Gensomaden Saiyuki Fan Fiction / Saiyuki Reload Fan Fiction / Saiyuki Reload Gunlock Fan Fiction ❯ Change of Seasons ❯ Change of Seasons ( Chapter 1 )

This is my first Sanzo/Goku fic, written for a friend of mine who recently declared herself a raging Sanzo fan. I found it incredibly hard to write - I'm really not the biggest Sanzo fan in the world.

This ended up being way longer than I intended since I had to really work at it. I decided that I had to get inside Sanzo's head (a scary place to be!) to make this one work…hence it requires some formatting explanations.

Anything in brackets are Sanzo's thoughts…if the text is also in quotations (`') that means it's a memory.

Some of Sanzo's “memories” are direct quotations from the manga - so obviously I didn't write those myself, and all necessary disclaimers apply to this work…Saiyuki belongs to Kazuya Minekura, ect.

I'm poor, no suing please!

 

Change of Seasons- by Theskywasblue

 

(Someone tell me…just when did it all change?)

It had to be sometime after the battle, as they turned away from the ruined tower, away from an ever-setting sun towards an ever-rising one.

(New beginnings…)

For once Goku didn't whine about being hungry, Gojyo didn't try and start a fight, and Hakkai - as always - smiled, but it was real.

That night Hakkai and Gojyo traded languid kisses in the shadows beyond the campfire while Goku slept and Sanzo tried really, really hard to pretend that he didn't notice.

(Get a room dammit!)

The temple was the same as when they had left, except there were more novices, (aspiring Sanzos, each and every one of them), and more pilgrims, (`It's such an honour to meet you Master Sanzo')

It seemed like everything was set to go back to the way it had been before - but somehow that never quite happened.

There was paperwork as always, and visits to the Three Aspects, and lectures to give, and novices to discipline - but his feet began to itch and he polished his gun until he thought the chrome might dissolve, and lived in memories of a journey while he sat outside the temple smoking and sending paper airplanes drifting lazily across the courtyard.

But Goku never complained.

(And just what happened to that half-feral boy who always caused me so much trouble, climbing on the temple roof, eating the sacred peaches and swimming in the koi pond?)

Somehow, he wasn't a boy anymore.

 

One day in summer, about a year after the return from the west, Hakkai and Gojyo showed up at the temple. They'd bought a house in the village, they wore rings on their fingers, and they smiled and laughed and touched.

(Just like that…they're happy)

That was the same day that Goku insisted he wanted to learn to write.

(Just when did he become an academic?)

Sanzo said they could use his study (`why not, I hardly ever use it anymore'); Hakkai brought armloads of children's books and a handheld slate; and for weeks Sanzo and Gojyo would sit in the courtyard playing Mah-jong while the lessons went on inside. It was almost like old times, except that Gojyo didn't smoke anymore because Hakkai had somehow convinced him that it wasn't healthy.

(`And just when did domestic bliss become part of your life's plan?' `Dunno man - it just sorta happened.')

 

Autumn spun through its motions and became winter in the blink of an eye.

 

“Hey!” Goku wiped clumps of wet snow from his outraged face, “Stupid cockroach kappa! That one had a piece of ice in it!”

Gojyo stuck one hand out from behind the shelter of the peach tree where he was hiding, making a crude gesture, “Up yours chimp! The last one you threw of me had a twig in it!”

A volley of snowballs struck the tree a fraction of an inch from Gojyo's head. The half-demon recoiled in surprise, and Goku took the opportunity to launch himself around the tree and knock the older man to the ground.

A group of novices clustered on a nearby walkway whispered amongst themselves, scandalized as Goku and Gojyo wrestled in the snow, cursing loud enough for all the gods to hear.

(`That boy is a pest. Why did Priest Sanzo pick up such a degenerate in the first place?')

“We need more tea,” the sound of Sanzo's voice sent the novices jumping away like terrified rabbits.

“Yes Master Sanzo, right away!”

(Should tell them to get the hell back to work - always slacking off when there are chores to do…)

Hakkai laughed, sipping his tea, “It seems like nothing has changed at all, doesn't it?”

“You're wrong…”

Hakkai gave him a curious look, and for whatever reason, he felt the need to explain.

“Goku…”

“Ah,” Hakkai nodded, “He has come a long way from the little boy who was afraid to go out in the snow ne?”

