: Calling :

Gensomaden Saiyuki

Disclaimer: I do not own Saiyuki. All rights go to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: T

Warnings: Goku-centric, language, bizarreness

Notes: Thank you for the reviews thus far. Constructive criticism and feedback are still appreciated.

Chapter Three

They were being too obviously protective, and they knew it. Of the four of them, Goku was the one who least appreciated being looked after like a child. Likely, this was because he wanted to badly to be treated like an adult that anything perceived as otherwise was taken badly. So when it was casually arranged for someone to be within arm's reach of the boy at just about all times, Hakkai had not missed the flash of resentment in Goku's eyes. He actually felt terrible about it—he knew of the brunette's exasperation very well and normally tried to treat him more like an adult.

But had the situation not grown so worrisome, these measures wouldn't have been taken. Hakkai could only smile, nod, and hope Goku would understand someday. Thankfully, the boy seemed to comprehend to some degree, because he didn't verbally argue any more against certain decisions than usual.

When taking away his nighttime watch, the golden eyes had flashed dangerously, but still nothing had been said against it. After the proposal, Hakkai's gaze had been drawn toward Sanzo. The priest had caught the look, glared back, but his expression was otherwise unreadable.

This could only mean that the situation was disturbing him greatly.

Hakkai waited until he was roused from slumber in the darkest hour of the night. The moon was absent for the first time in many weeks, in a cycle that, once before, he had been able to predict with ease. Life on the road made such predictions harder to calculate, since one day seemed to bleed into another with ease. Or, alternately, a single day could drag on and seem like three had gone by at sunset.

Gojyo's expression was carefully guarded; easily seen since no clouds touched the sky, and the stars were bright.

"Your turn," he said simply.

"Gojyo." The whisper caught the man's attention, though it didn't appear that way. Gojyo was half turned away from him, thumbing the lighter as the flint clicked faintly. "What were you and Goku really doing?"

From the quality of the silence that followed, Hakkai knew it was unnecessary for him to clarify. A quick glance at their sleeping companions' silhouettes decided him. He pushed his blanket down to his knees before standing, walking a couple yards from the designated sleeping area. Gojyo followed suit without question.

"Craziest shit I've seen in a long time," Gojyo finally said while flicking ashes from the end of his cigarette. Hakkai dimly noted the slight move of the wrist that allowed the action; subtle but effective. It was almost unlike Gojyo. "He was just... staring. And had the weirdest look on his face."

When he didn't go on, Hakkai said nothing to prod him onward. Had it been anyone else, he would have, but it was unnecessary with Gojyo. The man would continue when he was good and ready; there were few barriers between the two, and so the extra urging would have been wasted.

"Then he just ran. Right to the damn thing, like he was ready to leap in."

The river, Hakkai knew without having to ask. He nodded.

Gojyo paused to take a drag, and did not speak again until he had emptied the excess smoke from his lungs. "So I tackled him. Brat gave a look like he'd just woken up..." His voice trailed off, not in remembrance; something closer to muffled astonishment. And Hakkai knew why.

"Like he was in a trance, perhaps," he said softly. "Or—"

"Dreaming," Gojyo finished for him.

Contemplative silence settled about them, shrouding the two in a thick, invisible cloak. Nothing more was to be said, yet everything was conversed in wordless conversation. Eye contact wasn't even required; merely simple understanding—the bond that had long ago formed and was still growing in its complexities between them.

When the smell of nicotine died and Gojyo stood to retire, Hakkai murmured, "Pleasant dreams."

The man hesitated where he stood. Then, in a tone that was wry and solemn at the same time, Gojyo replied.

"I think I'll pass on that tonight."

-

Suffocating. He couldn't breathe because his throat was obstructed with something yet nothing at the same time; only air passed through, but it was not making it to his lungs all the same. Of course, his first reaction was to scream, but he couldn't inhale to do that, nor exhale to force the sound out. He was trapped, left clawing at the air, at the ground, getting dirt under his fingernails. He continued to tear at the soil, as though digging his own grave.

