GENSOUMADEN SAIYUKI
Gensoumaden Saiyuki belongs to Minekura Kazuya.
A/U. Four individuals will play key roles in the change that is coming to the Holy Land.
CIRCLES
PART THREE: THREE OF A KIND
It does not take me long to make my purchase – I am running low on ammunition, and there is only one kind that I'm interested in. The bullets that I need, lead infused with simple exorcism spells, are never out of stock, not unless there's been a sudden rash of Sanzos in the area.
Not bloody likely.
The half-breed had been reluctant to follow me in, and I can understand why. I don't care for the store displays myself. Dispatching youkai has always been more trouble than it's worth – an economical kill leaves no mess and wastes no time.
The false power that bloodlust inspires, however, is not something men will give up willingly. There are just so many ways to kill youkai, but ten times more that to draw out the deaths.
The boy stays close, one hand fisted in the folds of my robe. It hinders me somewhat, but I say nothing, the only sound I make a sharp hiss of breath when everything finally relaxes in light and noise past the doors, and I scowl.
Five minutes. Not even five damn minutes and already the idiot has wandered off. I touch the boy's head to still his own movements, and regretfully ponder the shame of using the bullets so soon. It is not the first time the half-breed has blithely disregarded the need for caution, but more so here is it necessary. A town rooted in the obscene lure of the killing grounds is eager to condemn, swift to murder.
I would have sooner avoided the place, but I – my fingers curl slightly in the messy hair – I still have a duty to perform. He hugs my leg in response, drawing some of the tension away when he lets go, and we move into the activity of the street.
The boy shows no indication this time to stray. My hand still rests on his head, and I frown. He keeps his eyes down as we make our way back to the inn on the outskirts of the town. The trials will not begin 'til the late afternoon, to accommodate closing business hours, and it is a good enough place to rest and brood before I have to go about my task.
"Here." It is a hard pitch, and the weight stings for a moment in my palm. The boy turns with a grin, and I roll my eyes when the half-breed reaches again into the paper bag he holds and lightly tosses him another apple.
~~~~
"Peace. Huh." I hear the words but vaguely; the little imp darting through the press of bodies and stalls is easily lost in a moment's distraction.
"Haven't had much of that in a while." My gaze flicks sideways; he is grinning peculiarly. "So, Sanzo Hoshi-sama, how does one find peace?"
Stupid question, to ask of someone who's never had much of his own, so I say nothing.
He shrugs, not really expecting an answer at all. "Peace to guard change," he muses. He slants me another look. "So what's the deal with you?"
~~~~
I have been to the town enough times to know that the grounds' hold is not so overwhelming an influence on the outskirts, the people on the fringes seeking only to earn honest livings. It is almost possible to forget the madness here, to believe in the childish voices joined in song.
The school walls are high, the voices that pass over them disembodied and haunting. The boy pauses, eyes lifted in fascination. And I stop as well, his death grip on my robe allowing me nothing else. It does not take long to grow impatient – such naivete holds no appeal for me.
"Ara." The half-breed kneels by the boy. "Do you like it?" Golden eyes stare back at him solemnly. A boy not a boy, who has no need of the alphabet or numbers, who has seen more age than we ever will.
He pulls at my robe with one hand, the other stretched out as if to catch the song, and I scowl into eyes that mean too much here. Too close to the madness, too close to the music.
He tugs again, and I sigh, dropping the apple I still hold into one small, upturned palm.
~~~~
"Sacrifice?" He smirks, the irony not lost on him. "Nothing new for a priest then. What kind of fun do you get giving up women and alcohol anyway? You only live once.
"Then again," he looks pointedly at the cigarette I hold in one hand, "I didn't think that monks smoked."
I don't bother responding. Not all of us are what we are by our own choice.
"A human monk, a kid youkai and a half-breed traipsing off West looking for Destiny." His snort of derision speaks for the both of us. "Well hell, what do we have to lose?"
~~~~
Insanity. Mad men climbing over each other, crushing their own in their eagerness to come close to the blood. Cowards that don't draw so near that the taint is on them when they walk away after it's over.
Insanity. Watching and despising, believing and chasing a Destiny bigger than such weak minds and cruel spirits.
It hurts my teeth and my head; fucking crowd won't stop shrieking like fishwives. I brush through the rites – I don't want to do them, the youkai don't want them, the mob doesn't need them. Give them all what they want, and everyone's happy.
I am impatient to be leaving in the morning.
