Archive of Our Own

The flash was visible across the battlefield. Sanzo heard the bang, and so did Gojyo and Hakkai, and so did Dokugakuji and Yaone and Lirin. They stopped fighting to look.

The crumpled forms of Goku and Kougaiji lay in the middle of a clearing, grass burning around them and scorched trees on either side. What could knock Goku out like that? Sanzo wondered, and then, heart in throat and sick to his stomach, he was tearing across the clearing to get there.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hakkai and Yaone rush to put out the rapidly-growing fire before it set the whole forest ablaze.

He was absurdly grateful that Hakkai cared about things like that, he realized, as he heaved Goku up in his arms. Fuck, the kid was heavier than he thought. Across from him, Dokugakuji did the same with Kougaiji, a worried Lirin peering over his shoulder.

“Let me do that,” said Gojyo. “You’re injured. You’re gonna bleed all over him.”

Sanzo didn’t argue, letting him take Goku into his own arms. Gojyo was stronger, anyway, but he watched him anxiously.

The fires safely put out, Hakkai and Yaone joined them.

“Sorry,” said Hakkai, “but if we hadn’t done that, none of us would have gotten out of here alive.”

Goku wasn’t bleeding out, or anything like that, so it didn’t matter. He was just… silent, eyes shut, like he was asleep, but there was a stillness to him that frightened Sanzo.

“It’s only strange because he’s not snoring,” murmured Gojyo, as if he read Sanzo’s mind. “His heartbeat’s still going, and he’s still breathing. He’s just knocked out.”

“Yeah,” said Sanzo. Gojyo laid him out on soft grass, and Hakkai checked him over, hands glowing.

“There’s nothing I can do until he wakes up,” he said. “I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Dokugakuji, Yaone, and Lirin were having the same problem. Yaone checked Kougaiji in the same way.

“Look,” said Dokugakuji, “I think we’d both be better off calling this one a stalemate. Yaone says a spell went wrong, and we’d like to take Kougaiji back to make sure he’s all right.”

“We would be very grateful if you would let us leave,” said Hakkai.

“Did you come to the same conclusion?” asked Yaone. “They’re just… sleeping.”

“Yes, I believe so,” said Hakkai gravely. “Best of luck to you in determining what’s wrong.”

“You as well,” said Yaone.

How could they be so fucking polite? Sanzo was furious, but Gojyo said under his breath, “Sanzo, man. Look at me. We’re not getting out of this one without Goku, and they’re doing us a favor.”

Sanzo gritted his teeth, because Gojyo, for once, was right.

“Call Jeep,” he told Hakkai, and waited with Goku until they could pack him into the car and take off.

It was 4:13 a.m. when the wings first appeared.

The way that Goku told the story later was that a sudden heavy weight on his back woke him up from the dead faint he’d been in since the battle ended. They’d given him the bed since he was injured, and played a dispassionate game of rock-paper-scissors for the other one, which Hakkai won. And so, the sudden change in the room woke up Sanzo sleeping on the floor beneath him, as something tickled his nose. Sanzo sneezed, which woke him, and he sat up almost instantly, hand on his gun.

“What the hell—”

He accidentally smacked Gojyo next to him, making him sit up. Sanzo did not feel sorry for him.

“Holy shit—” said Gojyo.

Goku had huge, white wings, ripped through the back of his shirt as though they had sprouted from his back. For a moment, Sanzo thought he was still dreaming. They weren’t like bird wings, they were extra appendages on Goku’s shoulders. There were a bunch of short feathers at the top, but a lot of longer, thicker ones at the bottom, too. He couldn’t even begin to gauge how big the wings were, and he was decidedly not wondering where they had come from, because that could wait until later. A feather fell off and landed on Sanzo.

Goku sat up slowly.

“Hey,” he said. “The battle’s over, and I—my back’s heavy? We went back to the inn?”

“You were out for a while,” said Sanzo, though it seemed to not be important to Goku any more.

Sanzo picked up the feather and stared at it. The light caught it in a way that it did not catch bird wings—it reflected off of it like a pearl, faintly glimmering, and the middle part where the feather was fluffy (afterfeather, Sanzo had been fond of anatomy books when he was younger) was so soft he wouldn’t even have known he was touching it if it weren’t for the fact that he could see where his finger bent it.

“Wings!” Goku said excitedly, trying out new muscles that had never existed until this moment. “Sanzo, check it out, I have wings!”

Sanzo stared at him. How the hell could Goku be so excited about this? It was obviously magic and it was obviously not going to be good and it was going to be extremely noticeable and they would never be able to go anywhere without problems ever again. The wings spun in different directions, feathers falling everywhere. Sanzo dodged a move that might’ve broken his nose, had the wing actually hit him.

Hakkai stirred in the other bed. There was a moment where they glanced at the wings and no one seemed to know what to say.

But they got over it pretty fast.

“So uh, that’s new,” said Gojyo.

“He just woke up like this,” said Sanzo gruffly.

“The spell from earlier,” said Hakkai thoughtfully. “What do you suppose Kougaiji was trying to do?”

“Okay,” said Gojyo, “I am pretty sure that magic doesn’t work that way.”

“Well, apparently something does work that way,” said Hakkai, rubbing his eyes and putting on his monocle. He peered at Goku. “But it doesn’t look like he’s continuing to transform.”

“What if I turn into a bird?” asked Goku. “Or... or something.”

“You’d make a damn big bird,” said Sanzo, and Goku giggled nervously.

“You’ll come with us the rest of the way even if you have to peck out our enemies’ eyes,” said Gojyo.

“If you were going to turn into a bird,” said Hakkai, “your arms would have turned into wings, and the rest of your body would turn into corresponding bird-organs. It would have been a transformative process, not an additive process. A spell like that would work with what was already there.”

There was a pause as they considered this. Sanzo regretted 

“That kind of makes sense,” said Goku finally.

“They also might go away on their own,” suggested Hakkai.

Goku frowned.

“Well,” said Gojyo conversationally, “this is very interesting, but it is four in the fucking morning and I want to go back to sleep.”

“I think we should leave,” said Hakkai. “It’s going to be pretty difficult getting past all the townspeople in the morning without notice. We’re going to need a way to disguise the wings. And we need to figure out what they are and if we can have them removed, or something.”

“So... I guess I’m sleeping in the Jeep.”

Hakkai smiled pleasantly.

“I guess you are.”

Goku twitched the left one, then the right one, again, trying to find his range of motion, or something. Sanzo didn’t really care. He just watched, not really thinking about the fact that he was staring. In one feather, the pearly luminescence had been mildly interesting, but the whole wings were something else entirely. They caught the moonlight like—

Like nothing he’d ever seen before.

“Sanzo?” asked Hakkai gently.

“Right,” said Sanzo, snapping his attention back to the present.

“We’re going to go while it’s dark out,” Hakkai said. “Get up. I’ll drive. Goku gets shotgun, because I don’t think he’ll appreciate his new limbs dragging on the ground at 60 miles per hour.”

Goku was trying to twist himself around to feel the wings for himself. Sanzo realized that he was still holding the feather, and tossed it to the side.

“That’s fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

They left some money on the counter at the front, and snuck out to Hakuryu, who was woken up as quietly as they could manage (okay, so sneaking out of town had been something that they had long ago distilled to an exact science), and then there was the matter of fitting Goku’s wings into the backseat.

The wings kind of dragged on the ground a little as they walked to the Jeep. Goku picked them up.

“They’re heavier this way,” he complained. “I mean, I guess I can deal with it, but it’s… weird.”

They were, indeed, rather large—approximately eight feet or so in either direction fully stretched out, Sanzo could see now.

“Look,” said Gojyo, gesturing at the bottom of the wings. “They aren’t dirty. Freaky.”

“You know,” said Hakkai, “I wonder if this means there might be something to Sanzo’s feeling that the wings aren’t inherently... well, bad.”

Hakkai got into the drivers’ seat, while Gojyo and Sanzo got into the back. Goku got into shotgun, and then had to arrange his right wing around Gojyo’s feet. The other one lay across Sanzo’s lap in a kind of awkward position, sort of upside down, with the flight feathers half out over Sanzo’s door. Goku informed him that they would need to do something about this soon, because it was going to cramp. Wing cramps, Sanzo thought, were among the things that he never thought he’d have to worry about in his entire life.

“I wonder if the same thing happened to Kougaiji,” said Hakkai.

Gojyo was snoring.

“Stupid monkey,” said Sanzo, pushing at the wings, which were quickly becoming uncomfortable. Only, he didn’t actually want to hurt Goku, unsure of how much pressure was too much, so he mostly ended up pushing at them gently. The feathers slipped through his fingers.

“Oh, man,” Goku murmured, his eyes shutting. “Oh, okay. That’s—that’s like—”

“Oh my,” said Hakkai, catching Sanzo’s eye in the rearview mirror and raising an eyebrow at him.

Sanzo pulled his hand away as if the feathers had burnt him, and raised his eyebrows right back at Hakkai, who frowned and shook his head. Would Goku react that way every time? Sanzo sank back in his seat, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with himself.

He kept his hands the hell away from the feathers after that.

The sun rose, and with the gradual lightening of the sky, the real beauty in Goku’s feathers could be seen. Sanzo glanced to Hakkai, wondering if he saw it too, and the way that Hakkai’s eyes traveled over the feathers told him that yes, in fact, Hakkai absolutely understood.

“We’ll have to cover them,” said Hakkai. “There’s no other way.”

When Gojyo woke up and the arguing got to be too much, they decided to stop in the nearest town and form a plan of action.

