AN: …Um, hi? Long time reader, first time poster. Of Saiyuki, anyway. Okay, really, I don’t think I’ve got all my facts straight with the series. I’ve seen literally five episodes, which were all that came on the DVD. I’ve got the second disk on order at Suncoast, but that’s not coming out till later this month, soooooo… Any errors are completely my fault. ^^;;; It was just an idea, really. I know that everyone—especially Goku—is terribly, terribly OOC. I know this. And…y’know, that’s okay. Read and tell me what you think. Not fluffy; not funny; not really, anyway. Please don’t flame me. It would break my delicate psyche, and, really, then I’d have to sick my army of penguins on you.
This fic was inspired by first one song, then the other. A cookie to those who can see the two main songs and tell me their names and artists. There’s another in here, and it’s the only one that’s actually “sung,” so I’ll just let you know that it doesn’t count. That one’s called Barcelona (I think) and it’s by Jewel.
…Hey, where’re you going? Come back!
Anyway, have fun! No, seriously, please. Do.
-Angel Baby

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The Letter Years by Angel Baby1

Goku lay spread-eagle on the soft grass just beyond the forest line, contemplating the stars with unnatural seriousness. Golden eyes tracked a shooting star’s fading path before drifting slowly back to the twinkling canopy.

In the end, he hoped Gojyo was wrong.

Another shooting star, this one probably missed by those with night vision weaker than his, which was a good percentage of the population, considering just how highly developed his night senses were. He’d never spelled out simply the extent of his yokai powers not inhibited by his diadem. He thought maybe the others might not like him as much after that. Even now, with half a world and battles of titanic proportion behind them, he hesitated to tell them.

So maybe Sanzo was right.

They’d been through a lot together, those four. Good times and bad, though the latter in startlingly larger proportions than the former.

Chibi saru… He wondered if Hakkai had a point.

The calm yokai’s face entered his field of vision as Goku crossed his arms in a pillow beneath his head. The diadem was a cold pressure against his wrist.

“Mind if I join you?” Hakkai asked soothingly.

Watching the stars rather than his companion’s expression, Goku nodded.

Hakkai sat beside him with a grateful sigh, leaning back on his arms. For a while, they were companionably silent, but the smaller demon knew that wouldn’t last long. Almost on cue Hakkai said, “The stars are beautiful tonight.”

“Aa.”

“Ah! Did you see that shooting star?”

“Yes. Did you see the one while you were sitting?”

Hakkai blinked before smiling again. “No. Must’ve just missed it.”

Doubt it. “Aa.”

A silence.

“Ne, Hakkai…did Sanzo send you to get me?”

“No,” Hakkai reassured. “I just thought you might like some company.”

“Chibi saru,” Goku murmured, then shook his head when Hakkai’s striking green eye flicked over to him. “Never mind. Hakkai, what did Sanzo mean when he said I’m still just a child? I’m eighteen; that’s not a child anymore. I’ve fought alongside you guys unlike any child in the world. How can I still be a child to him and Gojyo?”

For a moment, Hakkai considered his answer. “You’re young, Goku, maybe not in the way you fight, and probably despite what you’ve seen and experienced in your life, but in a way none of us are young anymore. When you fight, you enjoy it fully, like a game. Even Gojyo doesn’t fight like that. There is, at least, some sense of the stakes in his stance. There is none in yours. You take the full amount of enjoyment out of everything you do, eating, sleeping, fighting. Anything. You’re untainted through all. The three of us are bloodstained, in our own ways, beyond the bloodstain of the battlefield. You’re not.”

“You never told me how you’re bloodstained,” Goku murmured, more to himself than Hakkai. “None of you ever told me. I hate secrets.”

Especially those I keep from myself.

Am I really an unstained youth? And how would I know if I wasn’t?

The chains stripped the flesh from my wrists and the content from my mind before ever they wore at my heart.

But if he himself did not know, how could he expect the others to understand?

“What if I don’t want to be a child anymore?”

Hakkai sighed. “Well, inevitably you’ll grow up, Goku. It’s not something you should rush. Enjoy being young. Once it’s gone, you can’t get it back. No one begrudges you your childhood, I promise.” Was Hakkai coddling him?

Over five hundred years old and still the baby of the group.

Disgusting.

Goku took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then released it in a controlled stream. “You know, I’m not happy all the time.”

Hakkai blinked at the sudden change of topic but said nothing.

“I mean, it’s not possible for a person to be eternally optimistic. I don’t only think of food and if I’m not having a nightmare, I’m probably not dreaming, but I can never remember my nightmares because they’re from memories that were taken from me for something I don’t remember doing. I’m not a child.”

“Ah, but neither are you grown, Goku. Your mind is still young; you are still inexperienced, even if you don’t want to be anymore. The only way to change that is to experience as much of life as you can.”

“How do I do that?”

“You have been,” the other yokai laughed softly. “By traveling and seeing and meeting and fighting and challenging yourself to be better. It’s what we’ve all been doing on our journey to the West.”

Goku considered that. “But now we’re done; we’re West. We’ve beaten the bad guys. Now there’s nothing left.”

“There’s the trip back,” Hakkai reminded him. “And after that…who knows? Maybe you and Sanzo—and maybe me and Gojyo, too—will travel again someday. You don’t need a quest to travel, you know.”

Goku smiled because he was supposed to smile, but inside he was a turmoil of half-formed thoughts and a blossoming idea.

Sanzo and Hakkai and Gojyo didn’t need to travel anymore; they were already grown. Goku was not grown. He was still a child, according to those who knew him best.

Therefore, Goku needed to travel, needed to experience life, needed to see and meet and fight and challenge himself. Thus decided, Goku sat up, stretched, and wandered with Hakkai back to their campsite. He bickered with Gojyo and whined about food and generally goofed around all the way back to Sanzo’s gilded cage, because, as he’d already decided, this was the last leg of his youth.

Not two weeks after arriving, Goku set off again, eastward this time.

He carried the barest minimum in his bag and left only a note behind. He’d warned no one of his pending adventure, hadn’t even hinted at it since that fateful conversation with Hakkai. When Sanzo stumbled upon the clumsy farewell letter, he dismissed it as foolish and probably hugely embellished, as children were wont to do. He gave it two weeks before the monkey trotted home again.

Two months later, Sanzo showed the note to Hakkai and Gojyo.

I’ve gone on a trip to grow up.

Don’t know when I’ll be back.

See you then!

