It was one of those nights when it felt it should be pouring rain.

Chilly, and yet wet, the darkness outside the window like a heavy woolen blanket, hanging down around everything and muffling every sound. Even the ruckus from the barroom downstairs seemed far away, the slurred laughing and occasional breakouts of fighting like some faraway dream, a memory dulled by the passing of centuries.

He thought like that every now and then. That other life he had led seemed like a dream he'd had three nights ago, faintly remembered but ignored, like it had never happened at all. Sometimes, he'd thought it had been a dream, with those cold chains about his mind and his heart and his body, bound to the side of a mountain with the sun so far away...

But then the sun had come to him again and stretched out his hands, and taken him home again... and he'd known it had to be true...

He'd known he hadn't imagined it, he hadn't imagined Konzen, he hadn't imagined any of it...

Gokuu touched the cool glass of the window with one fingertip, sighing forlornly as his stomach rumbled yet again. The food was all gone downstairs... and Sanzou wouldn't buy him any more, no matter how hungry he was. Hakkai had suggested he go upstairs, with that concern in his gentle face, that apprehensive air... He did that a lot, since they... he... had killed Homura. It was like he was trying to hide something.

He trusted Hakkai... so there had to be a reason.

But it wasn't like there was food, anyway. They were just drinking, and Sanzou wouldn't let him drink except sometimes. He didn't know why, but some things he had learned just not to question. Sanzou got mad, and it was a different kind of mad... instead of the regular mad when he would just hit him with the fan, it was a strange and frightening mad, one where he got cold and silent and ignored him for a long time...

So he didn't drink. But that was okay.

He watched the condensation form under his finger, eyes half-lidded, and he yawned expansively. Maybe he'd go to sleep... it'd quiet his stomach down if he wasn't awake to hear it, and then it'd be time for breakfast when he woke up. Besides, they only had the two rooms, and so if he took the bed now Gojyou would have to sleep on the floor instead. Sanzou always shared with Hakkai, so... Well, whenever Sanzou shared with Hakkai, Gojyou would find some lady to room with. Then Gojyou and Hakkai wouldn't talk to each other for a few days, and Sanzou would complain about Hakkai's driving more than usual. Then they would all get separate rooms and they would talk to each other again.

Gokuu yawned again and pulled away from the window, stretching up with both arms and cracking his back with a languorous roll of his spine. So he'd just go to sleep now, and-

"Bakazaru."

He jumped at the deep voice slurring that familiar insult, spinning awkwardly on one foot to face the door that had somehow opened without his noticing. His eyes fell on creased black leather and muscled shoulders, traveled with perplexity up to meet bloodshot orchid eyes set above pale cheekbones.

They stood in silence for what seemed like eternity, staring blankly into each other's eyes with an unidentified charge dancing through the air between them.

A 'humph' huffed from Sanzou, evidently with a heavy amount of effort, and he slammed down onto the bed, the vacant gaze becoming a fiery glare. Gokuu remained where he stood, in the middle of the dusty floor, blinking mutely at the monk who should be his master, and yet was his life, if only in his own heart.

"I'll bet he never called you that," came the black mutter.

"...eh?" All he could do was cock his head and wonder at the angry bitterness in the man's voice, the strange look he had never seen there before, on his face, in his eyes made liquid by alcohol. "Who never called me what, Sanzou?"

"You know." His eyes narrowed, back tensing and hands shaking as he waved an arm, dismissively, unwilling to say the name. "Him. That one who had you before me, before you were on the mountain-" Amaranthine eyes flashed sudden accusation, glaring deep into his face. "The one who let you get chained to that mountain, him!"

He took a hesitant step forward, wincing away from his unreasonable anger. "Sanzou," he placated, "you're drunk, Sanzou..."

"Urusee!" he snapped, that familiar flush of sake only deepening. "You're avoiding me, shut up and listen."

He fell silent, eyes wide, then sat gingerly on the mattress next to him, before him. Sanzou's eyes followed him, as sharp as they would be were he sober.

"You wish I were him," he muttered darkly.

"S-Sanzou...?" He cocked his head again, probing dulled memories, dreamlike images, fleeting thoughts that might have been imagination... "You mean... you mean, Konzen... Sanzou...?"

"Konzen," Sanzou spat, heavy lids flickering down in evident disgust.

"I don't understand," Gokuu said plaintively, leaning forward to peer deeper into his face. "I don't wish you were anybody but-"

"Don't lie," Sanzou snapped, features darkening in annoyance. "Of course you'd want me to be him, he was nice to you, he was-"

"He was you !" Gokuu protested, brow furrowing, a hand twitching, longing to maybe smooth over the bare shoulder, and yet... "Sanzou, he was you-"

"Stop bullshitting me!" There was venom in his slurred words, anger flashing in eyes that were dulled and yet somehow too bright. "Just shut up, you don't know what you're talking about."

Gokuu fell silent, staring at his hands. He didn't know how Sanzou had remembered Konzen... maybe it was just the sake, maybe he had found out somehow. But there was nothing to say, nothing he could say to make him understand how they were the same heart, the same person in different bodies, different times, gazing out of different eyes that were still the same, somehow...

"She asked Konzen if he would be my sun."

The voice startled even him, so soft, so frail... it was the voice he dreamed in, the voice that spoke his thoughts... so he let it go on, he let himself speak and remember as he let the memories surge through his trembling lips.

"And Konzen let me live with him, and Konzen gave me a name. He was pretty like the sunlight and I was happy. And we had friends too. And then he died, I think. But I was on the mountain for a long time, and I couldn't touch the sun anymore. I was cold and lonely for a long time. I couldn't take it anymore, I thought I might die."

He lifted his eyes to the pale orchid petals that had almost softened, feeling the cold, feeling the emptiness deep within him...

"And then Sanzou came," he said softly. "Sanzou came and stretched out his hands and gave me the sun again. Sanzou was there and Konzen was there. And before, when I was there in the palace and all alone, Sanzou was there too. Konzen was always there. Sanzou was always there. Sanzou is still here... Sanzou is here and I am here."

There was a long silence, and Gokuu closed his eyes, breathing. Just breathing.

"What happens when I die?" There was a starkness to his voice, his words, something beyond the effects of alcohol.

"I'll wait for you to come back for me again," he said simply, blinking into his eyes with nothing but honesty. "I'll wait for Sanzou to come."

"What makes you think I'll come back for you?" Sanzou whispered, long lashes fluttering against a still-flushed cheek.

"I trust you, I think." Gokuu smiled brightly. "I just know you will, somehow."

A hand rested against his hair, smoothing it lightly, and he sighed in delighted surprise at the rare touch. "Gokuu," Sanzou murmured, voice deep and soft.

And Gokuu laid his head in Sanzou's lap and waited for the morning to come again.