Title: From the Ashes
Summary: Gojyo awakens injured, alone, in the middle of nowhere, and with no idea how he got there. When he meets up with the others, they find more questions than answers. Can Gojyo remember what happened before it's too late?
Pairings: 5x8, Gojyo+Houlan, and whispers of 5x3
Spoiler/Other Warnings: Takes place after the Saiyuki manga-verse (or after Saiyuki:Reload anime-verse, but for the sake of this story Gojyo is still in the blue-vest-poofy-pants-ensemble, um not sure why ) Also directly after the movie Saiyuki:Requiem. Watch out for "bad" language, violence, and sexual situations.
Disclaimer: I don't own Saiyuki, unfortunately. Bara is mine but she's not important, really. Un-betaed.
"Gojyo…"
The word reached his ears slowly, winding patiently through a drowsy sort of haze that muffled his senses. He distantly wondered at that - the languid, tired fog, which had descended upon him. His name had been spoken by a richly feminine voice, deep and smooth as plum wine. This, at least, enticed Gojyo. He began to imagine an alluring face, long legs, and petal-soft lips that formed the beckoning words and was almost impelled to shake away his lazy stupor. Almost. Gojyo assigned the feelings as affects of an all too familiar hangover and resigned himself to the fatigue that tugged at his limbs. He silently congratulated himself on bedding whomever possessed the velvety voice, a small smirk playing across his features.
"Gojyo, wake up!"
That was not so pleasant. Gojyo's smile faded as the words became impatient, insistent, and laced through with more than just a hint of annoyance. The unmistakable anger quickly dissolved his lingering drowsiness. Gojyo did not welcome this sudden awakening as it made him acutely aware of a lancing pain that enveloped his body.
With a groan Gojyo slowly forced himself to alertness, blinking to clear bleary vision as he swiped the back of a hand across his eyes. That small movement alone triggered a dull ache in his arm and a twinge of pain across the back of his shoulders. Gojyo breathed in sharply at the sensation, gingerly placing an arm to prop himself up from where he lay.
The hand meant to steady him sunk deeply into a considerable layer of soft yet stingingly cold snow that Gojyo hadn't known surrounded him. Not until that moment, he realized with slight surprise. Though his vision had returned, it took considerable effort to make out anything through the heavy screen of wet snowflakes battered by a swift and chill wind.
Shit, where the hell am I…?
Forming that single thought from his collection of disarrayed reactions seemed almost too much for Gojyo. It felt as though his mind was trying to claw its way out from within his skull, resulting in a sharp and persistent pain. He clutched a hand to his forehead, trying to ward off the headache and a sudden wave of nausea that accompanied it.
"Shit…" he said shakily. The bank of snow Gojyo was seated in had begun to seep its icy wetness into his clothes, his body shivered slightly in response as his buried hand went numb. Eventually, stubbornness won out over uncooperative muscles that complained with stabs of agony or unrelenting aches as he raised himself from the frigid bed. Managing to stay on his feet required nearly as much effort. Gojyo's right leg quivered unsteadily at any attempt to bear weight and slowly leaked hot, crimson blood from the back of the knee down his calf.
He looked down at the bank of icy snow painted with spattered blood. Pain suddenly flared once more across Gojyo's chest and back, forcing a hurt grunt from his lips.
Damn, hope I wasn't the only one who got thrashed…I'd never live it down.
A flash of panic gripped his chest at the thought. The others…where?…He immediately regretted his unspoken words. What if they're worse off than me?
"Oi! Sanzoooo!" Gojyo tried to conceal the worry in his voice with his usual drawl, though it sounded strained even to his own ears. He managed to make the call obnoxious enough to elicit a disgruntled reaction from the priest, if he had heard. The wind blew in silent response.
"Hakkai?" Gojyo blinked away snowflakes as they melted on his long eyelashes.
"Monkey!" He had to calm down. He had to find them.
Gojyo swallowed roughly and cast his gaze further along the ground. There were no signs of footprints anywhere, neither his own, any of his traveling companions', nor ones belonging to the woman who had awakened him.
A woman?
Gojyo's mind swirled in his skull again and threatened to topple him back into the snow. Any fleeting detail of the woman Gojyo attempted to latch on to blurred and dissipated like ink in water. Probably just wishful thinking. He chuckled breathlessly. Too much cold had frozen his brain, or too much blood had flowed away from it. Either way, all he could do was stand there, laughing deliriously.
He realized that staggering through the snow in search of his friends would be next to pointless, in his condition. Gojyo clenched his jaw in frustration over his own helplessness.
