to walk beside Sanzo, "Hey, man, what you did back there-"

"I only did it because I didn't want you to lose your pathetic excuse for a temper and kill him over it."

"Whatever. What was his problem anyway?"

Sanzo shakes his head, "Maybe if you put the one or two brain cells you have left to work on it, you'll figure it out by yourself."

Then that means…

He's looking at me out of the corner of his eye, "It's none of my business what you do or who you get involved with, but don't even think of making your mess mine."

That means he knows.

"That's not what you called me here for, is it?"

"Of course not."

"Goku said this's important… Where's he at, by the way?"

"He took a group of his students up into the mountains for training about an hour ago. He'll be back soon enough."

"Students? Damn. He's getting smart on us now?"

"Unlikely. I was referring to the acolytes he teaches martial arts to, but I'm not shocked you don't remember that."

"Ah, our little man is all grown up. You must be proud."

Sanzo sighs, "It's too early for you. I wasn't expecting you for at least another eight hours."

"I was in the neighborhood. What do you want anyway?"

We're in the temple now, but it's totally quiet, with just a few monks rustling around in the halls. It's too quiet for me. It feels as empty as everything else.

Without really thinking about it, I rest my elbow across Sanzo's shoulder, "Hey…man…how've you been? I ain't seen you in a while."

"Busy as hell. I don't have a spare second to worry about any extra nonsense."

"Don't worry about it." I drag on my cigarette, "Nothin' I do is gonna' bite you in the ass."

He glances at me, but I can't read his expression. "It had better not."

We go a ways further, into the room where he usually sits and eats rice and drinks tea, like an old man. It's long, with a high ceiling, but narrow, with barely enough room for the table. There's some rice set out there already, steaming, freshly cooked. He sits down and picks up his chopsticks, gestures to the chair across from his, "Sit down and shut up."

"I wasn't sayin' anything." I grumble, going to sit down. I trip on the leg of the chair and I fall forward, barely catch myself on the table before I bust my head open along its edge.

Sanzo gives me a disapproving look, "What are you, drunk?"

"Maybe a little."

"Feh. How juvenile." He starts eating.

For a long time, we're there in the silence. I'm pretty much starving, my stomach tight with the pain of hunger, and I haven't eaten anything in the last twenty-four hours except for the couple slices of pizza I had with Goku. I'm so tired, I want to just lay my head down on the table and go to sleep, but I don't dare do that with Sanzo sitting right next to me, glancing at me every now and then. I listen to the silence, and I can't help noticing that it seems to echo, even when there isn't any noise, like there's supposed to be a voice, and there isn't.

Outside, the morning is brightening up, with golden light coming through the shivering, golden leaves on the trees. I sigh, which leads to a cough, light a new cigarette, and wait for Sanzo to strike up a conversation, even though I'm kind of relieved he's not ripping me a new asshole. Kumo said it's all over that I've 'turned to a life of crime', but that's just an exaggeration. I've just done a couple little things, every here and there, for the last few months, that weren't exactly legal. Tiny jobs, like the crap me and Banri used to do, before I met Hakkai.

I wonder what Hakkai would say.

I don't really want to know what he'd think, so I ask, suddenly, "What's new?"

I'm not sure why, but Sanzo almost seems like he doesn't want to answer that question. He's quiet a little while longer, and then he grumbles, "Can't I just eat in peace? We'll discuss 'what's new' when I've finished."

He wants peace, but I don't. I want noise and sounds and words and something to fill the silence, to make me feel like I'm not alone, even when I am. "What about Goku? You gonna' make him a monk? He's gotten pretty important around here, hasn't he?" I can't really picture the Seiten Taisei being a monk, so it's really just a joke, even if it is lame. It fills the silence, that's all that matters.

Sanzo takes his eyes off his rice to give me a long, measuring look I'm not ready for.

I raise my eyebrows at him, "What?"

"What did you do to get him worried?"

"Who?"

"The monkey."

"The monkey? I dunno'. What's he got to be worried about?"

"I'm asking you."

"Hell, I dunno'. I didn't know he was worried in the first place."

"When he came home last night, he was acting worried. I take it he was with you."

It bothers me to hear that. I noticed the kid was asking a lot of questions yesterday, some of them really pushing it, like 'do you miss Hakkai', which is a dumb question I shouldn't have to answer, but I didn't think he was worried. Goku says whatever comes into his head, doesn't he? There's no reason to take it seriously.

"Is that what you wanna' talk to me about? Why I scared the monkey?" I scoff. Because it's dumb—as dumb as Goku's stupid question—so dumb I shouldn't even have to deal with it. I didn't do anything on purpose to freak Goku out, so it's gotta' be a misunderstanding, and I have no idea why Sanzo is intentionally getting in the middle of it, but I'm not about to sit here and tell him of all people about all the things that have gone wrong with my life in the last six or nine months.

"No, but now that you're here—eight hours early—I'm asking: what did you do to upset him?"

"Nothin'. Dinner was normal." I thought dinner was normal anyway. "He was cool when we left the restaurant. Sure he's not just hungry?"

"If it was about food, it would have been about food, not about you."

Does that mean they're talking about me behind my back?

Maybe things are even more out of control than I realize if they're talking to each other about me and worrying.

"Like I said, dinner was normal."

"I'm not stupid, Gojyo." He says it with infinite calm and superior intelligence, making me feel like, whether I tell him what's actually going on or not, he probably already knows why Goku's worried.

But I have to give him that. Sanzo's an asshole and a dick and a snob, but he's not dumb.

For the hell of it, I try to remember what Goku and me talked about, but the conversation is fuzzy in my mind, like I wasn't really there in the first place. At last, I shake my head, put my cigarette out, "I really don't know."

Sanzo looks irritated, then he goes back to eating.

I can't explain it, but I might as well try. Maybe if I give him a good excuse, the worry will stop, and then I can go back to minding my own business. "He was bitching about how late I slept yesterday." I yawn and wish I were sleeping right now; shit's way easier to deal with when I'm asleep. When you're asleep, it's impossible to tell what's going on in the outside world, or what's going wrong, or how you've messed up, or whether or not you're totally failing at life, and, more importantly, it's impossible to tell who's around and who's not. "I guess I had a lot to drink the night before, so I was still sleeping when he came around. I didn't think it was that big a deal."

"You're a little old to be acting like that, aren't you?"

"I didn't realize it was wrong to have a few drinks when you're my age." I shrug.

