Chapter 29
Gojyo floated above a haze of shimmering images and half-remembered words, not knowing if he should plunge into them again or fight to keep their promised respite away. It seemed he had been teetering forever on the verge of two different planes of existence: there was the one in which his feverish body shivered in the dark, and there was this strange, alluring landscape of light and blurring forms. In the former, the incessant buzzing that made him keen in sheer despair meant flies banqueting on children's corpses; in the latter, it became the humming of bees in a flowery field. And he wanted the bees, not the flies; he wanted that beautiful meadow that he and his teammates had crossed once during a lazy afternoon.
So peaceful, so warm, so perfect…
…the high grass brushed softly against his legs, and he slowed down his pace to avoid trampling the carpet of wild flowers. At his side, Hakuryu perched on a shoulder, Hakkai halted and looked up, unconcerned with the busy bees that had already gathered around him. Gojyo took in the big cloud that held his friend's attention and smiled. "A ship," he said. "It even has sails, see?" Hakkai nodded, then returned his smile.
An unexpected musical chortle made Gojyo turn around, surprised. Sanzo. Sanzo approached them, laughing at something Goku had said or done, and Sanzo's laughter was sunny and clean and full of life, like the spring afternoon itself. Gojyo could not help feeling jealous. Because Sanzo's rare laugher fit so well in the joyful moment, made it complete, made it eternal in its absolute flawlessness, but it was for Goku, Sanzo's laughter was always for Goku, not for him. Never for him.
"Why?" he murmured dejectedly as the scene flickered, growing dim. The shadows… The shadows were advancing, the gruesome shadows, and Gojyo watched in dismay as the daisies around him wilted and died. "Sanzo, why?"
"You're nothing," Sanzo answered with indifference as he walked away with Hakkai and Goku.
"No, wait! Sanzo!" Gojyo cried, attempting to follow them. "Let me be with you!" The prairie was only a vast blackened desert now, and he had to struggle for each step, as the darkness thickened and wrapped around him. "Don't leave me here! Sanzo! I need your—"
Light.
There was light now.
"Sanzo?" Gojyo blinked owlishly.
A group of humans stood outside his cell. One was talking to him. Ordering him to get up.
Gojyo squinted at the lanterns being hung on hooks between his and the dead family's cage. Gods, he had been dreaming…
"Up, youkai!" thundered the same impatient soldier again.
Gojyo tried, and failed, to get to his knees. The man cursed, and then there was a screeching rusty noise.
The cell door …
…unlocked…
…opened…
A chance to escape.
All he had to do was jump to his feet and conjure up his shakujou.
Now!
He was still on the floor with nothing in his hands when the soldiers came. Snarling in frustration, then in pure agony when immovable strength squeezed his swollen left wrist into thick manacles, Gojyo was seized and hauled up.
"Shit, what does the Colonel want with this thing?" whispered the soldier who held him from behind.
"Interrogate it, maybe," answered another, in an equally low tone. "The riots began after its arrival."
"It's burning up," commented a third. "Whatever it's got, I hope it's not contagious."
"Since when is an infected knife wound contagious?"
Wound … infected?
Gojyo chuckled, despite the pain that threatened to send him into a bout of beast-like howls. Infected, indeed. And if these men spent enough time in here with him, they would be able to watch as fly larvae hatched and crawled out of his rotting arm.
And why did such a ghastly image seem so hilarious? It was so hard to laugh and dry retch at the same time that, for a moment, Gojyo thought that he would die suffocated by his own hysteria. He sagged in the soldiers' clutches after expelling a mouthful bile, too weak and too dizzy to do anything but stare blankly at the metallic buttons of the closest dark jacket.
He was taken from his cell and dragged for a few steps into the corridor. Unable to lock his knees to support his weight, he began trying to pull his bad arm free, growling in frantic, desperate affliction. The leader grunted an exasperated command, and the soldier who had Gojyo by his arm shifted his grip to Gojyo's chest and waist while the other two grasped and raised his legs. Gojyo managed to utter a "Thanks," though he knew that the rearrangement of his position had not been made out of kindness but for expediency. What use would it be to bring an unconscious prisoner to their waiting colonel?
And that man… That evil, frightening man would 'interrogate' him again. Gojyo shivered, and willed his eyes to focus. The fresh air helped to clear his fogged mind a little, but it was still difficult to pay attention to the deserted passageways he was carried through.
He did not what to be with that man again… He could not be with him again!
Sanzo, help!
The silent party stopped at a door, then Gojyo found himself in a well-lit room. Not so big or empty like last night's; there were maps and shelves full of books lining the walls, and a functional table in the center. The Colonel stood there, talking and listening to a group of older officers and Gojyo's stomach churned violently when he held up a hand in the air, interrupting the conversation. "Ah, Gojyo, good evening," came the pleasant greeting. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable?" It was the cue for the soldiers to move Gojyo to a chair in a corner. The Colonel smiled and resumed his conversation with a "But you were saying, Captain?"
