A/N : Rush rush rush. Written on on a late night of a bad day with far too much medication, far too little inspiration and a clawing need for Saiyuki fanfic. More fight scenes. *sighs and pushes Muse to write*
CHAPTER 11
Where confrontations occur.
Warnings : Angst, violence, character-abuse, swearing, terminally stressed fanfic author.
"You're just stalling for time!" Goku yelled, as Isir showed no sign of halting his ranged attacks.
"Am I?"
"If you want to fight me, fight me! Don't keep up this cowardly pretense..." Goku glanced at the doors. "If you're not going to be serious about this, I'll be on my way!"
Isir smiled, the lazy grin of someone who had the upperhand and knew it. "You have no idea what you're asking for. But since you asked for it..."
The last ki blast barreled deep into the ground at Goku's feet, raising a cloud of dust. Coughing, Goku swatted at his face, his eyes tearing and his vision totally obscured. "What--"
Air flew out of his lungs as the fist caught him into the stomach, and he was aware of a brief moment of weightlessness before he crashed into the stony floor, skinning both elbows. Hastily, he summoned Nyoibou and used it as a crutch to push himself to his feet, prepared to ward off the follow-up attack.. that never came.
Isir stepped forward. Distant candles were mirrored in his eyes, dancing flames in a sea of blue, and Goku felt a surge of self-doubt.
I might be better.. stronger.. faster, but he doesn't fight conventionally...
He adjusted his grip on his staff, aware that his palms were uncomfortably damp.
Unpredictable. I can't tell where, how, or even when he's going to strike. And he took down Sanzo, even with his gun..
"Are you going to stand there, Son Goku? Or are you going to strike, as you promised to do? Time is passing, as you pointed out."
"You're not going to goad me into attacking," Goku ground out.
"Oh?"
Goku glared back.
Isir raised a slender eyebrow. "If that's so... then I'll perform the honors."
***
Sanzo staggered. There was something nagging at the back of his head, a half-familiar sound, that he was sure he had heard before... heard a lot, in fact. But he wasn't quite thinking straight at the moment, and thoughts chased themselves and became entangled in other thoughts, then lost themselves in the darkness.
He couldn't remember how long he'd been walking for. He'd counted turnings, trying to memorize the way back in case he needed it, but as he turned and turned and walked and walked and saw nothing but identical corridor after identical corridor...
No sign of Hakkai. No sign of Gojyo, Isir, or any living object.
The stone was cold beneath his fingers, a welcomed contrast to the burning heat of the fever that seemed to be creeping through him. His eyes drifted shut, just for a handful of breaths, he promised himself, just to get to back to a level where he could continue the mad search for Hakkai or for something that would give him a clue as to his whereabouts. Just a few moments...
His consciousness had other ideas. His consciousness sank like a stone, racing down through the darkness, and dragged him down with it.
***
"Good morning."
Gojyo groaned and flung an arm over his face. "Shut the damn window, Hakkai. You're letting all the light in."
"But it's time to get up," Hakkai replied, relentless in his courtesy.
"Just five more minutes," Gojyo mumbled. Damn, but the bed was hard today. Had he fallen asleep on the floor again? And what was that bug that was crawling over his arm--
--Memory snapped back into place with all the force of a rubber band stretched to its limits and released.
"Shit!" Gojyo sat bolt upright. "What the--"
"You have a cockroach on your arm," Hakkai pointed out.
"SHIT!" He swatted the intruder to the ground, leapt to his feet, and stomped it into a paste before it could scurry away.
Hakkai held up the torch that he'd purloined from a bracket in the wall. The glow reflected a short stone corridor, ended by a stairwell that wound downwards.
"How did we get here?" Gojyo said woozily, discovering the largish bump on the back of his head. And the world goes round and round and rounddddddd......
Hakkai reached out an arm to steady him before he could go crashing down onto the floor again. "We fell. There was a beam in your way, I'm afraid."
"Oh. That's gotta suck," Gojyo mumbled. "How far was it? Did we manage to evade those guards?"
"Far enough, it seems," Hakkai said, looking upwards. "But, thankfully, not far enough to break anything either."
"So it worked, then. The lucky pair, both of us."
"Indeed. If you're up to it, I think this is the only way out," Hakkai said, indicating the corridor with a tilt of his head. "The other way would just be back the way we came."
"But several storeys lower."
