Disclaimer: As much as I'd like to claim I owned Saiyuki, I'm afraid I can't.
"The past is the beginning of the beginning, and all that is and has been is but the twilight of the dawn."
- H. G. Wells
Twilight
Inhale, exhale, close your eyes.
"Breathe," the man said aloud, watching a thin wisp of smoke curl upwards before dissipating completely – evanescent, maybe never there.
1…2…3…Gone.
To be brought into the world only to flame and burn out instantaneously, was that existence? Crimson eyes followed an outstretched hand as it swept across his view, halting fixedly in front of an open window. Red, gold, and inklings of amethyst held to the earth by the emerald of outstretched tree limbs amalgamated themselves into a specimen that had yet to attain night's grace, but well-past evening's brazen intensity. His hand formed the shape of a gun.
But you never cared, did you?
Sha Gojyo drew one eye shut, one half of the world fading to black – still there just ignored. "Nope," he said, firing his imaginary gun, "never will." He smiled wryly, allowing the eye to open once again. "But thanks for offering." He brought the cigarette up to his face for another long drag.
Personal demons embodied themselves differently for each individual, their remedies various and distinct as the being which they belonged. Gojyo preferred to talk things out – ten times shorter and half the trouble of awkward pauses and staring off into the distance in the middle of conversations.
Words don't really make things disappear. They just hide them.
"Hey, I finished with you already, remember?" He sighed loudly, rubbing one finger up and down the expanse of one of the scars beneath his eyes. It hadn't healed well. Then again, who'd expect it to? What was it that Hakkai had said? Something about nails holding an insignificant amount of poison – not even worth accounting for really, but quite problematic with girls who couldn't stand to have jagged streaks and lines marring the surface of what would otherwise be perfection in the flesh.
"Literally," Hakkai had concluded with a laugh.
That about explained away a number of them – scars, that is.
What about the rest of it?
"Common sense, bastard. And didn't I tell you to shut up?"
Sometimes, he wondered if he was losing. The questions continued to grow faster, more prepared, more intelligent while the replies seemed increasingly evasive, vague, and indirect.
Maybe. Damn. That'd suck. Could you really lose to yourself?
Wouldn't hurt.
"Nah. Not a bit."
He lapsed into a comfortable silence, still staring out into the twilight, head resting lazily against his palm. It happened smoothly, unnoticeably. The air grew heavier and the tranquil breeze filtered through, stumbling in like a lost woman who knew exactly where to go. "Can I help you miss," is what he would have said – lulled into an absent-minded reverie – but as he opened his mouth to speak…
Sound left his grasp.
It became an entity unto itself, dancing ostentatiously in front of him – swaying grass, belated moan of the wooden pane enshrining the window – as something to which he could no longer contribute, only be subject to. And in all honesty, he really didn't care. He sat in the serenity that could not belong to him amicably, blurring the world to ebony as his eyelids met one another, leaning back against his chair and humming a tune he didn't know like an old man.
Youth is wasted on the young.
Perhaps he would've shot back with a line or better still proffered an apathetic shrug of acceptance, but he never got the chance.
Click!
The door opened, in walked Genjyo Sanzo.
An unceremonious Slam!
And he sat down at the nearby table.
Gojyo winced visibly, cringing at the monk's thoughtless entrance, but otherwise not acknowledgeable of the other's presence. The monk proceeded to extricate the morning paper from the mess littering the top of the table. Gojyo glanced back over his shoulder at the new development, irritated eyes narrowing in anticipation.
He wouldn't.
Sanzo opened the paper and begin to read. Something resembling the crunch of a foot stomping on leaves registered in Gojyo's mind. Silence? What silence?
Inhale, exhale, close your eyes. Breathe. 1…2…3…
"Gone," the redhead annunciated in a voice that was barely above a whisper. Sanzo paused to look at him inquiringly. Gojyo turned to face him, glad his words - well, word – had the desired the effect. "Where've Hakkai and the monkey gone to?"
"Out."
"Thanks. Now I know exactly where they are."
The monk turned a page, to Gojyo's enhanced annoyance. "Where else could they be?"
Gojyo considered the size of Goku's stomach momentarily. "Good point," he replied, running a hand through his hair. A thought came to mind. He decided to chase it. "Question, Sanzo-sama," he taunted, drawing back at the cold glare the monk flung in his direction. He continued, his voice gaining a somewhat forced maturity, "How the hell do those two get along so well?"
"Don't know, don't care," came the terse response.
Take a corrupt monk…
So that's how it went. The infamous friend-of-a-friend, one with whom the bond he shared was tenuous at best and at worst…
Nonexistent.
Gojyo flinched at the wordless response. He thought he'd snapped out of that. Apparently not. He stood up, placed the cigarette to his lips, and breathed deeply.
Click! Pause. Slam!
In strode Hakkai and Goku. Actually, in Goku's case, maybe bounded was the better word.
"Ah, I'm glad to see the room is intact," Hakkai greeted cheerily.
"Guess what? Guess what? Today we went to the store to get some supplies for the trip and Hakkai let me…" Gojyo let his voice fade into a hyperactive drone and leaned against the window railing.
"Oy! Gojyo! Are you listening to me?" Goku asked.
"No. What'd you think?" he retorted, instinctively almost. He shook his head ruefully. Had it really been that long?
"Now, now you two," Hakkai interjected, attempting to placate the situation, waving a hand slightly as if to chase away the ordeal. Gojyo smiled faintly. Wave away Hakkai.
Add in a healer teetering on sanity and an innocent murderer…
Gojyo glanced over his shoulder viewing the sky one again, hues running into one another slightly but nevertheless distinct, brushing against one another in an eccentric coexistence.
Then a child trying to grow up before his time, and you get…
"Twilight," Gojyo answered inaudibly.
The most beautiful part of the day.
Someone had told him that once. But then again, he didn't care. Never would. "Damn straight," he added setting his attention towards the spectacle in front of him. Obviously the monkey had found now to be the appropriate time to express his hunger within what Hakkai declared to be five minutes of the last meal. Currently, the teen clutched his hands to his head where Gojyo guessed he had witnessed an unwanted encounter with a certain monk's fan.
"Sounds like home."
Author's Note: Ah, my first venture into the Saiyuki universe, well, in the writing aspect to say the least. Comments and critique would be greatly appreciated. Hopefully all the characters remained, for lack of a better word, in character. This would probably be a non-yaoi/no pairings fic or whatever you want to call it, just some hopefully tolerable introspection into Sha Gojyo's mind.
Till next we meet,
Timetill.