-Goku

Gojyo was predictably irate. “I’m going to snap that bakazaru’s neck when I find him! Stupid idiot’s probably camping in the forest. Let’s go get him,” he snarled, “that stupid—”

“Sanzo,” Hakkai interrupted, “when did you find this note?”

The blond coughed lightly into his right fist. “Er…two months ago.”

Gojyo hit the monk with his own fan. “Baka! That chibi saru’s been on his own for two months? He’s probably dead by now! Why didn’t you come to us earlier? Didn’t you notice he was gone?”

Sanzo shifted slightly, uncomfortable, then lit a cigarette and leaned against the wall.

“Yare yare desu ne,” Hakkai sighed. “Goku’s strong and resourceful. I’m sure he’s fine. In fact, I’d bet anything he’s made it to the ocean and he’s having a wonderful time.”

“You don’t have to be optimistic,” Gojyo snapped, stuffing things into a bag. “It would be better if you just faced facts and accepted the fact that he’s probably out there starving somewhere. Stupid brat couldn’t have made it as far as the ocean in just two months.”

“Well, he says he’s having fun working for an okonomiyaki store.”

“Oh, sure, that sounds so—” Gojyo froze and whirled to face Hakkai as Sanzo pushed himself away from the wall, also staring. “Wait, what do you mean, he says?”

Hakkai, smiling, held up a stack of papers. “Goku wrote us a letter.”

Stunned silence.

The demon scanned Goku’s letter. “It says he didn’t write us before because he didn’t know he was supposed to. He says the woman he works for told him it’s polite to write your friends, so that’s what he did.”

Sanzo snatched the letter from Hakkai and read it, Gojyo leaning over his shoulder to do the same.

Dear Sanzo, Hakkai, and kappa,

Jeez, this letter-writing thing is weird. I don’t understand the point of it, but the lady I work for told me I’m supposed to write to all my friends, so I am. I would have written sooner, but I didn’t know I was supposed to.

Oh, yeah, I’m working for a lady who runs an okonomiyaki store. She’s real nice. Her name’s Ukyo and she taught me how to make okonomiyaki. I worked the tables first, but she said I’ve got good reflexes and makes me cook now. I’d probably still be working tables if that sea monster hadn’t attacked.

Did I mention the sea monster? One attacked us and I beat it, of course. That’s how Ukyo figured I’d be a good cook and I got my camera. I saved this guy from getting eaten and he gave me his camera. It’s sort of neat. Film costs money, and I don’t like that part of it, but the guy taught me how to develop the pictures myself. Turns out he’s Ukyo’s husband. His name’s Ryoga. He says I should tell you guys how much stuff I’ve learned so far, so I will.

I learned how to develop film. Well, first I learned the weak point of sea monsters, then I learned how to take pictures, then I learned how to develop film.

I learned grammar, then I learned how to write letters.

I learned how to buss tables.

I learned how to make okonomiyaki.

I learned about money, salaries, and what Ukyo and Ryoga call money management. They say I’m learning how to be frugal. I’m not sure that’s a good thing.

I learned how to go rock diving, and I learned how to stay underwater longer. I learned how to play volleyball, and I learned that no one is as good at volleyball as I am, so I learned that volleyball is boring. But I like swimming and diving.

I learned that pearls come from oysters. Please find pearls enclosed.

I learned how to make jewelry from pearls. Please DON’T find that enclosed; I gave that to Ukyo.

I learned that girls are weirder than I thought. Especially beach girls, which I learned are called beach bunnies.

I learned how to throw small daggers and now I carry some with me all the time, because beach bunny boyfriends are the jealous type. I don’t kill them. I just pin them to walls to scare them, then collect my daggers and keep walking. I learned that beach bunny boyfriends like to be friends with stronger people. I made a lot of “friends” that way.

I learned to sense other yokai. I learned to sense specific parts of their auras, like how strong they are or how many are in a group. I learned that not all the yokai went back to being nice. And I learned that people think I’m a traveling fighter-for-hire. I have not said contrary. I have learned that a fighter-for-hire makes more than an okonomiyaki chef, and that a fighter-for-hire okonomiyaki chef makes even more. I have learned that I like earning money.

I’ve learned a lot more than that, but I’m running out of paper. Ukyo says I’m like a sponge, and why didn’t anyone try to teach me years ago?

I learned how to play guitar, an instrument I didn’t know existed before I got here. Why didn’t you guys teach me about music? I learned that I like it.

My shift’s starting in an hour and before that I’ve got to have a little talk with a very small yokai who’s terrorizing local herb gardens. I think he’d make a good farmer, but only if he’s taught how.

I sent you pictures. Not my first, because those were terrible, but a few that I think will show you what I’m seeing. It’s beautiful here. I’m having fun. I love the ocean.

Your friend,

Goku

“Clumsy,” Gojyo summarized, “and disorganized. But at least we know he’s alive.” He looked at Hakkai. “When did we get this?”

“Right before Sanzo got here,” the demon admitted. “I was going to show you, but then Sanzo came and everything got too confusing, so I just read the letter myself.” He shrugged and smiled. “He sounds happy.”

Sanzo was fishing in the large envelope the letter had come in. He pulled out five pictures then dumped a small fortune of black, white, blue, and pink pearls into Gojyo’s hands.

“Whoa,” the half-breed murmured, awed. “Kid couldn’t have known what he had if he gave ’em away so easily…”

“Goku doesn’t know greed or what it is to hoard,” Sanzo dismissed. “Except with food.”

“Hopefully,” Hakkai added, taking the pictures, “he never will. These are quite nice,” he mused, showing them to Gojyo as Sanzo put the pearls in a little dish, which he then set on an empty shelf.

The pictures were lovely. The first was of a sunrise over the ocean, making the water shine like diamonds. A second was of what must have been the okonomiyaki shop. A young blond couple laughed as they entered. The third showed Ukyo and Ryoga, probably at the end of the day, leaning against each other in the corner booth, asleep. Fourth was a shot of the view out of what they assumed was Goku’s room (also assuming he slept above the okonomiyaki shop). The beach stretched on endlessly, disrupted in either the early morning or evening by coconut trees and a few people. The last picture had an attached note: “This one’s Ryoga’s. He said I had to include it. I don’t know why.”

A picture of Goku, one dagger in either hand, smirking confidently as he stood atop an outcropping of rocks, facing a sea monster that was several hundred times his size.

“Bakazaru,” Gojyo chuckled, finally accepting the situation. “Same old Goku. He’ll never change.”