"A few drinks."

His judgmental tone is the last thing I need right now, and I snap, "Hey, who the hell do you think you are, getting on my case about what I do?"

"It's like I said earlier: I don't give a damn, but I don't want it biting me in the ass later, and if you freak Goku out, it comes back to me, eventually. You might think about at least pretending everything is all right as long as he's around."

I hesitate. Where is he getting all this?

"What's to pretend? Everything is all right."

Come to think of it…it seems like Goku was asking me if things were all right last night too.

Why are they worried about that? Is it just the shit they've heard about the petty crime I've pulled?

You're not fooling anyone. I tell myself suddenly. Some of the shit you've done is not petty. You could get hardcore locked up for some of it, and you know it, and if Sanzo and Goku know it, they have every right to be freaked out.

And even if it's not about that, there are other reasons for them to be freaking out about me, because I know I've been acting weird lately. It seems like every time I turn around, they're showing up on my doorstep, unannounced, and I'm always either hung over, drunk, or still asleep. That right there is probably enough to get them wondering.

Come to think of it, that very thing happened a little over a month ago, which is the last time I saw Sanzo before today.

The thing is, I don't run around like I used to, not because I've gotten older or anything, but because, like almost everything else in my life, it just doesn't feel right anymore. But when I'm at my house, it's just too damn quiet, and I can't take the solitude and the loneliness, so I drink pretty heavily, almost every night, and in the morning, I'm usually still obliterated. I don't have anything to do, so I sleep a long time.

From the outside, that must look really messed up.

I wasn't expecting Sanzo and Goku to ever even find out about it.

They knocked on my door last month, at like two-thirty, and I barely managed to drag myself back to consciousness and stumble to the door to find out what they wanted.

I'll never forget the way they looked at me. Like I had some flesh-eating disease, like I was horrific just to look at, and even though I'd played it down, I'd known, even then, that it was because I was a mess, and because I was hung over at two-thirty.

Then they'd come in, even though I hadn't invited them to, and they'd looked around my house like it was a wasteland, while I'd grabbed a beer, because it was all I'd wanted at the time.

"Where have you been?" Sanzo had asked.

It wasn't until later that I'd thought about how weird it was for him to ask me that.

"What'dya' mean?"

"We haven't seen you in more than two months. We figured you keeled over and died." He'd said it in his deadpan, 'give a damn's busted' tone, so I hadn't thought much of that at the time either.

"Just been busy."

The way he'd looked around at my house after that, and the way he'd looked at me, had been so disbelieving, and so uncommonly disturbed, I'd kind of wanted to slink away and hide behind my couch. "It looks like it."

"Whatever you did, just don't do it again." Sanzo says, drawing me back to the present. "He annoys the hell out of me when he's like that."

I don't say anything as I start another cigarette, because I don't see anything wrong with having a little too much to drink and sleeping a little later than normal, no matter what the reason is, and for fuck's sake, I'm not that old. He talks like I'm over the hill, but I'm still in my damn twenties, aren't I?

"And by the way, you should think about pulling yourself together, because watching you fall apart so slowly is tedious. The least you could do is speed up the process."

"Who the hell says I'm falling apart? Shit ain't perfect, so what? And I didn't walk my happy ass all the way up here for a lecture, so lay the fuck off."

Sanzo's face and voice stay completely serene. "Shit's not perfect? Is that the lie that helps you sleep at night? Things will never be perfect, so if you can't hack the real world, maybe you should have-"

I shove the chair back violently, to stand up, "I don't have any fucking time for this, Sanzo. I don't know what the fuck I did to get you on my case like this, but I have a thousand other things to do that would be way better than this. So I'm fuckin' stumped, and if you wanna' let me in on what the fuck you're talking about, feel free, but do it later, because the last thing I need is for you to start telling me what's wrong with my life." I stamp out my cigarette, angrily, turn on my heel to leave. I should have just gone back to my house after all.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"My house. It's too early for your condescending attitude."

"Then you should have come on time."

"Fuck off."

"I'm not done talking to you."

I stop at the door, using all my willpower not to shout at him, "Give me one good reason I should stick around and see what else you have to say."

He's still not ruffled, and I don't know why that is, because back in the day, it didn't take anything to get him to flip his shit. For the most part, if I flipped my shit, he'd flip right back. Maybe he's just gotten too mature to act that way now. Or maybe it's not worth it. Or maybe it's because I'm acting like a lunatic, and we both know it, so there's no reason for him to flip out too.

I think again about that day he came to my house.

He hesitated at the door, just for a second, as he was leaving. Goku was already outside, yammering about how pretty it was. I was standing next to Sanzo, holding the door for him to leave, and I was a little bit annoyed that he was there at all, but he stopped and turned to me, expression sharp and dead serious, voice low, probably so Goku wouldn't overhear, "I'll give you one chance to tell me what the hell is going on with you."

"And then what?" I sighed. "You're never gonna' ask again? Don't break my heart."

"You can act like a flippant, little brat all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that everything is obviously really wrong with you, and you'd be stupid not to just admit it, right now, when you have the opportunity."

I'd just taken a slug off my beer, "I have no idea what you're talking about; everything looks normal to me."

He'd kept that ultra serious gaze on me until I almost couldn't take it, but I hadn't broken down. I couldn't let myself. "Is this about Hakkai?"

Of course he'd think that. They were all going to think that, no matter what I did or what I told them. They were going to see me falling apart and just assume 'Gojyo can't hack it without Hakkai to hold his hand through life', so there wasn't even a point to arguing about it.

The truth is, Hakkai being gone doesn't help, but it's not the heart of the problem. I wouldn't know where to begin with explaining what got this all started; I couldn't explain it then, and I can't explain it now.

On that day, all I said was "It's not." And it was probably the only thing I said to him that day that wasn't a lie.

Not like it mattered, because he didn't believe me. I know that, because he'd snorted and grumbled, "Fuckin' liar." And left me standing there, feeling like a stupid, helpless, ungrateful kid.

His opinion obviously hasn't changed; he can see I'm falling apart, because even though I'm trying to hide it, it's a lot like that vase I broke when I was nine, the one I tried to put back together with school glue and duck tape. There's no hiding something that's broken that bad, and when everyone sees how broken it is, they'll bust the shit out of you for it, the same way Mom did.

Sanzo thinks the reason for all of this is that Hakkai went away, and I can't tell him that it goes way deeper than that, but in any case, he probably doesn't bother flipping his shit when I flip mine now, because he thinks I'm totally out of control, and there's no winning a fight with me, even if I'm really, really wrong and I know it.

