Note to self : Draw plan before embarking on uber-convoluted fic. The problem is that my original draft never specced a chapter 13...

THE SHADOWS BEYOND -- Part II
CHAPTER 13
Where revelations occur in the night.

"Darkest is the hour before the Dawn."

There was music on the wind.

It floated through the empty window, carried by the clear night air from the common room below. It was a mixture of song and instrumentation -- crude strings and pots and pans, if he was any judge. It was coarse, crude, noisy enough to grate on one's nerves.... nothing admirable. But it was light hearted, rowdy, cheerful to the point of annoyance.

And it was alien to him.

Sanzo stared at the glow of the light cast from windows below. It was a festival of some sort, and the town was bustling with excitement. The rest would be in the midst of the excitement, revelling or drinking themselves silly. Likely, Goku would be stuffing his face.

He shifted minutely on the window seat, wincing at the strain on various wounds. He'd never paid a lot of attention to festivities before; grand wastes of time that they were. In his time at the Temple of the Setting Sun, he'd attended a few, just to humor the crowd, but that had been different. Those had been formal sessions, which he had escaped from the moment propriety allowed. A far, far cry from the hubbub that milled below.

Is this what normalcy is like? he wondered, and his mind struggled with the concept. He'd never know the life of a commoner. Even when he had roamed the streets with beggars, thieves, the scum of society, he'd always been possessed of a purpose, a road to tread, and no time for idleness.

How would it be... to drop all purpose, all direction, all plans; to tarry without the need to be elsewhere, to watch a sunset without the regret the loss of another day... To live, with no ultimate reason for living at all?

The wind brushed against the collar of the loose fitting black shirt that he wore, and an insidious thought began to grow in his mind.

The sutras were gone. He had been forcibly relieved of that burden and that onus. He had tried, failed, nearly lost his life in retrieving them.

Without the sutras, his mission was incompletable. More, without the sutras... regardless of all the trappings of the post, he was not a Sanzo.

The thought intrigued him. It slid in around the haze of pain and medication to compete with the notion of getting them back. Doubtless, the latter would be a long, tedious, and enormously difficult task.

He had never asked for the post. He didn't want it, didn't want the crown, sutras, or even the credit card. He could only conclude that it was Fate's bad taste that had caused him to end up with all of them.

The gods could exact no retribution if he discarded his title and all that it entailed. At the worst, they could kill him -- if the gods killed at all -- and that particular threat held no terror for him whatsoever.

And in so many ways, giving up would be the death of Genjo Sanzo, so nothing is amiss...

His master might have disapproved, but even his master had died, lost the sutras, abandoned his duty to an ill prepared disciple.

I don't have the strength to protect them, he thought bitterly. Like I didn't have the strength to protect you. In their own time and way, the sutras would pass to a new protector a new Sanzo would be appointed. That was the way of it, whether he died in the course of guarding them or otherwise.

It's an enticing prospect, he conceded, leaning back against the wall. And perhaps, just perhaps, something I should consider seriously...

Below, the music played on through the night.

***

In many things... there is Success, and then there is Failure...and in all things, there is Chance, which waylays all good plans...

Isir ran a clawed hand through silvery hair and stared out of the window. In a circular fashion, he wasn't angry at the Sanzo-ikkou's escape. Rather, it gave him a second chance to see them.

Even so, he was, if not angry, then mildly annoyed that he had wrecked a good portion of the fortress for no good reason. He still couldn't fathom how Sanzo had managed to unsummon his demon. Such methods were available to him, as the demon's master, but should have been far beyond the strength of a mere human.

"Some knowledge, perhaps. Lost to us," he murmured on reflection. "I do look forward to wringing it out of him the next time we meet."

Youkai eyesight made out the details of the lands below, even under the cover of a moonless night. There were forests in the distance, the mountains behind, and surrounding the fortress... wasteland. Once upon a time, there had been youkai settlements, clustered around this central symbol of youkai authority, but then the Minus Wave had come. Some of the settlements had been deserted, others wrecked upon human retaliation... none had survived.