“Hasn’t he already?” Hakkai asked rhetorically. “Photography, guitar, okonomiyaki, fighter-for-hire…he’s changing every day.”

Sanzo was oddly silent as he studied Goku’s pictures. Without a word he tucked them into his robes.

“Hey!” Gojyo protested. “You can’t take those! Goku sent them to all of us!”

“Urusai, baka. Do you want them framed or not?”

Gojyo gaped.

“You’d do better to get a photo album,” Hakkai mused. “He’ll probably send us more.”

Sanzo nodded once before stranding out of the smallish apartment. Once he was gone, Hakkai smiled to himself as Gojyo pulled down the pearls and poked through them. “Saa, Goku. You’re growing up already. Ne?”

In the distant East, Goku watched the ocean and smiled.

A few weeks after sending his letter, Goku thanked Ukyo and Ryoga and left, making his way sort of northwest. After he lost himself in the foliage of the first forest he hit, he turned north and walked directly.

Time to go play in the snow.

P.S., he wanted to add now, I can tell direction without a compass.

Too late. He wouldn’t be able to send another letter until he found another town, and who knew when that’d be? That was why he’d taken Ryoga’s advice and invested in a letter notebook. (Ukyo called it a journal, but Ryoga said that was a sissy name. Goku, to avoid conflict, smiled and nodded.) He began every entry Dear Guys and wrote from there. He took inordinate amounts of pictures, storing the film for later. He wanted to capture every moment so he could share it with the three who weren’t with him.

He didn’t like being alone.

Dear Guys, he wrote, birds and fury woodland creatures really, really like me. They follow me around when I’m by myself. It helps a little.

That last line probably wouldn’t make it to the real letter, but that was okay. He was lonely and could whine in his own book if he felt like it.

Then Goku met Artemis. One night he walked into a clearing and there she was, sitting among little white flowers, drowned in moonlight. She wore a loose white shift that glowed slightly. A crown of white flower rested in long, flowing white hair that pooled around her. He watched her silently for what might have been hours as the moon shone above them. Then, suddenly, midnight blue met gold as she turned to meet his eyes. Though Goku took an involuntary step back as what seemed like the whole night sky stared at him, the girl before him only smiled.

“Hello, Brother,” she greeted in a voice pitched soft and low. “I am Artemis of the Moon and the Hunt, for now. You may call me Tsuki, if you prefer.” He would call her Artemis till the day he died. She held one small, pale hand out to him, and he found himself resting the tips of his tanned fingers in her palm. “What is your name, Brother?”

“I,” he breathed, “I am Goku. Son Goku.”

Her smile grew slightly warmer as the corners of her fantastic eyes crinkled. She curled her fingers around his. “That is not the name Mother gave you, Earth Brother. Come, sit by your Moon Sister. I shall try to discover why you do not know me.”

With a grace that surprised himself, Goku settled gently next to the slight girl.

“Mother gave us life,” Artemis told him. They leaned against each other as the night passed. She watched the moon’s movements across the sky; he watched the moon’s movement across his earth, watched the shadows shrink and grow. “I was born of moonlight. Brother was born of water. Sister of air. There is another of fire, and one of nature. You are of earth. You were the First. Mother loves you best of all, you know. You, her most powerful, most precious, lost child. The little gods of Here and Now found you, took you away, and chained you before your poor brothers and sisters ever saw you. You are still chained.”

“No,” he murmured, smiling slightly. “A man named Sanzo found me in a mountainside and broke my chains.”

Artemis’ eyes crinkled again. “Poor Brother. Those are not the chains of which I speak.” She turned slightly and touched his diadem. “This holds your power, your memories, and your sorrow. The little Here and Now gods thought to do you a favor, since that one’s death hurt you deeply. They thought to save you from yourself. But you are my beautiful Brother Earth. You would have weathered it.” She caressed the diadem. “That is why you cannot stand your own power, because it is tainted with sorrow.” Her fingers curled around the limiter, and Goku knew what she was going to do only the second before she did it. “Cry on my shoulder, Brother Earth.”

She pulled the diadem off and wrapped her arms around him, forcing his forehead onto her shoulder.

Goku, consumed with primal rage and battle instinct, fought against her. But the Moon was not swayed. She weathered his anger even as his claws tore at her back. Eventually, his anger ebbed. Eventually, he began to calm. Eventually, he remembered. Eventually, the memories made sense.

Eventually, he mourned.

And Artemis held him.

Dear Sanzo, Hakkai, and Gojyo-kappa,

Sorry it’s been so long; I’ve been really busy. I’ll try not to go six months without writing again, but it’s really the towns I have trouble with, not the writing. I’ve written unbelievable amounts, actually, in several books. Most of it isn’t any good. Anyway, hopefully it won’t take me this long next time.

I feel like I’ve been around the world twice, but really I’ve spent most of the last six months wandering around the same forest. No, Gojyo, I’m not lost. I met someone who lives here and she’s been teaching me a lot. She’s surreal. Ethereal. Both.

And, actually, she’s sort of my sister. That’s another story entirely, though. I tried taking pictures of her; they don’t come out. I’ve taken lots of pictures of the moon, though, and hopefully that works just as well.

Sanzo, I remember everything from before the cave, and I want you to know that I didn’t do anything to deserve five hundred years in a cave. And, before that incident, I did nothing to deserve either the chains or the diadem. So I gave the diadem back. Don’t worry, I’m in complete control. Artemis helped a lot. I’m not going too in depth on that, and I’m not going to tell any of you about before the cave. It’s better you don’t know. Besides, now I have secrets, too. You keep yours; I’ll keep mine.

Hakkai, I learned that I was bloodstained beyond the bloodstain of the battlefield, too. I had just forgotten. Now I remember, but I don’t think that makes me grown up. I am still a child.

It was having to support the diadem that made me always hungry. Just thought you’d want to know.

I’m in a little village to the north of everything, enjoying the snow. I’m working for a resort, showing people around, entertaining the upper class clientele, fighting monsters, wowing the ladies, et cetera, et cetera. I’ve learned how to ski and snowboard. I prefer snowboarding. I also discovered and learned piano. It was harder than guitar and, as it’s rather difficult dragging a piano on a journey of self-discovery, I think I probably won’t pursue the art very far. Besides, the social elite seem to prefer golden skinned, golden eyes employees who play fireside guitar well to golden skinned, golden eyes employees who play fireside piano…passably.

I have learned how to shmooze. And I have learned how to keep my mouth shut. Or, as a co-worker put it, how to “eat shit and smile.” I quite like that phrase. It fits this situation perfectly.

