DISCLAIMER: Saiyuki and its characters are property of Kazuya Minekura and the respective distributing companies, and I do not intend to make money with her work.

WARNINGS: Angst, Character Death.

SPECIAL THANKS to Zelgadis55, who has betaed this chapter.

Author's notes can be found at the bottom.

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VOID

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CHAPTER 2

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He was relieved when his visitors had finally left – not that he knew why they kept visiting him in the first place.

Long, pale fingers clamped down on his temples, as if they could somehow reach inside and take the pain away, the pain which was a constant reminder that he had not only lost his charge and comrade-in-arms, but a part of himself.

Goku's presence had been with him ever since he could remember. Sure, it had grated on his nerves quite often, but it had also been a calming influence when he needed it to be, had soothed his nerves when he was about to do something he would certainly regret later.

And now it was gone, and with it the relative equilibrium he had been able to maintain on the journey. Yes, he had thought of Koumyou Sanzo once in a while, and he had unleashed a lot of the anger he harbored on the countless youkai trying to attack them... but he had also experienced placid, even happy moments. Now, with two deaths on his conscience and the emptiness clawing at his sanity, it was unlikely that he would ever be able to feel happiness again.

All that was left was anger – anger that was mostly directed at himself for not being able to protect somebody he had cared about yet again. But a considerable part of his resentment was also directed at the citizens of Tougenkyou, all those small, insignificant people who were celebrating that the threat of Gyuumaou and all the youkai losing their composure had been stopped, yet apparently did not give a damn about the sacrifices their saviors had had to make on their long journey. It was disgusting. If it were in his power to sacrifice them in order to return Goku to life, he would do it. Gladly.

No.

They had a right to be content. Fulfilling this task had been all about them being able to live peacefully once again. The four travellers had known from the outset that not all of them might return from their journey alive.

And yet...

Those people had not even known him, who had been imprisoned in a cave on a mountain for 500 years, to experience the joys of life for a less than a decade before death claimed him. He, who by simply enjoying life had brightened Sanzo's own, lifted it up from the dull everyday routine at the temple. When Goku still had been with him, he would have rather bitten his tongue off and swallowed it before admitting that fact, even to himself. Now, only the ashen taste of regret was left.

Unbidden, the memories welled up to the surface of his mind again, recalling the day two years ago when it had happened...

After a journey filled with hardships and battle, they finally arrived at Houtou Castle. Not a minute too early, it seemed – when they finally fought their way through to the large hall sheltering the steel colossus which contained the sealed body of Gyuumaou, they found out that, somehow, someway, their enemies had found a way to commence with the revival experiment without using the Maten sutra. It did not really matter how they had managed – what was important was that the procedure had already begun. The youkai king was about to awaken to a world he had been kept from for half a millennium.

Red filaments of light licked over the machine, infusing it with the necessary energy to break the seal of the Gods. Once in a while a flare of energy struck the floor of the hall, burning anything that was unlucky enough to occupy that spot. The woman who had introduced herself as Gyokumen Koushu stood at the controls of the mechanism, close, but still too far away to reach her in time to stop her from doing anything, and her high-pitched laughter filled their ears.

Kougaiji, Yaone and Dokugakuji stood on the opposite side of the room; their eyes were strangely empty... brainwashing, most likely. Why else would they attack, when Lirin, surrounded by four of the Holy Scriptures and a strange-looking crystal that apparently somehow replaced the fifth, hung suspended in mid-air, unconscious, being abused as a battery to fuel the revival?

This time, they would fight to the death. There would be no retreat, no quarter, no second prize. Either, the experiment would be stopped, or they would die in this very room.

Goku, Gojyo and Hakkai had taken to fighting their regular opposites, while the monk was trying to get to the controls without getting incinerated. If he managed to stop the machine, there would be no second try – the person responsible for the setup, a man who had called himself Nii Jenyi although Sanzo had known him under a different name long ago, had been killed by him on their way to this room.

He pointed the shoureijuu at Gyokumen.

"Shut it off, or you die."

The youkai woman just grinned at him, reached out for one of the levers on the control panel...

... and pushed it all the way up, so hard that it broke off. A look of triumph shone on her face as she mockingly waved with the piece she still held in her clawed hand.

The red light glowed brighter, and Sanzo had to dodge a whole barrage of hot energy shooting towards him. He threw himself to the right and fired. Gyokumen Koushu fell backwards, a bloody hole gaping in her forehead.

There was no time to be lost – the steel sarcophagus began to shake with a force that came from the inside. Gyuumaou was awakening.

