string of red pearls
by Bethany Ten
dirty things

“It's like you said,” Gojyo says.

Sanzo skips a rock on the water’s surface. Three. Five. It sinks.

“It's like you said,” Gojyo says, a stone smooth in his palm. “People can’t change. Not completely.”

Sanzo takes the rock from the open landscape of Gojyo's palm.

“Gonou lives,” Gojyo says, wringing his empty hands.

“So do you,” Sanzo reminds him. He reaches for his outstretched hand.

“I don’t have a rock,” Gojyo says, and trembles.

“You have me,” Sanzo says, firmly.

Sanzo interlaces their fingers.

“Oh,” Gojyo whispers, his voice shaky like his shoulders and hands. “Okay.”

Skip. Skip.

Sink.