: Calling :

Gensomaden Saiyuki

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

Rating: T

Warnings: Goku-centric, strong language, some blood, angst

Notes: Final chapter. Thank you for all the constructive commentary thus far, especially with that last chapter.

Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated.

Chapter Five

Six hours. He'd spent six hours cramped uncomfortably in the backseat, his legs and arm falling asleep due to the weight pressing down on them. Six hours of enduring complete and utter silence.

Gojyo had thought he would go insane.

He wasn't sure he liked the situation much better now. The quiet was there again, but this time reeling with unspoken words. Anger, confusion, and fear coiled in the air, almost visible. Most of it seemed centered around one person.

Given the strange twists and turns this escapade had taken, Gojyo was surprised it wasn't around Sanzo. Rather, the sheer absence of emotion was what seemed out of place. Blank, yet somehow angry. Disgusted in his apathy.

Goku seemed to have sensed it as well, because he wouldn't look his master in the eye. Nor anywhere else, for that matter; his gaze was diverted, fixated on the clenched hands on his lap. Beads of sweat dampened his temples, slipping one by one down the sharp angle of his cheek. The sight was disturbing, as the sweat reminded Gojyo of the frightened and agonized tears the boy had shed just days before.

Gojyo still felt the kink in his back. He stretched to work it out, and that movement broke the deceiving calm.

"We're almost a week behind schedule," Sanzo stated. His voice was as flat as the emotion on his face. Goku said nothing. "A whole week," the man repeated, only the narrowing of his eyes giving any evidence as to how he felt.

"I heard you the first time," Goku muttered. Almost inaudibly.

"Good. I don't want to repeat myself," Sanzo said. The tautness in his hands seemed to agree with him; as though he'd rather beat it into Goku than sit there calmly, talking. Suddenly, Gojyo was glad Hakkai had suggested this. As much as he wanted to strangle Goku for throwing them all into such chaos, he had also come to terms with the fact it wasn't entirely the kid's fault.

Golden eyes flickered his way, seeking help. Gojyo shook his head. He didn't dare speak; not yet.

Reluctantly, Goku looked back down at his lap.

"All I want to know," Sanzo said, his voice too even, "is what the hell you were thinking."

Goku clutched at his thighs through the material of his pajama shorts. His knuckles pressed against his skin until there was nothing but white, the muscles on his arms contracting briefly. Through his teeth, he said, "It wasn't my fault."

"I already got that," Sanzo said impatiently. He appeared unable to sit still any longer, and stood. He began pacing before realizing what he was doing. Scowling, likely in self-disgust, he instead moved toward the window and sought his pack of cigarettes. Gojyo's fingers twitched in longing for nicotine as well, but he folded his arms to hide it.

Goku sounded miserably frustrated. "Then what d'you want me to say?"

"I'm trying to figure out," Sanzo snarled, clearly unable to find his pack. "Why you didn't think."

When the boy looked about ready to explode, Hakkai cut in. Gently, he said, "Goku, listen. While you were unconscious, we were simply talking, and we had a hard time understanding why you would give in to this."

"They didn't get it," Gojyo said abruptly, earning two startled looks and a scowl. "I understand it just fine."

His simple admission was like a tranquilizer. The trembling in Goku's body faded, and he almost slumped in his chair with relief. It was all right, they knew, and Gojyo realized that for the first time, they were utterly connected. For once, Goku could almost empathize with Gojyo's own past.

Different situations, similar entities and emotions behind it. Yeah, Gojyo understood all right. And he also understood what sort of torment the boy was going through at the moment.

"Fine," Sanzo finally said. "He understands. Hakkai and I know the reasons, but we don't empathize." He shot Gojyo a dark look. "Satisfied?"

"Immensely," Gojyo muttered.

