• 1-Never No Answer
• 2-and it chills to the bone
• 3-If anyone gets close to me
• 4-I'm damaged as I'm sure you know
• 5-I'm scared and I'm alone
• 6-Start talkin' trash and I'll come with my Smith and Wesson
• 7-There's beauty in the breakdown
• 8-Thank you
• 9-Theres a tear in my beer
• 10-Maybe its childish and maybe its wrong
• 11-I've got a big fat fucking bone to pick...
• 12-...with you, my darling
• 13-So we trade liquor for blood
• 14-Every night I look to the sky

Disclaimer: Saiyuki and the characters used in
the following belong to Kazuya Minekura.

You could sue me right now because Safeway is having a sale on
12 >Cup of

Noodles’ for $3! I’m saving 50 cents if you want it.

Sanzo took
another deep drag from the half-finished cigarette between his lips, staring off
into the dark and grey landscape without really looking at the same old damn
mountains and rice paddies. The weather was shitty, the people in the village
wouldn’t leave him alone long enough to take a piss, and he couldn’t kill Gojyo
or those all-fucking-high-and-mighty Three Aspects would raise all hell. If he
could have gotten away with it, he’d go back in there and shoot Gojyo right in
the bastard’s over-inflated head without a second thought if it wouldn’t be
such a pain in the ass to deal with afterward. It all boiled down the
completion of this useless, fucked up mission that held no reward other than finally being done. The faster it got
finished, the sooner he could actually murder the half-breed without a care and
leave Hakkai and Goku behind in the dust. He wanted to go back to the temple
where there was quietness, solitude, and everyone knew their place: below him.
Why couldn’t the three other members of his party get that through their fucking
thick heads instead of thinking they were actually friends? No one else seemed
to have a problem with dropping to their knees the moment he stepped in a room,
especially backwater shit-holes like this with superstitious dumbasses who had
likely never seen a real priest before, much less a Sanzo. Why couldn’t that
title strike a little fucking bit of fear into that disgusting half-breed that
was laughing his ass off back in that dingy inn? Sanzo had stepped out of the front door of the hotel only to
find a busy street full of people- exactly what he was trying to avoid right
now. Most of the villagers didn’t even know what was going on in the world;
much less that Sanzo was a completely fucking different High Priest, not the one that had visited their miserable little
village decades ago in some bullshit legend. Half of these country bumpkins
believed that a High Priest was immortal, magical, and able to cure diseases
with a touch and there was nothing he could say to change their minds. He
didn’t have any power beyond delivering ‘divine punishment:’ kill anything that
got in the way of his holy mission.
He wasn’t some saint ready to martyr himself or some other dumb ass story like
the Sanzo’s before him. He was sickened by everyone’s worshiping and pathetic begging
for a blessing that wouldn’t do shit. Mumbling some old mantra wouldn’t do anything
different than if he spit in their faces. He wasn’t there to wipe everyone’s
asses because he was a monk.

So he ended up
hiding out behind the hotel, mainly because it was completely deserted and within
walking distance. There weren’t even workers coming in and out of the back
door, which only supported Sanzo’s suspicion that the cockroaches weren’t the
worst in this little shit-hole Hakkai had chosen to stay at. The back of the
hotel had proved to be a better place than any other a long empty plain of
short dead grass broken up by clothing lines, miraculously white sheets
flapping in the light breeze as if they were actually clean. Sanzo was
half-surprised this filthy establishment, if that’s what one could call it,
even did laundry. There were towels and clothes as well, even though they were
all threadbare and well-used. Probably along with Goku, Hakkai, and that thing’s clothes, but not his since
Hakkai had vaguely beat around the bush about his robes being ruined. These
backwater pits had nothing to offer in the way of fresh and clean linens, but
Sanzo could appreciate the change of clothes while his robes were repaired… Or
was it they had been completely destroyed and he had to find another one? Sanzo
couldn’t remember what Hakkai had said anymore and thinking about it only made
his head hurt like a bitch. At least the sutra and the gun were still in fine
working order. Heads would have been rolling if the Infernal Land Sutra had
gotten even a drop of blood on it.
Stains were a bitch to get off, but they could fuck up the ancient writing on
the scroll and the spell held inside. Sanzo had to protect it from defilement,
because it had once been worn by Komyou.

Komyou.

He didn’t want
to be here in this dead-end mission, harassed by a half-youkai, a monkey demon,
and a fucking psychopath that were all in charge of watching his back. Sanzo
knew that all he could believe in was himself, just like what had happened now
with… whatever had happened. It was damn hard to be vindictive about something
he couldn’t remember clearly. What he did recall was the relative order of the
old temple before he had been so stupid as to actually go up and release Goku
from that stinkinge, re, right when his last good night’s sleep happened. Sanzo
could only fantasize about a long, dreamless sleep that would actually last
through the dark night, but he knew better than to wish for the impossible. The
latest complaint was the smell of opium reeking through the floor in his room,
making him toss around on the bed in sweaty discomfort. Sanzo was ready to use
the High Priest title to get the damn drug addicts to stop making such a rank
and clinging scent. This town and it’s citizen’s didn’t have the slightest clue
about dignified living, but at least the rest of the villagers knew well enough
to respect other people’s property, though a little fucking personal privacy seemed to mean nothing
to them. Even if he was trying to get away from the usual overzealous mob that hounded
him in every place, Sanzo wasn’t about be forced to walk more than one damn
step necessary just to avoid the generablicblic and that asshole along with the two other idiots that had chosen to tag
along.

He wanted his
peace and quiet and had even learned to accept the occasional youkai mass-murdering,
and he shouldn’t have to hike a whole fuckiile ile just to get a bad version of
privacy! Gojyo should be high-tailing it off to whoever-gives-a-fuck and die
somewhere far away from him if being
High Priest Sanzo meant anything out in the real world, free from bowing monks
and religious ceremony. He was really going to kill that bastard youkai today
if Gojyo even swallowed wrong. He
wouldn’t stand for being cursed out and publicly mocked like some commoner,
especially by a half-breed of a race he killed every single day. Where did
Gojyo get off bitching at him about
scaring the locals and ruining meals when the prick dry-humped anything female
in sight?! And he acted like he had the right to say it all with that nasty
smirk that meant Gojyo knew what Sanzo’s didn’t. When he remembered what had
happened, Sanzo would shove that knowledge right down that fucker’s poisonous
little throat. All he really wanted was:

One.

Single.

Fucking.

Moment.

Alone.

He was quite
ready to kill the next person foolish enough to approach him, purely disgusted
by man, youkai, half-breed, and whatever the fuck was left in the world’s
cumulative stupidity. The funny thing was that it wasn’t even a person who had
sparked this rage, but the spawn of a youkai. It was all Gojyo’s fucking fault.
Sanzo grimaced and exhaled a long, thick cloud of smoke into the clear air,
more than simply irritated or the usual annoyance he felt for the three other
idiots following him. He couldn’t explain how Gojyo could manage to get under
his skin so easily this time when he usually couldn’t muster the energy to give
a fuck. That half-youkai bastard wasn’t even worth the time it was taking Sanzo
to think about the sudden flare of rage he couldn’t let go of yet. He couldn’t
even explain why it had mattered that time, why the insults had hurt this time,
but Sanzo was certain that it had something to do with what he couldn’t
remember. The blank hole in his memory was starting to take all of his
attention, and the worry about what the fuck had happened was beginning to
cloud his judgment…

Sanzo went to
rub at his temple but winced away when his own hand touched his face.
Everything had become one big fucking sore, from the motley of blue and green
bruises to the healing red lines decorating his body. His eyes were swollen
from exhaustion and pain, but it was another complaint on a list that was
already way too fucking long. He couldn’t even take one single damn step
without hurting. Sitting down and standing up were also hard and painful, so he
leaned against the side of the hotel on his good
shoulder, rather pissed at the thought of some youkai get close enough to
rake claws down his other arm and back. Nobody looking on would even guess that
he couldn’t even move his hands to pull the cigarette out of his mouth, his
left hand practically useless and his right so bruised and swollen it hurt just
to light the thing. Irritation and a bone-deep tiredness had taken its toll,
but damn if he went back anytime soon.