Whatever the surprised captain still had to say was now delivered in a much more hushed tone.
Biting his lower lip to prevent his teeth from chattering, Gojyo surveyed further his surroundings. The high barred window showed a slice of a starry sky. Was this still the same night that he had watched plunging his cell into darkness? Or had a whole day passed with him lost in lethargic delirium?
Had that poor girl died today or yesterday? It was important to remember. Because to disregard her death so easily, as he had so easily disregarded her life, would be the final affront.
Gojyo noticed a pair of intense eyes studying him from a niche among rolls of parchments and returned the stare dully, until his sluggish thoughts linked the round face to the wretched misery his body had become. He was looking at the butcher who had used the knife on him. Lieutenant Whatever.
He hissed and tried to get up, only to be pushed back in place by his guards. The one at his left brutally twisted his handcuffed wrists, clamping his fingers on Gojyo's jaw and nose to seal the scream in. "Embarrass us in front of the Colonel," the man's whisper was barely audible, "and I'll personally rip your balls off, demon." A cruel last jerk, then Gojyo was released to sink into excruciating pain.
"…a troop has already been allocated to that area, Captain. Now I want barricades set up in the lower districts…" The Colonel's distant words hung in the air for a timeless moment, as Gojyo struggled to break into the surface of reality.
"…the newest reports…"
"…civilian casualties…"
"…can't estimate their exact number, Colonel, but…"
Gojyo began controlling his ragged breathing, and gradually the world around him materialized again. He straightened in his chair, suddenly aware of the absence of the background voices. The older officers were gone, though the Butcher still hovered nearby. As did his watchdogs. "This, Luo-san," the Colonel said, leaning over the table to take a piece of paper, "is the third letter I've received from our Head of the Council in the last two hours. Xie-sama demands special protection from us. According to him, youkai will break into his house and roast him and his family for dinner."
"Xie Dewei-sama is overreacting, sir. The northern district is safe—"
"I want you to choose two men and go to his house. Keep him off my back until this whole mess is sorted out."
The Butcher grimaced. "Sir? But—"
"Did the youkai behave itself on his way to this room, Corporal?" the Colonel interrupted, turning to the man standing at Gojyo's right side.
"Yes, sir."
"Good." And he lifted a cigarette to his lips. Gojyo recognized the crumpled pack and the lighter as his own. "Very good."
"Colonel—"
"A moment, Luo-san. You and you." The Colonel pointed at two of Gojyo's guards. "Stay outside. If this demon puts as much as its nose out of that door, shoot him dead. The rest of you are dismissed. Go report to Captain Kwan on the courtyard." The orders were acknowledged with a curt bow and obeyed with expediency as he looked at Gojyo, smiling.
"Sir, if I may?" the Butcher rasped after the others had exited the room.
"You may, Luo-san," the Colonel answered good-humoredly without breaking his stare. Gojyo lowered his head, uncomfortable. "But be quick."
"Sir, I—I don't understand why you ordered this thing to be brought here!"
"And?"
"Colonel, I can't leave you alone with it! That's why I'm asking your permission to kill it now, sir."
"Why, Luo-san, Gojyo's deadline hasn't expired yet."
"Yes, but… It'll die anyway, ne? Today, tomorrow, what's the difference? Why assume risks with such a dangerous creature, when there are so many more pressing issues? It isn't even properly restrained! It can attack—"
"Did you hear that, Gojyo?" the Colonel drawled. "Lieutenant Luo thinks I'm not able to deal with you."
"Sir, I have only your best interests—"
"Permission denied. Anything else?"
Luo hesitated. "No, sir. Though—"
"Give my regards to Xie Dewei-sama. Tell him I'm going to report to the Council personally, first thing in the morning."
The Butcher glowered at Gojyo one last time, then left. In the following silence, Gojyo leaned forward in his chair, greedily inhaling the cigarette smoke. He was alone with him now… And the fucker… The cursed fucker was only a human… It would not be that difficult to waste him, would it? He had to … had to fight. Had to kill.
"So, Gojyo," the Colonel hummed, "aren't you curious to know what all this fuss is about?"
"No," Gojyo murmured, licking his crusted lips. The throbbing in his bad arm seemed to flare up in tune with his mounting craving. Fuck, he needed that cigarette.
"You should. You see, some of our youkai went mad. We have several casualties, both military and civilian."
Gojyo let out a tired snort and looked at him. "And you're blaming me?"
"And aren't you to be blamed? You and your friends? You, the Gods' Chosen Ones?" The Colonel blew a lungful of cigarette smoke towards the ceiling and Gojyo's nostrils flared in hunger. "Either those demons were changed into killing machines by your monk's enemies, or they became your gods' instruments to distract and punish us for interfering with your group. Xie Dewei, our Head of the Council, believes the latter."
"It—It doesn't work like that," Gojyo croaked.
"Well, be that as it may, we'll have to clean up after your Sanzo."
"How come—" Gojyo started then held his breath. The bastard talked as if he knew the fake priest. Could it be true? Was Sanzo here? If he asked… Would his questions be answered or would they be used to torment him further? He was not trustworthy; he was…
Evil.
