I hope this chapter redeems Hakkai for you guys a bit!
What if I walked without you?
What if I ran without you?
What if I stand
Without you I could not
Go on.
Sanzo
I tap my pen, over and over against the desk, scowling across the room at the door, impatiently, and under that shallow level of impatience is deep annoyance. It's been about a week since Goku ran out of the temple with barely a word to me, and he still hasn't come back, but I keep expecting him to. It's idiotic, but I expect him in the morning, at breakfast, and I expect to see him on the grounds, with his students, or to see him at lunch. I expect him to join me in the garden for our usual, evening stroll, or at dinner, or for him to show up in my room and sit with me for an hour or two before I turn in for the night. I expect to hear his voice outside my door, any second now, and I'm annoyed because I know I won't.
But even more so, I'm annoyed because I let him become an essential part of my life, and the temple feels empty without him, and because I let him run out of here and didn't try to stop him.
How could I anyway? He'd been determined to go, hell bent on getting Hakkai and Gojyo back together, and there was no way I could have even begun to talk him out of it.
The entire situation's annoying, from beginning to end, but there's nothing I can do about it. Our lives overlap. Not just Goku's and mine, but all four of us; we'd gotten so close, we'd become so involved in each other's lives, we'd started to rely on each other, so of course, the second something went awry in Gojyo's life, it spilled over into Goku's life, and therefore into mine.
Really, it's all that idiot Hakkai's fault. He was the one who upset the apple cart, just driving away one day.
I should have known it would come around and bite me in the ass.
Idiots. I knew nothing good would come of letting those three idiots into my life.
There's no taking it back now. The only thing I can do is try to keep focusing on my life and my work, distance myself from their problems, and not get bent out of shape over whatever went on with them.
So even though Goku asked me to go and talk to Gojyo, I've been purposely refusing to. Even though I know it might actually do some good, and I have some choice words to say to the kappa, and it might even help the pissant, I will not. I absolutely will do everything in my power to keep out of this as much as I can. My relics are gone, and I can't get them back now, and that's a high enough price to me for dealing with this bullshit.
You morons are on your own.
I glance over at the clock and realize, with an agitated grunt, that I've been staring at the door for more than twenty minutes now, not getting any work done.
More annoyed than ever, I put my pen to the paper and keep writing, doing everything I can to put Goku, and the others, out of my head.
After all, it's not my fault this is happening. It's not my fault Gojyo fucked up and Hakkai couldn't fix it. It's not my fault Goku felt the need to help. There's nothing I can do. Hell, even if I did go down to Gojyo's house, he might not be there at all. He hadn't been for days, as far as I knew, so why would I expect to find him there today?
And even if he was at home, what were the chances that he'd listen to me, or that whatever I said would make any kind of impact? Slim to none, in my opinion. A complete waste of my valuable time.
Just when I'm back to writing, there's a firm knock on the door, and I hear Kumo call my name. He's been pretty cautious the last few times I've seen him, because he can sense that I'm annoyed with his so-called 'advice', which is really just him trying to manipulate me into acting the way he wants me to.
"Enter." I say, but I keep writing and don't even look up at him as he comes in, and then he stands in front of me, awkwardly.
"Well? What do you want?"
Kumo clears his throat, "Master Sanzo, I'm afraid I have some bad news."
I glance at him. Too much has been going wrong these last few weeks, and hearing that more bad news is on the way makes my irritation worse. "Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of something important."
He snorts, "It could wait. But…your opinion and my opinion on this…highly sensitive matter, will likely differ."
That settles that. Anything Kumo thinks isn't very important, anything he thinks can wait, is probably something that needs my immediate attention. I set my pen down and sit up to focus on him.
He acts a little uncomfortable under my gaze, doesn't say anything, but shifts his shoulders slightly.
"What is it?"
"As you know, Master, I have a personal friend who works as a servant in the house of Merchant Rashii."
"I didn't know you had any friends, Kumo."
He shrugs, "He's a boyhood friend I've known since before I came to this temple."
As if I care.
"What does it have to do with me?" Merchant Rashii is a powerful man, and he and his family have been contributing to this temple for generations. It could have a lot to do with me.
"My friend overheard something he found interesting. I think it's hardly important, given the circumstances, but it may disturb you."
"Just spit it out, Kumo."
"Apparently, Rashii has seen fit to capture and detain that…your…associate, Sha Gojyo, until… Well, indefinitely, as best I can tell."
I study him. "What?"
"It's true, I'm afraid. I've made some inquiries, and the man does appear to have gone missing. My friend who works in Rashii's house overheard Rashii give the order, and, as you well know, Rashii always gets his man. I believe it's safe to say by this time, that Sha Gojyo is likely in Rashii's custody, and unlikely to be released any time soon. If at all."
"The hell does Gojyo have to do with Rashii?"
"My friend couldn't say, and neither can I. I can only assume that this is a direct result of his recent, persistent, criminal behavior."
I stand up "How sure are you of this, Kumo?"
"Completely sure, my Lord."
"Completely? Really?"
"Well…I suppose I don't have any hard evidence to support the theory, but I trust my friend—as I said, I've known him for years—and if he tells me Rashii has had Sha Gojyo arrested, I believe him."
I look hard at him, "Why were the two of you even discussing Gojyo in the first place?"
"We weren't, necessarily. The man in Rashii's house knows of your ties to Sha Gojyo, as well as the other two, and when I saw him, he wanted to know if you'd heard. Apparently it was a very discreet arrest. They went to his house when he wasn't expecting it, and there were no witnesses. I highly doubt anyone who doesn't work or live in Rashii's house is aware of the fact that he's been taken into custody at all. Which means, of course, it's not a standard imprisonment—no trial, no justice, no reason, you could say—he'll rot in jail without anyone ever learning where he is or why he's there."
I can't help snarling at him, "Tell me right now you didn't have a hand in that. If you took matters into your own hands and somehow convinced Rashii to arrest Gojyo-"
Kumo lifts his nose in the air, indignantly, "Master Sanzo, I protest to such unfounded accusations. First of all, my interest in Sha Gojyo is not that great. Secondly, a man like me—a humble servant of Buddha with very little means—does not go and convince Rashii to do anything. Merchant Rashii responds only to affluence, as you should well know, I'm sure. And furthermore, you may be a bit frustrated with my counsel lately, but I do not take matters such as these into my own hands. No, no, I'm afraid that if he's been arrested by Rashii, he must have wronged the merchant in some manner."
Dubiously, I continue to glare at him.
"Master Sanzo." He insists at length, "Would I come and tell you this unfortunate news if it were my doing?"
"It might not matter that you did. Based on everything you just said, I can't get him out any better than you could get him in."
