Chapter 1: The Plot
Three days.
Three days was all the time Homura had given Sanzo and his gang, and those three days were nearly up as the sun set on the last day, descending into night. In the morning, Homura would have no choice but to free the quartet, unless by some miracle at least one of them broke ranks and gave in to the hunger he knew gnawed at them all. Sitting on his throne, eased back in quiet repose, Homura pondered else could possibly tempt them, or rather tempt the one he desired above the others. Son Goku. In a way, he admired their stalwart refusals, having observed them quietly from time to time. No matter how bitterly they complained at one another, there was always a point where they would simply fall silent and find something to occupy their minds, instead.
"It's nearly time, Homura, what will you do?" Shien asked quietly at the base of the throne's dais. His eyes never turned away from the distance, looking out over the vast expanse of the nigh empty throne room without really focusing on anything. "They have managed not to eat anything, yet, no matter how much we tempt them with."
"We can't just let them go," Zenon added, "Surely you had more in mind than just a pointless game to play with them. We have the monk, we can make him give over the Maten."
Homura didn't answer either of them right away, smiling thoughtfully as he shifted in his seat, chin propped up in the palm of his hand. "No," he finally replied, "If they can manage it, we'll let them go. Besides, he isn't strong enough, not yet."
"Son Goku?" Shien asked, though it didn't really come out as a question.
Homura nodded, finally rising from his throne to descend the dais steps. "There is one last possibility. We've spent our energies tempting Goku. Perhaps this last evening, a plan that does not include him might break their collective will."
"You have an idea?" Zenon seemed generally interested, canting his head to the side. Homura looked up and simply smiled.
Goku looked like he was about to fall over. Gold eyes had fallen to half-mast the day previous and he was sluggishly grumpy, lounging around without the energy to argue with anyone anymore. A stale sense of relief settled over the rest of the ikkou. It hadn't been easy to keep the saru from succumbing to the numerous temptations Homura and his flunkies left out, constantly. Hakkai had to keep Goku from racing toward a cart filled with cupcakes. Gojyo had to pin the saru down as he made a desperate bid to escape toward the smell of something meaty down the hall. Sanzo repeatedly threatened him with the banishing gun, just so he wouldn't try to wander off in search of food.
But now that Goku finally seemed to have resigned himself to fasting for three days, it left everyone realizing just how empty their bellies really were. They had nothing to distract them any longer.
But they still took turns guarding Goku in shifts. Homura's strange obsession with the kid obviously focused the ikkou's concerns on him. The saru was far more prone to temptation, too naive and innocent and simply young at times to realize what was best for him and Homura tried to prey on that at any given opportunity. Now it was Gojyo's turn, albeit near the end of his watch. He'd sat there for hours, smoking his cigarettes with careful moderation and watching Goku roll around and moan about his hunger pains. Nothing would distract him from it anymore. No games of cards, or mahjongg or conversation. They'd tried everything to keep busy, and keep Goku busy as well.
But it was the third night. If they made it to morning, they could finally get the hell out of Homura's creepy pagoda and finally get something to eat. And maybe find a few willing women. Gojyo didn't like going without as long as he had, food came secondary to sex in his opinion. Sex and cigarettes, which he used sparingly, considering they weren't able to resupply before Homura ambushed them. There was still half a pack left, and it would be enough to get him through till dawn.
Besides... he had a spare pack he'd quietly stolen from Sanzo.
"So hungry..." Goku moaned as if he were on his last legs and about to croak at any second. Gojyo just sighed and puffed on the cigarette again, lounging back near the window to stare over the rocky, barren terrain that bleakly surrounded the pagoda. Nothing to be said, and nothing left to use as a distraction. Goku was simply unconsolable at this point.
Thankfully, Hakkai's timing was as impeccable as ever, emerging from his sleeping chamber dressed and smiling as always. "Well, good morning. How's our Goku doing?"
"Hakkai, it's night. And Goku's the same as he was earlier."
"Ah, I see," the swindler replied, leaning over the saru momentarily to wave a hand in front of his face. "And apparently he's finally fallen asleep. Looks like my guard duty is going to be light."