“So,” said Hakkai, pulling out a pad of paper on which he had written.

“You’ve been taking notes?” asked Gojyo, sounding moderately horrified. “That’s... putting way too much thought into this. When did you even have time to do that?”

“This is kind of serious,” Hakkai said, frowning at Gojyo. “But here’s what I’ve got so far. The feathers are not bird feathers, nor is the bone structure of the wings typical of your average bird. The wings have no apparent use—it might be possible for Goku to fly with them, but why would that be necessary? They will, in fact, probably be more of a hindrance, as they will call ridiculous amounts of attention to us.”

“Yeah,” said Goku, “with the cloak on, I can fold them up real tight, and I don’t think people will notice too much. I’ll just kinda look weird, but not too weird.”

Sanzo frowned.

“So why would he even have them?”

Hakkai shrugged.

“All I can think is that it’s Kougaiji’s spell gone wrong,” he said, smiling in a way that made it clear that he didn’t find it very funny.

“Great,” said Gojyo. “So, any way to remove them?”

“Probably not.” Hakkai sighed. “Not until we figure out what spell Kougaiji used, and how it went wrong.”

“I kinda like them,” said Goku. “I think I look more badass.”

“Yes, well,” said Hakkai, “bright side to everything, I suppose.”

 And it went all right, for a few days.

They went from town to town, mercifully not being recognized as the Sanzo party because everyone knew the Sanzo party had a very short member and it obviously couldn’t be the person under the cloak who was clearly very tall and stooping over. Of course, that all ended when they ran into someone who recognized Sanzo.

So, that story traveled too.

This close to the epicenter of the minus wave, they were beginning to have serious problems with youkai coming after them with alarming numbers. Once word of the Sanzo party’s “new” member spread, things got very difficult.

And Sanzo could have sworn that Goku ate even more than usual.

“Sanzo,” said Goku one night, in that sort of whiny pleading way he always had, “do you think we’re gonna make it all the way west without people finding out?”

Sanzo was silent for a minute, thinking.

“Sanzo?”

“No,” said Sanzo, going by instinct and pessimism. “Because something’s gonna happen, you’re gonna lose your cloak in front of a bunch of youkai and it’s gonna be all over the country by morning the next day. Or an innkeeper’s gonna see it. And soon, somebody’s gonna start wondering about the feathers you leave all over the place.”

Goku picked one up and tried to throw it, although being a feather, it actually went backwards and floated to the ground lazily.

“Hakkai get any ideas on what spell it was yet?”

“We’d have told you if he did,” said Sanzo, watching the feather fall.

Goku was silent again for a minute.

“Sanzo?”

“What now?”

“Can you... fix them?”

Sanzo stared at him, wondering what the hell that meant. Goku stretched one of his wings out, lying on his back with his hands behind his head. He sat up. The motion of the wings was still so strange to watch.

Sometimes, they were so fully a part of Goku, and sometimes, like now, they seemed foreign. They’d had to fix Goku’s shirt, make it so that he could take it on and off, but he said it was still uncomfortable, so frequently he took it off at night. Hakkai and Sanzo and Gojyo had each inspected the place where wing met shoulderblade, and the transition from skin to feather was seamless, as if it had always been that way. No simple cut-and-paste job, this was the work of the gods.

Which was, in a way, something Sanzo had been hoping was not the case. What the hell had Kougaiji done?

Sanzo dragged his eyes away from it.

“Look,” Goku said, and Sanzo wanted to say I am trying desperately not to do that but managed to restrain himself, “the feathers are all messed up. It’s the cloak, it’s kinda uncomfortable but it isn’t too bad. It’s just... I don’t know. It’s like having someone tugging on your hair, constantly.”

Okay. Fine. They did look kinda ruffled. Goku tried to flatten them, but Sanzo could tell it was an awkward angle to try to reach, kind of like that one spot in the middle of the shoulder blades, only worse.

“Sit over here,” Sanzo said, because knowing something was a bad idea had never yet precluded him from doing it, and he wasn’t about to start listening to good sense now. Goku eagerly scrambled to comply.

“Like this?” Sanzo asked, combing his fingers through the feathers the way Goku had been trying to do. They were soft under his fingertips, and he liked the way that the feathers lined up neatly. It was strange to touch another person like this, but it was satisfying.

“Yeah,” said Goku, sighing. “That’s just right.”

Sanzo found it kind of relaxing. He had one task, and he focused on it, which was practically the definition of meditation. Goku was quiet the whole time, and Sanzo was careful to avoid the flight feathers after what had happened in the Jeep, although if he looked closely at Goku—which he tried to avoid doing, he tried to focus on fixing the feathers of the wings so that they all pointed in the same direction—he could tell that Goku did not mind this, not at all, his shoulders loose and relaxed. Occasionally he arched his neck and groaned, the way somebody might while stretching, when Sanzo fixed a particularly screwed-up section of feathers. And that... well, that sort of pleased Sanzo, and when Sanzo figured that out was when things got sort of awkward. Not that Goku noticed the change, but Sanzo felt it.

Sanzo didn’t say anything, but felt his cheeks heat up, which was the stupidest thing ever. He had never blushed in his life and he didn’t want to start now. Unfortunately, his face had other ideas on the matter. Fortunately Goku was facing away from him, and he focused on the feathers and the fact that it was satisfying to be running his hands through something soft, with Goku’s silence for company, while sitting on one of the least uncomfortable inn beds he’d ever had.

“There,” he said, doing one last cursory check. Loose feathers littered the floor around them. Sanzo kicked at them.

“Thanks, Sanzo,” said Goku cheerily, sitting up and getting back into his bed. Luckily, he didn’t look back at Sanzo.

Sanzo lay back and pulled up the covers, turning away.

“If you’re grateful, get the lights so we can go to sleep.”

“All right.”

He heard Goku’s feet padding across the floor, and when the lights finally flicked off, he breathed a sigh of relief and poked at his flat pillow to make it fluffier. This didn’t aid in his confusion.

Sanzo did eventually fall asleep, but it was a damn hard thing to do.

 Of course, Goku lost his cloak in front of a few youkai the very next day. It got caught on a branch. Or Goku threw it off because he was tired of the whole charade. Sanzo really wasn’t sure.

“Holy shit,” one said.

The others had started backing away, some of them dropping their weapons. Goku stretched out his wings lazily, grinning in a way that even Sanzo found unnerving.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “I’m something you’ve never even heard of before. They don’t even have a name for me.”

Sanzo, Hakkai, and Gojyo all simultaneously cringed in embarrassment, glancing at each other, although it did seem to frighten most of the demons.

“I bet you bleed just like anything else,” said one of the braver ones.

“Wanna find out?” said Goku, summoning the Nyoi-bo.

Half the youkai ran at that point. The other fifteen or so scowled and clenched their weapons more tightly. One of them threw his knife. It clipped the side of Goku’s face, which took some of the steam out of his bravado, especially when a drop of blood ran down the side of his face. Sanzo watched it with a sinking heart.

Lucky shot, but they’d have to fight now, because the stupid youkai thought they had a chance.

“I think we just did,” said one of the uglier ones. “You aren’t that special. Think I’ve heard of some experiments like you back in Houtou Castle.”

“I don’t know,” said a ratty-haired girl. “Still looks pretty strong to me.”

“I bet if we kill it, we get its powers,” said one with nasty looking sharp teeth.

“Should we step in?” asked Hakkai. “I mean, there are kind of a lot of them.”

“He’s fine,” said Sanzo, as Goku whacked three of them with the staff in one hit. “But I need a little stress release.”

Goku had been clumsy with the cloak on, but as it turned out, he had difficulty managing the weight of the wings in the fight, and Sanzo and Gojyo stepped in. Eventually Hakkai had to as well.

Sanzo fought at Goku’s back, a typical setup for the two of them, except they were rushed by about three youkai, one of whom knocked Goku off his feet. It took him longer to get up than usual, owing to the weight of the wings, and in that time Sanzo had to reload and ended up taking a knife to the back.

Shit, he thought, as he went down, and Goku dashed at him, knocking the youkai out of the way.

Gojyo’s scythe swung out behind them.

“Hey, monkey!” he yelled. “What the hell happened to the monk? Oh, shit. Hakkai, get over here.”

“I’m fine,” muttered Sanzo, knowing it wasn’t enough, and then everything went black around the edges.

Left with very strict instructions from Hakkai to absolutely not stand up, no matter what, Sanzo had nothing to do but let Goku clean his wounds. Having a deep back wound was annoying. He couldn’t take care of it himself, and he had more than a few scars from wounds for which he’d just done the bare minimum, but even he had to admit that it was better to have someone try to tend to it.

He sat on the edge of Goku’s bed, letting him wash out the wound. Hakkai had done his best, but there was still a lot of blood, and he needed some bandaging just in case the healing didn’t take.

“I’m so sorry,” said Goku, for probably the fifth time.

“It’s fine,” said Sanzo, as he had every time Goku had apologized.

“You almost died,” said Goku. His voice cracked. “Because I suck at fighting now. That’s like, the one thing I was good at, and you almost died because I couldn’t do it. Maybe that’s what Kougaiji was going for?”

“Well, he picked a hell of a way to do that,” said Sanzo. “Doesn’t seem like his style, anyway.”

Goku’s hands were gentle when he dabbed at Sanzo’s wounds, but Sanzo winced anyway.

“I’m so—”

Sanzo cut him off.

“Don’t say it. It’s—”

“If I can’t say I’m sorry then you can’t say ‘it’s fine’ again,” Goku said. “You said that like five times. I get it.”

