[Generic Disclaimer: Saiyuki and all the affiliated
characters are copyright to Kazuya Minekura. No
profit has or will be made off of this fiction.]
===
~Illness Illusion~
Summary:
(Goku+Konzen
and Sanzo/Goku) Tolerance isn't quite
the same as acceptance, and Sanzo finds himself struggling on the thin line
between.
Warnings:
PG-13; slight AU, weirdness, some language
Notes:
I'm not sure what I was trying to do with this one, except
maybe portray a bit more of what the early relationship between Sanzo and Goku
may have been like. It must have been strange, especially since Sanzo had to
get used to Goku. I'd think he'd have a lot more doubts about keeping the kid
than most people would assume.
===
It was more because he was an extremely light sleeper than anything else. He
wasn't perceptive to dangerous or new auras, but he could catch even the
slightest of sounds in his sleep. He lay still for a moment, listening to the
sliding door gently close before the footsteps began. They were unusually heavy
and slow, as though the intruder was dragging his feet across the floor. Gentle
scraping accompanied the sound.
Sanzo rolled over on his side, but not before a smaller body fairly
collapsed against him, scrambling into his bed. "Hey... get out," he
hissed in the darkness, hand already on the intruder's forehead. Rather than
skin he simply felt a cold ring of metal beneath rumpled hair.
"Nnngh," came
the gurgled response. Rough hands scrambled over the priest's body, desperate
to cling to something.
Irritated, Sanzo shoved harder. "Get out. What the hell's wrong with
you?" Another push and his hand slid as the intruder nearly rolled right
out of the bed. Sanzo's bare fingers brushed skin, and it burned. Startled, he
pressed his hand closer to the hot face beside him. It was a reflex, an
unintentional movement, and it had a much undesired effect. Annoyingly strong
arms were thrown around his neck, and a face pressed into his collar.
"Don't feel good," the unnecessary mumble came, muffled by Sanzo's
shirt. He sighed heavily.
"Well, don't crawl into my bed, bakazaru.
You'll get me sick, too."
"Bed's cold." The voice was unusually raspy, now that Sanzo
bothered to really listen. "Lotsa
blankets and s'really cold. Don't like
it."
I'd imagine not, Sanzo thought dryly, giving up on pushing the boy
away. It wasn't that he had given in, just that the brat's grip was far too
strong. Somehow, Goku seemed stronger when he was ill than otherwise. Or
perhaps it was just his grip, desperately tight, as though Sanzo would slip
through his fingers while the boy's head was in such a fuzzy state.
"Head hurts," Goku continued, shifting so that Sanzo could hear
him better. "Kinda like when you hit me, but
harder... behind my eyes..."
Why couldn't he just have stayed in bed? How long had he been awake? How the
hell had he gotten sick this time? They were questions Sanzo wanted to ask, but
right then he couldn't make it so that Goku wouldn't mistake it for concern.
They had only known each other literally for a couple months, but already the
idiot was determined to attach himself to his savior. Sanzo had tried
everything, from beating him with the fan to insulting him to just about every
form of abuse that wasn't fatal or sexual, but none of them had deterred the
boy.
"Sometimes s'hot, like when I left th'mountain for the first time and felt the sun..."
Sanzo remembered. Goku had fallen ill then as well, not used to the weather
being anywhere above lukewarm. If he really had been locked in that cave for
five hundred years, it was no wonder.
"But now s'cold again.
Don't like it."
Sanzo shifted, attempting to roll over into a more comfortable position.
Goku's arms were firmly locked around his neck, and it was starting to hurt on
top of it being inconvenient and annoying. He reached up to attempt to pry off
the vise-like grip, but Goku's next comment made him pause.
"But then... I don't mind."
Sanzo frowned, fingers curled around strong wrists. He didn't exert any
pressure just yet. "Don't mind what?"
"Being sick." Goku's words were beginning
to slur. "Because... I can do this... an' it won't be all
my fault... an' you're warmer than the bed..."
Sanzo suddenly tugged violently. "Get off," he snarled, shoving at
the boy with his knee. Goku winced. "Get out!"