Ignoring both of them, Hakkai said, "Compared to the rest of us, you're rather strong—"

"Well, yeah," Goku interrupted, eyes widening. "I always beat you guys when we kill demons. An' we all know I saved their—"

"Mentally and emotionally," Hakkai said hastily, as though sensing an unwanted fight. Gojyo silently commended him, though now he really wanted to know if Goku had seriously been about to say he'd saved them – well, him and Sanzo – on more than one occasion. Not that he would have put it that way...

Now Goku was more confused than surprised. "What?"

The three older men exchanged glances; Hakkai looking somewhat helpless, Sanzo annoyed, and Gojyo knew his expression told he was caught somewhere in between. Damn it. He was beginning to rethink the idea that talking was a good concept at the moment.

"Hey," Gojyo said suddenly. "Why'd you listen to her?" When Goku seemed only more baffled, he went on bluntly. "You did whatever damn thing she told you to do, right? You tell me why."

Goku winced. "You know," he said, almost pleadingly. Gojyo knew the feeling; he didn't want to recount his emotions. When he had tried before, they had come out as words, but nothing that formed a sensible thought.

And he did know, but he also wanted to hear it from the boy's own mouth. That itself was sheer selfishness. He felt insanely close to empathy, something similar yet very different than what he had achieved with Hakkai so many years ago, and if he could just touch upon it...

"Forget that," Sanzo said coldly, stepping away from the window. Goku shrank back a little, but finally managed to look toward his master. Not quite at his face, but it was a better achievement than thus far. "I want to know when the hell you stopped living for yourself."

Goku froze entirely.

"Muichimotsu," Sanzo reminded him, mercilessly icy. " 'Hold Nothing.' It's not my place to teach it to you, but somehow I had the mistaken idea that you already abided by it."

In a strangely soft voice, Goku whispered as though in prayer, "From the day I was born until the day I die..."

Gojyo remembered this. Hakkai did, also, and Sanzo was watching his charge expectantly. The words that had, in a way, motivated them to take on the journey westward.

Swallowing, Goku finished in a clearer voice, "The only side I'm on is mine."

Not quite Sanzo's law of life, they knew, but damned close. Taking sides with anyone but yourself would cloud your judgment—all four knew this intimately. That was why 'Hold Nothing' had struck Gojyo as such a profound way of life. Hard to believe, really, that the teaching came from a damned religion.

Almost as though his own words had been a spell, Goku's expression cleared. Or rather, the confusion did; he seemed somewhat dazed and thoughtful.

Normally what the boy said next would have made Gojyo worry. Yet for once, he felt an immense wave of relief.

"I think," Goku mumbled, "I have an idea."

-

They were going back to the very last place Sanzo wanted to be. At the moment, anyway; he was sure he could think of several other locations that could make his stomach churn in disgust. But for now, all he cared to worry about was that area in the forest—that damnably peaceful patch of clear ground, with the sloping roots and endlessly stretching branches that had, just days ago, been half-melted into Goku's flesh.

The memory made his skin crawl. But he kept his mouth shut. Goku wasn't a kid anymore.

In all reality, he was relieved to know this. Ever since he had taken the brat in, Sanzo had watched him, criticizing and calculating his every childish move. Not once in over five years had he ever felt the need to protect his charge. That was the whole point—Sanzo didn't want to protect him. He'd never wanted something that would be such a burden, ever, not for the past ten years.

Why, then, did it irritate him to see the boy sitting so quietly in the backseat? Why did seeing that solemn, thoughtful expression on his face make Sanzo want to smack it off? He realized he hadn't used the paper fan on Goku in weeks. Now, suddenly, his fingers twitched for it.

Maybe, just maybe, that little voice in the darkest corner of his mind was right. Perhaps that nagging whisper had a point.

While Sanzo didn't want to protect him, that didn't mean he wanted Goku to change.

For the first time he could remember, Sanzo gave the boy a sound smack for no logical reason whatsoever.

-

Goku was still nursing the fresh welt on his head when the jeep pulled to a stop. He had no idea what he had done to deserve it, and Sanzo hadn't said a word or even budged since. Even worse, Gojyo had actually snickered. At least Hakkai had tried to suppress his smile, if the twitching in his lips had been any indicator.