“I’ll live,” said Sanzo instead. “It’s not like you could prevent everything, you know.”

Goku began wrapping the bandages around him again, steading him with a firm hand against his shoulder. Sanzo, tense at first (the way he always was when he had to touch someone else), relaxed into it.

Admittedly, he liked Goku’s touch. This was a new and awkward development. Goku had to lean in close to pull the bandages around his front, his shirt brushing against Sanzo’s shoulderblades, and Sanzo could feel the warmth of him against his back. Eventually, Goku stopped, and pulled away.

Sanzo had never liked touching people. He had never wanted to. He’d hugged Koumyou when he was little, but that was about it. He had never imagined, not in his years of being alone, that there would be a time when he would miss being touched.

It would have been unbearable if it was someone he didn’t know, and only awkward with Gojyo, and fine with Hakkai. Goku was a different kind of unbearable, in that Sanzo had just had the horrible realization that soon Goku would stop and then he would be—

“You have like, a weird mole, on your shoulder. Did you know that?” asked Goku.

“It’s not like I can see it,” said Sanzo, and suddenly a finger was pressing into his back.

“It’s right there,” said Goku.

“Hm,” said Sanzo, not sure what to say, but wondering vaguely how to keep this going. “Any others?”

“Um,” said Goku, “no.”

“Oh,” said Sanzo.

“But you have a scar here,” said Goku, drawing a line down Sanzo’s back.

“Bandits five miles north of the temple,” said Sanzo. “I remember it. It was before I met you.”

“And here,” said Goku, tracing a little circle on Sanzo’s lower back.

“Minus-wave affected youkai shortly after we met Hakkai and Gojyo,” said Sanzo.

“Oh, I remember that. You didn’t like the temple healer then,” said Goku. “And here?” He drew a tiny c-shape on Sanzo’s left shoulder blade.

Sanzo thought for a minute. He was tired, and he’d lost a lot of blood, but not that tired, and he wasn’t fuzzy-headed any more.

“There’s not a scar there,” he said.

Goku laughed.

“You got me.”

“Brat,” said Sanzo, not really meaning it.

He could have gotten up, but he didn’t. Goku didn’t make any moves.

“So, you’re really not mad?” asked Goku.

“How could I be mad?” asked Sanzo.

Sanzo felt his shoulders tense up again, and he forced them to relax.

“I just mean,” said Goku, “I should’ve done better.”

“You always do the best you can,” said Sanzo. “There isn’t anyone I’d rather fight beside.”

Goku was silent, and Sanzo turned to see him.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Sit straight!” said Goku, reaching out to push him back into place.

He only barely got a glimpse of Goku’s face before he had to turn around and hope his wound hadn’t reopened. Goku didn’t look comforted. He looked… miserable.

“You okay?” asked Sanzo.

“Well, now I feel worse,” said Goku. “I mean, I think your back wound didn’t reopen, but just… don’t twist like that again.”

“Quit beating yourself up,” said Sanzo. “I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. You’ll get better, right?”

Goku made a noise that could have been an annoyed huff.

“Yeah, but I want to be better now! I wish I’d been better tonight!”

“Well,” said Sanzo, “a back wound that Hakkai can heal is a pretty easy way of learning your lesson. You can spar with Gojyo, figure out all the new balance shit you’ll have to do. Gojyo’s good at that.”

Goku sighed. “Yeah.”

“It’s okay,” said Sanzo, and suddenly he was enveloped in warmth. Goku draped himself over Sanzo in a hug. Sanzo reached up, holding a hand around Goku’s wrist, trying to relax into it and not really succeeding.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” said Goku. “I really—you bled a lot, Sanzo.”

“You don’t have to get emotional about it,” said Sanzo. Goku buried his nose in Sanzo’s neck.

As things turned out, when the news spread people tended to go one of three ways. One (and most common, thankfully) was that people continued to assume that Goku was a very tall man who was stooped over as long as the cloak was on, and that he was therefore not the winged monster capable of killing fifty men at fifty paces with a mere glance that they had heard about. Two (and second most common, unfortunately) was that Goku would unintentionally show someone a bit of the wings, and they would be run out of town, despite the presence of Genjo Sanzo.

Third, and least common, also unfortunately, was that people would see the wings independent of hearing the rumors and assume that Goku had been gifted by the goddess.

After leaving the first and only town to do that so far, where Goku had been revered and Sanzo had for once been second, they were all extremely sorry.

“Man,” said Goku, “think we could get that to happen again?”

“All the women wanted to know what it was like traveling with His Eminence,” said Gojyo. “So yeah, I’m also voting for a repeat. Or we could visit again. I think there were a few that I didn’t get a chance to talk to, one-on-one. And the ladies need to hear all the stories of our bravery. And also mine.”

“How utterly selfless of you,” said Hakkai.

Sanzo glanced at him, surprised.

“Hey,” said Gojyo. “Hakkai, man, it was a joke. You know. Oh, shit.”

“We can talk later,” said Hakkai shortly.

They drove the rest of the way to the nearest town in an uncomfortable silence, much different from their usual cranky camaraderie.

 The attacks did come, and they managed to deal with them with alarming ease, having shaken off the unknown problems between Hakkai and Gojyo and the awkwardness Sanzo felt around Goku with a big dinner and a good night’s rest. Maybe the problems weren’t buried, but at least they didn’t have to deal with them. And frankly, Sanzo didn’t care what Hakkai and Gojyo got up to as long as he didn’t know too much about it.

Sanzo privately guessed that the reason for the relative lack of difficulty with their new opponents was that the only youkai stupid enough to fall for the rumors were also not strong enough to be higher in the hierarchy of youkai, which was where the real truth of the matter had always been known.

Kougaiji and his teammates, in fact, made no appearances, even though they expected them. Sanzo briefly wondered if they were all right, then realized that was the dumbest reaction ever. Kougaiji and his teammages were their mortal enemies.

Still, at least they were brighter than this bunch.

“So,” said Hakkai cheerfully, “how’re things?”

He shot another ball of flame into a group of youkai who were advancing on them. Goku was busily mowing down five at a time.

Sanzo shot without even really aiming, just checking to make sure that where his gun was pointed didn’t have any relation to where Goku or Gojyo were. Hakkai, guarding his back, was automatically out of the line of fire.

“Fine,” said Sanzo, reloading for the moment, as it briefly seemed safe to do so.

“Is Goku all right?” Hakkai asked.

“He’s fine,” said Sanzo.

“Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t he be?”

There was a pause. Sanzo glanced back to make sure Hakkai hadn’t gotten on the wrong end of some kind of weapon, and when this was confirmed, he checked back on the groups that were coming after them.

“It’s just,” said Hakkai, in between bursts of fireballs, “I really think—well, he’s kind of... well, you know. Freaking out.”

Sanzo thought over it. Goku had been asking Sanzo to fix his wings more nights lately, but he hadn’t seen Goku “freaking out”.

“News to me,” said Sanzo.

Hakkai said, “Well, all right. Also, do you remember that the youkai were all surprised when they saw the wings for the first time? They’d obviously never seen anything like that.”

Sanzo shot another round. Youkai lay on the ground around them, groaning.

“Yes…?”

And then he got what Hakkai was saying.

“Shit. But these guys are far away. They can’t be expected to be caught up on all the news from Houtou Castle. Maybe no one told them their fearless leader got wings.”

“I mean, as they’re not harmful in any way we can see,” said Hakkai, “I can’t say that I’m too worried. But it does make one wonder.”

With his foot, Sanzo nudged a youkai man next to him that was still alive.

“You,” he said, “Answer a question, and I won’t shoot. It’s a generous offer, since five minutes ago you were yelling about eating my corpse.”

“Never,” grunted the man.

“Now, now,” said Hakkai. “A respected subordinate can’t be expected to give up information so easily, Sanzo.”

The man looked between them suspiciously.

“It’s a simple question,” said Sanzo. “Your boss, Kougaiji. He hasn’t grown wings like my associate over there, has he?”

The youkai scowled at him, and then rolled over.

“Oh, please don’t be difficult,” said Hakkai. “It’s really a question of a personal nature. We’re just curious, you could say.”

The man groaned again.

“No one will know it was you, and you’ll live,” said Hakkai. “All your friends are dead.”

“You’re a fucking presumptuous bunch,” said the man. “Let me die in peace.”

Hakkai sighed, and glanced at Sanzo. “Some people are just difficult.”

They left him alive. Not worth the bullet, Sanzo figured.

Only Sanzo couldn’t forget about what they hadn’t learned, and what he hadn’t known about Goku’s thoughts about the wings, and it was made all the more difficult by the fact that nightly, Goku asked Sanzo to fix the feathers. Two nights later, Sanzo had almost gotten used to the feeling. And it had been a long day. Sanzo had been actually relieved when Goku had, as he had for the previous week, demanded that Sanzo comb his wings.

Unfortunately, Sanzo was beginning to like it, despite the fact that it involved one of the main things that made Sanzo intensely uncomfortable: namely, touching other people. Which only proved you could get used to anything, Sanzo thought, as he stared down at Goku’s shoulders and smoothed down a particularly backwards feather only to find out it had come loose. Not that he wanted to get used to this, or anything, because that would be stupid.

He was still kinda hoping that the wings would just disappear, as they had come, and the whole thing could be written off as an oddity due to... something.

Goku exhaled shakily and shook a wing after Sanzo had declared it finished. Sanzo had half a mind to run his hand through Goku’s hair, too, because of the way that it stuck out one one side and was flat on the other. Somehow, he imagined Goku wouldn’t take well to that.