Kumo sighs, "My Lord, I know that you and I have been at odds on this matter, however, I assure you, I am a servant of Buddha. I don't wish harm on anyone. I do not condone the wicked ways of man, and I do not condone killing. As much as he may disgust me, I would never harm the impudent fool, and I would never take action to see it done. Also, I know that, in spite of everything that's happened, you regard him as a personal friend, and out of my love and respect for you, I wouldn't wish anything cruel to befall him. That's the only answer I can give in the face of your judgment."
I have no choice but to believe him.
He utters, more quietly, "I feel that…as punishment for his crimes, he does deserve some sort of discipline. However, if he remains a prisoner in Rashii's detainment, he will die, if not because they execute him outright, then because Rashii has no obligation to tend to the physical needs of his captives."
I stare out the window, toward the town. Dammit. What the hell should I do now?
"You must think I can get him out, or you wouldn't have told me."
"No." He shakes his head, "I highly doubt that even you, with all your charisma, will be enough to free him. Though…Son Goku and Cho Hakkai likely can."
He's right in that. I mean, obviously I could take my gun down there and shoot everyone and break the Kappa out myself, but I have a high standing in that town. I'm known to be a powerful priest. It's not like on the road to India, when keeping my team together and making it to Houtou Castle was the only thing that was important. I have to consider what doing something like that would mean for me.
Dammit. Goku's not even around. He's off trying to reason with Hakkai. What was that idiot Monkey thinking? If he was as concerned about Gojyo as he acted, why didn't he stay here and keep an eye on his ass?
Right now…painful as it is for me, I'm the only one who can do anything.
Already, I'm moving toward the door, "Where is he, Kumo?"
"In the town prison, I believe. What are you going to do, Priest Sanzo?"
I don't know exactly, so I don't answer, just start walking down into town, and I feel a little like an idiot, because I just finished promising myself that I was going to stay out of this.
By the time I get to the town prison, my robes are dusty and I'm in no mood for nonsense, so I go straight inside. The guards are lounging around in the front room, and they look like a pretty stupid bunch. Brutish and violent, but stupid none-the-less, so when I demand to see Sha Gojyo, they don't seem to know who I'm referring to, and I have the bother of describing the idiot to them. After that, there's some mumbo jumbo about how no one's allowed to see 'the prisoner', but I give them some crap about how I'm a priest, and how I'm there to save his immortal soul, and I assume they respect Buddhism on some level or other, because they let me in without anymore complaints. One even escorts me in and lights a candle for me, which is good, because the room is pitch black and ice cold.
On top of that, it's filthy, and it reeks. I see rats scuttling across the floor and the air is damp.
For a fleeting moment, I hope there's been some mistake, that maybe someone else was arrested and Kumo heard wrong, and then I can just go home.
I get one glimpse of long, red hair, and I know it's Gojyo.
He's just lying in the cell, on the ground, curled there loosely, not even holding himself tightly against the cold, without even a sweatshirt, and he looks totally expired. I'd think he's dead if he weren't breathing so heavily and with such pain.
I stand at the bars, hands wrapped around them and stare at him a while. I can't tell if he's awake or not, but he doesn't look back at me either way.
What the hell am I doing here anyway?
"Gojyo." I say at last.
Damn kappa doesn't so much as twitch.
"Gojyo, wake up."
"What do you want?" he asks dully.
I don't know what I want.
"You told me to get the fuck away from you and never come back." He goes on.
"What I actually said was 'get the fuck out of my sight, you good-for-nothing."
"Same diff."
"Why are you in here?"
"Because it's such a nice spot. Duh."
He sounds so incredibly tired, he almost doesn't sound like himself at all.
"What did you do?"
For a while, he's quiet, and then his voice is dark and fierce, but he speaks slowly, "I didn't do…anything."
I snort, "I doubt that. They wouldn't just lock you up for nothing."
"What the hell do you want anyway?"
I don't know what to say. I came here without thinking about it but I guess I came to make sure he's not dead yet.
"Did you just come to watch me die? Come to gloat about it? Oh yeah, Gojyo got what he deserved." He laughs, bitterly.
"Don't play martyr to me, Gojyo. Not after everything you've done lately."
He sits up suddenly, and his voice has a hard edge, "Yeah, yeah, I know. I ruined everything, all right? You had me fucking arrested—isn't that good enough for you?"
"I didn't do this to you." I answer calmly. "I didn't tell anyone about what you did."
He scoffs, like he doesn't buy that, and then grumbles, "Yeah, sure. Why not?"
"Because what you did is between you and me."
"And Buddha, right?" Another bitter laugh.
"I highly doubt Buddha gives a shit what you do, Gojyo." Of course, if I'd known they were going to stick him in here and treat him like an animal, I would have just locked him up at the temple when he was there the other day. It's not like I can get him out of here. "In any case, you did this to yourself. Maybe if you'd try to act like an adult this wouldn't be happening to you."
Gojyo leans against the wall, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his head against them. "Whatever. I don't wanna' hear that from you. You got your life all worked out for you already."
"Life isn't supposed to be easy."
"I never said it was."
"So don't blame me for the consequences of your own stupid actions. You're here because you deserve to be here, it's as simple as that, and maybe if you hadn't gone out of your way to rip off my temple, I'd feel a little better about commiserating with you."
He stands up, quickly, punches the wall, "Dammit! I didn't do this to you on purpose, okay? I didn't betray you because I woke up one day and told myself I wanted to! It was an accident—I had no idea that asshole was going to force me to help him raid your place—I wouldn't have done it if I knew! He put a gun to my head and said he'd blow my face off if I didn't help, along with anybody else who tried to get in his way! Sneaking him in there and helping him get out without anyone noticing was the only thing I could do to make sure he didn't kill a ton of your acolytes!"
"So you're a hero." I sniff.
"No! I'm a loser, and an asshole and a dick: I heard you the first fucking two thousand times! But I didn't wanna' die, Sanzo! Now I'm going to anyway, right? So just go ahead!" he spreads his arms out, no doubt making himself an easier target. "You think you have the right, don't you? So just do it! I'm right here, and nobody's gonna' notice I'm dead for days, and even if they do, they're not gonna' give a shit or wonder why, so who cares? Nobody's here to stop you! Just do it! See if I care! I want you to!"
He's acting completely hysterical, but I keep my voice steady as I stare back at him. "Do you think that's actually the answer to all this?"
"The answer?" He laughs again, more cynically than ever. "The answer! As if there's a—there is no answer! Everything is fucked, and it's gonna' stay that way! I can't fix it—and I'm the guy who fucked it all up—if I can't fix it, who can?"
What an idiot.