One last hit
and the cigarette had burned down to the filter. Sanzo spat it out onto the
light yellow dead grass covering the ground. For a moment he almost regretted
it as the butt started to hiss and sputter while the dry grass started to
smoke, then smiled with his teeth stuck in a bitter grimace. He damn well hoped this whole fucking town burned up
with the lot of idiots he traveled with inside that smelly hotel. Genjo Sanzo
didn’t need a whole local community gossiping about him because of what some
half-youkai asshole had spat out in public this morning. He didn’t need them
watching him all the damn time, knowing that somewhere some of them had seen
him when they had first dragged his unconscious ass in from where in the
fucking world he didn’t know!

It was all one
big load of bullshit after another. Sanzo reached into the back pocket of the
jeans he had found left out on the dresser this morning with only a small
amount of wincing at the pain. The new pack of cigarettes had been much less
than a pleasant surprise, because it meant that someone had been in his room
while he had been sleeping away just like a vulnerable lamb for the slaughter. Sanzo
hated the weakness, which seemed all the more apparent these past few days.
Passing in and out of consciousness was not the way to gain a calm state of
mind. That was why he’d been so
easily pissed off over Gojyo’s smart ass comments. In the end, Goku had
definitely been the one who had driven him out of the hotel because he couldn’t
stand to watch the ape eat anything else, but Sanzo would rather heap all the
blame at the youkai bastard’s feet instead. He had no reason to stay angry at
Goku, who had actually managed to stay in his good graces despite irritating
him to no ends.

Sanzo pulled a crushed,
half-empty pack of cigarettes out from his pants and tapped out another thin
stick slowly. They weren’t his usual kind because Goku had gone out and bought
the first package he’d seen without a thought for the brand, only wanting to
make sure Sanzo would have fresh cigarettes. Sanzo had ripped into the dumbass
the moment he’d been awake long enough to demand a cigarette. Now he was stuck
with some shitty, watered down version of what tobacco really should be like that
left a bad taste in his mouth and a smoke haze pressing on his temples. Even
still, Sanzo couldn’t give a fuck because the nausea was enough to distract him
from the blank holes in his memory and the aches of his body. He put the
cigarette in his mouth and shoved the pack back into his pocket and started to
fish out the pack of matches he’d found in the room.

An unfamiliar
lighter held up by a large, tanned hand sprang to life in front of the end of
his cigarette. Sanzo stared at it in mild surprise before leaning forward and
taking the light. Gojyo smiled like it actually meant shit, as if that small
meaningless gesture had worked as an apology. Sanzo started on yet another
cigarette with silvery-blue smoke drifting out lazily on the wind, wondering
just what he had done so wrong to end up with a complete fucking moron. Sanzo
was more interested in how the bastard had known that he had been out here.
He’d figure it would take them at least half an hour to even realize that he
wasn’t coming back. Hakkai must have gotten worried but had known better than
to chase after him from the last time. A bullet always got the point across
with everyone else except the sack of shit that had crawled up beside him. Most
likely Hakkai had sent Gojyo out to apologize by the feeling of tension in the
man next to him, since Goku was by far too loud to deal with. Sanzo just wanted
this to be done with this frustrating silence, in no mood to invite further
conversation. He hated all of them, but Gojyo managed to be one that was especially
outstanding above any other.

“What?” Sanzo
snapped out as the quietness started to last further than he had expected it to
as Gojyo lit up a cigarette of his own. He didn’t want Gojyo to think that by
offering a light, they had descended into something that might be considered companionable
silence between them done. Sanzo sure as well wasn’t going to give out any
gratitude when the youkai bastard owed him on more than one occasion. Sanzo didn’t
like the smirk on the half-breed’s face as the asshole stared down at him just
because Gojyo was a little bit taller. He fucking hated it. Genjo Sanzo was not
one to be looked down upon. He’d just as soon make another scar on that smug
and distasteful face. He didn’t appreciate the feeling of being pitied that just
oozed from Gojyo and Hakkai both as
though they’d become bleeding hearts in a manner of days. He’d never been more
mother-henned and watched over in the past few days then he had been since he’d
been young, which only irritated him more. He felt like the family pet that had
managed to survive being mauled. Just whatever
had happened to him in lost time might be better off forgotten if it weren’t
for the fact that he absolutely loathed their
nervous sympathy and wanted to get a good and satisfactory revenge. He had to
know just why the lot of idiots he traveled with suddenly thought he was
breakable, as if they just now realized he could die. However, Sanzo had put
away weak emotions like fear and caring for another worthless human being and
had found strength in a strict code of vengeance. It was karma in a way, if
people were looking for a religious aspect to his life.

“You feel
better now after freezing out here?” Gojyo asked as if Sanzo was a mere child
who had run away pouting. Sanzo would have strangled the smart-ass mother
fucker right then and there with his bare hands if he believed for a minute he
could get the better of Gojyo right now. A year’s worth of seniority didn’t
give Sanzo any advantage when it came to close fighting with Gojyo; as he found
out too frequently for taste. The redheaded bastard just never could tell when
to leave a person the fuck alone, as he was demonstrating once again right now.
He hadn’t even noticed the cold or really taken in the heavy and dark clouds
above their heads. Now wasn’t the best time to run outside into a storm to get
a little peace since Gojyo or even worse: Goku; were going to hound him. Sanzo
could smell the rain in the air and the familiar clench of his stomach. Rain
always made him nervous and nostalgic when he should be over it. Just another
failure to add to the list. He didn’t like it, not one damn bit.

“Rot in hell,”
Sanzo barked back without takhis his eyes off of the sheets fluttering in the
wind that was starting to pick up. He wanted nothing more than his own thoughts
as he finished off what would likely be his last cigarette before the weather
drove him back inside, not some sex-obsessed half-youkai’s condescending
remarks when he had no place to even speak
without being spoken to. He didn’t really want to let Gojyo think himselmpormportant enough to recognize. Smoke filtered up from the other’s own half-done
cigarette, reminding Sanzo that the bastard would die soon enough from lung
cancer. He tisked more at himself and his own weak desires, forgetting himself
long enough to have Gojyo lean in closer and force Sanzo to meet his eyes.

“Well, shit,
and here I was being concerned about your sour skinny ass,” Gojyo sneered with
contempt as though he had the goddamn justification
to feel like he was in the right. Sanzo hadn’t found himself missing the
Smith and Wesson any more than he did now, wanting a bullet between Gojyo’s
eyes for that little comment worse than anything else. Hell, he even wanted to
try the sutra on the smug bastard and see what would happen but he had been the
idiot for once to leave it in the room.

“Don’t worry
yourself so damn much,” Sanzo suggested as he snapped his gaze away and settled
on the scenery without even noticing it. He didn’t give a single damn about Gojyo’s
concern that had only been at Hakkai’s request. The half-breed sighed at that
as he ran out of smart comments and was put back in his proper place for the
moment. Sanzo imagined Gojyo curling up and dying like the insect he was
instead of staying there and sharing a smoke like they were actually tolerating
each other. Sanzo took an infuriated breath from the cigarette and the smoke
burned his throat. He relished the
tobacco smoldering in the back of his nose, frustrated and out of options
himself.

Sanzo decided
he could wait for Gojyo to get bored and leave. The bastard would wander in
good enough time if he didn’t give the poor shit a response, knowing that Gojyo
easily grew tired of the silent treatment, just like Goku. Too bad the same
technique didn’t work on Hakkai; in fact it would have had the brunette up his
ass about his depression and lack of appetite and a whole other lot of bullshit
that only made the headache worse. Sympathy was not something Genjo Sanzo
accepted graciously. He’d rather shove it right back in the face of whoever was
unwise and deranged enough to offer it, but Hakkai and the rest only
rationalized it away as one of his ‘moods.’ Sanzo swore he was going to shoot
every single one of them in the head when they finished this mission from hell
and didn’t need them. Once he’d gotten full use of the three losers he’d been
ordered to travel with, he’d make sure to repay all the irritation and
thoughtless tongues they hadn’t watched closely enough.