(`All th' white that never ended. I was locked up all that pretty, pretty white; a world with only me. I was just…I was just…scared.')

“It must be scary to think that he might not need you anymore.”

Sanzo tensed, “Don't put words in my mouth dammit.”

Hakkai laughed, “It's called `cutting the apron strings' Sanzo. You'll get through it.”

(What do I care if that dumb monkey needs me?)

A snowball cut the air within inches of Hakkai's shoulder, thumping wetly against the wall of the temple.

“Excuse me Gojyo,” Hakkai laid his teacup carefully aside, speaking patiently, as if to an unruly child, “Sanzo and I are trying to have a conversation.”

“Enough chit-chat,” Gojyo tossed a snowball casually in one hand, “time for a snowball fight.”

Sanzo glared at him, although he knew well enough that Gojyo was completely immune to his scathing looks after so many years, “You need a snowball down your pants ka…”

A snowball struck his face and exploded like a freezing bomb, chunks of half-frozen snow flying everywhere.

“You goddamn stupid chimp!” Sanzo bellowed, leaping to his feet and pushing his soaked hair out of his eyes, “What the hell do you think you're doing?!”

But Goku didn't have enough air in his lungs to reply, he was laughing too hard. Gojyo and Hakkai were doubled over in fits of laughter as well, the sound of their mockery ringing through the otherwise silent winter air.

(Bastards…)

“You're all dead…”

By the time they were done, all the fresh white snow in the courtyard was trampled flat. Sanzo slumped beneath the peach tree, breathless and soaked, the hem of his robes clumped together with wet snow. Gojyo dropped a handful of snow down the back of Goku's shirt and laughed while the youth tore around the courtyard screaming at the top of his lungs.

“Well,” Hakkai straightened his glasses and brushed snow off the front of his coat, “I think it's time for us to be on our way home.”

“Nooo…” Goku whined, “Stay for dinner! Sanzo, tell them to stay!”

(Dimwit doesn't have a clue…can't he see?)

Gojyo had an arm around Hakkai's waist, pulling him unnecessarily close, whispering something in his ear that made a strange smile play at the edges of Hakkai's lips.

(How many times do I have to tell them to get a damn room?)

“Let them go monkey.”

“Aww…but…” Goku's lower lip, soft and pink, hovered dangerously close to pouting.

(`It sucks here Sanzo! I don't wanna be alone!')

“Don't worry your thick little head monkey,” Gojyo tussled the younger man's hair, making him growl in protest, “next time you and the Holy Roller can come down to our place and have sukiyaki.”

When they were gone, Goku came and towered over Sanzo, his face flushed and streaked with melted snow, flakes tangled in his auburn hair.

(He's growing it long again)

The thin ponytail hanging down between his shoulder blades swung merrily as he shook his head to chase the snow away, and offered Sanzo a hand to help him up.

“Che…” Sanzo batted the hand away, straining his eyes as he looked up. Goku's shadow loomed, massive against the pale blue sky, “When did you get so tall?”

There it was, that stupefied look in Goku's eyes, same as ever - or was there something different glittering in those amber depths - Amusement maybe?

“Dunno - just happened I guess.”

He dropped into the snow at Sanzo's side, panting and half-laughing. Sanzo shivered, though not from the chill in the air.

“What are you laughing about?”

Goku shrugged, “I was just wonderin' when you'd notice - that's all.”

(Why would he care if I noticed?)

“Look Sanzo - pretty…”

A single white bird was cutting a path low across the blue sky.

(`Tell me Kouryuu - who decided that the birds are free? Do you not think they would come to loathe their wings if they had no home to return to?')

 

(Boring…Pointless…Waste of time…)

Disgusted, Sanzo folded his newspaper and tossed it onto the floor, wrapping his robes more tightly around himself against the damp chill which permeated the temple and made his breath form a thin mist in the air.

The damn space heater obviously wasn't working.

He glared at the offending machine and nudged it with one sandaled toe.

(This is bullshit.)

It was just too damn quiet.

(Where the hell is that damned monkey?)

It wasn't that he needed, or even wanted the company; but if it was quiet, that meant Goku had to be up to something…something that would cause trouble for him later.

His violet eyes fell on the empty corner where Goku's futon had once lain.