"I'm sorry, all right?" He grabs the bars suddenly. We stand face-to-face, and I get a clear view of his crazed, desperate expression, "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry I betrayed you! I didn't mean to…I didn't want to! I wish like everything I didn't! So just have some mercy for once in your asshole life and put me out of my misery and don't let me starve to death in here!"
"I already said I didn't do this to you, Gojyo. I didn't have you arrested—someone else did, and it had nothing to do with my temple or the shit you stole from me."
"Do it anyway!" He grabs my robe by the collar, "Everything's all over for me—everything's fucked beyond repair—so just shoot me in the head and get it over with!"
"I thought you said you don't want to die." I reply coldly.
"I didn't. I didn't want that sonnova bitch Loki to kill me, but it's different now: Hakkai's gone, we're not even friends anymore, Goku's pissed at me, you've always hated me, ever since day one! Hell, this is what you've always wanted, right? You always wanted to shoot me and dump me in a shallow grave, so now's your chance to do it!"
I pry him off and shove him back a little. "Killing you isn't worth my time, Kappa. That's not what I'm here for."
"Then what are you here for?" He drops to his knees, hanging off the bars, hair forming a curtain around his face. "Just go away and let me fucking die."
I don't answer.
"I'm so tired, man." He mutters after a while. "Everyone keeps telling me to grow up, but life's already been way too long…"
"Why are you being so goddamn pathetic?" I demand. "Just what is it that makes you think this is the end for you?"
"I'm never getting out of here… Even if I did, what's left out there for me? Am I supposed to just go home like none of this happened?"
"You could try to move the hell on, like a normal fucking person."
"As if I'm a normal person." He sniffs.
I sneer, "Oh, right, poor you. Poor, abused, neglected, pathetic hanyou."
He lifts his eyes to glare daggers at me. I think if he could get at me through the bars, he'd throttle me.
"Isn't that what you want to hear? You want to keep hiding behind that excuse your whole life? Be my guest. You'll never get your shit together with that attitude."
There. I said it. I probably should have said it months ago, and maybe this wouldn't be happening, but at least I got it out there at last.
"Get the fuck over it, how's that sound?"
The anger dies, slowly, from his eyes, and then he sighs, "Yeah, well that's easy for you to say. Don't you think I tried, Sanzo? I did try. And I found out once and for all that I'll never get my shit together—I'll never be like you or Hakkai—because I am just a stupid, useless-"
Furiously, I grab him by the front of the shirt and jerk him to his feet, practically spitting out of anger, "You're the only one who's putting yourself in that box!"
"I-"
I shake him, roughly, "I thought you knew that. You either listen to what other people say, or you define yourself. I thought you figured that out already."
"I thought I did too."
"Because you did. So cut the pathetic bullshit and pull yourself together; yes, you fucked up, but you'd have to be stupid to lie down and let it all fall apart like this, to let yourself fall apart like this, and to let go of the only thing that anyone has ever seen you genuinely give a shit about. Just how fucked up are you, Gojyo?"
"I dunno, man." He grasps my wrist, weakly. "Really, really fucked up, I guess."
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself already! I have a good mind to beat the shit out of you."
"What do you want me to do? I just told you I can't get out of here. They won't even tell me why I'm here in the first place. I thought it was your fault…but if it's not…"
I think a while, still gripping his shirt, and I get the impression he's going to collapse when I let go of him. I could tell him Rashii's the one who stuck him in here, but it looks like he's already on the brink of total despair, and knowing that someone as rich and powerful as Merchant Rashii is the one who had him arrested might just push him over the edge. For now, it seems best to say nothing.
"I doubt it." I sigh and let him go, shocked as hell to see him keep standing. "Hakkai will more than likely come back and break this place down to get you out."
"Right." He laughs again. "Why would he do that?"
"He's your best friend." I remind him, a little darkly.
Gojyo shakes his head, assuredly, "Not anymore."
"Even if your deranged, little kappa brain is right about that, it doesn't mean he'll let you die of starvation in a jail cell." I don't bother telling him I'll probably go home and send word to him myself. "Do you honestly believe he won't run back here and find some way to get you out? If he doesn't, Goku will."
Gojyo doesn't answer. I barely recognize him, he's so beaten down and delirious.
It's about to push me over the edge, that dumb look of hopelessness he's wearing, and I charge forward, heartlessly, "I have no idea why you suddenly think they don't give a shit about you—Hakkai told me the only reason he left was because you told him you didn't want him around."
He doesn't look up at me. He murmurs, "I shouldn'ta' done that."
"No." I pry him off me again, "You shouldn't have. But that doesn't mean he won't come back to save your ass, and as long as you're not a dick to him, you misfits can probably even fix whatever's gone wrong in your bizarre, little relationship, so quit talking about dying, because I'm the only one who gets to kill you, and you still haven't pissed me off enough to do it yet."
Finally, he looks up at me, wipes some blood off his nose. "Sanzo. Do you believe me?"
I sigh, impatiently, "Yes, Gojyo, I believe some asshole put a gun to your head and forced you to raid my temple. That doesn't make it okay, but I believe you."
He nods.
"I hope you realize that means I can never trust you again though."
"I know. I deserve that."
"Bet your worthless ass you do."
He doesn't answer to that, and then, while we're standing there in silence, he starts to cough, and I get a glimpse of red, as bright as his hair, just a splash of it, in the palm of his hand. Disgusted, I demand, "Is that blood?"
"What's it to you?" He asks, tiredly.
"Why the hell are you coughing up blood?"
He wipes that on his jeans and gives a ragged sigh, "Like you honestly give a shit."
I look back at him a moment, wondering what I should say. "You're right, it's not my business. But if you had even half a brain you'd quit smoking."
"Heh." He sinks to the floor again and lights a cigarette. "It doesn't matter now, Sanzo. It really doesn't."
That seems to be his last word on the matter, and I've said all I can say—I'm no good at the comforting shit—so I make up my mind to leave. There's nothing I can do for him.
But as I'm turning away to go, I do pause to tell him, "The Gojyo I know wouldn't lie down and die in a place like this. The Gojyo I met ten years ago would have fought the grim reaper himself, sickle versus sickle."
Gojyo laughs, and this time there's a ghost of his old cheer in it, "That's funny, Sanzo. You should be a poet."
"So laugh, you bastard. It's the truth."
He puffs carelessly on the cigarette, "Yeah, well that Gojyo's long gone."
Before I can stop myself, I say, "I hope for your sake that's not true."
He studies me, without a word, and I walk out.
The guards watch me curiously as I leave the prison, but they don't say anything to me.
My mind works furiously as I turn back toward the temple.
