CHAPTER 2
Argument would have been futile, so he settled for locating the half bottle of whisky and poured himself a glass. Gojyo watched him out of the corner of one eye, while lighting another cigarette.
"I don't intend to move from this place until I get at least another night of solid sleep," Sanzo said bluntly.
"I thought you were used to sleeping in the open. And buggering out of places plenty quick." There was a click from the lighter. "But I could do with proper bed for a change too."
"Get your own room."
"Ah? Not that I would want to share with a short-fused, cranky monk like you. But, in case you were wondering, I'm taking this with me." He held up a familiar looking green scroll.
Sanzo glared. Just glared with all the fury that had been brewing in him since the start of the encounter, with all the fury and pent up frustration that months and months and years of evading pursuers had instilled in him. A practical move, yes, and one that he would have done if he'd been in Gojyo's place. But, quite apart from the fact that it stood in the way of any escape plans, it was a damn insult and a mockery of his ability to defend the sutra.
Gojyo must have sensed it -- no, the man would have been blind, deaf, and stuck in a nuclear shelter to not have sensed his anger -- for he hurried for the door with a cheery wave and a promise to 'right next door if you should need anything'. Sanzo said nothing in reply, but privately plotted revenge.
The door slammed. Sanzo let out a breath as a hiss of air through clenched teeth and glared at the woodwork for a while. Somewhere in the back of his head, a small voice was trying to reassure him that, thus far, everything was proceeding according to plan. Or, at least, proceeding according to the norm. He'd maneuvered out of such situations before; this would be no exception.
That little voice, however, was rapidly being drowned out by the rising temper. He was sick and tired of it all, the running, the hiding, the bounty hunters. He would have to check whether the damn reward for his capture had increased again. At this rate, he would have the whole world on his heels.
Damn the man... did he really expect him to believe a tale as warped as that?
It took a while for the anger to die down, but he finally smothered the worst of it and began working on a plan.
***
Gojyo had made two critical mistakes -- the first was a failure to disable his quarry, the second was letting him out of his sight. One of the two had proved sufficient to allow Sanzo to slip from the net in the past; preventing him from doing so this time would require all of Gojyo's skill and ingenuity. However, the half-youkai was currently enjoying a drink, with his thoughts far away (and centering around a certain Goddess), sparing little or no thought to the priest in the next room.
***
The gun was not in his room. So. Gojyo had taken it as well. Sanzo cursed his luck and cursed the headache, and considered his situation.
He was badly in need of a day's rest -- he had been on the road for over a month, and spent no less than a quarter of it evading pursuit from the last band of humans, and another few days fending off youkai attacks. He had not escaped from the latter unscathed, and although the wounds were partially healed, they were not wholly recovered, and still troubled him on occasion. That and the brandy had had a hand in determining the outcome of his fight with Gojyo. Certainly, the man had the advantage of strength, but, when fully functional, Sanzo was still faster and generally more experienced. He also lacked the necessity of keeping his target alive.
However, musing about the hows and the whys of the fight was not about to help him in this situation. The sun was starting to set -- an early night, it seemed, was the only sensible recourse.
It was then that he realized that, yes, even Sanzos needed nourishment once in a while.
Gojyo's door slammed open the moment he stepped into the corridor. Sanzo strode off without a pause, until a hand grabbed his wrist. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
He raised a slender brow. "Downstairs. I intend to have dinner, even if you don't."
"Ah," Gojyo replied, releasing his hand. "Actually, I do want dinner. So nice of you to ask."
"Go to hell, asshole," he replied, and continued walking.
It was somewhat expected that Gojyo followed him, settled into the same table and proceeded to order a large meal and an adequate supply of beer to last it. Sanzo patently ignored him.
"Are both of you travelling together?" the waitress asked as she served the drinks. "I thought that you arrived separately."
"Yeah, we are. Just met up here, that's all," Gojyo replied. "Say--"
"Are you a priest?" the waitress asked of Sanzo.
Silence greeted her.
"He's not in a good mood," Gojyo whispered conspiratorially. "Now I'm always in the mood--"
"No," she replied, sweetly but firmly. "So is he a priest or not?"
"Doesn't look it, but he is. Well, sort of."
Heads were starting to turn. Sanzo, the bandanna traded for a headband to mask his identity, silently cursed Gojyo and opened a can of beer.
"Did you hear? Genjo Sanzo was spotted at Xia An just a month or so back. They said that he was passing East, in this direction. Although why he would be passing East is a good question..." the waitress said, eyeing him.
Sanzo looked up then, skewering her with a glare from baleful purple eyes. "If you were insinuating anything, forget it. I am not a Sanzo Houshi."
Gojyo gave him an amused look. Sanzo kicked him under the table.
"Well, I don't want to pry, but they did say--"
"They always say that. I do believe that you have other customers to attend to."
"Oh.. I'm sorry." The girl finally took the hint and hurried off.
"Liar," Gojyo whispered.
Sanzo gave him a deadly look. "It would be wise to shut your trap."
"Why do you even wear a robe, then? It would be easier if you didn't dress like a priest, you know."