Besides all that though, I got the tiniest glimpse that day he came to my house, that Sanzo might actually be worried about me.

That's the only thought I have that makes me decide to cut him some slack, "Fuck. Fine. What?"

"I wanted to ask you for a favor."

"A favor? You think you deserve a favor from me after I wasted six years of my life helping you complete your mission? I'm pretty sure you owe me."

"At least listen to what it is."

I snort and mutter under my breath, but I stay where I am and wait.

He sets his bowl to the side, lays his chopsticks down, lights a cigarette, then tucks his hands into the sleeves of his robe and sits back, calmly, like he knew all along I'd give in.

"There's a camp about five miles north of here. For the last week or two I've been watching it grow, but even then I wasn't concerned."

"Camp?" I sigh, "Like what? Not a summer camp." I'm too damn tired for this, I think to myself. I'm too tired, and I'm still drunk, and I don't want to do anything for Sanzo right now.

"I guess the most accurate way to describe it is as a militia camp. All youkai, as far as I've been told, and the consensus is, they've been displaced since the calamity. Obviously, they returned to their senses, tried to go back to their homes, and weren't allowed to, so they've banded together, set up a camp, and more and more join every day."

"How many?"

"About a hundred. Maybe a few more."

"So what's the big deal? It's not like they have anywhere else to go."

"Normally, I'd ignore it. But in the last couple days, some of my monks have been attacked while walking through the mountains, on their way to neighboring towns and what have you. No one was killed, but they made off with some important things, and with money." He levels another serious, purple-eyed look at me, "I'm sure you can figure out the rest from there."

"Uh-huh. I know the drill." I rub the bridge of my nose and try to make the headache that's coming on go away.

"The two of you should definitely have a plan before you go in, because even if they haven't killed anyone yet, that doesn't mean they won't. They're angry, and they're armed, and even for two of you, a hundred men is a lot." He waits a moment, probably for me to say something, then goes on, "I don't expect you to say yes to this, all things considered, but I have other things I need to be handling, so I can't go and deal with it myself. I don't know what your deal is these days—you look like hell, and you're drunk at six in the morning—"

"I'm only kinda' drunk."

"But in any case, what choice do I have? Either you two deal with it, or the camp goes unchecked and keeps growing. I hate to entrust anything to you, but-"

"All right." I interrupt. "Sign me up."

Sanzo's face looks almost surprised, but he just snorts, "Hn." Like he'd known all along that that would be my answer. "He's not back yet. You might as well go home and wait for him to show up—he'll have more instructions from me by then—and then you can get started from there."

"Nah, I might as well get started now."

He gives me another, longer startled face, like I'm really surprising the hell out of him. Then he says, "The enthusiasm's a nice change of pace for a slacker like you, but did you hear a word I just said?"

"Sure, boss. I'm stoked. Been a while since I had a good fight." And that at least is true. I've been so bored I can barely stand it, and in a way, a crazy fight to the death sounds pretty inviting.

His expression turns more serious, more annoyed, "This is dangerous, Gojyo. The calamity's over, but everything is far from perfect, and these people are a byproduct of everything we always knew was going to happen when we reversed the minus wave. They're angry and violent, and there's a reason I want him to go with you."

I shrug, "I don't need him watching my back—"

"Since when?"

"—I'm a damn good solo act."

"You're an idiot. You don't even know what you're up against."

I think about that. It all sounds typical to me. Dangerous guys that could kill me and need their asses thrashed. Nothing new about that. "Don't worry about me. Whoever they are, I can handle it."

"I'm not wasting any energy on worrying about you, dumb ass. I need this done right. If they get away and scatter in the mountains, we'll be that much worse off. Right now we know exactly where they are and how many there are—"

"So I oughta' get going."

He repeats, "I need this done right, Gojyo."

"Yeah." I sigh and stretch my arms, "Then you picked the right guy for the job."

Sanzo practically growls, "You're gonna' get killed."

"Heh. We'll see. Say hey to Goku for me." I flash him an impudent grin, a quick wave, and head out the door.

I walk five miles northwest, just like he said to, and that only takes me about an hour, so by the time I get there, I'm almost totally sober, and I can't figure out what his deal was, acting like I can't do this by myself. You'd think that after going on the journey to India, he woulda' learned not to doubt me, but then again, it's Sanzo, and he's an asshole.

I don't need anyone watching my back to do this, and even if I do, it doesn't matter, because nobody's here with me, and that's just something I have to deal with.

The camp is ragged and piss poor, just how I expected it to be, with some crummy tents and equipment, and everyone running around in hand-me-down military uniforms that don't match. They're all youkai, like Sanzo said, and there are probably about a hundred, even though I don't stop to count. The sun is fully risen, so I just march right in, throw my cigarette down, and get ready to deal out justice in full. It's been a long time since I had a good fight, so even though I'm tired, I'm ready to rumble, and from the way all of them are gawking at me, they don't have the first clue what to think. They're not ready to go. I am though. I'm ready to do whatever it takes, even if I'm kinda' gambling some pretty high stakes right now.

In the end though, it's not a big deal, right? I'm in my twenties, but I'm not some stupid, snot-nosed kid either. I've done this kind of thing a hundred times over again.

Never alone though, Gojyo. A patient, unreal voice in my head reminds me.

Sometimes I hear that voice and remember what it sounded like in real life, but it's whatever, because everything it's saying is just what I imagine he'd actually say, if he were with me. So really, it's just my voice.

I stop in the middle of the camp, with everyone gathered around, looking me up and down with interest, probably thinking I came to join their crew, and I don't even bother asking to speak to the man in charge. I just light a new cigarette and say, "Disband. Or I'm gonna' kill all of you."

Everyone laughs at me like I'm crazy, but maybe there's a good reason for that. It's not every day some guy just walks into your rebel camp and tells you to beat it. Then they make fun of me for a minute or two and talk about how crazy I am, and say all the normal bullshit about how I'm scrawny and effeminate and barely out of diapers, and yaddy yaddy yah.

Some guy who's probably the leader I didn't ask for, steps up to the plate and asks me who the hell I am and what the hell I think I'm doing, and tells me I better disband before I get myself hurt, or worse.

I don't answer. I don't need to: I summon my shakujou, and that's all they need to see to know it's on.