(`You have your own damned room monkey; go the hell away.' `Please Sanzo…I'll be quiet…I jus' - it sucks being alone…it's scary.')

Frustrated anger was Genjyo Sanzo's last refuge from soul-crushing boredom and the shivering darkness of memory.

When he stormed into Goku's room, he found the young monkey king sitting as peacefully as anything on the floor with his back against his bed.

“Hey Sanzo - somethin' the matter?” He looked up at him with those same perplexed golden eyes he had always had.

(He's wearing jeans - nothing but a damned pair of jeans in the freezing…)

“Hey - why the hell is it so warm in here?”

“Space heater,” Goku gestured to the faintly humming box in the room's far corner, “Hakkai gave it to me.”

With a disgusted grunt, Sanzo shut the door and stalked over to the bed, lighting up a cigarette as he sat down. Goku didn't object to being disturbed, he simply went back to the large, hard-covered book cradled in his lap.
(So where is the unbearable, infantile beast that always begged for my attention?)

“What's with the book monkey?”

(`I'm not a monkey! What'd ya say that for?')

Goku shrugged his shoulders, “Hakkai lent it to me. It's pretty good. You can read it when I'm done.”

“Che - I don't have time to read dumb story books.”

A look of hurt passed momentarily over his face, “Okay…if you say so.”

Goku stood up and moved across the room, putting the book away inside the small trunk that held his clothes and his few other worldly possessions.

(Just what happened to you Goku? How did I never notice you becoming so…)

Mature, confident, poised…

(Beautiful…)

The thought startled Sanzo, and he chased it away with a startled grunt, accidentally biting down on the filter of his cigarette.

“Do you wanna play cards Sanzo?” Goku's skin shone in the lamplight, his hand extended, beckoning.

“No,” Sanzo nearly jumped from the bed, nearly ran for the door. The cold was better.

 

Another lecture. More paperwork. More fools looking for blessings that wouldn't change anything.

Sanzo almost longed for another task from the Three Aspects - one that would get him away for the temple for a few days - anything to put some distance between himself and the snivelling novices and the acolytes who wouldn't stop insisting that he find an apprentice and pass on his teachings.

(`I don't really consider myself qualified to pass on teachings Kouryuu - but I do make pretty good airplanes.')

“Master Sanzo!”

He froze with his hand on the sliding door to his chambers. The vein in his temple gave an irritated throb.

(What the hell is it now?)

“What?” He snarled.

“I have a message for you from the boy.”

(The boy?)

“You mean Goku?”

The red-faced novice nodded happily, “He's gone down to the village to visit your old companions…”

“Hakkai and Gojyo?”

Again, more nodding.

(He looks like one of those damned bobble-headed toys.)

“He asked me to inform you that he'll be back in time for dinner.”

“Whatever.”

He was going to go to his room, relax a bit, have a smoke - but he suddenly felt the need to leave the temple.

(I'm not going after the monkey. I just need to walk.)

 

“Yo man,” Gojyo answered the door in the most ridiculous hand-knitted sweater Sanzo had ever seen (Hakkai probably made it for him), with his long red hair tied back in a ponytail. Something spicy was cooking in the kitchen, the smell wafted out through the door, “you here to collect your pet? You should keep him on a leash or something.”

Sanzo pushed past him into the house.

“Hey! Aren't you going to say `I humbly intrude'?”

“You're intruding on my patience.”

An enormous pot of stew was bubbling on the stove, but the house was otherwise silent.

“Where are Goku and Hakkai?”

Gojyo dropped down in a chair in the adjoining living room and put his feet up on the coffee table. He looked irritatingly comfortable and at home, “Out back…having some `top secret' conversation. Even I'm not allowed to listen in. Do me a favour and get the chimp out of here. We have a full night ahead of us.”

Sanzo shuddered, “Next time, keep that information to yourself.”

Gojyo just shrugged as Sanzo headed for the back door.

With his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. He could hear voices outside.

“Sanzo told me once that he could hear my voice…that's how he knew to find me, inside that cave.”

(`Are you the one who's been calling me?' `I haven't been calling anyone' `You're lying. I've heard you all this time.')

Sanzo had to strain his ears to hear Hakkai's response.

“I remember you saying that before.”

“Yeah but…I don't think that he can hear me anymore…maybe I should just stop.”

Sanzo left the house without Goku and walked back up the road to the temple.

