:: Perfect World ::

Gensomaden Saiyuki

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

Rating: PG

Pairings: Gojyo/Hakkai

Beta-read by: Iapetus

Warnings: AU-ish, angst, language

Notes: My apologies for the chapter being a day late. My beta-reader's been busy, so I've been making sure she only did this on her own time. Much luff to her for getting this done anyway.

Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated.


Chapter Seven

The ride in the jeep was almost deathly silent. The atmosphere was tense, but he'd come to expect that when the three of them were together. Sighing heavily, Gojyo shifted in the backseat, absolutely bored beyond all reason.

And their driver was in such a foul mood that he would probably bury a bullet in Gojyo's skull should he even accidentally set him off. In some ways, Gojyo couldn't blame him. It wasn't every day someone from your past came back to haunt you, and it certainly wasn't every day that you discovered someone you used to consider your friend was now someone you couldn't hope to trust.

It most likely didn't ease Sanzo's conscience at all when he'd shot Rikudo dead between the eyes. All in all, the encounter had been brief but chilling. Gojyo had the disturbing feeling that things should have been different, that they shouldn't have ended so quickly or so easily.

It shouldn't have ended in such cold-blooded murder.

Sometimes Gojyo felt the entire trip was off. One of their first stops had been at a town about a week from Chang'an called Kouchin. There they'd chanced across a girl named Houmei, and there the first real attempted assassination had occurred. Houmei, like most humans nowadays, hated demons for what they had become after the Minus Waves had rolled over the area.

That incident hadn't ended too well; the spider-woman attempting to assassinate them had been a bit of a hassle to defeat, what with Gojyo having to both distract and go in for the kill while Sanzo chanted the movement-binding scriptures and Hakkai protected Houmei and her father. When they had left Houmei still seemed to have a bitter opinion about demons, regardless that two had helped to save her life. Sanzo's response to that was that she simply wasn't worth it.

For a while things had seemed to get a bit tenser. Despite Sanzo's words, Houmei's bitterness toward them seemed to have left its mark, and even Sanzo was affected. It was easy to tell by the shortening of his already worn temper, and Hakkai said he could tell by the number of cigarettes he smelled Sanzo smoking.

Things would get even worse when they had to travel over landscape too rocky for Hakuryuu -- Hakkai's pet dragon that could conveniently turn into a jeep -- couldn't drive on. During those times there was the issue of baggage to worry about. Asking Hakkai was out of the question for two reasons. The first was that he was blind, and still adjusting to moving around without sight, and adjusting yet again to his strange ability to "see" solid things. The second was that Hakkai was simply the sort of person you didn't ask to do work. If he wanted to do it, he would; if not, he wouldn't, and if you dared ask him you may not live to regret it.

So that would leave Sanzo and Gojyo to get into arguments that Hakkai would always smooth over (though each time the "smoothing over" seemed to become more and more strained). In the end one or the other would end up with the indignity and if it was Sanzo, Gojyo had the admittedly stupid tendency to poke fun at the man. He couldn't help it, really. Gojyo was bored; he had to tease someone, make use of the smart-ass remarks that seemed to come to him at random. However, there was that aura around Hakkai that told you it would be suicidal to even try it. At least with Sanzo it was only mortally wounding.

Gojyo shifted restlessly, glancing out the side of the jeep as he tried to distract himself again. The smart-ass remarks were building up again, and if he didn't divert his thoughts he knew he'd more than likely end up sporting a nice scar compliments of a certain trigger-happy priest's gun.

But what was there to think about? There had been a temple they'd come across once when in need of lodgings, but the pretentious assholes there couldn't have people like them marring their precious grounds. They had ended up camping out a little ways out, and in the middle of the night had been attacked by another assassin. In a sore mood because of the rocky camp-out, none of the three had been in the mood for playful banter and had gone right at him.

In the end, Sanzo had attempted to interrogate the assassin about his leader (who, from what Gojyo had been able to gather at the time, was a demon prince by the name of Kougaiji) but the interrogation had ended in the self-destruction of their adversary.