He's alive. Finding that out was my primary reason for coming here, but…from what I just saw, he's not doing well, and I don't know how long he'll last in that place. For one thing, he seems to be on the verge of an emotional breakdown. He's delirious. He's sick. He's coughing up blood. The cell is filthy and tiny and cold as hell, and if he stays there long, I know he'll die. Because what he said in there seems to be true: he's not the strong, insolent, devil-may-care, unbearable Gojyo who went to India with me. That Gojyo could have outlasted anything. That Gojyo could have taken the building apart and walked away whistling some obnoxious tune. I don't know where that Gojyo went, but he's certainly not the man I just talked to in the jail cell.
No. He's not well. Even if it's not my goal to get him out, and it's not my responsibility, and it's not my problem, I decide that I should try it anyway. I make a quick turn and head up toward Rashii's house.
I don't know if it's a good idea to get in the middle of this. Rashii's contributions to my temple are important, and I don't know if my knowing Gojyo will affect those donations. I don't know if my speaking for him will. I know that if I go and get into a confrontation with Rashii on Gojyo's behalf, the contributions will definitely be affected. They'll probably stop all together.
"What a pain in the ass." I grumble.
But what else can I do?
I'll never hear the end of it if Hakkai and Goku find out I let him die in some disgusting prison cell.
"That idiot is so much more trouble than he's worth."
It's a long, long walk up to the house of merchant Rashii, and with every step I take, the neighborhood turns just a little more luxurious. The houses grow and grow into mansion-size, with vast gardens that are beautiful, even in the fall, and the people I brush elbows with are wearing expensive, colorful clothing, laughing, like there's not a care in the world. I don't know exactly where Merchant Rashii's house is located, but I still know it when I see it, because it is the biggest, most expensive house in town, built in a western style, with lavender gables and hanging vines, stone paths, crystalline windows, and dozens upon dozens of servants.
It's even harder to gain access there than it was to get into the prison. When I knock on the door, I'm greeted by some snooty butler-type who has his nose in the air and barely looks at me before sniffing his disapproval. I tell him who I am, and he tells me that Rashii can't be bothered. I insist that it's very important, regarding our financial agreements, and then he lets me into the foyer, but he still has to go and personally check with the merchant to see if I'm telling the truth.
I wait, more impatient than ever, and, in addition, disgusted by everything I see around me. Mindless servants, airheaded aristocrats, crystal chandeliers, long, thick drapes made of red velvet, dark, chestnut wood floors, walls with gold trim, and millions of yen worth of decorative vases, furniture, lamps, and antiques, all make up the whimsical, unreal world of Merchant Rashii. It's like being in a palace.
The butler takes his time coming back to tell me that Rashii would be, as he put it in his dry, toneless voice, delighted to see me, and then he leads me up a long, spiral staircase, furnished with thick, plushy, red carpet, to a level of the house that puts all the other areas of the mansion to shame. I see original paintings that must have cost a fortune, suits of armor from different parts of the world, shined and gleaming, women wearing kimonos that would pay for a year's worth of food, chairs and tables that look imported from the west, and my bad mood deepens. At this point, I'm starting to imagine that it might be a little difficult to be polite to merchant Rashii. His kind tends to make me feel ill, because people like that are ludicrous and fake.
But it's too late to turn around and see myself to the door, and before I know it, I'm being let into a room that's guarded by two men in high, polished boots and black, immaculate suits. They nod to me, and I step in.
The room is bright, lit by the biggest chandelier I've ever seen, and it's large, spacious, with dozens of windows and fancy, thick, violet drapes. A long, red carpet runs through the center of the room, leading up to a tall, ornate chair with a winged back, where the merchant is sitting, and that's when I know that this idiot thinks he's some kind of king.
I remind myself to be careful as I approach the chair and the man seated there. I don't want to lose his contributions to my temple, if I can help it.
There's no way in hell I'm going to bow down though. I decide, stonily, as I come to a stop in front of him.
Rashii is a short but sophisticated man. He's dressed in fine clothes, with expensive robes and colorful cloth and shiny, decorative shoes. His slick, pepper-gray hair is cut in an expensive style, and he's holding a glass of wine. He's a perfect picture of greed, lust, opulence and decadence. He's the kind of man who makes contributions to Buddhist temples purely for appearance sake.
"Priest Sanzo." He greets me with a wave of one of his slim, ringed hands. "I'm so honored that you've come to call! Please, sit down and have a glass of wine with me. Do you prefer red wine? Or white?"
"I don't prefer to drink wine at all, thank-you."
"Oh?" he frowns like I've offended him. "I didn't realize priests weren't allowed to drink wine."
"It's not that. It's just that this isn't a social call."
"Isn't it?" he touches his chin, thoughtfully. "Well, it must be business then. I'll send for my notary at once."
"We don't need a notary. This is the kind of business that doesn't need to be on record."
"I see. How interesting. And here I expected you came to discuss a charitable donation to your temple."
"No." I grit my teeth, because just being around him is annoying and sickening. The lavish, extravagant room is enough to make my stomach flop. "I'm here because you have something of mine."
Rashii gives me a questioning look. "I find that unlikely, Priest Sanzo."
"It's possibly more accurate to say you've wronged someone I know."
"Ah. Now that is a very different matter. And, if I may say so, a very serious accusation to be making, particularly where a man of my standing is concerned. I assure you, I am the perfect picture of good citizenship."
Somehow I doubt that.
"Tell me, who is this friend of yours?"
"Not a friend, necessarily. More of a comrade."
"A brother in arms? How fascinating. I had no idea priests could lead such extraordinary lives."
I snort. "The nature of our relationship isn't important. All I want is for the situation to be rectified."
"Well, of course I'll see what I can do. Please, why don't you tell me what it is exactly that I've done to this person?"
"You're holding him captive for no discernable reason."
"Ah!" He throws his hands up a bit. "A serious crime, indeed. However, it's quite unlike me to do such a thing. I am a servant of justice, and of Buddha." He bows his head.
I struggle to keep my temper. He's just such an opulent clown. "I'm here to get him. It'll be hard to convince me to leave without him."
"My good priest, I still have no idea what you're referring to."
"Sha Gojyo."
Rashii makes an innocent, confused face, but his eyes turn hard. "Who? Forgive me, in my old age, I'm not very clever with names, I'm afraid."
"Sha Gojyo." I repeat sternly. I don't believe for a second this windbag doesn't know who I'm talking about. "You arrested him earlier this week. As we speak, he's rotting in a cell at the local prison that's not even suitable for a rat to take a shit in."
"Hm…" Rashii nods his head and looks grave. "Ah, well…I'm afraid I'm still not sure… It does sound like a terrible ordeal." He turns to his captain of the guard, "Oh, Ken-Lao? Do you perhaps know what our good Priest Sanzo is referring to?"