(It's not that I can't hear…I can't listen…I can't.)

That was what he had been taught, to hold nothing; he had promised himself, sworn on the spilled blood of his master…
(I will never care for anyone else again so much that I cannot bear to lose them…)

That was how it would always have to be.

That was the one teaching that he was not going to ignore.

Even if (Even though) he wanted to.

 

The winter ran away in icy rivulets, transforming into spring rain that thundered down the gutters and left the choking heat of summer in its wake.

 

It seemed to Sanzo that he and Goku were drifting apart.

(I don't understand…Why do I care?)

Goku spent more and more time in the village with Gojyo and Hakkai, and Sanzo's duties kept him secluded in the temple for days at a time.

But on occasion there would be a sign of what had been before.

(What could have been - can't be)

Goku would bring him dinner in his room, tea in his study, sit for hours at his side just reading a book, tell a stupid joke or make some inane comment just to get his attention.

(Why do I care? I don't. I can't.)

But he did.

 

Spring had proved that the temple was in dire need of repairs, and for once Goku made effective use of his acrobatic skills balancing on the roof, replacing the dozens of cracked and broken tiles. The sun turned his skin deep bronze and the work added a healthy layer of muscle to his lean frame. His ponytail hung all the way to his slender hips.

Try as he might, Sanzo could not help but notice Goku, every time they were in the same room, every time they passed one another in the temple corridors; couldn't help but notice the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the flow of his lips as he spoke, the sway of his hips and shoulders as he walked.

He was almost certain that Goku was starting to notice all the attention.

(This has to stop…before one of us loses our mind…or something worse)

Desperate, he had even gone so far as to try and get Hakkai's advice - subtly.

(`What do you think…about muichimotsu?' `Hold nothing? A problematic philosophy.')

Problematic - he knew that, all too well.

(What am I supposed to do? My hands are full just taking care of myself.)

“I'm done Sanzo,” Goku leapt down from the roof as casually, fearlessly as stepping down from a stool. Sanzo's heart sped into his throat, although he should have been used to Goku's feats of casual daring. Goku came and sat on to the walkway next to him, putting his hand accidentally (on purpose) on top of Sanzo's own, causing Sanzo to flinch and pull away.

“Waddya want monkey, a medal?”

Goku stood and walked away without responding. He didn't even look back - it seemed that Goku hardly ever looked at him anymore.

(I'm losing him, I know it - and I can't - I'm so damn weak)

It had always been there, in the back of his mind, that quiet, subversive fear of losing Goku - the only thing that kept him human; kept him sane (threatened to break my sanity). Now it was happening, he was losing Goku not to a demon and not to a sword, but to his own stupid inability (unwillingness) to hold on.

(Hold nothing)

But he couldn't. He needed something…

(`You know Sanzo - if you're unwilling to hold on - you could be swept away in the current')

The summer night was silent but for the far off sound of running water.

 

“Sanzo?”

(`His…incessantly aggravating voice wouldn't stop calling me.')

Goku hesitated in the doorway, confused, uncertain. It was comforting, in a strange way, to see that range of emotions run through his eyes - it gave Sanzo hope that the young man hadn't changed that much after all.

The towel wrapped around Goku's waist that was far too small, barely preserving his already questionable modesty, displaying the full length of his muscled torso and a nearly obscene amount of thigh to the point where Sanzo could make out the tan line on his skin. His auburn hair lay heavy around his shoulders, water running off the tips and forming a puddle around his feet.

“You're dripping on the floor monkey.”

“Ooops…”

He darted across the room to grab his clothes from where they sat on the bed next to Sanzo, but as he reached out, Sanzo seized his wrist.

Goku's eyes widened in surprise, “Sanzo - what…”

“Shut up.”

Goku flinched, and a tiny tremor of guilt ran through Sanzo's chest. He let go. Goku took a step back, without claiming his clothes.

“Did you…want something Sanzo?”

(You)

The swell of desire in his chest was suffocating; but his voice stayed trapped in his throat. Goku waited for a moment, and then turned away.

(You can't leave now…not now that I'm…)

He rose and grabbed Goku by the shoulder. Goku twisted in surprise, back-pedalling, but Sanzo caught him by the wrist and held him fast, bringing their bodies dangerously close together, leaving Goku's other hand where it clung to the tiny towel. He brought his face within inches of Goku's own, and struggled not to fall into those bottomless golden eyes.

