The Accumulated Darkness

AN: To me, there just seems to be something incredibly sad and beautiful about the characters of Saiyuki. I hope I have expressed that well in this fic.


Goku doesn't really know much about Sanzo.

He knows some things. He knows that Sanzo had a Master, a man that he loved like a father or a mother. He knows that the Master is gone now, in such a horrible way that it still makes Sanzo sad. That when it rains, the sadness almost engulfs the entire body of the man until all that's left are two dull eyes that remind him of that cave. It makes him shiver, he's never seen an eclipse before but he imagines that it'd be a lot like Sanzo's eyes, bright and glowing and then suddenly dark and dangerous. It was something to be watched from a distance with a sense of caution, to avert your eyes from.

He asked Gojyo once about what he thought Sanzo was like as a kid. About whether he liked to go to bed early, whether he walked for the exercise or for the pleasure, if he ever had a midnight snack because he just felt like eating. The man had only stared at him for a moment before replying with a curt, "You really think he'd talk to me about that kind of stuff? That's Hakkai's territory. Besides, I'm sure he was a fucking brat, why else would he be such a jerk."

It probably wasn't the brightest idea to talk to Gojyo but… in his defence, Gojyo had been next to him when he was thinking.

The next day, he had asked Hakkai. He never liked asking Hakkai things that were too important. He imagined the brain of the man to be like a bookshelf, storing away any little piece of information for later use. The last thing he wanted was for him to tell Sanzo about his questions, probably out of some odd sense of protectiveness and curiosity.

He noticed that after he asked his question, that Hakkai's eyes were instantly alert, the cogs in his head moving quickly, "Well, I'm not quite sure, Goku. He was probably just like any other child."

"If he was like any other child, then why is he so… different now?"

"Sanzo didn't have the most peaceful life. After… I don't think he has anyone around to care for him since his Master."

"But he cared for me really well," He knew that what he just said didn't make a lot of sense. Somehow, it just seemed important.

Hakkai's poster smile melted into something a little softer, rounder, "I think he's just as caring as anyone else, he just doesn't like to show."

He didn't know why, but that annoyed him, "…but he's better then everyone else."

Maybe people had to avert their eyes from Sanzo. Maybe he's just so brilliant and glowing that they can't look at him directly. It would make sense since he did tend to do stupid things like looking directly at the sun.

"He's only human, Goku."

He knew that he was only human. And yet, that wasn't as satisfying as it should be.

Because late at night, when he was alone and staring at the ceiling and trying to remember just what light felt like he would remember Sanzo. Except, it wasn't him, he was brighter, warmer and there were always flowers around him and paper. Lots of paper. But his eyes were like Sanzo's, one moment sharp and knowing and the next, a deep gulf, a deep pit in the ocean that never ends because before you reach the bottom, the pressure is to intense, to overwhelming.

But he smelled like Sanzo and he shone like him. He's never met anyone that shone like Sanzo did so it had to be the same person. There was only ever one sun in the universe; he's never seen two rise in the morning. But then, maybe one was the moon, still glowing and lonely but later and lesser then the first.

It wasn't long before Sanzo was looking at him strangely, something questioning in his eyes that wasn't there before. It didn't take a genius to work out that Hakkai had told him about his question.

When they all sit around at breakfast and he's trying to think of what he should insult Gojyo with next, the monk sometimes lays down the paper to stare at him. His mouth would be open, ready to speak but those eyes would still be dark and unforgiving.

He wished that he had to nerve to just ask him so that he would know about the only person he's ever truly… he can't even contain what he feels for Sanzo in one word because it isn't that simple. Sanzo is his mother, his father, his brother and his best friend. He's that bad tempered dog he should have had that doesn't stop barking but he's also that cat that just knows, even though you're sure he can't understand what you're saying. He's as necessary as food or water but as useless as a flower, which is somehow just as fundamental to his existence.

Truly, he feels like the earth to the sun. One always revolving around the other, kept in place by some invisible force that protects him from the burning and intensity.

It's not often that they are alone, away from those two presences that annoy him but also complete him. It's so rare that he doesn't like to sit and cherish the moment; he tries to act like its everyday, so mundane and usual that he isn't going to just sit and watch the silence that hangs like a thread over the other man. He'll chatter something about the food or draw on the back of a book or on the hotel sheets. He'll breath in that strangely familiar sent of cigarette, flowers and paper that somehow smells like eternity and home.

