Author's note: This chapter is pretty much just to tie up loose ends and finish the rebuilding. But then again, if you're still reading, then you like my handling of the characters, not just my fabulous skills with angst. Still no yaoi, and they're still not mine. But hey, now I'm done and it's up to Atolm2000 to write Sanzo's side of this! I don't know about you all, but I'm looking forward to reading that.
When we get back to the inn, I make a beeline for the kitchen.
"Could you set those on the table for me?" I toss over my shoulder. "The meat and milk will need to be chilled. And can you bring me that wedge of cheese?" Sanzo's nervously-flickering chi beats at me as he offers me the cheese I've asked for. "Thank you." I give him a genuine smile, but he's got a hunted look on his face. "I'll just be putting the groceries away and then cooking lunch, but I can make you some tea if you'd like to try the inn's bath."
"Just tea?" His voice begs me to answer yes.
"Just tea," I repeat firmly, and am rewarded by stark relief in Sanzo's eyes. It's not surprising that in his very vulnerable state, he wouldn't want his mind clouded by anything.
He nods and hurries off, and I hunt out a teakettle. Chi heats quicker than fire; the pot of brewing tea and a cup are waiting for him by the time he finds the inn's bathing room. I stay just long enough to make sure he's found everything, then return to the kitchen. The stew will have to cook until dinnertime, but it's best to get that started first. My lunch and Sanzo's will take just a few minutes to prepare – bread and cheese, chickpea paste and some assorted vegetables. Just a light lunch, nothing fancy. While Sanzo's soaking, I get that ready and set it on the table, then start on Gojyo and Goku's lunch. Goku won't be very aware of what he's eating, so I focus on foods that will replenish his chi. Gojyo hates bedrest, however, and he's lost a lot of blood. He gets iron-rich foods that can be worked into his favorite dishes. While everything is cooking, I find a single beer and infuse it with chi that will keep Gojyo tractable and somewhat out of it. I don't want him trying to sneak out and find some entertainment, not until he's at least replaced some more fluids.
Sanzo's not out of the bath yet; I pile the two lunches on a tray and chill the beer with a quick flare of chi. The tray makes it much easier to get myself and the assorted dishes into the double-room; I bump the door shut and serve Gojyo first. He tries to sit up, but with a jaw-clenching grimace gives up and settles for the up-on-one-elbow position he used this morning, Hakuryuu chirping a little at being displaced. A few tidbits off Gojyo's plate, however, and she calms down. Goku still needs to be helped into a sitting position, but focuses more quickly on the plate in his hands. The brighter patches of chi are all centered over the fractures that riddle his skeletal structure; now that I have a fuller reserve of chi to work with, I take stock of the injuries. Youkai bones are hard and Goku generally heals quickly, but with the state his chi is in, he'll be abed a few more days yet. Almost every bone longer than the width of my palm has at least one fracture. They're not severe enough to keep him from moving, but the pain will be horrendous once he comes around enough to be aware of it. I pour him a glass of Gojyo's water and hold it to his lips; like a small child, he brings both hands up and drinks noisily. Once he's unconscious again, I snag a chair and sit by Gojyo.
We talk about nothing in particular; a few comments on the battles of yesterday, re-hashing old jokes and other such bits of small talk. He takes great swigs from the bottle of chi-doctored beer, and it's not long before he's out cold again. It takes just a few moments to collect the dishes, and when I emerge from the kitchen, Sanzo is sitting at the table looking blankly at the food set out. I sit across from him and serve myself; Sanzo seems to come back to life at that and mechanically serves himself as well. He eats falteringly – a bite here and there, and long moments of staring off into space in between. I make lighthearted, teasing comments to return his attention to food, but by the time the meal if over, I've eaten easily three-fourths of everything that had been set out. Well, at least he ate something. Sanzo wanders off while I'm clearing the dishes. I'm not worried; he can find me easily enough if he needs me.
The inn has a central courtyard accessible through the kitchen, and through doors in the hallways the rooms come off of. It's two hours past noon, and the sun fills the square with warm, golden light. There is a tiny pond, more decoration than anything else, and a bench by it. The stew is simmering on the fire – it will need to cook for a few more hours yet, but won't really need attending to. I kneel on the eastern bank of the pond so that the sun will shine into my eyes once it gets closer to dinnertime, and empty my mind. For once, my mind actually stays empty. It's not an internal struggle to push aside and smother nightmarish memories or feelings of worthlessness; I am able to simply be the moment. Sound and sensation wash over me. The sun is warm, the wind is cool, Sanzo just entered the courtyard and left again, the pond is splashing. Sun in my eyes – time to check the stew.
I've managed to time things perfectly. The stew needs just a few minutes, long enough to toast some bread over the fire and get bowls set. I serve Sanzo's portion and mine first, being careful to ladle the chunks of meat out of mine. I try to not eat meat, but I am not a perfect Buddhist – I do eat it if I need to quickly replenish my chi. In this instance, however, there is no rush to replenish my reserves and Goku needs it much more than I do. As a finishing touch, I grate a generous handful of cheese over each bowl before balancing chunks of toasted bread on the side. My dinner and Sanzo's go on the table to cool slightly; Goku's and Gojyo's go on a tray, along with another glass of chi-enhanced water for Goku and a bottle of chilled, chi-enhanced beer for Gojyo. The sedating chi I used on them earlier is wearing off when I bring dinner to them, but Goku still looks at me blankly and eats mechanically. The dark patches in his chi are much smaller, but he's still drained beyond anything I've ever seen before. I ask Gojyo if he knows anything about what Homura did, but Gojyo just shakes his head and keeps eating, feeding the occasional chunk to Hakuryuu. He didn't see anything more than I did; we were both fighting Shien and Zenon.