It feels like it goes on forever. They come at me, four or five at a time, attacking with hatchets and blades and knives and clubs and all kinds of other tools, like shovels and rakes and whatever, and they're mean about it. They don't like having some guy wander into their camp and tell them to disband. Still, at first, I don't think they want to kill me. They fight like they just want to knock me out, maybe lock me up and question me about who sent me and why he didn't show up himself, and why he cares in the first place that they're around.

All I have to do is cut off a few heads to get them to change their minds about how to deal with me.

It takes longer than I expected, but I lose track of time right away. I'm barely aware of the sun climbing higher and higher above me as we fight, me fending off handful after handful, and them getting angrier and angrier. The shakujou's like a part of me now—I've had it a long time, and I used it almost every day when we went to India—I haven't used it in a while, since we got home, but that doesn't mean I forgot how to use it. All around me there are limbs flying and blood splashing and men screaming.

I take a little bit of damage when I've killed about twenty of them—a shallow slice in the arm, and another cut across the back—but I don't feel half bad. I'm completely sober, and I'm having the time of my life, because it's been forever since I got to cut anything up.

They just get angrier. It's got to be annoying to watch one guy take out thirty men all by himself. They bust out some guns, but that doesn't worry me. I'm used to watching out for gunfire, and besides, it's hard for them to aim at me when I'm going head-to-head with their comrades. More than once, a gunman blows the head off one of his friends, and the ferocity around me increases.

Someone grabs my jacket and I shell it off. It's a cold, mid-October day, the air is thin and the sky is pale, but I've got sweat and blood running down my face and arms. I'm breathing hard and grinning. I've missed this shit.

The only thing that could make it better would be to have Hakkai fighting at my back.

I push that thought away, because there's no time for it right now.

A really big guy comes at me, and the others all back off to watch and cheer him on—they sound pretty sure he'll finish me off, so I figure he's their strongest man or something. He's armed with twin battle axes, but they're rusty and crappy, and each of his arms is almost as big around as my whole torso, but he doesn't look too smart. I fight him a while, dancing back and forth with him, exchanging slash for slash, neither of us ever landing a blow. I feel one of the axes breeze past my face.

It misses, but it freaks me out. That was so long ago now, and I've almost completely put it behind me, but I can still remember how it made me feel, being twelve and watching her come at me, totally wanting to hack me into tiny pieces.

Yeah. That still freaks me out a lot.

Biting back a yelp, I lurch away from him, take a bad step, twist my ankle a little, and fall into the arms of some enemies who are clustered behind me. They all cheer and laugh and go crazy like they won, holding my arms tightly. Some douche bag grabs me by the hair and jerks my head back, so the big guy with the axes has a clear shot to cut it right off my shoulders. He stands over me and hefts an ax up across his shoulder.

My heart's beating so fast and so hard, it might burst. I battle away the urge to scream.

The voice is the only shred of him around, a clear reminder that he's not here to save me.

You have got to keep calm.

Easier said than done.

Right before the ax falls, I summon all my strength and rip away.

The blade goes sawing through a group of his comrades, chopping off their legs and arms and even their heads.

For a moment, he's too stunned to move.

With a single flick of the chain, his head's rolling too, and I'm already off to fight the next challenger.

Now though, I'm starting to wear down. Almost getting killed with an ax—again—has me gun shy, and I let my guard down a couple times, barely manage to avoid getting shot or maimed or decapitated myself.

How many are left anyway? I lost count a while ago of how many I've killed. I just know that I'm tripping over a body with every step I take, and my boots are sloshing through blood.

Perhaps you never should have come to do this by yourself…

"I can handle it."

I fight that much more fiercely, slicing through groups of them like they're made of butter, over and over and over until I'm covered from head to toe in blood. Their leader attacks me. He's got a pistol and a pretty nice katana, and he's hell-bent to kill me. He clips my left shoulder pretty good and blood pours down my arm and drips from my elbow, but that just pisses me off, and I drive at him, going right in for the kill, face to face. He's not expecting it, and he probably thinks I'm crazier than ever. He takes a pop shot at me, but the bullet barely grazes my neck. I knock him down and cut his head off too.

More guys rush me from behind. They're coming at me ten at once now. How many have I killed?

I'm exhausted, and there's no end to this in sight.

I push them back, and there's a short pause in the fray, so I scan the area around me, but I don't see anybody I know, and now that I think about it, I'm not exactly used to being on the battlefield all alone. Not anymore.

It would be nice if one of them would show up…

But that's definitely not going to happen, so again, no point in thinking about it.

I throw myself back into the fight and keep pushing. My throat is dry, so is my tongue, my face feels swollen from the blows I've taken, my wounds are stinging. Still, it isn't so bad. There are probably only fifty left now.

Fifty. Holy shit.

How long is it going to be before I can get out of this and go home?

It's starting to feel like hell now. My head's aching and I'm thirsty. I'm used to having someone around to watch my back, so it's way too often that a bastard gets behind me and almost knifes me when I'm not paying attention, and as the fight goes on, that gets more and more common. Eventually, I do get stabbed, but I know it's coming, so I manage to turn to the side, take the knife right in the side instead of through the lungs, and it glances off my rib and tears through my muscle.

It hurts like fuck, but it's not the worst I've had.

You just need to focus.

How am I ever going to get out of this?

I slice another arm off. There are still so many of them left, and I'm starting to think Sanzo could have been wrong about the numbers. There are more than a hundred. There have to be.

How am I gonna' get out of here?

Focus. That's how. You keep your head and just keep fighting, and you'll make it.

It's the only advice I have—hell, it's the only encouragement I have—and it's my only choice, aside from surrendering or dying or running.

I could surrender, but nobody would come and save me, so they'd probably kill me eventually. If I die, I definitely lose. And run? There's no way I'm running back to Sanzo and telling him I couldn't do it alone.

There's nothing to do but keep fighting and win. It might take hours and hours, but at least I'll come out ahead.

Right now, I'd settle for breaking even.

My legs are getting wobbly and my whole body is throbbing, muscles shaking, knuckles aching from clenching the shakujou so tight.

In a way, they're slowing down too, coming at me one or two at a time, taking forever to attack in the first place, hanging back and waiting for their turn, but I don't think it's because they're scared. I think it's because they don't think I'm going to last much longer.

But they're wrong. So wrong.

I'm not gonna' lay down and die. Not here. Not doing some bullshit errand for Sanzo.

I always said I wasn't going to die doing one of his stupid jobs, and I still wasn't going to.