"Convenience. Clothing is hard to come by. Moreover, priests are still accorded freedom of passage through many regions in a time when many cities are turning back refugees."
"Right. You're telling me... I had a bitch of a time following you."
"You don't have to."
"Oh, I believe I do. Kanzeon told me in more words that if I screwed up the way you did, we're all dead, and I'm the first to go."
He didn't quite buy that -- if the gods were following their usual 'Thou-shalt-not-kill' mantra, that would be highly unlikely. There had to be some other reason for it; Sanzo strongly suspected that the ten thousand gold pieces that Chou'An temple was offering spoke loudly than any conjured deity. However, he was not one to speculate on the motives of his pursuers, and certainly, he did not care.
"Although I can see why you'd get sick of it after a while." Gojyo was saying. "Me, I wouldn't be in your place for the world."
"Shut up," he hissed, frustrated and in no mood to discuss his problems. And certainly, people were getting far too curious for their own good. If someone else--
--"Hey, are you--"
He went for his gun before he realized that it was gone. Normally, a loaded barrel shut people up as effectively as it raised questions about his identity, and he would hesitated to resort to one, but he was edgy and short-tempered and...
...and the gun wasn't there. Fine.
"No. I'm not." As if he would identify himself willingly, knowing the consequences.
"Yeah, and I'm the Jade Emperor. If you're not Genjo Sanzo, you look a hell lot--"
Suddenly, Gojyo there, leaning against Sanzo's chair and smiling in a not so friendly fashion. "Curiosity killed the cat, isn't that what they say?"
"Hey man, what do--"
"I mean, go away." There was something distinctly hostile in Gojyo's tone, something that suggested that this was not someone you wanted to mess around with.
"Doesn't hurt to ask, right?" the other muttered, all bravado and wounded ego, but headed back to his seat.
Sanzo had had enough of this. Pushing his chair back, disregarding the fact that Gojyo was in the way, he turned and headed back upstairs.
***
His door clicked open. Sanzo turned from the window, a frown on his face and a cigarette dangling between his lips.
"About just now..." Gojyo stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "I'm sorry."
"What the hell for?" Sanzo asked bitterly.
"Drawing attention to us, I guess. Hey, I brought up your dinner."
Sanzo's frown deepened, and he transferred the cigarette to one hand. "Just who are you?"
"I told you," Gojyo said. "Unless you're that bad at names."
"You know what I'm asking," Sanzo said, studying him intently. "Why are you doing this?"
"I was serious when I told you about divine intervention," Gojyo replied, without even the hint of a smirk. "I know it sounds corny, but that's how it is. You're that important, you know."
"I would have thought that the reward was rather more persuasive than any divine entity."
"Cash is always good. But if that was the only reason, I'd have given it all up as a bad job the last time; it's not been worth the effort. Trust me."
"Oh? Ten thousand gold pieces? Not worth the effort?"
"Fifteen thousand. Yes, and not worth the effort."
"So what are your reasons? And don't tell me that a goddess can scare you into doing something that you wouldn't do for fifteen thousand golds."
"This," Gojyo replied succintly, curling a strand of red hair around a finger. "I trust you know its significance."
Sanzo nodded minutely. He'd suspected that it was part of the reason.
"Half human. Half youkai. Now the youkai hate the humans, and the humans hate the youkai. Quite a tough place to be, in the middle. And, even if we can't fix things back to what they used to be, even if we can't ever stop the two races from hating each other in our lifetime, we could at least make a start."
Sanzo snorted slightly. "Who ever gave you that idea?"
"No one. Just common sense. Stop this nonsense. Give everyone long enough. They'll forget it... humans and youkai alike have short memories. A few generations down the road--"
"The 'stopping it' part is the question," Sanzo said, discarding the cigarette stub and turning back to the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark and overcast. Not a star gleamed through. "I'm not a miracle worker. How do you expect me to single-handedly remedy the entire problem? They couldn't do it, given an army; the Battle of Tenjiku proved that. There is no way I can do it alone. This whole idea is a half-baked notion coined by those fools in Chou'An who just want to stop the masses from going crazy with fear."
"The sutra," Gojyo replied. "And tactics. They marched a whole army in plain sight to Tenjiku -- badly armored and badly equipped, over deserts and mountains. By the time they got there, they only had a quarter of an army. And they were harassed all the way by youkai. I wouldn't have placed a peanut on their chances. A team sent in stealth, on the otherhand--"
"Is equally doomed to failure."
"You'll never know if you never try, right? And besides, your current course of action is certain to fail."
Sanzo did not reply. Privately, he had marshalled sufficient arguments over the past years to debate the issue for hours.... but there was no point in doing so. The whole notion of a 'Savior' was so ingrained in human mindset that it was impossible to dislodge by words alone.
They were all doomed to failure. Nothing -- not his course of action, not their course of action, was about to change that.
"Sleep well," Gojyo said quietly. There was click as the door opened, and another click as it shut behind him. Sanzo sighed quietly, and continued to gaze out of the window. The heavy clouds promised rain that night.
***