:: Perfect World ::

Gensomaden Saiyuki

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

Rating: R

Pairings: mentioned Gojyo/Hakkai

Warnings: AU-ish, strong language, brief nudity

Notes: Okay. Two quick announcements pertaining to this fic.

1) My beta-reader is very busy this month, so the fic will still lack beta-ing for another couple weeks.

2) My family and I are moving to a new house tomorrow. Due to this, I'm updating early. Also due to this, the next update won't come until the 12th or 13th, since my mother waited until the last minute to call the cable company. Sigh. Unfortunately, my mother is incompetant and inconvenient like that. In any case, the next chapter will be late-- unless I can sneak on at school next Friday and update from there. We'll see what happens.

Constructive criticism and feedback is appreciated.


Chapter Thirteen

It had been one of their usual days of long driving, hot deserts, and the occasional ambush. Sanzo knew he wasn't the only one who was hot, sticky, tired, and in need of a relaxing bath and good night's sleep. Gojyo was also somewhat cranky at the moment, a good deal of it having to do with his lighter running out of gas, and Hakkai just seemed exhausted.

Sanzo had already booked two rooms; that was the cheapest way for him to get some privacy, since his other two companions were comfortable enough in each other's presence to not mind the company. In fact, half the time he suspected that they even wanted to share a room. There were nights he would be plagued with insomnia and get up to go on a walk, and passing by their inn room he would hear soft conversation and the occasional chuckle through the walls.

Sometimes Sanzo wasn't sure if he hated them or not.

Tonight that wasn't bothering him. It was already early in the evening, and he was in dire need of a bath and something to eat. He had just finished making room reservations and was now tossing Gojyo his and Hakkai's key. Without a word he turned and headed for the stairs. Gojyo and Hakkai followed his lead, neither seeming to be in a conversational mood. That was good. Sanzo was too tired and moody for small talk.

Once in his room Sanzo made sure the door was locked before he removed his scriptures and set them in the nightstand drawer. He went to the private bathroom. Turning the shower on, he made sure the water was only barely warm before he stripped free of the rest of his clothes and stepped in. The water felt cold upon contact, jolting him wide awake.

Good, was Sanzo's only blissful thought. He closed his eyes against the spray, letting the water pound against his skin and wash away the first layer of dirt and grime. After a few moments he grabbed the soap, working up lather in his hands before he washed his face first. That felt refreshing enough to lighten his mood.

As Sanzo rubbed soap on his arms he found his thoughts flitting briefly over recent events. Oddly enough, the assassination attempts had suddenly started coming fewer and further between. Rather than relieve him, that only made him even more wary and suspicious. Was something going wrong with the Gyuumaoh experiments, or was something going right? That would be just his luck, if they suddenly found a way to revive the demon king without the Maten scriptures. Not only would he not realize it right away, but it would make the mission that much more difficult by the time they reached Tenjiku, where the experiments were supposedly taking place.

Sanzo shook his head, sending little sprays of water around the tiny stall. He could worry about that later; right now he just wanted a relaxing shower. The water was starting to feel too cold, though. He reached over, turning the temperature up a few degrees. The air grew slightly thicker with steam.

One thing Sanzo hated about inns was their shampoo. For one they came in tiny bottles that hardly felt adequate for two uses, especially with his thick hair. (He usually showered once before bed and once before leaving, since sometimes they would go days between towns.) Another was that their shampoo, while labeled something decent such as "lavender," usually smelled like plastic. Sanzo wasn't one to gripe, but it tended to ruin the appetite if one ate dinner shortly after a shower. It was hard to enjoy the smell of fried noodles when you had a strong scent of liquid plastic under your nose.

He finished washing his hair quickly, taking more time than he really needed to wash his body again. It was more to use the soap to cover up the plastic smell than anything else, and it seemed to be doing an adequate job. Once Sanzo was satisfied he looked and felt clean, he let the spray rinse the last of the suds off his chest before he leaned over to turn off the water. Pushing the flimsy shower curtain aside, Sanzo was almost immediately hit with a blast of cold air. He shivered, immediately seeking a towel to quickly dry himself off with.

It was still too warm for him to pull the upper half of his robes on, so Sanzo decided to leave that hanging at his waist. He tucked the scriptures into one of the inside pockets; he didn't dare leave it alone for too long. Things had been quiet lately, yes, but one could never be too careful. His hair was still damp as he grabbed his bedroom key and stepped out. He doubted both Hakkai and Gojyo had finished cleaning up-- and they would definitely want to, after being in the desert for the past five days straight.

Sanzo decided to grab some more cigarettes before dinner. It would be one less thing on their list of things to get later, plus it would pass some time before his companions were ready to meet him downstairs.