Yes, but you were careless this time, Gojyo. You shouldn't have come up here alone.

What choice did I have?

You could have waited a few hours, like Sanzo told you to.

But what difference would that make? Having Goku with me wasn't going to be the same as…

I can't think about that shit now.

I attack the next man, beat his face in with the shaft of my shakujou, screaming, I keep fighting, hacking, slashing, ripping, sawing and slicing through everything that moves. I just have to try harder, and then, before I know it, I'll be out.

Splitting pain shoots through my skull, starting at the base of my head and spreading out and up, then my vision goes black and I fall forward, arms flailing, hands searching for anything I can grab onto to stay upright. I lose my grip on my shakujou as I'm going down.

When my vision clears, a man is standing over me with his sword raised, seconds from stabbing me through the heart, but I scramble out of the way, and he narrowly misses me.

My weapon's gone, so I have to hesitate a second to summon it again, then I cut the guy with the sword right in half, his body flops over in two different pieces.

"Bring it on, you bastards!" I scream. Blood is dripping into my eyes. My head throbs.

I attack them, carelessly, throwing myself into them taking swing after swing at them, but my vision is blurry, a little, and I miss a few swings. I get kicked in the stomach and stumble, fighting to stay on my feet.

Losing control and giving into panic and fighting heedlessly will not get you out of this fight, Gojyo.

That voice. It's so weird to have it interfering every passing second. Too bad it can't help me.

I whip the sickle around me in a broad circle, taking out ten or fifteen of them at once, and more blood sprays over me. It's all I can see or smell or feel: thick, sticky, red blood. I don't know how many enemies are left, but it's starting to look like I won't get out of it.

I fight and fight and fight. The sun is directly overhead, but I don't care. I can't do anything but keep fighting until I win or fall. More of them come at me. Somebody narrowly misses shooting me. I sever his hand. My leg burns, and when I look down, it's coated, the whole thigh, in bright red. I scream out of frustration and attack crazily. I cut through about five people, consecutively, but it doesn't matter. It's starting to look like I might actually die doing this, like Sanzo said.

That guy cannot be right.

I hate it all. I hate it all so much. I hate the way things have been going lately, and I hate the way things are, and I really hate that I can't fix them, and that I don't know how to, even if I wanted to. I hate the horrible feelings that have built up inside me, and the fact that I can't make them go away. Not by myself.

I hate, hate, hate to be alone. That has never changed.

More than anything, I hate that Hakkai is gone.

Yelling at the top of my lungs, I whip around to take on the next wave of them.

There's just one guy standing there, dripping with blood already, holding a wound in his stomach, and staring at me with eyes as big as plates, so I stop short, scream dying away, and face him, shakujou shaking in my grip, saturated in pain and blood, barely able to stand, barely able to see past the veil of wet red over my eyes.

The guy looks pretty young. Like twenty or twenty one. He's just gaping at me still. We face each other a while, both of us fighting to breathe, it feels like, and then, finally, he gasps, "Wh-who the hell…are…you?"

With a jerk of my head, I lower my weapon and let it disappear, practically whispering, "I have no idea."

For another second, he stares at me, not even blinking, and then, carefully, he starts to back away, never taking his eyes off me. When he's gotten a good ten paces out of my reach, he turns and runs, and never once looks back, and I'm left standing there with all the men I killed.

I stare around at the massacre, and I can barely believe it. I can barely believe they're all dead. A whole hundred? Unless some of them ran off, but I don't know why they would. They definitely had to have thought I'd be easy to take out.

And considering the way I've been lately, and how much I drank last night, how little I slept, I probably should have been.

I grope around for my cigarettes, but they're supposed to be in my coat pocket, and my coat is gone, hidden somewhere in the bloody mess around me. At last, I just snort and forget about it. I still have my lighter anyway—I can buy a new pack of cigarettes, but my lighter is one of a kind, and it stayed with me the whole way to India and back, so I don't want to lose it. Ever.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I start to pick my way across the battlefield, feet dragging, tripping over bodies and slipping in muddy, mucky, reddish puddles. The reek of death is all around me, but I ignore it and stumble back into the woods; I don't know what time it is, and I don't know how long that took: I just want to go home.

I start coughing when I've only gone a little ways, and I can't stop for a long time. I'm coughing so hard, it hurts, and I can't breathe, and I'm spitting up saliva and blood, even though I don't know if that's because I have internal bleeding, or if I just got hit in the mouth too many times. Exhausted, I fall to my knees, clinging to the trunk of a tree, cough and cough and cough until I'm on the verge of passing out, and then, finally, it stops, and I can breathe again, so I make myself get up and keep walking.

Forever I walk, but I don't know if it's the right direction. I know I need to go down. South. But…I can't tell which way is which. Sometimes I feel like I'm going in circles. The whole way, I feel like I'm never going to make it. I'm starting to feel dizzy, and my whole body is shaking and cold, sweat is pouring down my face and arms, mixing with the blood, stinging my eyes. Before long, I start to feel pretty sick, and it takes all I've got not to fall down and throw up. I can't believe I have to walk a whole hour just to get back to Keiun. And home? Damn. That feels like it's days away.

After what seems like days, I start to give up hope that I'll ever make it back. I'm obviously going into shock, and even if I'm not some medical genius who picked up and went back to college, I know that's not good.

Before too much longer, I can't walk anymore, and I fall down on my face, dangerously close to passing out.

The woods are peaceful and bright. I'm lying right in the weak, October sun, with birds chirping all around me, and I can barely stand to move, so I don't care about the peace or nature or the sun or the birds, or even my life, really. I just want to lay still and rest a while. And when I'm done resting, I'll get up and go back down to Keiun. Just a little rest. Just to close my eyes a second or two. I'm not going to sleep out here in the middle of nowhere, I'm just going to rest my eyes.

Everything hurts so much, I almost can't feel the pain in the first place. I know I'm bleeding, but other than that, my thoughts are cloudy and distant. All I know is, they're all dead—I did my job, like I said I would—and Sanzo's gonna' have to face the fact that I did something right for once, even by myself. It'll be good to knock him down a peg.

Yeah…but I'm not making it home… I think, tiredly.

Even in death, it's nice to know he was wrong.

I fumble around and find that I have my cigarettes after all, in the back pocket of my jeans, so I dig one out. The tear in my arm is gushing dark blood.

That imaginary voice comes again. It's a clean cut at least. I suppose it'll be easy enough to close.

