Winters Past, Winters Present, a saiyuki fanfic

:: Winters Past, Winters Present ::

Gensomaden Saiyuki

Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: slightly AU, violence, gore, angst, morbidness, incest, language

Notes: I had originally intended on posting this in chapters, but then I ended up taking longer than I thought to finish it. I had also intended on making this shounen ai esque-- but it didn't happen, which is why I have no pairing warnings. The only real pairings you'll see are what's in the manga (Gonou/Kanan being the major one). If you want to see it, there would be some Gojyo/Hakkai or Sanzo/Goku, but nothing's confirmed-- which is really odd for me. I really was hoping to at least get some of my favourite pairing in here.

Oh well. It's still my Christmas fic for this year. Constructive criticism and feedback always appreciated.

Here

He knew it was winter because of the subtle shift in the air, the way the temperature went from cool to cold, the way the scent of dead leaves faded to be replaced with the icy smell of snow that had yet to fall. There was no actual snow to be seen for miles, but its presence was there.

Luckily for him, Goku no longer feared the snow.

Perhaps fear was too great a word; he hadn't been so much afraid of it as he had been depressed. Or maybe fear was the right word, and he had just been afraid of what it represented: five hundred years of coldness. The snow reminded him of the frigidness of Mount Gogyo's winters, reminding him that he was alone in the world, without comfort or friends. In winters past, after he had been freed from his rocky prison, Goku would retreat to his room when the snow fell. Wrapped in a blanket, curled up in a corner that was as far away from a window as possible, he would sit there for days, ignoring his pangs of hunger until either the snow melted or he could stand it no longer. Last year he had spent nearly a week in his room, and even then because Sanzo seemed to have gotten annoyed with his behavior, actually bringing the boy a little something to eat.

Now Goku rested his head against the window, squinting out into the darkness, trying to discern shadows from shapes. Puffs of steam stained the glass where his mouth and nose were. He was cold, but not uncomfortable. Maybe, this year, he would play in the snow for the first time.

Maybe, this year, he would have a lot of "firsts" for winter.

With one rough shake of his head, Gojyo sent snow flying around the foyer. His head was cold and felt as though it were encased in a hat made of ice. Grumbling wordlessly to himself, he shed his heavy coat and boots before stepping completely into the house, kicking the door shut behind him.

Silence.

He was used to silence, but this one was a bit unnerving. It was... different, somehow. Eerie. And disturbingly familiar, as though he had felt it before. Curious, Gojyo first went to the kitchen to drop off the groceries he had gone out for before walking into the room that served as a sitting and bedroom.

There he stopped.

An almost glazed look possessed another's eyes. This other seemed oblivious to his entrance, which was strange considering both seemed to possess a sixth sense when it came to the other's whereabouts. Of course, it was never useful when one really needed it, but there were times Gojyo got a prickling feeling on the back of his neck; he would turn, and there the man would be. After a brief conversation about it, he'd heard this other man admit to having a few of his own experiences with that.

Suddenly, Hakkai spoke. "I haven't seen snow this thick since my last Christmas with her."

Gojyo stared.

If it hadn't been for the weather, Sanzo was dead certain he would be in a better mood. He had nothing against the snow or winter itself, but the little things it did -- bringing strong winds that put out his cigarettes, cold gusts of air that blew away the steam of his hot tea -- were certainly enough to irk even the most patient of people after some time.

If he was lucky, the snow would melt by tomorrow. He had a few things to do in town the next day; Sanzo knew very well that he probably wouldn't be able to count on Hakkai or Gojyo to make a spontaneous trip up to the temple in such cold weather, and he didn't trust Goku to do anything without screwing it up somehow.

Speaking of the devil...

Sanzo paused in his steps, taking in the mildly strange sight before him. His charge was standing in the middle of the hallway, dressed in little more than his nightclothes as he pressed his face to a window. He seemed oblivious to his keeper's presence, as though the snow outside captivated him.

After annoyance began to creep into his veins, Sanzo spoke. "Oi. What do you think you're doing?" His voice came out short and gruff, but it didn't seem to faze the boy. Goku glanced back at him, blinking. "You're steaming up the window," Sanzo added, still frowning.

"Oh." Goku pulled back, glancing outside again. "Sorry."

The situation became even stranger with that simple apology. He had only known the boy a couple years, but Sanzo was already pretty much accustomed to his habits, knowing Goku to be one to usually snap back childishly, raising argument simply because he wanted to. Sanzo slowly followed his gaze, wondering just what could be so entrancing about falling snow.