He felt a small pang of regret, as a leader might regret the loss of a resource. He served as what passed for a ruler amongst his clan, which, under the conquests and command of his father, had grown to encompass all youkai in the region. Once, they had the might and the numbers to rival that of Tenjiku, but while Tenjiku had been isolated from human aggression, his clan had not.

Majority of the conflicts with the humans had occured in the mountain passes, once extensively occupied by his people. They had reached a deadlock there -- neither side able to break the other's hold. Then, unforeseen and unwanted, the Sanzo-ikkou had passed through, pausing long enough to disrupt the entire balance of power in favor of the human side.

Forced from their mountain strongholds, the surviving youkai had rushed to this last refuge, which, aided by distance and the dense forest, was at least defensible against any human incursion.

Times change, he mused, then chuckled at the thought of him, a youkai leader, using a human cliche. Once, they had been concerned with the expansion of territory and the glory of the clan; once, they had paid no heed to the coming and goings of the humans, focusing rather on the inter-clan rivalry; once, they had thought the humans to be no threat to them. Times had changed, indeed.

Still, they were independent, and if not totally free of the grasp of the power-grubbing fools in Tenjiku, then they at least had their own sovereignty.

Would things have been better without the Minus Wave? he wondered. Now, small consolation, surviving -- sane -- youkai had united. But their numbers dwindled steadily -- youkai children were in short supply, and those that did survive tended to go mad.

As a race... we are probably doomed.

It was not a thought that he relished.

"Isir-sama," a soft voice called from the doorway. Isir nodded without turning, and heard the tread of footsteps across the stone floor. They paused.

"What is it?"

"A messenger, my lord. From Tenjiku. He apologizes for the late hour, but seeks an audience with you regardless."

Ah. It came as a surprise, but a small one. Rumors had been flying around the youkai community of late, something to do with the Sutras of Heaven and Earth, something to do with a travelling party, something to do with the resurrection of Gyuumao. Until recently, he'd not paid them a lot of heed. "Send him in," Isir directed.

"As you command." The servant retreated.

Isir was seated at his desk when the messanger came in, a nondescript common youkai that he did not recognize. They exchanged courtesies, a stiff formality with very little real warmth behind it. By the time they got down to business, the moon was already heading down towards the horizon.

"The Empress wishes to advise you that a certain party is, or will be, passing through this region," the messenger told him. "Their number would be four -- one human priest, one half-youkai, two full youkai. In addition, they would be accompanied by a white dragon, capable of transforming into a Jeep."

"The Sanzo-ikkou. They are already in the region."

"This party, the priest in especial, is wanted by the Empress. In her generosity, she is willing to bestow a large monetary award on the one who delivers the priest -- alive and unharmed -- into her hands."

"I understand. Tell the Empress that I have taken her advisement under consideration, and will endeavor to apprehend the party in question," Isir replied gravely.

"I will relay it directly," the messenger acknowledged.

***

Hakkai rolled over, squinting blearily at the ceiling.

Morning light jabbed into his eyes, stabbing at his brain. He promptly rolled back and buried his head in the pillow.

"Urggggggghhhhhhhh," came a drawn out greeting from the other bed. "Hakkai, just how much did we drink last night?"

"You threw up in my shoes," Hakkai said, not bothering with courtesy.

"I did? Lucky, aren't you?"

"They were my last pair of shoes."

"Get new ones. I'm sure I saw them selling some last night."

The pain in his head was clawing through his skull. Hakkai opted to stuff his head under the pillow entirely. Silence would be nice...

The door slammed open, hard enough to make walls shake.

"HAKKAIiiiiiii," a voice called, and what sounded like ten thousand elephants stampeded across the room to his bedside. "Shall we go for breakfast?" Goku yelled.

"Urusee!" Gojyo flung a pillow at the boy from across the room. "Can't you see we're sleeping?"

Goku evaded the pillow. "Aha! You're drunk! I knew it!"

"We're not drunk, idiot!"

"You're drunk! You're drunk and Hakkai's drunk!" Goku said, dancing around the room as Gojyo hunted for more projectiles. "DRUNK!"

"SHUT UP!"

"Goku, please be quiet," Hakkai beseeched, his eardrums ringing madly in tandem to the hammers pounding on his head.