"Must be nice." Gojyo rose from his perch, crushing the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray that nearly brimmed with the butts of his and Sanzo's previous endeavors to develop lung cancer. He stretched languidly, yawning as Hakkai fetched himself a book and settled near the fireplace. His would be an easy watch, it seemed. No listening to Goku's literal bellyaching. "Sanzo still asleep?"
"Said not to wake him till morning, on pain of death," Hakkai offered cheerfully.
"You are way too happy, Hakkai."
"Good night, Gojyo."
Gojyo took the dismissal gratefully and headed into the large room afforded to them as a sleeping chamber. It was sectioned off into four little mini-rooms, interconnected by open doorways that could not be closed. Sanzo was likely in the last of them, farthest away from the door to the parlor and any noises that might get past. So that meant Gojyo took the directly opposite room, furthest away from Sanzo. Stripping down to just his boxers, he slide beneath the sheets, finding the bed warm and welcoming and downright comfortable. It'd be the one thing he'd miss when they finally left in the morning. Homura was an ass, but he at least made sure they were comfortable. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
Or was he?
Light woke him from what he felt was a sound sleep, a brief flash, like the reflection a sword might make when passed over a flame. Drowsily, he lifted his head, nostrils filled with the scent of incense. Sandalwood, he thought, something earthy. Was Sanzo awake and burning something? Too groggy to assess the situation properly, it didn't occur to him immediately that he was not alone. Not until the weight of a man pressed against the edge of the bed.
"Hello, Gojyo." The voice belonged to Homura. "I'm so sorry to wake you, but I had something to offer you."
"The monkey's in the parlor and Hakkai won't let you tempt him," Gojyo replied blearily. For some reason, his eyelids just wanted to close again, no matter how urgent his mind tried to convince him the situation was. Whatever Homura was doing here, it couldn't have been anything good.
"It's not Goku I wanted to speak with. Just you," Homura replied with a quiet confidence. "I brought you something. If you'll be kind enough to take it."
Gojyo found his hand emerging from beneath the covers, palm upraised as Homura set something vaguely cool and round there. He felt it instinctively with his fingers and brought it closer to his face to get a better look at it. "Fruit? You think I'm going to eat this so you can keep me here? Sorry, but you're not a beautiful woman and you've kept me away from them long enough in this place." Finding himself more awake, he finally sat up, though the surreality of the situation never abated. It was as if he were walking in a dream, and the coherency was set to nil.
"Watch your head," Homura warned, but before Gojyo could even process it, a gust of air breathed his bangs over his forehead, the sharp end of a sword coming close enough to sever some of the dark red strands and let them drift to the sheets.
Gojyo blinked, and then realized he was holding only the top half of the fruit, it's pungent aroma marking it clearly as a pomegranate, as well as the dark red-violet stain that oozed from the broken seeds. The juice flowed along the edges, down his fingers and then his arm with sticky sweet-tartness. It was cool, and yet mimicked the color of blood, making him wonder if Homura hadn't cut something in the process. His stomach reflexively rumbled at the scent, completely blocking out the faint smell of sandalwood incense.
The seeds glistened brightly amongst the flesh of the pomegranate, beckoning Gojyo to partake of their tempting delights. He nearly did so, staring at the dark stain that ran down his arm with the urge to lick it off his skin. It was Homura's presence that distracted him, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "Isn't this cheating?"
"Not if you eat of your own free will, no," the god replied. "Besides, didn't you know this is all a dream? You can have as much as you want in your dreams, even if it means you wake up still hungry."
A dream? What kind of dream simply announced itself? Homura reached out to take the pomegranate half still clutched in Gojyo's hand, sinking onto the bed at the same time, in one graceful motion. "Hasn't it been lonely here, Gojyo? Won't you be so glad to leave in the morning?" He took the half-youkai's hand in his, pulling it closer to his lips to press them against the juice stained fingers, a tongue darting out seductively to suckle them one by one. "And you shouldn't let such lovely fruit go to waste."