“Hakkai told you I was kinda… upset,” said Goku.

Sanzo figured he might as well own up to it.

“Yeah.”

“And you guys couldn’t figure out if Kougaiji grew wings too. So maybe it’s just me,” said Goku miserably.

“Even if it is,” said Sanzo, “that doesn’t mean it can’t be undone. If you wanted it undone.”

Goku considered this.

“So you think it’s... just... because? It just happened? And the gods are laughing at us?”

“Who cares?”

Goku thought about this for a moment, and seemed to accept it.

“Do you think it’s... bad?”

“No,” said Sanzo, vehemently. “I mean, I doubt it.”

“I guess, what I mean is: you let me out of prison. What if this isn’t like some kind of target on my back, in return for whatever it is that got me in the cave in the first place?”

Sometimes, Sanzo forgot how guilty Goku felt over the past he couldn’t remember. However, that didn’t even make sense, because they were already a target and if the gods wanted to put Goku back in the goddamn cave they would’ve done it.

“Do you want the wings gone?” asked Sanzo, realizing he was evading the question. But to be fair, it had been a pretty stupid question in the first place.

“I—I don’t know,” said Goku miserably. “I feel like there’s something I don’t know about them yet, you know? Like I’m only just starting to discover what they can do.”

“Yes,” said Sanzo, latching onto this, “I think that’s true. So quit with the punishment stuff, okay? There’s nothing they’re punishing you about anymore, if they’d wanted to do that then they’d... put you back in the cave.” Take you away again. “So obviously, they don’t.”

“You really think so?”

“I said it once, I’m not gonna say it again.”

Sanzo tried to sound harsh, but Goku smiled and leaned against his pillow and let Sanzo sleep, and that was the end of that.

 “You know,” said Gojyo, to Sanzo.

“What?”

“I kind of like him better this way.”

Goku, despite a couple of feeble first attempts, had actually managed to incorporate the wings into his fighting style, in a way that made them rather useful. Despite the rather sensitive nerve endings in them, they did not break under blows nor did any of the Sanzo party’s enemies thus far have a knife capable of cutting into them. Goku was learning to use them as a shield.

“That’s stupid,” said Sanzo. “He’s the same.”

“No,” said Gojyo thoughtfully, “No, I really don’t think so. He’s stronger, for one thing.”

“He’s been getting stronger as time passes. And he’s always been this impulsive.”

Gojyo swung his sickle, the curved end taking out a few demons. They’d leave the forest floor drenched in demon blood, the smell probably dragging out animals from miles around. It was a shame. It had been beautiful before they’d gotten there. He stepped backwards, leaves crunching under his feet, as a youkai came lurching at him. Gojyo took him out without even looking.

“Impulsive, yes. Graceful? No.”

Sanzo watched, not yet ready to break out the scriptures, just letting the battle take place around him. He had decided that he was only gonna shoot if a demon particularly pissed him off, which one was doing currently by sneaking up behind Goku with a club. The bullet whizzed past Goku’s ear.

“Hey! You almost got me!”

“But I didn’t. Watch out for yourself, you stupid monkey. Behind you!”

Goku turned around just in time to catch another one trying the same thing, and took him out with a punch-kick-roundhouse-knee combo that truly was a beautiful thing to behold, using his feet almost as easily as his hands. It had taken him a few days, but he’d adjusted his fighting style to account for the weight of the wings. They hadn’t even needed the Nyoi-Bo today. Goku landed on his feet, the last of the demons taken out, and he let out a victory whoop that rang through the valley. Sanzo counted demons killed in his head, and went over Goku’s moves throughout the battle.

“Okay, point taken,” Sanzo muttered to Gojyo, “but he’s still an idiot.”

Gojyo smirked.

“Well, nobody’s contested that.”

 They managed to retreat to a small town on the outskirts of a forest, and cleaned their wounds. Tonight, nobody had wanted to stay cooped up in a hotel room. They’d gone their separate ways.

Blue, Sanzo thought, sitting on a bench in a park as twilight fell, and the moon lay low on the horizon, glowing yellow and huge against the trees. It was a shame that good orange paper and time to fold it into airplanes were two things that were hard to come by, on the move as frequently as they were.

If Sanzo had them, he’d be folding them up and sending them out the window of the room at their inn, as high as he could manage. They wouldn’t reach the moon, but he’d make a pretty good attempt at it, in order to watch them sailing back down again.

When things got boring on the road, when they got cramped and terse or just plain weird, like now, Sanzo sometimes missed the lazy times with Goku at the monastery—or, they were lazy in comparison to these. 

At least he wasn’t alone any more. At least solitude was something he could seek out, not something forced on him. At least, when he went back, he knew the others would be waiting for him.

And the knowledge that he’d never again hear Koumyou’s silly parable about the orange airplanes and the blue sky wasn’t enough to send him spiraling into grief again. He could look at the night sky from a bench in a park, and feel himself half-smiling as he glanced up at the moon.

Goku’s short cape-thing (seriously, what the hell was that, anyway) was a nice replacement for the planes, though, when Goku came to sit by him on the little bench. He was still wearing a giant cloak, but since they were alone right now, he took it off, spreading his wings over the back of the bench. There was a small ripping noise.

This happened often.

“Oops,” said Goku quietly.

“We’ll fix it later,” Sanzo said.

They’d had to redo his shirts, Sanzo remembered suddenly, doing some of the needlework himself on the new buttons because Goku was pretty much incapable of doing it without poking all kinds of holes in his fingers. It was a nice memory, actually. Maybe. He hadn’t minded, even though he’d threatened to shoot Gojyo once the camera came out.

“Hey, Sanzo,” said Goku. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing,” said Sanzo.

“That’s not possible.”

“Fine. I don’t want to tell you what I’m thinking about.”

The wings were another matter, and they brushed up against Sanzo’s shoulders continually, still so oddly warm.

“You don’t have to be so grumpy! I just wanted to talk.”

“Why?”

“Because,” said Goku, “I just do.”

“About what?”

“I don’t know! Anything.”

Now Goku sounded grumpy. Which made Sanzo irritated, too. What had Goku come out here for? Goku had to know Sanzo didn’t do idle chatter. This was going to devolve into some kind of scowl-fest and nobody was going to go back to the inn happy.

He focused his attention on the twinkling stars, not too bright now but that was because it wasn’t dark enough for them to shine.

Sanzo imagined the arc that the paper airplane would make, sailing over the rooftops of the houses below their second-floor inn room. Or maybe, it’d be one of those ones that swooped upwards really fast, make a loop, and then fall straight down. Koumyou had liked those, too.

He glanced up at the sky again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Goku glance up with him, and then turn to face him.

What did he want?

“I’m not going out to buy you something to eat right now,” Sanzo said, trying to figure out what would make Goku go away. But this, apparently, wasn’t something Goku had wanted. He didn’t even look disappointed.

“No, I know! Sheesh, Sanzo, can’t I come sit by you without wanting food?”

“No.”

Goku looked peevish.

“Well, fine, maybe I do want something to eat… but not really badly, ‘cause I did just eat. No, I really just wanna know what you’re thinking about.”

Sanzo glanced at him. He could see the reflection of the moon in Goku’s golden eyes, and the yellowy light from it didn’t have any effect on the whiteness of his wings, though everything else about Goku had taken on that tint.

“Can you fly?” he asked.

Goku smiled, the white of his teeth flashing in the moonlight. A playful smile, but Sanzo never saw it without also noticing Goku’s large canine teeth (of course, in Goku’s Seiten Taisei form, he never saw Goku bare his teeth without thinking of this same smile. Made sense, kinda, since it was the same smile, but in the end it kinda didn’t, either).

“Wanna find out?”

Sanzo had to admit there was a moment when Goku climbed up to the top of the nearest tree—a moment right before Goku decided to jump—that he was kind of worried about the outcome, even if Goku was centuries old and, oh yeah, kind of immortal. But Goku didn’t fall.

In fact, he soared.

“Check it out!” he hollered, going as high as he dared, cape whipping in the wind from his beating wings. It wasn’t long before it fell off and tumbled in the wake of the air currents. Some townspeople might see. If Hakkai knew they were doing this, he wouldn’t be happy with them. The whoop of joy that Goku let out clinched it: Sanzo didn’t give a rat’s furry gray ass. Sanzo whooped too, forgetting himself when he saw the silhouette of Goku take flight from the silvery canopy of trees. He laughed as Goku tried a somersault in midair, drawing in the wings close, and knew that Goku was showing off for him.

No, he thought, reaching up to catch the cape as it sailed down towards him (still warm), he definitely didn’t need the orange paper after all.

That night, as Sanzo picked out leaves and twigs from Goku’s wings after an unfortunate crash-landing, Goku lay on his stomach, eyes shut.

“Mmph,” he said, “Thanks, Sanzo. Some of ‘em really kinda hurt.”

Sanzo had one of the wings across his lap, one leg crossed over the other and the wing above that. It was funny how, if he focused on them, really closely, he sort of forgot that he was actually in contact with Goku, and that made it kind of okay.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered. “I mean that.”

Goku smiled lazily.

“It’s kinda weird,” he said, “sometimes people try to touch them, and that’s uncomfortable. But if it’s you, I don’t mind. If it’s you, it’s... nice.”

Sanzo ruffled them up a little bit, feeling for stray leaves, and Goku drew his breath in sharply, eyes opening and straightening up so he was leaning on his elbows.

“Uh,” said Sanzo, pulling his hand back and wondering if he should apologize. “Did that hurt?”