Not all the shops had closed for the night, he observed as he stepped outside. Some night lamps had been lit on street corners, but plenty of shop windows were still bright. Sanzo walked the near empty streets, seeing the people around him but not really registering their presence. He never bumped into anyone, but if he thought back on it later he wouldn't be able to remember if they had had brown or blonde hair, or what they were wearing, or even if the few people his eyes managed to linger on for more than a couple seconds were male or female.

He found the tobacco shop within minutes. It didn't take long to purchase enough packs to last until they reached the next town (hopefully, as the days it took to get to each town were rather sporadic) and all too soon he was on his way back to the inn.

"Hey!"

The sudden shout startled Sanzo enough to bring him back to reality, but not enough for him to look to see where it was coming from. The voice was young and nasal, probably an annoying teenager yelling for his friends...

"Hey," the voice called out again. It sounded closer this time. "I said, hey." The last word was punctuated with a sudden firm tug on Sanzo's sleeve. The priest whirled to face the speaker, and was startled to first see Hakuryuu's beady red eyes gleaming up at him.

What the hell? Before he could speak Hakuryuu gave a small squeak, recognizing his driver. The white dragon fluttered from the other speaker's hold and on to Sanzo's shoulder. He took to the man all right since Sanzo was his driver, but for some reason Hakuryuu was more drawn to Sanzo's blind companion than he was his literal caretaker.

"Oh, good, he is yours." Sanzo turned his attention back to the voice, not surprised to find himself staring at a boy. What did surprise him were the brilliant golden eyes looking up at him, as well as the bronze demon limiter fit snugly around the boy's head.

"He's mine," Sanzo agreed, since it wasn't far from the truth. He kept his voice flat and dull, hoping the boy would get bored and leave.

Either it worked very well or the boy simply had other things to do, because he grinned and started backing up, giving them a short wave. "Take care of your dragon. He's pretty cool!" With that he turned on his heel and ran off.

Sanzo's gaze followed the boy a little longer than necessary, just long enough to see the boy be greeted unceremoniously by an orange-haired man smacking him upside the head. Somehow the interaction reminded Sanzo of Gojyo.

Shaking his head, he decided to put the event out of his mind and continue his way back to the inn. Hakkai and Gojyo were in the lounge when he arrived. Both looked cleaner, calmer, and more than ready for something to eat.

"You took a little longer than usual," Hakkai observed as he stood up.

"A monkey ran into me," Sanzo said flippantly. Gojyo snorted, but Hakkai merely nodded and dropped the subject. They went to order dinner, which turned out to be typical: a fairly quiet, eventless affair punctuated by small talk about their plans for the next few days and the strange lack of assassins as of late. It was nothing unusual and nothing remarkable. Just like any other day.

During dinner Hakuryuu had kept well-hidden beneath the table as he usually did, curled up at Hakkai's feet. He popped up when Hakkai leaned over to offer him some food, but otherwise stayed out of sight. That was fine with Sanzo, since he didn't know if the inn owner would care to see an animal of any sort in their diner.

The rest of the night and the next morning went as expected. Sanzo paid for their food and they retired to their rooms, where he slept restlessly, but with the blissful absence of the voice that would pop up occasionally. Somehow he took that as a sign that the voice, whoever it belonged to, was content.

------

Dawn came and Sanzo showered as usual, with less shampoo than the evening before. He dried and dressed quickly, pausing to have a morning smoke by the window before the first hints of sunrise peeked over the horizon. Sanzo watched the scenery for a few brief minutes before heading into the hallway, scriptures, weapon, and bedroom key with him.

It was in the hallway things abruptly took a turn for the worse.

"Excuse me." It was too early for many people to be up, and the voice definitely did not belong to either of his companions. Sanzo looked up sharply, his eyes falling on a middle-aged man who stood off to the side but noticeably in his way. His eyes were closed, but he gave off the impression he was staring at Sanzo. "We would like to request a few minutes of you and your friends' time."

"What friends?" Sanzo returned flatly. Something about this man rubbed him the wrong way immediately; he didn't know why, but Sanzo instantly decided he did not like him. It was a rare occurrence when his instincts proved to be wrong. "And who is this 'we?' "

A faint smile tugged the corners of the man's lips. "Your companions, of course," he said mildly, blatantly ignoring the second question.

"They're not my friends," Sanzo said. Just as he finished his sentence a door opened just behind him across from his room.

"Hey, hey," he heard Gojyo mutter. The half-breed sounded a little groggy as he stepped into the hallway. His hair was tied back into a ponytail, dripping water down the nape of his neck, but he hardly seemed to care. "What's all the commotion about, priesty?"

"Nothing. Where's Hakkai?"

