
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/12503480.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      Gen, M/M
  Fandom:
      Saiyuki
  Relationship:
      Genjo_Sanzo_&_Son_Goku
  Character:
      Genjo_Sanzo, Son_Goku_(Saiyuki)
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-10-26 Chapters: 3/? Words: 1825
****** Bless me ******
by everfire
Summary
     Sanzo is the name that he took when he came to the small village to
     bring them the word of God. Little did he know that a few short years
     later a young boy would be the key to him understanding the divine.
     AU modern setting. MXM This story will actually discuss religion.
Notes
     I do not in any way claim to have all the answers about religion. I
     also do not claim to know everything or anything about the Catholic
     church and it's inner workings.
***** Bad *****
 
“Bless me, father, for I have sinned.” The boy shifted in his seat, his knees
coming together. The priest had seen that movement before. The admission of
guilt was often coupled with the signs of shame. The child’s brown eyes turned
up and then down, fluttering from sight to sight. He bit his lips as he paused.
          The priest waited a few moments for the boy to continue, but when no
more words were forthcoming, he prompted, “How long has it been since your last
confession, child?”
          The brown-haired boy started, as if caught with his hands in a cookie
jar. His dirty fingers threaded with each other in his lap. “I uh…haven’t ever
confessed, Father. I am a recent convert.”
          Sanzo nodded. In the small town he had come to, many of the
parishioners were new converts. The town had been a pagan one as of only a few
years back, but the holy missionaries of the catholic church had seen to it
that the town had a well and that the people had a bible.
          He had not been born with the name Sanzo. The people had not
understood his foreign title and name. It had been decided to change it to
something that the locals would understand better. He was under the impression
that it was a word for a native priest of some kind.
Sanzo’s blonde hair was starting to grey, but it was still a sharp contrast to
the dark brown hair of his flock. His skin was milky, and his blue eyes were
bright even as the beginning of wrinkles formed in their corners. “Go on, my
child. What was your sin?”
          “I…uh…stole something that belonged to the old temple.” The boy said
carefully, his words broken and heavy with the local accent. Each word falling
from his lips like breaking china plates.
          Sanzo blinked and took a closer look at the parishioner. He didn’t
recognize the brown hair or honey brown eyes. His deeply tanned skin looked no
different from the other children his age. His arms and legs were strong but
gangly with the imminent adulthood creeping into his limbs.
          “What did you steal?” The priest prompted again, before turning away
to look at the bible before him.
          “Peaches.” The boy said in his crackling voice. The dim light above
them hummed with electricity. The thin dividing wall separating them was really
no more that a garden trellis repurposed.
          Sanzo scoffed inwardly. “Stealing is indeed a sin, my child. Were
those peaches not for all the people of the town? Was that not the truth of all
the temple’s goods? Can you steal something that belongs to no one?”
          Air fluffed brown hair as the boy shook it with such wild intensity.
“Not these peaches, father. These peaches were the holy relic of our people and
none were meant to touch them.”
          The irony of the boy confessing to a crime that was only a crime to a
different religion washed over the priest like cold water. He shook off the
feeling, but found his own curiosity taking over. “My child, why did you steal
the peaches? Were you hungry?”
          There was no pause this time when the boy replied, “I stole them to
do something bad.”
***** Feel *****
Chapter Summary
     Their second meeting...
It was several days until Sanzo saw the boy again. Head bowed over a rosary,
the child was the picture of a pious youth. The smell of the incense filled the
humble church, the wooden walls doing very little to hold back the wind that
whistled through the slightly cracked window panes. The boy stood before a wall
of candles with wax dripping from the table to pool on the worn floor. The
statue of the virgin Mary stood watch among the burning wax pillars. Her
painted eyes cracking in the humid air.
The priest approached slowly his black shoes making soft scuffing sounds as he
moved closer. “My child?”
The boy started as he had before, his shoulder rising up in surprise. He turned
those honey eyes up to the taller man and then he smiled. His was transformed
as the expression split his face. “Father Sanzo?”
Sanzo clutched his bible closer to his chest and the rosery swung slightly
against his fingers. “Did you come to pray today, my child?” He asked the
obvious question in the otherwise empty echoes of the church.
The boy stood from where he had been kneeling. The dust from the royal blue
pillows that dotted the floor in the prayer chamber still clung to his knees.
“I did, Father.” He looked at the ground for a beat before his smiling face
turned it’s brilliance back to Sanzo. “I have a question.”
The priest pulled on his collar that he wore under his regular clothing. The
simple white shirt and black jeans would not have given way to his profession
without the additional white collar against his skin. “Of course,” Sanzo said
with a vague gesture meant to encourage the youth to walk beside him.
