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"Gojyo, no!"
At Hakkai's words, Goku looked up from his packing. Gojyo was stomping out the door of the half-ruined little farmhouse with a bundle of clothing in his arms, white silk and black, and blue denim. His expression was ... well, too complicated for Goku. Angry, sad, and kind of wild, too.
Hakkai left the food he'd been sorting and wrapping on the battered table and followed his partner. After a second, Goku went to the door to look. Gojyo was already back, sitting on the steps. lighting a cigarette and not looking at either of them. The extra clothes that Sanzo had left behind were dimly visible in the darkness, scattered in one corner of the farmyard where the trees of the mountain forest were encroaching. Hakkai was starting to gather up the garments. Goku joined him, shaking the jeans and singlet and arm warmers out, and hanging them over his arm as Hakkai dealt with the robes, brushing leaves and dirt off of them. Goku could smell Sanzo on the clothing.
He'd been able - almost - to avoid thinking about Sanzo for the last couple of days, as they waited for Hakkai to feel strong enough to face a day of driving. Now the feeling of loss was like a kick in the stomach. Sanzo ... .
He followed Hakkai inside again, past Gojyo, who was staring out at the dark trees as though he hoped they'd speak to him, maybe explain (thought Goku) how they'd ended up this way. He'd love to know that, himself.
Hakkai put the robes down next to one of the satchels and hesitated a moment. Then he looked at Goku. "Would you like to pack them up for me?"
Wordlessly, Goku nodded, hard. Hakkai left the white silk and returned to the food, reaching out to squeeze Goku's shoulder as he passed.
Goku folded everything as carefully as he could. If he closed his eyes, it was like Sanzo was standing right there. Tobacco, but with a different note than Gojyo's. Paper and ink. Not much food smell - Sanzo never ate enough. That Hazel won't make him eat, like Hakkai did. His eyes prickled, and his nose.
He picked up the singlet and buried his face in it. Sweat, and something less identifiable: warm and almost dusty, but pleasant and happy, like clean soil baking under the summer sun. Sanzo.
He looked around, quickly. Hakkai was still busy. Goku hastily packed the rest of the clothing, then stuffed the singlet into his own pack.
Eventually, Gojyo came back in, with deep shadows under his eyes, and they all went bed. When the breathing of the other two settled into the rhythm of slumber, Goku reached down and pulled the black silk out again, and hugged it tight against his chest, carefully holding it away from his tears. Finally, he tucked it under his pillow, and drifted reluctantly into sleep.
Oh, Sanzo!