All Things Eventual
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Sanzo+Goku. Wouldn't really know what to call this. Could
be interpreted as entirely platonic love - but love nonetheless.
^_^
Written for Yuletide 2003. However, I can't be entirely certain
that more than one person actually read it, which is why I'm posting
it here. Needs a bit of work, but will stay as is for the time
being.
Please read and review. At this point I will take Anything. Feedback.
Comments. Flames. Constructive criticism. Irrelevant remarks,
if the fancy strikes you. Wait, did I say that out loud? ^_^;
Anyway . . . *puppy eyes* . . . onegaishimasu.
* * *
It was silent in the temple gardens.
It might have followed that the silence was peaceful. After all,
a sense of peace, of refuge, was the intended effect. A stillness
fabricated within this systematic imitation of nature.
This, however, was a very different sort of quiet; far from natural.
A stillness in which a sound would be lost; as if the very air
were a structure impenetrable, a mere illusion of a place familiar.
It may have been a place where he was once happy - or as close
to it as he had ever been.
But here, now, he was very much alone.
He was standing on a meticulously groomed cushion of moss, below
trees immobile in the stagnant air. He studied a leaf before him,
arranged neatly where it might have fallen if nature had as strong
a sense of the aesthetic as the monks who put it there thought
they did.
And then, on the edge of his sight, another leaf drifted down,
silent, swirling lazily on an intangible breeze.
There was a painful sense of displacement as he watched the leaf
settle at his feet. It was then that he realized that he was covered
with blood. He raised his hand before him and studied it, bemused,
wondering if the blood that stained his fingers belonged to him.
It was suddenly a struggle to stand. Had he been injured? Perhaps.
It would have accounted for quite a few things.
So. This was death. He hadn't the strength to feel disappointed.
The silence between them was tense, and heavy with
words unspoken. Gojyo sat on the thin mattress, habitual cigarette
hanging from his lips. It was Hakkai who spoke first, from where
he stood by the dirty window of the cheap hotel room.
"Are we going to lose them both?"
It was a question Gojyo didn't know how to answer.
"I suppose we'll just have to wait an see, ne?"
The absence of a smile on Hakkai's face was almost comforting.
Hakkai should have known from the start that it
was futile to try to deceive Son Goku. He may have been accused
more than once of being dim-witted, but the heretic saw more with
those golden eyes than most gave him credit for.
When Sanzo stopped breathing, Goku knew exactly what was going
on. And with one last wild look at what he had lost along with
Sanzo's life, he lost control, in accordance with all prediction.
Shortly after Goku's limiter had shattered, the clearing in which
they had been attacked looked like it had been painted with blood.
The very leaves dripped with gore; and that was before Seiten
Taisen, newly emerged, had turned to the only two youkai still
in less than ten pieces - his own companions.
Upon reflection, neither Gojyo nor Hakkai really understood how
they had survived the next few minutes. Gojyo attributed it to
Hakkai's sheer strength, after he had removed his limiters. Even
Kanzeon Bosatsu, when she arrived, looked mildly shocked. Goku
had the advantage of being more than willing, even delighted,
to kill everything in sight; Hakkai, even in his youkai form,
was not driven by bloodlust, but rather a drive to protect at
all of protection's deadly costs.
It was a weakness. And he recognized it for what it was. Which
was why it was lucky that the Goddess of Mercy arrived when she
did; they had been losing - badly.
It was raining in the temple gardens.
The rain was silent, as it struck the leaves of the overhead trees.
As the droplets filtered down to the ground, he could feel the
cool sting of water on his bloodied skin.
Drop by drop, the rain was washing the blood away.
The first sound that filtered through was the steady
rhythm of water against a windowpane; he knew the sound well,
and it only served to tie him further to the delirious dream of
a netherworldly Chou'an.
But the pain eating at the edges of his consciousness ruthlessly
drew him back.
"He's waking up." A soft, murmured voice . . . familiar.
But it didn't belong to Chou'an.
"About damn time." Neither did that voice.
An impatient sound was made, and the first voice spoke, a little
louder this time. "Sanzo."
"Hey, stupid priest."
He instinctively reached for his fan, gasping sharply at the pain
the motion caused, and more than a little angry when he realized
it wasn't anywhere within reach. He opened his eyes and attempted
a deadly glare in the general direction of the blur which seemed
to be two figures, standing nearby.
"Sanzo?"
Damn, his head hurt. "What the hell is going on?" His
voice was scratchy, and sounded hopelessly disused.
"We were attacked by a group of youkai . . . one that we
definitely weren't expecting. You were very badly injured."
Sanzo fixed a suspicious glare on Hakkai. "How badly
injured?"
