:: Perfect World ::

Gensomaden Saiyuki

Disclaimer: I don't own Gensomaden Saiyuki, which rightfully belongs to Minekura Kazuya.

Rating: R

Pairings: Homura/Rinrei, Homura/Goku, Goku/Homura

Warnings: AU-ish, angst, mild shounen ai, strong language

Beta-read by: Iapetus

Notes: The rating has officially been upped to "R."

As always, thanks for the many reviews, especially in the last chapter. I'm proud to say that this is my first (non-smutty) Homura/Goku fic to reach over 30 reviews. Thanks everyone!

And this time, a special thanks to giulia for letting me know that PW is appreciated in non-English speaking communities as well. :D (That, and you unintentionally amused me when I misread "take the hints" as "take the pants.")

Constructive criticism and feedback (as you people have been giving) are appreciated.


Chapter Six

For some reason Zenon found himself cleaning his gun around dusk. The sun was nearly entirely gone, leaving only firelight from the campfire and the cold moonlight. He narrowed his eye at the gun in his hands, silently berating himself for not doing this in daylight when he could better see what he was doing. Well, better now than not at all. Tomorrow he planned to give a certain heretic a good run-through in survival training, and to do that his gun always had to be in good shape.

The barest of presences caused him to glance up. He snorted softly. Speaking of certain heretics...

"Isn't it way past your bedtime," he sneered a bit, his gaze sliding back to his weapon of choice. He inwardly smirked at the look Goku threw him, catching it from the corner of his eye.

"Very funny," Goku grumbled, sitting down beside him. The boy picked up a long stick, poking at the fire. Zenon grunted in reply, not really having anything to say to that.

The kid was all right. He'd taken some getting used to, and he still didn't think the boy quite belonged, but he was all right. Zenon could think of several worse people, though his opinion had been quite different three years ago...

"Zenon?"

That tone was only too familiar. He didn't bother hiding his exasperated sigh; still he didn't pause in his work. "Okay, what dirty secret are you trying to dig up on Homura this time?"

"I don't dig up his dirty secrets," Goku said indignantly.

"Asking about his past is pretty much the same thing," Zenon pointed out, scoffing. "Why the hell don't you ask him directly?"

"Homura never tells me anything," Goku mumbled.

"Huh. Ever thought that maybe he had a good reason?"

Goku chose not to answer that, much to Zenon's amusement and annoyance. "It's not about his past this time... I just wanted to know..." The boy's voice trailed off; he fidgeted a bit. Zenon shot a sideways glance at him, twitching slightly as the kid took his damn sweet time trying to get the words out. "I mean... I know he's looking for a woman and all, and--"

"Digging up his past again," Zenon muttered, just barely audible enough for Goku to hear.

"I am not!" He waited for Goku to try to organize his thoughts, getting even more exasperated as the seconds went into minutes. At least the kid didn't get on his nerves as much as he used to; that had made everything pretty tense, and he still wasn't sure if Homura had forgiven him for getting Goku lost like that the one time.

Though it was really his fault for not paying attention, he thought cynically. He was too absent-minded... damn idiot sometimes still is. The silent insults weren't entirely venomous...

"Does Homura like girls?"

Zenon blinked, not certain he heard that right. He shot Goku a skeptical look, staring a moment before he asked, "Why the hell does it matter?" When all Goku did was shrug he rolled his eye, resisting the urge to thwap the boy on the head. "He's been with one. That's all I know and more than I needed to know."

"But he's your friend..." Goku trailed off uncertainly.

"Yeah, but I'm not poking around in his sexual life just because I can," Zenon said acidly. "I really don't give a damn, and whatever I do know about the one woman is none of your business."

Goku sighed, resting his chin on his arms as golden eyes fixated on the fire. "I guess," he mumbled, poking idly at the burning wood. Zenon went back to his earlier task. By the time he was finished the sun had slipped over the horizon and all that lit and warmed them was the slowly dying fire.

The next question wasn't as startling as the last. "Is... Homura mad at me?"

"About what?" Zenon drawled, growing bored. Honestly, he was up to keep watch, not to be some go-between two hormonal males. "Your brutally murdering that last demon -- which, by the way, I thought the disgusting bastard only deserved -- or your annoying antics at the last village?"

He saw the boy rub the back of his head, looking both annoyed and sheepish. "The last one," he muttered in a barely audible voice.