Throughout it all he heard shouting—Gojyo. He also heard worried cries—Hakkai. But loudest and most frightening of all was the silence—Sanzo. His savior made no sound to show he was concerned; didn't even give him the relief of looking him in the eye. His bangs obscured his face, throwing soft but demonic shadows over his features.

Goku woke breathless, drenched in a cold sweat, and acutely aware of cold eyes staring down at him.

-

Moving to help was completely out-of-character for him. In fact, he had barely even twitched at first. Sanzo didn't know what to think; he had tried to stop thinking ever since the scene at the ravine. At the very least, he didn't want to think about what had happened—to remember, to fully grasp a situation that was still entirely alien to him.

Just days ago, if anyone had asked him who amongst the traveling entourage would be most likely to attempt suicide, Sanzo would have flat-out said anyone but Goku. Or rather, he would have told them off, to mind their own business, but inwardly that was the answer he would have acknowledged. While at times it was annoying, Goku's exuberance and love of life was obvious—and, on rare occasions, contagious. Many a time, Sanzo had caught himself reveling in a simple pleasure, something he had never done in the time period between his master's passing and discovering the wild animal at the top of Mount Gogyo. Never would he admit to these instances, but he still reluctantly acknowledged them.

Seeing Goku leap straight off had struck terror in him in a way Sanzo had not realized was possible. In his mind's eye, he could still see the image: the lanky, outstretched arms attempting to be makeshift wings, the mussed hair flying wildly for an instance before the plummet; he could even hear the faint rustle of cloth caught in a rough wind. Had the act been committed by anyone else, it may have been considered frighteningly symbolic. It may have seemed to be a hidden message, something underlying the persona that had never had a chance to shine forth until that deadly moment.

Coming from Goku, however... it was simply baffling. There was no underlying hint; nothing that had ever caught Sanzo's attention and made him quietly think, If you press hard enough, he'd kill himself.

Goku was the only person he had ever lacked that thought about. And he hated the brat for it. He hated him for it because it unsettled his view on people in general.

When the first glimmer of twilight had shown in the horizon, Sanzo had heard an audible hitch of breath. The quality had been different from someone shifting in their sleep; frightened, in a way. Without looking, Sanzo had known who it was, and had done nothing but draw his first cigarette of the day.

When the sound wasn't repeated, and when no other noise was made aside from a faint scratching, Sanzo had given in and looked. At first he had been skeptical and had to move closer. No way was Goku's face really just beginning to turn blue; it had to be a trick of the morning light. Even then he had known he was lying to himself—and the lack of movement from the boy's chest had been enough to decide him. Wordlessly, he had grasped Goku's shoulder and given him a violent shake.

Now his charge stared up at him, the terror in his eyes bleeding out into something akin to bleakness. Sanzo couldn't quite place why or how, or even exactly what. All he knew was that something had died in Goku in less than an instant.

Sanzo let go of his shoulder. He expected the boy to say something, if only to ask why, but his expectations were not met. The boy just closed his eyes, ran a dirt-smudged hand through his hair, and let out a heavy sigh. Acceptance, thought Sanzo. Of what, he didn't know, but that was what Goku's actions signified.

He moved back to his original spot. Any other day he would have ordered his charge to stay awake, to tell him they would be moving on anyway, but this time he did no such thing. In return, Goku did nothing; didn't even remove the hand from his hair, keeping his arm at such an angle that his expression was barely unreadable. The slight tremors shaking the boy's arm were impossible to miss, yet Sanzo pretended he had.

When dawn came, Goku still hadn't said a word. And once again, Sanzo hated him for it.

-

"I have something of a theory."

The words were nothing of surprise, in and of themselves. Hakkai was prone to thinking long and hard and often came up with a solution before anyone else. What really startled Gojyo was that the man had discovered something so quickly. He himself was still attempting to adjust to the situation, to grasp it fully. He was coping far better than Sanzo, at least—better than Goku, even, who didn't seem to understand his own actions. That had only succeeded in frustrating Gojyo further.

Rather than admit to his ignorance, Gojyo said lightly, "Do you now?"

