"Thank you."

"No problem." the boy said. "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore. Who taught you to dress wounds?"

Goku looked up with concern. "You did Hakkai."

"Yes. So I did." Bad recovery. Note to self: learn how to act. "And what I good job on my part, eh?" he laughed listlessly, hoping the other wouldn't notice.

"Of course! You're the sensei around here when it comes to practical stuff." continued Goku as he pulled out a tube of ointment, read it, and after confirming it was the correct one, applied it to the now clean surface of skin. Sanzo was there for anything cynically philosophical.

A sad smile suddenly tugged at the corners of Tenpou's mouth. It made Goku uneasy because it was an expression Hakkai rarely wore...or maybe wore often but never showed anybody else. It fell on his face whenever it rained. Whenever he thought of that dead lady.

"Tell me, Goku." Tenpou started. "Who taught you how to read? It wasn't Sanzo, was it?"

A shake of the head.

"Really? But I thought there were no other teachers before Sanzo. Before me."

A shrug. "I just knew." It was simple childlike acceptance. Why do you breathe? I just do. What do you see? I opened my eyes. Why do you speak? When I open my mouth, sound comes out.