Considering that explosion had taken out a good deal of supplies, even Hakkai was in a bad mood by morning.

The trip had been uneventful for a while after that. Gojyo had spotted a few girls, naturally, and there had been a particularly attractive one at a river they had passed shortly after the second assassination incident. However, he never really seemed to have any time to flirt, have fun, and basically just relieve some sexual tension-- not to mention normal mental and emotional tension, which Sanzo was so keen on causing him.

Then they had met Kougaiji.

Gojyo had never really expected such a cute waitress to attack them, but she had apparently been a demon working directly beneath Kougaiji. Her tactics, when the party had learned of them, had been clever. She was going to poison their food, which would kill both demons and humans effectively. However, she didn't seem to have counted on the idiots at the bar picking a fight -- a big mistake on their part -- much less for them to take them up on the fight.

Gojyo had blacked out at some point, later learning from Hakkai that she'd used a potion to put them to sleep. When he'd woken up Hakkai had been fighting the waitress outside, and her failed attempts to kill them had nearly driven her to suicide. Luckily for her, she'd been saved by her leader: Kougaiji.

That had ended shortly; Kougaiji had simply and tersely explained he was there for his subordinate, nothing else. With some mild banter on his and Sanzo's part, he and the waitress had finally left, and that was the end of that-- for now.

And about five days after that they had met -- and in Sanzo's case, was reunited with -- Rikudo. Now they were on their way west again, and the tension thrummed so thick Gojyo could easily bite into it. It tasted bitter and sour.

He shifted his leg, feeling agitated. There was so much damn room in the back seat. He supposed he shouldn't have been complaining, but it was just too damn quiet, too damn spacious, and too damn tense. It would probably drive him mad soon-- probably drive them all mad. Hakkai wouldn't be excluded; in fact, he would quite possibly be the first to go. While Gojyo trusted the man, he also knew that Hakkai was a lot more emotionally fragile then either of his other companions.

Unless there was something he didn't know about Sanzo, that is. And knowing what he did about Sanzo, there probably was more than just one thing Gojyo was missing out on.

Not that he cared about that asshole, either way.

"What we need," he said suddenly, unthinkingly, "is a punching bag. A living, breathing punching bag to beat the shit out of when we're stressed."

At first he thought Sanzo might very well shoot him, but Hakkai's thoughtful response surprised him. "Well, that's one way to put it, though I'm sure I wouldn't need one."

"Well, the monk and I could use him," Gojyo said easily. "And you can be the loving mother and take him under your wing."

Sanzo snorted, sounding exasperated when he spoke. "You sound so damn sure it would be a man."

"Not a man, a boy," Gojyo corrected. Yes, he had it in his mind's eye already. "Like hell I'd use a girl for a punching bag, no matter how much of a bitch she was. I'm not Sanzo." He didn't have to see the monk's face to know he was twitching.

The drive lapsed into silence, though for some reason it felt a bit lighter. When there was conversation again it was, amazingly enough, initiated by Sanzo.

"An idiot," the man said suddenly, not once taking his eyes off the road. "Knowing our luck, he'd be a complete moron."

"Especially after we beat him," Gojyo agreed.

Hakkai chuckled softly. "Knowing you two, I probably would end up being the one to take his side, simply because you two will keep picking on him."

"Nah; you're a fair parent," Gojyo said with a wave of his hand. "You'd take whoever's side was most just."

"Is that so?"

"Yup."

The silence returned again, once again more comfortable than the previous. Gojyo found himself smirking faintly; perhaps that really was what they needed. The mere thought had lightened the mood; what would the real thing do?

He frowned a bit, swerving to lie down across the back of the jeep, crossing his legs at the ankles and dangling his feet over one side. "Pity we don't have him, eh?"

From that point on, Sanzo's mood only worsened yet again.

------

He was careful to take the scriptures off first, but once they were gently set aside Sanzo didn't care about the rest of his attire. He practically tore his robes trying to get them off, grunting in frustration as he tossed the resulting ball of cloth in the corner of the room. It hit the floor with a soft thud, but didn't do one bit to ease his mood.