The Colonel laughed, as if quite aware of Gojyo's inner battle "You're priceless, Gojyo! But we were talking about Sanzo, eh? I came across him this evening. He was very, very upset. Hakkai's death really affected him."
Gojyo froze. "What?"
"It was a mistake, of course," the Colonel continued easily. "I explained to Sanzo that you resisted arrest and tried to attack one of our men in the park. That Hakkai was shot trying to protect you."
"What are you talking about? Hakkai is…"
"Dead." The Colonel tapped off the cigarette ash with a bored gesture. "Died from his head injury in that prison where you both were taken."
Gojyo gaped at him, shaking his head. Hakkai… Hakkai was… "No," he slurred drunkenly. "It's… It's not true."
He shrugged. "Believe what you want."
"It—it can't be true," Gojyo insisted in a whimper, slipping from the chair to the floor. "Hakkai is…" my friend my harbor the only thing that's good in my life… "It isn't true!"
"You've been my guest since yesterday, Gojyo. Have I lied to you yet?"
On his knees, unable to think, Gojyo stared stupidly at nothing. He was only pain, only despair, only this primal gathering roar that would tear his chest apart when he let it out.
Hakkai.
Hakkai was…
Oh merciful, merciful gods!
There was a strange taste in his mouth, something watery. His dehydrated body, beastly thing that it was, accepted it, even when there was no actual command to do so. He gagged a little, but managed to swallow several mouthfuls.
Alcohol.
He was drinking alcohol.
Fiery alcohol that burned his parched throat and made him splutter and cough and wake up a little from his shocked trance.
"Better?" a voice asked. "Gojyo? Are you feeling better?"
Gojyo raised tearing eyes. He was also on the floor, a metal cup in his hands, smiling patronizingly.
"I thought you were going to faint, little demon."
"What—what did Sanzo do?" Gojyo heard himself speaking, though a part of his mind was still floating. "He can't… He can't leave Hakkai…"
"Ah, the burial, you mean? We lent Sanzo a wagon. Then he and the boy—what's his name again?"
"Goku."
"Yeah, Goku. Sanzo and Goku left the town together. I suppose they'll give Hakkai a decent grave at the roadside. Suitable, isn't it? You four have traveled so much."
Gojyo opened and closed his mouth, transfixed.
Hakkai's burial.
Hakkai's grave.
Because Hakkai…
Hakkai was…
"…gone?" he begged.
"Sanzo, you mean?" And the Colonel canted his head with mock seriousness. "Yes. I won't lie and tell you we'll miss him. He has quite a temper for a monk."
"Sanzo… Sanzo wouldn't go without me."
"But he did. He's quite pissed with you, so he was willing to leave you under our, uh, care for some time. You see, Gojyo, he doesn't know we're going to execute you tomorrow." And the Colonel saluted him with the cup. "Don't worry, though. If he comes back for you, we're going to tell him you escaped. So he won't have your death on his conscience as you have Hakkai's on yours."
Gojyo frowned, lost, and started rocking slightly back and forth.
Hakkai.
Hakkai was gone.
Hakkai was…
"I'm cold," he mumbled inanely, because it was the only thing he knew for sure right now.
The Colonel grunted in sympathy. "There's a small room connected to this one," he purred, "a room with a fireplace. Lieutenant Luo always leaves some wood at hand, even during summer, to warm water for my baths. I'm sure he took all measures to assure my comfort regarding such matters tonight; he knew I was going to sleep in this wing. Gojyo?" The Colonel snapped his fingers in front of Gojyo's eyes. "Hey. Stay with me, yes? I have a proposition for you."
"Prop—proposition?"
"You know you're going to die tomorrow, right?" Gojyo nodded indifferently and the Colonel nodded back at him. "The way you will die, though… That will be up to you."
"Me?"
"Yes. I'm a lonely man, and the truth is that I like you. We could go to that room over there and have a good time together." Gojyo shook his head and tried to raise his hands to cover his naked chest but his bad arm could not sustain the heavy manacles. "I'm not a rapist, Gojyo," the Colonel went on, "so if you say no to me, it will be no. I will send you back down. A man should not spend his last night on Earth alone, though, so I'm sure you'll be glad to share your three jolly companions' cell."
Gojyo widened his eyes, terrified. "No."
"Honestly, Gojyo, you aren't very good with words, are you? Is that a 'No, I don't want to spend a night handcuffed to a youkai's corpse' or a 'No, I don't want to sleep in your bed?' And why is my proposal such a big thing, after all? Sanzo himself told me you're nothing but a whore, so I thought we could reach an arrangement."
Gojyo stopped his swaying. "Sanzo … told you?"
"In the end, it won't change anything, of course," the Colonel explained silkily. "But, if you're accommodating, I'll let you die like a man of honor, not like an animal. If you're good to me I'll be good to you." And he smiled. "Instead of executing you tomorrow, I will let you kill yourself."