We’re snowed in. If it weren’t for carrier pigeons, I wouldn’t be able to send this letter. I’ll probably end up spending a considerable about of time here. Hopefully not, but probably. Just as soon as I get enough supplies, though, I’m out of here. I’ll snowboard down the mountain and just camp out in the snow. Call it impetuous youth, cabin fever, whatever. Rich people are so boring. They’re spoiled. Their kids are spoiled. Their wretched poodles are spoiled. And if this one rich bitch doesn’t stop saying she’ll pay me to be her special friend, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.

Call that impetuous youth. I do. So does my boss. But she says I’m too cute to fire. Heh. Beat that, Gojyo. I’m a tourist attraction. Must be my foreign beauty.

Isn’t that a disgusting thought? Three people have told me that today alone. There’s this one old lady who tries to get me to escort her all over the place. It irritates the hell out of me.

Snow yokai are more irritating than dangerous. I’m mediating a discussion of rights and terms of settlement and employment between the resort and the demons. Of course, this whole thing went a lot better when everyone took into account my yokai blood. If I can be helpful around the place, why can’t they?

And I don’t even really have a limiter anymore, so there’s that, too.

I’ve sent you a bunch of pictures as well as a few trinkets I’ve picked up along the way. The pendant is hard to explain through a letter. Please take good care of it till I get back and can tell you what it’s for and who made it. Well, who helped me make it, anyway. It’s quite a story.

You know, in fact, just give the pendant to Sanzo right now. Sanzo, keep it safe. I’m counting on you.

Before I was snowed in, I went to a cathedral and heard the most beautiful singing. I closed my eyes and thought I could almost see heaven. I’m experiencing such wonders. You were right, Hakkai. If this is growing up, I wish I could have used those five hundred years to do it. I don’t feel any older or wiser or taller or anything that indicates I’ve grown at all, but I have noticed that I bicker less. I’m less of a burden and more of an associate. Or is it asset? Either way, I like it.

I’d hoped to be back with all of you by now; I guess I was a bit off, huh? I haven’t even stared on my way to the South, and then I have to go back West. The timetable all depends on this winter. Looks like I’m a seasonal traveler, though I didn’t plan that. Fall in the East; winter in the North. Maybe spring in the South and summer in the West? Then back home by fall. Only time will tell.

Okay, now to list the things I’ve learned besides skiing and snowboarding and piano and shmoozing and stuff.

I’ve learned to meditate. And I’ve learned to like it.

When I was eight, someone said, “Never give that Son Goku a sword. He’s such trouble with his little stick, he’d be a real monster with a sword.” So I’m learning how to make swords from the resident carpenter/blacksmith/plumber/Jack-of-all-trades. He’s showing me how to work metal. Once I understand that, he’s going to teach me how to make weapons, and I’m going to make swords. Two of them. Then I’m going to learn how to use them. Then I’m going to have some fun with Rich Bitch and her poodles from hell.

I’ve learned to smell coming storms and know what they are and how bad they’ll be. I’ve learned to know avalanches by the way the snow feels on the earth. I’ve learned to sense a heartbeat—human, yokai, or poodle—and find it buried in an ocean of white.

I’ve learned to be quiet and still. I’ve learned to be alone. I don’t like it, but I’ve learned it. I’ve also learned the questions to ask on a quiet night by the fire that will make a person talk, that will soothe them into giving me their secrets. I’ve learned to use golden eyes. I don’t think I’ll tell you more than that.

I’ve learned that snow is so cold it’s warm. It’s like a blanket, muffling all sound, all traces of life. It’s beautiful in its ferocity. Mother Nature’s blanket is wrapping ever steadily around this resort. If I don’t leave soon, I’ll be caught. Whatever happens, don’t expect a letter any time soon. I’ll try, but no promises.

Hope you enjoy the pictures.

Yours,

Goku

Gojyo sifted through one of the five stacks of pictures, awed by their stark quality but unwilling to admit his respect for Goku’s talent. They were pictures of people—yokai and human alike—places, and poodles. Lots of poodles. It was an army of poodles. No wonder Goku wanted to hurt them.

A picture of someone who could only be the Rich Bitch, pretty though most of it was cosmetics, bundled in expensive furs. Gojyo wished Goku luck.

And a solitary picture of Goku, taken by someone less experienced. He was surrounded by posh teenage customers, sitting in a ring of them by the fire, laughing as he strummed a guitar. The laugh was genuine, but the slight glint in his eyes led Gojyo to believe that the laugher was more of an “at you, not with you” variety.

Well, well, props to the kid-who-wasn’t-a-kid.

Sanzo took the picture from his fingers, looked at it a moment, then slid it into a sleeve in the photo album.

“He’s getting sneaky,” Gojyo observed, pulling a wolf pelt from the box that held Goku’s “trinkets.” He gave a descending whistle of appreciation. “Nice. Where’d he get this?”

“The attached note says the wolf killed three poodles and a down comforter before he was sent to take care of it. It was an old, sick loner.” Hakkai smiled slightly at the note. “He says he’d rather have kept and tamed him, but the wolf looked sad and tired of living. At least his heart isn’t aging. What else did he send?”

Sanzo dipped into the box and pulled out a small piece of cloth. This he unwrapped to reveal a beautiful pendant: two delicate snakes of metal—one gold, the other silver—wrapped around each other in a figure eight infinity symbol of about an inch and a half in length. This was attached seamlessly to a tiny loop through which was laced a delicate chain. It glittered madly even in the simple lighting, and it was the most beautiful thing any of them had seen.

Abruptly Sanzo rewrapped the pendant and stuck it in his robe.

“Goku made that?” Hakkai murmured, sounding a little shaky. “It’s powerful.”

“It’s a type of…limiter, I think,” Sanzo said, his hand above the spot that concealed the jewelry. “Like a limiter but different. We’re not messing with it until he gets back. Period.”

The other two distracted themselves by diving into the box. Gojyo still had the wolf pelt across his lap. “‘I got this off a yokai who didn’t need it. Oddly enough, I don’t, either,’” Gojyo read, head tilted sideways to see the little tag that hung off the small red velvet pouch. He opened the pouch and poured it into his hand.

And gasped.

His hand now held a not-so-small fortune in ring-sized gems: rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and diamonds. He was still drooling when Hakkai swept the dethroned gems into another small dish, which he placed by the pearls on the Goku’s Trinkets shelf. Next to this he placed a stunningly fashioned ivory egg on an intricate golden stand.