Zenon glanced to where Homura was lying; when the man didn't move, he turned his gaze back to Goku, shrugging nonchalantly. "Who knows? Why don't you ask him yourself?" Goku turned his head away at that, a small frown on his lips. Zenon made a rude noise, resuming in cleaning his gun.

Finally he put his hand on the back of Goku's head, giving him a none-too-light shove. "Hey. Go to sleep, dammit. I'm the one on watch for the first part of tonight, you little brat."

"Not a brat," Goku said crossly, but he got up anyway, waving vaguely to the man before stumbling back to his sleeping area. Homura and Shien were supposedly asleep, though Zenon knew better. When he looked over the opposite way Goku had gone he caught a single gold eye gleaming in the firelight.

Kid's already got something, and you know it. He didn't say the words aloud though, simply gave Homura a knowing smirk before searching for his lighter and cigarettes. His peripheral vision caught the man smirking back, though Homura didn't seem quite as amused as he did.

Damn, Zenon thought ruefully, taking a calming drag of nicotine. Kid's gonna make the next week or so hell; I can feel the sexual tension already...

------

"That fucking brat!"

The explosion came as a start; despite his brash attitude, Zenon wasn't the type to have random outbursts like that. Homura glanced up; arching an eyebrow as the fuming god came storming out of the woods where he was supposed to be giving Goku a lesson.

"Something wrong?" he inquired, unsure whether or not to be amused.

"Yeah," Zenon snarled, his visible knuckles white from gripping the machine gun on his shoulder too tight. "That fucking brat ran off!"

Homura's eyes narrowed a bit. "Define 'run off,' " he said quietly. "Do you mean he ran away from you or just disappeared in the middle of the lesson?"

The words only served to annoy Zenon more, but the man was smart enough not to snap at Homura for it. "He might as well have," he said. "Damn kid was there, and I fuckin' told him not to wander too far off until I gave him further instructions. So what does the moron do? Run right off! When I get my hands on that kid," Zenon muttered, seething and storming past Homura, into the woods on the other side of their campsite. They had chosen to make camp in a clearing in the middle of the woods, mostly because it was the ideal place to train the boy.

Sighing, Homura shook his head. There was no cause for alarm yet, and nothing really felt out of place. It was likely the boy was just being his usual mischievous self... and really, how was Homura supposed to get angry with that? It was something he liked about Goku.

He checked the sky, determining he had enough time between now and lunch to get some of his own training done. Homura stood, making his way through the woods in search of another clearing. Bigger or smaller, it didn't matter either way. He just needed a different area to practice in.

As the God of War he had to hone certain skills. One 'gift' the heavens had given him was a sword similar to that of the previous war god's, Nataku. This one was considerably larger, made for his size, and had been enhanced a bit. Homura knew a trick or two, enough to turn an ordinary lethal sword into an unordinary, twice as lethal fire sword.

Homura removed his cape as he walked, folding it over his arm. His gaze wandered as he idly searched for the ideal place to practice. He had nearly perfected the art of his sword and then some, but he refused to let his techniques falter because he didn't exercise his skills often enough. They had to be perfect, had to be exact. Homura was by no means a ruthless killer, and he wanted to avoid killing if he could. He knew how to deliver a fatal blow, but also gave his adversaries a chance to live, sometimes even a second chance. Perhaps honor was something a god of war shouldn't have had, but Homura had never asked for the title.

He came across an empty area soon enough. Homura paused long enough to listen for animals. There were a few birds that fluttered past, but nothing dangerously close. He then called forth his weapon, drawing it from the hidden pocket of space. There was honestly no other way to describe it. Homura didn't know exactly where his sword disappeared to, he simply knew that when he called for it, it materialized in his hand. When he willed it away, it faded out into nonexistence. By now it was a trick he could do as easily as breathing, but mastering it hadn't been easy.

Though, impressively enough, Goku had caught on easily when Homura had taught it to him.

Homura draped his cloak over a low-hanging branch before walking a fair distance away from it. He grasped the hilt of the sword, falling into a stance. He rarely took on the same pose when he was preparing to attack something. Homura preferred to have no set pattern, to always set his opponent off their guard at least a little. Many times he wouldn't even take a stance; he'd simply stand there, smirking and waiting to be attacked-- or, if the wait grew to be too long, to attack on his own.

He swung the blade once with both arms, then let go and swung with his left. He quickly switched hands, swinging through the air with his right hand. The first and third time he'd made absolutely no sounds, but the second time he could hear the sword swish through the air. Work on that, he decided, switching hands again. This time he swung several times in succession, working on making the sound absolutely silent.