Gojyo answered for him. "Let's just say that we were all
convinced you were going to stay dead this time, priest."
Hn. That bad? He'd bet Goku had thrown a fit.
Suddenly his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where is Goku?"
He didn't miss the look Gojyo and Hakkai exchanged. A cold feeling
akin to anger welled in him during the silence that followed.
"Well? Answer me!" he demanded.
"Goku . . . he's here," Hakkai said weakly.
Sanzo knew that whenever he was even the slightest bit injured,
Goku wouldn't leave him alone for a second. He'd be damned if
Goku was here, but not in the room. "What is this about?
Why isn't he here?"
"Sanzo," Hakkai began, shooting a warning look at Gojyo.
Support me and don't say anything insensitive, it said.
"Goku thought you were dead. His limiter shattered . . .
and he killed our attackers as Seiten Taisen, before turning on
us."
"Well, obviously he didn't succeed in killing you. So what's
going on?"
Hakkai couldn't look at him. You're not making this easy.
"Sanzo . . . he really thought you were dead."
Sanzo narrowed his eyes. "Well, I'm not dead. So where.
Is. He."
Gojyo cut in, seeing Hakkai's reluctance. "He never came
back to himself. Kanzeon Bosatsu tried to create a limiter for
him . . . and failed."
"What?" He couldn't school his features past
incredulity. It didn't help that the world was lurching, spinning,
darkening before his eyes, threatening to disappear altogether.
Suddenly it was hard to breathe. "Non . . . sense,"
he panted. He struggled to sit up, determined to overlook the
pain. "I'll do it . . . myself . . ."
"Sanzo!"
He hadn't even managed to free himself of the covers before the
silent dark claimed him once more.
"He'll live," Kanzeon Bosatsu said, dismissing
Sanzo's condition with a wave of a well-manicured hand. "We
have a more pressing problem on our hands."
"And Sanzo may be the only solution to that problem!"
Hakkai's polite demeanor was quickly dissolving into anger.
The Goddess of Mercy looked sharply into his flashing green eyes.
"Do you really think he can succeed where I have failed?"
"He can at least try," Hakkai said coldly.
"You've both done it before," Gojyo stepped between
them, trying to cool off a little of the animosity. "Why
is now the exception?"
Kanzeon's eyes focused momentarily on something far away, and
was silent for a long time. "This . . . has happened once
before," she said finally. "A youkai . . . though Son
Goku technically isn't one . . . can only wear a limiter if he
in some manner consents to it. There is no way to force Son Goku
back to his former self. At best, we can restrain him until he
decides he's ready. Until then . . . there is no more we can do."
"Just let me try," he growled, violet
eyes flashing, making it clear that he was not, in any sense of
the word, asking.
"Stupid fucking brat," he muttered, dragging his feet
as he slowly made his way to the room Hakkai had reluctantly indicated.
Barely managing to restrain the bloodthirsty youkai, Kanzeon Bosatsu
had appeared before the innkeeper and kindly informed his that
he would be housing as a guest the most powerful and deadly youkai
in all of existence. Being a religious man, the innkeeper deferred
to the Goddess of Mercy. Gojyo had thought that someone ought
to have told him that not only was the goddess' hermaphroditic,
she' was also an atrocious kisser.
Hakkai and Gojyo followed closely behind Sanzo as he made his
way to the heavily locked door; not that locks were for much of
anything but show. They gave each other a look when Sanzo shot
the locks open, yanked open the door, stumbled inside, and abruptly
slammed it behind him.
Seiten Taisen made a pitiful sight, the chains weighing him down so heavy as to almost be ridiculous. But one look at the creature's slitted, feral golden eyes convinced Sanzo that it was anything but unnecessary. The room was dark, cold, and there was challenge and murder in the creature's eyes . . . an insane lack of fear, despite his helpless position. He decided to waste no time.
Pressed to the other side of the door, Hakkai and
Gojyo listened as Sanzo began the spell. There was a low and threatening
sound that started as a growl, and increased in intensity with
Sanzo's chanting. The noise became almost deafening, and when
it was finally over, they heard a soft thud, and nothing more.
They wrenched the door open to find Sanzo sprawled facedown on
the floor, unconscious, and the feral golden eyes staring at him
from the dark. There was no hope of knowing what was going on
behind them.
It had been raining for several days straight, and
Sanzo had spent most of his time staring out the window, chain
smoking, only stirring occasionally to eat and demand more cigarettes.
He was healing, slowly but surely. Besides Hakkai's attempts to
check on him occasionally, his companions respected his wish to
be alone.
As things stood, their journey home had been indefinitely suspended.
It had seemed, when they begun their foreordained mission, that
their journey to the West would last until the end of their days.