Though, in a way, that uncalled for strike had done something to calm him. Being hit with the paper fan was a routine he had become used to, however much he hated it. It was almost like a lifeline; a flicker of sanity in his unbalanced world.

He could always count on Sanzo for that.

The familiarity of the touch made him reluctant to get out of the vehicle. Goku began to stand, and then hesitated. He was risking his life being here—coming back to talk to his Mother. Normally he wasn't afraid to do so, but this case was different. Here, he wasn't battling a challenging opponent: he was up against the force that had given him birth, the entity which seemed more than capable of stopping his breath on a whim. Though She hadn't so far, Goku had not lived with Sanzo for so long without learning some caution.

A sudden nudge in the back of his knee made him start. Before he had the chance to turn and retaliate with a kick, Gojyo's quiet voice reached his ears.

"Hurry up, monkey. We're not going anywhere."

It was more comforting than Goku would have thought. His hesitancy banished, he leapt from the jeep and strode toward the tree. Just as he remembered it—tall and thick, though this time he recognized the power thrumming from the bark as though alive, ready to devour. Goku's reaction to the power was much like when an average person gazed at the night sky—realizing how small he was, how insignificant in the width of the universe. In the greater picture, the greatest picture of them all, even he was nothing but a thread in the tapestry.

When he was within a yard of the tree, branches began to shake. This was not fear, he knew, but a combination of hurt and anger. The branches began to lash out at the air, some narrowly missing the boy, others striking at the sky like wooden lightning. Goku flinched, taking a step back. When he realized what he was doing, he halted.

"Mother, stop it."

He hated that his voice trembled; hated how weak and pathetic he sounded. At the same time, he felt the familiar yet still-strange sensation of empathy—a sudden burst of emotions; all, he knew, what his Mother was feeling. Goku's chest ached. He wanted to cave in. He wanted to embrace his Mother and give her everything she desired of him.

But he remembered Muichimotsu and stood his ground.

His decision only seemed to infuriate Her further. With a desolate howl of wind, the branches thrashed as though in agony. The tips of three struck Goku; once on his shoulder, twice to his face. One hit his coronet, and for a split second he wildly believed She had shattered it. When nothing happened – no explosion of pain from within, no strange flashes of familiar yet alien faces flashed behind his eyes – Goku cautiously touched his bleeding cheek. Three fingers came away with smears of blood.

He had sustained worse. Compared to his body being impaled by beads, this was nothing. He braced himself against the attack.

He was proud when, this time, his voice came out fierce and demanding. "Cut it out already!" Strong, like his companions. "That hurts and you know it!" Like Sanzo.

The ferocity of the storm didn't die, but the wind did settle. Without thinking, Goku glanced over his shoulder. After scrutiny, he was satisfied that the jeep hadn't blown away—or more importantly, abandoned him. Three pairs of eyes returned his gaze; one patient and quietly anxious, another irritated, and a final reassuring. Goku had to look twice to make sure the final was truly Gojyo.

Anger was already welling again. Goku immediately diverted his eyes, returning his attention to Her. He had to settle this for good.

Or at the very least, buy himself time. Prolong the inevitable.

He stepped closer; speaking in what he hoped was a normal tone. "Why're you doing this?" A branch lashed out in response, aiming for his eyes—but he caught it. The force rendered his palm raw, but he held on.

"Just listen to me!" Too late he realized he sounded as though he were throwing a tantrum, but he was unstoppable now.

Even so, he had the sense to lower his voice. Only She could hear him now. "Mother, please..." He trailed off, uncertain, but felt the pause in her wrath. For the moment, it was safe to speak—she was curious. "Please," he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Perhaps manners would help him. "I... I can't go back to you yet." It hurt to speak like this, to talk as though one day he could.

But...

