Warning: This chapter and some that follow contain references to/spoilers for several events in the first season of the Saiyuki anime and/or the nine volumes of manga (including the Kami-sama arc). Everything here should still be understandable if you're not familiar with those; but you might appreciate a couple scenes more if you've read the manga and/or seen the episodes referred to. That said, on with the angst—uh, the story!

Part II

Chapter 4

Sanzo had begun to come out of the coma during the dark pre-dawn hours, but his fever was higher, and he had returned to the state of fitful dreaming that usually plagued him as his body fought its way back from traumatic injury. He shuddered repeatedly in his half-conscious sleep as he felt himself suffocating over and over again in deep layers of hot sand, each time emerging in the throes of gut-wrenching pain, his robes drenched with blood, and the sharp, coppery tang of the warm red fluid in his mouth.

In his nightmare he choked back a cry as Rikudo's spear punctured his stomach, and he spiraled into unconsciousness to the roar of Goku's scream as his limiter burst and he changed to his other, monstrous self to retaliate on Rikudo. Sanzo gasped for air as the sand engulfed him again, and the dream image of enraged Goku melted into that of himself as a boy, Kouryuu, his heart screaming in helpless rage as he watched Sanzo Koumyou fall in a pool of blood, the Seitan Kyomon torn from his shoulders. The pain in the boy's heart merged into Sanzo's agony as scorpion-poisoned claws dragged through his chest and abdomen; golden eyes, wide with anxiety below a golden diadem, were the last thing he glimpsed before he sank again into the suffocating sands.

The monk thrashed in his sleep, trying to fight his way out of the engulfing sand, perspiration drenching his hair and gleaming on his face and the little skin that showed between his bandages.

"Sanzo." With one foot on the floor and the other knee on the bed, Hakkai leaned over the feverish man, his hands grasping his shoulders to still him, his voice soothing. "Sanzo. It's over. You're here with us."

Sanzo's eyes flickered open, and he registered the familiar monocled green eyes bent close to his face. He closed his eyes again and turned his head away, but relaxed under the other man's hold.

"Give him some water, Goku," directed Hakkai as he released Sanzo and made space for the boy to take his place. "I'll make tea with something to help him sleep more easily."

Goku gently lifted Sanzo's shoulders and held the water glass to his lips. Sanzo gulped a sip or two, then winced with pain as he drew a deep breath and tried to speak, but instead lapsed back into semi-consciousness.

Goku was dozing in the chair he had pulled up beside Sanzo's bed when the nightmares resumed a few hours later, and the monk's restlessness brought him to anxious attention. Sanzo's face was shadowed with pain which his companion could not tell was from his present injuries or ghost pain arising from his dreams. The boy's body tensed, his fighting instincts risen, wanting to lash out at whatever was hurting the man he watched over.

Dreaming, Sanzo choked again on desert sand as he swallowed down the overwhelming pain in his gut while he staggered up, aiming his pistol at the raging youkai Goku. Then he threw the gun aside as Goku attacked him, and instead called on his sutra to subdue the monster. The blood and bile rising in his throat threatened to choke him as the boy he had raised returned to normal and collapsed on top of him. And together they sank into the smothering sands.

Goku was somehow still beside him when he emerged into the monastery as his younger self and watched again—as he had hundreds of times in dreams and waking memories—the youkai assassins clawing into his master then escaping with his sutra. The oppressive weight of Koumyou's crown and the sutra the master had passed to him crushed him back into the engulfing sands. But this time Goku grasped his hand and wrist in a tight hold and pulled him back, stopping him from sinking under. You better not leave me alone, Sanzo, he heard the boy scream over the howling wind. Because I'll follow you and drag your sorry ass back, damn it! You better not cop out and die, you stupid monk!

"Sanzo." Worried golden eyes met his violet ones when the monk woke again from his dream to what seemed a far-off call. The choking sands of his nightmare receded as he felt the gentle but forceful hold on his shoulders again. Different hands. The idiot monkey this time.

"Shut up, bakazaru." he gasped. "Stop. . .yelling. . .at me." It hurt too much to say more.

"I'm not yelling at you, stupid monk. You're dreaming." Goku swabbed Sanzo's brow with a cool cloth, then supported his shoulders while he put a cup of Hakkai's herbal tea to his lips. "Here, drink this."