“I need to go a journey of self-discovery, too,” Gojyo moaned enviously. “I need to be a fighter-for-hire. I do. Seriously.”

Sanzo hit him with his fan. “Urusai. People only trust him because he’s trustworthy and out for more than a good lay.”

“Journey of self-discovery,” Hakkai murmured, fingering the letter, which was, in all of their minds, more precious than any of the trinkets. “Even his vocabulary is growing. How is it that he’s sane without his diadem?” he asked, brow furrowing. “Who is this Artemis? And why should the moon be a substitute for a picture?”

“Got to give him points for being vague as hell,” Gojyo laughed. “That’s a new trick, for sure. He couldn’t have done vague to save his life before. That whole limiter thing has me a bit confused, too, though. Unless he’s not telling everything?” The half-breed shrugged. “We’ll know when he gets back.”

When he gets back.

Sanzo leaned against the wall and took a long drag off his cigarette.

Then back in the fall.

Stupid monkey. What’s growing up so important for, anyway? Truth be told, he was fond of the chibi saru. Would he be fond of this new Son Goku, powerful and in control of that power? Aware of manipulation and able himself to manipulate?

Only time would tell, indeed.

Hell.

Goku made it out of the resort mere hours before the heavy skies relieved themselves of their burdens. He’d left the manager with a host of snow yokai for substitute employees, though, so he didn’t feel guilty. He walked after his escape, when the snow was no longer thick enough to support his snowboard. He walked for a very long time, until he’d out walked winter. Or so it seemed. He passed through a grove of wisteria, pausing by the largest tree to take in the beauty of them in full bloom. Pulling out his camera, he snapped a shot before smiling to himself rather sadly. He wished he had someone with him.

Goku hated being alone.

Gradually he became aware of the sound of soft crying. But, upon closer inspection, he could find no one. Even after closing his eyes, he could not sense the distressed person.

So he took the direct route.

“Hello?” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth as he turned once slowly. “I can hear your crying; what’s wrong? I won’t hurt you, I promise. Come out!”

“Do you know?” the very air seemed to whisper. “Do you know what happened to her?”

“Happened to who?”

“To my lady. Have you seen her?”

Goku frowned, arms crossed in frustration. “You’re not making any sense. Come out!”

“As you wish.”

The wisteria tree behind him—largest in the grove—shifted slightly. Goku leapt away, drawing the sword hanging on his back. Its twin, hanging on his right hip, didn’t seem necessary just yet.

His jaw and sword dropped slightly when he set eyes on his “opponent.”

A fairy. A wisteria fairy, draped in the lower branches. Her hair spread out into the flowers, matching their shade perfectly. Her eyes were the same color and her skin pale. She wore a kimono covered in her flowery name-sakes. The dress fell limply off her shoulders and revealed one long leg.

Goku flushed violently before her sad, forlorn expression and the tears on her cheeks registered. Then he managed to stammer, “W-who are you looking for?”

“The lady who used to come and play in my grove. She danced. She has been gone now for quite some time when before she would stay weeks on end.”

Goku swallowed hard as he sheathed his sword. “She, uh…she probably moved or something. Got married. Had kids. Who knows? Humans tend to put a lot of stock in growing up.”

“I have known many humans who have come and loved and then left. Their life spans do not trouble me. But my lady was not human.”

Yokai? “What did she look like?”

“Pale skinned and hair like mine but white. Her eyes were every color carried by the wind.”

“What about her ears?”

The wisteria fairy smiled sadly; the expression sent more tears trickling down her cheeks. “They were small, like mine, but delicately pointed. I have seen and known yokai; she was not of that blood.”

So not a yokai and not a human. Goddess? Angel? Who knew? But not someone—something—that would leave the grove. Another fairy?

Only one way to know.

“Where’s the nearest town?”

He spent nearly a week in the small fishing village, asking questions and getting no answers, before he walked by the southernmost tower of the local lord’s castle and heard the singing.

If you could hear
The voice in my heart
It would tell you
I'm afraid I’m alone
Won't somebody please
Hold me

Release me

Show me the meaning of mercy
Let me loose
Fly…

Let me fly
But if you could hear the voice in my heart
It would tell you
I'm tired of feeling this way
God won't you please
Hold me

Release me
Show me the meaning of mercy
Let me loose
Fly…
Let me fly

He turned slowly toward that tower as the last wavering note broke into silence.

And he knew he’d found her.

That night, he stormed the castle.

The lady of the wisteria fairy’s sorrow looked at him in shock and surprise when he sliced the door in half and kicked in it. Her expression softened into fondness and relief when she realized who it was.

The triumphant smile slipped off Goku’s face and every cut and bruise was suddenly more than worth it as he recognized her, too.

“Wind Sister…”

“Earth Brother,” she greeted in return, holding her shackled arms open to him. Her hair pooled around her and spilled all over the floor. “You are more beautiful than I could have imagined. I am sorry I missed your birth. You came before me, you see, so I could not fly up and get you. You were meant to wait for me, but…but things did not progress such. Ah, I missed you.”

He was holding her before he realized he’d crossed the room. The shackles of metals originally dug of his earth melted from her delicate arms, disappeared from around her neck and ankles. Very gently he pulled off her heavy crown of binding iron and replaced it with a circlet of platinum silver gold. A teardrop of diamond hung from the center, reflecting the changing colors of the wind and her eyes. She smiled as her rags melted away to become a gown of endless yards of flowing white silk. Tears of release and joy filled her eyes and tumbled to the floor. She took both his calloused hands and squeezed them gently.

“The wisteria fairy misses your company.”

Her guards stood gathered in the doorway, awed dumb by the reunion.

“As do I.”

“I missed you as well.”

“As did I.”

“This place…you have lived here? I hate it.”

“As do I.”

“Let’s go, Wind Sister.”

“Yes, dear Earth Brother. Let us…” She shut her eyes and tipped her head back. “Fly.”

Goku turned his molten golden eyes on the guards before he was swept away in his sister’s wind.

The five men, broken by that sight, dropped their swords to dedicate their lives to the tender care of an inconsequential wisteria grove.

Dear Sanzo, Hakkai, and Gojyo,

I’ve met a real water sprite. Gojyo, you don’t compare. Technically he’s more of a water deity, but it’s semantics, especially to him.

Please find enclosed a picture of a friend of mine. Her name’s Ki, and she’s a wisteria fairy. A very nice person, actually, and a close friend of the wind deity. I’m meeting such wonderful people.

Oh, and, Gojyo, she says she’d really like to meet you.