The beer knocks him out, and I do a quick check on both of them to make sure nothing's gotten worse. Goku's bones are mending, but he will still need extra healing if he's to be road-worthy in the next three weeks. What's left offGojyo's internal injuries are healing quickly on their own, but he has a few fractures that will need to be healed, as well. There are several cracked ribs that must be keeping him in constant pain. Well, there was a good bit of leftover stew. I reason with myself that if I consume the leftovers, that will replace the chi I'm about to use. Fingers lightly touching Gojyo's chest, I send tendrils of green energy winding down through his ribs. There, and there, and one on the other side. The green glow brightens and sinks into Gojyo's skin as I force the bones to knit. It's not complete, but it's enough to keep him from being in constant pain. My hands are trembling slightly – that's not good. I need to eat more and lay off the healing until my reserves are where they should be.
Sanzo is picking at the stew when I emerge with the dishes. I breeze past him and into the kitchen, the weight of the tray holding my arms steady. I'll wash the dishes later. My hands are still trembling. If Sanzo sees this, well, I don't want him to worry about me. Not when I seem to be the only anchor he has. Quickly, I ladle hot stew into Gojyo's bowl and pick through it, eating all the chunks of meat. The rest of the stew goes back into the pot; that will take care of the trembling. Calm as ever, I emerge from the kitchen and eat my now-cooled stew nonchalantly. Across the table from me, Sanzo has nibbled at the bread but not actually eaten any of the stew. I ask teasingly if my cooking is really that bad, and he gives me a look half-guilty and half-apologetic, but he does eat some of it. My bowl is empty; I slip back into the kitchen and fill it from the pot. There's not much left – a dozen quick bites, and the pot is empty. Sanzo is making good progress on his serving as I return to the table; we eat in silence for several minutes before he puts his spoon down.
"Thank you." He doesn't look up, and his voice is husky with tangled emotions. Before I can say anything, he stands up and leaves the room, bowl still half-full.
No point in letting it go to waste. I'm not worried about the amount he's eaten, not after the large breakfast he had. Both bowls are soon scraped clean, and I am pumping water for washing the dishes with. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Sanzo out in the courtyard, sitting on the bench pensively and watching me through the doorway. I smile in his direction and begin doing the dishes, the methodical motions almost a meditation in and of themselves. When the last one has been dried and replaced neatly in the cupboard, I turn to the darkened courtyard, but it is empty. On the way to Sanzo's room I detour to peek in on the wounded. Hakuryuu chirps reassurance at me from her perch curled up on Gojyo's chest; he and Goku are still out cold. I quickly make sure the pitcher of water is still infused with potent pain-killing chi, then stroke Hakuryuu's neck gently. She trills deep in her throat and leans into my touch, then nudges my hand away with her head and points through the wall towards Sanzo's room. One last caress, and then I take the hint that I should go to bed.
Sanzo is sitting on the bed when I slip into the room and go over to the pile of blankets I'd dragged in here last night. He glances up, a habitual look or long-suffering irritation on his face, mouth opened to tell me that if I was going to sleep on the floor, to at least bring a pillow or blanket. It's a ritual older than my name; he tells me to bring a pillow or blanket, and I sleep propped up in a corner without them anyway. This time, however, I meet his confused glare with raised eyebrows and a mild expression.
"I'm sorry," I deliberately sidestep the entire ritual by misinterpreting the expression on his face. "I know the room is a little small. I can sleep in the other room, if you prefer."
Sanzo just shakes his head, slightly bewildered at this turn of events. I smile at him, then remove my sash and eyepiece and wrap myself in blankets and close my eyes. After a few minutes, I can hear Sanzo follow suit and blow out the lamp.
That night, he cried out in his sleep again. A second time I crossed a sacred line and stood in the void left by a much greater man, offering wordless comfort as Sanzo cried tears he could not shed a decade ago. Over the next few days, I doled out healing in small doses, keeping Goku and Gojyo out of it until Sanzo no longer looked at me in mute fear of being alone, until he no longer cried out in his sleep. Within a week, all our injuries had healed and we once again set off into the west.
Sanzo once told me the theory of symbolic death. That by giving me a new name, I was being given the chance to be something else. Gonou is dead, his crimes atoned for and his sins absolved. I had been carrying his specter for three years, but now he is laid to rest. Sanzo had been carrying Kouryu for much longer than that, but I have hope that with the shedding of those tears, the River Orphan has now been laid to rest, as well.
I doubt I will ever find out why Homura wished so desperately to destroy the world and create a new one. I cannot agree with his choice, or forgive the injuries done to my friends, but I am grateful for the opportunity to give Sanzo a gift as precious as the one he gave me the day my name first passed his lips. Not as the scribes wrote it, but as he meant it.
Reform. Renewal.
Rebirth.