There was no real reason for it, as he never assassinated and this didn't have to be silent, but Homura still wanted to assure himself that he could do it. It gave him confidence, a thing he was meticulously careful to never over- or underestimate about himself-- or anyone else. Shien, for example, was also meticulously careful about it, but would occasionally underestimate himself when the guilt he felt got to him too much. Zenon, on the other hand, would occasionally overestimate himself, though the last time that had happened had been a long time ago, and had been over something rather personal to the man.

Still, over- or underestimating could always prove to be a fatal mistake. Homura didn't intend to die until he was ready.

That was why he wanted to make his perfect world.

Homura paused, realizing that he had stopped his training at some point. He shook his head, pushing aside any unnecessary thought before beginning again. The sword made no sound, and he moved on through the basic moves he knew as well as the back of his hand. After that he went through more complicated maneuvers, many of them ridiculous moves he would never use in real combat. Nevertheless, there was always the off-chance it would come in handy, and he didn't intend that off-chance to catch him by surprise.

He wanted to create his perfect world for purely selfish reasons. The simplest explanation was that he wanted to overthrow the heavens. Nearly everyone up there was an incompetent fool, and most who weren't were either inactive or had been reincarnated. All the other gods were obsessed with power, using it to their advantage to get what they wanted.

And yet, ironically enough, it was the gods forced to reincarnate that had been the happiest. Like Kenren Taishou, Tenpou Gensui, Konzen Douji...

And one other.

Homura immediately shoved that thought aside; that would only ruin his concentration. He focused on his moves again, but once again found his thoughts slipping back to the reasons he wanted his perfect world-- among other things, such as what was needed for him to make it.

He needed three things if he was to make this world, two of which he doubted would be difficult to obtain. All he had to do was give as fair a fight as he could (being the war god and infinitely stronger than both average humans and demons, very few fights could be called fair) and they would be his. They were the Seiten and Maten scriptures, the founding heavenly scriptures of heaven and earth. One to banish the darkness, one to create light.

The third thing he needed was an abundant supply of power-- and that he'd glimpsed in heaven, and now practically held in his hands.

Homura needed Seiten Taisei's power.

It was almost by pure chance he'd even seen the power in the first place. It had been during a festival in heaven, only a little over five hundred years ago. A fight had broken out-- why exactly Homura wasn't sure, but he was able to see that Goku had been the one to start the physical blows. Whatever the case, whatever the reason, Homura didn't care because it had given him a decent display of Son Goku's raw, undiluted power.

Power that, Homura realized later on, would help him immensely in his cause.

There were several drawbacks, of course, and the biggest one was the betrayal factor. Technically it wasn't betrayal at all. Homura had never promised to stay with the boy forever, and the deal he'd made with Goku was that Homura would free him if Goku would help him in his cause any way he could.

Still, technicalities wouldn't smooth things over. It was the only thing that made Homura dread the day he was preparing so hard for. Once you lost Son Goku's trust it was nearly impossible to get it back. To do that you had to be his Sun.

Homura wasn't the boy's Sun.

The sun was setting into evening by the time Homura was satisfied he had practiced enough. He let his sword fade back to the hidden space it had come from before going to collect his cloak. He had to pause; a couple of small chipmunks had nestled comfortably on the fabric, chittering softly to each other. Homura watched for a moment, mildly amused, before giving one a nudge with his finger. It started, gave him a look, and then made a louder chittering noise to its companion before they rocketed off into the tree. Shaking his head, Homura pulled his cloak off the branch, unfolded it, and swept it over his shoulders before heading back to camp.

A camp, he was surprised to see, that still had no Goku. There was the ever-calm appearance of Shien and the obviously irked presence of Zenon, but no Goku.

"Didn't find him?" he asked casually, taking a seat.

Zenon muttered a foul curse. "No," he practically spat. "I was all over the damn forest and the bastard couldn't be found anywhere."

"So he has made some use of what I've taught him," Shien said quietly, his voice portraying none of the mild surprise Homura instinctively knew the man felt. He smirked a bit, eyes flickering back to the woods.

"Well, he'll come back when he's hungry," he said calmly. Homura stood again, but paused when Zenon spoke in a suddenly grim tone.

"And if he doesn't?"

Homura said nothing at first. He stared down at the fire for a moment, a fire that was normally only started because Goku would complain of the cold. As gods, he, Shien, and Zenon didn't have an issue with things such as weather, but Goku wasn't a god. He never was. He was merely heretical, which in a sense made him only human.