Before he could answer Sanzo's unspoken questions about where they were and how long he had been unconscious this time, the monk slipped back into half-conscious sleep, Master Koumyou's lessons echoing in his mind: The orange allows the blue to look especially beautiful. Because they are complementary, they bring out each other's best.

Goku relaxed a little, encouraged by the older man's brief flare of temper. His anxiety further diminished when Sanzo slept more quietly for an hour or two later that morning, his breath coming easier, his facial muscles less drawn, his color less ghostly.

The boy had turned the chair to face away from Sanzo's bed, and he sat backward astride it, Gojyo fashion, his chin resting on his crossed arms on the top of the chair back. He studied Sanzo's face, looking for the telltale signs of returning pain or stress from his dreams, then found himself wondering again if Sanzo's hair would fall through his fingers in silky folds as Yanane's had. With Sanzo still insensible and his own apprehension still high, Goku did not resist, this time, the overpowering urge to smooth the golden locks back from the monk's forehead, slipping his fingers through Sanzo's hair. The briefest of frowns crossed Sanzo's face; then his bruised body relaxed further under the gentle touch.

Goku's eyes strayed to Sanzo's lips, slightly parted as he panted to bring enough air into his compressed lung. The youth recalled the pressure of the girl's lips on his, the urgency of her kiss, his own urgency as his body responded to the stimulation. He licked his lips as a fleeting thought crossed his mind of whether Sanzo's lips would part for his tongue, what the taste of Sanzo's mouth would be, if he kissed Sanzo as he had Yanane.

Goku flushed with a wave of heat and embarrassment, pulled his hand away as he backed off the chair, and paced to the window. No way. Sanzo would kill me! And that's not the way it is with me and Sanzo, he protested to himself. In his mind's eye he saw Sanzo as he had first seen him, his golden hair lit from behind by the sun as he blocked the patch of blue sky that Goku had watched through imprisoning bars for five hundred years. He felt the warmth of Sanzo's hand closed around his own as he led him to freedom and a new life.

Memories flashed through his mind of himself following Sanzo around the monastery asking questions; of Sanzo teaching him to read, hitting him with his fan when he forgot the same word for the fifth time in as many minutes; explaining to him about Koumyou's orange paper airplanes and blue sky. And then to more recent images of himself and Sanzo fighting side by side with Hakkai and Gojyo; of the fear and devastation that had driven him into going youkai when Rikudo had gored Sanzo with his spear; of his overwhelming desire to protect Sanzo when Kougaiji got in their way in the desert.

As he looked out the window, his throat constricted as it did every time he considered how lonely he would be if he lost Sanzo. With no memories of ever having experienced love and affection, the monk's dubious companionship and the assurance that he would always have it had been enough for Goku to think of Sanzo as his sun. He looked again at the flaxen head on the pillow across the room. He still thought that way.

Yet lately things had changed. Sanzo was no longer his only mentor; he had Hakkai to learn from now, too—and he was a more patient teacher. He had Gojyo to beat up on him and look out for him. And his golden sun seemed not to always have the answers to everything anymore. Hadn't it been he, Goku, who had pulled Sanzo out of his slump and shown them all what they needed to do to beat Kami-sama? Wasn't it he, Goku, taking care of Sanzo more and more instead of the other way around? That Sanzo was flawed, and that he seemed to need Goku as much as Goku needed him, only increased the younger man's affection for him.

Goku caught sight of Hakkai and Gojyo in the inn's garden below, sitting side by side beside a small pool of water with a fountain trickling over a pleasant arrangement of stones. Smoke from Gojyo's cigarette drifted over their heads. The youth longed to have the same easy companionship with Sanzo that Gojyo and Hakkai had with each other. And maybe, just maybe, he did feel about Sanzo the way he was certain Gojyo felt about Hakkai.

* * *

"You're awfully quiet," Hakkai told Goku as they walked together to the diner down the street.

Goku shrugged. Hakkai had insisted he take a break and get out of their rooms for some air. He and Gojyo had decided to order take-out for dinner, and Gojyo had agreed to keep watch over Sanzo while Goku went with him to get it.