The whisper came softly. "It looks like the sky's falling."

Somehow, it didn't sound as stupid as it should have.

Childhood

Even at such a young age, he had learned to tell the differences between a good silence and a bad one. In fact, there were many types of silences, too many to classify as simply 'good' or 'bad.' There was a tense kind, where bad things could happen; a secure kind, where bad things tended not to happen; a safe kind, where his mother wasn't around, and the unpredictable kind, where anything could jump out and surprise him.

Unfortunately, this silence was the unpredictable kind, and little Gojyo couldn't help but be scared. He always tried his best not to be, but it was really hard when he would be hit for the smallest reasons-- or even no reason at all, simply because of his hair and eyes.

Red. Blood red. He hated it so much, knowing that it was his damned physical traits that got him into so much trouble. He wasn't sure exactly why, but from the things his mother had screamed, he knew it had something to do with him being a 'taboo' child.

He didn't even know what that was.

Cautiously, quietly, the little boy slipped out of his thick, wet coat and boots. They were heavy with snow, and his hair was clinging to his cold, reddened face. It would be very bad for her to catch him in this state, where he was nearly red all over. Surely that would cause her to go into a real rage. He had to at least get to his room before he could feel even remotely safe.

The distance had never seemed so far as it did just then. Trembling from both cold and fear, Gojyo tried to keep light-footed as he made his way into the main room. He peered around anxiously; no sign of his mother. That was good, but he couldn't afford to feel relieved just yet. There was still the hallway to conquer, and his room was at the very end of it. Gojyo paused to steel his nerves, glancing edgily over his shoulder before he crept into the narrow hallway. Shadows swallowed him; they weren't enough to hide him, but hopefully they would conceal him from any quick glances. He wanted to run, but was terrified of making noise.

Past his brother's room; so very close.

Peeking into his mother's room, he caught slight movement. He pressed himself against the wall, breathing in sharply, surprised. After a few moments of no sound, he cautiously looked in again, his fingers slipping as he clawed the wall with rounded, human fingernails for support.

His mother was in there, but she appeared to be asleep. She was sprawled out quite ungracefully on her bed, wavy hair spilling all over the place; her face was concealed. Gojyo closed his eyes, biting back a soft sigh. He relaxed a bit, tiptoeing past the doorway, not hearing the telltale rustle that came from his mother's room. Two more feet to safety.

Three more small steps, one more foot to safety.

One more step, and he would be there. He even felt the cold doorknob beneath his small fingers, even managed to twist it just enough to push it open.

"Gojyo..."

And yet, after all that, he didn't even make it across the threshold.

Noisy. They were all so noisy. He wasn't about to rise to it as they would have, though it was very tempting. No, he would practice his patience, as he always did, and try to ignore the delightful laughter and loud shouting.

So much excitement, and over a silly day-- a holiday. The way he saw it, holidays were no different from any other day of the week. Of course, the church orphanage had a good reason to practice this particular holiday; it centered on their religion, a religion he didn't believe in. He knew he constantly disappointed the others by calmly stating that their God couldn't be real, but somehow he couldn't force himself to feel even the slightest bit of guilt for their downcast expressions.

But they were simply so loud. Gonou had half a mind to storm down that hall and throw something heavy -- perhaps his book -- and disrupt their happiness. In a way he was jealous, jealous that they could be so light-hearted, but a stronger, more defiant part of him was stuck in his way of mind: they were all fools, and fools died first. God saved no one.

Funny. He could have sworn he'd heard that phrase somewhere before, but at the same time he was dead certain he had never said it, and certainly none of these religious people had said it to him. Who, then?

That was silly. If he didn't recall it, then no one could have said it. Gonou pushed the thought and false déjà vu away, turning a page in his thick book and trying to concentrate on the words.

So noisy.

He eventually gave up, slamming the book shut. Even in his empty room, the sound seemed muffled by the festivities outside. He pushed the door open and laughter bombarded him. He winced, but made his way outside. Knowing he didn't have a hope of trying to slip past so many people without being noticed, Gonou hurried out the back way. As he had suspected, everyone was busy decorating the tree and singing their carols; no one noticed or missed him. Good.

Outside was cold, but there was no snow. It rarely snowed at the orphanage, even around Christmas. Some 'white Christmas' they'll be having, the boy thought to himself, kicking at a rock on the ground before tilting his head back to the sky. One thing he did like about winter was that the sky seemed to become clearer, giving him a better view of the star-lit heavens. A few puffs of clouds were littered here and there, but for the most part it was just stars, as many stars as the eye could see. It made him feel so small, but not insignificant in the least. Somehow, it simply reminded him that he was only one person among many and that his place wasn't as important as he tried to make himself believe.

