Disclaimer: I do not own any version of Saiyuki, especially not Minekura Kazuya's fantastic version of it.

The Middle Sense

Surrounded by gleaming silver cans, the box of Chinese take-out stood hidden near the back of the fridge's middle shelf. Above Shien's packs of "firm" tofu, and below Homura's protein shakes. The middle shelf was Zenon's shelf, thus the army of beer, but that box of take-out was not his. At least, he didn't remember ordering out the night before…

"Shien!" He yelled out without looking up to see if Shien was near. He knew he'd be heard. No matter where Shien was in the castle, he could always hear him. It was weird.

A minute passed with no response. Zenon pushed the beer cans aside and picked up the box of take-out. By its weight, it was full. With eyebrows raised, he brought it up to his nose and sniffed. Meat- pork most likely, with vegetables. As he opened the folds at the top of the box, he heard his stomach grumble.

What he didn't hear was Shien walking up behind him.

"Yes?"

His eyes opened wide; the box slipped out from his fingers.

He started to drop to the ground, his arms outstretched to catch it, but already the box rested in Shien's hand. His eyes closed, he held it out to Zenon.

Zenon grunted "it was greasy."

"Of course." Shien smiled. He moved to stand by the counter, his arms across his chest. "Did you need something? Or were you expecting to drop that?" His eyes still closed, he pointed towards the box. He then raised his hand to stop the retort that Zenon was about to say. "Because it was greasy."

Zenon scowled and swallowed his insult. It was weird, how Shien was always one step ahead, one step ahead with his eyes closed. He held up the box and shook it. "I was just wondering who ordered this. It was on my shelf."

Shien didn't say anything for a moment. "Pork. With broccoli and…" He turned his head up towards the ceiling. "And mushrooms. In a garlic sauce."

"So, it's yours?"

"No. I believe it is Homura's. He was out late last night so he must have brought that back."

"Why was it on my shelf?"

Shien shrugged. "It is his though, so best not to touch it."

Zenon glared down at the box. "You know, whatever is on our own shelf is fair game."

"Is that the rule now?"

"Yeah, it's the rule now." He banged the box on the counter. A mushroom went flying out of the opened top.

"So, will you be explaining that to Him when He gets back?" Shien reached over and picked up the mushroom. He held it out to Zenon. "Are you going to say, "My shelf, my food'?"

Zenon looked from the mushroom in Shien's hand to the box in his own. He pictured Homura coming in that night, cape billowing behind him by some mysterious wind that seemed to follow him everywhere. He could hear the sounds of his boots as he walked into the kitchen. The door of the fridge would open, and a hand would reach to the back, the back of the middle shelf, behind the standing line of beer cans, expecting a white, greasy box of pork and vegetables to be there, to be not eaten, not by his men, not by his faithful, beer drinking, firm tofu eating men.

He closed the folds of the box, opened the fridge, and placed it on the top shelf, next to the protein shakes. After another moment, he picked it up and placed it on the middle shelf, near the back, and then pushed his beer in front of it. Everything was back where he found it, all but one can which he took out and opened. "This is mine."

"Of course." Shien popped the mushroom in his mouth and chewed. "Mmmm…." He walked up to the fridge and reached down to his bottom shelf. He pulled out one pack of tofu, some broccoli, carrots, and peppers. "Would you like some?" His back was turned to Zenon as he stood by the stove, oiling the pan, opening up spices.

His stomach grumbled, so he filled it up with a long drink of beer. "No. I hate that shit."

Another drink and he had finished it. He opened the fridge and placed the empty can right in the middle of the top shelf.

"Feel better?" His eyes closed, Shien chopped the carrots into small, bite-size pieces.

"No, I feel fucking hungry," was what he was about to say, but already Shien's hand was out towards him, holding between his fingers one slice of carrot.

It was weird. How he always was one step, one word ahead.

Zenon left the kitchen. By the time he reached the end of the hall, he couldn't hear Shien chopping vegetables. He walked upstairs and closed the door, and then popped the carrot into his mouth. In the quiet, he heard each crunch.

Downstairs, Shien was smiling; smiling as he took out two plates.

It was weird. How he knew.