"Damn it!" He really needed a cigarette. Gojyo fumbled through the pocket lining his blue vest only to find a pack of Hi-Lites crumpled and soaked through with blood and melted snow. He felt like cursing again.
As if to mock him, a thin swath of smoke made a charcoal-gray smudge against the sky. Despite his exhaustion, Gojyo immediately noticed the smoke trail, which disappeared behind a line of trees weighted with snow. The constant rush of wind carried the faintest sent of burnt wood and cooked food.
"Finally, a little luck," Gojyo sighed. He tiredly began making his way towards the only sign of another living person, careful not to upset his wounds any more than necessary.
Even moving slowly, the cold and the pain were hard to ignore. Gojyo tried to assess his injuries, too aware of the sinister, continual flow of blood. The hurt seemed centered around a set of deep gashes etched across his shoulders and down his back. He was going to find the bastard who had the nerve to attack him from behind and pay him back. Doubly. Gojyo grimaced and attempted to tamp down the rising anger he felt over the wound, realizing he was just as frustrated at himself for showing his vulnerability.
The slashes held a feeling of familiarity - the telltale ache of youkai claws raked across flesh. At the thought, twin scars beneath his eye twinged with remembered pain, an old yet never fully healed wound.
Before Gojyo could fall prey to contemplation, he was snapped back to snowy reality when his foot met with a shallow trench. Curious, he scanned the ground to find another long, parallel divot, which caused the snow to dip subtly. It was a road; at least, enough vehicles had passed through to create low ruts in the soil.
A memory slowly floated to the surface of Gojyo's thoughts: they had driven away from town that morning, down this road, he was sure of it. But there was no sign of Hakuryu's tire tracks, nor any others, only untouched snow. Gojyo glanced towards the sky to try to gauge the time of day, which was difficult with the heavy clouds sagging along the skyline. It was midday, at the latest, he finally decided; maybe it had snowed enough during that time to conceal any tracks. Maybe it wasn't the same day at all, he conceded gloomily.
Think, Gojyo…Hakkai would be able to figure this out.
With a defeated sigh he continued his trek towards the promising trickle of smoke.
Gojyo wasn't sure how long he had been walking, long enough so that every halting step through the calf-deep snow felt more arduous than a round-trip journey to India. He was practically panting, clouds of misty breath hung briefly before dispersing into the frigid air that stung his straining lungs. Finally, Gojyo could glimpse the small town situated between low hills and clusters of trees. Only a few buildings lined the snowed-in road, the rest of the village stretched perpendicularly away into the landscape. Gojyo felt a tingle of hopeful excitement at the sight of the latest inn that had offered them temporary shelter and comfort. Its wooden sign, reading "Snow Blossom Lodge", hung from one of many poles used to string an awning in better weather.
Just a little farther. Only a little farther… He repeated the words more religiously than any mantra Sanzo had ever recited in his life.
The last few strides up the inn's steps and onto its wooden porch seemed practically effortless in comparison. Gojyo hesitated outside, briefly wondering if there was any way to enter, staggering and bloody as he was, without completely losing his last shred of dignity.
"Fuck it."
He pushed open the door and stepped into the lodge, empty except for a young woman who turned in response to his entrance.
"Welcome, how can I…" she began, her voice halting as soon as she saw the half-breed's battered form. Gojyo couldn't decide if he was more comforted by the enveloping warmth of the fire lapping eagerly at the hearth or the sudden rush of relief upon seeing a familiar face. The woman's sunset-red hair mirrored the firelight, her green eyes widening the longer she looked at the bloodied man before her. Bara - how could he forget?
"Hey sweetness, long time no see," Gojyo managed to wink and raise a hand in a nonchalant wave, he had an image to maintain after all. Though he didn't think it possible, Bara appeared even more startled, her lips trembled slightly before she replied.
"Who…who are you?"
Author's Note:
Well, there's the first chapter, hope you enjoyed it! This is my first venture into the Saiyuki fandom, I'm excited. Sorry for the cliffhanger-esque ending. I wish I could say that I promise I'll have the next installment up soon but, honestly, I'm not expecting to finish chapter two until August. I'm sorry! I thought I should give you fair warning. However, I have the entire plot planned out so it will definitely be completed.
Actually, this may be more like a prologue than an actual chapter. I promise more contemplation and action later on.
I was conflicted about rather to use "monkey" or "saru" – what do you think?
Feedback is always welcome and thanks again.