Gonou couldn't afford to believe otherwise. If he did, then the day he met his other self, his lost half, he would be torn if she turned away from him-- the brother she had never met.

The mere thought was like a million icy daggers ripping at his chest.

Bosh.

The impact didn't really hurt so much as it startled him; it was cold, quickly sticking and melting to his sleeve, as though determined to freeze him. Frowning, the boy dusted the flakes off.

Bosh.

That one had connected with the back of his head. Turning swiftly, he sent a cold glare to the couple of students behind him. Shrieking at being noticed, they ran off laughing, obviously proud of themselves.

The idiots.

Kouryuu continued his way to the temple. He had spent the last couple of hours shoveling and sweeping the walkways; now he was hot with exertion -- snow was harder to shovel than it looked -- and even sweating a little, but the two snowballs were already cooling him off. He had been looking forward to curling beneath a blanket in his room, but now decided that hot tea would probably serve his body better.

Something hit the snow beside him. Kouryuu ignored it, knowing it was simply a snowball that had missed. He ascended the temple stairs, disappearing inside. Just as the door shut, another snowball hit it.

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. In fact, it was a yearly occurrence-- and it wasn't just the students, really. Anyone that despised him would do whatever they could to put him down. They didn't even bother to be discreet, which was only one of many reasons why he knew of their contempt.

Part of him wanted to go see his master, but at the same time he just wanted to be alone. It wasn't that he disliked his master's company -- how could he? -- but that it was a rare moment where he just wanted a bit of solitude. Sometimes he had a disturbing feeling that solitude would be something he'd have precious little of in the future.

Once in the safe vicinity of his small room, Kouryuu finally let some of his exhaustion show on his face. He went immediately to his cot, the idea of hot tea forgotten as he curled up beneath his blanket. He acted otherwise, but Kouryuu was still just a child. When he was alone he didn't mind being such. When he wasn't, however...

There was a slight knock before the door slid open. Kouryuu gave the intruder a dark look before realizing who it was. Seeming amused by his expression, the said intruder set a tray down near the boy. "I saw you working out there and figured you'd want something to warm you up afterward."

Kouryuu untangled himself from the blankets, gratefully accepting the offer. "Thank you, oshou-sama."

Koumyou Sanzo smiled.

"Hey, Konzen, what's snow?" He shifted anxiously from foot to foot, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for the answer that couldn't come fast enough. Still, when his keeper finally glanced up at him, he only answered with another question, though his was laced with annoyance.

"Why do you insist on bothering me?"

Goku folded his arms defiantly over his chest. "I'm not," he insisted, still fidgeting in his place. "So what's snow? Can you eat it?"

Konzen rolled his eyes. "You think everything new is something you can eat. Stupid."

"I'm not stupid!" Truthfully he didn't mind the insult, though it was probably because he simply couldn't feel any malice behind the word. Goku knew that somehow he could instinctively tell when someone was being rude or polite, mean or kind... especially when it came to his master, who he sometimes could swear he could almost read the deity's mind. He would come so very close, but somehow Konzen's psyche always managed to elude him.

Perhaps it was a rare moment where Konzen didn't feel like arguing, because he simply shook his head before answering. "It's a sort of cold rain that falls only on Earth."

Goku tilted his head. "So where's Earth?"

"You should know better than me. You were born there."

Oh. Goku remembered, but only vague details. It seemed like he had been living under Konzen's charge for years, when really it couldn't have been more than a few days, perhaps a week. It wasn't that time went by slowly, more that it simply felt like he had always been with Konzen, that life had began the moment they had met. It was strange, but that was how the boy's simple mind saw it.

But Goku wasn't about to let that deter him from his original intentions. He scrambled into the god's lap, clinging to him despite the loud protests, and speaking loudly to drown Konzen's voice out. "I wanna see the snow. Let's go see snow, Konzen!"

"Brat," the blonde growled, vainly trying to pry the boy's arms from his waist. "Let go!"

"Then taaaaaake me," Goku whined, clinging on stubbornly. "I won't leave you alone until I see it, and I only wanna see it with Konzen! So take me to Earth!"

The struggle continued a few minutes more, before Konzen finally gave up in disgust. "Fine. Get off me and I'll take you there tomorrow."

After squinting up at his keeper to determine his sincerity, Goku grinned broadly and detached himself from the man, cheering loudly. "Yay! Snow!"

He could already tell tomorrow would be special.