After what seemed like a lifetime, Sanzo finally made it up to the controls and had to discover that the mechanism could not be turned off from here anymore – the broken lever had controlled the energy flow, and it was impossible to move it. However, maybe he was close enough...

He began reciting the words to activate the Maten sutra. Hopefully, it was not too late.

"Makai Tenjo!"

The Holy Scripture extended, wrapped around the upper part of the steel colossus – and was reflected by the energy flaring around it.

"Shit..."

He gritted his teeth, studying the controls again... there had to be some sort of emergency shutdown on this thing!

Suddenly, he heard his name called, and a body collided with his, knocking him off the platform. He looked up and saw Goku being hit by a devastating beam of red energy, his body writhing in the crackling energy, his hair and clothes catching fire, emitting a cry of pain and defeat before he was catapulted back, hitting the wall and sliding down, eyes open but unseeing...

... and the connection that had been there ever since he could remember, the band tying him and the boy together, snapped.

A fury that he had never before experienced rose within him – there was no room in his sight for the unconscious Kougaiji sprawled on the floor, for Dokugakuji and Yaone still fighting Gojyo and Hakkai. He did not hear his comrades shouting Goku's name, the whine of energy increasing in volume. All he saw was the body lying close by, all he heard was the endless silence of the void within him...

Without registering what he was doing, he chanted the words to send the sutra out again, his tongue creating syllables filled with pure malice.

Even before he cried out the final words, the Maten sutra began to glow in a blinding white, fueled by the overwhelming anger that engulfed him. He never noticed; his vision was tainted by a red haze.

"MAKAI... TENJO!!!"

With a flash, the ends of the scripture shot towards the machine again. The red energy surrounding it did not manage to deflect it this time; the sutra bored its way through the protecting cocoon, and cracks began to appear in the giant apparatus. The ground trembled violently, the floor began to break and open into wide chasms – and the steel colossus began to slowly collapse into itself.

Shortly after that, the world went white.

He had come to a few days later, lying in a bed in a shabby inn, bandaged from head to toe. Hakkai and Gojyo were there, severely injured as well, but not as incapacitated as he was. And Goku was gone.

He had learned from Hakkai that Kanzeon Bosatsu had intervened before the castle collapsed around them, transporting them outside. After the healer and Gojyo had insisted that the body of the boy be taken care of, she had agreed to bring it back to Chang'an for a proper burial and had left shortly afterwards.

The journey back had not taken them nearly as long as the way to Tenjiku, since there had been no more youkai attacks or ambushes. He had decided to travel in clothes that would not give away his rank so he would not be troubled by insignificant people wanting him to do something for them.

The days had flown by. Nobody had spoken much. Food and sleep had been no luxury anymore, but a despised necessity. He had tried to banish the loss of Goku from his mind, but had found that it was impossible to deny the silence where before there had been aggravating noise. He had tried to mourn for his charge, but had found that his soul was all but empty and stubbornly refused to heal to this day.

Hakkai and Gojyo did not blame him for Goku's death, even though it had been caused by his recklessness. They insisted that, in fact, his sacrifice might have been necessary for them to succeed. Had Sanzo's fury not fueled the power of the scripture in his second attack of the apparatus, they might well all be dead by now, and Gyuumaou would have roamed Tougenkyou once again. Fate, they had called it – as if that excused everything.

He should have been able to channel his energy into the sutra without having to see the boy die. He should have been able to do something – anything – to deactivate the machine before Goku had had to save his life because he had not paid attention to his surroundings. There had been a different way to defuse the situation, there must have been, but he had been too blind to see it.

He knew that sometimes, the boy had referred to him as "his sun". What good was a sun without a planet to shine its rays upon?

For the first time in his life, Genjo Sanzo desperately wished he were capable of relieving his pain by crying for that which he had lost. But his own barriers, which had always served to wall up the feelings inside of him, prevented the tears from falling. He did not deserve salvation.

His fingers extinguished the burnt-down stub of his cigarette by crushing it in the pile already filling up the ashtray, and he turned back towards the window. A man, hollow inside, with no hopes of ever feeling whole again.

The last Sanzo priest of the mortal realms. And his task was finished.

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Ooofff... it has taken me quite a bit of work to write this chapter without letting it fall into the "so angsty, it is cheesy"-trap – or at least I hope I managed to keep it out of there for the most part. Comments, whether they be praise or constructive criticism, are appreciated.

My thanks to those of you who have reviewed the story!