Goku takes a walk
Son Goku hugged the cloak around himself. The breeze was pleasantly invigorating, far from chilly. The coldness he felt came from inside. For the first time since Mount Five Fingers, loneliness claimed him. His heart was a riot of emotions: among them, sadness, shame and anger, but loneliness topped them all in a single swept. Oh, but humiliation came a close second. He bristled as he recalled that man's cold words, dropping like hailstones in slow motion. Words that ridiculed and rejected, no, repudiated his love. While the others had only seen his golden eyes sparkled at the sight of food, the night now witnessed the same eyes blazed hotly as Goku replayed the scene from last evening in his mind.
He recalled Genjo Sanzo's face, nearly obscured by the smoke from the cancer stick he was holding in his hand, that ivory, chiseled visage of a statue. The mouth on that statue had been pompously articulating the gist of the Nothingness doctrine to him, again. How Goku hated that pretentious little verse. It was probably invented by a bunch of bored monastery dwellers with nothing on their minds but time, tea, incense and more time as they sat on their hunches chanting nonsense and counting their prayer beads. Willing time away, waiting for the end. Except that for Goku there would be no end. He knew it the same way he knew his belly knew when to wake him up for night-time snacks or breakfast. The same way he knew that Gojyo meant well for all his nasty name-calling and cheating at the cards and food snatching. Death was not for him, no matter how much he wished it sometimes. Like those unbearable times at the stone prison. And like now.
He had caught a glimpse of Sanzo standing on the bridge when he came out of the inn. A lump had formed in his throat before he even realized it. The sight of the severe beauty bathing under the moonlight moved him yet again as it had never failed to, since that time when its owner had stretched out a hand to free him from his prison. The silvery reflection from the river danced across the monk's robe, taunting Goku: "See? See? Even we could play with him, he would tolerate us touching him, though he would not even have you pulling at the corner of his sleeves nowadays!" The rushing sound of the river reverberated in his ears like a mocking laughter. Goku felt stinging tears pooling in his eyes. He quickly lowered his head and walked hastily away. The monk might come out of whatever reverie he was in and noticed Goku, or worse, Goku's tears.
A pair of wings flapping above his head startled Goku from his troubles. He looked up. "Hakuryuu? What are you ___" he had meant to finish "___ doing here? You're supposed to be resting!" but the little dragon had flown on ahead, totally ignoring him.
This is totally weird, he thought. Pushing his not-so-little problem of the heart aside for a while, Goku started to run after Hakuryuu, following the dragon to wherever the supposed work-fatigue creature (or so according to Hakkai) was planning to go.
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And saves the day (or night)
The two henchmen of the tavern owner were having an easy time thrashing the itinerant medicine peddler into pulps. The older of the two, a stocky fellow with a permanently dour expression, smirked as he bent over to ascertain that the victim was indeed unconscious, not that he had looked like he was smart enough to play that kind of trick on them.
"Don't bother," his companion, barely visible in the shadows of the alley, said. "Fuyou [1] at the counter said that he would have combusted if he had rubbed the door the right way when he went out of the bar."
"He had that much?" the stocky man asked, tossing the drunk's pouch towards the younger fellow.
"Yeah. And he paid twice the correct amount too," the youth replied as he ransacked the pouch. "Nothing in this bastard. Pills and vials. Probably his trade stuff."
The older man grunted as he started to take off the drunk's belt, which was unusually heavy. The coins from the victim's pockets he had already stuffed into his own pockets.
"Hmm," he bounced the belt in one hand, feeling its weight. "Jiggles too. Take this one, Houshou."
"I'm already holding the goddamn pouch," Houshou protested. His partner gave an irritated snort and was starting to say: "Dump it, it's worth less than your mother's afterbirth" when they were interrupted in that dark alley, where moments before they themselves had interrupted a hapless drunk who had been trying to deposit more than ten mugs of beer's worth of piss into the drain.
"What are you doing?" a petulant adolescent voice was heard behind them. Along with the voice, the sound of flapping wings resonated in the dark.
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Ryou raised a hand to his spinning head. He was still in the alley he had stumbled in to relieve himself. He smelled of beer and piss. And his head was not the only part of his body that hurt. Those two had really been zealous in their work indeed. No prize for guessing what they were after. And look who is talking here, mister, a mocking voice grated in his head. Who is the one who decided he deserved to be drunk crazy for the night, to be a fool for the night. All because he heard some plebeian tale that had not been to his liking.
He took in the scene before him as he braced himself into a sitting position, leaning against the damp wall. In the dim light from the buildings across the mouth of the alley, he could discern a scuffle going on between a boy who did not look like he needed to shave more than once a week yet, and the thugs who had knocked him unconscious and had
probably taken all my money.
His hand went to where his belt was supposed to be… and grazed at the fabric of his shirt.
Ryou's drunken eyes widen in amazement. Those two would not like having to tell their boss how they were defeated by a kid barely dry behind his ears yet. They were not doing too badly, for the time, but Ryou could tell that the outcome was more or less decided.
He received his second surprise (or the third one, if you count being waylaid while trying to piss in a dark alley a surprise) for the night when he saw a white dwarf dragon hovering over him. Ryou's jaws went slack as he almost wet himself. If it were not for the confusion of the ongoing fracas, or his own state of inebriation, he would have felt that presence sooner. The august presence of the
"Eternal Retainer," he called out, his voice barely above a whisper. Later in his life, when he recalled this moment, he found it difficult to describe the emotions that had overwhelmed him. It seemed like the years that had weighted him down (particularly so tonight) had suddenly been lifted, leaving him an empty shell. He did not remember crying, but he knew that his cheeks were wetly warm as he stared at the transformation before him.
"Well-met, Scion of the House," a tall magnificent figure materialized before him. Well-met, indeed, Ryou's usual sardonic voice had recovered fast enough to notice the irony in the apparition's choice of words. The tiny scales on the spectral cheekbones reflected eerie silvery light in the darkness as the figure offered a pale ethereal hand to Ryou. Ryou's trembling fingers reached up for it. As he was helped up, he felt some of his drunkenness dwindle away. Well, that is one of the things old Fish-face is good at, he thought nostalgically. How he wanted those days back. Give me back the stolen years.
"I command you, Retainer, to take…"
"This Town of Bearers is not the place, Master," the shimmering visage interrupted him. "Some seven score miles to the west, at the outskirts of the place called Simplicity, we shall meet again. Until then, my duty is to…"
Ryou's despair caused him to cut in with such frantic desperation that the remainder of the apparition's words were lost on him. Not that it would matter to him had he even heard them. Nothing, nothing could stop him from his single-minded purpose now that the object of his search had appeared right before his eyes.
"How should I know the right place? Or find you again?" Ryou sputtered, totally sobered by insane anguish by now. To be so close and yet… He watched with misery as the lustrous form began to fade away. Choking back a sob, he fainted for the second time as the aftereffect of his happy consumption at the tavern returned with vengeance.
[1] Lotus.