Not to mention that there was no guarantee that any of them would
survive. At the beginning, none of them even ventured a thought
about what would happen when it was over. And when it was, they
had remained for a time, almost unwilling to accept their success.
They finally came to the conclusion that staying wasn't really
an option.
Of course, they never thought of their return journey as a journey
to the East, or even home; only as a sort of anticlimactic
journey back. And unconsciously, they had let their guard
down. Now that the minus wave had been reversed, the youkai they
encountered had seemed confused, guilty, or perfectly normal;
they hadn't expected many to remain murderous. And that had been
their mistake. Quite unexpectedly, they had found themselves surrounded
by a group of youkai who were less than friendly; on the contrary,
they seemed quite intent on killing them all.
It was an understatement that Sanzo-ikkou had been unprepared.
//Sanzo//
It was that annoying voice . . . again. By the Three Aspects,
did it ever stop? It called to him day and night, bearing
with it an intense longing and an insatiable hunger that tugged
at him . . . annoyingly. He hadn't a choice but to follow it.
Find that voice, somehow . . . do whatever he had to do to silence
it.
//Sanzo//
Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe the voice wasn't really there;
perhaps it was an illusion, born of his grief. Maybe . . .
//I'm so hungry//
He recalled a conversation once, and He had spoken of a call;
one a solitary Koryuu hadn't even been aware of making . . . had
he been this annoying? He kind of doubted it. But he remembered
making a promise, that if he ever heard that call . . .
//Sanzo//
He woke with a start in the dark inn, with the rain outside. He
processed, with a strange sinking feeling, that the call in the
dream was a distant memory, and nothing more.
He reached up, and realized that his face was wet.
"This is your responsibility. Do you understand?
Do you even care?"
Sanzo pointedly ignored the Goddess of Mercy.
"Tell me, what are you going to do?"
"What am I going to do? Absolutely nothing."
A delicate eyebrow raised. "Oh?"
"For one, you're making the mistake of thinking I care.
As far as I'm concerned, the stupid little brat can pout as long
as he wants."
Konzeon Bosatsu eyed the priest, trying to discern if he really
meant his cutting remarks; trying to gauge whether or not she
should be angry. She decided to be angry regardless.
"I don't think you quite understand, Genjo Sanzo.
This is not just pouting.' This . . . is Goku's version
of suicide."
It looked for a second as if Sanzo would continue to argue, but
he didn't respond.
"He's not aware of what's happening. Perhaps somewhere, deep
inside, he hoped that someone would be forced to kill him in this
state. But it all boils down to that Goku lost his grip on his
own consciousness. The Goku as you knew him . . . he's gone."
Silence reigned until Sanzo's lighter flared to life as he lit
another cigarette.
"I don't believe you."
Sanzo shut the door quietly and firmly behind him
and ventured a few steps into the dark room, noting with some
discomfort that calculating golden eyes were watching his every
move.
He watched right back for a moment, before lighting a cigarette,
never taking his eyes off the creature opposite him.
"I suppose you know by now that I'm not here to hurt you."
He felt stupid, talking to a youkai that had never really exhibited
the intelligence to indicate that he could speak, much less understand
anything said to him. He shuddered under the intense gaze. Seiten
Taisen burned too brightly. That was what bothered Sanzo. One
could not spend too long in his presence. He burned like a wildfire;
hot, quick, all-consuming. He existed only for that single purpose,
to burn; to destroy.
"I may restrain you, yes, but . . . I'm not likely to hurt
you. Unless you decide to keep pissing me off."
Seiten Taisen just continued to stare, tensed like an animal ready
to pounce.
Sanzo let out a frustrated "che" and took another drag
off his cigarette. He almost dropped it when he heard the creature
speak.
"You even shine in the dark." Seiten Taisen's voice
sounded as if it hadn't been used in a century . . . or perhaps
longer. It was deep, and so gravelly as to almost be unintelligible.
"Interesting."
Genjo Sanzo was officially freaked out. When he finally regained
his composure, anger was the predominant emotion. "Give Goku
back, you little shit." His hand strayed to his exorcism
gun.
"And what makes you think he's still here?" He sounded
as if he were enjoying himself immensely.
Sanzo drew his gun. The creature looked completely unconcerned.
"Perhaps you misunderstood me."
He aimed carefully, directly between his target's feral eyes,
shining with . . . was that excitement?
He couldn't count the number of times he'd pointed his gun at
Goku. It had never seemed worth it to shoot him - thus far.
"I said give him back."
He released the safety. He'd made it clear to Goku before . .
. and he wouldn't hesitate for a second. Seiten Taisen obviously
wasn't buying it, but he didn't know Genjo Sanzo. He would shoot
if he damn well felt like it.
