Gonou did not sit at the front of the class, nor did he sit at the back. The dark haired young man sat on the far left of the classroom with the wall on one side and empty desks on the other three. The Art of War lay open before him rather than the textbooks on the other occupied desks.

"Gonou…Cho Gonou.." the teacher called. Slowly he looked up. He was not often called on in classes, unless the teacher was having trouble prodding answers out of the other students. The boy frowned at the disturbance.

"Gonou, I called for everyone to break into groups. You may join Aya, Lee, and Mao." The three students mentioned paled visibly. This teacher was brand new to the orphanage. She had yet to learn the way things worked with him.

"I would like to respectfully decline group participation." He answered quietly and returned to his book. The other students exhaled in relief.

The young nun walked over to his desk and closed his book. Gonou's head snapped up and there was collective gasp from the class. The teacher smiled and did her best not to feel intimidated by the scowl trained on her. "I'm afraid declining is not an option in this class."

For just a moment anger and contempt flashed across the young face before he regained control of his expression. Still the green eyes burned into her. She was shocked for a moment at the intense emotions. The other teacher's had tried to warn her it was best just to leave Cho Gonou to his own devices but she was determined to be the one to lead the intelligent young man out of his self induced solitude. She picked up the book making it clear she was not backing down.

Making a mental note to properly educate his instructor later, Gonou suddenly stood. The young teacher took an involuntary step back. The emerald-eyed boy joined the trio of selected students. Just for today he would play along. He looked around at the group he had joined. They were supposed to be discussing a selected poem. They were to decipher it stanza-by-stanza then share their findings with the rest of the class during an open discussion.

Within five minutes, Gonou's anger toward the new teacher had increased. He had building headache and wished for nothing more than an ice pick to plunge into his own skull and end his torment. His fellow students stumbled around drawing uncertain and incorrect conclusions. Pronunciations of some words were way off and they were missing obvious illusions to well know Greek works.

Finally he couldn't handle any more. Taking out a sheet of paper he quickly filled the page then handed it to the girl who had been dubbed scribe for the group. The girl looked at the paper then at Gonou. Wide eyed she nibbled her lip in uncertainty.

Gonou sighed, "Just repeat that in your own words." Soon the group was pouring over his explication. It wasn't long before their murmured questions began. "What does that word mean?" "Who?" "I don't get it. I thought that part meant the writer was cold. Where did the bit about death come in? See, right here it says wrapped in sheets…"

Gonou sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose above his glasses. He was going have to take steps to ensure that the new teacher unequivocally understood there would be no repeat of this. The boy smiled very slightly to himself and his disturbed classmates fidgeted in their seats. She seemed like she was a quick learner. The lesson shouldn't take long.

********

Gojyo sat in the field. He was humming a little rhyme Jein had taught him while he attempted to weave flowers into a circle. He had watched his brother do it many times, but for some reason whenever he tried the chain kept falling apart. Not this time though. The boy thought to himself. This time he was going to make one even better than Jein's. In fact he would give it to him when his brother came to get him and Jein would say it was the best flower circle he had ever seen.

This time I'm gonna get it right. Then maybe…maybe after I make Jein's, I'll make one for mom too. Gojyo's small hands paused and two flowers slipped off his chain. He sniffed but he didn't cry. His stomach growled.

It had been a long time since breakfast and he hadn't even got to finish it. They had gotten up before mom and Jein had made him scrambled eggs and toast. Usually breakfast was cereal or leftovers, but this morning Jein had cooked just for him.

Mom had gotten up while they were still sitting at the table. He was happily scooping up his eggs with his toast, enjoying the warmth as it filled his stomach. He had been so happy he had forgotten for a moment, and when mom walked in he had smiled and said good morning.

Mom had gotten mad. He wasn't supposed to sit at the table. She shoved his plate on the floor and drug him out of the chair by his hair. Jein stepped in before the second blow actually landed. Catching Gojyo's eye he nodded toward the door as walked backwards with his arms around mom. Understanding the unspoken message Gojyo had left the house as soon as the bedroom door closed.

His stomach growled again as he picked up the fallen flowers and returned them to his chain. It was long past lunchtime by now. It's okay though. Jein will probably bring something to eat with him when he comes. They could have sort of a picnic after he gave his brother his surprise. The chain was almost long enough now. He just needed one more flower to connect it all together. He picked a red one and tried to weave it in to complete the circle. It didn't work. The whole chain fell apart. Gojyo sniffed and sat still for a moment, but he didn't cry. Slowly he began picking more flowers. Jein will come soon.

*****

He woke up in the cave. He didn't know how long he had been there. He couldn't remember a time when he wasn't in the cave. Nothing changed there. He never grew hungry and he didn't feel thirst. Outside the bars things changed. Rain fell and the sun dried it up. Snow fell and the sun melted it. Night fell and things grew dark but the sun always came to chase away the shadows with its light.

To the boy shackled in the mountain cave, the sun was greater than anything. Clouds could hide it but it always returned. It comforted him with its light and its warmth. He wished he could leave the cave. He wished he could be closer to the sun, to be able to bask directly in its light.

Once again bits of cold white drifted down stealing warmth and muffling the world. Even the chinking sounds from his chains were muted. The small heretic wrapped his arms around his knees and shivered. Watching the world change outside his prison, Goku waited for the sun.

*********

The priest took a step forward. There was a tug on his white robe as it was pulled taunt by the movement. He waited, glancing over his shoulder. A small blonde head was bent in concentration as it contemplated its own feet. Finally with a frown the toddler unsteadily stepped forward as well. His tiny hands were fisted tightly in the hem of his master's robes. Two more wobbly steps bought him even to the man.

He looked up and blinked large violet eyes then tugged on the robe. His master hid a smile behind his hand and repeated the process of stepping forward then waiting. They would eventually make it to their destination. And with his determined spirit the young blonde would make it there on his own two feet, even if he did need just a little help to keep him steady.