The author doesn't own Saiyuki or any of its characters.

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Remembering by GW Katrina

Celebrations still happened every year, praising the names of those who helped defeat Gyumaoh. It helped that half those saved by the Sanzo party were long lived demons, and that years of death and fear lead people to party every chance they could.

The surviving members tended to avoid the public on the anniversary of their great triumph, but that never stopped the large number of cosplayers that wanted to dress as their heroes. So blond monks, green-clad monocle wearers, red heads with scars, and diadem wearers with long sticks were everywhere.

That was one of the reasons that the man decided he had made a mistake. Too many people dressed up, almost worshiping some very mortal people. Plus the wave of good cheer made him want to shoot something. Only the free-flowing drinks and the fact that nobody recognized him kept him at his seat.

After being bumped by yet another drunken “Goku,” he found himself once again itching to pull his gun. A habit several people had tried to break him of. Goku wasn’t one of them. The demon said that it would be easier to take on the Bull King again.

Yet another thing that irritated him. None of these people really knew the group. All they had were the tales they themselves had heard second hand. Or what the monks had released to the public.

None of them knew what their “saviors” had sacrificed.

Idly, he wondered how many people knew what had happened to their heroes. Did any of them?

Oh, almost everyone knew that Yaone and Hakkai had bonded. Romantics still gushed about it. Two lovers who were forced to fight one another till the end, when they were finally allowed to join forces.

But how many knew they took care of Gojyo?

The redhead had almost made it through the final battle intact. Then he had stepped between Sanzo and an attack by Gyumaoh. The sword strike hadn’t killed the half demon, but it had broken something. Something that had gone too long unnoticed in the heat of battle.

Gojyo was healing, slowly. There were times he was aware of who he was, of the people who surrounded him. Those periods were slowly growing longer and more frequent. But there were still far too many times that he thought they were still on the journey, or a childish mind controlled that powerful adult body. That was when Yaone and Hakkai waited patiently. After all, what was a half-century in the life of a demon?

Doku never saw his brother’s blight. He had been the first to fall, taking Gyumaoh’s mad mistress with him. There was a shrine erected to the fallen, and Doku had the dubious honor of being the first one listed.

Kougaiji vanished after the fight. Nobody knew where he had gone to. The last time anyone had seen him was when he gave a limp Sanzo to Goku, then walked away. Lirin had been frantic, and spent years searching for her brother. Even losing her sight in one eye didn’t slow her down. She finally returned and moved in with her friend, Goku.

As for Sanzo and Goku….

When Kougaiji had left, he had given Goku an unconscious Sanzo. The monk had used all five Sutras in order to contain Gyumaoh, and it was more than a human could stand. Sanzo had slowly faded over the next week. The only person he would allow near him was Goku, the one being that Sanzo truly trusted. They had been inseparable that week. Everyone had known when Sanzo died. A howl of loss told everyone, and only a few were able to see Goku as he ran into the darkness.

Months had past before the demon had reappeared, showing up on Hakkai’s doorstep. It had been immediately obvious that something was different, but Hakkai was unsure of what it was. Only when Goku had put the dark haired man’s hand on his stomach did he figure it out.

“Excuse me, Sir?”

Startled from his thoughts, the man looked up. The waitress blinked as he peered up at her, eyes framed by blonde bangs. Those eyes were storms. A deep purple, they were shot by gold streaks, like lightening through clouds.

“Yes?”

“Um, I was just wondering if you needed anything, um, sir.”

“Koumyou. Son Koumyou.”

“Son Koumyou? Any relation to Son Goku?”

A slightly sad smile crossed Koumyou’s face. “Yes. On my mother’s side.” He winked at her, something he had picked up from his Uncle Gojyo. “Bring me another beer, please.”

The polite request earned him a bright smile and not one, but two beers. He knew that she would be bragging that she served one of Goku’s relatives, but that was all right. Not many knew the truth. Not that he could blame them. The only way one could tell his heritage was to see him next to his parent. He had gotten most of his coloring from Goku, with only the blond hair and violet eyes inherited from his father.

Goku was different. He was no ordinary demon, something most people weren’t aware of. They didn’t know that he was a child of the earth, hatched from a stone egg. And as an Earthchild, he had inherited several things from her.

Including the ability to bear young.

Foe some strange reason, Yaone and Hakkai enjoyed telling Koumyou the story of his birth. They did it often enough. He had eventually decided it was caused by two things. One, a true appreciation for the unusual. And, two, the fact they had no idea if he could get pregnant. It was possible that Goku had passed the ability on.

Hakkai had lost many things to the fight against Gyumaoh. So, when he discovered Goku’s condition, he refused to let the young man leave. Not that Goku fought. He had changed with Sanzo’s death. Something seemed to shadow him, almost. Part of him had died with Sanzo, leaving a quieter, calmer version.

One who was ferociously protective of a growing belly.

This was his last gift from Sanzo. A tiny life, growing inside. Goku still enjoyed embarrassing Koumyou with ‘while I was pregnant’ stories.

When the time came, most of the survivors came. They were family, bound together by ties of blood stronger than any created by birth. The birth was difficult, as Hakkai and Yaone had been forced to cut Goku open. Between Goku’s natural healing and Hakkai’s power, the man was back up in days, so he was barely even slowed down.

Everyone told Koumyou there was never a doubt about his other father. Even if Goku hadn’t been totally devoted to Sanzo, the baby had been born with a thick patch of white-blond hair and gold-threaded purple eyes. There had been some surprise that he hadn’t been born with the typical crimson birthmark of half-breeds. Nobody looked unhappy, though.

Goku had had a name picked out since he had discovered his condition. The name of Sanzo’s beloved master.

Son Koumyou.

Many years had passed since that time. Gojyo was starting to truly heal, something both Yaone and Hakkai were both waiting for. Goku and Lirin were acting odd, tilting their heads once in a while, as if trying to catch a faint sound. Sometimes, Koumyou found himself doing it as well. It was just the barest hint of noise, more a faint tug. And every time it happened, his father and Aunt Lirin both acted more like they had in the stories he had been raised on.

Tonight, that tug was silent. Koumyou had taken the chance to slip away. Something was about to change, he could feel it.

And those who celebrated around him knew nothing.

Morons.

- The End -

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