“No,” said Goku, “it—it so didn’t hurt.”

What the hell did that mean? Goku scrambled to sit up.

“Should—“ Sanzo suddenly hated this weird gray-area they’d stumbled into, what was he supposed to do? “Should I stop?”

“Hell no,” said Goku. “I mean—“ and here he went bright pink, “unless you want to.”

Sanzo really wanted to, because continuing would be embarrassing. Except at the same time, he really did not think it was a good idea to keep going.

He reached out to touch the wing again, running a hand over the top of it. Goku scooted forwards so that Sanzo could reach more easily, and the feathers were so soft on the top of the wing that Sanzo continued running his hand downwards. When he got to the flight feathers, Goku’s breath hitched and he leaned forwards, mouth just a little bit parted, putting his hand on Sanzo’s knee with just enough pressure, and it felt good, it really did, except Sanzo was still Sanzo and this was going to go somewhere—

Despite his new knowledge (which was undoing a lifetime of personal and priestly certainty on the matter) that another person’s touch could actually feel good, Sanzo leapt backwards, which caused Goku to fall off the bed and faceplant onto the floor. He knocked over the lamp, which lay in pieces. Sanzo hoped that the noise wouldn’t send anyone running.

“What the hell,” complained Goku.

“Can’t,” said Sanzo, finding himself even less capable than usual of explaining himself.

Goku stared at him, with a multitude of facial expressions. Sanzo counted: one, shock; two, embarrassment; three, anger; and four, resignation.

“Okay,” said Goku flatly. “Really?”

“Won’t, then,” said Sanzo, willing to allow for small points to be argued because there were bigger things to worry about. Like the fact that he had almost—almost kissed Goku. Except it was better to talk about the smaller points because the alternative was the bigger points or nothing at all, and really, neither sounded like a good option. Nothing was a good option. Sanzo felt sick. “When did you become a pedant?”

Goku’s scowl deepened, and Sanzo wondered if that wasn’t because he didn’t know the meaning of the word pedant, and the person he always asked about things like this was Sanzo.

“When did you decide to actually do the whole priest thing right?”

“This isn’t about that,” said Sanzo, and that was the truth.

“So that was just... You’re not... at all? You don’t want this?” Goku sat down very quickly on his own bed.

Sanzo didn’t know how to reply.

Goku was so strange, he thought, looking at him. Too old, but too immature, too.

“I,” he started.

Goku shook his head, and suddenly apologies just began to tumble out. “Uh, so... I guess I screwed up. I'm sorry for what I just said. It was a dumb distinction and you're right that I didn't need to make it. I'm sorry I made it weird, and I'm sorry I did something that you didn't want. Um. I won’t do it again, unless you say it’s okay before.”

Sanzo should’ve said, no, this was a big mistake on both sides, let’s never speak of it again. He wanted to say you’ll thank me for this later, when we realize this was just a phase. So what if it was a lie (for Sanzo, anyway)?

And of course, there was the tumble of things he felt, but which had no names. Things like the way that his heart leaped when he saw Goku’s silhouette approaching him on a park bench at twilight, the way that he could tell if it was Goku knocking on his door, the way that nobody had made him smile for years before Goku came along.

None of these things had to do with the way he felt when Goku leaned up against him, all heartbeat and weight and warm breath and living breathing person, and anyway, it wasn’t like sex was what he wanted. (Sanzo had vague notions of what sex involved, namely that it involved a lot of touching and touching other people in a way that the very thought of just… made his skin crawl. He’d always known that. It had never been an option for him, never been something he’d ever wanted to try.)

And sex was where stuff like this always headed, right? And that was why Sanzo couldn’t do this, why Sanzo couldn’t be Goku’s… lover. Sanzo wouldn’t. Not even with Goku.

What he actually said was, “I don't wanna talk about it right now.”

After he said it, of course, he realized that it was the wrong thing. Goku's eyes widened, and Sanzo realized that he thought Sanzo wasn't ever going to forgive him.

“That's okay,” said Goku quickly. “Um. Do you want me to leave? I can leave. We can tell Gojyo or Hakkai that you, um. I don't know. Are tired of me snoring.”

“It's fine.”

Goku stared at him, obviously trying to puzzle it out.

“I’m going to bed,” Sanzo announced, and knew that tomorrow was going to suck. It would be better for them in the end. Sanzo was going to cling to that.

During the brief session of sleep that he managed, he dreamt about orange sunsets and bluebirds.

Sanzo said nothing for the entire 8-hour ride. Goku complained less often about hunger, which meant Hakkai jokingly checked his fever at one point and Gojyo made snarky remarks about “Mom” and Sanzo decided Gojyo didn’t need warnings any more.

“Shit!” Gojyo rubbed at his probably-stinging cheek. Sanzo put away the harisen. “What a violent priest.”

Goku slunk down in his seat, the wings brushing Sanzo’s legs. Sanzo vaguely wondered if this was on purpose, realized Goku had no control over where his wings were in the back seat of the car, and tried desperately to ignore the lightness of their touch against his skin.

“So,” said Hakkai, breaking up the silence, “it seems as if we’re gonna get a bit of action tonight.”

“What kind?” said Gojyo.

“I hear there’s a rather large group of demons living in the forest in the town we’re headed to,” said Hakkai.

“Oh, that kind,” said Gojyo. “What about the other kind?”

Hakkai snorted.

At least some of them were talking. Sanzo was aware that the silence between himself and Goku was upsetting the balance, but he didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t even know where to begin.

He pretended to fall asleep instead.

That night, Sanzo opted to room with Hakkai, which was going to cause all kinds of problems for Gojyo and Goku but they were nowhere near the problems they’d have if Goku and Sanzo ended up rooming together the way that they usually did. Sanzo did what he usually did when things got to be too crushingly claustrophobic, which was to find a bar downtown (a quiet, low-key one, where Goku and Gojyo were unlikely to look for him), and fully enjoy the use of his gold credit card.

Hakkai was another matter, and he found Sanzo fairly quickly.

“So,” said Hakkai, taking in the quantity of shot glasses that lay in front of Sanzo. Probably the cigarrette packs didn’t escape his notice either, Sanzo thought, although the moment was kind of a blur. In fact, by this point, everything was kind of a blur, and not the pleasant buzzy kind. “I take it things are difficult at the moment?”

“What gave you that idea?”

Hakkai sat down next to him (probably at one point Sanzo had threatened to or actually attempted to shoot another bar patron, he wasn’t really sure anymore, but whichever it was, he had in fact succeeded in clearing a wide berth around himself) and signalled to the bartender. Sanzo didn’t catch what he said, but the bartender brought Hakkai a drink.

“It’s just,” said Sanzo, waving a cigarette at Hakkai, who dodged it. “I... I don’t know.”

“Is it Goku?” asked Hakkai quietly.

Sanzo couldn’t even say that much, not to Hakkai, who pretty much was the epitome of calm and collected ever since... well, ever since right after he’d been the epitome of furious and unrelenting rage, Sanzo guessed.

No. He couldn’t tell Hakkai what he thought. It was patently ridiculous. He couldn’t try to explain to Hakkai the way that things with Goku had turned Sanzo from ordinary issues to complete mess.

And okay, so Sanzo on a regular basis took the cake when it came to being a mess. He was a complete and utter disaster. He was an unrepentant murderer, alcoholic, smoking, angry, priest-in-name-only, poor bastard who had gotten stuck in a ridiculous war in Heaven and Earth, and there was nothing he wanted in the world, not even to be out of it.

Except until now, because now, he wanted to do… something with Goku, like he’d never wanted anything before. He wanted to bury his face in Goku’s wings, breathe deeply, and never let go. But it was more than that, too, he realized, because he also wanted Goku himself, in a way he had never wanted human contact before (and technically speaking, didn’t want now, because Goku was hardly human in a literal sense).

He wanted to touch him, to see his golden eyes light up, to run his hands through Goku’s hair and to see him smile, hear him laugh. He wanted to kiss him. He wanted to touch the stupid wings until Goku moaned.

He wanted, and that alone was enough for serious ramifications, religiously and within his divine mission—

Except that was all bullshit, because what Sanzo really meant was “I fucking hate this feeling.”

“I,” he opened his mouth to explain to Hakkai, who was smiling at him expectantly, “I want—”

Hakkai’s eyes widened.

“Go on,” he said curiously, taking out his monocle to shine it against his shirt.

Sanzo threw up right then, which hadn’t happened since he was 12.

It sort of precluded any sort of heart-to-heart, which was just fine actually. Hakkai helped him back to the hotel, and Sanzo fell asleep, miserable.

 Hakkai woke him up at 3 am, and Sanzo had a massive headache, and the alcohol had not yet entirely left his system.

“If this isn’t an emergency—” he began to growl. Hakkai raised an eyebrow, and that was when he realized that Gojyo and Goku were in the room, too.

“You think I’d wake you up for something stupid? There are demons looking for us out there.”

“So drive them off and get back to bed.”

“There are a lot of demons,” said Gojyo. “Oh, sorry, did I say a lot? I meant a whole fucking army of them, practically. Goons, but what can you do—oh, and some of them have fucking guns.”

Sanzo sat up.

“Fine,” he said.

Gojyo looked at Hakkai.

“Hakkai and I can go out and try to take out as many as we can,” he said. “Sanzo, is that all right? Goku can stay here with you.”

“Um,” said Hakkai, making his polite-interruption face that involved a rather cold smile, “I don’t think—”

“It’s fine,” said Sanzo. Goku didn’t say anything, so Sanzo figured he didn’t care, either.

