For warnings, disclaimers, etc., look on first chapter.

Installment Two

In Which Sanzo Reflects on What Does and Doesn't Exist

OR

The Author Has No Idea What She Is Writing and is Too Lazy to Look it Up

"Letter," Hakkai mumbled, tossing Sanzo a thin envelope over the breakfast table. Sanzo emitted something vaguely like a grunt. Gojyo had yet to work up the energy to make his way from the table to the cabinet to get a bowl of cereal.

Needless to say it was very early in the morning. The sun was only just beginning to make its way above the treetops, and below the treetops almost everyone was wondering why it didn't have the good grace to stay down for another several hours.

"So, what does the letter say?" Hakkai finally asked after his third cup of coffee, finally feeling more or less alive.

"What? Oh, haven't opened it yet," Sanzo muttered, stifling a yawn and reaching for the envelope. Unfortunately for him, it took him five cups of coffee and at least an hour to wake up. Some people just aren't made for the morning. Sanzo quickly scanned it, and then set it carelessly aside. "Get my new assignment," he muttered, standing, heading for his room to shower and change.

"What is it?" Hakkai asked a short time later, lazily flipping channels between the two news stations that were actually functioning this early.

"Huh?" Sanzo asked, the first semi-coherent statement he had made all morning.

"I asked what your new assignment was," Hakkai said, still not looking up from the television.

"Oh," Sanzo muttered, comprehending. "I haven't gotten it yet." At Hakkai's questioning glance he continued, "All orders are given out in person so as not to leave a paper trail. This just gives me the directions to the place, and even those are in code." Hakkai laughed humorlessly.

"Paranoid much?" he asked. Sanzo rolled his eyes in irritation.

"Tell me about it."

Sanzo had been living with them at the townhouse for almost two weeks now. It didn't seem like that would be a lot of time to adjust, but all three had fallen into the new schedule with an almost frightening familiarity.

"Hey, Hakkai," Gojyo said, wandering into the room after his shower. "I didn't know you had the day off today." Hakkai glanced at the clock.

"I don't. I still have a few minutes before I have to leave, though."

"Hakkai?" Gojyo asked. Hakkai looked up, a questioning look on his face. "That clock stopped three days ago. Remember you were telling me to bring it to the shop sometime?" Hakkai's face stayed blank for a moment longer before a look of dawning comprehension and horror came over it.

"I have a first period class," he muttered, and his face had 'dead meat' written all over it. He glanced down at his watch. "I might still have time to catch the later subway if I hurry," he muttered, standing. Gojyo put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Hurry schmurry, there's no way you could make that subway in three minutes. Come on, I'll drive you." Gojyo got up and grabbed his keys.

"A-are you sure?" Hakkai asked. "It's pretty far…" he murmured uncertainly, looking worriedly out the window.

"Just come on," Gojyo growled, already at the door. "Or you'll be even later." Hakkai hesitated for just a moment longer before grabbing his briefcase and following Gojyo out. The door slammed. A moment later Sanzo heard the jeep pull out of the garage.

Sanzo allowed himself an irate smile and raked a hand through his hair.

"He so needs someone to take care of him," he muttered, lighting a cigarette. Sanzo occupied himself by chain smoking for awhile, but at about ten o'clock, as that grew old, he decided he might as well track down the building he was supposed to find.

About simultaneously he realized that Gojyo had taken the car and occupied the next few moments muttering every insult he could at him. His brain eventually fell into automatic and he continued the muttering even as he wondered how he was to get to the building.

Sanzo had gotten down to 'pea-brained, perverted kappa' and was vaguely wondering where that had come from when he finally decided that the best course of action would be to walk. So, not necessarily in the best of moods, Sanzo set out on foot.

Luckily the building was fairly close, well under five miles, and after only an hour of walking (and swearing at the unintelligible directions) he found himself in front of the beat-up door. Sanzo sighed and rolled his eyes, wishing, not for the first time, that the Rosemont Squad could use some of their government funding for something useful, such as modern buildings.

Rolling his eyes, Sanzo opened the door and entered one of the barest, saddest little rooms that has ever graced the face of the earth. It was hardly bigger then a closet, no more then ten by ten, or ten by fifteen feet at a stretch. It's only furnishings were a makeshift desk constructed out of two filing cabinets and a piece of plywood, several more filing cabinets behind the desk as well as a folding chair, sitting parallel to another folding chair before the desk.

Sanzo quickly stepped into the room and shut the door as silently as he could, the murky darkness created by the lack of windows making him edgy.

A sudden movement at the far side of the room caught his attention; his pistol was up and ready in a flash.

"Whoa, hey! Sanzo, don't shoot!" The figure clicked on the lone hanging lamp, throwing the bare room into some kind of relief. Sanzo kept his gun up just a moment longer, until he had the figure identified. Then he dropped his hand, in shock as much as anything else.

"Clarence?" He asked incredulously. "I thought they said you were dead." He was silent for a moment. "You look good." (A/N: This is only funny if you say it out loud, with just the right inflection. I stole it from MIB II to give you an idea of how it's supposed to sound) Clarence tilted his head back and let out a bark of laughter.