Hakkai, please restrain Gojyo and remind him that I don’t leave return addresses. If he wants to meet her, he’d better be nice to me when I get back. Got that, Gojyo?

Sanzo, I met an old monk who told me a lot of stories, taught me a lot of stuff, let me live in his house, and gave me this old talisman. He was its protector. He asked me to send it to you last night and died shortly after. He says we were fated to meet. I was sorry to see him pass. I’ll miss him.

Anyway, I’m about ready to head West again. It’s weird to even think of the West without also thinking about death-defying stunts and fights and assignments and enemies and such.

Good times, good times…

I accidentally wandered into a town that believed in and practiced an obscure, inane branch of magic called Cynamatiks. They all spent a lot of time wandering around making speeches and striking poses. As can be expected, they had a huge problem with getting the respect of local yokai forces. I’m not going into what I had to do to save those people from themselves. Suffice to say I spent more time talking to the yokai than the humans.

Humans are stupid.

Sanzo, you’re the exception.

I think most yokai should show humans more pity. Life would be boring without them.

I met a prince. He was running away from home (and, coincidentally, his responsibility). We bumped into each other in the forest just off the palace grounds. Well…he bumped into me. I was in a tree eating lunch at the time. We spent about a week wandering around, battling yokai, saving people, doing good deeds. Then I brought him home because he realized that was where he needed to be. But I promised to visit, since we’re friends and everything.

Anyway, what have I learned?

I learned to ride horses, bridled and unbridled, saddled and unsaddled, tame and wild, mares and stallions. It’s fun.

I learned how to dance. Lost a bet. Don’t ask. Please.

I learned how to bartend. Before any of you freak out, I didn’t drink; I just got other people drunk. It was really quite funny.

I learned about various assorted forest beings besides the average furry woodland creature.

I learned how to properly burry someone and how to mourn. Well, really, I learned that twice. But this time I learned how to do it alone.

I’ve learned I don’t have to like something for it to be fact. And I’ve learned how to fix things that are fact that I don’t like that also aren’t right. Repeat a few dozen times.

I learned more about where I came from and why. I learned the path I took was not the one mapped for me at my birth. I’ve learned about regret.

The South is beautiful. Lots of sun. I miss you guys and think I’m just about ready for this trip to be over. I’m not grown yet, but that’s looking like something of an impossibility now. I might have to settle for “more grown than I was when I left.”

Anyway, see you in a season or two.

Your friend,

Goku

Gojyo snickered as he flipped through a book Goku had sent him specifically.

Mr. Boston’s Bartender Guide
“Kid’s got taste,” he summarized in a pleased purr when Hakkai extracted a very rare, very expensive bottle of liquor from Goku’s box and wordlessly passed it over.

Sanzo was fingering the pendant. “It’s for heightening the power of chants or spells,” he explained curtly, tucking it in one pocket.

Hakkai, unwrapping an ornamental dagger probably from the prince’s hoard, only smiled.

Gojyo gagged suddenly: He’d found the picture of Ki the wisteria fairy lounging in the branches of her tallest tree. “M-must,” he managed, “must…find…”

Sanzo snatched the photo from him and whacked him upside the head. “You’re crinkling it!” he hissed. Then he glanced at it and sighed, passing it to Hakkai, who placed it in the photo album. “Don’t you ever think of anything else, you perverted fuck?”

Gojyo seriously considered that a moment before simply grinning.

“If he’s sending us all this,” Hakkai mused, ignoring them, “how in the world is he making a living?” For he’d just up-ended a goodly sized bag of gold coins with the simple explanation “The stupid idiots said it was Cynamatik to repay me. You can have this; just looking at it’s giving me a headache.”

“We’re going to be robbed,” Gojyo decided as he let his gaze travel over the quickly filling shelf of goodies. “I mean, thieves have sixth senses about treasure, and we’re a fucking museum of rare and expensive items. We are so going to be robbed.”

“Yare yare desu ne,” Hakkai murmured, a dangerous glint in his eye. “They might sense Goku’s treasures, and they might try…”

Gojyo laughed as Sanzo, smirking, lit a cigarette. “Ah, hell, let ‘em come! It might be worth the fun.”

Sanzo released a stream of smoke in place of a sigh. “What the hell are we supposed to do with a partially grown monkey?” he wondered, letting his ashes fall to the ground.

Gojyo shrugged. “Train him?” he suggested.

“He went off to grow up for the both of you,” Hakkai commented almost absently. “Chibi saru… You might try treating him like an adult.”

The half-breed snorted, cracking open a beer. “And pigs might fly. Look, I know the kid’s got his letters sounding all mature and shit, but there’s no way the saru’s actually changed. It’s not in him to be older. He’ll be a kid forever.”

“Don’t let that be the first thing he hears you say,” Hakkai sighed, still flipping through the new pictures. “He’s working hard to prove himself.”

Gojyo snorted, opening the photo album to show the yokai a picture of a waterfall. “Does this look like a place a guy goes to in order to prove himself? No. This is just another of his games. He’s playing tourist. He’ll come back and be the same old saru with a few new tricks.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Hakkai warned, frowning slightly. “Aren’t you reading his letters? He’s learning the art of manipulation, among others. Look, all I’m saying is we should give him a chance when he gets back from his journey.”

“When the kid gets back from his little site-seeing trip,” Gojyo yawned, stretching, “I’ll sure as hell give him about twenty seconds to yap about it. Then I’m going to kick his ass for skipping out on us without so much as a word.”

Sanzo indicated the pile of Goku’s correspondence with a wave of his cigarette. “He gave us eighteen, actually, including his name. And I’m not sure it’s possible for that stupid ape to have grown up in this short amount of time,” he continued to Hakkai, snubbing his smoke, “but I’ll let him prove it one way or the other.” So saying he left, the pendant still hidden in the folds of his robe.

“Such a charming guy,” Gojyo snorted, standing and stretching.

“Goku left for the two of you,” Hakkai repeated softly, studying one picture. He passed it up to Gojyo. “In the end, I hope it was worth it.”

As Hakkai left, Gojyo stared at the picture. It was another of Goku, and the red haired part-yokai was willing to bet the saru didn’t know it had made it into the mix.

Goku sat with his back to a wisteria tree, sleeping with his left leg stretched out in front of him and his right curled up to his chest. Double swords leaned against that leg and his torso, within easy reach of the hand propped on his knee. He was covered in blood, though most of it seemed to be someone else’s, for the teen looked healthy enough. His wild brown hair had grown and now shadowed the entire upper portion of his face.