"Even so. I have a hunch..." Hakkai cracked a smile -- number 503, if Gojyo was any judge, the 'I'm sorry, but I can't think of a better excuse' smile.
"Oh, whatever. We can't get more lost than we already are."
"Absolutely."
It was the slight touch of wind on their faces that alerted them; it was a stone here or a mark there that tipped they off, so they gathered after a while that they were entering a section of the fortress that they'd been to before.
Gojyo kicked a shard that might have once belonged to a metal bar, and glanced at the ruined cell where they had last seen Isir. He glanced at Hakkai, who nodded briefly. "One suspects.. if Sanzo lost in a fight against Isir..."
"What makes you think so? The monk's got a gun, guarenteed to give anyone a run for their money."
"Goku mentioned that he was in trouble. And Isir... Isir's not the type to fall to a gun."
"If he did, I'd feel awfully cheated," Gojyo muttered.
"And I can sense blood down here," Hakkai continued. "Something.. not youkai, and definitely split recently."
"Well, nothing to do but go on," Gojyo shrugged. "If Sanzo's down here, we'll find him.. sooner or later. Preferably sooner."
***
Voices. There were voices at the back of his head, saying words he couldn't quite grasp..
No, one voice, just one voice, just one oddly familiar voice...
Calling him. Just calling him, again and again...
"Sanzo..."
Then there was a new voice, overlaying that one, sounding in his ears, not in his mind...
"Sanzo?"
A new, equally familiar voice, a pleasant voice that oftentimes greeted him after a particularly long and nasty recovery.
Hakkai.
There was no interference of conscious thought -- the impulse raced from receptor directly to effector, bypassing the brain entirely. He lashed out, his bad arm latching onto fabric in front of him as his eyes flickered open, then his left fist collided into flesh with an audible thump as he caught Hakkai in the gut, sending him crashing to the ground even as he rolled to his knees.
His next punch, aimed for the jaw, never connected. Someone caught him and dragged him backwards, an arm around his neck that denied him the air he needed. Gasping, he punched backwards with an elbow, a blow that would have been effective if all the pain from overtaxed injuries hadn't chosen that moment to hit him all at once.
Gods.
The world went crazily gray and red for a few seconds.
When thought returned, there was air again and the ceiling above his head, and voices from outside the range of his vision.
"--Don't know what the fuck he thought he was doing!"
"Surprise, I take it. Reflex reaction. Did you notice that someone else already bandaged his wounds? Someone wants him to live."
Hakkai. And Gojyo. And if what had just transpired was any indication, Gojyo was helping Hakkai out...
His attempt to get up went so far as getting an elbow underneath him before he collapsed back onto the floor, his breathing harsh in his ears. Then there were hands on his shoulders, supporting him, helping him to sit up. "Sanzo," Hakkai's voice sounded in his ear. "It's us."
He wanted to strike out. Wanted badly to turn and grab that bastard by the throat and wring the life out of him, but his muscles didn't seem to be keen on listening to him. And then there was the matter of superior odds...
The gun, the thought occured belatedly. Can take them both out before they even get close.
He went for the gun, summoned enough adrenaline and enough willpower to force himself onto his feet, turning in one move--
--And came up empty handed.
What the... I had it. I swear I had it. I was going to shoot him, it survived, I didn't drop it...
He was staring stupidly at his hands, as if expecting the Smith and Wesson to emerge just by wishing for its presence. Hakkai scrambled to his feet in front of him, a worried expression on his face. Gojyo was a step behind, regarding him with an equally puzzled look.
He looked up, amethyst eyes meeting green, then shifting to meet red, some thought clamoring loudly for his attention at the back of his head. Something about Isir...
"Fine welcome that was, monk," Gojyo snorted. "Can't even say thank you to us for dragged ourselves all the way out here to save you."
Confusion was starting to bubble through him, a whole mishmash of conflicting memories. He blinked, trying to sort them out.
"I mean, we're not asking for much but a 'Thanks' or at least an acknowledgement of our presence would be nice," Gojyo continued, digging in his vest pocket for his stash of Hi-Lites.
Sanzo shook his head, trying to think. There was something, something... what the hell was it?
Hakkai took a step forward. "Are you--"
Sanzo struck, throwing aside whatever it was that was trying to get his attention, ignoring wounds and all, ignoring pain and all.
Hakkai intercepted his punch in midair and caught the other wrist. "What's wrong? It's us! It's me, Goku's somewhere, we lost him along the way..."