Ken-Lao nods stiffly. When he answers, I see a flash of gold in his teeth. "Sha Gojyo. The hanyou, my Lord."
"Hanyou! Ahh, now I remember. That insignificant, little creature. Hm. Ah, Priest Sanzo, you surprise me, coming on the behalf of someone so…distasteful. I can see you're a man of great propriety and taste."
"Listen, you cream puff. That insignificant, little creature is a personal friend of mine. Distasteful or not. Unless you can explain why you arrested him, I'll have to insist on his immediate release."
Rashii laughs at me, "A personal friend? That villain? My, my, Priest Sanzo. I never would have suspected such a thing."
"Enough. With the theatrics. What did you have him arrested for?"
With a cloudy sigh he sits back and takes a sip from his wine glass, "It's quite repulsive. Murder, my dear priest."
"Murder?"
"Indeed. Oh, there's quite a list. Your so-called 'personal friend' has killed—nay, slaughtered—dozens of my finest men. Not the least of which was my adopted son, Urok."
I'm quiet a moment, and he waits politely, "On what grounds?"
"Priest Sanzo, does a murderer need grounds to kill upon? He did it because he's an out-of-control, homicidal criminal. I wouldn't be startled at all to learn that the poor boy suffers from some form of mental ailment. Yes, he's much, much safer where I've placed him."
"Nice try, asshole, but I know Gojyo, and I know he's none of those things. If he killed your men, it must be because they attacked him."
For the first time, Rashii looks like he's listening to me, and he looks like he doesn't like what he hears, "Why on earth would my highly-trained, highly-professional men go out of their way to attack a person of such little consequence? I'm not in the habit of going about stomping on ants."
"Only a guess, so bear with me. But lately that idiot has hitched his wagon to the wrong kinds of people. Maybe if he's been crawling around in the underworld long enough, he might have come across your sleazy carcass, and maybe he accidentally stepped on one of your toes while he was at it."
Rashii gasps, audibly, "Are you suggesting that I, Merchant Rashii, have a hand in black market affairs? That I would be engaged in activities that would result in my brushing elbows with the likes of that scoundrel?"
"I don't care what you do or how you do it. All I know is that Gojyo's not the kind of person who goes around randomly killing people, and the only thing I came here for today is to see that you let him out of there, without delay."
"Oh, Priest Sanzo. This is all so tragic, I hardly know where to begin. Of course, my heart goes out to you on this matter—it must be hard knowing your friend is a violent criminal—and it can't be pleasant at all, knowing he's been locked away. Unfortunately though, circumstances being what they are, I'm not at liberty to release him. I've assessed that he's a danger to society, and likely to himself as well. Now, if he can prove he's capable of being a good boy, I'd be more than happy to reconsider."
I take a deep breath, a futile attempt at gaining some composure, "Whatever. I know perfectly well what makes a man like you tick. I'll pay his bail in full, immediately, if you'll just tell me the amount."
"Ah. I see. Yes. Well, unfortunately, the amount could be a bit more than a priest such as yourself is prepared to handle. Could it be that you're willing to dip your hands into the coffers of the temple in order to free this murderer?"
I hesitate. I grate out through my teeth, furiously and slowly, "If that's what it takes…"
"Hm. Well, Priest Sanzo, I'm afraid that, regardless of your willingness to pay, there is no bail for such a man. An offense as great as his is not something one can pay to erase, you see. It's a very serious crime, I'm sure a man of Buddha, like yourself, understands that."
This is all making me angrier and angrier, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep being polite to this maggot. "Have you seen the cell he's locked in?"
"Hm. I'm afraid I don't make it to see the inmates as often as I should." He smiles this horrifically aware smile, "Is it cozy? Perhaps there's something I can do to make your friend's stay more comfortable, seeing how it is an indefinite detainment."
I lose it, "Fuck you. You know exactly what it's like, and you know he's going to die in there—you've planned on it—I have no idea what sort of shit you're dealing in or how he got dragged into your disgusting mess, but you're making a fatal mistake."
"Mistake?" Rashii chuckles. He drains the rest of his wine, taps one fingernail to the glass, and a girl brings him another right away. "I fail to see how I've made any sort of mistake."
"The mistake is in thinking you can get away with this. You sit here, in your house, with all this luxurious shit, and assume you're the king of the mountain, that no one will step up to question you about this because he's just some ignorant, worthless Child of Taboo. That's your mistake, right there."
"I still don't see your point." He's guzzling down more wine. "As far as I can tell, that's all quite correct."
A hard, threatening smile curves on my lips, "But you're wrong. It's not correct. He's got friends in higher places than you'd even be able to guess at."
"Oh, you're referring to the legendary Cho Hakkai, are you not? I have it on good authority that Hakkai is out of town and not likely to return. In fact, I have it on high authority that his association with your little hanyou friend has been terminated."
"I don't know who your 'high authority' is, but you'd better check your sources. Hakkai's association with Gojyo isn't something that can just be terminated on a moment's notice. When he finds out what's going on—how you've obviously selected his partner to be your scapegoat—he'll be back here in the blink of an eye. He'll tear your house down just to make you listen to him. And if you won't listen, I can't even guess what he'll do to make you let Gojyo go."
"Oh, I shudder at the thought." Rashii murmurs, but his eyes are gleaming.
"Hakkai is the least of your problems though, believe me. You are about to invoke the wrath of a man whose power has no equal, on neither heaven nor earth."
Rashii laughs again. "This is all so amusing, Priest Sanzo. I'm so terribly pleased you stopped by to entertain me! To think, all that fuss and danger over a Child of Taboo."
"Don't make me laugh. You must have had a lot of fuss and danger over him yourself if you actually went out of your way to arrest him. It's obvious that idiot has stirred something up in this town that got him in over his head. I don't know what he did to get your panties in a knot, but I'm sure a bunch of your men wouldn't have gotten killed if he was actually as trivial as you're acting."
I can tell that annoys him, and he waves me off, suddenly, "I have no more time for this nonsense. Sha Gojyo is a murderer, and he'll stay where he is until I see fit to change my mind. These powerful friends you speak of can come and make their case, if they like, but there's no fighting justice, Priest Sanzo. They'll have to have something quite impressive to say to me in order to convince me that I've acted in the wrong."
I'm silent a while, glaring at him, and then I growl quietly, "Let me give you a taste of what sort of case they might make.
"I'll give you three days to let him out of there; if he's not out in three days, or if he dies somehow before then, I'll come back and put a bullet in your fat face."
Rashii's eyes get wide and his mouth drops open. He finally looks like he might actually be shitting his pants. Good. He should be. "Th-that's a threat."
"You're damn right it is."
"You can't threaten me!"