He risked a
small look underneath the slight haze of his eyelashes te Goe Gojyo leaning up
against the wall with his arms crossed behind his head easily. He didn’t even
seem to care about Sanzo’s obvious desire to be alone, the lingering threat of
death, or the rain. He was just standing there
like a complete fucking idiot that was waiting for someone to show up, or for
Sanzo to talk. How hard was it to get the message across? Wasn’t it obvious to
even someone as slow as Gojyo that he should just be left alone right now?
There would be no deep divulging of personal secrets today, not to anyone as
selfish as one with youkai blood in him as well.

“Anything else?
Are you fucking done yet?” Sanzo snapped vehemently when Gojyo stayed there
longer than his patience. All he had wanted was some time alone so he could try
to sort out the black holes in his memory and figure out what exactly he didn’t
remember. Gojyo wasn’t even allowing him that privacy, his mere presence
picking away at the edge’s of Sanzo’s concentration. He hadn’t hated someone
this much before and not been able to kill them without another thought. He was
a High Priest after all, and screw the scriptures that said monks didn’t kill.
It was because of those ancient rules that the only person he would ever call his
Master had been slaughtered like an
animal before his eyes...

“Sanzo, do you
really remember what happened in that place?” Gojyo asked with a voice that was
much softer than Sanzo would have ever thought the half-breed would take with
him. ‘That place’ and ‘back there’ were what Gojyo and the rest of them said
when they were talking about whatever place they had found him in. Sanzo was
frustrated beyond death at their secretive little code that kept him from
trying to scrape some details out from the conversation. He had been trying to
hide that lack of memory, but it was getting harder each day as they seemed to
know so much more than him. Genjo Sanzo was not supposed to feel like an idiot
left in the dark. His pride wouldn’t allow it, nor would he ask them for the
details even if he had to go to the grave without knowing.

“How many times
are you going to ask me that, you youkai bastard?” Sanzo returned, his delicate
temper broken completely now. He wondered if he might be able to choke Gojyo to
death successfully in this condition. It might as well be worth a try when the
half-breed stood up and placed himself in front of Sanzo like a human wall.
Sanzo glared up at the bastard, unable to stop the irrational anger that Gojyo
was slightly taller than him; pissed that he had to tilt his head up a bit to
meet a pair of red eyes he’d much rather avoid.

“Until you
actually answer me,” Gojyo explained with a face that wasn’t betraying any
emotion. He was actually serious about something for once, trying to gaze deep
into Sanzo’s eyes and find a sort of connection there. Sanzo would sooner vomihan han stare back at that honest concern in Gojyo’s own eyes, but he wasn’t about
to look away from a glaring match. His lips worked on the cigarette, wishing
that Hakkai would announce his gun as repaired already.

Sanzo blew a
thick cloud of smoke back into Gojyo’s face as his answer, quite done with this
childish argument. He didn’t want to hear this sort of talk from Gojyo, who was
the last person he’d tell his
troubles to. Sanzo would go to Goku first, and that was just as ridiculous as
him actually wanting to talk to someone. Didn’t Gojyo realize that Sanzo was
alone, had always been alone, and would stay
alone for the rest of his life? He dealt with his problems himself. Just because they were
traveling together didn’t mean he felt the slightest shred of affection for any
of them, certainly not for some half-bastard of the youkai they killed everyday
either.

Even if Gojyo
smoked his own fair share of cigarettes everyday, he wasn’t prepared for smoke
hitting his eyes. There was a blink before the cursing and rubbing of his eyes
started, which Sanzo took full advantage of. He easily sidestepped around the
temporarily blinded buffoon and started walking off toward the laundry lines
without a real destination in mind. He just wanted to get away from people who
were a pain in the ass: which meant anyone breathing.

“You selfish
assholGojyGojyo’s yell followed Sanzo’s back, but he didn’t pay it one bit of
attention. Like he cared if Gojyo was pissed or not. He’d prefer it if the
bastard got so angry that he would just leave him alone. He didn’t want to be
bothered right now, not with this headache coming on. He could feel one building
up in both temples right now, and it was all Gojyo’s fault. Damn that incessant
asshole for hounding him like this! Sanzo turned down between the several lines
and walked between the drying sheets, hoping that he might lose Gojyo. Perhaps
the bastard would be as stupid as he looked for once and think that Sanzo had walked
past the laundry lines to whatever wilderness was beyond.

He heard Gojyo
stomping along on the other side of the wide white sheets, cleaver enough to
figure out that he’d gone this way but still not close enough. Sanzo tossed his
cigarette down the small walkway between the waving laundry, not wanting to
give away his location by the smell of burning tobacco. He didn’t consider this
running away, but necessary hiding. If Sanzo actually faced Gojyo right now,
he’d only be treated with questions that he had no answer for. It was like salt
on a raw wound when Gojyo knew the answer and Sanzo didn’t have a fucking clue.
Gojyo already knew what had happened, had already saved his sorry ass from it
as well. Sanzo couldn’t even remember if it had only been one or a whole group
of youkai.

When he could
figure out what had happened, on his own without the help of that idiot trying
to find him now, Sanzo would be a hell of a lot happier. At least than he could
extract some revenge and be on his way again without losing too much time. He
didn’t want to be here for a long time, he wanted to stop that damn
resurrection and get back home to the temple, safely hidden away from the worst
of humanity. The climb up the stairs along the side of the mountain alone was
enough to deter most robbers.

Sanzo turned on
his heel, ready to put some distance between himself and that pathetic excuse
of intelligent life sniffing around after him. He quickly walked between the gaps
of different sheets from white to a dark brown blanket. Sanzo blinked at it before
stars exploded in his head, red hot nails pounding into his skull. He didn’t
cry out exactly, but Sanzo felt an involuntary groan of pain pass his lips
before he fell to his knees on the ground. The blanket was familiar from
somewhere, but the mere thought of looking over at it make Sanzo’s brain turn
into boiling jelly. It hurt beyond
any physical pain, something inside that he couldn’t do anything about.

Gojyo might
have pushed aside the blankets or it might have been the wind. Sanzo’s vision
had fragmented into grey spots and he went onto all fours, robbed of his
equilibrium. Sanzo tried to hang onto consciousness, tried to do anything but
pant their like a sick dog before the pain was unbearable. He pitched forward
into the soft, wet ground and ceased to know anything.

* * *

Sanzo felt sick
on the shoulder of the youkai, ready to be sick from the swaying steps. He wasn’t
sure if he was awake or dreaming, only feebly clinging to that bit of warmth
that the youkai’s shoulders offered. His back and legs were long since frozen
through from taking the brunt of the cold wind and snow that had started.

The youkai
tossed Sanzo down to the ground, jarring every frozen bone in his body. He hadn’t
even realized they were indoors until he felt the smooth worn wood floor
underneath his cheek. It was already a hundred degrees warmer with a roof to
stop the snow and walls to block the wind. Sanzo couldn’t do anything more than
shiver, too cold to think, too cold to move, too damn cold to do
anything else than curl up in a miserable ball. He had lost his coat somewhere
along the way, but couldn’t remember when. It must have been when this youkai
was tromping through the entire forest like a machine while Sanzo froze to
death on its shoulders. His robes were still wet, though some ice had started
to form between the stitches. It didn’t even melt, his skin just as chilled as
the cold river water. Sanzo coughed weakly, gagging on the icy floor that was
by far warmer than his own frozen hide. He hated it, pissed off to no ends that
his gun was lost and the sutra was barely on his shoulders- unable to use or
reach for with his black and blue fingers.

The demon shook
its own heavy fur coat off again as Sanzo shivered painfully, the feeling in
his hands and feet gone a long time ago. He face felt dry and blistered from
the cold outside, his lips sticking together. Sanzo had tried to lick them once
during the awful hike to wherever they were now and almost froze his tongue
off. It was all he could do to lie there and shake like the fragile, weak human
he was and try to look around.

Sanzo was in a
house, the floor dusty from lack of a good sweeping in a long time. It must
have been abandoned judging from the lack of any personal items but expensive
furniture and carpets were still in place, likely too heavy to move during the obviously
rushed escape the real owners of the
house had had. There was a fire going in the stone hearth, too far away for
Sanzo to feel its heat with a pile of wood filling the entire wall next to it.
The youkai that had gathered here obviously planned to stay inside for a long
time, but it was a rare day when youkai actually realized they should bring out
firewood. The walls were white plaster with a high ceiling, but Sanzo doubted
if the youkai that had dumped him could even appreciate the expense it would
take to make a house like this, especially in the middle of this weird
forest.