Gojyo shrugged, one eye lazily observing their guest. His posture remained relaxed, but the hard glint in his gaze suggested that he was more awake than he let on. "Shower, most likely. You know, we could get a move on a lot faster if we all had separate rooms."

"Like you two would even use the extra room," Sanzo muttered.

"Hey, Hakkai's fun and all, but I miss courting women too, you know."

A voice scoffed behind them. "Well, they are as hell haven't changed much. Have they, Shien?"

"Indeed," the man in front of Sanzo agreed. The priest locked that bit of information away; though he didn't want it too, it seemed as though the situation was going to get ugly. He might as well know their names if he could.

Sanzo turned to get a look of their other new arrival. Part of him started inwardly; he recognized the man from somewhere, and it didn't take much thinking to realize it was the same man the golden-eyed boy had run to the day before. He wasted a moment wondering if the boy was around as well.

"Oh, I disagree," a new voice cut in. "I think they're quite different. A little more charismatic, perhaps."

Sanzo looked to his right again, getting annoyed with the random appearances. This time it was a man with tousled black hair, part of it nearly covering a blue eye. Sanzo's first thought was that he must be the ringleader of the little carnival. His second thought was the realization that this man's right eye was gold.

Just like the brat I saw yesterday, he thought grimly. If he remembered correctly, they didn't look anything alike, but the golden eyes seemed to link them. Perhaps they were brothers? Somehow that didn't seem right, and neither did cousins. The latter seemed more appropriate, but still not entirely correct.

"Well, isn't this fucked up," he heard Gojyo mutter beneath his breath. He seemed to be thinking along the same lines as Sanzo; that these men weren't here to make things any easier for them. "Kougaiji's new assassins, you think?"

"Maybe," Sanzo said quietly. It was possible, but at the same time didn't quite fit. There was a determination in the leader's eyes that was unlike the suicidal bravado Kougaiji's assassins displayed. Not to mention that these men lacked the physical demonic traits, and that was too unusual for one of Kougaiji's men.

The leader caught Sanzo's eye again before he spoke. "You need not worry, Konzen. We realize you're on a very tight schedule, so we'd like to keep this as simple and quick as possible."

"If you were really so considerate, you'd keep it even more simple and quick by getting out of our sight," Sanzo retorted. "In any case, you seem to have the wrong guy."

Gojyo and Hakkai's door opened again, as the last of their group came out to join them. Hakkai was silent at first, his face turning left and right as though he could see the intruders. Not sounding surprised, somehow even mildly amused, he remarked, "It seems we have company."

Indeed, Sanzo thought dryly. "And we were just leaving." He had barely taken a step forward when the leader spoke again.

"It involves the Maten scriptures."

The words successfully stopped Sanzo in his tracks. He gave the ebon-haired man a sharp look, eyes narrowed. From his attire it was obvious he was a Sanzo priest, so he wouldn't have been surprised if the man had merely mentioned the scriptures. The fact he knew exactly which scrolls Sanzo wore immediately made him skeptical-- and wary.

Smirking, the man made an overly dramatic gesture toward the end of the hallway. "Shall we take this outside?"

Nodding once, Sanzo gave his companions a brief glance before following the intruders. The glimpse had given him enough time to note the worried stitch in Hakkai's brow, as well as the displeased expression on Gojyo's face.

Whatever. They would have to put up with the suspension as much as he had to.

It didn't take long for them to get down to business. Once outside the leader turned to Sanzo, a smug smirk on his lips.

"The Maten scripture," he said calmly. "You will give it to me."

"Like hell." Though his demeanor was composed and quiet, inside Sanzo was bursting with a sudden onslaught of questions. Who did this bastard think he was? It was looking more and more like he was an assassin, but there was still that persistent voice in the back of Sanzo's mind insisting he was wrong. If he wasn't an assassin, what would he want with the scriptures?

The man gave a long-suffering sigh before he smirked again. "Of course. Perhaps I should introduce myself first." He extended a hand, not to shake, merely a gesture as though he were offering something. "I am the War Prince Homura," he said. "And yes, my companions and I are gods." He arched an eyebrow as though someone had said something interesting. Then he chuckled. "Well, most of us."

"How nice," Sanzo replied, deadpan.

"I think so, too."

The response caused annoyance to flare in Sanzo's chest. He didn't like this man's attitude. And anyway, what proof did he have this freak really was a god? He then noted the chakra on his forehead. He may be a god, he admitted grudgingly. But god or not, he's making a stupid request.

"Now that introductions have been made, I shall only repeat myself once. You will give me the Maten scripture." He wasn't holding his hand out as a gesture, Sanzo suddenly realized. He was expecting Sanzo to put the scrolls right into his possession.