Adolescence

As always the bar was filled with the heavy stench of tobacco and liquor, though that night was rowdier than usual. Men (and some women) had come to celebrate the upcoming holidays -- whichever they may be -- so there was a lot of alcohol going around, a lot of shouting, a lot of laughter, and twice the amount of brawling.

And on this particular night, the crowds were gathered around a table near the center of the room, where a heated game of poker had been going on nearly all night. Mostly women flocked one side, all giggling and cheering their man on, all brushing up against him suggestively, all seeming to hope they would get to spend the night with the winner.

After all, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that, once again, Sha Gojyo would walk away the winner-- and the lucky man with any woman he chose. He had the devil's luck, that was for sure.

Though a bit too young to be there, most were willing to overlook the couple years of his being underage. It was a loose town, and that was exactly why he had chosen to live there; not so much because he could get into such a place, but because few people knew or cared about what his red hair and eyes meant.

Time to call, he thought, grinning with confidence that borderlined arrogance. Honestly, tonight his opponent was fairly difficult, but it was still far too easy to read his eyes. "It's a good night tonight," he said, dropping his cards face-up on the table. "Straight flush."

"Ohhh, good one, Gojyo!" the nearest girl cheered, leaning over his shoulder so that he got a good, strong whiff of her heavy perfume. It stung his nose, but he managed to hide the cringe by grinning broadly at her, narrowing one eye in what he knew women thought was a sexy look.

"Like I said, it's a good night," he replied, smirking across the table. "Well, Jen?"

Scowling, the stick-thin man dropped his cards down, throwing the last of his bills on the table before he departed, cursing. Gojyo simply chuckled; a sore loser always amused him.

Because, really, it's just a game. Losing a game or two is nothing to fret about... not when it's something so menial as this. The thought brought back memories, memories of pain as his hair was pulled, his eyes clawed at, a woman's sobs echoing in his ears as she tried desperately to murder the child who dared to ruin her life.

Really, if anything, that had been unfair. Gojyo's expression dimmed slightly. Mother...

"Are you going to play some more, Gojyo?"

"Yeah, play some more!"

"I'd rather you play with me, Gojyo..."

He wiped the memories from his current thoughts, half turning in his seat to grin at the women behind him. "Well, how can I turn down requests from such lovely ladies? Though I'm afraid I can only take one of you to bed tonight." There were some giggles and booing at his choice.

But really, that was okay. Just one woman would suffice. One woman was all he needed to get through the accursed night, holiday spirit or no.

It had started with sweet relaxation by their tiny little fireplace, both curled together to intensify the warmth. They hadn't spoken at the time, because they rarely needed words to feel comfortable around each other. She was, in that sense, his other half-- even if she was blood-related.

Somehow a small conversation had been started, peppered lightly with gentle humor and some chuckles. Somewhere along the way there had been a gentle kiss, then another, and yet another, each growing stronger and sweeter, each making him feel hotter and hotter, until he had finally reached this point, his trembling arms wrapped around the bare skin of his lover. The air was more than warm enough now, though he suspected it would soon grow cold.

Gazing down at her, it was nearly impossible to think about the holidays before this, where he had all but ignored them, spending the days alone in his room, tucked away in a safe corner to read. Now he had his other half, and he felt complete-- almost.

Not quite. Something was... missing.

The empty feeling vanished as she finally stirred, smiling up at him with tired but happy eyes, eyes that were as bright and green as his own. "Gonou..."

He smiled back, brushing damp hair from her eyes. "Was it good, Kanan?"

"Mmm," she sighed, burying her face in his chest. That was as good as a yes, possibly even better since she couldn't seem to voice it. Gonou ran his hands through her hair fondly, touching the loose strands only he was allowed to touch. So often she kept her hair bound in a loose braid, which seemed to make her younger than she really was (she was, after all, his senior by a year or two) but Gonou also loved to see it spill freely over her shoulders, caressing her, caressing him...

She was so lovely. Sometimes he wondered how he could have lasted so long without her. Perhaps, in a way, he hadn't.

But he still had the uncomfortable, gut-gnawing feeling that something was missing. He thought and thought, but could never place his finger on it. He had a lover, love, his other half, a slightly unstable but comfortable place to live, enough money to get them what they needed and maybe some extra for what they wanted... so what could possibly be missing?

"Gonou?" Her soft voice distracted him. "Are you happy?"

He stared, his heart hurting at the lost look in her eyes, as though she could sense his emptiness, as though she could simply tell... but that was impossible. With a smile and a chaste kiss, he murmured, "Of course I am. I'm with you, aren't I?"