"I just did." I turn on my heel to go. "And concerning your next offering at the temple…don't bother. I don't want your blood money fouling up my coffers."
I walk out of the mansion feeling a little beside myself. That wasn't how I planned to handle that situation, and it probably wasn't the best way, but that asshole really pissed me off while I was talking to him.
I doubt he'll come after me over the threat—it would be incredibly difficult, and stupid, to arrest a high-ranking priest like myself, and even more impossible to actually hold me for very long—but if he doesn't let Gojyo go, and for some unthinkable reason, Hakkai and Goku don't come back and free him, I really will put a bullet in his head, and that could cause problems.
Three days is a long time to wait in a jail cell, but it's the best I can do for the kappa right now. If I call Hakkai and Goku today, and they leave tonight, they'll be back in time and I won't have to kill Rashii. I doubt Hakkai will be so annoyed that he won't want to help, but Goku will definitely come.
No, there's no point in even thinking any of that. Hakkai might be mad as hell, for all I know, but he'll still rush back here to save Gojyo. There's not a shred of doubt in my mind about that.
More agitated than ever, I start looking for a phone booth.
Hakkai
I'm sitting up, watching the hand of the clock edge toward three in the morning, and I haven't slept, because ever since I got home, sleep has been something that hasn't come easily to me. I keep thinking about everything that happened in Chang'an, and the words Gojyo and I said to one another, the horrible way my visit there ended, and I can't come to terms with it.
Every step I took, every action I made, was purely for the purpose of helping him—saving him—and I don't see how I could have tried any harder, yet it seems I failed. Perhaps the things I did while I was there only served to tear us further apart. But what should I have done differently? I feel as if everything went perfectly wrong the night I flushed the heroin down the toilet, and yet, even now, I don't believe I should have allowed him to go through with what he'd been intending to do with it.
Is that wrong? Would everything have worked out better if I'd let him deliver it like he was supposed to? Those men I'd fought outside our house said they were supposed to take Gojyo to Rashii, so as much as I found it impossible to believe, it seemed he may have been telling the truth about holding the drugs for Rashii. In any case, Rashii was involved in some manner.
Perhaps, I think now, it might have been better for me to stay out of it, and to support him without judging or attempting to take matters into my own hands.
I stir the tea in front of me and watch the tea leaves swirl around, although I haven't been drinking it, and now it's going cold, and I continue to watch the clock, waiting for a new day to dawn; just another day in which I have to live in a world where I've lost my very best friend forever.
It's hard to want to go on knowing that this is my reality. I haven't been to class since I've come back, and I haven't gone to work either. I've stayed home and slept and wept and all but gone into a coma over my emotional distress, because it seems quite impossible to move toward any sort of life—new or old—without him, and I'm not always sure I can make it; I'm not sure what I can do to end my agony.
All I can do is think it through, over and over, and each time I do hash through it, I always reach the same conclusion.
I did not act in the wrong. How could I have? When I think about Gojyo and the way he behaved on the first day, and all the subsequent days, leading up to that final night, I know what I did was not a mistake. It's true I could have reacted in a better way, but I know I was not mistaken in my worry and my desperate attempts to reach him. Everything that could go wrong apparently had, and no mishap was to be taken lightly, not when all I saw and heard around me seemed to indicate that he was on a fast-track to complete and utter destruction.
Part of what keeps me awake at night now is the notion that things are still that way, if not worse, only I'm not around to say anything about it.
It hurts to think though, that this could have all been avoided if I'd tried to reach him earlier—years ago.
I'm not sure what went wrong with him exactly. The only thing I have is my inference that all of this leads back to his deep-seeded insecurity which he's buried over the last two decades or so. He's always been careful not to let on too much to what he honestly thinks and feels, but I've been around him enough that I have seen shreds of evidence, here and there, of the fact that Gojyo believes himself to be hopeless and worthless and good for very little. The incident in which he took Banri's place as a hostage alone showed me that he must have been under the assumption that Banri's life was more valuable than his own, and if that wasn't a terrible thing to think, I didn't know what was.
All of that is a misconception he must have grown into between being a pre-pubescent child and becoming a teenager, and surely it's a seed that his witch of a mother planted inside him, and yet, for as long as I'd known him, Gojyo had always acted as if he just didn't care one way or another if he was worth something or not, and I suppose, in my ignorance, and in my position, I'd been willing to believe him, and to leave it be.
Something must have changed though, at some point; He must have woken up to face that harsh, self-imposed reality, and been crushed by it, and I, having gone away, either hadn't been there at the time to tell him how ridiculous it was, or hadn't stayed long enough to make him believe it.
So, somehow, he'd wound up working for Loki, rather than spending a weekend night frittering away the hours at the casino, as was his custom. Essentially, that had destroyed his life.
I can't help feeling like it's all my fault, but I know that's ridiculous.
Even if I could have foreseen the future, years ago, that we would reach this point, what could I honestly be expected to do or say to challenge those issues that were so deeply ingrained in him? I was only as old as him, and though I'm naturally more responsible and more level-headed, it wasn't as if I had a vast amount of experience over him. Just the opposite, in fact: Gojyo, and his worldly experience, had always made me feel a touch naïve, because all I'd known at the time were the things I'd seen while living at the Catholic orphanage, and the things I'd learned from university. How applicable was any of that? How was I supposed to look at my friend—though I fully recognized his insecurities for what they were—and tell him exactly how he should deal with them?
I had tried to show him the truth through my own actions, and I had thought that, maybe, my friendship could disprove to him his own skewed view on his worth, even without my saying anything about it; for a while, it seemed like it had worked—I had thought things would be at least okay for him.
It seems that I was wrong though, and in the meantime, everything else was outside my control. After all, how could I be expected to convince him to stop smoking, or even to cut back in the slightest? How could I be expected to tell him, to his face, that his mother had been a lying, terrible, emotionally unstable witch, and that his brother had been an impotent coward for leaving him, and that he should have put all the lessons he'd learned from their actions out of his mind? How was I supposed to tell Gojyo how to be an adult?
How could I possibly be expected to compensate for all the failures of all the other people who had ever been an influence on him? Banri, not the least of all.
The only thing that man had ever taught him was to take what he wanted, spit in the eye of society, do what felt right, and never bother with the consequences; Gojyo was young then, he was looking for his brother, and he was already inclined to be that way. Was I supposed to believe my aptness and maturity could ever have made an impression on him? Wouldn't it have simply driven us apart?
You're just making up excuses, Hakkai, in an attempt to evade your own guilt.
In actuality, it probably would have helped. Gojyo was far from impressionable by the time I met him—he was worldly and streetwise and even mildly cynical by then—and it's true that it had been hard to get him to do things like laundry and dishes, but it hadn't been impossible. Even then, I'd seen that I did have some influence over him, even if it was only a little.