"Now."
His finger tightened on the trigger.
You're a liar, Genjo Sanzo. A goddamn liar.
The gun shook in his clenched hands.
Gojyo and Hakkai startled awake as a shot rang out in the night.
Seiten Taisen laughed gleefully, an inhuman sound. The air was misplaced where the bullet had missed his head by a hair's breadth, and penetrated the wall behind him.
"Sanzo."
He started a little. It was Gojyo. He could sense Hakkai behind
him, but apparently the red-head had been elected to do the speaking
this time.
"We can't stay here . . . like this."
He knew that. Why did everyone have to remind him?
"Sooner or later he's going to escape . . . you know that
room won't hold him forever. And we can't stay here forever."
Forever . . .
Exasperation at the monk's silence clear in his voice, Gojyo tried
again. "Sanzo . . ."
"I know what you're proposing," the monk cut in. "I
just . . ."
There was a heavy silence.
"Want to make sure he's not coming back," Hakkai finished
quietly.
Sanzo didn't say anything for a very long time, and finally, he
stubbed out his cigarette and turned around. His voice was as
weary as his eyes. "It seems I no longer have a choice."
Kanzeon Bosatsu agreed to render Seiten Taisen into
a state of unconsciousness until they returned to the mountain.
For some reason, Sanzo insisted carrying the creature there himself.
Even more so than the journey to the West, it seemed that this
was the end of a journey, and just as he had led Goku from his
prison, he was leading him back to it. He'd had doubts at first
whether the life he was giving Goku was really all that different
from that prison he had taken him from. He wasn't like his master;
he wasn't exactly a kind person. But despite appearances, Son
Goku had never really believed that his savior meant anything
by his subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle, abuse. After all,
the little displays of protection, of anger when Goku was criticized
or threatened, far outweighed any half-hearted attempt Sanzo made
at pushing him away. Because Goku never doubted Sanzo. Because
Goku, simple-minded monkey though he was, could see right through
him. A few whacks with the fan was worth it for the opportunity
to bask in the sunlight.
Genjo Sanzo felt this was the ultimate betrayal.
He spent a lot of time trying to convince himself that he didn't
care, but it had quickly proved to be a futile effort. It was
then that he decided that noone needed to really know that he
cared that much for Goku . . . it boiled down to the fact that
he would rather die than live without him.
There was, however, a great difference between what he would rather
do, and what he had to do.
"Hakkai," he asked, when they stood at the base of the
mountain, "do you think I'm a weak person?"
Hakkai smiled gently. "I wouldn't say you're weak . . . no.
The wounds you've suffered . . ."
"I don't know if I can survive it again," Sanzo interrupted.
"Losing another person."
Hakkai looked away. "All we can do is live."
"And what if it's all we can do to live?"
"Then we keep on living."
They were silent for a while, and Sanzo lit a fresh cigarette.
"I want to do this alone."
That smile was unwaverable. "I understand."
It took several days to reach his destination, and it didn't help
that he was carrying the dead weight of a youkai every step of
the way.
He watched the sun set from the top of the mountain, and left
the next morning, after the Goddess of Mercy had returned Seiten
Taisen to his eternal prison, determined never to look back. He
was halfway down the mountain when he heard it, strangely soft
at first, and then so loud and despairing he wouldn't have been
surprised if the very mountain shook with the force of it.
God, he was irritating.
"Well," Gojyo commented, "apparently Goku figured out that Sanzo wasn't as dead as he thought he was."
"Goku."
Warm breath grazed his ear, smelling faintly of cigarettes.
"Mmnm." He realized belatedly that it was he who had
made that little noise. Blinking, he forced his eyes open a little,
and found himself dangerously close to a pair of large-pupiled,
violet eyes.
"Sanzo," he murmured, disoriented. He blinked again.
"Where are we?"
Sanzo leaned away a little, inspiring a strange little stab of
disappointment in Goku. "An inn outside of Kourin. We've
been here for a couple of days. I was waiting for you to wake
up again."
"Why?"
Sanzo shrugged. "I got tired of carrying you."
Goku considered this for a moment. "Ne, Sanzo," he said,
watching the blonde man light another cigarette.
"Hm?"
"I'm hungry."
Where he had expected a whack on the head, or at the most a noncommital
grunt, he was shocked when Sanzo just looked at him, appearing
only slightly annoyed. "Figures," he said gruffly.
"Ne, Sanzo?" he ventured again.
"Hm?"
"Where are we going?"
He was aware again of just how close he was to the violet of Sanzo's
eyes, and had nearly forgotten about the question when he was
presented with a softly spoken answer.
"Home."
* * *