Sanzo wondered
why the villagers hadn’t said something when they had left this morning. Surely
they would have a superstition, law, or some sort of stupid backwater bullshit
about these woods. That eerily spiritual feeling had been so powerful that it must
have started to show on any travelers going through. Sprits could pass on
the animosity, when they were strong enough to take control of a place like
this forest. Those things that had followed them were gone now,
thankfully unable to pass through a doorway unless invited. Sanzo would rather
bite his tongue off before he’d see those rank, corrupted spirits again. They
were a filthy parody of the afterlife that left Sanzo feeling ill.

The beastly youkai that had carried Sanzo like a sack of rice
all the way to this place stepped forward, his wet, bare feet covered in snow
as they stomped past Sanzo’s face. The youkai moved forward in the house
confidently, as if he had been here before. Sanzo only shivered and pulled his
arms tighter around himself as he tried to look up discretely through his
bangs. There was no reason to let the thing know he was more aware than a rock,
even if he was helplessly trembling on the floor. At least his teeth didn’t
chatter. It was too cold for that.

To Sanzo’s
vague, drowsy surprise another youkai approached. In fact, there were several
of them in the room right now. It was an assorted bunch with another hairy,
large and obviously stupid male youkai with short orange hair covering its
whole body, a smaller and well-dressed youkai in a pair of clean pants and coat
that looked like it had even had a bath recently. Another youkai had
shoulder-length purple hair and silver earrings dangling in its long right ear
and a chain for a belt and nasty looking heavy black boots.

“What ya bring
back, stupid?” the cleanest youkai asked, its short blue hair brushing over the
tips of the long ears. The youkai could only be speaking to the idiot brute
thad had hauled Sanzo over half the mountain range. The hairier youkai didn’t
even blink at the insult, accepting it like a given name. Sanzo wished hd
hd
his gun, but it was back on that damned riverbank. Hakkai had better find the
Smith and Wesson and hold it for him until he could get away from these
stinking youkai.

“Shit, he ain’t
even fat enough to eat,” the purple-haired youkai spat and Sanzo got a
steel-toed boot in the side for being too thin. He hadn’t been expecting it,
hadn’t been able to defend himself from being kicked in the ribs with all the
strength that demon had. He rolled with the blow and ended up hitting his head
on the side of the wall before slumping down to the floor again. Stars danced
in his vision and breathing was a tricky thing to do right now when Sanzo
couldn’t feel his lips. He was so numb that his ribs felt they were on fire,
the blood starting to move now that he was going to either break a bone or have
a spectacular bruise.

“I thought
Master might like it. The human’s pretty,” the youkai spoke about Sanzo as if
he was only an object, trying to convince the rest that he was worth the effort.
He felt like he was on a damn auction block for these slavering idiots. He wasn’t
some vapid doll that they could disregard like this. Sanzo was insulted to be
spoken about so, but was too cold to try and object. He had to be content with
struggling on the floor to warm up for now, too weak to concentrate on anything
else.

“Well, it can
take a hit,” the purple-haired youkai drawled as if it was only slightly
surprising but not very impressive. Sanzo flipped the fuck off with the hand
that wasn’t wrapped around his side, blood starting to run again from the cuts
on his palm. The youkai’s face jerked and changed into one of fury as Sanzo
grinned maliciously at its stupidity, wondering if they even knew just who they
had captured. All it would take was an introduction to have half of these
youkai pissing themselves in terror.

Sanzo didn’t
get the chance to say anything though, because a boot got him square under the
jaw. His teeth clacked together and he had a moment to be thankful that he
didn’t have his tongue between them before his head hit the wall a second time
with a lot more force than the first. It was enough to stun him, more than that
dunk in freezing cold water. The chill came back in full force along with
electric pain shooting from the back of his skull and all the way down his
spine. Sanzo coughed and wheezed, but refused to give into the darkness
beckoning at the corners of his eyes.

“BackY the fuckY off,” Sanzo growled through the
shivering cold that had taken over his whole body. He glared up at the lean
youkai in black clothing with a heavy coat that was trying to be intimidating.
The face was too smooth and the youkai didn’t have the look of someone who had
been in many actual combats, but there was a cruel look in its eyes, truly a
demon. He didn’t like this purple-haired youkai in the least bit. He’d be sure
to kill this one slowly when he got his gun back. The sutra would be too good
for it.

“I go get him
now,” the familiar, stupid,
hairy youkai growled with an awed tone for whoever this ‘he’ was and leaving
Sanzo alone with a new group of tormentors. The youkai rudely pushed the orange
haired youkai and the neat looking one to the side and lumbered past to the
back of the house. The pair grunted and made rude faces at the larger youkai’s
back, like squabbling between a family. The purple-haired one didn’t even watch
him go, choosing to walk toward Sanzo and study him like prize cattle.

Sanzo ran his
knuckles underneath his chin, wiping off the filth left from the youkai’s boot.
He would pay the bastard back several times over for this indignity. There was
no reason to waste his anger now when he couldn’t even stand, but that didn’t
mean he could sit back and take this shit like some fucking bald, cowardly monk.
Sanzo was making notes for later, a chance which would be coming very soon. Youkai did not kick Genjo Sanzo around.
He would kill all of their sorry asses later, at the next possible
opening, but as for right now, he would shiver in the corner with frozen blue
hands fumbling to make a decent fist. He couldn’t even feel anything past his
elbows or knees and the wet clothes were soaking up all his body heat, but he
wasn’t about to take them off in this group.

“It looks
half-drowned. Why’d he bring it back?” The neat, clean youkai asked his
companions as haredared down at Sanzo in disgust, as if he was somewhat better
because he still hadn’t gone completely insane from the evil wave coming from
the West. Sanzo didn’t even glance over at the second insolent comment, concentrating
on burning the purple-haired youkai in front of him with his eyes. He hated to
be stared at and talked over. He wasn’t an ‘it.’ These things were,
demons that had been corrupted by the madness beyond worth being saved. The
youkai blinked once, then twice under Sanzo’s eyes before looking away all
together, unable to stander der his gaze for long. No one alive had been able
to yet.

“Who the… fuck asked…
for your… opinion, you filthy youkai?” Sanzo growled between chattering
teeth, pinning a glare on the clean one now that he felt the black clothed
idiot in front of him was properly cowed. He was starting to warm up enough now
to try and wrap his arms around his sides and hold the soggy robes close in
hope of pulling some heat out of them. He was going to freeze to death on the
floor of this dirty house full of youkai, and that wasn’t an acceptable way to
go into oblivion. He was going to take out at least a few of them before he died.

“Shut up,
human,” it spat before kicking Sanzo under the chin. His teeth clacked together
and his vision swam for a moment before Sanzo hit the floor hard. His jaw
exploded with pain, his cold and sensitive face not ready for a heavy blow like
that. He coughed and blood was in his mouth from rattled teeth and pinched
skin. The youkai only smirked at the choking pain underneath his jaw as Sanzo
lay there, dazed for a moment.

“Don’t open
your filthy mouth, human,” the purpled haired youkai hissed, its curses
meaning nothing to Sanzo. The youkai thought it was being scary or something,
like Sanzo was another traveler that wasn’t able to deal with being bullied by
a bunch of idiots. He could send them all to hell in a few words with the sutra
around his shoulders if he so wished. Just because the scroll was soaking wet
didn’t mean it was less effective. However, Sanzo wasn’t so sure if he was in
the state of mind to use the scroll without being ripped wide open by the
spiritual power it held. If he tried to use the sutra now, he’d probably be
useless afterwards with the draining effect the scroll had sometimes. Not even
Goku knew what it took for Sanzo to wield the sutra, because Sanzo would shoot
himself in the head before dealing with the monkey worrying over him every time
after he used the scroll.

“I’ll kill you,”
Sanzo swore through the gagging feeling in his throat. The youkai’s face
twisted up at Sanzo’s refusal to cower like all the other victims. He wasn’t
another dog that would roll over at a few blows. This youkai meant nothing to
him, and Sanzo tried very hard not to reach for the gun he knew wasn’t there.
Apparently this pompous youkai wasn’t one who could stand threats from a frozen
monk lying on the floor, because Sanzo got two more heavy kicks to his exposed
stomach before he brought his knees up to shield off the blows. His stomach
felt like it was going to break his spine, kick in against his back. This was
starting to become damn tedious.