"Konzen..."
The foreign name did nothing to put Sanzo at ease. "Do I look like a
Konzen to you?!"
Goku tightened his grip, not seeming to realize he was dangerously close to
choking his keeper. "The sun always looks like you," he said, voice
stronger with sudden stubbornness.
Right then Sanzo realized how light Goku's voice was; strange and childlike,
as though he weren't a young teenager but a little boy. And the Konzen he was
muttering about... well, it wasn't the first time Sanzo had heard the name. The
last and only other time Goku had been sick he had also called Sanzo that,
refusing to remember his name. It was disturbing, especially since Goku would
have no recollection of anything in the morning. He wouldn't even remember
feeling sick.
The kid had to be delusional. With a grunt, Sanzo finally managed to jerk
the boy's arms away from his neck. Using Goku's surprise to his advantage, he
used what little leverage he had to push on the boy's arms, which were still
locked into position, not having any time to relax. Goku toppled back, rolling
off the bed and landing with a too-loud thud on the floor. Sanzo was
panting softly from the brief struggle, but he quickly recovered. It would be
bad for Goku to see him vulnerable at all; there was no guarantee he wouldn't
remember this episode in the morning.
When no whining or fidgeting sounded to let Sanzo know the kid was still
alive, he reluctantly pushed himself up to peer over the edge of the bed. He
just wanted to be sure Goku was unconscious, so he could lie down and go back
to sleep.
That was a mistake.
The moment Goku came into view he launched up, scrambling onto Sanzo's lap.
His time his arms went around the man's midsection. Sanzo growled; his
movements were too quick and strong for someone who was supposed to be sick. If
Goku's face wasn't so flushed with fever, or slightly damp with sweat, or if
his body wasn't shivering uncontrollably, Sanzo would have said the boy wasn't
sick at all.
Damn it all. If this continued, it would go on all night until one of them
passed out from sheer exhaustion. That wasn't exactly Sanzo's idea of a
pleasant outcome, so he rolled his eyes and eased himself back down, one arm
beneath his head to avoid touching the boy. Goku didn't seem to mind; he sighed
contentedly, arms going lax.
Sanzo knew better than to try to kick him out again. Once he moved, Goku's
grip would just tighten again. The annoying, stubborn, stupid brat just didn't
know when to give up. Once he had his fan, regardless of whether Goku was still
sick or not, Sanzo was going to hit him severely for this.
Goku hummed softly. "Nice like this... Konzen..."
Debating on whether or not to answer, Sanzo spoke before he realized what he
was doing. "I'm not Konzen."
A little groan escaped the boy's lips. "Not nice... to tease me... when'm sick, Konzen..."
It simply wasn't going to get through. Sanzo sighed in exasperation, tugging
on Goku's arms without expecting any real results. "You ought to sleep in
your own bed when you're sick, bakazaru."
Though his arms encircled the man possessively, Goku's body was otherwise
lax. He grunted in response, unable to form a real answer.
Sanzo frowned. Even in his delusional state, Goku had responded to the name
Sanzo preferred to use. Was it actually possible this Konzen person, like
Sanzo, had also taken to insulting the boy? If that was the case, Sanzo could
see a bit why Goku would mistake him for whoever this other entity was. But
then that didn't explain everything; for all he knew, Konzen was really his
opposite.
"Humor me, Goku," he said quietly. "What's Konzen like?"
Goku's chest rose and fell with deep, if not a bit uneven and shaky,
breathing; Sanzo momentarily thought the kid had fallen asleep, but Goku did
answer, even though it was in mumbled, exhausted fragments. "Acts mean...
hits me... yells... gets so mad... so scary when he's mad..." Glancing
down, Sanzo was surprised to see a small smile on Goku's lips. "... but...
so pretty... an' he takes care of me... an'... gave
me... m'name..."
Discomfort made Sanzo's chest tight. Too much of it sounded similar to him,
far too much. Whoever this Konzen person was, it seemed that he had taken care
of the boy before Sanzo had found him, and if Goku had really been imprisoned
for five hundred years...