It's in my head. It's all in my head, and I know it. Nobody's here to stitch me up or heal my wounds. Nobody's here at all.

I'm on my own.

But I've had worse. This pain is nothing.

It was certainly careless of you…

Suddenly, I'm laughing like a maniac, my voice ringing through the trees, silencing the birds and everything else for miles around, but it doesn't seem any less surreal than his does.

What I really want to do is scream. Just scream and scream and scream.

My eyes are burning, after a moment, and I feel something hot and wet running down my face, to my ears, but I pretend it's blood, and just keep on laughing like I'm insane. Maybe I am insane. Maybe Sanzo was right, about me not being able to hack it.

Not like it matters. I'm done for this time.

"Nice knowin' ya', buddy." I choke.

I close my eyes, but they're only closed a moment, then I can feel someone standing over me. Through the haze of pain and my exhausted thoughts and the red filter over my vision, it almost looks like it could be him.

He laughs a little bit too. "My, aren't you an absolute wonder?"

"An' you're a sight for sore eyes." I reach up and grab his collar, pull him down with me. There's nobody I'd rather have with me when I die. It almost chases the pain away to know he's there, to know it was all a dream, and I was never alone.

He puts his arms around my back and my neck, cradles my bleeding carcass against his shoulder, and I feel warm. It'll all be okay now.

Of course it will. He'll heal me, and then he'll drag me home, and scold me for being careless, and life will go on, the way it's always been.

The smell of sake and laundry is stronger and more real than anything else I can sense.

"Damn, man…" I murmur against his shoulder, "I missed you like hell."

"I never left; don't you know any better?"

"Naw." I close my eyes again, still smiling, "Guess not."

"You're an idiot."

I open them.

Sanzo's standing above me, gold hair shining in the sunlight, but I can't see his face.

Slowly, I blink, but nothing changes. It's still Sanzo, I'm on the ground, barely more than a bloody corpse, and Hakkai is nowhere to be seen.

"How'dya' figure?" I chuff.

"What the hell were you thinking? You went up there not even knowing what you were supposed to do or what you were supposed to get, or anything. You didn't even listen to the end of my explanation. And, you almost got yourself killed. Are you some sort of fucking kamikaze now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing. Not a damn thing."

"Sure. Then what'dya' come all the way out here to get me for?"

He shifts, puffs his cigarette, "You have no idea where you are, do you?"

Where I am…?

I try to sit up to get a look around, but I can barely move, and pain cuts through me like a knife to the bone.

"I can't believe how stupid you are, falling down to die just a few hundred yards from a Buddhist temple."

Does that mean I actually dragged myself back to Keiun?

I start to tell him off, but I choke on my own blood, and the words gurgle away into a painful cough.

Sanzo sighs and reaches down, grabs my shirtfront, roughly, "Get the hell up, you son of a bitch. Now."

"Son of a bitch…" I a bitter smile curves on my lips, then I laugh, shortly, "I really am."

"Shut up, Gojyo." Sanzo chuffs under his breath.

I can barely stand, so I put my arm around his neck and lean on him, and he actually lets me. He actually starts hauling my broken ass back over to the temple, where I can just make out the roof, towering way above me. As we go along, I take one last, almost desperate look around, making sure it was all in my head. Making sure he's not there.

He's not.

I don't remember passing out, but I guess I must have, because I wake up in a room that's smaller than my bedroom back home, and twice as empty, with nothing but the narrow cot I'm lying on and a single lamp that's burning off to the side. It's night outside, so I must have been out for a while, and my wounds have been half-ass tended to, with a makeshift bandage job and a few stitches where they're needed. There are probably a couple monks running around Keiun that know some first aid, at least enough to stitch up the slashes I came back with, and maybe I should be grateful for that, but more than anything, I'm annoyed, because this isn't how things are supposed to be, and it's my fault they turned out this way.

Things are sort of fuzzy to me, but I guess the fight on the mountain was real, even if now it kind of feels like a messed up dream, and Sanzo probably saved my life, dragging me back here.

When I've been lying there a few minutes, the door slides open, and Sanzo steps in, not much more than a white shadow in the dim light, spewing a thin cloud of smoke. "Did you finally wake up?" He demands, gruffly, like it's a huge offense to have passed out after pulling an all-nighter and then climbing the mountain to fight and kill at least a hundred guys.

When I laugh, it feels like something inside of me is breaking. I don't have anything to laugh about at all. "Funny, huh?"

He's quiet for a moment, and then he growls, "What the hell's the matter with you?"

Slowly, I sit up, only half paying attention to him as I try to block out the pain that shoots through me.

"What did you think? That you suddenly have some free pass to be even more careless and stupid than usual?"

I draw a sharp breath, doing my best not to wince, "What're you bitching about? I got your damn job done."

Sanzo looks seriously angry when I say that.

"Hell, last I knew, that was the only thing you cared about to start with."

He doesn't say anything. I wonder if maybe he doesn't know what to say.

Shoving the pain aside, I heave myself to my feet, groan. It feels like someone's stabbing me in the stomach.

"What do you think you're doing now?" He snaps.

"Job's done, right? I'm heading home." My leg is on fire, and my arm is tingling with numbness from bicep to fingers, my head is spinning, and honestly, I feel pretty sick, but I can't let that shit stop me. I shove my feet into my boots, not caring if they're laced up or not, and grab my shirt, glad to find my cigarettes and lighter nearby. I could really use one about now.

Sanzo hisses, "You've gotta' be kidding. Are you really that much of a dumb ass?"

"Hey, I figured you'd be happy to have me out of your hair."

"Believe me, I would be."

"Cool. So then, I'm gonna' go. Send me a check later."

Without warning, Sanzo grabs the front of my shirt, giving me a rough jerk that surprises the hell out of me, and glares into my eyes, "Drop the stupid act, kappa. Do you want to die?"

I laugh, "Nobody wants to die, boss."

He keeps glaring daggers at me, but maybe he doesn't know how to stop me or even what to say in this situation. Eventually, he snarls, a little bit maliciously, "Purposely taking idiotic risks isn't going to change anything, you know. He's still gone, and you-"

Angrier than ever, I jerk loose. He isn't expecting me to, so it's easy, and then I turn my back on him, heading for the door, "You think that's what this is about? Better keep guessing, boss—you're way off the mark."