“Hey, you’re
gonna break him,” the bigger orange one rumbled, surprisingly insightful for
being one of the lower, stupider youkai. Sanzo wanted to shake the blooming
pain in his head away, but it felt like his neck might snap if he moved. Those
were definitely steel-toed boots. What a novelty for a youkai to have in a
secluded forest hideout like this. He wasn’t as delicate as the hairy animal
thought, but if it saved him a beating he wasn’t about to argue. Sanzo wouldn’t
let idiots like these live to boast about this to their friends. He could live
through a few taps. The youkai that delivered them would not.

“Mind your
place,” the purple haired youkai snapped back, not taking his eyes off of Sanzo
even once to look at the other youkai. The demon was too busy looking at its
new toy like a cat spotting a mouse, except Sanzo would not be another victim.
He wasn’t a punching bag or a person to be tested with, as this stupid youkai
would soon learn. Sanzo just had to be patient. An opening would come, if he
didn’t get impatient and rushed it. He would have revenge, no matter how long
it took. Sanzo was the type of person to hold a grudge, for however long
it took.

“You should mind
your own,” a deep and commanding cool
voice snapped from behind the gathered youkai. The youkai trying to intimidate
Sanzo eyes went wide with fear from and it swirled around with a large step
back to face the newcomer, terror written all over its body. Sanzo looked up through
the purple haired youkai’s booted legs to see the latest threat, trying to
focus on this while his stomach swam from the kicks. He would kill that
purple-haired, sadistic little shit later. Genjo Sanzo did not let a youkai
wearing combat boots beat him up on some abandoned farm in the middle of a
forest filled with wrongness.

The next youkai
Sanzo saw between the two combat boots was without a doubt the leader he had
sensed behind that mass attack. He could sense it just from the way the youkai
carried itself. The big hairy one was bowing away from the thin, average height
youkai in the middle. Sanzo couldn’t see any impressive arm muscles underneath
the plain, white shirt the youkai wore beyond the sleeves being a little too
long. It wore the shirt unbuttoned; an ill fit on his open chest that probably
meant it was stolen from some poor traveler. It wore a pair of tight, black
leather pants with expensive tan boots underneath the hem. The youkai was thin
and gaudy with heavy silver necklaces around its neck. There was no reason to
respect this one out of pure strength. It didn’t comfort Sanzo. This meant he
had an intelligent youkai to deal with if it didn’t depend on brawn.

“What is it?”
it asked in a slightly interested manner, as if he was looking on a dying
animal and not sure if he should care or not. The other youkai were cowering
away though, even purple-hair except for a grimace and look of slight anger at
being interrupted. Mostly there was fear in all of these youkai’s eyes. The new
youkai was the source of all fear, with thin raven’s wing black hair curving
around its face and neck. Sanzo could see nothing particularly frightening
about this one except sharp, long black-painted nails and the bizarrely clear
blue eyes that were nothing short of crazed.

“OhY A human priest?” the leader asked,
pointing a finger down at Sanzo like he was nothing more than a piece of fruit
that the youkai wanted to know the name of. The youkai that had carried Sanzo
into this pit nodded with a slight bow to the leader just in case the scared
look in his eyes wasn’t humble enough. It put Sanzo’s teeth on edge to be
ignored so, but his jaw was aching so badly he could hardly speak. He finally
managed to curl his thick, cold fingers up into two tight fists, feeling a
feeble heat as the blood started to flow again.

“High Priest Genjo
Sanzo, you piece of shit,” he snapped, not about to be labeled as some naïve
wandering monk that would be easy prey. He wasn’t someone to be disrespected and
tossed around by demons like this. The youkai froze, a few smarter ones taking
large steps back from the black haired leader in the middle like they expected
him to explode and kill anyone within range. Sanzo was not worried at all by
the sudden change in attitude. His name alone would instill enough fear in
these youkai to secure his life. They wouldn’t dare cross his path now that his
name was known.

The leader only
smirked at Sanzo’ insolence, obviously never having come across such a rude,
unimpressed human before. The youkai had an expression on that said it was even
amused with his fierce retaliation. Sanzo only glared harder. He wasn’t about
to cower in fear over some youkai. He killed them every day before and after
breakfast, lunch, and dinner. This was not anything new beyond its quick
ability to kill friends.

“Genjo Sanzo, a
High Priest lost in my forest? Don’t you travel with companions? Did you get
lost in the snow, my poor little priest?” the leader asked, not at all
impressed with his name. The youkai in the room smiled and grinned in
superiority at Sanzo, a few even laughing at his predicament. It was mocking
him! At least he wasn’t raving about eating Sanzo’s flesh to become eternally
young or some shit like that. Those types always irritated Sanzo, leaving him
with a nasty taste in his mouth at the thought of cannibalism. Demons were
still closer to humans than any animals out there, and it was fucking wrong to
eat another person. Sanzo had many standards, and this was one of them. But,
the disgust he felt for the human eating youkai wasn’t half as bad of taste as
the acid he sometimes felt when traveling with his loud, good-for-nothing ‘companions.’
Sanzo would have been better off with getting a dog to replace the lot of them
for the good they were. If Sanzo was traveling with useful people, he
wouldn’t be on the floor surrounded by smelly, disgusting youkai and being the
center of a damn floor show right now.

“You have
violet eyes,” the black haired youkai stated suddenly, taking a few steps forward
to be just a few inches away from Sanzo’s sandals. It bent forward at the
waist, peering into his face. Sanzo refused to look away, staring the inhuman
blue slitted eyes down as the youkai tried to make him feel threatened with
this examining glance. It was only slightly uncomfortable because Sanzo knew
that the youkai in front of him was actually staring at the color of his eyes
and not meeting his gaze, but Sanzo refused to look away either to try hiding
his eyes. He did not cower from youkai- they feared him. Nothing about
that would ever change.

“Who got him
under the jaw?” the leader asked, dropping his eyes first to turn around and
face the other youkai in the room. They were all silent as the purple-haired
one paled. The other youkai glanced at each other and turned back to their
leader, fear clear in their eyes. Sanzo didn’t feel like he had won that
staring match but only been put on delay while the youkai dealt with its
subordinates. The orange-haired one was quick to point at the youkai with its
jangling, pierced ear. The others looked away from the purple haired youkai as
if the sight of him was poisonous while the leader put one hand on his hip to
look levelly at the youkai with heavy boots.

“He was talking
back,” the youkai offered lamely, raising up its hands in excuse. The
black-haired youkai shook its head as if it was a teacher dealing with a
particularly slow student. Then, he moved, rushing forward so quickly
Sanzo’s eyes couldn’t follow it. All he caught was a flash of movement in the
corner of his eye before he saw the purple-haired youkai crumple around the set
of five nails slammed into its chest, right through the heart.

Sanzo was used
to youkai being insane, dangerous and filthy, but he rarely came across ones
this far gone into the madness and retained a single shred of intelligence,
much less malicious genius. It was so strong that it choked the air with a
vicious, malignant attitude. The leader pulled back swiftly, the black nails
dripping from the neat set of red dots in the front of the purple-haired youkai’s
chest. The dead youkai fell to the floor limply in the silence of the room, the
rest of the youkai too scared to protest.

“So, Genjo
Sanzo,” the youkai said, using the name like it was mocking him, “did you
get those violet eyes from your mother?” It asked in a deceptively
conversational tone, but Sanzo knew it was anything but. This was a murderer in
front of him, damn quickly and efficient. All the politeness was like the
shining scales of a snake, glistening while the deadly fangs were prepared. The
youkai that had at least saved Sanzo from the river didn’t even have a chance
to take a step back before it was already dead.

“Go to hell,”
Sanzo snapped back despite the group of full-grown male demons gasping and taking
a few steps back. He wouldn’t admit to not knowing the answer. That was his
business alone and it meant nothing to him to how much this demon was
feared. He didn’t know what parent he had inherited his face from and he didn’t
give a damn either. It was better to think he had justY existed. Sanzo didn’t want to
wonder about the bitch that had been stupid enough to get pregnant and birth
him out into this miserable world. It wasn’t any of this creature’s business
either as the youkai stared with shock at Sanzo’s face.