"Thanks. You do too. Anyway, your assignment." Clarence took the seat behind the desk and motioned Sanzo to sit at the seat in front of it. He opened one of the file cabinets and began leafing through it, a disgusted look on his face. Sanzo broke the silence by asking,

"How long have you been holed up in this place?"

"Not too long," Clarence grunted back, his head not out of the cabinet. "They change the assignment room ever few weeks. Talk about paranoid, ya' know? The one before this was pretty nice, though. It was in a big office building. Coffee room right next door."

"So they just up and transferred you?" Sanzo asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Same thing happened to you," Clarence pointed out. "Doesn't sound like you had much say in the matter, either."

"I'm still on field work," Sanzo shot back. "It's different. People probably aren't going to be wondering whether I'm dead or not. More than usual, I mean." Clarence allowed himself a smile before continuing his rummaging. A common Rosemont greeting was, 'So you're not dead yet?'

"Where did I put that dmn piece of sht?" Clarence complained after flipping through the entire filing cabinet for a second time. "I swear to god, this job is going to make me run mad. Paper-shuffling," he muttered in contempt.

"Did you set it out?" Sanzo asked, unconcernedly lighting a cigarette, making no move to help his colleague out and point out where the file sat in plain sight on the desk.

"Naw, I don't think so," he muttered, scanning the room quickly. There were so few furnishings that it took him less then a second. "I suppose I should check the cabinet one last time…" at that exact moment he noticed the file sitting on his desk and trailed off, flushing in embarrassment. Salvaging what little pride he could he calmly handed the file to Sanzo.

Sanzo opened the file, wondering at its thinness. Inside was a picture of a young boy and what looked to be several pages torn out of a diary, all in the same neat hand. The final page caught his eye. It was on different paper and in different handwriting, and also appeared more recent.

"This it?" Sanzo asked, staring at the paltry bundle in front of him, one eyebrow raised. "What am I even supposed to be doing?"

"Find the kid," Clarence answered, setting up his feet and lighting up a cigarette of his own.

"Okay," Sanzo said. "Where does he live?" Clarence snorted with laughter.

"When are things ever that simple? That picture is from about ten years ago. The kid disappeared around that time. The pages are from the mom's diary, before he disappeared. We did the best we could on tracking, but the most we found recently on him was that last page, torn out of a little girl's diary. Even then it's a very long stretch, as it only describes the kid, and for all we know there could be more then one dirty orphan with 'long, chocolate brown hair,' to use her own words." Sanzo was staring at the file in front of him, his stoic mask not able to block out all of the confusion he was feeling.

Most of the assignments you got with Rosemont were fairly straight forward, consisting mainly of 'kill this person at this time and at this place using this weapon and using this escape car'. Sanzo had never even heard of Rosemont getting a missing person report, even one as elusive as this.

"What does the gov' want us to do with a missing person report?" he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Clarence gave him a quick glance, then leaned forward, as if about to divulge some great secret.

"Now technically," he began, killing his cigarette in the ash tray, "Technically, I'm not supposed to know this. But I heard that the real deal doesn't have a thing to do with the kid." Sanzo raised an eyebrow, an incredulous look on his face. Clarence waved his arm impatiently. "Well, I mean of course it does as far as you having to bring the kid in! What I mean is the kid's not really what they're after."

"So what are they after?" Sanzo asked, not beating around the bush.

"Ever heard of the Seiten Taisei?" He asked, leaning forward still further. Sanzo snorted in disbelief.

"You're shttn' me," he said. "Everyone knows that's just a myth."

"It sounds crazy, I know," Clarence murmured, lowering his voice, trying to compel Sanzo to lean in closer. Sanzo didn't take the bait, so Clarence was forced to speak at a normal volume again. "I heard some of the big dogs talking about it earlier this week. They were saying that more and more of those unexplained crimes are starting to be blamed on it. I heard that it's supposed to make the government's top ten most wanted list sometime in February." Sanzo stared at Clarence for a moment before standing up and heading toward the door. When his hand was on the door knob he turned back to face him.

"You don't really believe this sht, do you?" he asked. Clarence shook his head and was silent a moment before answering.

"Man, I don't know what to think," he finally said. "Some of those crimes are just so out there, you know? I mean, what type of human would hang someone from a light post by their intestines? That's just not human, man. I just don't know what to think…" He trailed off for a moment, staring at the floor. He suddenly looked up and a grin flashed across his face.

"Doesn't make much difference to you though, does it? You still need to bring the kid in either way." Sanzo rolled his eyes in irritation.

"They might as well try to trap Bigfoot," he muttered. Clarence laughed.

"That remains to be seen." Sanzo shook his head and stepped out the door, shutting the door decisively behind him. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and leaned against the door frame for a minute, reveling in the natural light, a welcome change after the single sickly yellow lamp of the room. He glanced around once more, making sure no one had witness his momentary lapse into weakness, and set back off the way he had come.

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