“Is praying in a quiet room every day the best way to get close to God?” The
boy asked as he walked past the prayer chamber and into the chapel proper. The
empty pews were lined with similar blue pillows that the congregation would
kneel on during mass. The massive crucifix that hung on the farthest wall was
in only slightly better condition than the rest of the church that surrounded
it.
Sanzo considered the child. He pulled out a fan and waved it in the air before
his face. “It is certainly one way.”
The boy nodded, but did not seem to be satisfied his teeth worrying his bottom
lip.
Before he could say more the priest continued, “Do you not find quiet prayer to
be the way to be close to God, my son?”
His wide eyes turned back to the priest, “I just…wonder if there are better
ways?” His voice cracked and his face flushed lightly.
“Perhaps.” Sanzo said with a soft chuckle. “As you are  a young man, I could
see how quiet contemplation would be frustrating for you. What have you done to
feel God in your life?”
“I like to walk in the woods, and climb trees. Sometimes I feel like I can
sense nature just…alive around me.” His grin was soft as he looked at the
windows. The branches scraped along the glass in the evening breeze.
“Then perhaps that is a way that you can be close to the Lord.” Sanzo agreed,
“But one must have discipline as well.” The priest's fingers clenched and
released.
“Is that so, Father Sanzo?” The boy pondered eyes loosing focus for a second.
“My child?” Sanzo asked to pry the boy from his wonderings. “What is your
name?”
The sudden question seemed to catch the boy off guard as many things did. “Son
Goku.” He replied reflexively, “But please call me Goku.”
***** Tides *****
Chapter Notes
     On accident this chapter has 666 words. lol
Once again time passed, and the windy humidity gave way to hot rain. The clouds
dripped their heavy wet tears with ponderous smacks into the leaves of the
trees. Sanzo looked outside an open door as he snuck a cigarette. The smoke
coiled in the air before disappearing out of view into the storm. He closed his
eyes and sighed.
Today no prayer was whispered in the echoing halls. Instead the people of the
village struggled to prepare their homes for the impending floods. “Thank the
Lord that my home is on high ground.” Sanzo prayed for the fifth time since he
woke that morning. He silently added a curse to his bishop who had sent him on
his mission to a place where such rain was common this time of year.
His sacrilegious thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps
interrupting puddles forming on the sidewalk. He opened his eyes and was met
with tear filled honey brown ones. “Goku?” he asked unprofessionally. He cursed
again inwardly at the intrusion.
“Father! Please may I sit in the church?” He begged with no offered explanation
beyond this.
Sanzo sighed outwardly and prayed that God not give him more than he could
handle when he was already overwhelmed. “The chapel is always open to the
faithful,” he recited.
“Thank you, Father.” Goku said his eyes dimming at the sigh from the older man.
“I will try to stay out of your way as much as I can.” With that he walked
inside trailing muddy water over the wooden floor.
Sanzo took another slow drag on his cigarette before remembering that he was
not supposed to smoke in front of parishioners. The child had said nothing of
it, so perhaps that would be the end of it. His eyebrows knitted together, and
he rubbed his forehead.
After the pack was empty and crumpled in his hand, hours of watching rain
splatter had passed. It wasn’t until he saw the boys soaked body curled into a
ball that Sanzo remembered that Goku was there. “My child?”
Goku’s thin arms shivered slightly in his sleep. His dirty boots were tucked
under his butt, but the wet mess pooled on the blue pillow around him. The
white shirt was still damp enough that it clung to his chest. Sanzo bent to
gently shake the boy’s arm. Goku did not wake, but he did stir. He uncurled
slightly and moved to lay on his back. His hands came to rest on his chest, and
his mouth opened. A small amount of drool rolled down his cheek.
The priest pulled his hand away and his lip curled up on one side. “Ugh.” Sanzo
took a step back. A small whimper escaped the boy’s lips.  
When the sun came out the next morning, Goku woke bathed in sunlight tinted by
stained glass. Sometime while he had slept a plush green blanket had been
tucked around his form. The boy wiped dried spit from his face and blinked his
eyes heavily. Sitting before him on a pillow that stood in for a pew was Father
Sanzo, his head bowed in prayer.
“Father?” Goku asked blearily.
Sanzo did not move and his eyes remained closed. “Yes, my son?”
“I…” The chopped words came crashing out as Goku tried to make his words clear,
“I’m sorry, Father. Did I really sleep here all night?”
Sanzo scoffed, “Yes, Goku, you slept here all night. You made quite a mess of
yourself and my church.” He wrapped red rosary bead around his wrist and stood.
“I..I’m sorry I couldn’t help it. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Goku
whimpered, struggling to his feet.
The priest sighed, “Grow a backbone, kid.” With a swift turn Sanzo was facing
the cowering child. “Everything will be ok.” His comforting hand rested on
Goku’s shoulder for a few moments before he turned away again. “As soon as you
clean up after yourself, and take a bath. You smell like a wet monkey.”
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