“You do talk
back a lot, Genjo Sanzo,” the youkai drawled back, making Sanzo wished he had
never told the youkai his name. Sanzo opened his mouth to say more, but the
youkai reached out with unnaturally long nails dripping with blood. He was cut
off as they came close to his face and the sharp pointer finger gently caressed
the side of his cheek, smearing the purple haired youkai’s blood on his skin.
Sanzo emotionlessly stared back at the youkai, refusing to move, refusing to
show a weakness in front of him. He drove the cold away, stopped shivering, and
glared at the animal for all he was worth. The youkai all were coming closer
now, leering like hyenas in the back, waiting for a moment to dart in and try
to maul him. Sanzo would be no such easy prey.

“You did a good
job,” the leader threw back over his shoulder to the youkai that had carried
him in, grinning at Sanzo as it flicked its nail away from his face without so
much as a scratch. But Sanzo felt how easily the youkai could have pierced his
skin with those sharp nails. It had been a warning without words, but a clear
message to shut up. Sanzo was just as ready to kick this youkai in the balls if
he wasn’t freezing to death right now. He did not get pushed around with
physical threats from some isolated forest youkai.

The other youkai in the room didn’t move to interrupt their
master. They all had been put in place from the murder only moments ago. They
were left as only an audience to watch this battle of wills, because the youkai
had yet to hit him. It had already killed the last living thing to touch Sanzo.
He felt a little bit safe, even if the other youkai looked ready to run away if
given the chance.

“I haven’t seen
a face like yours in years,” the youkai offered Sanzo like it should mean
something to him. Sanzo sniffed, disgusted at the youkai for speaking such
incredibly fucking droll things out loud. He didn’t care about his looks beyond
the fact it brought him unwanted attention like this all the damn time.
Just because he had a pretty face, people and youkai alike underestimated him
and thought him weaker or instantly assumed he could be brought to heel with a
few threats. It made him sick.

“Well, it’s not
every day we get to meet a High Priest. Though I doubt it, with a mouth like
that,” the youkai looked down on Sanzo as if he were the monster, something to
poke at with a stick. The youkai were all grinning and standing on the edges of
this fight in anticipation, not as scared of their leader as they were
interested in watching a human get tortured. If he wasn’t so damn cold, Sanzo
would be uncurling from the pathetic pile he made on the floor and kill every
single on of the youkai in this house in an instant. When his lips were warm
enough to chant the required difficult prayer, he would use the sutra. There
was no way he could try to take on this many youkai barehanded either,
especially with this leader. He would have to be careful about this one.

“Why don’t you
take off those wet robes, Genjo Sanzo?” the youkai asked in a dangerously
polite way. Sanzo couldn’t control his face from jumping to outright disgust,
his blood running cold at the intention behind those words. The intention and
desire behind those blue eyes cold was unmistakable, Sanzo very acquainted with
such looks from the day he turned old enough to realize what it meant. The other youkai around the room laughed and
hooted like they were in a bar; forget their brother’s death to watch a proposed
strip of a monk. It was even worse than just an intelligent, calculating youkai,
but a perverted one as well that wanted to see his bare flesh. That much was
clear by the look in those eyes. Sanzo felt like he would vomit, even more
repulsed than those few times Gojyo had fallen all over him in a drunken,
slobbering stupor.

“Why don’t youY go fuck off?” Sanzo got out, so
furious and cold that he could hardly speak around the anger. One youkai
snickered in back, and their leader only had to prick its ears for the laughter
to stop. There wasn’t even a need to turn around and glare, his eyes remaining locked
with Sanzo’s. It only made him more infuriated. How dare this piece of filth suggest
such a thing? He was a priest after
all, of the highest order. Of course he practiced celibacy; not about to mess
around with the disease-ridden girls and occasional boys Gojyo seemed to love
to mount in every town. Didn’t it have the slightest bit of respect for the
religion he represented; even it was a whole load of higher-than-thou shit?

The youkai’s
clear blue eyes went wide in shock, the same amused face coming back on his
face at Sanzo’s latest comment. Then Sanzo had a slick, sticky hand wrapped
around his throat for a moment with crushing strength as the youkai picked him
up by the throat like he was nothing more than a small kitten. Sanzo had a hand
up far too late to stop the sudden attack before he was tossed and hit the hardwood
floor on the left side of his face hard enough to make his ear and teeth ache.
His neck felt like it had been squeezed down to half the usual side as he
gasped weakly for breath that came more painfully now around an almost
completely crushed windpipe. The youkai had checked in its strength enough to
not kill Sanzo, barely. A
strange contrast of cold numbness and intense, stabbing pain covered one side
of his head hard enough to stab into his temple and nose, as if the pain was
spreading into his skull and pushing out his brain.

The youkai
leader slammed its foot into the small of Sanzo’s back, pinning him down like a
butterfly on a board. Sanzo tried to struggle out from under the crushing
weight but found the heel of the youkai’s boot digging into his spine so hard
that he almost yelled out before biting it down. He twisted, rolled, squirmed
until he managed to get his hands underneath himself and push off the floor,
throwing back the youkai with unexpected resistance.

He panted on
all fours, palms and knees locked on the ground. For a moment there was nothing,
then the strange sensation of his skin being sliced open in four lines across
his back before the blossoming pain. Sanzo screamed at it, the wounds of the youkai’s
nails raking down his back so blissfully hot in his sensitive and frozen skin.
It was a sharp pain, bitter and more satisfying than any punishment he tried to
inflict on himself as shiver ran through his entire back, up and down his spine
to spread a releasing and sharp agony as his robes sagged from his shoulders. Youkai
howled at the sight of blood being drawn as Sanzo struggled underneath the
boot, wincing at the pain every movement brought but refusing to stay still.
Sanzo clenched his teeth and didn’t make a single damn sound that would give
this bastard any satisfaction at all, but he could clenched his fists and
sucking air in sharply through his nostrils, trying not to scream in
frustration.

The youkai tore
at Sanzo’s outer robes, ripping the back of the fabric off painfully. The seams
at the shoulder tore and the ruined linen broke with the sutra flying from his
shoulders and landing a few feet away on the floor beside him. The youkai didn’t
even look at it, ignoring the importance of the sutra. So, this wasn’t one of
Kougaiji’s informed bands of youkai they sent occasionally but a completely
isolated clan. The youkai kicked Sanzo in the side for no reason as it tossed back
one ruined half of Sanzo’s robes. He still had the front pinned down on his
body and sash at his waist had helped keep the bottom half on. He gasped and
tried to wrap his throbbing, bleeding arms around his side to protect the ribs.
The tight black sleeveless top underneath his robes was ripped from the claws
that dug in too deeply, warm blood soaking the wet fabric.

“Really, where
did you find him?” the youkai laughed as Sanzo stared at the sutra lying on the
floor just out of his reach. This leader thought Sanzo’s frozen, wet,
and bleeding state was fucking funny! He tried to struggle out from the youkai’s
boot, enraged that he would be forced on the ground like this. It dug its foot
in deeper and swiped down with both sets of nails again, two strokes down the
back of Sanzo’s arms to take off the ruined sleeves. Sanzo cried out this time
before he managed to bite it down when the cold skin on the back of his elbows
was cut through. He was so numb that everything just hurt, the blood
starting to drip down his back hot enough to steam in the cold winter air. The
arm warmers had two weeping gashes diagonally down the backs already leaking
blood, lighter than the ones on his back but still painful.

“The humans.
You told us ‘attack.’ I take him in river with me,” the familiar youkai
explained slowly, its slow brain working fiercely to grind out an entire
sentence or two. Sanzo was almost embarrassed that such an idiot had carried
him all the way through the forest. If Sanzo hadn’t been completely overwhelmed
by the spiritual presence of those damn rotten, filthy fucking things,
he should have at least been able to out wit this fool demon.

