Jσυяηєу Wєѕт -- :: ѕαу gσσd ηιgнт! :: --

He could feel the soft skin of the woman's hand on his cheek, and he did nothing to stop it from moving into his hair, entangling into the blonde locks. Purple eyes narrowed, then closed while a soft hum broke the silence. It had an eerie tone to it . . . Almost sounded like a song you may hear being played to charm a cobra, perhaps . . .

The humming continued, but another voice broke over it. This confused him slightly -- he didn't remember there being anyone else in the room but he and her. But perhaps he'd been wrong . . .

"Hush, Child, darkness will rise from the deep, and carry you down into sleep. Child, darkness will rise from the deep, and carry you down into sleep . . . Guileless son, I'll shape your belief, and you'll always know that your father's a thief. And you won't understand, the cause of your grief, but you'll always follow the voices beneath . . ."

The humming broke, was passed on to the woman who's arms the child was cuddled into, and the second voice began to chant a single word. One word, repeatedly, it almost sounded like a sutra being spoken softly with a melodic tune: "Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty. Loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, loyalty, only to me."

He felt a shiver pass through him. There was something about this that he didn't like . . . But he couldn't quite place a finger on it. He began to writhe in the arms of the woman who kept him bound to her bosom, but she only seemed to tighten her hold on him.

A loud sound -- something knocking against wood? -- crashed just near his left ear. He jumped slightly, and was startled out of his dream to find that he had fallen asleep against the wall just outside the inn. The tune and the sutra - like whispers still rang in his ears as he followed the arm up to the face to see just who it was who had awoken him from the darkness of what he would probably have discovered to be a nightmare had it lingered any longer.

He found the crimson - haired moron staring at him. He almost looked startled, with his cigarette half - hanging from his mouth, and one eyebrow arched with the other furrowed down. There was a silence that passed between them for only a short moment before Gojyo spoke up to share, indirectly, the reason he had caused Sanzo to spring back to consciousness.

"Yo, Sanzo, you alright?" he asked, letting his hand fall away from the wall so he could back off a bit more. This shifted his weight from the wall to his toes which he was crouched on, so he quickly decided it was a better idea to drop back on his ass and cross his legs, pulling his cigarette from his mouth. "Thought you were talkin' to yourself, but then I heard you tellin' somethin' to go away. . . . Ya looked pretty, uh, upset . . ."

The monk stared blankly at the man before him. He was still trying to make heads or tails of his dream, but there didn't seem to be any sense that could be derived from it. . . . And he had to wonder who those women had been. When he'd been a child, he was with his master, he hadn't been with any woman. And no one had ever bothered to try and sing him to sleep in the nights of discomfort -- he'd had to sneak into his master's room when he was most certain no one would catch him, and he would lay near the futon to listen to the calm breathing, and it would soothe him enough that he could return to his own room and sleep. . . . So why was he dreaming of this?

Turning his head away, he closed his eyes again, and Gojyo began to get up back into his previous position, thinking that the blonde had passed out again, but he settled down again when Sanzo finally spoke. "I'm fine . . . Wake me up again and I'll shoot you."

Now it was the Kappa's turn to turn on the blank stare. What the Hell was this guy's problem, anyway? If he'd been enjoying the dream, it would be one thing. But judging by the bitter expression, and that dark undertone to his voice when he'd responded, he clearly had not being doing any such thing. In fact, if he could be the judge of anything, he might say the monk was actually afraid.

"Whatever," he finally stated. He took one last drag off his cigarette, and pressed it to the cement porch they were perched upon. "Whenever you get over yourself, come in and eat. . . . The food's gonna be gone in five minutes with the way Goku's going at it." He flicked the cigarette butt into the coffee can he and Sanzo had been supplied to keep from littering the inn, and he pushed himself up, heading back inside.

". . . Loyalty, only to me . . ." Sanzo whispered. What exactly did it mean? The mind always touched on things from life, putting together images of people you might have only seen trailing the streets, or taking small bits of conversations and mixing them into the things you would only hear about over the radio, melting them to the subconscious will. So, obviously, this must play into his life somehow.

Perhaps the woman was significant to his oldest desire that he had long since blocked from his mind: the craving for a mother's affection. As a child, he'd been mostly contented with his Master's affection and attention. . . . But when the man had been killed, he had given in to a desideration for a mother figure. Quite obviously, no such thing came. But, why was it she had been singing? . . . Maybe somewhere, he wanted that, too. A lullaby . . .

. . . So, he could put something of a reason to that. Alright. Then, one thing out of the way. Or two, if the singing counted as an issue separate from the song she had chosen to be singing.

Right. What about the song itself? Could there even be a reason she had been singing such a dark, haunting song? Sanzo scoffed aloud as he sat up, slumping forward in a preparation for getting up. If one listened closely, all those precious fairy tales they so enjoy and all the gentle and tender lullabys a mother will croon to her child have some darkness behind it.

Take ' Rock a bye baby '. Who the fuck puts their kid in a tree, and watches the branch snap and cause the baby's death? . . . And, oh, what was her name . . . The bitch with the glass slipper? Her sisters cut off their fucking toes and their heels to try and fit into those shoes. Desperate, and fucked up.

He sighed, and gripped the doorway of the entrance to the inn which lay to his left, and slowly pulled himself up to his feet. How long had he been asleep, if it was already time for another meal? He'd eaten lunch just before coming out here to enjoy the decent weather and a cigarette. Which means now would be dinner. But seeing as the sun was still bright in the sumemr sky, it couldn't have been too late. He'd probably been out four to six hours . . . Great. Guess who'd be up all night?

The second he stepped into the building, he almost wanted to head right back out. That, or take out his gun and start firing. The rest of the group was somewhere down a hall and in a dining room, but from here, he could hear Goku howling about how Gojyo stole his pork bun, and Hakkai -- instead of actually doing anything -- having a grand old time with that annoying laughter of his. And he could be pretty sure that Gojyo was too busy stuffing his face with those reportedly stolen food.

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Hello, everyone. c: Just thought I'd introduce myself. As you can see, I'm Chococoa. You can call me that, Choco, or anything you can derive from my name: Vanilla. [ Yes. My name is Vanilla. kthnxbai. x; ]

Um. This is my first Saiyuki fanfiction. Possibly will be my only one for some time. But this will be continued if I get some reviews on it. o;

The song is Mordred's Lullaby by Heather Dale. It's actually about some King Arthur - era stuff. . . Sorry, I'm really bad with all the medieval . . . stuff. -headdesk-

Anyway, um. . . . I'm actually not too far into Saiyuki. But I'm trying my best off of like, the five volumes I've read . . . ! . . . I don't know why I'm going off of five volumes and trying to write a fanfiction worthy of internet posting. Damn. I'm done rambling now.

R & R. Don't flame, but constructive criticism is always, always appreciated.

. . That's all for now ~ . Hope to hear from some of you!