"I don't need to guess: it's obvious what's going on. Don't expect me to make some big deal out of it and try to intervene though, because it's not my problem you're so messed up, and I don't give enough of a damn about you to go out of my way to fix it."

"Okay." I say, with forced cheer, just to piss him off. I don't want to argue about any of this. I don't even want to think about it.

Sanzo glares at me a little longer, and even though he just said he wouldn't intervene, he says, "You're stupid if you think you can walk home in this condition. If you value your life, you'd better stay here until you've healed a little."

"What's that, a death threat? Sounded awfully close to giving a damn, Sanzo." I look back at him, pointedly, daring him to take this any further in either direction.

It surprises the hell out of me to hear him say, "Even I don't think you should go home right now. What does that tell you?"

"Eh, whatever. I don't think I'm hurt that bad. You know, on second thought, I'll bill you." With that, I throw the door open and step out.

He doesn't come after me—he wouldn't in a million years, even if he's actually worried—and I go into the hall, fighting back the twinges of pain that speed through my torso and limbs, and lighting my cigarette.

I can't believe how conceited Sanzo's acting. As if I went out there over some stupid sense of angst or regret; no, that's not it. That's not it at all. It's just that nothing makes sense right now, and maybe I thought I'd find something that does make sense while I was there. Or maybe I'm just bored.

Life is so boring now. Everything I've always done to keep myself entertained or even to keep myself alive, bores the hell out of me. It was boring before Hakkai left, and now that he's gone the boredom is worse than ever. How are you supposed to move on and find something new without your best friend?

It's hard. It's harder than I thought it would be.

I mean, did I actually think that when he was gone I could fall back into place with my routine, like it never changed? Like I could just go back to my punk's life like Hakkai never existed? How could I think something so dumb? I learned within two days of him being gone that there was no way that was ever going to happen.

I still tried though, Hakkai…I still tried the best I could to make it work without you.

I haven't gotten very far when I hear footsteps coming up behind me, and Goku's voice calls out, "Hey, idiot! Where're you goin'?"

He sounds kind of peeved, so I stop and turn back to look at him, "What?"

The kid's storming toward me, and his face shows that he's more than just peeved, he's straight pissed. He's fucking furious.

He's also half a head taller than I am now, and a lot heavier and built sturdier, and right now I feel like he could knock me over with a feather, so I take a step back.

"What the heck's wrong with ya', dumb ass? Why'd you go without me?"

I figure he's angry that he got left out, "Relax, little monkey. There'll be plenty of other fights for you to clean up in. So you missed one. What's the big deal?"

"The big deal?!" He practically yells.

His voice makes my ears ring. "Somebody had to get the job done."

He's almost to me now. I wonder for a second if he's going to charge me and ram me right against the wall. "Yeah, but ya' didn't have ta' go all by yourself! Why didn't ya' wait for me?"

"There'll be other fights, Goku, and this one wouldn't have even been a challenge for you."

He's right in front of me, so he stops, glares in this serious, adult way that makes me want to laugh at him.

"You really don't get it, do you?" He demands.

"Not even a little." I lean back against the wall and keep smoking. "Everybody's pissed about something. All I did was handle the situation Sanzo asked me to take care of."

Goku kind of gets in my face, "Idiot. Ya' almost died."

"Yeah, but I didn't."

"Why didn't ya' just wait for me? It's not like ya' actually care about the stuff Sanzo wants!"

"Because, I'm a solo act now. I work crap like that alone."

He stares at me a little longer, and the anger softens, slightly, but it doesn't go away completely. His voice lowers too, "So what? If he can't go with ya, nobody can?"

I try to stall so I can think of a good answer. "What? Who?"

"Hakkai."

"Oh. Nah, it's not that. It's just that I did the teamwork thing for way too long, and now I just wanna' do shit my way. You get that, don't you?"

Goku looks kind of confused, but I notice that it isn't the same kind of blank, stupid-ass-monkey confusion he used to get. It's more like he doesn't know if he totally believes me. "Yeah, well I think he'd kick your ass if he knew what ya' did yesterday."

It hardly registers with me that I must have slept for more than twenty-four hours. I know he's right. Hakkai would be straight pissed if he heard about what a stupid thing I just did. I know it's stupid—I knew it was stupid when it went. But I knew I wasn't going to die, that's the point.

"Who—oh, Hakkai. Nn, maybe. What's it matter? You gonna' tell on me, baby monkey?" I grin at him, even though the spinning in my head has gotten worse and I kind of feel like throwing up and passing out.

I totally expect him to scream at me and call me cockroach and perv and kappa and all the other dumb insults he's come up with over the years, but he doesn't, and I'm more surprised by that than anything.

Instead, he shakes his head, "Don't…do that again, 'kay?"

"We'll see. Like I said, I wanna' work that crap by myself from now own, so I-"

Goku touches my shoulder, "Please, Goj?"

It startles me, the sincerity in his eyes and the pleading sound of his voice, and the gentleness of his hand on me. I've never seen the monkey look quite like that, and I can see how worried he is. That makes me feel bad—I didn't mean to make the kid worry…I guess I didn't think about that. Finally, I shrug, "'Kay. Sorry."

"I mean it, Gojyo. Don't do that again."

"I'm not gonna', all right? What's the big deal?"

"Ya' really don't know?"

"Guess not." I lie.

"Geez, you're stupid, Gojyo."

I'm not about to stand around and get called stupid by the monkey, so I try to shrug his hand off and step around him.

Goku presses me back into the wall, like I'm just a little kid. "Where're ya' gonna' go now?"

"Home, I guess. I'm beat."

"…Maybe you should hang out here for a coupla' days."

"What for?"

"'Cause you're hurt kinda' bad."

"I've had worse." I rub my forehead. If I don't sit down soon, I'm definitely going to pass out, and Goku's slowing me down.

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't mean it's cool for ya' to just walk off like this."

"Whatever Goku." I'm finally starting to feel annoyed with him, "It's not gonna' kill me to walk home, now get out of my way."

He doesn't move.

I push him aside, after a short staring contest, "I said move."

Goku lets me go. I know he has no idea how to stop me any better than Sanzo did, so there's nothing they can do besides let me go, and maybe check on me later, if they even bother to do that.

"Just be careful, 'kay, Goj?"

"Yeah, yeah, is there any other way to be?"

"An' you should get a doctor ta' look at you."

"You know it."

"Get a shrink while you're at it."

I know that's not a joke, not even a little, but I still laugh about it like it is.

Nobody laughs with me, and that's the story of my life.