At the time he didn't realize it, but it was the one lie he constantly told her-- and never did she see past it. If he couldn't, how could she?

I'm with you... but are we really together?

She finally moved off him, glancing outside the window and shivering. "There's so much snow this year, Gonou." He also sat up, pulling her back into a warm embrace, his eyes trailing outside as well. There was, indeed, going to be a heavy snowfall this year.

The temperature seemed to decrease with each step; each step made the snow crunch beneath his sandals, and each step made the cold stuff soak through to his toes. It had gotten to the point where he actually had to fold his arms over his chest to keep warm; his every breath was loud and ragged, blowing frosted smoke into the air-- and he didn't even have a damn cigarette.

Note to self: buy as many packs as money could buy as soon as I get to a village, he thought grimly. And a lighter. And something to eat certainly couldn't hurt. Too bad the last village he had seen had been three days behind; for three days he had been trekking in the wilderness. It hadn't snowed until the night before, and of course the weather completely put him in a sour mood.

So did the sudden ambush.

He didn't know or care who it was; they were threatening his life, and that was reason enough to bring the gun from his robes, whirling as he fired with skill brought by practice, rarely missing his target. They were only human; no birthmarks, no tapered ears, no signs of demon limiters. No, these fine young gentlemen were human, through and through.

Like that was going to stop him from defending his life. He wasn't fast, but he was fast enough to dodge. He couldn't block or evade every attack, but he could hold his own; he didn't hesitate to shove the gun to a man's hovering face; he didn't hesitate to pull the trigger and send blood and gray matter spraying.

The snow was becoming littered with dead bodies, melting in pools of thick red liquid. The coldness in the man's body slowly seeped out, replaced with heat as he continued to exert himself. All that surrounded them was woods, woods, and more woods; it was highly unlikely anyone heard the shrieks of pain or the sound of each gunshot shattering the previous calm of the night.

When all was calm again, the only sound left was of one man breathing, sweating despite the freezing temperature. In all there hadn't really been more than five people, all men. Still, each had conveniently fallen in every which direction; no matter what way he chose, he would have a dead body to step over and his robes would become bloodier than they already were.

Well. Since it couldn't be helped...

He strode past the dead bodies, the edges of his robes soaking up the blood greedily. Only seconds later was he mildly startled by another attacker, this one looking horrified but ready to fight, his ax to the man's gun.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked shakily, hands trembling. When the man didn't answer, he screamed hysterically, "What are you-- a demon?!" Still no answer; he shrieked and charged, swinging his weapon violently.

A dark, almost dead voice finally spoke. "A Sanzo." With a single gunshot, even more blood was spilled, turning the innocent snow the colour of death itself.

He wasn't quite sure why, but for some reason he did know that snow had once meant something good to him. Always the actual memory eluded him, as did any memories he tried to recall before he had been sealed away in this cave, but he could remember feeling a tingling, sweet nostalgic sensation every time it snowed.

However, a few hundred years could work wonders. Now he found himself curling up in the back of the cave, trembling from cold and fear as he watched the accursed white stuff fall. Whatever goodness it had held for him before, now that was gone. All he could truly remember was that it was cold, freezing cold, and uncomfortable.

All it did was remind him that he was all alone.

Goku buried his head in his arms, the feeling in his chest a weight far too heavy to allow him to cry. It felt as though it had been ages since he'd really felt emotion, though he could remember happiness, sadness, anger, pain... and slowly, so very slowly, he felt it all draining from him, pouring like blood into the pure whiteness of the ground.

Perhaps another reason he was growing to dislike the snow was because it chased away the warm rays of the sun.

That made a lot of sense, at least. The sun was important to him; it was the source of life for all living creatures; without it, nothing would be able to grow. Without the sun, he wouldn't be able to live, much less grow. Perhaps that was why he had never aged even after years and years (he'd lost count of how many very quickly) of living. The sun he was missing wasn't the one in the sky, the one that gave all creatures life. No, his sun was far more real and could only help him thrive. Goku wasn't certain what it was, but he knew it existed out there somewhere, because he could feel he'd had it some time ago, before he had been imprisoned.

Now he was feeling something, but it wasn't an emotion he ever welcomed-- depression. Moaning softly, Goku nestled his cheek on his arm, peering desolately outside. Perhaps if he could just run around in the snow, it wouldn't seem so confining, so fearsome, so endless, so blindingly white...