There was no need to worry too much about it. Whoever it was, he was long
dead by now.
For some reason, the thought send cold chills down Sanzo's spine.
Goku noted his shivering. "Konzen...?"
"Shut up. Go to sleep."
He must have, because there was no speaking for a long time into the night.
When Sanzo finally fell asleep, he was too deeply disturbed to have a peaceful
rest. When he woke up early the next morning, it felt like he had only slept a
couple minutes. Sanzo was exhausted and cranky before even climbing out of bed.
This proved to still be impossible.
During the night Goku's grip had loosened, but when Sanzo moved to slide
out, one hand automatically reached out and grasped the monk's shirt firmly.
Sanzo tried to wrench the hand loose, but Goku groaned hoarsely in return,
sounding so pathetic Sanzo lost the will to pry him off. Damn his weakness, if
you could.
Reluctantly, he rested his hand against the boy's face. His fever hadn't
gone down much; Sanzo was lucky he hadn't caught the cold overnight. He briefly
considered his two main options: leave him alone and wait until he got better
on his own, or take care of the brat. The latter was not preferable, though it
was more appealing when Sanzo remembered the last time Goku had been sick and
he'd left him alone. Somehow, even without going outside, Goku had managed to
make himself sicker before Sanzo had finally caved in
and taken care of him.
Damn monkey, he thought in annoyance, dislodging Goku's hand. He's
more baggage than I need.
Goku's eyes opened blearily at the loss of contact. "Kon... zen...?"
And he was still delusional. Perfect; that was just what Sanzo needed. He
sighed heavily, feeling the burden weighing down on his shoulders already.
"Go back to sleep, bakazaru."
"Nnnghmm," Goku mumbled unintelligibly,
squirming beneath the covers. "Where're you going?"
"I'll be right back," Sanzo said reluctantly. When the boy didn't
close his eyes, he added with irritation, "I'm not abandoning you, if
that's what you're thinking. You're in my bed, you know."
"Mmhm." Smiling
faintly, Goku finally went lax. He was asleep before Sanzo finished getting
changed and left the room.
Reflecting back on what he'd said made Sanzo grimace. He sounded too...
caring. He was projecting the wrong image, making it no wonder Goku clung to
him, whether consciously or subconsciously.
Not like it matters, he thought irritably. The idiot can't take a
hint anyway...
Why was he doing this to himself?
[~:.:~]
Despite his earlier promise, it was nearly evening by the time Sanzo
returned. Looking at the boy passed out, still sprawled all over his bed, he
felt a vein twitch in his forehead, and any thought of feeling even remotely
guilty vanished.
He strode over to the bed, managed to find a loose end of the sheets, and
tugged so viciously that Goku nearly flew off the bed. "Wake up," he
said unnecessarily.
Groaning wordlessly, the boy clutched at his head, peering up at Sanzo with
bleary golden eyes. Hidden behind his glare, Sanzo carefully observed him,
noting that the fevered flush had faded a bit; Goku's moves weren't quite as
lethargic, indicating the long nap had done him some good.
"S'matter?"
Coldly, Sanzo said, "I'm not letting you sleep in my bed. Sleep in your
own."
Goku stared at him, not seeming to comprehend the words. Slowly, very
slowly, his gaze drifted to the door, then back to Sanzo. Something akin to
understanding finally flickered in his eyes, and he slowly moved to pick
himself up. Sanzo watched critically, bracing to defend himself should the boy
decide to try to cling to him again.
Goku half walked, half stumbled to the door. Mildly surprised, Sanzo's eyes
followed him, not trusting the boy. Goku got to the door, and still Sanzo
watched him. The door slid open, and Sanzo continued to glare. When it slid
shut at last, he felt something loosen up inside of him. He dropped the
blankets to the floor, feeling more tired and relieved than he wanted to admit.
The door slammed open.
Something had left the boy's pose; he stood straighter, glaring defiantly
despite his obvious fatigue. Sanzo quickly recovered his dignity; if Goku
noticed the slip, it wouldn't have been for more than a fraction of a second.
Matching glare for glare, Sanzo said evenly, "What now?"