"He's over the worst," the older man reassured his companion. "By tomorrow night I'm sure we'll be fighting with him to stay here resting."

"I know." Goku kicked a small stone, and it skipped ahead of them. They returned to silence for a few minutes.

"Goku—"

"Hakkai—"  they began together.

Hakkai smiled. "Yes?"

The younger man hesitated for a long minute before continuing. "Hakkai, when we were in that last village, that red-haired girl, Yanane. . .you remember her?"

"Mmm," Hakkai responded, waiting.

"Well, umm, she. . ." He paused and restarted, not sure quite what to say. "When we were alone, she, umm. . ."

"Yes, I think I know," said Hakkai smiling to himself. "Gojyo mentioned that you had had—an encounter—with her."

Goku's head jerked up. "Stupid kappa! He should mind his own business!"

"He didn't say much," Hakkai assured. "She seemed to enjoy your company, Goku." His tone encouraged the younger man to continue.

"I had fun with her," said Goku. Hakkai noticed his color rise at the memory. "She was really nice to me. And we talked a lot about her family."

Hakkai nodded, giving his companion room to take the conversation where he wanted.

"That last night we were there, she told me she really liked me—a lot." He emphasized it as she had to him. "She said she loves her brother and sister, and she told me about all the things they do with their friends, and how they look out for each other, and how they have fun together even when they tease each other and insult each other." His words tumbled out rapidly, trying to keep pace with his thoughts. "She asked me if I had a family, and she asked me a lot of questions about you and me and Gojyo and Sanzo. And I realized that we're a lot like her brother and their friends."

"And?. . ." Hakkai encouraged when Goku paused again.

The younger man chewed on his lower lip, again uncertain how to proceed. "And then when. . .and after that she. . . That's when she told me she liked me a lot." He blushed, looked at the ground, and kicked another pebble, not able to tell Hakkai that she had kissed him. "She made me think she might feel about me the way she does about her family and her friends—something like that anyway. . . And it made me feel something like that for her, too. I think. At least then it did."

Hakkai could tell from Goku's hesitation and confusion that something more was on his mind. "Are you wishing you could spend more time with her, Goku? Are you missing her, maybe?"

Goku met his eyes, genuinely surprised, and shook his head. "Uh-uh. I liked her, but that's not it," he explained as he realized what Hakkai might be thinking. "It's just that. . .well. . .it got me thinking. . .and now I keep wondering. . ."

"Yes?"

After another pause, Goku blurted out, "How do you know when you love someone, Hakkai? Or when someone loves you?"

Hakkai was taken aback by the sudden question, his faint smile tightening to a hard straight line. Kanan's smiling face filled his memory. Kanan shaking her long hair over her shoulder as she smiled up at him when he arrived home from school. Kanan's warmth and shiver of desire as he wrapped his arms around her and she hugged him back. Their home torn apart, flowers strewn on the floor, Kanan missing. Kanan sinking into a pool of her own blood behind the bars that had prevented him from stopping her when she plunged his own knife into her belly.

He squeezed his eyes shut, did not look at Goku when he recovered enough to say, "Why do you ask, Goku?"

The younger man hesitated again, Hakkai's distance and the pain that crossed his face more obvious to him than the older man might have expected. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean to make you think of. . .that. You must have loved her very much."

"Yes." Hakkai glanced at his hands, unconsciously flexed his fingers, felt again the blood of the hundreds he had slain flowing over them, staining them—permanently, it seemed—the dark red of murder and death. Perhaps I loved her too much.

"It's just that I've been thinking. . ." Goku persisted. "I told Yanane you and Gojyo are our best friends—me and Sanzo's. And you and Gojyo are each other's best friends. And I told her about me and Sanzo. . . I've been thinking a lot about Sanzo because it really bothers me when he gets hurt so bad. And Gojyo gets really scared when you get hurt bad. And I've been wondering, does that mean we love each other?"

Their arrival at the sushi shop delayed Hakkai's having to respond to Goku's questions. They placed their order, then took a booth in the farthest corner to wait while it was prepared. Hakkai had by then pulled his thoughts together and considered why this question had arisen for Goku. "Love can take many different forms, Goku, and people show it in different ways. Kanan and I did love each other very much. And we were also 'in love' with each other. Just being together made us happier than anyone or anything else could."