The snow was just far enough away that he could only reach it with the tip of his fingers, should he choose to. After freezing his fingers blue doing that once, Goku had long since lost all interest in playing with the strange stuff, and it all just went downhill from there.

Why was this horrible nostalgia plaguing him?

"So what's snow? Can you eat it?"

"You think everything that's new is something you can eat... it's a sort of cold rain that falls only on Earth."

"I wanna see the snow...!"

"... Get off me and I'll take you there tomorrow."

There was a brief flash of understanding, the barest moment of realization... and then it was gone, lost all over again, buried deep within the damned crevices of his mind. In a combination of anguish and sheer frustration, he let out a deep-set howl that echoed to the farthest corners of the mountains. Even with that echo, it seemed that no one heard his cry.

Now

It hadn't taken much coaxing to get the man away from the window; a simple suggestion that they play a game had sufficed. Of course, Hakkai being Hakkai, had insisted on putting away the groceries he -- somehow -- had known Gojyo had left abandoned on the kitchen counter. Sometimes Gojyo believed his housemate was just plain disturbing, and this was one of those times, and for more than one reason.

Some time later found the two men back in the bedroom, both sitting on the bed quite comfortably as Gojyo dealt the cards. They never bet money -- what was the point if it would just end up back where it started? -- and only put stupid things on the line when they were in the mood. This, obviously, was not to be one of those games.

For the most part, the game was played in silence. Normally they would play while talking about something, however inane; even the weather, so long as their voices filled the room. If not that, then a comfortable silence would settle, and would eventually be broken with a light-hearted joke.

However, this silence was tense and an uncomfortable reminder of Gojyo's childhood; the nights he would come home, trying to be quiet, and never make it to his room, his safe haven, without being caught by his mother. He just never could seem to escape her vision. It was like her eyes caught even the slightest glint of red.

The only difference was, this silence didn't just disturb him, it worried him.

How long had it been since Gojyo had allowed himself to worry that much?

"You know what Christianity is, right?"

The sudden question started Gojyo into answering automatically. "Yeah."

Hakkai didn't look up from his hand. "And I've told you I was raised in a Catholic orphanage, right?"

Gojyo remembered. The first time he hadn't been able to see the link between one religion and the other, but then Hakkai had patiently explained that one was just a branch from the other. "Sure did," he agreed, eyes flickering to his own cards. Now that the silence was broken, he was having a ridiculously hard time concentrating. "Isn't that the worst cliche ever?"

"It's cliché?" Hakkai asked mildly, finally raising his eyes to Gojyo's. The half-breed did his best to hold that gaze.

"Well, our Revered Monk up there was the same, right?" Gojyo laid his cards down on the table. "Living amongst the people but not embracing the religion. And straight," he added, this time talking about the cards.

"Sorry. Full house."

Gojyo sighed.

This time he allowed Hakkai to shuffle, but this time Hakkai spoke while his fingers idly toyed with the cards. "She didn't grow up in the same environment. I doubt we would have ever been lovers if it were otherwise," Hakkai said, though Gojyo sensed there was something more significant on the man's mind. He just hummed in response, eyes watching the man's wrists flick as he dealt the cards.

"Because I never embraced the faith, but she would have. You know, in the Christian religion, sleeping with your family is a sin."

Gojyo winced, his mind thrown back to some of the worst parts of his childhood. The screaming, the hands clawing at him; those were plenty bad enough. But then his mother being pulled off him, his brother talking to her in frantic but soft tones before ordering Gojyo to his room... and then, amidst the cigarette smoke, Gojyo would hear the creaking of a bed, the sounds of a woman's moans-- and only that woman's.

Hakkai seemed to notice the sudden change, because concern filtered into his voice. "Gojyo?"

The redhead shook his head. "Go on."

Seeming unconvinced, it took Hakkai a few moments for his voice to sink back into the detached tone. "It's supposedly one of the greater sins, right up there with sex before marraige and killing."

"Huh. If I was a part of that cult, I'd be damned to hell, then."

A smile flickered on Hakkai's lips. "I suppose so."

"So where's all this leading to?" Gojyo asked, waiting for the brunette to deal the cards. Hakkai's hands, however, had stilled; he was staring down at the deck as though he couldn't see it.

At last, he whispered, "I realize there's no way I could have possibly saved her, but it still... bothers me."

Gojyo paused before answering. "Yeah," he finally agreed. "Well. It's gonna."

Hakkai suddenly chuckled, though it sounded weak. "So knowing, aren't we?"