"Not gonna sleep where it's
so cold," Goku retorted, shutting the door behind him and collapsing where
he stood, curling into a ball on the ground. "S'warmer in here."
Damn it.
Sanzo considered kicking him. It would, after all, be only what the
persistent brat deserved, and maybe relieve some of the stress that always
seemed to linger whenever Goku was around. Honestly, he'd never asked the
boy to follow him, and the gods only knew why Sanzo continued to put up with
him. Most of the time even he didn't understand. All Sanzo knew was that every
time he considered seriously throwing Goku out, something would stop him: a
weak excuse, a disturbingly heavy feeling (guilt, maybe? He hadn't been able to
identify it yet), or even just Goku's pathetically childlike, stupid gaze that
reminded him so much of the look the boy had given him when they had first met
on the mountain. Whatever it was, Sanzo could never muster up what was needed
to get rid of the boy. Perhaps he was some sort of masochist, since all Goku
ever did was cause him headaches.
By the time all that had passed through his mind, he'd lost the will to kick
him. Sighing, Sanzo said, "Don't expect to get the blankets just because
you want to sleep on the floor."
"Don't need 'em," Goku mumbled, turning
his face into the crook of his elbow. "Warm enough right here."
Idiot, thought Sanzo, unable to help but feel annoyed at Goku's sheer
stupidity. It was so pathetic it almost dredged up sympathy, and had Sanzo been
any weaker than he was, it may have worked. As it was, he only felt irritated.
He hated being shown up by a child.
Perhaps there just something in the boy that made him feel
a twinge of wistfulness. Not a lot, just enough to make him think about how
different his own childhood could have been. His master had died when Sanzo had
been only thirteen; he had grown up with Koumyou
Sanzo for nearly all those thirteen years.
Looking at Goku he couldn't be more than... what, ten years old? Sanzo
suddenly wondered if he had lived with that Konzen person his whole life, and
if so, how old had Goku been when he'd lost him? He shook the questions from
his mind; they were useless when he didn't plan on knowing the boy for too
long. Maybe he didn't have what it took to get rid of Goku now, but he would
eventually, hopefully sometime soon.
And if he wanted to do that, he couldn't afford to show any affection, no
matter how slight. That was why he hit the boy; that was why he constantly
found reason to call him names, to curse and yell at him, do whatever it took
to show that he wanted Goku out of his life.
So why wasn't it working?
Despite his stubborn insistence that he was warm, Goku shivered on the
floor. Sanzo noted the clench in his jaw, as though he was determined to keep
as much of his suffering hidden to Sanzo as possible. Obviously, he didn't know
the priest well at all, didn't realize that Sanzo was far more observant than
most others.
Then again, maybe he did and was using that to his advantage, cleverly
acting brave so as to earn Sanzo's trust, his companionship, his admiration...
something. Sanzo wasn't so sure Goku was smart enough to pull something like
that off, but he knew as well as anyone else that appearances were very
deceiving.
In spite of himself, Sanzo found he was reaching
for the sheets on his bed, untangling them from the knot Goku had somehow
managed to tie them in just by sleeping in them. Wordlessly, carelessly, he
dropped them on the boy's pathetically shivering form.
Goku glanced up, surprise shining through the weariness in his eyes. Sanzo
glared, daring him to say anything, and Goku seemed to understand. With a tiny
smile, he pulled the sheets around himself, closing his eyes and seeming to
fall into a fairly peaceful slumber.
Realizing he was staring, Sanzo quickly looked away, striding to the window
so he could light a cigarette. Time and time again, his gaze was drawn back to
the boy on his floor, close enough to the door that anyone that may try to
barge in would trip.
Uneasily flicking ashes from the end of his cigarette, Sanzo's free hand
came up to tangle in his hair as he breathed a sigh of frustration. As much as
he tried to think about it, he couldn't see how or when he could possibly get
rid of Goku. The more he tried to imagine the temple calm and quiet without
him, the more it became impossible to see. It made him uneasy.
... What the hell's wrong with me?
[~:.:~]
[~owari~]