Written for the LJ community saiyuki–time, time limit 40 minutes, for the prompt "unexplored territory".
Goku had been sitting for almost an hour, fidgeting and plucking at blades of grass. It was way past lunchtime when Sanzo stormed out of the Palace of the Setting Sun looking like a thundercloud in full priestly regalia.
"Pack," Sanzo growled.
Goku ignored Sanzo's ill humor—he was used to it, after all—and broke into a wide grin. A couple of years ago he would have had to practically grovel at Sanzo's feet before he would be allowed to accompany the priest on a trip.
"For how long?" he asked, hopping from one foot to the other. "Where are we going? Can I have lunch first?"
"We're going west. However long it takes. Just pack." Sanzo's hand moved towards his waist. Goku danced out of reach, unsure whether he was reaching for the paper fan or the gun, and not really wanting to find out.
Goku scurried off to gather his possessions. He only owned one change of clothes—it had been a long time since Sanzo bought him anything, since that usually only happened when he grew so much that there was a noticeable amount of bare ankle and wrist showing. And Goku had hardly grown at all in the last year. Personally, he thought that he wasn't getting enough to eat. Hakkai had suggested that he drink more milk. Gojyo had only laughed in his face and said that he was short because he was so stupid (at that point, Sanzo had shot a hole in the wall and snarled that if there was a correlation between height and intelligence, Gojyo would be two feet tall).
Really, it was a good thing Goku didn't have much, because he'd probably be carrying all of Sanzo's stuff as well as his own.
They started off within an hour—without lunch. Goku was excited enough to be on the road that he could almost ignore the grumbling in his stomach.
"Hey, Sanzo, how far west are we going?" Goku said.
"India."
"Is that a long way?"
"Yes."
Goku stared at the distant mountains, and smiled. He'd wanted to explore the world more than anything, to try to shake dreams of an eternal stone prison, and a sense of isolation and nothingness that he still felt more frequently than he wanted to admit. Maybe along the way he would discover the answer to some of those questions that he had started to wonder about, even if Sanzo didn't care—why could he talk, if he'd never met anyone before Sanzo? Why could he read? Why did he have a name?
Goku couldn't give himself a past. It was the future that he was interested in. He would follow it all the way to where the sun set.
"Come on," he said, tugging at Sanzo's sleeve. "Let's go!"