Turning his gaze to the nearest window, Gojyo squinted, trying to see past the thick flakes. It was already growing dark, the sun quickly disappearing and almost gone, but something in Hakkai's tone had made a feeling stir within him. It was one he knew quite well: he called it an impulse.

"Let's go," he said abruptly, fairly jumping off the bed. From the corner of his eye, he was pleased to see he had startled his companion.

"Go? Where?" Hakkai asked, abandoning the cards on the bed as he followed the half-breed to the foyer. He caught the coat Gojyo threw him.

"Don't ask questions. Just go put on some socks. It'll be really damn cold tonight."

When Hakkai hadn't moved, Gojyo met his eyes. Something like understanding passed between them; it left Gojyo with a faint tingling sensation, as well as something else stirring within him, though this something was a bit more primal and bit more unfamiliar. He knew it, could name it, but wasn't used to it.

However, Hakkai's genuine laughter told him he'd done a good thing. Without saying another word, Hakkai obediently pulled on a thick pair of socks, jammed his feet into his boots, and both left the warm house and trekked into the icy snow.

For reasons Sanzo couldn't even begin to fathom, Goku had followed him. He wasn't objecting to the monkey being in his room just yet, but the silence was getting to him. Normally any noise would have made him twitchy, but he quickly found that the absence of noise caused him to be even more unnerved. A quiet Goku was an unpredictable Goku, and that was never a good thing.

It wasn't just a recent silence, either. The brat hadn't said a damn word since the comment about the snow back in the hallway.

Glancing up again, Sanzo noted that Goku had finally started moving. It was idle moment, just his fingers tracing senseless patterns on the floor, but it was movement nonetheless. Relief seeped into him, which only served to annoy him even further. Sanzo glared down at the newspaper, but still the words wouldn't stay still long enough for him to even attempt to try to absorb them.

"I went with Hakkai and Gojyo to the village yesterday."

The words weren't so much of a surprise as they were welcome. Sanzo shoved the feeling aside, keeping his voice monotone. "I know that."

Goku didn't look up. "There was this one store they wouldn't let me go into. So I had to wait outside. It was really cold."

"Does this have a point?" Sanzo asked in irritation.

Golden eyed flickered up briefly. "I'm getting there." Goku quickly looked back down, his fingers gradually slowing to a stop, as though he had run out of patterns to trace. "I heard some girls talking about stuff, but by the time Hakkai an' the stupid water sprite got back, I forgot about it."

I am not going to ask what it was, Sanzo thought grimly as the boy paused.

Seeing that Sanzo wasn't going to say anything, Goku went on. "They were all excited, talking about presents for C... Chrissums. Or something."

"Christmas," Sanzo said promptly, the word slipping from his mouth without his meaning it to. He cursed inwardly, but managed to keep his expression impassive.

"Yeah, that," Goku agreed. "Who is that?"

"Not who, what," the blonde said shortly, turning a page he hadn't read. "It's a holiday, not a person. Idiot."

"Oh. Well, what kind of holiday, then?"

Shrugging, Sanzo glared back down at the newspaper. It still wouldn't cooperate with him. "You should have asked Hakkai. I wouldn't know."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not something a practicing Buddhist bothers to learn about."

Scoffing, Goku muttered, "You aren't a practicing Buddhist, sadist." Sanzo caught the insult and glared, and the boy quickly looked away. Snorting, Sanzo went back to his paper. He relaxed. The tension around the boy, for whatever reason, was diminishing.

"I heard them talk about other stuff, too," Goku was promptly. "Like Christmas dinner. Can we have a Christmas dinner?"

Sanzo shot him an irritated look. "Didn't I just tell you I don't bother with that sort of thing?"

The boy scowled back, though with his features it resembled more of a pout. There wasn't much Goku could do about it; he hadn't quite grown out of his childish features yet; there was still some baby like roundness in his cheeks, and it seemed that in the many years Sanzo had known the boy, that the innocence and blind trust Goku held had only been tainted with mischief-- if you could call that tainting.

"But there's supposed to be a lotta food for Christmas dinner," Goku protested, leaning forward eagerly. "A lotta good food! It all sounds really super delicious, too!"

The verbal prodding had already begun to annoy him, and now the boy was fast pushing his luck. Sanzo opened his mouth to retort, likely to insult the boy at the same time, but something else cut off the argument before it even started. His only hint was a familiar voice saying faintly, as though muffled, "Hey, wait--" before the snowball crashed through the monk's window. Being the lucky monkey that he was, it hit Goku right in the face, causing him to topple over with a loud cry of surprise and pain.