Gojyo wished he could see the boy’s eyes, wished he was awake and sharing his expression. It was easy to read Goku’s soul in his eyes.

Wasn’t it?

It had been, anyway.

The half-breed sighed and absently flicked the photo away.

“Fuck, Goku. It was just teasing. You didn’t have to go this far. Bakazaru…”

But the person in the photo looked nothing like either an idiot or a monkey. He looked insanely heroic, like the guy in the end of fairy tales who died for the Good of Everyone.

Damnit, you idiot, you sure as hell better still be you when you get back, or…or I’ll…

I’ll what? Throw a fit?

Fuck.

Goku sat on a cliff edge by his brother, both in silent contemplation of the sunrise over the arid wasteland. Behind them, far off where it couldn’t even be heard, there was a city, the main city of an empire, and it was a tattered remnant of its forebear’s dignity. Its people were in discord and wailed with the grief of revolution.

“The sun sets the clouds on fire this morning,” Goku’s Nature Brother commented softly. His skin was tanner than Goku’s, his eyes bark brown. His hair was forest green with bits of leaves and twigs liberally tangled in the long tresses. It seemed all of his brothers and sisters had longer hair than Goku.

“The sky isn’t on fire,” the golden eyes teen sighed. “It’s bleeding. The city’s bloodshed is reflected in the heavens.”

“There was nothing you could do. The humans and yokai were going to have their war with or without your approval.”

“Yes, but I exist, a yokai who lives, works, laughs, and cries with humans. I should have proven their mistake, but I didn’t. My life should mean something, but it doesn’t. I couldn’t stop them.”

“You won’t be able to stop everything,” Nature sighed, eyes unblinking as they studied the sun. “You can’t help everyone. You’re only one person; you can only do so much.”

“I’ve never not been enough before,” Goku protested, drawing one knee up to his chest and resting his chin on that. “I’ve always been plenty, especially without my limiter. They wouldn’t listen to me, none of them. They just wanted a blood-let. Why? I walked all over that city, talked to all sorts of people. They knew what I was saying was right, so…why?”

“You’re not God, Earth Brother. You might be something like a god, but you’re not the God, our All-Father. You can’t fix people. Sometimes it’s just too late. But from this may yet come some good. We have no way of knowing, no way of seeing. It is not our future to shape. If there weren’t a forest so close to this city, I would take no notice of it. Their fate is not tied to mine. If they succeed in destroying my stronghold here, I will leave. If they destroy themselves, I will stay. You should not take their decisions on your shoulders. If not for this journey, you would not know of their misdeeds. Their fate is not tied to yours.”

“It still sucks,” Goku muttered, causing his brother to smiled slightly.

“Yes. It still sucks. What fools these mortals be,” he sighed, leaning back on his arms to watch the sky lighten. “But that is their lot.”

“And ours is to watch them kill each other needlessly?”

Another sigh. “Yes. You missed five hundred years of war and famine and death and chaos with little added bits of happiness and life and growth. Humans and yokai both cannot be happy unless there is turmoil. It is something their races have in common.”

Goku snorted. “Too bad.” He opened his eyes and picked his head up, watching the crimson sunrise. “That’s so beautiful,” he mused contemplatively. “I should really have brought my camera.”

His brother’s woodland eyes flicked to his profile. “Everything you have seen thus far,” he said softly, “has been through the lens of a camera. There is a degree of separation of which I cannot approve. You do not live your life, my brother.”

Goku frowned. “There isn’t a layer of separation,” he argued. “I’m just trying to send Sanzo and Hakkai and Gojyo a bit of my trip, that’s all.”

“If you needed to share this trip with them, it would be them beside you now, not I.”

The earth child pivoted sharply to meet his brother’s calm eyes. “If they’d come, I wouldn’t be here at all. They’d have been able to stop the massacre. Sanzo would’ve—” He stopped suddenly and turned away. “I’m the screw up, not them. I’m the immature brat who can only think of food and fun. I’m just a chibi bakazaru.”

“You’ve said aught of food to me,” his brother argued conversationally. “You’ve tried to save a city.”

“Yeah, but the guys would’ve—”

“They were not here. You were. You cannot say what might have been. You can only say what has been, and what has been is the result of human and yokai weakness and dissent. You could not have prevented this; no one could have. But it—and your comrades—are the reason you put such dependence on your camera—because, through it, the world is perfect.” The nature child shook his head. “The world is not perfect, my little older brother. Far from it. Food is not always good; sleep is not always peaceful; people are not always honest; reality is not always as we wish it. In fact, reality is hardly ever as we wish it. Things happen. What we are is defined by how we react to the situations we are dealt. That is how one becomes an adult. You can suck every last ounce of enjoyment out of life as is possibly conceivable, but you are not grown until you can stare tragedy in the face and deal with it. You need serenity to accept the things you cannot change, courage to change the things you can, and wisdom to know the difference. Then your journey will have been worth it.” He smiled at his beloved older brother, lost for five full turns of the Wheel. “Then you can rely on pictures.”

Goku laid back, crossing his arms beneath his head as he watched early morning clouds drift tiredly by. He was in the West again, but his mission wasn’t even half fulfilled. Almost a full year he’d been gone, and what had he become?

A Goku who’d seen many wonderful things and met many wonderful people, but still a child at heart. His brothers and sisters—veterans of life—indulged his childishness with patience born of necessity. But he didn’t want them to. He wanted to walk along side them as an equal, as he wanted to walk beside Sanzo and Hakkai and Gojyo. He wanted to be their friend, not their pet or child. It was infuriating. His vacation had been worthless.

Wait, what?

Goku sighed a laugh. He’d caught himself in his own mistake. Can’t stop a city from tearing itself apart, can’t resist gloating to the others about where’d he’d been through expensive things and photos…

Can’t help but make a journey of self-discovery into a game.

“Time to start from square one,” he murmured, smiling sadly. “But this time…”

This time…

No more 3x5s.

Dear Sanzo, Hakkai, and Gojyo,

I'm writing you to catch you up on places I've been. You held this letter—might’ve got excited—but there's nothing else inside it. Except my camera. Months ago, just when I should have been heading back, I started my trip all over again, from the beginning. I don’t have a camera by my side this time in the hopes I’ll see the world with both my eyes.

I finally overcame trying to fit the world inside a picture frame.

Months ago, I learned that I can’t fix everything. Sanzo, I went to a city, and they needed help, but I couldn’t help them. They all ended up killing each other anyway. I got hurt for them and yelled at them and begged them, but…they just killed each other. After that, I had no choice but to start all over again.