“Any minute now,” said Gojyo, peering out the window, “they’re gonna get to the innkeeper’s dau—”

There was a high-pitched girlish scream.

“That’s our cue,” said Hakkai, and he and Gojyo left.

Goku and Sanzo were left alone. Sanzo didn’t know what to say.

Sorry I fondled your feathers yesterday? Sorry you kind of groped me and you fell off the bed because I freaked out? Sorry I haven’t spoken to you all day?

Sorry that you don’t realize this is the worst idea in the world?

Sorry, in general, was not in Sanzo’s vocabulary, but looking at Goku awkwardly staring at the lamp on the bedside table, nearly identical to the one they’d broken, he wondered if maybe it was the time to make an exception.

Like hell, he decided, rather vindictively. It was better this way. Detachment, that was what was important.

It was physical detachment that had always been easy for him. More than easy. It had come naturally to him, in a way that it seemed to not really come naturally to anyone else he’d ever met who talked about the subject. And that was the problem in the first place. Because he hadn’t planned it—he hadn’t meant to—it had just happened, and Sanzo had never wanted anything like that. Sanzo would have been fine without it, but Goku was curious. And Goku had always followed Sanzo, it was true, but Sanzo would have followed Goku anywhere, too.

But not there.

How could he say that?

There was a crash against the door, which meant that the demons had found them.

Hakkai and Gojyo, though they were probably fine, couldn’t hold all of the demons off, not if there were as many as Gojyo said, and it was at this point in Sanzo’s breakthrough that they burst in through the door. Five of them, to be exact, but more were probably on the way.

“Here we go,” said Goku softly, and leapt. Sanzo shot two of them as Goku dealt with the other three.

Not so bad, thought Sanzo, although they’ll keep coming in faster.

And so they did. More kept flooding in, until they had to wonder about Hakkai and Gojyo. But sounds from outside told them that those two were dealing just fine, if the occasional few slipped past.

Sanzo and Goku were also managing it until five burst in with guns, and Sanzo was fast to draw his, but not even he could deal with five all at once. Shit, he thought in a brief, blind panic, not now, I should’ve at least said sorr—

A wing shot out in front of Sanzo, just as a gunshot cracked through the air, and a terrible pang of relief, a physical ache, shot through Sanzo’s heart even as he worried about the wing. But he knew. He’d always known, he could trust Goku would protect him in battle no matter what. The wing shuddered, but nothing happened. The youkai stared at them—Goku in particular.

“Oh my God,” breathed Goku, “they’re bulletproof. And it only kinda stings.”

Suddenly, Sanzo was wrapped in feathers, and they were getting in his mouth and his eyes and his nose, and he was crushed against Goku, who had pulled them up against the wall and was currently shielding him with as much feather surface area as he could. There were a couple more half-hearted shots at the wings—Sanzo could feel the shock of them through the feathers, it was going to leave bruises—and then nothing.

“Sorry, Sanzo,” said Goku, from behind Sanzo, his breath tickling Sanzo’s ears, “but I wasn’t really sure what else to do, and Hakkai and Gojyo can take care of themselves, right?”

Hakkai and Gojyo, Sanzo could hear, were still having a battle of their own in the next room over. So yeah, they could take care of themselves.

“Okay,” said Sanzo, unable to breathe, and not because the wings were crushing him or anything. His heart pounded in his chest. “You need to fucking let me shoot those youkai, so... I don’t know, give me a hole in these stupid wings to see through.”

“Got it,” said Goku, not at all insulted. In fact, he was probably pleased that Sanzo was speaking to him again, and Sanzo suspected that maybe he wasn’t fooling anyone anymore with the condescending “you dumbass” approach to leadership. Goku moved one of the wings so that Sanzo could see through it a little, and wedge the barrel of his gun through. The youkai were staring at each other, one of them shrugging his shoulders at the others in what was clearly a what-do-we-do-now query. Bang. Bang. Bang. Bang. One of them fell, and the others dragged him out.

Which left the two of them alone. Sanzo turned to face him, still wrapped in the wings. They were so surprisingly strong, but velvety-soft and clean still, even after days of riding in the car through the dirt.

“More—more might come in,” Goku explained, although a furious blush was creeping up on his face. Sanzo suddenly realized that, in the hand that wasn’t clutching the gun, his fingers were entwined with the feathers. He let go. Goku’s blush didn’t go away. He’d relaxed his wings so that they weren’t pressed up against one another, but that didn’t mean that they were at any distance that Sanzo normally would have considered outside his personal space.

“So,” said Sanzo. “Bulletproof. That’s... actually kinda useful.”

“Yeah!” said Goku excitedly. “You were right. There was something useful about them.”

There was a silence. Goku’s breath was hot against Sanzo’s collarbone, and his hair, against all odds, smelled kinda nice. Useful though it might have been, the bulletproof wings were fucking awkward.

“There don’t seem to be any more youkai coming,” Sanzo said.

He could have moved. He didn’t.

Goku didn’t either.

Goku’s eyes shone gold, even in the dark cold moonlight, and there was a look on his face Sanzo hadn’t really seen before. It was a more subtle version of his usual wicked grin, and Sanzo figured that maybe this was one of those times to drag out the old platitude “you learn something new every day.” Specifically, in this case, that Goku was capable of subtlety. Sanzo put up an arm bracing himself against the wall-too close too close too close—but at the same time, he didn’t... want to leave.

Sanzo sort of expected Hakkai or Gojyo to burst into the room at the moment.

They didn’t.

He glanced back at Goku, who was still looking at him, cheeks flushed and wicked grin still in place. Then the grin disappeared, and Goku actually looked kind of serious.

Shit, thought Sanzo.

“Sanzo,” Goku said, a little breathlessly, “can I k—”

Sanzo pushed outwards, with the hand that was balancing him against the wall, and broke through Goku’s wing-shield. Probably partly due to shock, and due to the fact that he hadn’t quite mastered the use of them yet, Goku’s wings parted easily, and Sanzo went to sit on his bed, while the wings fell back. He inspected the bullet holes in the wall, several feet away from Goku. Goku remained where he was. He folded his arms, and stared stubbornly at his shoes.

“Go check on Hakkai and Gojyo,” said Sanzo, running a hand through his hair.

Goku didn’t say anything, just did it. Sanzo stared at the place where he had been for a moment, wishing Goku would’ve complained about the task, whined about food, anything but just done what he’d said (he had half a mind to level his gun at Goku’s form and demand that the impostor quit it), then dug around in his pockets for a cigarette.

When he found one and lit up, refusing to admit to himself that his hands were shaking, Goku came back in.

“They’re fine,” he said flatly, shutting the door behind himself a little louder than was necessary. “I told them the wings were bulletproof. Hakkai was already asleep on a bed in the other room. I think he got injured and had to heal himself.”

“So you’re staying here,” said Sanzo.

“Yeah,” said Goku. “If you don’t mind.”

Sanzo refused to look at him. Goku turned over in his bed, and Sanzo smoked, standing at the window, for as long as he could stand being awake. 

The next morning, everyone was sleep-deprived and crankier with each other than usual. Or, everyone except Sanzo, who had decided that he just wasn’t going to talk. Hakkai kept looking between Sanzo and Goku like he thought something was different, but wasn’t sure what and was afraid to ask. Gojyo’s sarcasm was even less well-received than usual, and after even Goku could not be made to laugh, even Gojyo could tell something was wrong, and shut up.

It was Hakkai who had to deal with the sudden shift southwards in group dynamics. Sanzo’s harisen, despite the bad mood, didn’t come out even once. Too much of a trouble, he thought, and besides, he didn’t even want to think about how he was screwing things up.

But even a bad mood didn’t keep Goku from being hungry, although it was that same bad mood in the Sanzo-ikkou that probably kept him from getting lunch until late in the afternoon.

Hakkai sipped at tea, having cleared a plate in record timing—while Goku and Gojyo were busy clearing four or five. Sanzo was not particularly hungry. After lunch, Hakkai professed a desire to wander around the town briefly, and Sanzo professed a need to stay out of that stupid cramped car for a little while longer.

They left the gold card with Goku and Gojyo, and wandered down the street, happening upon a tiny park which seemed like a good place to stop and rest.

“So,” said Hakkai, “Goku didn’t ask for your leftovers at lunch today. And you didn’t eat.”

Sanzo glanced at him.

“So?”

“Did... something happen?”

Sanzo scowled at him.

“No. Nothing—what the hell does that even mean?”

Hakkai shrugged.

“Just wondering.”

“Well, you can keep your wondering to yourself,” said Sanzo.

“And if something did happen,” said Hakkai, very softly, in that way that the monks always did when they wanted the classes of students to shut up, “I would tell you that you’ve got to do something about it. I’ve told you before, he cares about you a great deal. You’ve got to tell him he’s got the wrong idea. You’re just hurting him. And—no matter what you say, I know that’s the last thing you want.”

“He doesn’t,” said Sanzo. Hakkai had meant that to hurt, Sanzo knew, and it did, just not in the way Hakkai had evidently expected, and his jaw dropped. He was, however, Sanzo’s... closest friend (probably), for a reason, and that was that he quickly shut his mouth and resumed his placid smile. And that, Sanzo knew, would be the end of that can of worms. “Or he does, but I don’t want what he wants. I don’t think—I don’t think it can work.”

Sanzo picked a bench and sat down on it. Hakkai sat down next to him.