The youkai
leader’s foot stopped digging into his spine for a moment of horrible calmness.
The rest of the youkai in the room were silent, looking on uncomfortably now.
Sanzo knew whatever followed would be even worse than this rage, which was
nothing more than a calm, methodical destruction of all his clothes. Sanzo was
furious. He couldn’t get a robe anywhere. How dare this youkai think it could
tear his clothing so!

“You what?”
the black-haired youkai hissed, the foot lifting completely off Sanzo’s back.
Sanzo took the chance to sit up despite the explosive pain in his back and
arms, scrabbling back in a vain attempt to escape while this mad youkai was
distracted. Sanzo left the pile of ruined robes behind him, kicking out of the
cumbersome thing and extremely displeased with being forced to sit in
the middle of the room in only a pair of jeans and sandals. At least all the
youkai in the room were no longer watching him in rapture but looking on these
promising new violent situations. There was no way Sanzo would be able to make
it to the door, no matter how distracted the youkai were right now. He most
certainly wouldn’t be able to outrun demons through the snow in the shape he
was in now, so Sanzo would just have to bear it for now, no matter how repugnant
the thought was.

The familiar
youkai didn’t even get a chance to defend itself, because the leader youkai
only flicked his hand to have the rest of the comrades jumping on the single,
hairy stupid fool. These youkai were truly feral, snarling and slavering as
they attacked a friend without a care, yet more proof that the demons’ only way
to gain redemption was to be killed. The stupid youkai that had carried Sanzo
tried to fight, growling and roaring at its companions, all former ties cut
neatly while they fought. At least the youkai could try to be reincarnated, if
their hands were too bloody, though Sanzo doubted any of these demons would get
reborn as anything greater than a dung beetle for a very long time. He didn’t
feel sorry for the youkai as it was torn apart by its friends, no matter if it
had saved him from drowning in a strange way. It was one less bullet to waste.

“Now, then,
High Priest Sanzo,” the leader youkai drawled as it turned back to look upon
Sanzo with those inhuman, slitted clear blue eyes. Sanzo glared back as
fiercely as he could manage, making a scowl that could even drive a drunken
Gojyo off. That insufferable kappa was by far more insistent than this insane
youkai could ever try to be. The youkai only smirked at Sanzo’s expression,
sighing as it put one hand to its face and shook its head slightly like the
youkai couldn’t believe its luck. The large, hairy youkai was screaming now as
it was overwhelmed. Sanzo heard bones snapping and even more screaming, but it
was swallowed up by the blood-lusting howling the rest of the youkai made.

“You’re
excellent. Don’t make me have to ruin that pretty skin of yours,” The youkai
appraised, making Sanzo raise one eyebrow up to sneer down at the youkai, even
he was sitting on the floor with numb arms and a bleeding back. The pain only
made everything sharper, Sanzo’s vision tunneling down to focus on this one
youkai in front of him. He was not just another human and the youkai didn’t
know that Sanzo didn’t give a damn about his looks. The youkai must have
thought the threat would be enough to frighten any good-looking, selfish human
into begging for mercy to spare his face.

“Fuck you. I’ll
kill you,” Sanzo promised, starting to shiver less in the cold house. The fire
was warming the place up a small bit more than the bitter snowstorm outside and
the howling wind was cut off. He was starting to regain his voice again. Sanzo
looked over at the sutra, his eyes narrowing as he wondered if he could
possibly call on the spell now. He would show this pathetic group of unwashed
and unintelligent youkai just what it meant to wound Genjo Sanzo. They all
would pay dearly, as soon as he got
could stand up.

Sanzo’s
defiance was meant with a slap, a damned slap
from the back of the youkai’s large hand, as if he was a woman. His teeth
clacked together with the force of it nonetheless, which only fanned Sanzo’s
rage. He didn’t fall back from a little love tap like that, but lunged forward
to land his shoulder into the open gut of the extravagantly dressed youkai.
Sanzo ignored the pain that blossomed into the most fantastic colors behind his
eyes from his back and arms at that move, but refused to go down yet. Not to
some no name youkai in the middle of a forest located way beyond known
civilization.

His knee
connected to the youkai’s side before it howled in rage just like the animal it
was and slammed a fist against Sanzo’s temple. The world tilted and he fell
against the hard floor again with his vision turning grey. Sanzo could hear the
youkai spit something out, but he couldn’t understand a word of garbled
nonsense. It was as if reality was starting to melt away, the same dizzying
sensation he felt with those spirits in the forest. They were still out there,
waiting for who knew what, but Sanzo only knew that he could feel them waiting for him.

Sanzo felt the
boot kick him hard in the ribs more intensely than he would have liked,
suddenly returned to his senses in a second. He was rolling across the
lacquered hardwood before he even knew which way was up. Sanzo stopped moving
facedown again with his back burning as his stomach strained. He couldn’t help
vomiting despite his determination to not be humiliated in front of this youkai
audience, gagging and helpless with his arms lashed behind his back like an
animal.

He would gain back all the pride he lost
today. The second he got the chance, Sanzo was going to make these entire
bastards die a fucking slow and agonizing death. He couldn’t allow this insult
to continue, actually trying to look around out of the corner of his eye to
memorize the faces here so he would be sure to kill the lot of them. The youkai
were much closer than he thought they would be when the first youkai came into
view with a thick beard and long, flayed ears that had been ripped and scarred
over long ago. He was certain that the band had been on the other side of the
room after the leader’s casual kill, and then realized with a sick and sinking
feeling that it was because they were closer.

Sanzo wasn’t
sure if it was a single blow that landed first or more than one, but he couldn’t
even count times he was hit as youkai surrounded him. Sanzo couldn’t even curl
up into a ball or try to cover his head with his hands bound, his stomach
completely open as boots and bare feet kicked him. Claws raked his skin as well
on his arms and legs, tearing at what remained of his arm warmers and making
precise rips in the jeans. Sanzo jerked and tossed, just thinking of avoiding
it but unable to escape the tight circle the youkai had made around him.

It didn’t stop,
not until he was coughing blood and his vision was going in both eyes. Sanzo
felt like he was going to be sick, but had nothing left to throw up, couldn’t
even get the chance as his body jerked around from their blows. He gagged and
managed to get his arms up on either side of his face to protect his head from
any hard blows…which didn’t come. It was then that he realized the youkai were
still growling a slavering in a ring around him even though they were no longer
kicking him. He dully heard that single intelligent youkai hiss out an order
above the ringing in his ears, but he couldn’t make out the words. His eyes
dropped closed despite the danger and dull sense of what just might be fear in the bottom of his
stomach.

* * *

Sanzo heard the
flapping of sheets in a wind that moved across his face and lifted his hair,
peaceful and calming. He could remember the harsh winds that would pass through
the mountains back at home; some fast enough to tear the flesh from a man, and
Sanzo loved that one the best of all. Except there was the heavy smell of rain
and electricity in the atmosphere that made the hair on his arms tingle in
anticipation. Damn it all to the deepest fucking hell there was! He hated the
rain and went cold at the thought of being stuck out in the middle of the
storm, where each raindrop that hit him reminded Sanzo of that night. He knew that a storm would be coming soon, but his head
hurt too much to even consider moving, his temples aching as if red-hot needles
had been driven through each one. It was bad enough to make him grit his teeth
to keep from moaning out loud, almost… almost
ready to panic. He couldn’t even get his eyes to open now that his brain
was racing around; trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

The only thing
that relieved the pain even in the slightest was a set of fingers combing
through his hair, like Komyou had done once in his childhood. Something rotten
and miserable faked unconsciousness a little bit longer, vainly hoping that
maybe it had all been a horrible nightmare that his Master had died and he had
to start that ridiculous mission. Komyou had been the only person to actually
save him when Sanzo’s real parents had tried to drown him in a river. He was
grateful, but he hadn’t followed Komyou just because of that. It was because of
the few precious times Komyou had showed him affection, something so foreign
that Sanzo had forgotten what it felt like until just now as cool fingertips
soothed his burning and aching scalp. For once, the migraines didn’t surge up
on waking like usual.

