escapefromreality | Fic: Going Home (Saiyuki)

Kouryuu and the travelling circus head for Kinzan.

"I'm hungry! Can we get something to eat?"

"Not now," Kouryuu said, dragging their cases along. "Goku, carry your own damn case! We need to get to the far platform! The local connection is due in three minutes!"

"Stop being silly, Goku," Hakkai said. "We'll get a snack on the train." He looked around the station dubiously, clearly thinking that food might not have been invented so far out in the sticks.

The last local connection they'd transferred to had been deemed stone age by Goku, who had stared in excitement at regional delicacies and wolfed as many as he was allowed. Kouryuu folded his arms and waited for the complaints. He was sure the line out to the towns near Kinzan hadn't had an upgrade in the decade since he'd been away.

"Kouryuu," Hakkai murmured, looking down at the track. "Ah, what is that?"

"Train tracks."

"Are you sure?" Hakkai looked up at the wires overhead. "Really, are you sure?"

The station system chimed for an incoming train and Kouryuu gave them both a bland look.

"Whoa," Goku said as it drew closer. "What the shit?"

"Don’t fucking swear, you little shit!"

"Goku, language. You too, Kouryuu."

"Whatever. It's a surface train, Goku."

The train drew up at the platform, the door precisely opposite them. There was a gentle hissing sound as it opened.

"Wow. Is it powered by dinosaurs?"

"That's actually my question as well," Hakkai said cheerfully.

"Yeah," Kouryuu said. "It is powered by fucking dinosaurs. All aboard."

It was even more of a shock to them not to have assigned seating and to find empty seats all around the carriage. Goku sat in a window seat at one, pressing his nose against the plastic and staring out avidly, seeming glad of the slower speed so that he could take his surroundings in. He even barely seemed to register when Kouryuu took out one of the carefully hoarded fruit bars and slid it across the table to him. A miracle.

"I didn't realise you were so much of a country boy," Hakkai said, tearing his own gaze away from woods and fields.

"Huh," Kouryuu said in sardonic amusement. "And here I was, thinking you'd watched all those damn documentaries. Don't they all start, Idyllic Kinzan monastery, set far from the bustle of city life . . .?"

"I don't think I realised what that meant until now," Hakkai said.

"We're not there yet."

Hakkai looked interested, damn it.

"Fuck it, just ask."

"It must have been hard, the difference when you came to the capital."

Kouryuu looked at the table. He couldn't remember a single moment of the journey clearly. All he remembered was laypeople and monks arguing about what to do with him, and then Professor Jikaku telling him he was his father's friend and would look after him.

"Kids are resilient," he said. "I got on with things."

"You've done well," Hakkai said, not pushing the issue. "More than well – " He nodded at Goku. "He's flourishing, Kouryuu; you should be proud."

"Like I need you to tell me that," Kouryuu muttered as Hakkai hid a smile.

After an hour he got them up and ready to leap from the train. It had barely stopped for more than ninety seconds at each of the local stations so far, and he wasn't in the mood for dawdling.

They stood, a little breathless, on the platform, looking around. Kouryuu took a breath. He'd written, of course. He'd arranged a pick-up. He was dreading it, and knew he had to face it head on. Standing at the back of the platform was a solitary monk in the grey robes he found he remembered perfectly. He strode towards the man.

"I'm Rin Kouryuu."

"Most Blessed and Holy San-"

The man attempted to prostrate himself. Kouryuu grabbed him and held him up.

"No. No. None of that. I'm a layman, dammit. Thanks for coming to collect us."

The monk bowed, smiling shyly, and led them to the oldest, most decrepit-looking transport that Kouryuu had ever seen. He was fairly sure it was the same ancient one the monastery had owned when he was a boy. Goku hung back, staring at it in frank distrust until Hakkai physically pushed him in, and they were off.

"How does this thing even move?" Goku said in a piercing whisper.

"A rechargeable battery, young sir," the monk said.

Goku went pink and shut up for all of two blessed minutes, though he fidgeted until Kouryuu wanted to shriek.

"Kouryuu," Goku whispered, at slightly less than his previous level, "I'm hungry."

At least the warnings to drop the sanzo bullshit out here were still working. Kouryuu pulled out another of the fruit bars. He'd be in such trouble when they ran out. The road got quieter and smaller, the woods got closer. Goku and Hakkai looked alarmed: more and more out of place, two city boys dumped in the awful countryside.

At last the transport turned between two stone pillars and up a curved, paved way towards a cluster of large, low-set buildings. Kouryuu shifted, expecting to stop by the first of them: that had been the guest house when he was last there. They drove on, however, skirting the other buildings and pulled up as close as they could to a small house set back from the others. The paving had run out, and there was a smooth lawn leading up to the steps; they'd have to cart the cases over the grass.

The monk hopped out and opened the door for them. Kouryuu got out, staring at the veranda, willing the door to slide open and for his father somehow to be standing there, long-stemmed pipe in hand and his usual mild smile on his face. Nothing. The door remained closed. They couldn't want him to stay here. Not where it had all happened.

"Welcome home," the monk said, inclining his head.

Kouryuu stood there, his face like thunder. It was more dignified than weeping like a child.