As for the topic at hand, Sanzo knew what Hakkai was saying. He just couldn’t let this happen, let whatever it was that he felt towards Goku grow. It was even less fair to Goku. It’d trap them in something. It’d change everything.

“Okay,” said Hakkai. “So, try that one again. I’m afraid that didn’t make a lot of sense.”

“It bothers me,” said Sanzo, “because I never wanted this.”

“Well,” said Hakkai, “what did you want?”

“I wanted him to grow up,” said Sanzo. “I wanted him to leave. I wanted him to be happy.”

Hakkai frowned.

“And you don’t think he’ll be happy with you?”

“No,” said Sanzo. And with Hakkai, the words came easily. Hakkai was not easily embarrassed. “Because I don’t… I’ve never wanted any of the physical stuff.”

Hakkai still frowned, not directly looking at him, and that made it easier somehow. “I imagine Goku is a very physical person.”

Sanzo leaned forward, lighting a cigarette and trying to pretend like his skin wasn’t crawling while he discussed this topic. It was Hakkai though. Hakkai was pretty safe to talk to, as Sanzo knew he would never, ever judge another person’s decisions or feelings unless specifically asked to.

“I know you haven’t kissed,” said Hakkai, even-toned. “You don’t have to tell me any more than you want to, but—would you enjoy it?”

“Kissing’s fine,” admitted Sanzo, a little gruffly. “I think. I’m not sure. I never have. I think after that it gets… hazy.”

Hakkai’s face remained expressionless.

“You never have to do more than you want to,” he said. “It will be… easiest if you communicate that to Goku. I expect Goku doesn’t want to hurt you. I expect you feel like you’re hurting him, and perhaps he even thinks so too, but he knows you would never do that on purpose. But that isn’t what you’re doing, I suspect.”

Sanzo’s face burned. Hakkai finally glanced at him.

“I can’t say I’ve known many people like you,” said Hakkai, “But I do know that kind of relationship can be done, if that’s what you want. It will be more difficult for you, I imagine, but I’m sure you won’t be the first to attempt it.”

Sanzo stared at him.

“You didn’t know?” asked Hakkai. “Oh, Sanzo. There are other people in the world who don’t like sex. You say ‘what comes after kissing’, like it’s a progression, but it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“Doesn’t feel like that to me,” said Sanzo, glancing around to see if anyone was near enough to have heard. A few other people were scattered throughout the path, since it was a nice night, but none of them were near.

“I promise you, you aren’t the only one who feels that way,” said Hakkai. “Would you like to hear my personal experience?”

“You and Gojyo are fucking,” said Sanzo. “How is it anything like mine?”

“Well, yes, we are,” said Hakkai. “And I enjoy it, with Gojyo. But I wouldn’t even consider him that way if I hadn’t known him for years, and Gojyo knows that about me, and he’s rather understanding of it. Our snags tended to be along the lines of deciding whether we were going to be monogamous or not, which was, of course, an entirely different question and our own fault for not properly discussing our relationship.”

“Glad you worked it out,” said Sanzo. Hakkai cleared his throat.

“More to the point, I thought—with Kanan—our marriage was, well, rather more sexless than I think they tend to be. We only—well, you know—a handful of times. And of course, most people really aren’t like Gojyo, but even fewer are like us.”

Sanzo took a drag from his cigarette.

“Advice?” 

“Gojyo and I have come to an understanding,” said Hakkai. “It was irritating, and difficult. You and Goku should do the same, taking into respect your different preferences. The understanding may or may not include fucking.”

There was a long pause as Sanzo digested this. Hakkai made it sound so… easy.

“It’s those goddamn wings,” said Sanzo.

He… really liked touching the wings. He liked seeing Goku’s face when he did, liked knowing it was his own hands that brought Goku whatever it was he felt.

Hakkai raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, that is unfortunate,” he said.

“It fucking is,” said Sanzo, and then sat upright, utterly embarrassed, as a cloaked, large figure came towards them, followed by a taller, thinner one.

“There you are!”

And they were off again.

The demons caught up with them again that night. Having known that the demons were coming, they decided that they’d prefer to keep driving, as opposed to risk an entire inn’s worth of bystanders.

Nobody was much in a mood for sleeping, anyway.

Four leapt in front of their car, snarling.

“Here we go,” said Gojyo, and took off towards the east. Hakkai swerved the Jeep and ran to deal with the northern side. Sanzo would have preferred to use the Jeep as a hiding place, except Hakuryu had other ideas and flew off to join Hakkai, landing the rest of them unceremoniously on the ground. Sanzo stood up shakily. Fine. Whatever. He’d deal with them face to face.

That, too, did not pan out. Yeah, sure, Goku dealt quickly with the scores of demons wielding sticks and clubs, but Sanzo ended up behind a tree, hiding from the few with guns, which was where Goku found him about twenty minutes later.

Goku caught him in his wings again, bullets bouncing off. This time, however, they were not backed up against a wall, and Sanzo could see the youkai coming up behind them. Goku’s wings could only reach so far if he was also covering Sanzo.

And it was dark, in the forest they’d ended up in. Sanzo could barely see, since the moonlight had difficulty shining through the thick treetops.

There was a lull in the fighting. Goku remained silent, not looking at Sanzo, but holding the wings around him at a respectable distance, as far as he could go while still keeping Sanzo protected. It wasn’t probably as effective as holding him close, but Sanzo appreciated the effort anyway.

And yeah, maybe it wasn’t the best time to talk, but for once in his life Sanzo hated the silence, and knew that Goku would never, ever break it, knew that Goku was afraid to push him. But it was his turn to say what he wanted.

“We have to talk,” said Sanzo. “We have to talk about a lot of things. This isn’t the relationship I thought we’d have.”

Goku stared at him for a moment, but didn’t seem surprised, or even annoyed that Sanzo was bringing it up during a skirmish, just unsure.

“But do you mind?” asked Goku.

“I mind a lot of things," said Sanzo. “I don’t... mind spending the rest of my life with you. I mind... other things. Like. Well, fucking.”

It felt good to say it.

“Oh,” said Goku. He looked confused.

“If you don't want to do this,” said Sanzo. “I’d get it.”

“I want to be with you, whatever that means,” said Goku firmly. “Sanzo, I’ve known since you brought me out of the cage that I’d follow you forever.”

It couldn’t possibly be that easy. It wouldn’t be. There would be problems.

“I just want to tell you,” said Sanzo, feeling a little bit awkward. “I don’t know what we’re going to do.” Goku was still staring at him with such weird, perfect trust in his eyes, like he always did. How could he look at Sanzo like that when things were going to be so complicated?

“That’s fine,” said Goku. “Sanzo, I—I want you to know, whatever you want. It’s fine. You can tell me. I get that I gotta be careful, and I can do that.”

“Kissing, though,” said Sanzo. “Kissing’s fine. Probably.”

“Can I?” asked Goku. “I really—I really, really want to. Tell me if it’s not fine, okay?”

“I will,” said Sanzo.

Goku pulled him closer again, and turned out to be kind of aggressive, which somehow made everything so much better, although Sanzo surprised the both of them by running his hands through Goku’s hair, and somehow not tugging on all the knots (stupid kid could stand to brush his hair every once in a while, though). They ended up tangled together, wings and arms and legs in a giant jumble of need to be close to you.

Probably they should have been more careful of the guns. Sanzo usually didn’t give a shit, and they were half in the middle of a battle, but it would have been stupid to accidentally shoot himself at that moment. He switched on the safety, and put it on the ground next to him. He had to lean down a bit, that five inches of height difference between them made things kind of difficult, but in the end, it was worth it.

Sanzo couldn’t see anything through the feathers—or... oh. He’d closed his eyes. The feathers brushed against them, pulling them closer together and shielding them from the world around them, even with the threat gone. Goku broke off the kiss, and made a happy mmm noise, brushing their cheeks together.

“Don’t stop,” said Sanzo, embarrassed at how his voice cracked.

“So you do like kissing,” said Goku, burying his nose in Sanzo's neck, running it up and down the side. Sanzo did not mind this, especially when Goku bit at his ear.

That was good. That was really, really good.

“Yeah. I do. Shut up,” said Sanzo, although it didn’t come out as harshly as it usually did.

“I love you,” said Goku.

“It’s kinda soon for that,” muttered Sanzo.

Goku leaned his head against Sanzo’s chest.

“No,” said Goku. “It kinda isn’t too soon, actually.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Not like Sanzo didn’t know. This had been a long time coming. Maybe not since the very beginning—certainly not since the cave, or even the monastery after that, but... for a while. Since the beginning of the journey at least.

“I wonder where the wings came from,” said Goku suddenly, breathlessly. “I mean, I wonder what Kougaiji was trying to do. I kinda think this wasn’t it.”

“Do you care?” asked Sanzo, running a hand through the feathers and making Goku gasp-moan-shiver.

“Yeah, okay, not really,” said Goku, “it so doesn’t matter. As long as you keep doing th-that, oh my God.”

“Glad we agree,” said Sanzo. He paused for a minute, not knowing whether what he was going to say would change everything. It might. It might not. It wasn’t anything that anyone looking at them didn’t already know, anyway. And it had always been the truth.

“I... love you, too,” he said.

Goku laughed (“Why’re you always so stupid about these things, Sanzo?”), and kissed him again.

Goku kept his hands firmly at the waist or above, not too probing, which Sanzo appreciated, and particularly at the waist when he discovered Sanzo was ticklish there. It was pleasant to have Goku run his hands up and down Sanzo’s sides, if he just kept them there, which he did.

Sanzo could have done this forever, except—

The ground shook, and the two of them jumped and sprung apart, searching for the source of the noise.

