Sanzo stared at the plane, what it meant not even registering for several silent seconds. And then it did. All signs of irritation disappeared from his face, his shoulders slumped, and he felt... Pressure. There was no name to put to that feeling, it was nothing, like white noise but it was still there, a pressure in his chest that pushed against his ribs like a physical force.

No. No it wasn't real- dream? No. No.

He stared at the plane, blank.