(I've never given anyone anything before.)

“You're such a stupid animal.”

Goku flinched. He was breathing far too quickly.

(Forgive me master…I am bound to this boy…and I am weak…I need something to hold on to)

“It's all so useless…” He touched the fingers of his free hand to Goku's cheek, the skin was soft, warm and damp. Suddenly, Goku was shaking.

“Sa - Sanzo what are you…”

“You called to me.”

Goku licked his lips nervously, but his breathtaking golden eyes didn't waver.

“I didn't,” Goku's voice was raw, “You told me `Shut up' - I thought you'd be happier if you didn't have to hear my voice anymore.”

(Why did you have to choose now to finally start listening to me? You can't begin to understand how quiet it is…)

Goku shivered under that first, hesitant touch of Sanzo's lips. There was a soft thump, which Sanzo feared might be the pre-emptive sound of his knees giving out, but it was only Goku's towel falling to the floor.

(Ah well…bound to happen anyway)

When Goku's lips moved for Sanzo's own they were timid, but at the same time fervent. Sanzo did everything he knew how to keep his own desire under control, to let Goku come to him so that there could be no doubt of his willingness.

Goku's hands fumbled with the ties on Sanzo's robes, and he made strange needy whimpering noises in his throat like a helpless puppy until Sanzo guided his hands and helped him cast all the cumbersome layers of cloth to the floor.

For the first time, confronted with Sanzo's nudity, Goku turned his eyes away; his face was red, bright red.

(Blushing - why is he blushing?)

“What's wrong with you?”

“You're so…” Goku's eyes danced, unwilling to look at him, “You're - beautiful Sanzo…”

“Che…”

“You are!” There was passionate, frantic insistence in his voice, “You're so beautiful and I'm…”

(Don't say it - don't say you're not - you have no idea…)

The words were never spoken, but they hung in the air, taunting, and Goku still would not look at him. Sanzo seized his small chin, but Goku refused to turn his head, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth.

“Look at me.”

Goku whimpered.

“Look at me dammit.”

Goku's eyes snapped open.

“You have to look at me,” he caressed the side of Goku's face, struggling to earn his trust, “I need to see your eyes - your face - understand?”

There was a long moment of silence before Goku nodded, slowly turning his head and meeting Sanzo's eyes, “Sorry Sanzo…”

(Don't be sorry idiot - just - stay with me)

They stumbled towards the bed, unable to keep their bodies apart. Goku's skin was painfully hot, as if consumed by an impossible fever. His long hair fanned around him on the mattress, ran like wet silk through Sanzo's fingers. Goku's strong, calloused hands clung to his arms, dug into his skin.

(I'm selfish…)

“Sanzo…” Goku panted, shook.

Sanzo kissed a trail down the center of Goku's ribcage, lost in the taste of the young man's skin, it babyish softness, the wild, musky scent.

(I'll never be what you deserve)

There was nothing to ease their coming together but spit and an apologetic prayer. Goku moaned, clutched the bed sheets, muscles rolling beneath his bronzed skin, whimpering, pleading.

(But I don't think I'll ever be able to let you go)

Goku cried out, bucking his hips, driving Sanzo in deeper than he had ever meant to go.

“Sanzo…Sanzo…” that seemed to be the only word that he knew. He sang it, chanted it, and moaned it as they found their rhythm.

(Just stay - and don't change)

Through it all, Goku kept his promise and never took his eyes off Sanzo's own, even when his orgasm reduced him to a trembling, throbbing mass of overloaded nerves.

(You might not need me anymore, but…)

“Sanzo…” Goku sighed breathlessly as he ran his fingers in swirling patterns over the sweat-washed skin of Sanzo's stomach; a touch tenderer than Sanzo could ever remember feeling before, “I…”

Sanzo grabbed the blanket folded at the foot of the bed and threw it over their bodies. Goku curled closer to him, casting a well-toned leg over Sanzo's thighs, wrapping an arm around his waist.

(So warm)

“Just be quiet,” Sanzo instructed sharply, “Go to sleep.”

“Oh - okay…”

(I love you - is that what you're going to say? Stupid monkey)

“I already know.”

Goku sighed, snuggling happily, sleepily against his arm, “That's good. I was wonderin' when you'd notice.”