Kougaiji got up from a crouching position, shaking out a pair of well-groomed, shining black wings. They gleamed red in the moonlight. Sanzo scrambled for the gun, clicking it back on. Not that it would do anything to Kougaiji.

“Sorry to interrupt,” said Kougaiji, and the worst part was that he really did look apologetic. “I’ve come to take the Maten Sutra, Genjo Sanzo.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Goku, grinning and spreading his wings. “I think I’ve gotta thank you for a gift you gave me.”

Kougaiji coughed delicately.

“I see my spell did misfire, and hit us both. I thought that might have happened, as I channeled some of the energy you give off during attacks—seemed a shame to waste it, and I required the boost. I heard from some of my associates that you were asking after my wings, and then some other very strange rumors, and then I began to suspect. But it's no matter.”

“Seems kinda fun that we’re both gonna fight with our new wings,” said Goku.

“Well, I don’t know that I’d say fun,” said Kougaiji, springing forward. Goku blocked his punch easily, twisting and catching his fist. “I did mean to give myself an advantage—oh!”

Goku swung around so Kougaiji was at his back, still holding his fist, and flicked out a wing and nearly knocked him over, forcing him back while still holding his wrist. Sanzo heard the crack of the wings against Kougaiji’s jaw, and winced.

“I see you’ve adjusted well,” said Kougaiji, ducking under so that Goku was forced to let go of his hand. He retreated, and dodged Sanzo’s half-hearted shot. “That was a powerful strike. Well-executed.”

“Came up with it all by myself,” said Goku proudly.

“Did you?” asked Kougaiji, fists lighting up as he summoned fire. “Well, let me show you some of what I’ve learned.”

Kougaiji launched forward again, using a beat of the wings to propel his attack and again to launch himself upward, higher than he could have jumped, turning an on-the-ground attack into an air strike that knocked over Goku, tackling him from above and catching him around the neck. Goku yelled and Sanzo’s heart leapt, but Goku rolled out from underneath and was back on his feet in a matter of moments, having stamped out where the flames had caught his shirt. The clearing smelled of burning hair.

But Kougaiji didn’t stop there. He caught him and threw him into a tree across the clearing, using the wings for momentum again. Goku lay there for a moment, crumpled at the base of the tree, and then he began to sit up, shaking his own wings out.

“Sanzo, get back,” he yelled. “It’s the sutra he wants, but if he’s fighting me, he can’t take it.”

“Shouldn’t yell out your strategy to your enemies,” said Kougaiji, and then Goku tackled him again, dragging him upwards as Kougaiji clawed at him to get him to let go, and then they were gone.

There was yelling from above as the battle took to the skies, and Sanzo wanted desperately to shoot but knew he had just as much of a chance to hit Goku.

And then, of course, the youkai armies caught up to them again. Sanzo shot at several, and took off running. He looked with dismay at his waning supply of bullets, and found a tree to hide in, branches scraping at his sides and arms aching as he climbed for the first time in—well, years probably. He climbed up to the top and pushed aside branches to see.

Two figures still fought in the sky, but they moved too fast and it was too dark to tell which was which. Sanzo could see pinpricks of light—Kougaiji’s fire—but couldn’t determine who was wielding it. One figure was trying to get back to the ground, but the other kept grabbing them and flinging them in another direction, and the fight began to drift further and further away from where they’d been. Sanzo watched, the silence of the forest almost overwhelming after the sounds of battle. His ears still rang from the shots he’d fired, but around him now, the forest was very nearly still, and the silvery light of the stars outlined the leaves of the trees around him.

It was a nice night, really.

He just had to trust Goku would come back. There was nothing he could do now except sit in the tree and trust in Goku’s wings to hold him up.

One figure managed to land a hell of a punch directly on the chin of the other, and whichever one it was that got punched dropped out of the sky like a rock. The one that remained in the air let out a whoop. A very familiar whoop.

Sanzo stuck his head above the canopy of trees.

“Hey!” he yelled. “Goku! Over here!”

The figure began the long flight back, growing against the horizon until finally Goku, bright-eyed and sporting an impressive bruise on his cheek, landed heavily on the tree next to him, rippling the leaves and branches through several trees around.

“They’re gonna notice that below us,” said Sanzo.

“Like they didn’t notice your yelling,” said Goku, face flushed and sweating. “Oh, man. That was a good fight. That was a really cool fight. Did you see it? I wanna do it again.”

“It was awesome,” said Sanzo, absurdly pleased at how happy Goku looked about it. Goku grinned.

An unfamiliar voice beneath them yelled, “There they are!”

And that was that. Goku scooped him up in the wings, pressing him against the tree trunk. It was a little hard to balance, but Goku supported himself on the branches.

“You know, there are youkai behind you, too,” said Sanzo. “How do you plan on shielding yourself from those?”

“Easy,” said Goku, and he said it so convincingly that Sanzo really did believe him. “You shoot ‘em all. I’ve got your back covered, and kinda mine too.”

“You might as well fight,” said Sanzo. “I don’t need your protection. I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe later,” said Goku. “Thin ‘em out, all right? Then I’ll go fight.”

And so Sanzo found himself not nearly as close to Goku as he wanted. It was Sanzo who tugged him closer, and Goku stared up at him questioningly.

“Okay?” asked Goku.

“It’s fine,” said Sanzo.

Even though it was awkward, they made short work of the few that were left, and even managed to turn around—

“Hang on,” Goku said, and picked him up, turning 180 degrees. The world spun, and for a terrible moment, Sanzo thought they were going to fall off the branch and fall down twenty feet directly into the lap of the youkai they were fighting. He clung to Goku, not nearly as terrified as he could have been.

But still.

“What the hell. Warn me next time.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Goku, grinning mischievously.

The ones that didn’t die ran off. Sanzo and Goku stayed there.

It was a mutual choice this time. Sanzo was uncomfortable, sure, but on the other hand, he wanted this. This, right here, Goku warm and solid against him. It was new. He was afraid, but he was happy.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous at all, not even as Goku studied him. They didn’t move apart. Goku’s eyes are, Sanzo thought, and didn’t finish it, because it seemed stupid to use the words beautiful or nice or any of those other things.

No matter what they meant, Sanzo had always liked Goku’s eyes.

“What’ll it be?” asked Goku. “We can go and find Hakkai and Gojyo now.”

“Or, we could not,” said Sanzo.

The night was silent around them, and Goku pointed out the constellations Hakkai had taught him. Sanzo compared them to the ones that Koumyou had taught him. They spoke softly, close enough to each other to hear whispers, and anyway it seemed wrong to spoil a night like this by talking too loud. Goku’s hair brushing against Sanzo’s cheek as he lay back against his chest, spreading the wings out between them and letting them hang down, balancing on the branch that way. Goku smelled good, like sweat and dirt and leaves. Sanzo removed a stray leaf from his hair, and Goku complained that he tugged too hard.

Sanzo laughed at him, warm and comfortable despite the rough and round surface of the tree branch beneath them and the constant brushing of leaves and Goku’s hair out of his face. Goku curled his hands, knuckles bruised and bleeding, around Sanzo’s right hand, hanging down from where Sanzo had draped his arm around Goku’s shoulder, and held it close. The yellow moon rose on the horizon, a crescent smile in the corner of the sky that gleamed in the gold of Goku’s eyes, and the stars seemed impossible to count, like the freckles on Goku’s nose.

Hakkai and Gojyo came back to find them curled up around each other on the tree branch, having awkwardly navigated shoulder height differences to find the best way to be pressed together without too much discomfort.

“Look at that,” said Gojyo. “Goku and Sanzo, sitting in a tree. Dare I spell the rest?”

“Oh, no,” said Hakkai. “Best stick to the monkey in a tree jokes, I think.”

There were gonna be more demons tomorrow, but that was okay. They went on.

 “Well,” said Kanzeon Bosatsu, “Okay, so I will admit I did steal the idea from that Kougaiji fellow. I couldn’t let the enemy have an advantage our boys didn’t, and besides, I thought it would shake them up a bit. Change things. Not just save them from that disaster of a spell that Nii fellow cooked up. Really, I’m not supposed to have a stake in this, but I just want him stopped. And that would never have happened if that Kougaiji fellow had yanked out all of Goku’s life energy. That spell was—the only words that come to mind are ‘absolute shit’.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Jiroushin, in the voice he reserved for when Kanzeon Bostatsu was letting her personal feelings get in the way of her heavenly status again.

“Besides, I never meant for the rest of it to happen.”

Jiroushin looked perturbed.

“I guess it worked a little too well,” the Merciful Goddess added, with resignation.

He glanced at her, thinking over Goku and Sanzo—Goku and Konzen, too.

“I guess I don’t know how we could have expected much else,” he said.

Kanzeon Bosatsu shrugged, and smirked.

“Maybe the nerve endings in the wings were a bit much,” she admitted. “And Ko—Genjo Sanzo... Well, who knew he would react like that?”

“You certainly couldn’t have,” said Jiroushin.

“But really, they do call me ‘Merciful’ for a reason,” said Kanzeon Bosatsu. “Which is why I’m not going to take them away.”

“Of course,” Jiroushin agreed.

“And anyway,” she added, “they’ve got much harder things coming. Poor boys, they don’t even know... A little bit of armor wouldn’t hurt. And they’re a team. This appears to have only strengthened that.”

Jiroushin poured her tea, and gazed over at the flower fields of Heaven.

“You know,” he said, “I think you’re right.”

And he actually meant it, too.

“I’m always right.”