"Somewhat," Hakkai agreed, not once looking up. With the river nearby, nobody had wanted Goku to take on the task of washing clothes—even his own. More than likely, the boy was growing rapidly furious at being babied, but until they figured something out, nobody was – or at least, Gojyo wasn't – willing to let Goku go off on his own. Even with the others around, he wasn't entirely safe, as had been proven in the most recent incident. Still, it was better than nothing.

Gojyo had only gone with Hakkai because he had sensed the man wanted to speak to him of something that couldn't be said in front of their object of concern. That and he was admittedly sick of Sanzo's silence. It was worse than being yelled at and beaten with the infernal paper fan.

"Care to share it with me?"

"Certainly." At first Hakkai said nothing, simply shaking cold water from someone's nightshirt before delicately wringing it. Gojyo tried not to fidget, though it was difficult. If it had been anyone but Hakkai, he would have snapped, but he was slowly learning his lesson. Perhaps five years down the road was rather late, but one eventually learned when and when not to push the man. Gojyo acknowledged he was better than most in that respect, but he also knew Hakkai didn't have as much patience with him as most other people.

That was, surprisingly, actually a good thing. Gojyo thought it might have had significance, perhaps in saying Hakkai wasn't quite as patient with him because he expected more of him... but he wasn't sure, and the issue was never talked about. Everything was left as-is—and it worked out famously.

At last, Hakkai spoke. "I don't believe Goku's actions are entirely his own."

The comment didn't surprise Gojyo was much as it should have. Instead, he just nodded in agreement. He could see where the conclusion came from—if nothing else, at least the hint was in the glazed expression Goku had possessed before both the river and ravine incidents.

However, just because he agreed didn't mean he understood how. "Then whose?"

"I don't know," Hakkai admitted. The confession was almost forced; he clearly hated to let others know when he was utterly powerless. "I wish I did."

When the man moved to wring out yet another article of clothing, Gojyo stopped him by snatching it from his hands. He was met with a reproachful look, but he spoke hurriedly before Hakkai could get a word in edgewise. "Let's leave some wet and cold. Smack the monkey a few times, and maybe he'll be too cold and miserable to have stupid thoughts."

For a moment, he thought his attempt to lighten the mood wasn't going to work. Then, slowly, an almost-genuine smile touched Hakkai's mouth. Without words, he expressed his gratitude. For some reason it reminded Gojyo of the month they had spent together, before he had learned of the man's true – and still unfitting – name.

"Well then, Gojyo, I will leave the task to you," said Hakkai, his tone playfully cordial.

Smirking, the man replied, "And I will carry out said task with the utmost pleasure."

Shaking his head, Hakkai let out a soft, very real chuckle. If only for that second in time, the tension had been alleviated.

-

This time it was not a dream. The strangling sensation felt very real, and no one was there to wake him up. At least, someone was there—he was just choosing to ignore the boy for the time being. And that only made the need for air worse.

He had to escape.

The problem was, Goku knew the instant he chose to move, he was going to be in even more trouble. He would only be ignored so long as he was still and quiet—and he was both, though not exactly quiet of his own volition. His lungs ached. Despite being out in the open, only yards away from the outskirts of the forest, there wasn't enough oxygen. His body was wracked with chills that made his teeth chatter; not loudly, just enough to be noticeable.

He didn't want to be noticed. For the first time in his life, Goku wanted nothing more than to be completely, totally, and utterly alone.

Perhaps, he thought, now was his chance. Looking up, Sanzo appeared to be completely absorbed in his paper—the damned newspaper, the one which, at times, Goku wanted nothing more than to rip to shreds. He only held back because of the end results, which would be Sanzo smacking him until his head throbbed.

Hakuryuu, currently in his vehicle form, was the only other being present.

Staggering, though desperately trying not to, Goku experimentally took a step away from the campsite. Then another. And another.

Sanzo did nothing.

In a burst of anger and panic, Goku bolted. He heard the jeep squeal; alerting others to his escape. But that didn't matter; he wasn't headed in the direction Hakkai and Gojyo had gone off to, and Sanzo had no hopes of matching his speed. Not for the first time, he was immensely grateful for his well-earned power. The fastest of the group, the strongest... for once, it seemed, he had the advantage.