But it isn't like usual because Sanzo still has that question in his body and his eyes still watch him like a cat. He tries not to act to shocked that the silence is broken, "why are you asking so many questions?"

He's only asked two but refrains from mentioning that, "because…. I …. Want to?"

Considering how long he's thought over this conversation, his reply is more then a little pathetic and he tries to not replicate the eye roll that Sanzo treats him to, "if you can't explain your impulses, then don't act on them."

It sounds like something the monks at the monastery would tell him after he's fallen out of the highest tree for fun, "You'll just yell at me if I tell you."

The man narrows his eyes, "Just tell me the fucking reason."

He can see that he's doing something to the man, that asking about his past has scared Sanzo because it's personal and intimate and something to talk about when there's blood and cigarette smoke and no-one's washed themselves for days.

"I want to know about you."

"Why?"

"Because… I don't know anything about you."

"You know enough."

He can't hide the sadness as he answers because they both know that isn't true. They both know that Sanzo knows everything about him, he knows about the strange scars and the nightmares and the fear of endless darkness and deep shadows, "No, I don't."

It's good to see Sanzo light a cigarette because it means that he's hit something, a nerve that the mans buried inside him for so long that talking about it makes his hand shake so hard that it's hard to light the crinkled end, "What is it that you wanted to know anyways?"

He looks at the ground, the eyes burn, "… just things…. Like what friends you had or what your favourite food was. Just things that aren't really important," he omits to mention that they really are important. Important enough that he's glad to see the discomfort from Sanzo when he'd willingly die just to know that he's slept a little sounder.

"I didn't have friends."

He tries to fight the sympathy that creeps into his eyes as the man continues, "I was an outcast and the only person that cared about my existence was my Master."

"Was he nice."

"He would have gotten along with you," Goku tries not to feel complimented.

"Do you remember your parents?"

"No and I don't want to."

It's sad for him to know that the two people that made Sanzo never got a chance to love him.

"Why?"

There's something incredibly sad and lonely about they way the man answers, "I'd just be more pissed off if I knew why they dumped me."

He wished that he could crawl next to him and hug him until all he could remember was the feeling of someone caring, "Were you happy?"

A long pause, "For a time… yes."

It's awful that he feels relief at that statement because he was so frightened that he's never been happy. That it's only anger and pride that has kept him going.

"Are you happy?"

The man doesn't answer.

He doesn't ask another question after that. He can almost feel the rope he tripped over, the barrier he ran up to and hammered on with his hand until someone became pissed off enough to shoo him away.

He doesn't sleep well that night. He's sharing a room with Gojyo so it was inevitable that he'd spend half the night wanting to punch in the man's nose so that no sound would escape from it. However, tonight, he knows that's not the reason why he's awake. Gojyo doesn't sleep well either, he wakes up a few times before rolling around and dropping off again. Sometimes he wonders if the man can feel his anxiety, he's sure that it's flying off him. Something in his heart is off; a warmth of a presence that was there that morning has disappeared. He's never understood what Sanzo meant when he told him to shut up the first time they met but he thinks that it's connected to the absence in his chest. It's not immediately apparent but the more he notices it, the larger the hole seems to get. He feels like someone is ignoring him and it hurts.

The next morning, Sanzo doesn't speak to him and he doesn't speak to Sanzo. The man doesn't look pissed off but he can tell by the circles under his eyes or the amount of cigarettes he smokes that he didn't sleep well. Gojyo and Hakkai seem to notice something's off and there are no insults that morning as they set off.

It's not until later, when the sun is dipping onto the horizon and moon is just becoming visible that Sanzo speaks. It's quiet and nearly lost in the roaring wind as they stand on the cliff watching something as simple and amazing as the sun setting.

"Yeah, I am."

When he looks over at the man, his eyes aren't as deep and there's no vast ocean to lose your-self in, they look as shallow and vulnerable as the shore.

A hint of a memory flares in his mind for a moment and it's almost like he can remember standing with Sanzo, Gojyo and Hakkai on a cliff somewhere, watching the sun set like it was the last one.


"One torch can dissipate the accumulated darkness of a thousand aeons."