Sanzo blinked uncertainly at him. "Goku..." Fuck, but it sounded like his voice had been through a grater as well.
"Goku came with us, but we were separated," Hakkai repeated.
"And if you don't mind, we'd like to go looking for him. Even if you'd like to stay in your nice cozy little cell," Gojyo cut in.
"What the fuck do you mean? Goku's dead! You killed him yourself!"
Hakkai visible eye went wide at that, then narrowed as he frowned. "I see," he murmured to Gojyo. "I understand now." Then louder : "But Isir's outdone himself. The deception ends here." He released his grasp on Sanzo's wrist and the priest tensed, regarding him warily.
"I don't know what Isir did," Hakkai continued. "I don't know what illusion he cast over you. And I don't know what illusions he cast over me, those times. But Goku's alive, and that in itself speaks volumes for everything that's transpired."
Illusions. The word sparked something in his mind and things started falling together, like pieces of a shattered mirror released from a height to rain towards the ground, each piece not quite fitting, but all reflecting the same thing...
Isir. Isir and his twice and thrice blasted katana. A hall, with candles. The gun, clattering across the stone floor. Five bullets. He'd discharged all of them.
He'd shut his eyes somewhere in that torrent of memories, and now that he was there, he just wanted to slid further into the blackness and rest. But what he seemed to remember... wasn't proof in itself. This wasn't a resolution. He had, in equal part, the memory of Hakkai standing over Goku's corpse, the memory of those wide, golden, lifeless eyes, the memory of the limiter falling to the floor with no visible effect. He couldn't distinguish illusion from reality. He just couldn't.
And neither could he afford to run the risk that Hakkai was indeed telling the truth. If he wasn't...
And I'm damned sure he's lying... a voice said to him, obscuring logic for a moment. Goku's dead. Goku's dead and you're just standing there, listening to him? Of course he'd lie. He'd lie and wait for you to turn around and then stab you in the back when you least expect it. So get him. Get him now. You might not be able to take down both of them, but at least you'd get the murdering bastard...
"--That's a stab wound," Hakkai's voice found its way into his consciousness again. "Pretty deep; I'd recommend you don't move around too much. Someone bandaged it, but didn't bother to do more than stop the bleeding."
Stab wound. Ki blast. Ki blast?
Conviction wavered.
"--And Isir still has your sutras. And, from the looks of it, your gun too," Gojyo was saying. "So you coming or not?"
Gun.
"And we're slightly lost," Hakkai again. "We thought... maybe you'd know where Goku is..."
And at that mention, he recalled that voice at the back of his head, and strained to listen.
Sanzo...
Goku.
Sanzo...
Unmistakably Goku.
Sanzo...
And Goku was hurt-needyou-lookingforyou-holdon...
Bakazaru.
Slowly, he opened his eyes. Hakkai and Gojyo were watching him intently, the latter smoking, the glow of his cigarette painfully bright in the near darkness.
He could not shake the feeling that he had when he looked at Hakkai, the odd feeling of intense hatred ... which, when he thought about it, wasn't quite characteristic of himself. Anger was an emotion he was familiar with. Distaste he knew all too well. But hate, fury, loathing... not quite, except in a dry, dispassionate sort of way. Not the kind of feeling that would have him fling everything aside in the careless pursuit of a meaningless revenge.
Dared he trust that he was being manipulated? Dared he trust anything at this point : what others said, he thought he remembered, what he thought he heard...
But as Hakkai had said, there was a way to find out.
Sanzo... the voice in his mind had a sense of growing desperation to it.
Shut up, he snarled back at it. And : I'm coming.
Turning in his heel, he strode out towards the corridor.
***
And somewhere in a hall lit only dimly by corridors, an eighteen year old youth, bleeding from a multitude of gashes, faced his opponent with a sense of increasing desperation. His mind flickered to the image of the man he'd set out to save, as his heartbeat seemed to count out the seconds that were passing, were being wasted, and his opponent's taunts sounded in his ears.
"Should you be taking so long? He might be bleeding to death."
"Urusai!"
"In fact, he probably is. Sword wounds are nasty, messy things, and extremely painful..."
And Goku's thoughts raced in increasingly frantic circles, centering around the one thing that would guarentee his victory in this fight, but which would spell disaster if it were not restored.
The golden limiter that encircled his head.
Do I have a choice? Should I? Should I?
It would be so easy...
***
TBC