I didn't realize it at the time, but I know now that Gojyo looked up to me, in some way or another, secretly, deep in his heart where he'd never admit it to anyone other than himself, the same way I've always looked up to and admired him. So it's only a pitiful, guilt-ridden excuse to tell myself I couldn't have changed the outcome of his life. I know that, if I'd said something to him at the time, he may have passed it off and played it down and turned his nose up at it and pretended it wasn't pertinent at all, but he also would have taken it to heart, and perhaps after mulling it over for a good ten years, it could have finally been of some use to him when he reached that point of not wanting to act completely careless and irresponsible anymore.
He's just as anyone else is, constantly changing, and it's incredibly obvious to think about now, that he wouldn't always want to waste his life copulating with strange women and gambling for a living, if it took him ten years or fifty to make that decision. I should have considered more deeply the notion that there would likely come a day when, for whatever reason, he would want something else, and that he may or may not know how to reach that goal, because, as I've noticed over and over, he has absolutely no idea how to behave like a responsible adult.
That's not your fault… I think, staring mournfully into my tea. Everyone left you, and then you didn't have a chance to be anything else. You became what you could manage to be because that was the only way for you to survive.
All of this to arrive at the unhappy conclusion that, while it's not my fault, I wasn't around when he needed me, so by the time I went home, it was out of my control. Now you're likely going to die for it, and there's nothing I can do.
How strange the lasting ties of the pains of youth can be.
Jeep flies over from where he's been perching on the windowsill, lands on the table, and comes across to me, tail dragging, wings drooping, ever so slightly. He nudges my hand, the way he always has when he can tell that I'm sad.
Tonight though, it seems the question is not 'what have I done wrong and how could I have done it better', because that, I realize suddenly, is not a pertinent question. This is not some school essay that wants feedback. This is the life of my best friend.
I don't know with any certainty if Gojyo's going to die or not. We've joked for years about the length of his lifeline, but I've always known that's nothing more than a crease on his hand.
Thirty isn't terribly old. Thirty is an extremely young age to die at.
Goku seems to think he's in terrible danger, and I'm inclined to agree with him, especially since he seemed to be ill, and surviving any attempts on his life will likely be much more strenuous and much more unlikely than if he were in top condition, like when we went to India.
The night I left, I knew he'd probably die soon.
"Is it true?" I murmur, looking deep into Jeep's ruby red eyes, stroking his head. "Am I powerless now?"
He croons, sympathetically.
"I certainly don't want to believe that I am. I don't want to give in to the idea that there's nothing more I can do. I don't want to lose him."
The thought steals into my mind: He would never give up on me, not even if I begged him to.
And it's not a shallow, meaningless, arbitrary thought. I know it's the truth. I've seen Gojyo take on a countless number of my personal battles, often to the detriment of himself.
Is that because he was afraid to go on without me? Or is it because he's loyal like that, and he can't bring himself to abandon someone he cares for?
This is the man who picked me up out of the rain one night when dozens of other people would have gone right on by without a thought. The same man who was willing to risk being treated as my accomplice if it meant Sanzo didn't get through that door.
I remember standing just inside the house, listening to him argue with Sanzo for the very first time, the mounting fear and nervousness in my heart, pounding like a drum of war. I remember the gunshot and how afraid it made me, to think that someone I barely knew, someone who'd done nothing but help me, without so much as knowing my name, could have been shot and killed on my account.
Even more so, I was afraid that Gojyo had been shot, just over the fact that he was Gojyo to begin with. Even then, I already felt that way.
At first, his loyalty had always surprised me, and then, over time I'd come to expect it, but even in recent years, there have been moments when it has left me speechless to see it in action. Because it never dulls or fades. He never gets bored with it. He never grows impatient.
Even when we first returned from India, the humans in town who'd survived the chaos had been out for my blood, because I was a youkai who'd had the audacity to come back to his hometown; on what should have been a normal trip to the market, they'd surrounded me, armed with torches and axes and pitchforks and clubs, intending to hang me up as a warning to other youkai who might be looking to come home. I could have fought them off, but I was tired of fighting, and I was drained physically and emotionally, and I hadn't wanted to kill them.
Gojyo was just as tired as I was, I knew, but he'd still stood between me and all our old neighbors and friends—three hundred people at least—and had announced that anyone who 'fucked with me' was 'fucking with him'.
I doubt he could have fought them off any better than I could, but most of them were either friends, lovers, or amicable acquaintances of his, and seeing how they'd been under the impression that he was a human, they'd been reluctant to raise a hand against him.
As much as I'd expected them to kill us both, his fortitude and loyalty had been too much for them to face, and they'd left, outraged to see a presumed human take the side of a youkai; we were both estranged from the townspeople for a time, but it didn't change the fact that his unflinching determination to be on my side had forced them to back down that day.
"…I can hardly believe…what you just did."
Gojyo had given me a somewhat confused, almost innocent sort of face. "What'dya' mean?"
"You could have been killed along with me, if not instead of me."
"Hm. I doubt it."
"That mob was out for blood, Gojyo. How could you be certain that having your impudent person getting in their way wouldn't merely incite them to kill you first?"
He'd frowned at me, "What's it matter?"
"What's it matter? It matters a great deal when you take a risk like that."
"Um. Hello? We just got back from India, where we fought every day to stay alive. How annoying would it be to come home and just let you get killed by a stupid, angry mob of humans?"
"Yes, but this is your town. You may have just damaged your reputation here permanently."
"Like I give a shit. If it's you or my reputation—crazy as it sounds—I'd rather lose the rep and keep the girl."
I distinctly remember staring at him in a rather disbelieving manner.
"And you shouldn't be so friggin' shocked." He snorted a stream of smoke from his nose, indignantly, "Like this kinda' shit hasn't been going on for like what? Eight years now?"
Eight years or not, I still couldn't help being overwhelmed by his camaraderie with me. I suppose, no matter how many times I bore witness to that reliability in him, it always touched me. It always took me back to the first time I'd really felt and noticed it, on the first anniversary of Kanan's death, when Gojyo's presence and refusal to leave me in the pit of the dark emotions that were threatening to consume me, had somehow managed to lift me out of the depths of my despair and show me, for the first time since Kanan had died, that maybe I wouldn't have to walk this world alone after all. His loyalty always led me back to the conversation we'd had on the day following that poignant, terrible anniversary.
"You didn't…get annoyed with me, or walk out or give up on me yesterday."
"Uh, no. Why would I?" He' d looked then just as blank and bewildered as the day with the mob incident, seven years later. As if the idea had never crossed his mind.
"Because I was frustrating and annoying and inconsolable."
He'd sighed, "Those aren't really good reasons."