Idiot just had to say something, didn't he? Sanzo thought irritably, kicking his sandals off before he lay down on the bed. Damn idiot just had to open his mouth.

He was in a bad mood, to put it lightly, and he had no doubt that even strangers knew it just by looking at him. It had been so easy to pull the trigger and kill Shuuei—so easy. It had been too damn easy. It unsettled Sanzo. It was like he had no conscience. It was one thing to kill a demon after your life, but an old friend after someone else's life…

Why had it been so damn easy to shoot him? Sanzo didn't regret it, he was simply disturbed at how short and simple it had been. Shuuei had used the Curse of Araya, a forbidden talisman that had ultimately eaten away at the man's body and soul until there was nothing left of Shuuei but an empty, demon-murdering shell named Rikudo.

Perhaps it most unsettled Sanzo because he had intervened on the fight. Rikudo had moved to attack Hakkai, and while normally Sanzo would leave the other two to their own devices, curiosity had forced him to step in and block the attack, demanding to know what had happened to Shuuei.

"Oh, I haven't changed. Shuuei is dead. He died seven years ago. That day you'd left the temple!"

There Sanzo had learned that the very night he'd descended mountain of the Kinzan temple the demons that had killed his master had returned for the scripture they had missed—the scripture that had, coincidentally, been given to Sanzo the very night of his master's death.

He knew very well that even if he had stayed there wouldn't have been a thing he could have done about the attack. In fact, the situation would have worsened. The demons would have killed him and taken the scriptures, quite possibly before Shuuei could use the Curse of Araya and kill them.

All this Sanzo already knew. His past wasn't what was bothering him at the moment. It was Gojyo's strange choice of conversation in the jeep that afternoon that was bothering him.

Part of the reason was because just about everything the man had said actually sounded good. You couldn't use Hakkai for a verbal punching bag; that would end in your death. Arguing with Gojyo only left him feeling even more frustrated. But if there were a younger person, a boy who wouldn't let biting remarks get to him so easily…

There was something else they were lacking. It wasn't a peacemaker; Hakkai played that part the best he could, even though it was clearly becoming more and more difficult. It wasn't really the punching bag either. There was just a sense of something missing; the absence of an important presence. Sanzo wasn't entirely certain what that presence had to be, but he had the strange feeling that if he ever encountered it he would know instinctively.

Damn it, Gojyo, he thought in annoyance, sitting on the edge of the bed and slipping out of his sandals. Your idiocy is rubbing off on me.

It was pointless to ponder on the issue any further. Sanzo touched the knob of the gas lamp, turning it off with a flick of the wrist. The room was then doused in darkness.

It wasn't until his head touched the pillow that the voice filtered into his thoughts again.

------

"What made you bring that up earlier?"

Gojyo blinked, roused from his bored stupor as Hakkai spoke. The man was sitting on his bed, back resting against the wall, his face turned toward his companion. As always, his eyes were unfocused and unseeing. "Pardon?" the half-breed asked, not sure he understood.

"When you mentioned your 'living, breathing punching bag,' " Hakkai reminded him patiently. "What brought that up?"

Gojyo shrugged, leaning his elbow against the windowpane. He shifted on his own bed, trying to find a comfortable position to relax in to. "Dunno. Been thinkin' about it a while, I guess," he said casually, narrowing his eyes. "Why?"

"Just wondered," Hakkai murmured, though his expression said otherwise.

"If you could play poker, your face would suck," Gojyo said flatly.

Hakkai smiled faintly. "I actually used to be a very apt player."

Gojyo grimaced, remembering the few short weeks before Sanzo had come looking for Cho Gonou. "Don't remind me; I remember."

"That is what we need though, isn't it?" Hakkai mused. "I'm sure you've noticed it; Sanzo too. That we're missing something vital-- someone."

"Like we're destined to meet some special princess that will magically make our already screwed up group holy and complete," Gojyo said sarcastically. "Oh yeah. I know what you mean. But usually I can solve that issue by getting laid."