I feel Goku staring after me the whole time I'm walking down the hall, until I go around a corner and he can't see me anymore.

"Geez. What's the deal anyway? I'm not hurt that bad." I'll go home, have a quick drink or two, take it easy, and be fine in a couple days, like always. I can't understand what they're flipping out for. You'd think they've never seen me do anything careless before.

By the time my house comes into view I still don't know what time it is or even what day it is, and I can't actually remember the last time I was here, and I'm not exactly thrilled to see it, even though I'm ridiculously tired and in pain. I shove the door open—it's not locked—and it creaks. The whole house is dark, but I call out, "I'm ba-ack."

No one answers.

I stumble over into the kitchen and flick on the light, find a shot glass that isn't too dirty and grab a bottle. I don't know what it is, since I apparently tore the label off it at some point, and everything looks the same to me. Smells like either whiskey or rum. It's all good, so I sit down at the only clear spot on the table and pour myself a shot, then I sit there for a while, drinking, and looking around the house and listening to the quiet. It's strange how, even though I've been living in the same place for so long, it suddenly doesn't seem the same anymore. It feels like someone else's house, like I'm just crashing here a while.

After a few drinks, my head starts to spin. I sigh and take one more shot before folding my arms over the table and laying my head down for just a moment.

It's only a second later when Hakkai comes into the kitchen, Jeep riding up on his shoulder, chirping and whistling, cheerfully. He stops in the doorway, and they both look at me, Hakkai smiling, Jeep bristling and shaking his wings out, excitedly, "Good morning, Gojyo."

Outside, the sun is up, and it looks like a nice day, for October.

I stay at the table, even though all I want is to get up and go to him and wrap him in a bear hug, or sling my arm around his neck, or punch him in the shoulder, or just stand there, next to him, for a couple minutes, but I can't move, so I sit there and look up at him, sort of startled, "H-hey… What's up?"

"Oh, the usual routine. And what about yourself? You're up rather early, so I hope you haven't been sitting there all night."

"Um, I dunno." I glance around the house, but everything's where it's supposed to be—nothing's moved, nothing's changed—and I wonder how long I've been sitting there, but I can't remember if I passed out, drinking, or if it's something else.

Hakkai keeps smiling as he enters the kitchen, "Well, I'll make us some breakfast, and then, perhaps you'll gain the clarity you need to sort it all out."

I watch as he goes around the room, getting the shit he needs to make breakfast, and the longer I watch, the more convinced I feel that he's actually there, and that I must have made that other thing up, "Dude, 'Kai…"

The tone of my voice must alert him that something's up, because he turns to me, seriously, but still smiling, "Is something wrong?"

"No. No, everything's cool." I can barely choke those words out, because I can barely believe this is real. I can barely believe that everything really is cool, but he's acting so normal, it has to be. He's just there with me, and that's beyond cool. It's too good to be true.

He keeps watching me, patiently.

I mutter, "Damn, man, I had this really crazy dream that you were gone."

"I was gone?" He tilts his head, very faintly, and then he looks more indulgent than ever. "What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno'. Just gone." It's all starting to seem more and more stupid by the second.

"I see. I left you behind, did I?"

"Yeah, man, it was really nuts. And Sanzo was being a dick, and I almost got killed. It was so crazy."

"Why would you have such a dream? I already told you, long ago, that I would never leave you behind."

I do remember that, from years ago, right after we met. He said he wouldn't ever just leave me out of nowhere… Why shouldn't I believe him? I trusted him with everything.

"Right." I grin, feeling way better now. "Just a fucked up dream."

He smiles back, "Of course it was. Where in the world would I ever go without you?"

It's such a relief to hear him say that, I actually start to laugh—a short, nervous chuckle, because I hate to think I look weak or stupid or needy right now—and then I reach out to him, because I want to touch him for a sec. I want to feel, with my own hands, that he's actually there, or else I might never genuinely believe it.

Hakkai's still smiling, brightly, but he suddenly turns away, "Excuse me, Gojyo." Then he walks back into the living room.

The smile falls off my face, "Hey, 'Kai?"

He heads right for the door.

"'Kai?"

The door swings open and falls shut.

"'Kai!"

I raise my head up off the table, where it's pillowed against my arms, throbbing, throat dry, eyes burning, then stand up immediately, staggering slightly, "Hey, Hakkai." The house is quiet and dark—way too quiet and dark. It's dark outside too, and the clock says two-thirty-eight.

I follow him through the living room, to the door, "Hey, Hakkai!"

Everything around me is empty: there's nothing but my handful of feeble, cheap shit, but I still can't believe this is reality. I don't want it to be. "Hakkai?" I throw the front door open and stumble down the stoop to stand in the yard, turning all around, searching for him, desperately, because he was just here, just a second ago. "Hakkai!"

Nobody answers. The forest around me is totally quiet.

I shout at the top of my lungs, "HAKKAI!"

Forever passes, and I wait for him to answer. Any time I've ever called for him like that, he always answered me, no matter what. If he's somewhere he can hear me, and I call, he answers, and he comes back. Always. Nobody's ever done that before. Not even Jien. I could have screamed after Banri until my lungs bled, and he wouldn't have even looked over his shoulder. Hakkai's the only one who comes when I call for him.

Not this time though.

I hate it. I hate that feeling of calling and of not having him answer. I hate knowing that, wherever he is, he can't hear me.

Slowly, I give up. My shoulders slump, and I drop my head a little, turn to go back inside.

Just a dream. Just a stupid, idiotic, meaningless dream…

Still, I'm not totally convinced he's not here somewhere, sleeping, maybe. Maybe he'll leave soon, maybe he won't even be here tomorrow, but he has to be here now, so I go to his room. It's shut, like it usually is when he sleeps, and my hands are shaking as I turn the knob and carefully push it open, "Hey, 'Kai?"

Nothing. Just a bunch of boxes stacked off to one side that I haven't gone through yet, but even his bed is gone, so the room is empty.

A long moment passes, and I stand there, staring, breathlessly. At last, I heave a sigh, and lean, heavily, into the doorway.

"'Course not." My own voice says, softly, and then, for some reason I can't explain, I sink to the floor and lie down there, in his room, on my stomach, all my wounds throbbing ad burning unbearably. Looking up through the curtain of my hair, I can see the frosty moonlight on the tree outside, the branches etching across the sky, and the stars beyond them, but the house is still, and the moon is no comfort at all.

I'm alone.