Sanzo opened
his eyes to the dark and smooth cloudy sky as if he might fall out into the
sky, disorientated and off balance. Lines of laundry hedged off his vision,
bringing Sanzo back down until he realized his head was cushioned by someone’s
thigh and that the hand hadn’t been imagined or a lingering phantom from that
dream. He was still sprawled out on the ground where he’d fallen, those same
blankets to his left. No more memories were triggered, but his head felt like
it was ready to split open with the new knowledge. At least he had a better
idea to what had happened, but it didn’t make the situation any better. In
fact, it made him even more confused and wanting to know more. How had he ended
up back here?

More
importantly, how the fuck had he
ended up resting in Gojyo’s lap, suddenly noticing the underneath of the
youkai’s chin? Long red hair was flying in the wind, blocking Sanzo’s view of what
had been a calming in chaotic sky, shattering that small bit of tranquility
that he had managed to gain even though his head didn’t feel any better for it.
The hand belonged to the bastard that was rubbing his nasty paws through
Sanzo’s hair as if he was nothing more than a damn pet! He tried to raise his
own arm to knock Gojyo’s away, but found his muscles had turned to liquid.

“Sanzo?”
Gojyo’s voice reached down to him, actually concerned as if it would matter.
That was enough motivation to grit his teeth and refocus his gaze upward to
glare death at the bastard. Gojyo’s
chin was the prominent thing in Sanzo’s vision, followed by his eyes looking
down at him in nothing else but pure pity.

“Stop fucking
fondling me!” Sanzo snarled as he launched up from the ground, refusing to be molested a moment longer. He slapped
o’s o’s hand away and sat up in a final lurch that caused all the blood to
drain from his face. For a moment, Sanzo thought he just might actually be weak
enough to faint again, but the feeling passed. He focused straight ahead on the
laundry hanging in front of him, refusing to look at the bastard next to him.
How dare Gojyo try to take advantage
of him when he was unconscious, a true pervert to the end!

“Screw you, you
self-righteous asshole. I was just trying to help, damn it!” Gojyo snapped
right back, still buzzing away like the insect he was. Sanzo was determined to
not even give Gojyo the honor of being recognized as he stared forward and
concentrated on praying for the half-youkai’s heart to stop.

“Stop trying to
fucking ignore me!” Gojyo hissed with more anger than Sanzo had expected. A
hand grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, popping tense muscles and aching bones
that Sanzo had never allowed to be touched before. He shuddered and relaxed
without even meaning to, forgetting to be disgusted by this. Gojyo’s hand left
a burning imprint on Sanzo’s skin even through the shirt when it was gone,
making him glare at the half-breed in smoldering infuriation.

“What? Did you
want something or are you happy with raping me in my sleep?” Sanzo sneered,
finally turning to meet Gojyo’s eyes. What he saw there was a pair of red eyes
turning near black with fury. Sanzon’t n’t even see the palm that connected to
slap him back down to the ground like a fly. It wasn’t even fair to be hit on
top of all other injuries and Sanzo’s head swirled in disorientation.

“Don’t you dare say that shit when you don’t even remember it,” Gojyo hissed out in a
voice wavering with control. Sanzo wanted to argue with that, furious but
unable to sit up. He managed to get on one elbow and glared at Gojyo who was
still sitting on the ground as if nothing had happened. The side of his face
smarted and it felt like all his teeth had been rattled out of their original
spots. The fucking bastard.

“Screw you! You
think I don’t? You bastard!” Sanzo returned, sounding banal to his own ears.
Gojyo raised one eyebrow before laughing, straight out and uncontrolled howls,
at him. The half-youkai bastard didn’t even think for one moment that he could
remember what had happened. Well, he was a little bit closer now to actually
knowing everything, so fuck Gojyo and his high horse. Sanzo felt like he had
been written off before he even had the chance to speak, and no one was allowed to do that to him.

“Yeah,
whatever. Do I need to carry you in now?” Gojyo scoffed as he held out one hand
between the two of them. Two drops of rain hit the large and tanned palm
immediately, making Sanzo look up to the sky in question. Sure enough, rain hit
his cheeks and Sanzo couldn’t help the startled gasp, caught up in other
memories. Rain always meant bad things or reminded him of them, like all the
times he had been too weak to actually do anything. His Master had died because
of him in the rain.

Gojyo finally
let go of Sanzo without any warning once they were inside the door, and by some
grace or sheer luck, he managed to land on his feet. That was it, for it seemed
as though his balance had fled as well as Sanzo staggered across the floor
until he flung out one hand to the wall. He caught himself with that and
straightened up, ready to outright brawl with the bastard right now regardless
of how futile it was. He just hated Gojyo
so much, couldn’t even stand the fact that they were in the same room together.

“Don’t you have
some whore who will spread her legs to find?” Sanzo suggested snidely, hoping
that Gojyo might actually find a girl’s bed to crawl into and leave him alone
for the night. He didn’t even bother to glance back at Gojyo as he started to
make his way toward the bed.

“Just what would you know of it, Sanzo?” Gojyo used
his name like a physical blow, the sudden familiarity completely unwelcomed. Sanzo
just turned his back to that question, not about to dignify it with an answer.
Even if he was going to talk about his sexual experiences, it certainly
wouldn’t be with Gojyo. Sanzo tried to make his walk to the bed dignified, but
found himself getting sicker and sicker with each step. His head was no longer
ignorable, stabbing pains shooting all the way up and down his spine.

“That’s what I
thought. You never made love to
anyone before, right?” Gojyo sneered, for some reason sounding more vulgar for
not cursing.

“Don’t you
dare! Don’t you dare trying to
fucking know me!” Sanzo screamed out with all the frustration and irritation he
felt, enraged that Gojyo would try to figure him out. Just what right did the
youkai bastard think he had to dig into his life? He was alone, wanted to be
left alone, and would kill anyone who wouldn’t let him be alone. That was Gojyo
right now. Sanzo was shaking with his anger, wishing the gun was repaired but
considering the sutra now, because he knew that was in working order, tucked
away in the top cabinet of the dresser.

“You wanna stay
so damn mysterious. Why are you so scared of the rain?” Gojyo asked as though
his words had suddenly turned into arrows, as if he knew where the most painful and sore wound was inside him. Sanzo
found himself speechless for a moment at the words that stabbed through
something that had never healed. Komyou. His fault. Gojyo calling him a coward
for it, just like Sanzo had called himself many times before. He should have
done something, thrown his own small body in the way of that youkai instead of
allowing his Master to die in front of him like cattle. Sanzo could still
remember the calm and peaceful smile on Komyou’s face, even bloodstained and
frozen in death.

“Get out,”
Sanzo whispered with a dark fury, looking down at the rumpled bed but not
really seeing it anymore. He focused the old hurt and new offense from the
words of a half-youkai bastard into a strength he could use. Sanzo only had to
close his eyes to think of the sutra before he heard the cabinet holding the
scroll rattle immediately. Gojyo’s head whipped over to the dresser in obvious
and they both looked over to the shaking furniture, though Sanzo was narrowing
his eyes in concentration. Gojyo was staring in pure terror, probably very well
aware of what could happen to him if he wasn’t careful.

“Fuck you. You
can keep your secrets. You think I want to know a self-centered asshole
like you?” Gojyo spat out as he backed for the door, finally aware of his real
place. It sounded like a dog was barking to Sanzo’s ears through the loud
pounding of his heart pumping life through him, everything calling out to the
sutra. He could see the sacred
parchment in his mind, every word and line as clear as if he held it in his own
hands right now.

“Up-tight
bitch.”

And the door
slammed shut, shattering Sanzo’s trance in one loud explosive crack. His eyes
flew open, and Sanzo had once lucid and petty thought that Gojyo had gotten the
last word after all. He could hear the rhythmic pounding of the rain on the
roof that was always exactly the same in the room, but thankfully there wasn’t
a window to see it fall. It was reassuring enough to open his eyes and let out
a breath he’d been holding for the sutra, ni>
i>
that asshole. Then, his skull turned inside out. Sanzo didn’t have any other
word for it as the migraine came in full force, but this was beyond that. A
headache seemed like a blessed reprieve compared to the burning agony that was
coming from behind his eyes. Sanzo felt blood on his lips from his leaking nose
and forced himself to not whimper out loud. Was he bleeding from his ears? He
couldn’t even feel it as Sanzo staggered, ironically wishing that Gojyo would
come back so he could fetch Hakkai. It felt like he was dying.