I went sort of east-ish and back to the beach. Not Ukyo’s, just…the beach. The ocean there looked like a thousand diamonds strewn across a blue blanket. Way better than the ones I sent you. I dug my toes in the sand there and leaned back against the wind and felt weightless. I laid down and watched the sky, painted colors of a cowboy's cliché. I wish you could have been there.

I went sort of north-ish and saw mountains. Really saw mountains. And it’s strange how clouds that look like mountains in the sky are next to mountains on the ground. It was strange to me, anyway. The mountains were huge and foreign and a little intimidating, but mountains were built for me in the first place. I came from them, in the beginning. So they’re really not so bad. Beautiful in a powerfully silent sort of way. I wish you could have been there.

I went sort of south-ish and lived in a desert. Tumbleweeds and everything. It was dry and hot and deadly, but it was wonderful, in its own way. People actually live in the deserts, did you know? I didn’t. There are ways of finding water in barren wastelands, did you know? I didn’t. I wish you could have been there.

I’m headed sort of west-ish again. I’m not sure when I’ll get another letter to you. It’s been…what? Almost a year now? A few months shy of that? The thing with the city took more out of me than I could ever possibly convey with words. I don’t think I spoke much—that is, I don’t think I’ve spoken. There’s not much to say. I’m traveling alone, after all, and though I meet people and help them, it’s more a matter of assisting than really helping, because sometimes you can’t help, sometimes you just have to try your level best and even then…

I’m not making sense, am I? Guess you had to be there…guess you had to be with me.

Anyway, you should have seen this morning’s sunrise with your own eyes. It brought me back to life. Next time you'll be with me.

A lot has happened. Maybe I’ll tell you all about it when I'm in the mood to lose my way with words. Just no more 3x5s.

-Goku

Gojyo looked visibly torn between wanting to curse the child out and being nearly brought to tears by this much-desired sign of his continued existence. It had indeed been very nearly a year since the “I’ve met a wisteria fairy and you haven’t so nya” letter. Though the correspondence was treasured, it was also somewhat odd. Somewhat older. And not a “vacationing in paradise, wish you were here” letter.

Damnit, Hakkai was right again, wasn’t he? The little brat was growing up.

And it was all his and Sanzo’s fault.

Shit.

“No trinkets,” Sanzo observed, arching a delicate eyebrow. “No pictures, no ‘I Learned’s.”

“He only sent us the letter and his camera,” Hakkai agreed, inspecting said camera. He’d never seen one before and it was fascinating. Goku could use this thing? Amazing.

“What’s his deal with the three-X-fives?” the priest asked, tilting his head slightly.

“Three-by-fives,” Hakkai corrected, “and it’s the measurements of a picture. Three inches by five inches. But as to why he would suddenly decide he didn’t want to take anymore when they gave him such joy before…” The full yokai shrugged. “It’s anyone’s guess.”

“I’d put money on it having to do with that city he went on about,” Gojyo added, swirling the beer left in his can. “I’d stake my life on it.”

“That’s only because you’re so clever and observant,” Sanzo snapped sarcastically. “I, on the other hand, didn’t read the part about his changed views on heroism stemming from whatever the hell happened at that thrice-damned city. I must have been sleeping through that part.”

Hakkai made soothing motions with his hands. “Calm down,” he murmured, “fighting isn’t going to help. Learning that some things are beyond his control was inevitable. Now or in fifty years, it had to happen.”

“I would have preferred fifty years,” Gojyo and Sanzo growled together. “Damn monkey.” They blinked in surprise then glared at each other.

Hakkai coughed to disguise his laugh. “This letter was postmarked several months ago,” he pointed out hopefully. “If all goes well, Goku could be coming home soon.”

Sanzo made a strange sound that was halfway between a snort and a growl. “And if all goes as previously it has gone, this will be the last letter we get for another goddamn year! Fucking snot-nosed shit-eating bastard born brat!”

Gojyo and Hakkai stared at him.

Whoa. Sanzo-sama was pissed.

Then a light went on in Gojyo’s head and he grinned manically. “Ooo…don’t tell me the great Sanzo-sama was worried about his errant monkey-disciple? Afraid he was tangled in a life of debauchery and lost to the Straight and Narrowness of your lovely gilded cage?”

Sanzo slugged him before storming out of the tiny apartment amongst gales of hanyou laughter. The priest stormed all the way back to his temple, fuming about the injustices of life, and who the hell did those fucking floating heads think they were, saddling him with people like the kappa and the saru for companions on such a journey? Now he’d never get rid of them!

Or, at least, he’d never get rid of the kappa. He seemed to have done a bang-up job of losing the saru.

Sanzo-sama was a cold-hearted bastard, after all, it seemed.

Thoroughly depressed but hiding it perfectly behind a mask of indifference, Sanzo strode back inside the temple gates.

“God, it’s not even raining. Cut yourself some slack with that expression, Sanzo, you might break something.”

“Urusai, you goddamn bakaza—” Sanzo froze mid-stomp, disbelief coursing through every cell of his body.

After two long, quiet, lonely years…

He turned slowly to find Goku—Son Goku, who he’d saved from a mountainside cave—lounging in the peach tree, munching absently on an offering to the Merciful Goddess. Goku was smiling slightly, dressed in plain black pants and a simple sleeveless black Chinese shirt with ordinary black shoes. He wore, in place of the large diadem, a thin but intricate circlet of woven silver and gold with a red stone set firmly but delicately in the center. His hair was slightly longer, curling onto his cheekbones. Two swords hung off him, one on his back, the other on his hip.

Sanzo’s brain refused to work, much less his mouth.

Goku’s smile grew slightly, warm and friendly and still young, but…wiser. Accepting. A little sad.

Grown up.

At least a little.

Goku leapt lightly from the tree and faced his caretaker, the man who was as close to a father as a child of the earth could hope for. He took a deep breath and laughed a little. “Ne, Sanzo…tadaema.”

I’m back.

And Sanzo, swallowing hard, gave in return a small smile of his own.

“Okairi nasai, Goku.”

Welcome home.

- The End -

AN: O.o Well, there you have it. I have a sequel in mind, a chapter fic that has more to due with Goku’s…siblings? Whatever you’d call them. Has a plot and everything. Ask and ye shall receive. ^_^
Did you get the songs? They were both in the last letter…
Thanks for your time!
R&R&Show you care.
-Angel Baby

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