It is fitting then, that the half-breed is waiting for me outside the inn when I return, and he confirms my earlier suspicions. "Kid's sick." Right. How the hell does Prophecy fall sick? "He's sleeping at the mo' – nothing too serious. Should be fine after a couple of days' rest." Great. Should have seen it coming.
Flicking the lighter shut I breathe deep, feeling the nicotine cloud in my chest. Not for the first time we share smoke and silence in the fading light.
~~~~
"Can't make your own destiny if you know or have nothing to work with. Sucks that a kid has to do it for you." Our smoke lingers on the air of a pause, before he sighs.
"Sucks worse that you can't do anything to change it. 'Cos it's Destiny, and you can't fight it." And he tilts his cigarette, the words like smoke touching the sky, like ash hitting the ground.
~~~~
"You've been in a bad mood since the morning." Stating the obvious.
"Why do you do it then, if it bothers you so much?" Shit. A mere two-bit gambling womanizer shouldn't be smart enough to pick up on that.
But it takes some wits to make yourself obscure in the swarm, when they could all turn around one day and realise what your red hair and eyes mean.
Can't remember what the first trial was like; they all run into each other after so long. And it doesn't matter anyway. It's the same, no matter how much time passes, and you do your part and ignore the rest, because only hypocrites kick up self-righteous fusses and not do a fucking thing about it.
I suppose I should be bothered about the kind of company I'm keeping these days. Something else about Genjo Sanzo for the monks to mutter over in the corners of Chou An: he smokes, swears, drinks and has youkai tagging after him to boot.
For some of the lesser monks, it's a struggle against one sin or the other; what outrage then, for a priest to embrace all evils at once. And a Sanzo no less, horror of horrors. The kicks you can get out of the smallest things.
The half-breed says nothing more – I suppose he's used to my silences by now. And we linger outside the inn in the gathering dark, smoking and watching and thinking. Eventually he drops his cigarette, killing it beneath the heel of his boot. "I'm gonna check on the kid." And for lack of anything better to do, I follow him inside as well.
I really shouldn't be surprised when we walk into the room to find an empty bed and an open window, and not for the first time, I wonder if Destiny's worth it at all.
~~~~
"What's up with the kid anyway? What's he tagging along for? And since when is Prophecy youkai? Damn stupid joke to play, when he's going to get beat up for it on every street corner." I roll my eyes – the half-breed's been worrying uselessly at the fact for a while now. It's obvious that he has a soft spot for the boy, and they've taken to each other well. And when he sees my expression, he gives me that peculiar grin again. "Had an older brother once – don't know what happened to him." And he says nothing else, and I don't ask.
But the shit I have to put up with – he steals food off the boy's plate, and though he is only getting dark sulks now, it's a full-out squabble waiting to happen. And I call the boy an ape, but not the way that the half-breed does, not until they are scuffling in the dirt and fall behind and I am tempted to smack them both over the heads.
But the boy's smiling more, and I think of the half-breed's brother, and I don't do anything. Not yet, anyway.
~~~~
It would have been looking for the proverbial needle in the haystack, but I am sure. The only light in the sky now is the odd star or two. The streetlamps are on, throwing into stark relief dark crevices and nooks that can easily hide a small ape, but I don't bother to pause and check, because I know where he is heading. The half-breed follows alongside my brisk strides as we trace our way back to the school.
I know he will be there. I distantly wonder why I am so sure, even as I wonder why I bother at all. The half-breed doesn't question it, and his acquiescence makes me wonder again if he feels the strange conviction as well.
But we are saved the trip. About a block to the school building, an indistinct figure emerges from the grey shadows ahead of us, but there is no mistaking the boy that he carries.
"That little idiot." The half-breed's grumble echoes with relief.
"Is he yours?" The stranger is soft-spoken and polite as we draw nearer. "I almost tripped over him on my way out; he was sleeping in front of the school's main doors." There is worry in his voice. "He's running quite a fever; he shouldn't be out at all."
It is still difficult to make the man out; he is wearing spectacles that glint under the streetlamp, and it's not until I stop a bare five meters away that I can see the calm green eyes behind the glass and the pleasant, almost apologetic smile.
Fuck. Last thing I expected. I don't need this right now. But I cannot let this go. I hear the disbelieving sound the half-breed makes behind me when I raise my gun so that it is aimed at the man holding Prophecy.
"Cho Gonou." Understanding and recognition – sorrow – in those green eyes.
"The Gods find you guilty of murder."
It makes sense then, why I've been feeling so edgy. As we stand unmoving amidst the lights and shadows, a soft rain begins to fall.
-TBC-