"Can we go and get breakfast?" Goku pressed, relentless.

"Go and ask the monk, damn you," Gojyo groaned, flopping back onto his head. "And draw the damn curtains!"

At the mention of Sanzo, Goku paused in his antics. "He's sleeping," he replied.

"So were we."

"But he's injured, and he hasn't recovered..."

"For heaven's sake... it's been a few days already. He can at least stand up and walk around by now!"

"I don't think so," Hakkai sighed, abandoning any attempt to sleep. Perhaps his head would stop hurting if he had a large cup of water and an equally large cup of coffee. "Humans take a long time to heal."

"And he's too pig-headed to accept your offers of assistance, I know," Gojyo muttered. "It's his own stupid fault."

"How long do you think we'll be staying here?" Goku asked Hakkai.

"Actually, I have no idea at all. Let me wash up, then let's get breakfast, shall we?" he stood, swaying.

"Don't put on your shoes," Goku pointed out in the nick of time.

"Oh... yes." Hakkai glanced around, then settled for a pair of slippers. "Come on, Goku."

"And draw the damn curtains!" Gojyo yelled at them as they left the room.

*

"Hakkai... do you know what's wrong with Sanzo?" Goku asked.

"Is there something wrong with him?" Hakkai replied, taking a sip from the coffee cup.

"Of course there is! First he doesn't let you near him, then he locks himself in his room for days... I don't know if he's even eating at all..."

"Isn't he just resting?"

"He's not. He's been brooding -- I can see him sitting or standing at the window all day and part of the night. The only time I see him doing that normally is when it's raining."

"I think he's upset about losing the sutras," Hakkai answered. "But frankly, your guess is as good as mine."

"Do you think Isir did something to him? He mentioned something about a spell..."

It was a long time before Hakkai mustered a reply. "Isir... is no ordinary youkai. He's not as physically powerful as some, but he relies heavily on magic and illusion."

"Are you saying that he put an illusion spell on Sanzo?" Goku queried, remarkably quick on the uptake. "To make him ... I don't know, not trust you?"

"When we found him..." Hakkai said softly, "He was firmly convinced that I'd killed you."

"But that's not true! That's obviously not true! I'm... I'm still here, for one."

"I know. But, evidently, it's not easy for him to accept."

"Then he's being silly! I'll go and talk to him--"

"--and dissuade me of my ... silliness?" a familiar voice said.

Goku froze, looking guilty. "San..."

Sanzo stepped towards them, his uneven steps betraying a slight limp. He pulled out a chair and sat. "Have you ordered?"

"We've ordered, but the food hasn't arrived," Hakkai explained. "Service is a little slow after last night." He paused, staring at Sanzo in the eye. The priest met his gaze, unflinching.

"What happened... there... is my concern alone," Sanzo told him, cryptic.

"I believe it concerns me," Hakkai countered, his tone quiet, but brooking no room for objection.

Sanzo called a waitress, requesting coffee.

"I always believed that you were a man of logic, rather than emotion," Hakkai said, when Sanzo showed no sign of continuing the conversation. He was aware of Goku, unconsciously biting his lip and looking entirely uncomfortable, but he was in too deep to back out. For the sake of the group, for the sake of the mission... for the sake of his friendship to Sanzo, he needed answers out of the man.

Sanzo's nails dug into the grainy wooden surface of the table. "We'll discuss this another time."

"We have no time. We've spent weeks in this place already. We're far behind schedule."

When Sanzo looked at him, Hakkai became aware of something... entirely different in those amethyst eyes. Then they narrowed, in the slightest of sardonic smiles.

"Oh, but we have time," Sanzo replied. "We have all the time in the world."

***
TBC
***

*taps fingers gently against the table* You know, I get these awful bouts of jealousy when one of my fics warrants fewer reviews than something that looks like it hasn't even been proofread once, hasn't even been written in proper prose, and ... [removes a few more less-than-pleasant descriptors]. Makes me want to go into a homocidal rage and do something suicidal like eat carrots...

Oh dear, did I just type that out?

January 5, 2003 -- 12:00am.