Goku's attention was totally focused on Hakkai, thirsty for the older man's wisdom.

"That's very different from the kind of love a mother or father feels for their child." It crossed his mind that he and Goku and Gojyo and Sanzo all had in common a lack of experience with that particular brand of love. "A teacher has, I think, a similar feeling for his pupils—a feeling of care and closeness and pride that comes from helping someone learn and grow and become who they are destined to be."

Hakkai absently folded a paper napkin from the table into a crane as he talked, then unfolded it again, becoming distant as he recalled his days teaching. As always, darkness crept into his eyes with the recollection that it was the pleasure of working late with a few exuberant students that had kept him away from Kanan when she was taken by the youkai abductors.

"Hakkai?"

The older man forced himself back to the present. "The feelings that brothers and sisters like Yanane and her siblings have," he continued, "are still another kind of love. And friends who enjoy each other's company and spend a lot of time together and look out for each other share a sort of love, too."

"But how do you know if you're just friends with someone or if you love them? Or if they love you?. . . Or if you're in love with them?

Hakkai was refolding the napkin back into a crane. Goku's eyes searched his, probing for a better grasp of the concept and feelings he was trying to define for himself.

"Do you love Gojyo, Hakkai?"

Hakkai started, thoroughly taken aback by Goku's directness. But the fleeting look of surprise and uncertainty that crossed his face was replaced so fast by one of his enigmatic smiles that Goku wasn't certain he saw anything more behind Hakkai's answer. "You said yourself, Goku, that Gojyo and I are best friends. And I told you that best friends do share a kind of love for each other. In that way, yes, Goku, I do love Gojyo. And I believe you would be right in thinking that Gojyo feels that way about me, too."

"But can't two good friends be in love with each other, too, Hakkai? The way you were with…with Kanan?"

Hakkai fiddled with the napkin crane, wishing to end this conversation. But Goku's persistent tone demanded satisfaction. "Yes, that does happen sometimes."

"Has it happened to you and Gojyo?"

Hakkai was not often stymied by his three close friends. But Goku was looking at him so intently, and his questions took him so off guard, that he could only gaze back, his green eyes impassive, the usual smile wiped from his face. If Goku had been listening for it, he would have heard Hakkai's breath catch. His voice was low and controlled.

"I don't think I can ever be in love with another person the way I was with Kanan, Goku. I don't want to ever love someone that much again. And I never want another person to love me that way." He felt again the blood of over a thousand murders wash over him. And in his mind, he saw Gojyo looking at him with blood-red eyes through the curtain of his blood-red hair, and the blood and murders might have been a canyon separating them.

Goku sensed that he had touched something in Hakkai that he had never fully seen before, and he looked at the table, wondering whether he had gone too far, but not knowing how to retreat. His hunger for love and friendship and his need to understand his own feelings for Sanzo drove him to press his friend one step further. "But what if Gojyo already loves you that way, Hakkai?"

Hakkai's thin, inscrutable smile returned to his face. "Goku, I think you have become a hopeless romantic. Gojyo and I are best friends. We certainly care a lot for each other, and we greatly enjoy each other's company. But Gojyo has too much fun with women to become attached to one person that way." And I can't afford to risk it, Hakkai thought to himself. I don't want—I don't deserve—that kind of devotion from another person, ever again.

"I think you're wrong, Hakkai," Goku protested. "Gojyo used to be like that. But he doesn't go out with women much anymore. And he worries about you even more than I worry about Sanzo. I think he cares for you more than anyone."

Hakkai wanted to deny it and set Goku right. But he knew Goku wasn't wrong.

"If you loved someone so much before, isn't it lonely not to have someone to love now? And if you never want to love anyone, won't that make Gojyo lonely too?"

Hakkai chuckled, his small, unreadable smile still in place. "How can I be lonely with him and you both looking after me? And with Sanzo keeping us all so busy!" He was relieved to see the shop owner beckon to him before he had to say more. He rose from the table and gestured for Goku to join him. "Right now I think our dinner is ready. How about if we get back to the others?"

But as he walked to the front of the diner with Goku close behind, his thoughts were not at all on dinner, but on the compassionate man who had saved his life four years before.

***TBC***