"Not everyone would agree." I'd shrugged. "I'm grateful, that's all I mean to say. You've stood beside me through a lot of difficult circumstances, and you've even put yourself at risk for my sake. I won't ever forget that, Gojyo."
"It's not that big a deal. I mean, I could say the same thing about you."
"Naturally." I'd added sincerely, "A lot can go wrong in this world—we'd be foolish to think our trials are over—but…I'll always be on your side."
He'd smirked at me, in a contemplative manner, "Yeah? Always? That's a long time, Hakkai."
"I mean it though."
Always…
He was right. It is a terribly long time. Always is forever, and there shouldn't be any end to that, no matter what might happen along in the meantime.
"What am I doing?" I demand aloud, suddenly.
How could I just leave like that? How could I just give up on him and walk away from him?
Of course, I think I shouldn't be too startled at the fact that I did. If there's one thing I've seen over the years of our friendship, it's that Gojyo is a soft-hearted, self-sacrificing sort of person—it's the first thing I ever noticed about him—in short, a good guy. And I am not.
No, he would never turn his back on me, not if I begged him to; I've thought that many times. Yet, over and over, I've been ashamed to observe within myself a propensity to turn my back on him when he most needs me. I've done it on numerous occasions, the most memorable of them being the night Banri betrayed him, and the time he went to fight Kami-sama alone. It's true that, in the end, I corrected my wrong on both occasions and went back to get him, but it didn't change the fact that I'd left him high and dry, and that, by the time I did show up, he was already on the verge of getting killed. I shudder to think that, if I'd been just a moment later in either case, he would be dead.
I'm ashamed of that behavior, but that's the truth of it. Even though standing between me and Sanzo's gun was one of the first things he ever did after we met, I'm bound to fail him, every time he needs me, and while I'm scrambling to find myself and make up my mind as to whether or not I'm going to go back and save him, because I'm selfish, he pays the price.
He jumps in, hardly thinking about it, and I let my emotions get the best of me.
Yet you seem to hold me in such high regard as you would ten of yourself.
To make matters worse, always after I've let him down, I'm audacious enough to sit around and tell myself it's his fault he's in trouble, because he's such an impulsive idiot, and bemoan the fact that he isn't with me.
"Hakkai." I scoff. "You ass. When are you going to grow up?"
I should never have left his side.
He startled me quite badly, telling me to leave. I was so shocked, I couldn't think of what to do, but now I know I should have stayed and fought with him until things were okay again, because Goku's right. I can't just give up on Gojyo; he's made me very angry, and even if I see him again, I won't let him walk on me, and I have quite a few things to say on the matter, but I can't let our friendship die so easily, not when it means so much to me.
And perhaps, I can't even save our friendship, but that doesn't mean I should let him die. He doesn't deserve that, not by a long shot.
I think about the night he came home, apparently from raiding Sanzo's temple, and how he held onto me so tightly. Even then, it felt to me like he thought it was the last time he'd ever get to hold onto me, and he just wanted to make it last a little longer. I understand that he'd just done something awful and he was hating himself for it, and expecting me to hate him for it as well. Perhaps even wanting me to.
But I don't, Gojyo…
I have no idea why he did what he did, but there must be a reason, and I should have stayed to find out what it is.
His voice echoes through my head, quiet and full of pain. "I feel like you're really far away. I hate that…"
No, Gojyo. I'm right here. No matter how far away, I'll always be there for you.
"…maybe I'm the one who's far away…"
It only felt that way because you let it. You could have told me. You can always tell me everything. How can you not see that?
"…you're the damn best I ever had…"
I feel tears running down my face again and realize I'm crying for what feels like the one millionth time in this last week, and then I know I cannot let our friendship end this way. Everything Gojyo said to me the night he chased me out of our house could not have been real. It's impossible, because I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the things he said to me that night I was seeing to his wounds were real. I could feel it in every word.
I hate that…
He may have been holding onto me that night as if it were the last opportunity he'd ever have to do so, but I won't let him go. I'll fight with him and I'll yell at him, and I'll lecture him to no end, and I'm more than happy to put him in his place after the pain he's caused me, and I'll even forgive him and be gracious about it, when he finally begs me to, but I will not let him go.
I've made the same mistake over and over, but that's to be expected. It's not too late to right my wrongs.
I rise, suddenly, drying the tears away for the last time, and start to go around my house, getting together the essentials for the journey together, while Jeep sits up on the back of my chair and cheers me on in loud, triumphant chirps.
"What was I thinking?" I grumble. "Goku's quite right. It doesn't matter that he threw me out into the rain—I should have camped out in the front yard if that was the case."
I should have punched his lights out for saying those terrible lies to me, and then, perhaps when he came to, he might have been in a more compliant mood.
Goku, who's been sleeping in the small guest bedroom, comes out, rubbing his eyes, still dressed in nothing but the shorts he wears to bed. "Wha's goin' on?" He yawns. "It's a little early ta' start makin' breakfast."
"Goku." I announce, "I've thought better of it all, and I've determined that you're exactly right. There's absolutely no reason this should be the end of my friendship with Gojyo. After all, such insufferable selfishness mustn't be allowed to go unchecked, am I right? Just because he might want to be over and done with our relationship doesn't mean I am, and why should I give in to his childish whims now when I've done my best to stand up to them for the last ten years?"
"Uhmm…" Goku blinks at me with bleary, sleep-filled eyes, "What now?"
"The fact of the matter is, it's wholly absurd to think he could just get rid of me that easily. The more I think of it, the angrier I feel. He did nothing except behave like a immature ass the entire time I was there, and I actually let him get away with it. Inexcusable, I say!"
"Um, okay. So…where're ya' goin' now?"
I don't so much as pause to raise my eyebrows at him, "Home of course."
His eyes brighten a bit, but he stays cautious. "Ya' mean…ta' Chang'an?"
"Where else? Home has been there all along, as it turns out."
"Ta' see Gojyo?"
"To knock sense into his empty head." I agree with a smile.
Goku breaks into a tremendous grin, "Really? Ya' mean that?"
"I've never been more certain of anything. It's out of the question for me to be here while he remains there, and for our friendship to dangle by a thread."
"When're ya' gonna' leave?"
"Immediately. I haven't a moment to lose." It doesn't even matter that it's three am. I'll drive all the way through without resting, if I have to.
"Great! Awesome! I'll go get my stuff!" He runs back into the guest room.
I throw the last few things I think I'll need into my bag and zip it shut, and then grab my coat out of the closet, "Come along, Jeep."
Shrieking, Jeep leaps up onto my shoulder and settles there as we step out under the inky-black sky.
"We'll make Rashii and Loki the least of Gojyo's problems."