"We're on a mission. I know it looks like I'm always messin' around with Gojyo and stuff, but we are. We gotta do this, Mother, 'cause..." Goku inhaled deeply, his nerves rattled. "Because if we don't, the people we're gonna beat up, they're gonna... they're gonna do this thing. It's just a huge monster, and if we don't stop them, they'll hurt you." He faltered; this was a subject he didn't care to think about. He was happier without contemplating the future, living only for the day he was in. But now he had to, in order to explain.

"They'll hurt you," he repeated, his voice almost inaudible to even his ears. But he knew She heard. "And everything and everyone living on you. Not everyone's bad, Mother. Hakkai's real nice," he poured out in a rush, his breath coming in even faster. She was tensing, but he refused to let Her interrupt. "Gojyo's a jerk, but he's better'n you think, and Sanzo... he's Sanzo. He's really not bad. We're not bad, Mother."

Skepticism. She wasn't thoroughly convinced, but he could sense Her trust strengthening, even as Her doubt wavered. Though She had terrified him before, injured him, put him through agony he hadn't imagined possible—Goku still felt a warm rush of gratitude.

Muichimotsu. He remembered and tried to shake the feeling, but was unsuccessful.

Swallowing audibly, he said, "After that. I swear, after we... after..." Saying it aloud ached to even contemplate, so he forced himself to resort to silent words. After that, I'll come back if you want me to. I won't leave you alone forever, Mother.

She didn't respond instantly, but nor did She feel cold to him. She, too, had to ponder.

At last, the branch in Goku's grasp went limp, and then stiff—back to the branch it had been before She had taken control of it. Solid wood. Absent of Her presence.

Goku had won Her consent.

He couldn't feel happy about it.

-

It was difficult to describe exactly what changed. The air shifted, molecules seemed to rearrange themselves, the atmosphere just lifted; the scenery all but went back to the way it had been, even though it looked almost exactly the same.

In a rare moment like this, Hakkai condemned his chi-sensing abilities. There were times those abilities interfered with his natural senses.

He did not, however, condemn his perception. When Goku finally turned back to them, waving and grinning, Hakkai knew it was off. He was the master of masks—he knew a fake from a real smile. Goku always wore a genuine smile. Not now. It was hollow and lifeless, even if his eyes grinned with his lips, and he bragged proudly of how he convinced the entity he called "Mother" to leave him alone.

Even if Hakkai hadn't been able to read smiles just so, he still would have known something was off. Sanzo's entire expression was utterly closed off; cold and silently seething.

Shooting the man a worried glance from the corner of his eye, Hakkai wondered, Did he hear something Gojyo and I could not?

But if Sanzo knew why Goku's cheer was so forced, he chose not to speak of it.

"Shut up and get in," the priest finally snapped. "We have a long way to go, and this distraction was more than enough, thank you."

"All right already," Goku grumbled, using his knee to hoist himself into the backseat. "Hey, Gojyo, move your legs!"

"You left, monkey. The space is mine."

"You startin' something, you bastard!"

"Only to finish it, brat!"

The distraction welcome, Hakkai started the engine, but didn't drive. Quietly, he inquired, "Sanzo?"

When he glanced the man's way, he was given a cool stare in return. Rather than answer, Sanzo stated simply, "You're not driving."

Had he been anyone else with even a notch less control, Hakkai would have struck Sanzo then. Whether with well-placed words or his fist, he wasn't sure, but he kept both under control. Plastering an empty smile of his own to his face, he said lightly, "Indeed, I'm not. I'll remedy that."

Perhaps he realized just how close he had come, for Sanzo looked away. "You do that," he muttered. For once, he didn't seem perturbed by the continuous squabbling in the backseat—or perhaps, considering recent events, he found the arguing calming.

The tension remained coiled in his shoulders.

Hakkai could do nothing about it. All he could do was drive westward; continue their perilous journey into an unknown which threatened to be even more terrifying than even this encounter.

And because they were men who attracted trouble simply by breathing, he saw no harm in doing so.

: the end :