Goku didn't know where he was running to, only that he was going, and that the further away from the others he was, the easier it became to breathe. Now his legs were beginning to burn, his chest heaving, but this time for natural reasons. Nothing was trying to kill him from within anymore. Running was his escape.

Without a care for where he was going, he blindly plowed on.

-

Goku did not understand why he felt so drawn to this area. Dimly, he knew someone was going to berate him for wandering off, especially after the recent weird events. He was also somewhat aware that what he was doing was dangerous, but the closer he drew to his destination, the less important that seemed. Perhaps he really was stupid; lacking of any common sense. But he couldn't sense any danger.

No, what he sensed was a dully aching loneliness. The presence calling him was needful; pleading. He should have just turned back and ignored it, as his master had always taught him to. Really, he should have before, when the same presence had called to him at the river, and from the ravine... even if, until now, he hadn't known he was being called. But when the begging was so desperate, and even gave him the feeling that this was right...

He finally stopped in the midst of a small clearing. The woods were thick, heavy with the scent of pine needles and damp earth. Blinking, he surveyed his surroundings. The moss clinging to the bark of the trees seemed homey, in a way. As though this was where he belonged; as though this place was more of his home than the temple in Chang'an had ever been.

One tree amongst all the others stood out. The bark seemed smoother, its trunk wider. Gnarled roots protruded from the ground before burrowing deep below, the base sloping toward the heavens. Grooves accented its outer skin, gentle as lapping ocean waves. The branches were pale and thick, tapering off to points hidden by the star-shaped leaves. A maple tree, he thought, though how he knew this, Goku wasn't sure.

But such a thing was of no importance. All that mattered was that he was finally where he needed to be.

Goku felt soothed. This would be a wonderful place to lie down and rest for a while. Beneath this tree was a large patch of fresh grass that smelled as if no one had ever set foot on it before. It was a very inviting bed, even more so than any of the mattresses he had ever stretched out across.

Here.

Goku reached out, tracing his fingers over the tree's bark. Smooth even to the touch, as he had thought. The knowledge brought a smile to his face. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The grass beneath him, the essence of the tree, the pine needles surrounding him, the undisturbed soil... it was all pure, all fresh and new and untouched.

And it could all be his.

-

Goku's sudden disappearance was disconcerting. All had agreed it would be best to split up and search. Not even Sanzo had opposed to the idea; not surprising, considering how his charge had brushed possible death several times in the past few days.

Hakkai was especially worried. They'd had no choice but to stop in the forest; it had been either that or continue on foot in the torrent of rain. Against his better judgment, he had agreed to stop and find provisions for the night.

As soon as Goku had left, the looming rain clouds had all but vanished. That had confirmed they were in a worst-case scenario.

Calling for the boy had accomplished nothing. Hakkai was rapidly becoming more frustrated with himself. More importantly, he was concerned for Goku's safety. Hopefully there would be no body of water near him, or a ravine, or anything else he could easily fall into or over and kill himself. Hakkai had no reason to believe Goku was suicidal; he showed no signs of it. And of all people, Hakkai grimly acknowledged that he was the most likely to understand the signals. Something else was happening; something beyond their current understanding.

When he finally stumbled across the boy, it was worse than he had earlier thought. Upon first glance, the scene was innocuous; a peaceful-seeming forest, devoid of animal life and filled with streams of sunshine gleaming through the branches overhead.

But that didn't make what was happening to Goku any less strange or terrifying. The youth had his eyes closed, his head tilted back slightly as though he were enjoying the shade. His hand was pressed to the trunk of the tree—or at least, that was how it appeared. Hakkai was unable to tell, since it was impossible to say where the tree began and Goku ended.

Even as he stared in disbelief, bark was creeping along Goku's flesh. It seemed to melt into him, molding itself to match his shape, and then molding that into an indistinguishable lump of wood. The bark had already reached the boy's elbow. Looking down, even Goku's feet were unsafe. Roots drilled their way into the air, slowly wrapping around the teen's ankles in almost seductive possession.

When Hakkai finally found his voice again, he tried to shout a warning. With it came another voice; deeper, rougher, and with an unusual tone of panic.

"Goku!"

Sanzo had found them.