At last, he said calmly, "If he doesn't, we'll simply find him when we need to use him."

Zenon made a rude noise of disbelief and seemed ready to make a smart remark, but his silence told Homura that Shien had given him one of those silencing looks again.

"Understood," was Shien's answer for both of them.

Homura turned back, moving to the fire and rolling a stone onto it. The flames went down almost immediately, and with another two stones they all but died.

"He can find his way back in the dark," he said quietly. "Regardless whether he's back by morning or not, we move on."

Homura knew he had unconsciously chosen his words carefully. He hadn't said he may look for the boy on his own time, or said whether or not they'd be moving on with their plans or merely moving on to find Son Goku again. Quite honestly, he wasn't sure either.

Being unsure of himself was one thing Homura truly couldn't stand.

------

It was well into the night when Homura found himself waking for no reason whatsoever. None of them were on watch; there was no point if Son Goku wasn't there, because the boy was really the only reason they were on watch in the first place. Goku was more than capable of taking care of himself, yes, but he was still vital to Homura's plans. They couldn't afford any setbacks, and silent assassination was definitely considered a setback.

He remained quiet for a few moments before he heard evidence that his waking hadn't been entirely by accident. There was a faint rustling that sounded suspiciously similar to a human-like footstep. Homura didn't move, hardly even changed his breathing pattern. He even kept his eyes closed, waiting...

Then there was a soft, barely audible sigh, and then the sound of someone kneeling down. Grass rustled just in front of Homura. The man tilted his head slightly, finally opening his eyes. He watched for a reaction, but the intruder didn't seem to be looking at him. Finally he sat up, and the intruder's head shot up in surprise.

"Good evening," he said calmly, quietly. "Or rather, morning. I do believe that's the sun I see rising."

Goku gave him a faint smile that looked unusually pained. "I'll bet," the boy said, his voice slightly hoarse. "Been walking all night..."

"And where have your journeys taken you, Son Goku?"

The boy shook his head, lowering his gaze again. Homura heard slight muffled noises, saw the boy's shoulders shaking. Goku wasn't crying, but he was obviously tired and not entirely emotionally stable. The boy probably hadn't slept since the night before.

"Back to the village."

The answer came as a bit of a surprise. "What was waiting for you there?"

"Nothing," Goku admitted, shifting so he could draw his knees up to his chest. "I went back... to ask some things." Homura frowned slightly, not sure he understood. As though sensing his confusion, Goku added, "I wanted to make sure you didn't miss out on a single lead. I don't know who or what you're looking for, but... I tried anyway."

Helping me search... for her resting place, Homura realized. Goku had skipped his lesson just to go back to do that?

"Not a single lead," the boy muttered, resting his forehead on his arms. "How can you stand that? We probably go from village to village, and you hardly ever find anything... how can you stand that?" His voice was beginning to crack a bit.

Homura shook his head, resting a hand on Goku's shoulder. "You should rest," he said gently. "We'll skip today's lesson. Just rest."

Goku didn't seem to be listening. "I had to make up for being a brat last time... I couldn't." He leaned against the man then, slight tremors shaking his body, but still no tears came forth. "I'm sorry, Homura..."

Admittedly unsure of what to do right away, Homura simply let the boy lean against him. He found himself rubbing Goku's back, the gesture meant to calm. It seemed effective; the tremors died down and Goku's rigid body gradually went lax. Soon enough he had fallen asleep, which came as a relief to the half-heretic.

Once he was positive the boy wasn't going to stir, Homura shifted Goku off him. He scooted away from his makeshift bed, lying the boy down. Goku murmured softly, curling up as though in attempt to warm himself. Homura couldn't help but smile faintly at the sight. He pulled a blanket over the boy, then stood and moved to start the fire again.

Come morning he knew what would happen. Shien would be exasperated but keep it to himself, only expressing his feelings through carefully chosen words and a few glances. Zenon would berate the boy, definitely get into a fight with him, and Homura would end up chuckling over their antics.

He also knew that Goku would be embarrassed by his display of emotion and probably avoid him a bit, but Homura was familiar enough with that to know how to deal with it. Make a few off-handed remarks, act as though he hadn't seen a thing, and the boy would be back to himself in no time.

However, Homura wasn't so sure things could go back to normal, not after that display. He was sure, more than ever now, that Son Goku's feelings toward him were growing to be anything but platonic. He was also less sure, more than ever, about his own decision to keep things strictly ideal.

Never let it be said that a heretic's supposed luck ever caused anything less than chaos.