Sanzo immediately got to his feet, striding to the window. Had he not heard the voice beforehand he would have had the gun with him, cocked and aimed even before he reached the now-broken window. The blonde unlatched the window, pulling it open and glaring into the darkness at two silhouettes. "What the hell's wrong with you?" he demanded. "Do you have the slightest clue how late it is?"

"Gojyo, you bastard!" Goku swore, suddenly ducking beneath Sanzo's arm and trying to scramble out the window, still in only his night clothes. "What the hell was that for?!"

Growling, Sanzo put his hand over the boy's face, shoving him back. "Idiot! If you're going to jump out the window, put some clothes on first!"

"Oh ho," Gojyo's amused voice called. "Naked monkey in the room, O Holy Monk? That's gotta be a sin in any religion."

Sanzo glared before turning his attention to Hakkai, who had glanced away, likely to hide his amused chuckles. "And what do you get out of this?"

Hakkai turned his head back, the familiar smile plastered to his face. "Sorry," he said, though his voice wasn't apologetic at all. "I just followed Gojyo to keep him out of trouble."

And a fine job you did, the blonde thought crossly, thinking about the broken shards of glass on the floor. It was amazing Goku hadn't cut himself trying to get to the window.

As thought sensing the man was thinking about him, Goku reappeared behind Sanzo, now hastily dressed in warmer, thicker clothes. "Now can I kill him, Sanzo?" he complained, ducking beneath Sanzo's arm without waiting for an answer, crawling over the sill. "Gojyo! You're so dead!"

Sanzo watched the boy drop to the snow below him; the crunch of the boy's steps made him pause, remembering the crunch of his own feet as he walked through a forest of dead bodies. His attention returned to the boy outside, and then he was reminded of the year before, when he had done his part in coaxing Goku outside-- by doing a silly thing, climbing out the window, just so they could go for some steamboat cooking.

This time Goku had gone before him.

Maybe, just maybe, that boy wasn't as weak as he seemed. Sanzo was only sure of one thing, and that was that even he had a long way to go to reach that level of confidence.

Present

"If you think I'm letting you two stay the night just because you stupidly came out here so late, you're sadly mistaken."

Four pairs of footsteps littered the snow; three belonging to adults, one to a child. Two pairs formed a path, barely breaking off it, while the other two constantly got sidetracked, forming snow craters in the ground. Some snowballs were left behind; a lot of snow stuck to several articles of clothing, restricted to no single person; not a man was left untouched by a snowfight at some point or another.

"In that case, we would be much obliged if you came with us instead. It's horribly dangerous to walk back by ourselves, you know."

The wind whispered softly, bringing back the murmurs of memories, not all necessarily bad, but not all entirely good. Each and every emotion had been tried and tested at some point in life, and each one needed a memory to be sustained.

"Aw, come on! You're making us seem pathetic!"

Gloved hands descended to a head of mussed hair, shoving a startled youth into a snow bank. Yelling ensued, littered with curses and insults that any monk should be offended by-- though the one with them was not; he reacted as though it were an every day occurrence. That is, until a loosely packed ball of snow hit him on the neck, trickling down his neck with icy coldness. Then the air exploded with twice the amount of insults and ten times the pain.

"Hey, Hakkai! If we're gonna stay the night, could ya make a really big Christmas feast?"

The pristine whiteness was stained with nothing; the white stretched on and on, broken only by brush and trees. It was cold, but somehow fun to play in anyway. Of course, it wasn't nearly as much fun to have the stuff dropped down your shirt-- or your pants. There was a loud, almost girlish shriek, followed by an explosion of childish fighting and wrestling.

There was no real hatred or anger.

There was no loneliness.

There was no blood.

And there was no emptiness.

There was, however, a comfortable air of companionship. It was thinly veiled with jokes and insults, but few of the barbs were real or sincere.

"I suppose I could, Goku. Would you like to help?"

"Yeah! I wanna help!"

"Keep your voice down; it's still the middle of the night!"

"God, Hakkai, do you have to let him help? He'll only end up killing us all!"

But most importantly, there was the web of trust. Time had yet to strengthen it properly; when it was done they could be called forth for their duty. But right then, though existing, that trust wasn't yet strong enough to hold them all. They would continue picking each other up, each in his own way, and then, eventually, they would become as indestructible as any mortal could get.

"Yakisoba! I want yakisoba!"

"You can't have that for Christmas!"

"Says who?!"

"Now, now, I'm sure it's perfectly acceptable. We can improvise."

"Ha! See?"

"Look, you little--"

"Both of you shut the hell up!"

It was just one winter in the long and tangled skein.