What a waste of time. Sanzo reached into his robes, drawing out his gun and aiming the muzzle at the center of the god's forehead. Rather than flinch or withdraw, Homura's smirk merely widened to a grin. He spread his arms as though to embrace the anticipated shot.

"By all means, Konzen," the man said silkily. He seemed to be enjoying the situation; from the corner of his eye Sanzo caught the orange-haired companion looking equally amused. Their flippant attitudes made his stomach press into his spine. He had a bad feeling. "By all means," Homura repeated.

Sanzo fired.

He knew he had aimed right. Using a gun for seven years had given him enough practice to not just be a good marksman, but a near perfect one. If his target was standing still there was no way he could miss unless he was bumped into to throw his aim off. Sanzo had even spent days going out into the woods and practicing against trees, even animals before he had found the Chang'an temple.

That was why it stunned him when the bullet, by some twist of bad luck, missed. Not only missed, but badly. It hit the ground nearly a yard from Homura's feet.

"What the hell?" he heard someone whisper faintly. It took him a moment to realize it was his own voice. It took him another few moments to realize Gojyo had moved up behind him.

"Hey," the redhead muttered, putting a hand on Sanzo's shoulder. Sanzo instinctively shrugged him off, but it didn't deter Gojyo. "Take a look." He nodded toward the ground, where the bullet had hit. Sanzo frowned but looked anyway. At first he couldn't see what point Gojyo was trying to make, but it didn't take long for the connection to click.

The mark on the ground was definitely that of a bullet, but it wasn't of one when the slug hit the target. There was a tiny scuff angling away from Homura, and the bullet wasn't in immediate sight.

He hadn't missed. The bullet had been deflected. He didn't know how, and it didn't seem logically possible, but somehow it had been. That was both good and bad news; good because it meant Sanzo still had perfect aim... and bad because it meant these men were likely impervious to bullets.

Shit, was the only thing Sanzo could think.

"I believe we've made our point clear." Without looking Sanzo recognized the voice as Shien's. "Let's finish up here."

"As you wish," Homura said. He lowered his hands. "However... let's be sporting and give them a fair chance, shall we?"

What are they planning? Sanzo let his gaze flit briefly to the god's other two companions. Shien had a chakra on his forehead (though it was an odd-looking one), so he was most likely a god. The other man, however... he had no sign of a god that Sanzo could see. And Homura had said not all of them were gods...

The orange-haired man had sighed when Homura mentioned giving their opponents a fair chance. He seemed annoyed. "So the brat's the one that gets all the fun, huh?"

"My apologies, Zenon. Perhaps next time."

Next time? Sanzo had no time to demand Homura of what he meant, because the ebon-haired man had turned his attention away from Sanzo and to the inn behind him. He raised his hand, motioning for someone to come out. But to Sanzo's knowledge everyone was already outside, even if Hakkai and Gojyo had remained oddly quiet most of the time.

Somehow, even before he turned, Sanzo knew who he would see.

The boy he had run into the day before practically fled to Homura's side. He gave Sanzo's group a quick glance before grinning broadly. "You're really serious? I get to take 'em on all by myself?"

"All by yourself," Homura agreed, taking a step back. "I'll warn you one last time: all three of them combined might be a little too much for you."

They really were that confident, Sanzo realized. He took a step back, lowering his gun but only to reload it. He caught a glimpse of Hakkai's grim expression, as well as the strangest look on Gojyo's face.

"He must be the weakest of them," Hakkai murmured, his voice low enough so only Sanzo and Gojyo could hear. "But if they really think he might be able to defeat us..."

"They're just underestimating us," Gojyo growled. He sounded less than happy about the situation. "That's not what's really buggin' me, though. What bothers me is that the brat seems awfully familiar."

It was a foolish idea to take his eyes off the enemy, but Sanzo couldn't help it. He turned to look at Gojyo directly, his lips thinning into a hard line. "Did you meet him before?"

"Hell, no," Gojyo said irritably. "I'd remember that."

That was probably true, Sanzo guessed. After all, it wasn't every day you ran into a demon wearing any sort of power-suppressing device. Not anymore.

"It's just..." Gojyo's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "He seems familiar... and yet all I want to do is beat his head in."

And that pretty much summed things up. It sounded stupid, and he didn't want to admit it, but Sanzo knew what Gojyo was talking about. He hadn't felt it the first time they'd met, but now that Gojyo had mentioned it, this boy did seem familiar, in a strange way.

The boy seemed to be getting impatient, because he moved forward, his hand extended as he called out a strange name. A staff materialized in his hand just as one golden eye narrowed in a presumptuous look.

"Come on," he said. "Let's do this already!"

It wasn't as though they had much of a choice. Cocking his Smith & Wesson, Sanzo ignored the sudden rise of the achingly familiar voice within the back of his mind and fired the first round.