Hakkai didn't have to see to give Gojyo a piercing look; he did that just fine with the slight drawing down of his eyebrows and a small frown on his lips. "I'm serious, Gojyo."

The other man shrugged, glancing out the window. It was already nightfall, not really too late for him to go on a nightly conquest, but he somehow wasn't in the mood that night. He tapped the windowsill lightly, thrumming his fingers on it before finally speaking. "Not much we can do about it. We don't even know what to look for."

"Hm..." Hakkai grew quiet a moment. "I suppose we can only wait, then."

"Guess so," Gojyo agreed, though he knew neither of them were too optimistic about finding this mysterious presence they were lacking. Too much shit had happened in their lives to give them that sort of optimism. And thinking on it any more would only make it result in disappointment in the end.

It was time for a distraction.

He stood up. "Wait here; I have an idea," he said, striding for the door before Hakkai could comment. He moved briskly down the hallway, seeking out the innkeeper. After a brief conversation (and some flirting with his daughter) Gojyo went back to the room, his arms full. He had to kick the door and call for Hakkai to open it.

Hakkai couldn't see what he was holding, but seemed to sense Gojyo was had something. "What is that?" he asked curiously, cautiously taking his seat on the bed again.

"Be patient," Gojyo muttered, taking his time setting it up. Once he was satisfied he turned on the contraption, set the needle on the disc, and soft music floated in the air.

Hakkai's eyebrows rose; Gojyo was both amused and annoyed that his roommate couldn't hide his own amusement. "Ah. This is pretty fine music for your tastes, Gojyo."

"Shut up." Gojyo took a seat beside Hakkai, folding his arms behind his head as he made himself comfortable against the wall. "Stone chimes," he said suddenly as the sound fluttered out toward them.

From the corner of his eye he saw Hakkai smile. "Guhzeng," he said just as he heard the multi-stringed instrument play. It seemed he'd quickly caught on to the game. For Gojyo it wasn't the best way to pass time, but it was fairly relaxing, and he wasn't in the mood for anything too strenuous. Besides, Hakkai seemed to be enjoying himself, so...

"Sheng."

"Ruan."

"Sanxian."

The game went on like that, with more and more relaxing pauses between various instruments. The night was looking out to be very peaceful.

The sudden yelling next door ruined it, and before they could reach the door of the room they heard a loud crash.

------

It was so damn loud. Growling, Sanzo turned over on his stomach, hands clasped over his ears. He knew it would do him little to no good, but the damn voice just wouldn't shut up.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, damn it, he thought angrily, clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. Inwardly yelling at the voice was doing him no good; it just whimpered soundlessly.

"Shut up," he snarled aloud. "Shut up!" The whimpers only grew louder in response, and Sanzo returned the shouts in kind. Soon enough the voice in his head had reached a horrible, mind-wrenching scream. Sheer agony, sorrow, and loneliness tore at him, making him feel helpless, so like that one night...

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

He swung out of pure frustration. His clenched fist hit the glass of water on his bedside table, sending it flying to the wall. It shattered upon impact.

The door swung open. He was dimly aware of Hakkai and Gojyo yelling his name, telling him to get a grip on himself. Sanzo shoved at them when they tried to hold him down. He didn't want people touching him. He hated people touching him.

The voice seemed to quiet when he wasn't yelling at it; he finally mustered up a glare, giving Gojyo and Hakkai a warning look. He didn't have to say, "Get out," for them to understand. Hakkai could likely feel his need to be alone, and even Gojyo knew which lines not to cross.

They both left.

Sanzo was curled up on the bed, knees to his chest as he sat there rigidly, trying to breathe properly. The voice wasn't whimpering or screaming anymore. Oddly enough, he didn't hear it, yet he knew it was still there. If it had been in the shape of a person, the person would have been rubbing his back or stroking his hair, trying to soothe him.

Sanzo shuddered, wishing there was a way to push that presence away. Even as it was calming it was also unnerving. He wanted it to go away as much as he wanted it to stay. And Sanzo hated it for that.